#everytime I close my eyes all I see are book designs and stars

[melit0n]

I made a little comic based on a convo a few friends and I had.

Time taken: 6 hours and 5 minutes.

What took the longest? Slide 7. Those book designs brought me to the brink of insanity (1 hour and 44 mins).

(Notes under the cut)

Before anyone asks, yes, I know Canus Major typically appears behind Orion, however, I was running out of space, so please forgive the inaccuracy.

For anybody wondering what on Earth the third drawing is, it's a interpretation of NASA's Voyager 1 spacecraft's Pale Blue Dot, which was taken on February 14th, 1990.

Slide 8 represents the red string theory. In most literature, the red string is attached to two people, typically romantic lovers, who are intertwined by fate to meet. However, it can also just be a string that connects a person and all the people they'll connect with in life. It's an embodiment of fate; everybody is interlinked.

Slide 10 is one of my own photos taken from my bedroom window. I originally planned on drawing it out, however, after two hours of fiddling about and trying to make it look right, I gave up and just put the photo there; I hope it fits in fine.

@moonchild-in-blue @tonguetyd @hookedhobbies @branches-in-a-flood thought you four might like this!

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

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The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

---------------------------------

After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

---------------------------------

The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

---------------------------------

Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

---------------------------------

Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

---------------------------------

You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

[fluffglass]

Imagines - Dating Logan Lee 11

I'm back with the part 2 and @shady-swan-jones ❤️ is the beautiful soul who gave me ideas for this one. Thanks. Please continue to read my works and keep suggesting me ideas. 😊

I would suggest you to listen to 'kiss me more' by Doja Cat ft.SZA while reading.❤️

Category - fluff, smut.

People are suspicious of Logan everytime they see him. You always want to laugh at them because if they see what you were looking at right now, they would be disoriented and wouldn't believe their own eyes. And right now all you are looking at is the perfect Logan Lee struggling to make breakfast who looks pretty much a meal himself. You chuckled in a low voice so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want to discourage him. After all, he wanted to impress you with his cooking and you really wanted to try it. You looked at him with satisfaction, his hair was all over the place, eyes just noticing the sun now, dark grey sweatshirt hugging him from his sleep, hands looking so beautiful, you could hold all day, even his face with the aggression looked so adorable you would have to control yourself to not hold his face with your hands and kiss them. Although you liked watching him working, you were becoming impatient with the going time so you tiptoed to the kitchen and sweetly asked,' do you need help?', to which he replied,' no....uhm......I'm fine actually', in a not so confident voice which was not Logan-like, you could see in his eyes. You were a few years older than him and he loved your caring and responsible nature. You didn't want to interrupt but you didn't want Logan to brawl with the recipe.

So you walked behind him and began instructing him while giving him a back hug, holding him, trying to kiss him till he starts laughing.

'Stop, the food is ready! '.

'I don't want to, I can eat you instead'.

'You've become quite brazen, haven't you?'.

'The only one thing Mr. Logan Lee can do except cooking'.

He would be lost in words with questioning eyes, you would start chuckling with yours sparkling like stars. He would lose to you every time if he could see your smile. He held your face with his right palm on your left cheek, fingers in your hair, thumb grazing your ear, your cheeks were getting slightly warm, same action with his left hand. Then he tilted his head, closed his eyes, you did the same, touching your lips with his, in a way reminding you of the dark chocolate you eat slowly to treasure it for a long time. Softly, taking time to feel and memorize each other's lips, kissing till you you took breaks to whisper things you wouldn't say to each other on daily basis.

'I love you Logan'.

'I you you more y/n'.

You tucked on his sweatshirt from back. Giggling at each other and continuing to smolder his lips when he slowly licked your lips in a making you lose your senses, leaving you yearning for more. You let him enter your mouth with his smooth actions, reciprocated with your own. You were becoming hungrier for Logan's kisses with the passing time, you could feel the dampness down and were figuring out if he was feeling the same. The room was never this quiet, all you both could hear were the noises of your lips dancing together. This was making you blush red as this is the first time you don't want to talk but keep feeling​ this euphoria. Logan was also unexpectedly quiet, his hands were doing the talking, touching you in places you could end up throwing yourself on him.

But good things take time and this wasn't a good time. Because Logan's phone just rang reminding you of the time and how were actually going to be late for work. Both of you stopped and looked at different directions looking like cherry tomatoes. You got up to get ready, he looked doe eyed at you walking away. While Logan was talking on the phone you got ready, then walked towards the door when he came running and called. 'Y/n!', you looked behind when he just came and hugged you tightly for few seconds, then he said,

'Are you free this evening? '.

'Yes '.

'I'm coming to you then '.

'Okay, I'll call you'.

'Bye y/n'.

In a needy voice where he didn't want to let you go.

'Bye Love'.

He smiled. You smiled.

You entered your workplace looking like a boomerang fitted in your mouth. People who are looking at you are puzzled at your reason for this beaming happiness.

This boy is such a gentleman, you can't even hate him properly. One of the things you love him for. You thought about how just a few months ago you thought Logan would be this rude rich dude and now you look at this soft furball you wanna cuddle and kiss all night. He was constantly growing on you.

Here you were having sweetest dreams about him and on the other side Logan was getting anxious with the going second, about how he should have pulled you for a hug or a peck or a smooch, how he should have talked to you more, how he should make it right, how much he fears to lose you. He was turning shy by each time you were becoming bold. He was smirking with the thought that he would go crazy in love with you. And he didn't want to be the only one left amazed, he was planning to go all the way to thunderbolt you with his feelings.

So he was going to finish what started this morning. He texted you,

'Did you have lunch?'.

'Yes, I did. What about you 😘?'.

'I did, but I was missing you'.

You smiled reading the message.

'I miss you too'.

He blushed.

'How about we meet at 5pm ?'

You look at your phone smirking and type,

'Okay, I'll be waiting for you in the lobby.'

'You won't have to wait, I will reach you before it'.

You were trying to hide your smile in case someone saw you, but Logan was making it so hard for you, you were imagining him in your daydreams.

You finished your work before 5pm, arranged your belongings, looked at your mirror if your hair was alright, retouched your makeup and took the elevator to the lobby. You reached in a few seconds and kept walking but could not see him. You thought he might be on his way so you called,

'Logan, I'm h....'. He cut you mid sentence and said,' On your left, y/n'. You looked at the direction, lost for words as what you saw at that moment startled you to the core. If angels exist they might be looking like Logan was what was going through your head. Or you could say that he was your prince whose princess you wanted to be forever.

Logan wore a bright yellow coat and you were sure of the fact that no one can pull off. The smooth colour looks like it is hugging Logan's body in a way making him look so tempting to eyes. You can't even think of someone who would look good in yellow. His hair colour perfectly complementing his coat like frosting on a cupcake. And his blue scarf with white design went along with the coat perfectly. Logan has a scarf for every occasion. Scarfs make him look very sophisticated, unique, no man can compare.

You smiled at him. He smiled at you. You both kept your phones in your pocket. Standing opposite each other as if time had stopped, looking at each other's eyes trying to read the feelings you hold for the other. He was fighting his urges to not hold you tightly against his chest. You wanted to pull him and kiss him then and there till your lipstick comes off.

He was standing with a bouquet in left hand and waving with his right hand smiling. You walked towards him in a normal pace with a smile and upon reaching to him, you pull him for a peck on lips taking him by surprise, making his eyes widen, increasing his heartbeat, make his cheeks warm, shy, making him forget what he wanted to tell you but he retreated by giving you a smirk.

'You look breathtaking'.

'Less than you'.

'Being modest aren't you?'.

In the end both of you chuckled and you took his hand, fingers entangled, walking outside till he remembers the flowers in his left hand and gives you. Taking it you say,

'The smell is so soothing, I love these so much'.

'And I love you y/n'.

Sudden confessions like these make you lose your composure. And he loves that.

He takes your hand in his hand making a boxy smile to a restaurant he booked for dinner.

After dinner you slowly walk to a nearby park watching the trees, flowers, leaves, water and his eyes. Being quiet like this beside him felt so intimate and secure. Looking at him while walking so closely, talking about each other's day, occasionally giggling is something you want to do everyday. Your Haven.

'Y/n?'.

'Hm'. You looked with doe eyes.

'The moon is beautiful, isn't it?'. He says it in a playful tone.

'Yes it is'. You said smiling.

At the next second slowly,he came closer to you, looking at your lips giving a peck, holding your face with his hands, closing his eyes, in return you closed your eyes as well,putting your arms around him, pecks turning into soft nibbles, nibbles turning into long kisses. All happening so slowly you could feel every movement, you kissed him back to make him feel the same tingling feeling you were getting.

Logan would talk in between to regain his breath,

'You will make me go crazy'.

'I'm already one'.

You would continue kissing till you felt burning from head to toe. He felt so fiery, passion was filling his body.

'Y/n, I think we need to go home to continue this'.

In a bold voice where he was ready to feast on you.

'I think so too, let's go I can't control myself anymore'.

He smiled and took your hand.

The End.

[nemycchi]

Delusion

A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction

Rating : Not Rated

Tags : Psychological, Mild Angst, Character Death

----

During moments of utter silence, Childe recalls that which Lumine once told him about a book she had read from a far away land. 

"It is of utmost importance that those who seek to fight monsters must not become one in the process." 

He likes to think that perhaps, by mentioning it, she had once hoped that he would be reminded of his main aspiration—to conquer the world that is, and not to simply bathe in the blood of his enemies. 

It has its merits, he admits—for he finds himself fighting alongside her during the turning point of the war, the darkness in him dampened by the white light she emits—cleansing the corruption that has resided in him for the longest time. 

This too though, reminds him of another of her words. 

"The deep dark abyss—stare for too long and it would stare back to those who dare." 

It is true, for he knows that ever since he dropped down that hole in the world, he emerged as a monster that is only tamed by bloodshed. 

And from the moment he knew Lumine, perhaps by her as well. 

He has always carried a portion of that so-called abyss, feeling its vines wrapping inside his very being. He is a monster, that much is true, but tamed as one can be, he became a tool under her commands. 

He does not care, for it is times with her when the whispers of the dark become muted—turned into nothing but echoes of the past. 

"Childe? Breakfast?" 

The man spies her slender form by the doorframe of his bedroom, sees her domestically ushering his sleepy person into the kitchen and he feels as though he had achieved that which he desires, with her by his side. 

To conquer the world. 

They did. They won. And it was all that he could ask for. 

Celestia is no more. The abyss is no more. It is just him, Lumine and the rest of the world. 

He smiles as he sits down at the table, reaching for her hand as she places the bowl of steaming Calla Lily Seafood Soup before him. 

"Oh, my favorite. What's the occasion, girlie?"

"Mhm, nothing in particular. Just wanted to cook something special for you." she smiles back and he thinks he saw the glimmer of stars beyond her eyes. 

Or perhaps it was nothing but an illusion, masking the deeper end of the void he is familiar with—if such end even existed. 

Childe shakes his head for he believes that that is not the case. Lumine is here with him. And the abyss is no more. It is no more. 

And if the calling of that dark bud inside him grows too strong anyhow, he knows she is here to defeat it for him. 

For she is also perhaps a monster in her own rights. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The bags under his eyes, and the haunted looks in his face tell everyone that he is far from recovered but everytime someone comes to ask him how he is faring, he will do nothing but face them with a smile before answering. 

"I'm very much fine! Lumine takes good care of me." 

If there were curious glances sent his way, he does not care. They must be seething inside—jealous that it was him who conquered her heart by the end of it all. 

The savior and the reformed harbinger.

What a perfect love story—great as a tale to pass down from generations to generations. He sighs at the thought. 

"Childe, pardon my query but I must ask—how have you truly been?" 

He already lost count of how many times the same question had been asked of him. 

He stops walking—to face the former Geo Archon a few steps behind. 

"I do not understand why everyone keeps on asking the same question. I already told you i'm fine, didn't I?" 

Oh how he hates it when they ask—as if they were doubting his princess' ability to care for him, for it was her who has been on his bed, in his kitchen, in his very house ever since the world achieved true peace. 

They do not understand just how capable Lumine is. 

And they will never know, if he has anything to say. 

"Though we are but friends, I must express my deep concern. The dips on your cheeks beg to differ from that which you uttered." 

The blue in his eyes shift into something malicious, to that belonging to the beast he keeps inside. 

"With all due respect, Mr. Zhongli. I do not appreciate the implications of what you just said. You asked and I answered." He pauses. 

The abyss is no more for Lumine is with him. 

"I shall be going now. My wife is waiting for me at home." 

As he walks away, he ignores the burning gaze on his back. It's fine. That former god does not matter. 

What matters is him and Lumine while the rest of the world could go crash and burn, he thinks. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

"Tough day at work?" 

Childe sidles up to her side, wrapping an arm around the apron-covered waist of his beloved. He kisses her temple with reverence—for it is what she deserves. 

"Not really. It was just Mr. Zhongli. And others. Being annoyingly repetitive as always." He grumbles, tucking her head under his chin. 

The small hand resting atop his chest tightens against his clothes. 

"Do they... not approve of me?" She asks almost inaudibly. 

He was quick to deny the preposterous thought. 

"Don't listen to them. They do not matter, girlie." 

Childe feels her shift and he looks down at her. 

Golden pools decorated by the glittering of stars—of tears, he realizes, meet his abyssal depths. 

"Are you... are you going to leave me?" 

He brushes the hair out of her forehead and tucks the strays behind her ears before promptly brushing away the tears that cascaded from her eyes. 

"Never. You are mine, Lumine. As much as I am yours." 

Even the sweetest wine cannot compare to the smile that adorns her face after his declaration. She buries her head on his chest once more, arms crossing behind him, bestowing him with nothing else but warmth. 

Childe thinks for a second, that this moment is perhaps the best there is in the world. And he knows he is ruined for anything else.

It is impossible to feel anything akin to this feeling and he strongly believes that the desire to even experience it from others aside his princess does not exist anymore. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The sound of deliberate knocking at the door rouses the harbinger from his sleep. Childe growls in annoyance at whoever is behind that piece of wood as he untangles his limbs from the goddess laying beside him. 

He kisses the top of her head before deciding to rise and check who their visitor is. 

He stills when the one in front of his humble abode makes himself known. 

Zhongli, of course. 

"Mr. Zhongli, why the early visit?" 

The man only hums before crossing his arms, pinning him with a serious gaze. 

"May I come in, Childe?"

"Ah, of course." 

He lets him in and ushers the former archon to the couch. Upon sitting, the latter immediately scans his surroundings with vague concern in his eyes. 

"I must say, your house is surprisingly empty and devoid of life, Childe."

"What do you mean? I think it's pretty homey. Lumine designed it by herself when she first got here." 

A frown makes its way to the other man's lips. 

"Childe, can we talk?" 

He stiffens, tone changing into a defensive one. 

"We are talking, are we not?" He spats.

"Why don't you ask Lumine to come down here with us?" 

He summons one of his water blades. 

"Why exactly are you here, Zhongli?"

"Call Lumine, Childe." 

In a flash, the water blade comes in contact with the polearm that materialized in front of the visitor. 

"Why. Are. You. Here?" He asks, hostile in every way as he accents each word with a swing of his blade—all thankfully parried. 

"I need you to understand, Childe." Zhongli calls forth a jade shield that rattled even the sturdy walls of the other man's home. 

A water spear slams against the shield. 

"That Lumine..." 

Yet another side step, perfectly timed to avoid the beast cloaked in water suddenly crackling with electricity. 

"Stop it!" It yells. 

But Zhongli is not known for being gentle. The wrath of the rock and the harsh truth—both must be laid out for him to save the monster disguised as a man. 

"Is no longer with us." 

A beat passes.

"She's gone, Childe. And you must accept that fact."

"No!" 

And like that, the man surges forward with the fury enough to fuel wars. 

The walls crumble and the terrified shrieks of townsfolk in the immediate vicinity sound off but Childe could no longer care. 

Him and Lumine. The rest of the world does not matter. 

His mind goes blank with nothing but white hot anger, and he brandishes his weapon with renewed vigor. 

"Take it back." He quietly demands, voice distorted. 

Instead of complying, multiple stone steles rise up from the pavement, obscuring the two men from prying eyes. 

"Everyone grieves for her departure, I assure you. We are hurt as much as you are." A water blade makes contact with the archon's cheek and he winces as response, "but she chose to sacrifice herself for this world's peace and she will not be happy if she sees you rotting away to your demise, Childe."

"You—you don't know anything! Do not lie! Lumine..." A crack in his composition and Zhongli is quick to take advantage of it. 

All at once, like a puppet with strings cut off, Childe falls forward when Zhongli's polearm strikes down his chest. The accumulated hunger and fatigue from weeks of barely holding on to her memory suddenly come crashing down upon his person. 

Empty plates and sweet nothings. 

Cold bed and pristine kitchen. 

Unused scarf with the color of the skies and the clouds—like the view he's witnessing right now. 

Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you—its remnants staying within, slowly consuming that which it latches on to. 

The abyss is no more—or so he believes. 

"Lumine... she promised me." he whispers into the wind. 

The rustling of cloth distracts him from his thoughts. 

"Do not lean too close to that edge, Childe. I beg you, not as your friend, but as Lumine's—please, do stay with us." 

Before his eyes closed, he heard the call from the deep dark abyss of the waters. 

The sea is calm. And he couldn't care less about the rest of the world. 

Him and Lumine, he thinks. Him and Lumine.

[galactichen]

work of art | seo changbin

prompt #51. “Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

description. seo changbin, your tattoo artist of a boyfriend, is a work of art (and he knows it).

pairing. seo changbin x reader

genre. romance, tattoo artist au

word count. 1.0k+

author’s note. hello! starting up a brand new series where i work through a list of 100 prompts, writing up little drabbles or whatever comes to mind. mostly using these to introduce and perhaps develop some au’s and muses that have been running around my head.

warning. gets slightly suggestive bc tattoo artist changbin is a cocky piece of shit.

Changbin’s room was always fascinating to you.

Everytime you walked in, there was always something different about it compared to the last time you visited. Whether it be a different poster on the wall, a new arrangement of post-it notes with blueprints of his next design, or a new record on his desk for inspiration—there was always something to look forward to seeing.

Today is no different.

As you lay on his bed, eyes scanning the room, you take note of the new rock posters plastered on the wall—ones that you recognize as bands he’s recently taken a liking to based on his recent purchases at the record shop you worked at. They take up nearly half of the wall and would have kept going if not for the tall black shelf that is home to many of Changbin’s vintage records. They’ve been neatly arranged like books on a shelf, save for the few larger ones that have their own display stands, as well as his personal favourites. Rush, Led Zeppelin, and even The Beatles are among the albums that you could see from your perch on his bed.

One of the records in his collection has been taken off the shelf and now leans against the wall at his desk before Changbin himself, quiet humming coming from the boy as he sketches away, his chin in his other hand as he works.

His left arm that faces you is decorated in countless designs of black ink—some of his own, some from his friends, and some even from you. They swirl across his skin, curling across like snakes from his fingertips all the way up to his biceps before disappearing beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. It’s a work of art, much like Changbin himself, with his sharp eyes that are accentuated by his eyebrow slits, his other brow pierced with two little studs. His hair is messier than usual from the day’s work, exposing his undercut as well as the many piercings on his ear. And if you looked close enough, you could see another tiny tattoo of minimalistic stars behind that same ear.

It’s evident that Changbin viewed his body as, quite literally, a canvas, and took pride in his accessories and the art that trails across his skin. And not a day goes by where he’s not dreaming up more designs not only for himself, but his clients as well—just what he was doing right now.

You, on the other hand, had your laptop in front of you playing the latest season of one of your current favourite shows, your boyfriend’s beloved Munchlax plush toy clutched in your arms. It’s funny, really, how Changbin treasured this little toy—nobody (not even you when you first met him in your shop a year ago) would have guessed that an intimidating guy like him would own such a thing. It was literally almost as precious to him as his all-time favourite records.

A movement in your peripheral catches your eye, and you’re quick to notice Changbin lean back in his chair slowly, arms stretched over his head as he stretches out the kinks in his back. He lets out a sigh, dropping his arms back down before beginning to roll up his sleeves, exposing the rest of his tattoos as well as his biceps.

You struggle to keep focussed on your show, your eyes subconsciously trailing back to Changbin’s arms as he shifts his attention to his other sleeve. The way the muscles in his arm move is captivating, and it makes your insides turn to literal mush just watching him.

“Please,” you say, pausing your show. Changbin turns to you with a raised brow, arms paused in the air. “Stop rolling your sleeves up, it’s distracting.”

Changbin only grins at your words, turning in his swivel chair so he’s facing you. He spreads his legs, leaning forward so his elbows are resting atop his knees and god—he knew what he was doing.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Changbin tells you with the absolute cockiest grin on his face. “What did you say?”

You sit up with a frown, still clutching his Munchlax—Gyu, you should call it—in your arms. “Don’t make me say it again,” you mutter quietly.

The way he sits in his chair, sleeves rolled up to expose his inked arms and hair tousled from constantly running his hands through it made you want to squirm in your spot, legs pressed together—but you don’t, because your boyfriend was a cocky piece of shit who thrived on things like that.

But then he opens his arms with a much warmer smile this time, and you find yourself on your feet before your brain can fully register it, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull you onto his lap like second nature. Gyu gets temporarily squished between the two of you, so Changbin quickly tugs him out of your grasp and places him gently (wouldn’t want to abuse the poor thing now, would he?) on his desk.

“Am I a distraction?” Changbin whispers as you bury your face in his neck, the scent of his cologne bringing a familiar warmth to your chest. His hands slip beneath your shirt, sliding across your skin and the feeling of his cold fingers against you makes you shiver slightly.

“Unfortunately.” Your voice comes out slightly muffled and Changbin chuckles. “I was trying to watch my show, ‘binnie,” you whine quietly.

“What if we watch it together, hm?” he responds, his lips trailing light kisses down your neck. His hands begin to wander elsewhere, but you’re quick to lean back and catch them before they wander too far. He only gives you an innocent look when you glare at him, as if he was saying, I didn’t do anything.

“But what about-” you start to say, in reference to his work, but he cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours.

“It can wait,” he murmurs against your lips that move in rhythm with his. “My baby needs attention right now, doesn’t she?”

Cheeks flushed, your breath hitches when his hands wander again. This time, however, you don’t stop him.

[dekus-afro-pic]

How you confess to them UwU

Includes: Kaminari/Bakugo/Amajiki/Kirishima/

A/N: Day 3 Of Fluffvember UwU. Also I know that they weren’t in dorms during Bakugos kidnapping but, bear with me.

Denki Kaminari

You two have been best friends since the day you were born so it was no shock to you when you started developing feelings

You planned to confess when you both passed your entrance exam to UA

But you never did. You were so excited about getting into your dream school with your best friend

Now the two of you were in your 2nd year and closer than ever. Your feelings grew everytime you two were together.

You asked the Bakusquad to help you with your confession and they happily obliged. Well Bakugo just grunted but you know he was happy.

They set up fairy lights in your room and Bakugo made hamburgers (Denki’s fav food) now all you had to do was wait for Kaminari to show.

“Hey Y/N I got your message what’s...up-?” He said walking into your room. “What’s this?”

“I really wanted to tell you something.” You smiled nervously “I really really like you”

You felt a heavy weight push you back onto your bed. You wrapped your arms around his torso as he kissed all over your face.

“I like you too Y/N. Ever since you told me not to eat that sand sandwich when we were kids” he smiled goofily

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo’s attraction to you started at the sports festival. When you two were chosen to fight against eachother you were more than nervous.

He was impressed that you lasted so long in the fight. If it wasn’t for you getting stuck to your own glue then he thinks you would have beaten him.

Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. Whenever people saw Bakugo they saw you right on his side.

One day you texted him to meet you under the cherry blossom tree on the hill at lunch. He was confused as he made his way to the designated spot.

Once he reached the top of the hill he was met with the scent of Japanese curry

“I know it looks good but let me tell you now. It doesn’t compare to yours” you joked

“Hah of course it doesn’t dumbass”

He sat and started to eat. His eyes widened as he swallowed the cousine. How could it be so good???

He started to stuff his face with the food as you sat there laughing at him.

“Ok slow down Baku before you choke. I wanted to tell you something”

He stopped at stared at you while he continued eating.

“I have a big crush on you. Like super duper big” you said quickly.

He starred at you with wide eyes at your confession. He swallowed the remaining food in his mouth and gave you a sly smirk

“About time you confess dumbass”

Tamaki Amajiki

Oh my sweet sweet baby🥺

You two met through Nejire. She thought your soft and kind nature and Tamaki’s shy nature would mix

But the poor baby was so anxious. He was starstruck by your beauty to say the least. He froze when you introduced yourself.

How could someone be so sweet and soft spoken?

Overtime the two of you became so close. You introduced him to your pet bunny and you genuinely thought he was going to explode.

One day while he was playing with her you decided it was time to confess.

“Hey Tamaki” you spoke softly

“Y-yea Y/N?”

“I love the way you handle carrot” you smiled. His face turned deep red at your compliment. “And I really like you”

Tamaki.exe has stopped working

He looks down at carrot and smiles “I like you too”

Eijirou Kirishima

This boy fell for you as soon as you walked into the classroom. He thought you were a complete GOD/GODDESS

Everyday he would hold your books to your next class, give you some of his lunch, and even spent time in your room with you.

The two of you were connected by the hip.

But when he went on that rescue mission with Bakugo you felt like your whole world collapsed. You didn’t know if you were going to see him again. You couldn’t live with him dying and you didn’t even tell him how you really felt.

That night you stayed in the common room. Waiting for him to return with you guys’ blonde best friend.

When they walked through the door you jolted awake. You didn’t remember dozing off but that didn’t matter right now. You ran towards Bakugo and hugged him tightly despite his protests.

“LET GO OF ME YOU DAMN NERD”

“NO.”

You let him go and said your hellos to everyone. When you got to Kirishima you felt a huge weight leave your shoulders. You crashed into him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Oh I gosh I was so scared. I thought you were gonna get hurt. And I wouldn’t have the chance to tell you I like you. Then we couldn’t go on dates and-“

The red head cut you off with a kiss. He pulled away and looked into your tear filled eyes.

“I’m ok. I’m with you now”

Fin

[bimormondisaster]

If anyone wants to draw this I'd love you forever

Disclamer; I don't ship Kell and Vin *gags even thinking about it*. And I've only read The Final Empire but everytime I listen to this song I picture this but I don't have the skills to make it happen.

(The song is Come With Me by Chxrlotte)

On the day heaven tried to take my soul

Vin getting beaten by the guy at the beginning of mistborn, lifted off the ground by her shirt all bloody and bruised. His fist cocked back ready to punch

You came down like in fairytales of old

Kell standing in an open door. Masked by the shadow of the light behind him but you can see a faint smirk.

I said open your white wings for me

Vin noticing his scars and Kell pulling his shirt sleeve down to hide them (I don't think this actually happened in the books but ya know)

And you said close your eyes and just believe

Kell offering Vin the metal to drink when they first met

You're made of darkness and fire my friend

Kell looking powerful doing someting caotic probally smirking.

I think the world may be coming to an end

Kell telling the team about the new job

But when heaven and hell do collide Know that I'll always be there by your side

Kell puts an arm around Vin

You know I'd follow you through hell and fight off demons as well

Them entering the spire thing where Vin almost died.

You beat your wings and cast a spell I'll run away with you

Vin getting pushed back by Kells coin bag to get her away from the inquisitors

And I said Hallelujah, running to you

???

They won't find us, you and I can watch the stars fall from the sky

Back to them on the first night. Vin looks up and the sky is filled with stars

All clothed in white, my shard of light

??? Maybe Vin getting ready for a ball or something

Let's go together, we'll be free

Kell jumps off the wall

The world ends eventually, so come with me

Vin jumps off the wall

Take my hand and we'll face the end of time

The scene where Kell says that Vin has a lot to learn about friendship

Let's take a stand against fate's design

Kell facing the Lord ruler

I said I can't bear to see the end

Vin rushing to his body crying and screaming. Ham holding her back

And you said close your eyes and count to ten

Kell's ghost over his body looking at her getting pulled back sadly

[amoveablejake]

Well, Here We Are

It is time for the obligatory year in review piece, I know, try and contain your excitement. 

Well, here we are. The end of another calendar year. 2020 is drawing to a close and so like many, if not all, journalistic outlets I too will be doing my year in review. Do I count as a journalistic outlet I hear you ask? Yes. I’ve decided that I do. This is my column and I’m going to to pretend that I am a columnist here. And I can’t hear your eye rolls because I’m busy hiding behind my clicking keyboard. 

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how I wanted to structure my year in review, for instance did I want to go through each category in a classic way and also would I also only speak about things that came out this year. The answer to both, is a no. Instead I am going to present to you my alternative awards for the year. There will still be runners up but the categories may be a little bit all over the place so if you were planning on counting on  a sure thing award winner that might be out the window now. That being said, shall we dive into perhaps the most chaotic awards show you’re going to experience this year. 

The album that I listened to literally on repeat for a week whilst I was working and as result now know ridiculously well. Perhaps too well - Winner: Pink Floyd ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ 

Right. So. Back in April one rainy Monday afternoon I put on ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ to listen to it through in its entirety for the first time. I had heard songs from it before and I was familiar with Pink Floyd’s music before this but this was what sent me down a spiral of their discography, so much so that Spotify have dubbed them my artist of the year based on playtime. Whilst I would not consider them to be my artist of the year, I can’t deny how deep I’ve gone into their library and in particular ‘Dark Side of the Moon’. I quite literally had it playing on repeat for the entirety of that week and now, now I simply don’t know if I ever truly existed before that album. Am I the album? Is the album me? I’m in too deep. 

The best representation of Seattle in a post apocalyptic video game - Winner: ‘The Last of Us Part Two’

Honestly, I know that this category makes it pretty clear that Last of Us was always going to win but that is because if it wasn’t on this list somewhere I think it might have indeed been a federal crime. This year I played both editions of Joel and Ellie’s story pretty much back to back and boy oh boy was that quite the ride. Part Two is a gruesome, grueling, revenge fueled ride that in all honesty is some of the best storytelling I have ever experienced. In any medium. It’s narrative is phenomenal, its game design is unparalleled, the voice acting and soundtrack are both out of this world and the way it looks is breathtaking. It is a game that continuously left me speechless and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I put it down. The fact that Joel looks like my Dad did and wears the same clothes only partly adds to the emotions it makes me feel. Although I won’t pretend the bit where Joel is talking to Ellie didn’t hit me quite hard. But hey, thats the game’s point. Its a story designed to make you feel and oh boy does it achieve that. 

The football player who came out of nowhere to bring life back to my club - Winner: Bruno Fernandes 

It has been a lot ol’ time since I’ve seen a player that I instantly fell for. Bruno Fernandes arrived in Manchester with an already strong reputation but he has completely transformed a team and shows no sign of slowing down. His first twelve months have been unparalleled and the comparisons drawn with a certain other Portuguese player who was worn that red shirt are not only warranted but deserved. 

The band who I’ve been missing all my life: Winner - Niteflyte 

Quite frankly, this is a very hard award to give. There were quite a few front runners however, it has to be Niteflyte. I got introduced to Niteflyte via a podcast about the CIA’s involvement with the soundtrack of the Berlin wall coming down (’Wind Of Change’, listen to it now. Well after you’ve finished reading this piece that is). The podcast only played Niteflyte because one of the figures it was investigating used to manage the band. It was a thirty second sound bite if that and it stopped me in my tracks. I was walking in my old city at the time and I had to stop on the street and find the album the song was from and put it on straight away. I have previously written about Niteflyte and their self titled album on the blog so go back and read that for a more in depth look however, if you take one thing from this it might be that if I was going to give an artist of the year award, lets just say I think I know who it would go to. 

The best motion picture handling of a father that has passed away that I have seen. Ever - Winner: ‘Onward’ 

When I first heard what ‘Onward’ was about I was, hesitant. Any film where a parent particularly a father comes back to life always makes me filled with trepdiation and this was the case when I went to go and watch ‘Onward’ back in March (the last film I saw in the cinema before all of this). Instead, what I found was an incredibly moving and sensitive film about losing a parent that had at its end the best handling of a reunion between father and son that I have ever seen on the big screen. I have watched it a second time since and I still found it to be incredibly well done. ‘Onward’ might well be my film of the year because of it, I’m that impressed. It is also a great film in its own right but hey, I can’t deny why it sticks out in my head. 

The show that keeps on getting better and better: Winner - ‘The Mandalorian’ 

Sigh. Everytime I think that that ‘The Mandalorian’ couldn’t possibly get any better it goes and proves me wrong. This year started off with the finale of series one and it has ended with the conclusion of the second series. It is a masterpiece and for that I don’t want to ruin its ending here. Instead I will say that it does get better and better each week and for this life long die hard Star Wars fan, hell, it might be my favourite Star Wars property. And I know that won’t mean anything to you, but to me, that is saying something. 

Okay, so, I could keep going on and on with these awards however, its the festive period and I don’t want to keep you hanging around too much so instead I am going to include below some honourable mentions with a little sentence about each. 

‘Anxious People’ - If I was to give a book of the year award winner this would be it. In fact its one of my top ten books ever. Its perfection. Read it. Now. 

‘Animal Crossing: New Horizons’ - Released at the perfect time and all these months later it still captures my heart everytime I go on it. 

‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ soundtrack - Look. I don’t need to make my feelings about this album any clearer. We know I love it and I hope that you’ve listened to it by now and you do too. 

Diego Maradona - The greatest of all time. There’s nothing more to say. 

‘The Prestige’ - Oh boy. I had heard about this film a lot from the IGN UK podcast over the years and it did not disappoint at all. Especially who plays a certain Mr Tesla. That reveal blew me away. 

Joe Exotic - Watching ‘Tiger King’ really felt like event viewing and came along at the perfect time like Animal Crossing. Joe Exotic, I don’t know what to say but he has earned his place on this list thats for sure. 

‘I’ve Got My Second Wind’ - I heard this on one of the early days in January, maybe the second or third and I’ve been listening to it ever since. My song of the year. 

Philippe Auclair - Football journalist and singer. Auclair who features on the Guardian’s Football Weekly podcast regularly is an incredibly articulate speaker and is never afraid to hold the more questionable footballing authorities accountable. One of the writers and figures in football that I look up to the most. Oh and hes an excellent singer. What a man. 

Napoli FC - This was the year that I fell in love with Napoli. Theres no looking back now, I finally found my own team. 

‘Uncharted Four: A Thief’s End’ - The game that showed me, truly, how good games can be. I felt like it was a crime that this game is so perfect. It feels like the inside of my head and I never wanted it to end. 

My brother, James - Look. I know you’re reading this and you more than deserve your place on this list. I was going to give you a proper award but I couldn’t quite get the wording right. Anyway, the point is you’re on the list as you always will be. (And yes, you’re in the same section as Joe Exotic, quite the compliment I know) 

So there we have it. 2020. Hopefully the above gives you something to think about and some things to consume over this festive period before we go again for the new year. This won’t be the final piece for the year but all the same, I hope its a bright 2021 for you, see you in the future. 

- Jake, a man who is immediately re assessing the awards, 27/12/2020

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

Just like any other night

Kanene’s Notes: Sugar! /0/

Spice! \0\

And everything nice! \0/  

To create the perfect fluff

But Kanene accidentally (unless...)

Added an extra ingredients to the concoction--

Angst!!

*Explosion*

*Evil crackling*

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! Good Omens belongs to the incredible Neil Gaiman and  Terry Pratchett; Aaaand the characters of this fic (and AU) themselves belongs to @10yrsyart

* Read here to know the AU Ducks and Dolphins and click here to see everything cannon about the D+D. It’s  f a n t a s t i c! Reaaad!  ^w^)s2

* I didn’t really asked a permission by myself, but this post kind of give permission to write about the AU? (I really hope so xDDD), so, if you also want to write about them please don’t be ashamed ! (And give credits, pleaaaase! :D)

* Something around 1.200 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* This is not cannon. This idea just came because everytime I thought in a fluff, plots of Az cheering up Crow were all that appeared, soooo I tried to challenge me a little and make the opposite. I hope I managed to demonstrate even a little bit of their personality (and don’t have misunderstanding them) well!

* Fanfic em português brasileiro daqui á pouco Thankys for reading, my lollipops! I hope you enjoy this day! Hug a demon, hug an angel and don’t forget to drink water!! Byeioo!~

                                     [~*~]

Aziraphale is calm, stoic, precise, bold, moralistic, firm, direct and ruthless if necessary. He is also sincere, generous, comprehensive, limpid and kind. He is as a pillar, a base. Something concrete, someone who you can lean on for support, trust, belief.

He knows very well how separate his work from his personal life. His feelings from his mind. He is rational, leaded primary by his brain and not-

And n-not-

(Come on. Control your breath. Control yourself. One… two…three…)

In any way, under absolutely no circumstances by his feeli-

(Focus. Focus on something, something, some- a book! Take one of the books. Right. Very well. Focus!)

…

Damn.

His breath came out a little weaker, shaking. He tightened his grip in the fabric of his pants, closing his blue eyes and trying to focus on his own heartbeat, which seemed to reverberate in his dry throat,  attempting to correct his breathing with its.

Inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled. Rested his head against the couch, sinking a little deeper into it. Some part of himself was thankful that it was already night, which meant the bookstore were closed and there was no danger of an incident.

There was no danger.

He settled back a little more on the furniture, held the book again, with a little firmer grip than needed as he readjusted it to a more comfortable position where there would be no danger in his thick, warm tears researching its pages, eventually falling and blurring the words of its lovely sentences.

At least it was night, a night just like any other night bathered in a weather of every other nights where there would be no incidents.

“Angel…?”

… Damn.

Crow approached closer to the upright, perfect posed form, seeking his eyes and staring deeply into them, their gold glittering in the night pitch. Az didn’t tried to hide these vulnerable moments, at least not anymore, but neither did he showed them when they became present. His voice came out a little faltering, yet in the calm and characteristic tune he always had.

“Crow, dear, I thought you were already sleeping.”

“I just woke up for a cup of tea.”

They both knew this was a lie, still none of them really mentioned such information when the one with dark hair as the ebony of the night, a night just as any other one, removed the book of his carefully manicured hands and held them for a moment, intertwining their fingers as he got closer enough to finally entwining him in a hug. He loosened the hold for a brief second, only to position the angel’s head on his shoulder, and then tightly hug him again. It was as he was trying to  show that nothing, on Earth, Hell or Heaven, would be able to hurt the angel without going over him, first.

It might seemed as any other previous hug, if it wasn’t for the fabric of his pajamas getting gradually wetter and the slight shivers and sniffles that slipped from the mouth of the one with blonde, almost white, hair. His cry was silently, and for a light of moment, Crow remembered his own cry, which could be described as any other, just a bit louder and with rumpled clothes.

He shook lightly his head, focusing in the present, in the possibilities, the sentences and words that would be said after the storm. His mind felt lethargic and yet running in full speed almost at the same time. Crow combed Az’s hair and gave small, but big in meaning, pecks in his neck without even noticing.

The time itself lost meaning in this piece of time.

A hand tapped softly his back and his head slightly lifted. It was the signal to break the touch, and it was promptly obeyed.

“Do you want to talk about this?” His voice was a special whisper, packed, designated and delivered to just only one being in the entire universe.

“There is nothing to be said.” Even with everything, his voice still lacked major flaws or slips. It was made of a calm, sad nature. “It is just…” And the owner of hundreds of books, reader for thousands years and maestro of words ended up losing himself in them.

‘It’s just…’  Crow wondered if even the humans, at some point of their existence, could understand all the feelings and sensations between the lines that this phrase could possess.

Probably.

Everyone does, in some way or another, doesn’t it?

The black-haired never paid much attention to time, especially after such thing already fulfilled its basic function of lead him as far as possible from that particular century. However, this day, he almost could see the sand of hourglass pouring grain-by-grain as he let the angel running his fingers through his hair, pressing his back on the blonde’s sweater and stroking the back of the other’s hand with his thumb. His warmth and presence were the necessary reminders that Az needed to focus on the here, in the Bookstore rocked by this ordinary night, and now, with the best company he could ever wish to be.

A piece more of time was spent. Maybe two, three, and perhaps a little more.

…

“We should go out.”

“What are you rambling about, Crow love? We always go out.”

“No. I mean… for something different! Not just a lunch.”

“A day to just wander, you mean?”

“Maybe.” Shrugged, pondering, his tongue absently wriggling in the ar. Az tightened a bit more the touch, feeling lighter as allowed his mind travel and dance between some possibilities for the future meaning of this conversation. “We should make a picnic!”

“A picnic?’

“Yes! In any place, nearby or far away! We could take the food or milacre it there. I can give you a ride.”

His head turned, his heart floating and expanding when he saw that the trail of tears had faded from his husband’s face, and now the red was also beginning to gradually leave his skin.

Az pondered for a few minutes, eyes gleamming.

“I don’t think I’ve ever married at a picnic before.” Smiled, and part of his soul melted with the beauty in the other’s happy expression, along with the smile that also was painted in the demon’s face, he was absolutely sure.

“Let me tempt you, then.” Crow hissed, carrying on their internal joke, since they, after their last wedding-lunch, decided that from now on there would be no more dates, only weddings.

Az raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful disbelief look. Their foreheads met. The angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a light, which came neither from the stars, cars, poles and nor the living room lamp, little by little filling his being.

“I love you, Aziraphale.” Their eyes met.

“I love you too, my husband.”

Perhaps they had spent some time like this, in silence, enjoying themselves. Perhaps they had slowly moved away right after the talk, holding hands, a warm feeling in their chest. Who really knows? It is a moment only for them, so let it be.

“The preparations should be started, then!” The one with blue limpid eyes, now up, excitedly leaded to the kitchen. “Milacre a massive amount of food certainly would alert your side just as mine, so, I believe the best option we got is cook by our own.”

Crow scowled, which evolved to as annoyed expression as received the lightly incisive and inquisitive look from the other, puffing up his cheeks and deviating the glare as he dispirited followed his steps into the other room.

“Fffffffine.” Gave up of the dream to sleep that night. However, deep inside, he knew worth it just to watch the blonde-haired angel calmly, excited walking his eyes and fingers through the Recipe Books were under his care. Urg. The sacrifices that must be made. “But I’m not using a patterned apron!”

And the cars drove through the streets, the stars hardly glowed in the sky and the worlds kept not an even bit silent during that sunless hours, just as any other night of any other day. Nevertheless, on that store, more specifically a Bookstore, at that moment and for those two, maybe this wasn’t a common night anymore, and would definitely lead to a day not even a little ordinary, either.

A recipe book was open, some bright smiles (maybe trying to help the stars?) too.

“Sure, my dear. I would never…” replied Az, trying to decide which color would most highlight Crow’s duck patterned pajamas.

[smooch-that-bot]

Howdy!! May I request MTMTE Megatron crushing on a human poet/singer? Tysm I'm the big gay for him

{We’re all big gays for this big man}

---------------

You’re the new liason from Earth. Sent to the Lost Light to restore relations between humans and cybertronians. As you enter the room a smaller red and white bot rushes over and the first to greet you; asking a whirlwind of questions before Ultra Magnus pulls him away to let you breath. Everyone has questions about the status of Earth wondering how humanitys fared after all those years dealing with the war on earth. Everyone except Megatron. He stands in the back and watches everyone crowd around you. When your eyes meet he quickly looks away before leaving the room. 

Eventually the excitement dies down and bots slowly trickle out of the room. Soon it’s only you and the bot you now know as Swerve. He looks like he might explode from not being to talk. “Hey..um it’s Swerve,right?” He nods and puffs up his chest. 

“Swerve’s the name,serving drinks is my game! Oh,I’m also a metallurgist.” You chuckle at his outburst and before you know it the two of you are walking back to Swerve’s bar chatting up a storm. “So Y/n what do you get up to when you’re not… ya know restoring peace?” Swerve stands behind the counter polishing glasses and making sure the energon is in stock. You sit on the edge of the counter;kicking your legs back and forth while thinking. 

“Oh well I- I sing and write poetry. Kinda dorky right?” You hear clinking and turn around to see Swerve fumbling with a glass before putting it down and staring at you.

“What! No that’s awesome! Ya know you should...oh primus! You should perform at my bar.” Swerve smiles widely. He’s almost vibrating in excitement. You bite your lip and fidget with your clothes “Swerve I don’t-” “Please Y/n this place is in desperate need of entertainment.” Swerve tries to pull out the puppy dog eyes or at least you think that’s what he’s trying to do. “Oh fine how could I say no.” You grin at Swerve as he pumps his fist in the air. 

“I’ll see you later tonight superstar!” Swerve sends you a wink as you hop off the counter and exit the bar. You playfully roll your eyes and wave goodbye.

“See you Swerve. Try not to talk some poor bots audials off.” 

You wander off towards where Ultra Magnus said your room would be but the ship is so large and the hallways begin to blend together. Before you know it you’re lost and tired. Your feet throb with every step you take and your stomach rumbles loudly every so often. “Ughhh why does this ship have to be so huge, who designed this thing?” As you complain there’s the thump of someone walking up ahead. A spark of joy flares up inside of you and you run toward the sound. You round the corner and run smack into the back of some bots peds. “I’m so sorry I got excited and uh guess I didn’t have time to stop.” You stand back and look up at the bot you ran into. 

Megatron’s red optics stare back “It’s quite alright...erm excuse me but I don’t know your name.” He almost looks nervous to speak to you. He constantly shifts his eyes and hesitates to get closer to you. “I’m Y/n. I saw you in the back, you didn’t say hi or anything.” Megatron crinkles his eyes and sighs. 

“I apologize Y/n. I didn’t think you’d want me to say anything.” 

“Ahhh because of you and your history with Earth.” 

“I’ve done many terrible things to your planet and brought unnecessary conflict to innocent people.” He clenches his fists. Trying to shift further away from your gaze. 

“We’ve been able to rebuild. The wars on Earth are now our past. Many people have moved beyond that; we look to the future now. All that happened millions of years ago; people just want to move on.” Your lips curl into a gentle smile. You look at Megatron,his mouth is agape slightly but he quickly shuts it. 

“I see.” There’s a long pause between the two of you. With only the slight hum of fans to provide alleviation from the silence. “Well enjoy the rest of your night.”He takes a final glance at you before beginning to walk away.

“Megatron wait I- well I’m lost. I was trying to find my room.” He pauses barely turning his head to face you and nods for you to follow him. 

As you trail him you find yourself having to jog to keep up with his long strides. At some point Megatron takes notice. He kneels before you and lowers his hand.

“It’s easier this way.” You hear the hum of fans starting up as you gingerly step into his palm. You shake as you try to keep your balance while Megatron rises and starts walking.  “Thank you, this is easier.” Megatron grunts in acknowledgement.  

Soon after you come to a stop in front of a large door. You look down and see a smaller door was built into the existing door. Megatron carefully lowers his hand down allowing you to hop off. You turn to him and pat his hand “Thanks again. You should stop by Swerve’s bar I’ll be performing poetry later.” Megatron’s optics widen slightly before he regains his composure,

“I’ll see if I can make it.” With a curt nod he turns on his peds and disappears down the hallway.

You check your watch and realize there’s only a few hours before you have to be at Swerve’s. You change into more casual clothing and grab your poetry book. You quickly rehearse what you wanted to perform then skid out the door in a hurry. From where your room is it’s a straight shot to the bar and you arrive with just enough time to talk to Swerve.

“Hey superstar, ready to dazzle the crowd?” Swerve greets with a fist bump then leans in to whisper to you,“I’d been practicing my fist bump.” He grins as you groan at his utter ridiculousness.

“Great job Swerve really knocked it outta the park.” Swerve ushers you to the stage and helps you onto a stool then places a microphone in front of you. He scurries back to the bar counter and gives you a thumbs up.

You look out to the crowd and many glowing optics look back. You fumble with your poetry book a bit before opening to a bookmarked page. You take a deep breath closing your eyes and letting go of the nerves that rack your body. When you open your eyes there in the back you see Megatron and for whatever reason your body relaxes and you shoot him a smile. 

“This poem is called Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You see Megatron’s interest peak as he shifts his body to face the stage and leans in to listen. “Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; but only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief,so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” Swerve claps loudly and soon others follow in suit. Your eyes meet with Megatron's he smiles and claps then gets up heading out of the bar. Offering a glance over his shoulder. You climb down from the stool and rush out of the bar, careful to dodge bar patrons peds. When you get out of the crowded bar you find Megatron staring out a nearby window watching the passing stars. 

“That was a lovely poem. Perhaps we could write something together.” He softly glances at you from the corner of his optics. You turn to the window a smile growing on your face.

“I think I’d like that.”

------------

(Okay that was long here’s some headcanons: 

- Megatron is really supportive of your songs and poetry. You both like to just sit and write together it’s very calming

- Eventually after your relationship becomes a more public thing on the ship he would sit up front to watch you perform every time. If you ever got extremely nervous he would offer you gentle words and reassure you that you’d do spectacular.

- If any bot dared to insult your art Megs would almost flip his shit. His voice gets oddly calm but his aura radiates danger. He tells the bot off with a gentle voice but with an iron grip on their shoulder.

- He likes when you sing to him especially after a long and stressful day. He places you on his chest near his spark so you lay can relax as well. And he just lets you hum and sing a few tunes before powering down into a blissful rest.

- Before you got together he really thought he was being slick by writing romantic poems and having you read them

- You somehow started sending poems back and forth to each other through data pads. Everytime you’d send him a new poem Megs would feel hopeful and happy which he even though he didn’t think he could still feel that way anymore.

- Through his poems you got to know him better and he trusted you enough to even show you his darkest works and his poems about his grief and his esteem. 

- Basically y’all are the cool poetry nerds of the ship 

[hellishvu]

Imagine BTS: (Hyung Line) - when you two become a thing

A/N: i want to update as much as i can this week because this friday!! i’m going to see bts so i will probably be too busy with that, then I have to go to state literally a day later that i come back so please! be patience with me :D

-star

Yoongi:

— yoongi finds out about a new artist underground and he finds his muse but the problem is, he’s never seen the face of the man he can’t help but find inspiring.

Being an underground rapper the most important thing was 3 rules.

Keep battling others to show your title.

Keep your reputation high.

Be able to handle the audience.

For years Yoongi worked hard, every night to become one of the best rappers on the scene. Yoongi came and conquered to find his throne.

So when a new rapper starts to raise the ladder at a impression rate. Yoongi had to see the man himself. Yoongi preformed his regular nights calling them “Fire Friday’s”

Yoongi waited at the back of the club, hearing the announcer talk about this new rapper. The crowd was screaming almost deafening but it was the thrill of that crowd that made your heart run quick. The way adrenaline was pouring through your blood as you gave it your all.

You had came out, a rather outfit that didn’t show your face. You wanted them to hear you rather than look at you. You spoke through the words you rapped from your soul not the way your face looked. Yoongi had appreciated this the most. The craft was the most important part of a rapper’s career.

So when he was finished watching your show, you had inspired so many things within himself and since the backstage people knew him so well he could just walk into the backstage.

Yoongi searches through the many acts, trying to find that familiar outfit. Yoongi asked workers and rappers if they had saw you. Not an answer, Yoongi sighed in frustration as he walked to the back door.

The city breeze of a Friday night was relaxing as Yoongi looked at his phone seeing texts from his 6 friends. Yoongi replied telling them he had some business to take care of.

Yoongi walked back in and decided to call it a day as his friends were waiting for him so they can all go home.

Yoongi came back the next week, to the same event. Fire Friday being shown across the stage, Yoongi writing about you about how the greatest artists are unknown till they are found.

Yoongi got off stage as he stayed near the stage to wait till he heard the same voice. The flow was the same. “It’s him.” That’s all Yoongi could process as he waited and listened to the lyrics and the music.

Yoongi saw you get off stage as he stopped you immediately which shocked you at first never being approached so forceful.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be all over your shit, but I have to- I mean do you have time to talk?” Yoongi said as he partically begged. He’s been rather drained out of inspiration so meeting you was like a breath of fresh air.

You agreed as you both walked out of the same alley way Yoongi was last week. Yoongi stood awkwardly as he cleared his thought.

“Do you- I mean what is your story?” Yoongi asked as you had shared it with him. Yoongi listened and you took note of that as you smiled. You finished as Yoongi decided to tell you information that he rarely shared with new strangers.

You two kept in touch after that meeting, never shared your face as he never really asked. Yoongi had gained a liking to you wether he saw your face or not, he liked you. It was almost like a highschool crush. Waiting at his phone for you to text him and act all gushy.

“Do you want to maybe meet again? No masks? No club shit?”

You two would agree on a time and day and once Yoongi arrives he has trouble finding you. So he texts you and once he looks up he sees you waving at him and holy shit was all that was on Yoongi’s mind as you were like eye candy. Yoongi felt his heart race as he walked towards you, sitting down on the booth at the small restaurant.

“You’re gorgeous.” Yoongi thought out loud as he almost immediately apologized trying to save himself from the little stability he has.

“If you say that, I guess this is a date now?” You smirked as you got your lyric book giving him a page that you wrote naming it “Yoongi” it was a song all about him.

Namjoon:

— namjoon being known to be one of the biggest flirts and he usually plays around till he meets you. the problem is you’re a flirt yourself and he can’t help but become a mess.

Namjoon was probably the biggest flirt. He was a C.E.O and all his employees knew that he was joking half the time and it was just his personality to flirt.

So when he needed a new assistant due to one taking maturity leave. Namjoon would look around almost everywhere to find a new one. Once he laid eyes on your profile and your experience in this department he hired you on the spot. Probably a rather wreckless decision but in the end it was probably one of the best ones.

Namjoon would meet you and trying to get close would invite you to a coffee to know how you two can work together.

“Is that a date Mr.Kim?” You asked as Namjoon widen his eyes as shock ran through his body.

“I-No, of course not!” Namjoon would stutter through his sentence.

Two flirts... but one of them not knowing how to handle being flirted with. It’s only a disaster waiting. Namjoon had no one really flirt with him even if he is good looking for himself.

“Let’s keep it professional, alright Mr.Kim?” You winked as Namjoon looked back at your boxes of papers helping you unpack.

Namjoon... didn’t realize the mess he got himself into. The meetings you two would have and the typical flirts you would throw his way as the presentation was given making him stop focusing and tap his pen. You laughed thinking he knew you were joking right?

Namjoon spent nights in his bed thinking if you were joking or if you wanted something more. I mean... even if you two flirted you would get closer and share things just because you two were always seen together. Meetings, in his office, and you two had similar hours.

Namjoon was invited to a business party and requested that you joined him. Namjoon having help with his designer to pick a unique fashionable suit since this was an annually event.

You and Namjoon arrive at the event together looking stunning to the gods. You realize this was for a business point of view to make company with people and to get friendly.

You announced you were going to talk to companies and see if you can get some partners. Namjoon appreciated your way of thinking and set you off.

Namjoon walked to the bar wanting to get a drink and as he walked towards you, he saw you flirting with another male. I mean yeah you two weren’t dating persay but it still stung but he wouldn’t admit it.

He grabbed your arm and you waved goodbye, as you tried to hide your confusion of why Namjoon got so angry all of a sudden. You went into a guest room as Namjoon realized what he had just done and there was no turning back on this.

“Why did you drag me here?” You asked as you raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you flirting with that man?”

“What do you mean? I was doing business?”

“But- I- Are we a thing or not? I’m always so confused, you catch me staring all the time. You see me blush and fluster when you’re around!” Namjoon admits as his eyes start to gloss. The burning sensation in his eyes.

“Oh god- Namjoon I didn’t mean to.”

“So do you not like me?” Namjoon asked as you grabbed his wrists. Pulling him closer, you kissed his forehead.

“I like you Namjoon, a whole lot.” You snickered as Namjoon smiles.

Hoseok:

— hoseok being obsessed with a street artist, but turns out he catches him in the act and you propose a deal so you can keep your identity a secret.

Hoseok would see beautiful street art around Korea, the rise of street art would make him want to meet an artist someday. In his mind it would be a bucket list.

There was one artist that Hoseok just fell in love with. His initials would be on every piece so he could tell who did it. The instagram was full of pieces that Hoseok has seen around or new ones that he wanted to find.

Hoseok walked home one late night, seeing that he had stayed late for taking his friends shift due to them having a family emergency.

Hoseok walked through the streets at night with his earplugs in. His favorite chill music filling his ears as the cold wind blew.

Hoseok turned the corner to see a male spray painting. Hoseok’s stopped like deer in headlights as he came closer to the male. Seeing that his mask was off since he was finishing the last touches of the pieces.

Maybe Hoseok should learn his situation on how it’s very late at night and sneaking behind someone’s back was probably not the best idea.

“Why don’t you have your mask on?” Hoseok asked causing the spraypainter to jump. He turned around as Hoseok noticed the signature, it was him... WAIT HIM?

“Oh shit” He said before grabbing his backpack wanting to leave in a hurry. Hoseok pleased that he can explain.

“Wait! I didn’t mean to like see your whole identity. I just got off of work!” Hoseok pleaded with you as you put back your mask trying to have him forget your features.

“Well what do you want?” You asked as you quirked an eyebrow taking off your earphones, to hear Hoseok more clearly.

“What do you mean? We could just never speak of this again.” Hoseok said rubbing the back of his head.

“No, what if you leave here. Tell everyone and I’m exposed for the rest of my lifetime.” You said exaggerating with hand motions.

“Okay probably not a li-“

“That’s not important! Anything? Want me to teach you how to spray paint? Want me to draw a piece for your girlfriend? Anything?”

“Okay first off, if anything it will be a boyfriend. What about if we just hang out together! Call me when you spray!” Hoseok cheered as you sighed realizing asking for anything was a mistake... maybe.

You two exchanged numbers and everytime you would finish a piece with Hoseok watching. He would always compliment it. No matter how long or how short the piece took. Hoseok would run from work when he did have a late shift to see you again. Talking just face to face when you two met only turned into texting and wanting to actually hang out outside of the “deal”.

You realized compared to your older pieces without Hoseok. They were darker, and your followers noticed it and assumed you got a boyfriend as a joke. Nowadays pieces were full of color, Hoseok choosing the main color of reds and yellows.

You did sense that Hoseok was beganing to grow a bit distant. You would text him the address and he would arrive later than usual. In reality, Hoseok began to have a massive crush on you. Hoseok took so long to get ready because he changed outfits at least 3 times. Looking in the mirror before he just took off to see you realizing the time. Hoseok wouldn’t look at the piece anymore. He would just look at you, the side views of your face, and just your aura was addicting.

The next day, Hoseok sent you an address and you were confused but he said to “just come before I regret this.” You grabbed your backpack and headed his way.

You walked to the alleyway, Hoseok sent and you saw him standing with flowers, full on blush across his face as you chuckled. You turned the corner and you saw it.

“I like you a lot, will you go out with me?” with spray paint.

“You stole my black!” You said as Hoseok realized what you had just said.

“Really? You’re worried about your black! You know how long-”

“Oh shut up and let me take you out my treat.”

Seokjin:

— seokjin has been pressured to date by his friends and to bring someone to their romantic outing so when he sees you on tinder he begs you for this favor till he actually starts to like you.

“Seokjin you need a date! Just find someone, we don’t want to go without you there” Seokjin’s friend explained as he sighed once again. This wasn’t the first time he was somehow pressured into finding someone. He knew his friend didn’t mean harm but it was tough.

“I will. Don’t worry, I’ll have a date tomorrow.” Seokjin smiled as he waved goodbye catching his bus to go home. Seokjin looked through the apple store finding the classic dating app.

Tinder, had been one of the most popular ones. Seokjin made a profile and saw through matches. Switching left and right till he landed on someone that met his eye.

“Y/N” was his name as Seokjin right swiped as the match was set immediately. Seokjin was sent to a chat room.

“I’m going to be honest. I need a date for a friends date. I’ll even pay you just for one night please?”

“wow straight to the point I see.”

Somehow you agreed to this because Seokjin seemed like a nice guy to you. He told you the place and the time and you showed up 5 minutes late seeing Seokjin looking around the cafe saying “He’ll be here soon”.

You greeted them as Seokjin widen his eyes... you looked a lot better in person then on your profile. Your photos did not do you justice compared to real life. Seokjin had to get himself together as he nodded and smiled. Seeing his friend have a great reaction to him, you looking put together.

“Oh yes, so how did you two meet ?” Panic was all over you and Seokjin’s face as you two looked at eachother. You covered the awkward silience with a laugh. Hoping Seokjin can take one for the team and explain.

“I meet him through a Beyoncé concert.” Seokjin said as you agreed trying not to show any panic on your face.

“Oh really? Wow that was so long ago. You’ve must have known eachother for quite some time.” You laughed as you hit Seokjin with your elbow queuing him to laugh.

You two acted all lovey dovery all night due to one: just for the acting of being a couple for Seokjin’s friends and two: you two actually started to enjoy each other’s company.

You told stories about your life while they assumed Seokjin had heard these already, he hadn’t so he was so intrigued in the stories almost looking at you like you were the only person in this restaurant. You would look at him while explaining and everything would go in slow motion for Seokjin. His heart raced as he felt more flustered as you stared at him.

“Alright, thank you! For inviting us out we have to go since Seokjin has work tomorrow.” You said as you offered Seokjin your hand to get up from his chair, Seokjin hestitated before you gave him the okay.

You walked Seokjin to your car. You opened your car door and Seokjin sat down seeing you actually had a nice car.

“I assumed that went well?” You snickered as you turned on the engine.

“Can we go to the park?” Seokjin asked as you were taken back by how late it was but you did look up to see stars shine.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You agreed.

The two of you would walk around and you would check in on Seokjin seeing him shiver as you took off your coat to give it to him. He would delcine it at first but you insisted. The warm cozy feeling in his gut as he wanted to confess right then and there.

“Do you maybe want to go on a real date?” Seokjin asked as you snickered.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that all night.”

[botslayer]

Triple reboot review. (Puppet Master the Littlest Reich, Titans, Mega Man: Fully Charged)

Okay, Now, while I have yet to see these things in full (Titans being nothing more than a trailer right now, Littlest Reich not being out in the general public yet to my knowledge, and only having seen a preview of MMFC), But quite frankly, fuck you. I’m angry, I had a shit day, let me do some Sabre Rattling for the properties I like. 

Up First, this sneak peek of Mega Man: Fully Charged:

https://youtu.be/MWMopzUcG_Q

So we have a character who needs to blow his fucking nose, It is a massive distraction everytime he’s on screen, his voice is also the worst in the clip in my opinion. Megaman’s “Civilian” form also looks dull. The only thing that would make him stand out in a crowd is his stupidly big hair. 

Also: WHY DOES HE HAVE A CIVILIAN FORM?! In the games, he has an “Armorless” mode, yeah, but at the same time, that is usually just for when the Robot Masters aren’t a threat. Why, if you could just be walking around and suddenly, giant jet lady robot attacks, would you ever get OUT of the armored mode? In the old show that was just how he looked, he could still talk with people, hold conversations, etc. And while, yes, it is sort of weird to talk to the dude with a laser blaster built into him, A LOT of the Robot masters were built for specific jobs and given non-human anatomy to distinguish them from regular people. (At least that’s my headcanon.) The point is if this version of Mega Man is a kid with a Power Rangers/Beetleborgs-esque “Normal kid life mixed with superhero stuff.” (As implied by the “No one’s looking.”) WHY? Why not build a robot with the shit you just gave this kid!? There’s a big fat half-jet lady taking up good space begging that particular question. If he IS a robot, what does it matter that no one’s watching? Does he not want people to know he’s a robot? How would they not? I don’t care how “human” he may look if he’s avoiding certain “Human” activities too much (Say, Eating, resting, drinking, what have you) then it will probably be obvious.

Going on, Mega Man’s voice is annoying as hell. I don’t have anything to add to that, I just hate his voice. The armor isn’t TOO bad, maybe a LITTLE too busy, but if he is a robot you could explain the lights as “System failure in shoulder” making that light turn red or something, but if he isn’t what is it other than decoration? Plus there are lots of un-needed lines, but you don’t really have to convince me that it’s Megaman, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters. (I would also like to point out his Helmet looks more like X’s, which might be an interesting visual easter egg if intentional)

The random cut to the Pixel animation was stupid, sudden, and REALLY broke the (minimal) flow that fight had going. I will say though, the ending joke is good. So out of that entire clip, I had 3 good things to say... Jesus this is gonna suck. 

And don’t give me any of that “Well it isn’t for you” bullshit, we all know full well that a reboot should probably do SOMETHING to appeal to the old fans in some way. And the way they tried to do that here was bullshit. It was like when Power Rangers Operation Overdrive tried to ape the first episode of Light Speed Rescue without really getting what made that work. 

And lastly, I don’t mind Blasto Woman. They should have just used an old Robot Master, though, to be fair, someone like Metal Man would probably be too edgy. (Bah-dumb Tiss)

In short: High hopes for a new Mega Man cartoon, dashed from a single clip.

Up next: Puppet Master, The Littlest Reich:

https://youtu.be/rtSF_-Gyl40

For starters, Toulon looks creepy in a way that he just shouldn’t. I read a review that spoiled a LOT of the movie and quite frankly, I am not impressed. This all looks and sounds like a gore hound’s wet dream, and while I like buckets o’ guts, that isn’t the point of Puppet Master. 

Blade looks like shit design-wise, he and Torch both look Too Plasticky for my tastes, there’s a weird froggy looking one that reminds me of the Joker (Due to the lighting), and it’s all, in my SO’s words, “a giant morality swap AU.” Which I agree with. Andre didn’t make the puppets to torture and kill people constantly, he made them to keep his friends' spirits alive and fight against Nazis. This is so stupid. AGH. Look, before I die of an aneurysm, as there anything I LIKED?

I like that Blade’s knife is hidden in his hand, that is fairly clever design. I also liked the brief snippet look at Pinhead, he doesn’t look terrible, at least. plus, the Frog dude (”Amphibian”) Is okay, and they express SOME logic in the killer sentient puppets. Logic you could see from a mile off, mind you, but I like that they sat down and explained it a little. The closing “joke” is also okay. That is all the goodwill I have.

Finally, Titans:

https://youtu.be/d6rWiM1BQ5E

So... Fuck this trailer. 

Let me explain some shit: Robin being some sort of cop, I can accept. That isn’t a bad idea, I think that happens a few times in the comics, even. no, the problem is just about everything after he whips the “R” into a wall or whatever he hit. 

For starters, Raven looks weird. Like she looks like a Half-ass Cosplayer. Now, while I’m a fan of Cosplay and see that you can do just about anything, long as the character is recognizable, she looks like the epitome of “No fucks given, lol.” and just going in pseudo-goth attire. And then the slightly infamous “Fuck Batman.” ... Yeah. “Fuck the guy that wanted to help me seek justice for my parents being shot.” “Fuck the guy who probably stopped me from slaughtering all these kinds of thugs in the past.” Fuck you, Dick. If this was Jason Todd or Damian Wayne, I’d go “Yeah, sure, why not?” BUT IT’S DICK GRAYSON! (Most likely) and if it isn’t, they are intentionally misleading people with this trailer, if you have to do that, you are part of a trash project. Although I will say I can’t weigh in on most of the costume, so that might look alright. 

Raven having to deal with a demon inside her as a more constant part of the show rather than “Whenever” is a good change if it is indeed put in. 

Beast Boy looks wrong. He looks like Trip from Time Force without the head gem. 

Am I the only one who sees this?! I know “Green skin.” But that isn’t helping by much given that second look we got of him at the end where he looks to be a pale little shit. 

Star Fire looks god awful. Everyone says it, I say it too. “Prostitute.” She looks like a hooker with a wig, really whacked out eyes, and an outfit that screams “I will suck your whatever for the right price.” Her skin looks weird with that “Crawling” effect, AND FOR THE LOVE OF TZEENTCH, WHY ARE HER POWERS ORANGE FLAME!? WHY ISN’T SHE USING STAR BOLTS!?

Then there are Hawk and Dove seen mutilating some dude about as bad as Robin... and why? Why are hawk and dove lacerating some poor bastard’s knee? Some context for that would have been nice, especially when Dove looks to be the one doing it and she isn’t that sadistic! I don’t have anything to say about how they look because I didn’t get a good enough look.

Finally, We have a line that agitates me. “My mom says there’s no such things as monsters.” ... BITCH YOU LIVE IN THE DC UNIVERSE! THERE IS A DEMON LIVING INSIDE YOU/YOU ARE HALF DEMON, PARADEMONS ARE A THING, MEDUSA EXISTS, THERE IS A COUNTRY OF TALKING GORILLAS, MARS HAS A REAL BAD RACISM ISSUE, THERE ARE ENTIRE UNIVERSAL SCALE POLICE FORCES DEDICATED TO EMOTION USING ALL MANNER OF ALIENS, YOU SAY THIS WHILE RIDING WITH A DUDE WHO IS CLEARLY A KILLING MACHINE, FUCK WHAT YOUR MOTHER SAID! “MONSTERS EXIST!” WOULDN’T BE A SURPRISE AT THAT POINT, ALL I’M SAYING!

And even if most of that shit isn’t a THING in this continuity, I still want to point out Raven’s demon thing and who she tells that too. I hate it when this shit happens in anything. “No such things as monsters.” That is actively harder to belive in ANY comic book universe.

TL;DR, Fuck all of these projects, they all look like garbage.

[albionscastle]

Mistletoe Kisses

Just a little imagine based on an anon request for cuddling with Jack on Christmas Eve.

So fluffy I actually want to be sick. 

Apart from the anon certain parts of this are specially dedicated to @flowerthroughdisarray   you know what you did.

FIC MASTERLIST

MISTLETOE KISSES

It was 8pm on Christmas Eve and the snow was coming down hard. You stood at the window watching, the full moon illuminating the crisp white landscape outside. Behind you, Jack shuffled around in the kitchen, finishing with the dishes from dinner. You could see his reflection in the window where he couldn’t see you watching him.

His flopped over his forehead, soft and fluffy when it wasn’t full of product. He bit his lip in concentration as he stretched to put away a casserole dish in the top cupboard, his t-shirt riding up to bare an inch of skin above the waistband of his sweatpants. In a bit over three years you never got tired of looking at him, though he still apparently couldn’t figure out why.

“Are we watchin the movie, luv?” he called as he slung the tea towel over the dish rack.

You turned from the window, smiling. He stood by the couch, blanket in one hand, dvd in the other.

“Of course we are babe.”

It was tradition, one started your first holiday together, your first in the UK. You had been feeling lonely, missing your family, but also happy to be with Jack. He’d taken it in, sent you shopping in the city with his sister and turned the flat into a Christmas wonderland. He’d held your hand when you teared up Skyping your mom, hung mistletoe in every room so he could kiss you everytime you walked by and made you laugh with his ridiculous commentary on your favorite Christmas movie.

Since then you’d alternated holidays with your families but he’d kept those traditions alive. You walked to the kitchen to make some popcorn, sensing him behind you. Deliberately you passed under the mistletoe he’d hung, smiling to yourself when you felt his hand gently on your hip. You stopped, letting him step up behind you, flush with your back.

Jack brushed your hair aside, pressing his lips to your neck.

“Merry Christmas Mrs Lowden.” he whispered.

You turned, your arms sliding around his slim waist, lifting your face up to grin stupidly at him. You absolutely loved it when he called you that.

“Merry Christmas Mr Lowden.”

He smiled before he kissed you, eyes bright as he pulled away.

“You’re an awfully good looking man, you know.” you grinned.

“Stop tha’.” he muttered, cheeks turning red.

You laughed, grabbing a bowl for the popcorn. Jack might have been a hotshot movie star, but underneath he was still a bit shy, still blushing whenever you made your attraction to him so obvious. So naturally you went overboard, often, just to see him squirm.

Turning from the microwave you giggled as he bent over at the fridge, his sweats pulling tight over his thighs and rear.

“Nice ass.” “Quit!” he was bright red, even his ears which you thought was absolutely adorable.

“Quit what?” you asked innocently, sauntering the few steps to where he stood, placing your hand on his hip as you circled around him. On your tiptoes you nuzzled your nose along the back of his neck, your hand sliding from his hip to his rear as you moved around him, squeezing.”

“Jesus woman, I thought ye were makin popcorn, not grabbin me bum like I’m a piece o meat.”

He was smiling though.

“But it's such a nice bum, babe.” you squeezed again, laughing as you moved off to get the popcorn.

Jack went into the lounge, muttering under his breath and shaking his head. He might act like he was bothered, but he loved it and later, as always, he would show you exactly how much.

“Get a move on lass! Movie’s startin!”

He sat on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, your favourite throw blanket beside him. This was your favourite part and you gleefully flopped yourself down, head in his lap as he pulled the blanket over you. As always, for the most part, the popcorn remained untouched as the movie played. Jack kept one hand playing with your hair, the other you claimed, splaying out his fingers and tracing them with your own. You loved his hands with their long, tapered fingers and large palms. You loved to watch them when he talked, to touch them in these moments, to feel them on you in others.

The movie played through, Jack’s usual commentary causing you to guffaw loudly and roll your eyes. His jokes were always overly corny and bad but you loved them, just as you loved him.

The movie over you sat up, one more part of the yearly ritual completed, the one you were looking forward to most still to come. You sat cross legged on the floor by the tree, lights twinkling and reflecting off the tinsel. Jack joined you, a mug of hot chocolate for each of you and a ridiculous looking santa hat perched on his head.

“Ohhhh sexy Santa!” you giggled when he shot you a dirty look.

“Who open’s first?”

“I do, it was your turn last year, remember?”

You clapped your hands with glee when he reached under the tree for a small package, wrapped in his signature style.

Messy, like a drunken elf had been let loose in the wrapping room.

He tried though, he really did, and it was endearing how proud he was of himself.

You tore into the wrapping, revealing a box made from leather and designed to look like an original edition of Persuasion.

“Oh Jack, it’s gorgeous!” you loved it, and you loved how well he knew you.

“Ye haf tae open it, silly goose.”

Of course. With Jack a gift was never that simple.

Inside the box was a purple velvet pillow on which lay a perfectly preserves stem of heather.

“It’s the same one ah gave ye the first time ah brought ye tae Scotland.”

He looked so damn pleased with himself, so hopeful and eager, like a giant puppy.

Your eyes welled.

“God dammit Jack, how do you even exist?”

Wiping your eyes with the back of your hands you leaned over, smooshing your face against his chest. Your hands rested on his knees, his ran up and down your back soothingly as you sniffled against him.

“I cannae tell if ye like it or hate it.” he murmured.

“I love it, you romantic goob.” you managed to sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing.

He laughed, extracting you from him and looking at you expectantly.

“My turn.”

That fucking smile of his got you every time. You literally could refuse him nothing or stay mad at him when he smiled at you. And you’d tried, a lot.

This Christmas Eve tradition of one gift had started with a bet the November of your first year together. He’d brought back some cheesy, meaningful gift from his press trip and you’d quipped about it. He’d bet you that you couldn’t out cheese him, that no one was as over-the-top romantic as he was. So far he’d won, all three Christmases, and this was the best yet. You had to hand it to him, the man knew what he was doing.

But you had him this year.

You giggled as he tore into his package like an excited child, wrapping paper flying around him.

He pulled out a small scrapbook, a project you’d been working on in secret for weeks. You watched him over the rim of your mug as he opened it, eyes scanning the pages you’d worked on meticulously.

“Ohhhhh wow.” he whispered, running fingers over pages filled with photos of your story from your first meeting to now. “This is amazin.”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob the way it only did when he was trying not to cry. There were letters from you to him on every page, your memories and feelings about each event, along with little souvenirs. It was as sappy and as cheesy as they came.

He closed it, blinking his suddenly very bright eyes before pulling you over to curl into his lap.

“I love it lass, and I love ye.”

You smiled, knowing what was coming. It was a draw right now, but you were about to take it for the win.

“You should check out the last page Jack, I left something extra special there.”

His brows rose, a smile on his lips as he opened his book again, flipping through to the end. You knew what was there, expected a reaction. Your husband didn’t disappoint. His mouth fell open, hands started shaking, tears welling up in his eyes.

Gotcha babe.

“Really? This is…….really?” he whispered incredulously.

He looked at the page again. It only contained three things that you’d managed to sneak in the already wrapped book the day before, while he was in the shower. There was a picture, black and white, fuzzy and labeled and underneath, two words written while you’d been crying.

“Hi Daddy.”

[insomniamagic]

Bokuroo Week 2018 Day 5; Prompt - College

Words:     6962

Bokuto and Kuroo never answered the calling of a sports career. They choose an academic path, forcing them to miss their first meeting on a volleyball court. Kuroo and Bokuto meet anyway, their stars always aligning with each other, crossing with each other, following one another.

Read on AO3 or under the cut! Thank you so much :) 

Regarding the picture - my camera and scanner hate me...

Every story you tell, every letter you write, every dance you give, I will follow your heart

 “Akaashi. I saw him. Again! We met and this time we talked, haha. Ha. I was so worried, like, what do I do? What do I do? I was so lucky, you won´t believe how lucky I was! He started to convo first, phew. Actually, I don´t like to write long messages, but you know, since you are away for some time and this is important, I think I might do just that. Well, listen. Eh, read…”

 Bokuto bursts into the library as a fully loaded truck with a tower of books leaning over his head. The sign alerting everyone to keep silent means nothing to him as he makes weird noises trying to balance the books. There was no grace in his movements and no chance for him to keep his already wavering stability with so many textbooks he will probably never even start reading.

Everything falls down like a house of cards. “Sorry, I am so sorry!” He yells and puts palm over his mouth immediately. “Sorry, I´ll be quiet from now on. Sorry.” Bokuto tries to apologize silently, his speech slowing down, volume rising up.

His eyes widen, seeing the librarian fuming and walking right towards him. “I´ll take care of that. He is new here,” says a man in a wine red shirt with dark, messy hair. Bokuto squints his eyes. He seems familiar.

“I don´t care, just keep quiet.” Librarian´s tone got a bit softer. She turns on a heel and strides away.

Bokuto tries to pick the books up, when he hears a low cackling. He stares back up, right into the very pretty face of a man in red. Bokuto swallows saliva clumped on his tongue, persuading his stare to look away from those hazel eyes and sharp featured face. The thin black glasses certainly didn´t help making him any less attractive.

The squealing noise comes out from between his lips. Yes, of course he knows him. He saw him at their apartment building, leaving Sawamura´s place. Bokuto remembers the wink he got, forever burned inside right in the middle of his brain. “I am sure it´s only me who remembers,” he thinks.

Before he can stop his train of scattered thoughts, he panics. “Oh no,” his mind shouts at him. The last time he found someone attractive was a straight man. If the history repeats itself, he would be so screwed and not in a good way. Thankfully, he couldn´t care less about “being screwed” anyway.

“Are you okay?” Man shakes his head, still smiling. “Sorry, my name is Kuroo Tetsurou. Do you need help?”

Bokuto hardly nods, his body completely stiff.

“Come on, let´s go my friend!” First, Kuroo tidies the books into two manageable piles, then he puts his arms under Bokuto´s slumped body to help him get up.

Finally, that muscled body cooperates. “I am sorry,” Bokuto mumbles.

“That´s fine.” Kuroo takes the first pile of books, Bokuto grabs the second one. “You can sit with me if you´d like.”

“Why?” We are strangers, Bokuto thinks, although his whole being hopes for anything but to part their ways. There was something charming about Kuroo, some spark he wishes to catch.

Kuroo turns to him, showing a bit of his perfect profile. “Yes, we basically are. Maybe I am mistaken, I thought it was you I saw the last time at the apartment building. Third floor?”

Bokuto gasps. “No, no, actually, yes, of course. I didn´t realize-“

“Then it´s all good, right? We know each other a little. At least, we both have a mutual acquaintance, right? I can leave you alone if you wish to.”

Bokuto´s insides dance for a second before giving an answer. “I would be grateful for some company.” They sit down, Bokuto in awe. “He remembers.”

“Well?”

Bokuto is startled by the question, his nose already in his unreadable notes. “Hm?”

“What do you study?” Kuroo inquires, chin resting on his joint hands, smirk hiding right behind them.

“Ehm-“ Bokuto stares down at his scribbles. “Interior design.” He can hear the unenthusiastic tone coming from under his breath.

Kuroo raises one eyebrow. “Oho? Is it that boring?”

“What? No-“ he closes his mouth and frowns. “It´s fine. It´s my first year so I have to get used to it. My best friend is studying on the other side of the country and I am somewhat- what is the word for it? I don´t know how to deal with things without him steadying me. That´s all. And maybe, maybe I thought of a different path once.” Bokuto waits for a reaction. “What?” He whines as Kuroo examines his face with intense focus.

“Nothing,” Kuroo puts his hands down. “You like oversharing with strangers, hm?”

“Oversharing?” Bokuto didn´t think of it that way. He didn´t care what others knew about his life. “You?”

“Also first year, languages and literature. I thought about studying abroad.” Kuroo corrects his glasses and taps the biggest book Bokuto ever saw. “Myths and legends. And some of my notes.” He hides those pretty quickly.

Bokuto´s eyes sparkle with joy. “Beautiful handwriting. Not as beautiful as Akaashi´s, but very pretty.” Then he turns to his own notebook. “Eh, I know it´s not readable, I-“

“No problem,” Kuroo smiles and yelps too loud when examining the scribbles, immediately apologizing to those around him. “It´s not that bad,” Kuroo says unexpectedly.

“What? I can´t read it myself!” Bokuto is horrified, shocked and impressed.

Kuroo chuckles. “Come on, it´s alright. Do you want me to decipher your own writings?”

“Yes, please,” Bokuto answers, knowing Kuroo will refuse him. It couldn´t have been an honest offer.

Kuroo contemplates for a bit, pen twirling in his fingers. “Okay. If you´ll lend me these papers, I can give it to you at the end of the week, clear as day.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No.” Every ounce of joking is gone for a moment. “I offered, you said please, I make good on my promises.”

Bokuto opens his mouth to protest, but Kuroo´s stare shuts him up. Instead, he asks: “Do you like your studies?” He eyes the book again.

“Yes,” Kuroo nods. “As you said, there might have been a different path once, but I am happy here.”

“What was that different path?”

“Wow, no filter, huh?” Kuroo isn´t angry, quite the opposite. “Actually, it was sports. I wasn’t sure I was good enough, so I made my second choice.”

Bokuto has been unable to talk for some time, occupied by his surprise.

“Is it so unbelievable or did you short-circuit?”

“It´s a weird coincidence. I also thought of sports career. I stopped before I could even start. I tried my first year of high school, but there was something missing. I had someone to pull me up from my mood swings, but I had no one to push me forward. Like-like I missed some kind of rival to help me with finding the right direction. I don´t know, it´s silly.” Bokuto puts his chin on his chest, wishing to hide under the table. Maybe he is going to do exactly that.

Kuroo opens a book. “Do you know what´s so good about literature and languages? It helps you to understand not everything is a coincidence, not everything has to be a coincidence. And sometimes. Sometimes it really is that one piece missing. If only one thing was different, if only one piece of the puzzle made a different decision, maybe in a different universe, in the past or present, the path would be clear.”

“What?” Bokuto mumbles.

“Have you ever heard the story about a cursed sailor and a cursed noble man?”

“No,” Bokuto exhales.

Kuroo smiles. “One of them was cursed for trying to steal from the death itself. He was forced to sail the seas for one hundred years or longer if he was unable to find a place called The Promised Land. Every five years, he was allowed to have one week on shore. The noble man cursed himself, accidentally, because of the strong heartbreak he felt. The seas took him to a remote island to live alone. After eighty years living with their curses all by themselves, they met. Following their first meeting, they tried to meet everytime the sailor had a chance to step on the land. They never forgot each other, they fought for each other, they fell in love and in the end, they got freed, because the noble man-“ Kuroo halts. “No. I won´t spoil it for you, you just have to read it.”

“No! Don´t tease me like that!” Bokuto yelps.

“Oho, I can tease you in many ways, don´t you worry.”Kuroo puts the book away. “Was their meeting a coincidence? Was it a destiny or luck?”

Bokuto pouts, crossing his arms and turning away from him. “Tease,” he repeats.

“I am not-maybe I am. Actually,” Kuroo cackles, then eyes Bokuto up and down, contemplating something. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Dance? Where is that coming from?” Bokuto is intrigued.

“There is a dance competition, first three places get a certain amount of credits and a financial aid for university expenses. Hm?”

“Two men are allowed to enter?” Bokuto´s head is spinning. Is this his chance?

Kuroo touches his shoulder, turning him back to face him. “Anyone can enter. Single, group, duo, eighty people. And I don´t care.” Last sentence was emphasized.

“I am clumsy.”

“Me too.” Kuroo sighs. “Don´t tell me that a muscle mass like you is unable to move those pretty hips, hm? Do you want me to ask Sawamura?”

Bokuto gasps. “Hey, hey, hey, let me think about it.”

“I am.”

All the time Bokuto thinks, Kuroo stares at him like he´s a painting to be admired. Bokuto feels uneasy and flattered at the same time. “Em,” Bokuto starts, unsure, “do you have any more stories like that?”

Kuroo leans in. “Plenty.”

“Will tell you me some more?”

“Plenty.”

“Then okay.”

“Great.”

  “Okay, Kenma. Listen to this. Do you remember the guy I mentioned in the last letter? When I left the study session with Sawamura? Kenma, stop that train of thought. I don´t see you, but I know what you think right now. Where was I? Ah, yes. Do you remember that guy? Wet silver hair with black streaks, falling down all to his face, towel around the hips, golden eyes of sunshine and joy, just as piercing as yours. And that one looks you in the eye almost too intense. I didn´t recognize him at first, because he wore his hair styled upwards, then I saw his face. He is so weird, but I think I like him. There is something pulling me towards him. I feel like I may be able to let loose around him. Oh, by the way, he agreed on that dance competition. Since Sawamura refused and Tooru ditto, but that´s not the point. How awesome is that? I asked for fun and to tease, but he agreed! I will update you later, I have to go now. Please, don´t forget to eat! Love, Kuroo.”

 Next month was spent at dance rehearsals, which wasn´t easy thanks to their university schedules being so tough. It took them some getting used to, especially with studying at different faculties.

They agreed to meet at the nearby gym close to Sawamura´s place. “Okay, I have no basics, so what did you have in mind?” Bokuto stands in the middle, watching himself in the mirror, flexing his arms.

“Are you checking if they are still there?” Kuroo teases.

“No?” Bokuto shies a bit.

Kuroo closes the distance between them in five long strides to touch the biceps himself. “Nice!” he exclaims in an honest surprise. “I think you are good, man!”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! So cool, cool!” Bokuto´s face starts to shine like a sun.

“Stop with that smile or I´ll go blind!” Kuroo makes fun of him as he watches Bokuto getting pumped for their training. “Hey, Bokuto. Bokuto, look at this video, this is-“ Bokuto doesn´t stop. He runs around, jumps, does some push ups and talks about his workouts. “Maybe I shouldn´t have praised him,” Kuroo thinks, then shouts: “Hey, ace of working out! Are you scared of a little dance?”

Bokuto freezes on the spot. “Show me!”

The challenge was thrown and that challenge was accepted, Kuroo thinks, cackling to himself.

The long month of almost impossible, begins.

Both men fall down to the floor, chests heaving, feet hurting. “You know,” Bokuto says through shallow breaths. “I don´t think jive and quickstep were a good idea. Too tough.”

“Yep, I think you might be right,” Kuroo agrees, then slaps Bokuto´s arm. “Don´t breathe like that. Breathe at my counts. Inhale slowly, one, two, three, now the same, but exhale. One, two, three. Continue.” Kuroo sighs, giggling at Bokuto´s inability to follow the instructions. “Trust me, you´ll feel better. Shallow breaths are tiring, especially with tough physical activity.”

“Okay,” Bokuto mutters, the work prolonged and unhappy.

“Oh no,” Kuroo gets worried. “Bokuto? Would you like for me to change the dance? We can do something different.”

“No.” He turns away, still on the floor, knees curled in.

“Bokutooo,” Kuroo sings, tickling him. Bokuto chuckles with his mood unchanged. “Would tango be okay? You are a passionate man, it would suit you very much. I can play your damsel in distress.”

“No.”

“No what? Tango or the damsel?”

“Tango is fine.”

“So, do you want to be the damsel in distress?”

Bokuto grunts.

“Ah, you don’t want anyone to be in distress. We can be both strong and able to save ourselves. It can be the most intense performance of joy and passion anyone has ever seen. You can have a rose in your mouth. Hm?” Kuroo doesn´t push him, doesn´t continue to tickle him. He just caresses his arm and back, waiting for him to be ready again.

“That sounds nice,” Bokuto sits with eyes glued to Kuroo. “Go on,” he commands, putting Kuroo´s hand back where it was, prompting him to continue.

Kuroo smiles as he caresses him a bit longer. “Do you want to hear another story?”

“Yes,” Bokuto nods quickly, the spark coming back to him.

“There was an unknown time and unknown place with two friends having fun in the forest of emerald colors. They both loved to spend time together, too enthusiastic about everything. The forest was deemed a place where magic rested. You were allowed to go in but forbidden to disturb the peace of the place. The story is not about the forest, but those friends who didn´t care about magic or the trees or what is allowed or forbidden. They searched for fun, they looked for any excuse to spend time together.”

Bokuto listens carefully, his breath calm, arms close to Kuroo. “Did they love each other?” he whispers.

Kuroo smiles the softest smile anyone has ever seen. “Yes. They didn´t know and they didn´t tell, until the mistake happened. One wanted to confess to the other by picking one of the flowers, a red tulip. The forest did not like that.” Kuroo´s expression darkened a bit. “I admire this story,” he admits. “While it makes me very sad.” He doesn´t look at Bokuto as he continues. “The forest tries to punish them, when the other man takes it upon himself. He gets trapped into the tree, forever. The end.”

“The end?” Bokuto screeches, scaring other people around. “What about the other man? They didn´t even get to know they are in love? What kind of story is that?”

Kuroo pats his shoulder. “They knew. Of course, they knew, words weren´t needed. Just because one turned into a tree doesn’t mean they stopped seeing each other.”

“What?”

“Come on, let´s practice some more. So, about that rose?”

 Before they finished their first year of university, Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutaro placed first in the dance competition. All of it thanks to freedom they allowed themselves to have and the passion that oozed out of their performance. Purple and teal overalls also helped, mixing together softness and strength, blurring gender differences of any kind. They gave it everything and kept nothing, the rose unused in the end.

As they pack their things, Kuroo examines Bokuto mannerism, his moves, the stare towards another competitor they met named Ushijima. Something inside of Kuroo stirs, the heaviness falling inside of his gut. “We should have sealed it with a kiss,” Kuroo says as a matter of fact.

“Eh?” Bokuto finally stops ogling the beefy man of a god’s stature.

“You know, the dance.”

“I don´t think they would appreciate it here,” Bokuto says with a shrug.

Kuroo is taken aback. First, why did he ask this? Second, why was Bokuto opened to the possibility? When it comes, to Kuroo, it´s not surprising. Anyone who knows him is well informed about his sexuality. He cares only about who you are as a person, the rest is irrelevant. But Bokuto? Well, after his undressing of Ushijima with his gaze, he can´t so shocked. Kuroo usually doesn´t find people attractive unless he knows them better, but he could understand other points of view. Kuroo sighs as he looks at his own build, lean, resembling more a dancer than anyone as buff as Bokuto.

“Kurooooooo, don´t ignore me!” Bokuto wales.

“What? Ah, sorry, I am tired.”

“What about that kiss?”

“Kiss?” Kuroo´s demeanor changes into his cocky other self. “Well, are you that brave for something like that? Even now?”

Bokuto makes a weird sound and then it happens. One mouth collided with the other, tips of their tongues involved. Bokuto pulls back, his lips smirking at surprised Kuroo. “You aren´t the only one who can tease, you know?” He leaves Kuroo in his dust.

“What just happened?” Kuroo asks silently.

“He kissed you,” Ushijima informs him seriously.

“I didn´t-“ Kuroo doesn´t finish, but his head is ready to explode. “Was it just for fun?”

  “Akaashi, I screwed up! I kissed him, to be a tease exactly like him. I thought it might be nice, you know, the heat of the moment, but-I don´t know, I am scared, what is this? What should I do now? Help! I don´t know what I feel, I don´t know how he feels. I like his stories, I like spending time with him, but you know. Something shifted in me. I don´t think it´s about fun anymore. Not entirely. Akaashi, help! And we have met up again, not on purpose, but an accident. Is this fate? Yes? No? WHAT IS THIS? Help. Anyone, Konoha? Yukie? Kaori? Somebodyyy. Help.”

  It´s the beginning of their second year and Bokuto is forced to attend the museum of architecture and design for one of his courses. “Everyone bailed on me and I am supposed to stay focused all by myself? Not everything can be a dance, oh.” He stops at the entrance, deciding if he is leaving, when their eyes meet.

“What brings you here, Bokuto?” Kuroo asks, single ticket in his hand.

“Um, school.”

“Same.”

“Also involuntarily?”  

Kuroo frowns. “Nope, I like to trace stories. You?”

“Eh.”

Kuroo throws his hand over Bokuto´s shoulder, the kiss unmentioned but not forgotten. “You really can´t find your passion in this, can you?” Bokuto keeps quiet. “You know, you might need the right moment, that right incentive to get you hooked on your studies.”

“What if I don´t?”

“Then change it. Don´t force yourself into something you don´t want to do.”

“How did you find your moment?” Bokuto gets curious as they walk around the museum.

“I always knew. Not everyone is that lucky.”

Bokuto shrugs. “You really think I can find it?”

“Why did you choose this type of studies?”

“The design is-you take parts and make them whole. Those parts can work on its own, but not all of them can and they are better, stronger together. They complement each other.”

“Like a team,” Kuroo says dreamily.

“Like a team.”

“Then go on from there. Look for those parts everywhere you go, in every subject you have, then find what makes them great as a whole. The rest will come to you, hopefully.”

Bokuto stares at him in amazement. “You like storytelling, even without stories to tell, huh?”

“Are you complaining?” Kuroo smirks.

In another time with another person, Bokuto would go into a slump. He doesn´t. He suddenly feels safe and cared for around Kuroo, which is always a tough task to accomplish, usually done by Akaashi Keiji. Until today. Until the day they first saw each other. “Never,” Bokuto answers.

“Do you want to hear another story while we walk around?” Kuroo offers. “I can tell you about a man who lost his best friend and maybe even a love of his life in an accident. The toughest burden was seeing him even in his death. He spoke to him, he played with him, still loved him. And when he was told the truth, when he remembered the way he died, that he was present that day, he broke down more and more, until nothing of him was left. Then he forgot once more, unable to move on, unable to accept his lover´s demise. After everything, he went through, after being hospitalized, he kept seeing him, kept talking to him, didn´t understand the reasons for being held there. Even other people started doubting what he was truly seeing. Was his friend just a nightmare, daydream, imagination, or reality?”

Kuroo ends the story there, his stride slowing down. “Or do you want to hear the story of a man and his muse?”

 Bokuto follows Kuroo´s profile, eyes focusing on the lips, eyes watering. “Does it also end in a heartbreak? They all have that theme and I don´t know if I like it.”

“Maybe all these stories are stories of the same couple, trying to find a way to each other. In one lifetime at least. Maybe all these stories are connected.”

Bokuto feels the tear running down his face. “How?”

“To answer your first question, I don´t know. The muse is invisible, but the scientist can feel it´s there. He falls in love with it, just as the muse falls in love with him.” Kuroo turns to him, baring his teeth. “Come on, it´s just stories. Let´s have some fun, shall we?” Before he takes him away, Bokuto wipes his tears. “Koutaro?”

“Yeah?”

Kuroo cups one of his cheeks, the other hand stays on his left shoulder, watching him tentatively. “Don´t you think there is something beautiful about that image? Two souls searching for each other through galaxies and lifetimes, death and life?”

“No. Yes.” Bokuto´s fingers curl around Kuroo´s jacket. “I want to have that fun now, please.” They don´t let go for a while, Bokuto wishing for something more, this time with incentive on the other side.

Kuroo leans in, kissing his forehead.

  “Kuroo?” Their museum tour comes to an end, their paths untangling as they both have to take a different bus to their flats. “Uhm, I lost one of my bets couple of weeks ago. I am forced to visit a haunted house next month and I thought, you know, if you could keep me company?”

“Haunted house?” Kuroo seems amused.

“Unless you are scared?” Bokuto tries one of Kuroo´s tactics.

“Please,” Kuroo waves his hand. “I´ve seen stuff. Okay, text me an address and time.”

“Seriously?”

“No, I am planning to stand you up.” Kuroo doesn´t flinch as he tells the lie.

Bokuto´s mouth hangs open. “But-“

“Yes, seriously.” Kuroo can´t stop the incoming laugh.

“Good,” Bokuto mirrors Kuroo´s reaction. “We are on!”

At home, Bokuto goes through the memory snapshots, realizing he might have had the moment of passion for his studies right there at the museum.

The designs they saw, the stories he heard, that crazy tango dance they performed. Small parts, creating something bigger.

Bokuto´s mood rises up as he armors himself for their next adventure.

The haunted house.

  “Kenma, I think this is it. I am falling for him. I have no idea if he is falling for me, but some of the moves he lets me make, I don´t know. I don´t know. I would love to be suave with him, or just go for it and risk it. You know, I would probably expose one of the best friendships I ever got. It might not look like it, but he keeps me sane from all this school responsibilities. He is interesting, even at times when I simply don´t get him. He wakes up the silly in me, unlike the others. I thought I lost it forever, but he found it for me. I will have to meet that friend of his, as I heard, he is an expert on Bokuto´s antics. Kenma, Kenma, Kenma. We are going to a haunted house tomorrow, I will try to see if there is a chance. Kenma, Kenma. Help. Even Yaku´s opinion would be now welcomed…”

  “Stop, Bokuto, it´s nothing, see? A moth. A freaking moth!” Kuroo holds Bokuto´s hand, calming him down as he jumps for a hundredth time at any sound they hear. Kuroo examines the old house with one stairway leading upstairs, which both men tactically ignore as they document their journey with the phone, for Bokuto´s friends.

“How come you aren´t scared?”

Kuroo closes his eyes and counts to five. He is scared, unsure of what exactly. The house and its atmosphere, or Bokuto´s reactions? “It´s your mind playing with you. It´s told this house is haunted, but it-“ The creaking comes, adult men shriek unison and run outside as fast as they can.

“You said?” Bokuto holds his knees, close to crumbling.

Kuroo laughs like a crazy maniac. “We are one impossible couple, aren´t we?”

Bokuto joins him. “We are the best couple. Let´s sit over there.” He points to the basketball court and the swing big enough for three people at least. The place is empty, the owner a friend of their friend. “Why is that there?”

They notice the small shack right over the hill leading down to the small spring and a bridge. “I have no idea. You can do nothing in here.” They try to fit in, then come back to the swing.

“Is it or is it not haunted then? I would like to know, honestly.”

Kuroo shrugs. “I have no idea. When you go somewhere with a certain notion tattooed in your head, it´s hard to shake it off. If it´s entertaining-“

“Entertaining?” Bokuto slaps his thigh playfully. “Fun. My heart, I gained ten years to my lifespan.”

“What? Do you want to hear a story?” Kuroo tries, wondering if it still works.

Bokuto stops being so frantic and nods. “If you still have any.”

“Plenty.” They smile. “It revolves around friends and lovers again. Sometime in the past, they met as children and grew up to become an inseparable item. Before they could act upon their feelings, one of them got sick, hereditary condition. The other pleaded for him to be saved for so long, that someone listened to his pleas. Either angel, or the devil, you can choose, the story doesn´t specify this. The man is willing to give it everything and so he does. His lover lives, but with one obstacle. One changes into an owl through the night, the other changes into a cat through the day. They catch glimpses of each other at the moment of transformation, only for a short second. When it´s too much, the owl pleads once more and the angel, devil arrives, granting his wish to turn everything back as it was before. The man changing into an owl becomes sick again, the man changing into a cat becomes his caretaker. They live as fully as they can, while they can.”

“How much time they had together?” Bokuto whispers.

Kuroo doesn´t know. “Ten days or ten years or even hundred.”

“Are those stories of yours real or made up?” Bokuto´s question comes as a shock to the both. “You speak of it so realistically.”

Kuroo never thought of it this way. “I don´t know. They have to be inspired by something, right?”

The night falls, their gazes follow the moon and stars.

“Why these stories?”

Kuroo feels Bokuto´s fingers creeping closer to him. “They pull me in. I can understand them in a way I can´t express. They are mesmerizing to me.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo turns to him, surprised by those words. “I felt the same way from the moment I heard the first story. It´s like-“

Ours, Kuroo thinks without wording the thought out loud.

“It makes me feel sad, but full at the same time. It´s weird, I know.” Bokuto moves to open the space between them. Kuroo´s heart beats faster, he can feel his skin getting hot with disappointment.

“Did I do something wrong?” Why are you so far from me? I want you closer. So close I could breathe you in, so close I could fuse with you.

Bokuto lowers his gaze, not fully on Kuroo. “You did nothing wrong. But-I think I might be suffocating being by your side.” He says it so quietly it´s almost inaudible.

But Kuroo hears them and Kuroo understands them. “May I?”

Bokuto doesn´t ask for elaboration, affirms the intention.

It´s Kuroo´s turn to kiss him. Before their lips collide, Bokuto jumps and Kuroo gulps loudly.

“I think I saw something,” Bokuto admits. “It had to be the story you told me, sorry, sorry.”

Kuroo stared at him, blood running cold. “I saw something too. I kept quiet, because I thought my mind is playing tricks on me.”

Their stares follow the basketball hoop and the path that the “something” went to.

“Shit!” Kuroo yells as he sees the glimpse of a white light with heights of a person, walking right behind the little shack and towards the cottages not too far away from their backs.

“You saw it too? I thought it´s me who imagines things this time!”

Kuroo squeezes his hand. “Calm down, it´s nothing. Tell me what you saw, maybe it was a play of light or I don´t know. Wait, my phone.” He puts the flashlight on. There is nothing, only the road and stream running. “It might have been that road sign, right?”

“How? There is no light that could be reflected there and it´s too low.” Bokuto is shaking, sign for Kuroo to keep him closer.

“Before we panic, describe it to me.”

“Bright and white. As tall as Akaashi, so somewhere around the bottom of the roof of that shack. It went from right to left, I would say it was a woman, a scarf or hoodie on her head?”

There is no way it can be so detailed for both of them. Kuroo feels too cold. “Um, I am sorry, but I saw the same thing. Exactly.”

They look to each other horrified, breathing heavily, trying to calm themselves.

“You know what?” Kuroo breaks the silence first. “I think we should stand up and get back to the place where the owner lives. It´s just behind the haunted house itself, so it won´t be a problem, right?”

“Right.”

They stand up, holding each other tightly. “Let´s go slowly, there´s no need for any more-“

And so they run as fast as never before.

  “What?” they shriek when the owner named Ukai nods vehemently, taking out another cigarette.

“Yep, I saw it too. As I walked my dog, there was a light between those bushes, it went your way. I am not very surprised, you are not the first ones to report this.” Ukai lit up his cigarette, completely collected.

Kuroo and Bokuto bow in unison, then get as far as they can from that terrifying place. They don´t stop until they reach the city. “It´s late,” Bokuto complains. “I need to go home, I have some other-“

Kuroo doesn´t wait anymore. He leans in for the stolen kiss from before. Bokuto doesn´t budge. He surprises him with a gentle kisses and strokes on the back, arms, right in between the hair. “Thank you,” Kuroo breathes out when they stop.

“No, thank you,” Bokuto admits through his teeth.

“Are you okay? I know I-“

“Never better.” Bokuto smiles at him. “I wasn´t sure so I didn´t make another move.”

I wasn´t sure either, Kuroo thinks, not needing to say it to him. They know now and that´s enough.

“If you need a place to stay, I live close by. My roommate won´t mind.” Kuroo stops himself. “I didn´t mean-“

“I know. But I wouldn´t say no either way. Lead the way, please, I am tired.” Bokuto commands, leaving Kuroo speechless for the first time. He complies.

They spend the night talking, then spend the day kissing. For a while, they don´t care about any responsibilities they have. It´s a dance they share again, although it´s a dance of hearts and souls, making it a tango, jive, or even a flamingo.

It´s everything and a pinch more.

With the second night incoming, their kisses change into hugs and touches, the naked skin on skin, goose bumps all over their bodies, the moans and passion hurdling out of their throats.

And when it all ends, Bokuto lays in Kuroo´s bed covered in his sheets almost from head to toe like a burrito, while Kuroo cleans him softly with care, making him the most desired and most cherished person in the world.

Bokuto repays him with a bear hug. Kuroo curls himself in, falling asleep feeling safe and comforted.

  “It´s a dance”, Bokuto whispers.

“It´s a dance,” Kuroo agrees as they meet at the old castle to learn about other stories.

They dance between the cobwebs, unbothered by stares of other people. They dance between the flowers as they visit the famous botanic garden, they dance in the rain when Bokuto sees the weather and goes outside without a raincoat or any other proper clothes. They dance anywhere they can, the lack of music unable to stop them.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo whispers after waking up in the middle of a night, thirsty. He watches him from the doorway, buried in blankets, looking like a mermaid. The silence fills up the room, but the buzzing thoughts cut through the darkness like a bolt, blinding Kuroo´s eyes and deafening Bokuto´s ears.

“I got the scholarship for studies abroad. I got it last month, I couldn´t tell you. I-“ I am not ready for a long distance relationship. “I can´t do that. I have too much to give. I would die otherwise, but I don´t want to miss this opportunity. I know your answer. I know you´d let me go. I, myself, don´t know. Do you remember how I talked about that moment that hooks you to something? Well, I got that moment with you. What do I do now?” He bumps his head into the wall, wishing for it to hurt so much more than his heart.

“I don´t want for this to become part of stories I like to tell,” he adds as he sits down close to his face, watching him, adoring him. “Bokuto. I love you so much. Should we wait and see if it´s meant to be? Should we try? Should we let it go?”

The morning sun shines on Kuroo´s messy head right beside Bokuto. He fell asleep in the sitting position from the night before, Kuroo´s neck hurting as hell. “Ouch.”

“That´s what you get when you don´t speak to me when I am awake,” Bokuto informs him like it´s nothing.

It takes too long for Kuroo to understand. “You heard me.”

“No, not really,” Bokuto admits and prepares the hot water, black coffee for Kuroo, hot chocolate for him. “I know about that scholarship. I saw the papers. Also, you mentioned it when we first talked.”

“You remember?”

“Of course.” Bokuto smiles. “I remember a lot, you´d be surprised.”

“Yes, I would.” Kuroo waits for any reaction, scared to death.

Bokuto sits down. “I only heard your last words in the bed, so I figured what it must mean. I am not that silly. And-we are in college. I didn´t expect anything big out of this, don´t worry.” He waves his hand. “You said it yourself. This is big opportunity you have. My friend Akaashi did the same and he is so happy. It´s not like we are dying, you know? I say, go for it. If we still want it later, we will find each other. If not, then why the regret?” Bokuto touches his face, kisses his nose, forehead, those cheeks, that soft mouth of his.

“Why are you the calm one?”

  “He leaves me, Akaashi. He leaves me, but I choose to believe if it´s meant to be, we will meet again. I need to be strong for him. And I know it´s meant to be. Right?”

Bokuto holds back the tears. Because this time, you can´t be. And if I don´t try, I will crumble and never get up. “I heard your stories. I was ready. I am ready.” I am not.

“Do you want to hear the last one?” Kuroo asks before his train leaves.

“Please.”

“This is a pleasant one. There are two heist groups. One of the biggest one in the area, maybe even the country. They once meet at the same place, going for the same heist, their leaders getting stuck together. The teams have to cooperate, both so different it´s almost impossible, but they manage. They come out safe, but after that meeting, something changes. The leaders fall in love, slowly but surely. Well, maybe it´s not that slow. They get married, but they-“ Kuroo doesn’t finish the story, the train arrives.

“See you later,” Bokuto hugs him, unsure if he is able to let him go.

“See you.” Kuroo gets in, their farewell short, unbearable.

“I love you,” Bokuto yells as the doors close and the train moves.

Kuroo smirks, Bokuto winks.

  “I left him, Kenma. I left it all there with him, I hope I might collected it one day, if he lets me. If I´ll still want to. It hurts, Kenma.”

  “Akaashi, you won´t believe what just happened.”

 “Kenma, it´s been two years. This is a miracle.”

“We won´t be the part of those stories.”

“Right?”

  Bokuto attends the first conference of architecture and design managed by the museum he visited with Kuroo once. It was good for his job, good for his resume. The event was divided into three other parts, loosely connected, one of them focused on the historical aspects of the architecture and design. It reminded him of-

Shock spreads across Bokuto´s face. He wasn´t the only one thinking like this.

It takes them three and a half second to notice each other across the room. Those silver hair with black streaks and golden eyes of bird of a prey. That messy dark hair with hazel eyes and sly moves, waiting. For a couple of moments, everything else disappears.

Kuroo cackles and smirks, holding his honest reaction in for the sake of seriousness of this occasion.

Bokuto winks, pointing towards the door. “Oy, let me have a drink,” he decides before heading out.

There is nothing cinematic in their meeting. It´s intimate, the silence shared between the two of them only. They hug tightly, reassuring themselves it´s real.

It is.

“Do you have another story?” Bokuto says as he cleans his teary face into Kuroo´s suit who doesn´t mind in a slightest.

“Plenty,” Kuroo grins. They walk away, Kuroo talking. “There was this cursed man caught by thorns, lost in the middle of nowhere. There was another man, bringing with him feeling of spring and sprouting anywhere he went. He knew nothing of his past, he had no memories with one exception. He was always looking for something or someone. No one knew him, no one was able to help him until the moment he stumbled upon the man in the thorns. He watched him knowingly. This is it. His intuition screamed at him - this is what you are looking for. He leans into him, bringing the feeling of beginning to him. The man picks up red tulips to show him how much he cares. The other man, the one in thorns, blooms the peony in the palm of his hand, his body been freed from the curse and the pain of thorns in his skin.”

Bokuto listens so carefully, he forgets to breathe. Kuroo notices, that´s when he nudges him lovingly with fingers around his hips.

“They both get free. Their memories don´t come back, but their feelings do. The thorn man was leaving peonies wherever he stepped, the savior could be traced by tulips. When they hugged, both flowers fell to the ground mixed together, becoming one. Peony the sign of a happy marriage, the tulip sign of a perfect love. No one knew how long they lived before, no one knew how long they lived after. They knew one thing - how much they love each other. They never stopped, with memories or without them. They found each other when they got lost and it was all that mattered to them.”

“Are we part of those stories of yours?” Bokuto asks the burning question.

They stop in their tracks, amazed by the cathedral rising in front of them. Kuroo takes his hand. “Only time will tell.”

Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutaro step in smiling, laughing, dancing like no one´s watching.

The rest is their future, the rest is a history.

No matter the path, no matter the end.

They will find each other, their universe is forever shared.

 Notes: 

The stories Kuroo tells are mine (all on AO3, most of them used in Bokuroo Week). This is the connection I mentioned in the prompt for a first day :) It will be shown in a better light on day 6, but you don´t have to read it, of course. 

The story at the haunted house is from my own experience :) 

Thank you for your time!

[kanene-yaaay]

A night just as any other

 Sugar! /0/

Spice! \0\

And everything nice! \0/  

To create the perfect fluff

But Kanene accidentally (unless...)

Added an extra ingredients to the concoction--

Angst!!

*Explosion*

*Evil crackling*

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Thank you all very much for all the support, reblogs, heart and kinds words that you give to me. I can’t call this a christmas gift, but I really hope that you like it and this small oneshot is able to light up your day! ‘w’)s2

* This characters don’t belongs to me! Good Omens belongs to the incredible Neil Gaiman and  Terry Pratchett; Aaaand the characters of this fic (and AU) themselves belongs to @10yrsyart

* Read here to know the AU Ducks and Dolphins and click here to see everything cannon about the D+D. It’s  f a n t a s t i c! Reaaad!  ^w^)s2

* I didn’t really asked a permission by myself, but this post kind of give permission to write about the AU? (I really hope so xDDD), so, if you also want to write about them please don’t be ashamed ! (And give credits, pleaaaase! :D)

* Something around 1.200 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* This is not cannon. This idea just came because everytime I thought in a fluff, just appear plots of Az cheering up Crow, soooo I tried to challenge me a little and make the opposite. I hope I could demonstrate even a little bit of their personality (and don’t have misunderstanding them).

* Fanfic em português brasileiro (Portuguese Version) Thankys for reading, my lollipops! I hope you enjoy this, festive or not, day! Hug a demon, hug an angel and don’t forget to drink water!! Byeioo!~

                                      [~*~]

Aziraphale is calm, stoic, precise, bold, moralistic, firm, direct and ruthless if necessary. He is also sincere, generous, comprehensive, limpid and kind. He is as a pillar. A base. Something concrete, someone who you can lean on for support, trust, belief.

 He knows very well how separate his work from his personal life. His feelings from his mind. He is rational, leaded primary by his brain and not-

 And not ngk-

 (Come on. Control your breath. Control yourself. One… two…three…)

 In any way, under absolutely no circumstances by his feeli-

 (Focus. Focus on something, something, some- a book! Take one of the books. Right. Very well. Focus!)

 …

 Damn.

 His breath came out a little weaker, shaking. He tightened his grip in the fabric of his pants, closing his blue eyes and trying to focus on his own heartbeat, which seemed to reverberate in his dry throat,  attempting to correct his breathing with its.

Inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled. Rested his head against the couch, sinking a little deeper into it. Some part of himself was thankful that it was already night, which meant the bookstore were closed and there was no danger of an incident.

 There was no danger.

 He settled back a little more on the furniture, held the book again, with a little firmer grip than needed as he readjusted it to a more comfortable position and so that there was no danger in his thick, warm tears researching its pages, eventually falling and blurring its words of the lovely sentences.

 At least it was night, a night just like any other night with a weather of every other nights, where there would be no incident.

 “Angel…?”

 … Damn.

 Crow approached closer from the upright and perfect pose, seeking his eyes and staring deeply into, the gold glittering in the night pitch, when found them. Az didn’t tried to hide these moments, at least not anymore, but neither did he show its when they became present. His voice came out a little faltering, yet in the calm and characteristic tune he always had.

 “Crow, dear, I thought you were already sleeping.”

 “I just woke up. I came for a cup of tea.”

 Both knew this was a lie, still none of them really mentioned such information when the one with dark hair as the ebony of the night, a night just as any other one, removed the book of his carefully manicured hands and held them for a moment, intertwining their fingers as he got closer enough to finally entwining him in a hug. Separated the hold for a brief second, only to position the angel’s head on his shoulder, and then tightly hug him. As if he tried to show that, nothing, on Earth, Hell or Heaven, would be able to hit him without going over him, first.

 It might seemed as any other previous hug, if it wasn’t for the fabric of his pajamas getting gradually wetter and the slight shivers and sniffles that let out the mouth of the one with blonde, almost white, hair. His cry was silently, and for a light of moment, Crow remembered his own cry, which could be described as any other, just a bit louder and with rumpled clothes.

 Shook lightly his head, focusing in the present, in the possibilities, the sentences and words that would say after the storm. His mind felt lethargic and yet running in full speed almost at the same time. Combing Az’s hair and gave small, but big in meaning, pecks in his neck without even noticing.

 The time lost meaning in this piece of time.

 A hand tapped softly his back and the head slightly lifted. It was the signal to break the touch, and it was promptly obeyed.

 “Do you want to talk about this?” His voice was a special whisper, packed, designated and delivered to just one being in the entire universe.

 “There is nothing to be said.” Even with everything, his voice still lacking major flaws or slips, it was of a calm, sad nature. “It is just…” And the owner of hundreds of books, reader for thousands years and maestro of words ended up losing himself in them.

 ‘It’s just…’  Crow wondered if even the humans, at some point of their existence, could understand all the feelings and sensations between the lines that this phrase could possess.

 Probably.

 Everyone does, in some way or another, doesn’t it?

 The black-haired never paid much attention to time, especially after such thing already fulfilled its basic function of lead him as far as possible from that particular century. However, this day, he almost could see the sand of hourglass pouring grain-by-grain as he let the angel running his fingers through his hair, pressing his back on the blonde’s sweater and stroking the back of the other’s hand with his thumb. His warmth and presence were the necessary reminders that Az needed to focus on the here, in the Bookstore rocked by this ordinary night, and now, with the best company he could ever wish to be.

 A piece more of time was spent. Maybe two, three, and perhaps a little more.

 …

 “We should go out.”

 “What are you rambling about, Crow love? We always go out.”

 “No. I mean… for something different! Not just a lunch.”

 “A day to wander, you mean?”

 “Maybe.” Shrugged, pondering, the tongue absently wriggling in the ar. Az tightened a bit more the touch, feeling lighter as allow his mind travel and dance between some possibilities for the future meaning of this conversation. “We should make a picnic!”

 “A picnic?’

 “Yes! In any place, nearby or far away! We could take the food or milacre there. I can give you a ride.”

 His head turned, his heart floating and expanding when he saw that the trail of tears had faded from his husband’s face, and now the red was also beginning to gradually leave his skin.

 Az pondered for a few minutes, eyes glomming.

 “I don’t think I’ve ever married at a picnic before.” Smiled, and part of his soul melted with the beauty in the other’s happy expression, along with the smile that also was painted in the demon’s face, he was absolutely sure.

 “Let me tempt you, then.” Crow hissed, carrying on their internal joke, since they, after their last wedding-lunch, decided that from now on there would be no more dates, only weddings.

 Az raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful disbelief look. Their foreheads met. The angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a light, which came neither from the stars, cars, poles and nor the living room lamp, little by little filling his being.

 “I love you, Aziraphale.” Their eyes met.

 “I love you, my husband.”

 Perhaps they had spent some time like this, in silence, enjoying themselves. Perhaps they had slowly moved away right after the talk, holding hands, a warm feeling in their chest. Who really knows? It is a moment only for them, so let it be.

“The preparations should be started, then!” The one with blue limpid eyes, now up, excitedly leaded to the kitchen. “Milacre a massive amount of food certainly would alert your side just as mine, so, I believe the best option we got is cook by our own.”

 Crow scowled, which evolved to as annoyed expression as received the lightly incisive and inquisitive look from the other, puffing up his cheeks and deviating the glare as he dispirited followed his steps into the other room.

 “Fffffffine.” Gave up of the dream to sleep that night. However, deep inside, he knew worth it just to watch the blonde-haired angel calmly, excited walking his eyes and fingers through the Recipe Books were under his care. Urg. The sacrifices that must be made. “But I’m not using a patterned apron!”

 And the cars drove through the streets, the stars hardly glowed in the sky and the worlds kept not an even bit silent during that sunless hours, just as any other night of any other day. Nevertheless, on that store, more specifically a Bookstore, at that moment and for those two, maybe this wasn’t a common night anymore, and would definitely lead to a day not even a little ordinary, either.

 A recipe book was open, some bright smiles (maybe trying to help the stars?) too.

 “Sure, my dear. I would never…” replied Az, trying to decide which color would most highlight Crow’s duck patterned pajamas.

[inara-sensei]

Winter Storms, Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I bow again to the imperial family and hurry out the smaller side door a servant clad in black gestures for me to go through. Natalia stands on the other side of the corridor. Her cheeks are pink like she ran here. She smooths her cloak, the blue fabric like water against the air. The embroidery on it, I note, is a lighter blue, and the intricate detailing shimmers in the candlelight.  

“How was your summoning?” I shrug. It was...confusing. And the tsarevitch wouldn’t stop staring at me. I wonder what it would be like to confide in someone about this. “Come on, give me more than that.”

“If you haven’t noticed, we barely know each other.”

“That’s true. I’m Natalia, a water sorcerer. We’ll be taking some classes together, and maybe you’ll be my new training partner. And I know your cat. She’s very sweet.” I shrug.

“I can’t control my powers,” I warn. “Only suppress them until I have to let them out.” One year, when they had been bottling up, I’d accidentally frozen the lake beside Mistress Katya’s summer home. I ran inside and hid upstairs for an hour, pretending I had a headache.

“How you managed so long, I’ll never understand.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t just bottle up magic. Eventually it has to come out.”

“I know.”

“It can make you sick.”

I stop walking. Sick. I’d always been a sickly person, and just a little too thin. Mistress Katya blamed the orphanage’s lack of food and spent many nights instructing dinners for elaborate meals, including the time she convinced the cook to make chocolate cake every night for a month after I had arrived. Other than a sweet tooth, things hadn’t changed much in terms of my health except that any illness was met with a fleet of servants doting on me, as per my mistress’s orders.

“Oh.”

“It really isn’t so bad here.”

“So you say.”

“It’ll be an adjustment. But we have plenty of fun. The ball is in a few months. I’m sure your mistress will be there.” I nod. Mistress Katya would be in attendance and fabulously dressed. She never missed a chance to dazzle at a ball. When I was small, I loved watching the buzz of preparations. Mistress Katya would let me come and talk to her while her maids did her hair and makeup, and she would even let me help her pick her jewelry to match her latest gown. She would always bring a small plate of sweets home for me and tell me stories of the costumes and the performance of the court sorcerers. Now I would be performing.

“This is the Sorcerer’s Garden,” Natalia explains. She gestures to the exotic plants, still green and untouched by the snow. The glass and gold dome is etched with elaborate designs, with an eight pointed star above. Golden swirls glitter above us, the stars shining in on the frosted glass. Warmth fills the room. “It’s similar to the Winter Palace’s gardens. We can come here whenever we’d like. One of the past tsars had exotic plants brought here for us to enjoy and practice with. Some of us create medicines or experiment with them. And it’s always warm, which is nice if you want to escape the winter for an hour or two. And it’s close to the banya, if you prefer walking after classes and training to hot baths.” I pull off one of my gloves and reach out my hand in the air. My palm is already sweating. Dew drops roll off of fat green leaves. Summer has exploded in a world of winter.

“Are there any rules here?” I ask. “Other than obey.”

“Plenty. But the perks are well worth the rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

“No contact with the outside world, no leaving the palace or academy grounds, no using magic for any selfish purposes, just to name a few.”

“That isn’t so bad.” There must be a catch.

“It really isn’t. In exchange, we become members of the court, like your mistress. And we serve the tsar in various places, and one becomes the Imperial Sorcerer.”

“Imperial Sorcerer. Irina was one, right?” Natalia pauses. She stares at a pale pink flower, stroking its petals with reverence.

“You know of Irina.”

“The tsar mentioned her. Her throne was empty.”

“Irina passed a few years ago. Didn’t you attend the service? She was buried like a member of the imperial family!” I shake my head. I’d had a headache, and Mistress Katya had insisted I stay home. But a few days before, I’d collapsed in the library. The doctor that Mistress Katya rang for said nothing was wrong, and I was most likely overworked. The feeling though, of something tearing at my soul, something deep within me I’ve never felt...I shudder. I can’t forget that. I could never forget that.

“My mistress insisted I stay home. I’d collapsed a few days before and when I woke up, I’d had a terrible migraine for a few days after.” Natalia spins on her heels to face me. She strides forward and plants her hands firmly on my shoulders.

“Don’t tell anyone that.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell anyone that you collapsed after she died. Don’t ever mention it! Not everyone will be so understanding. I won’t tell anyone, but you can’t.”

“I don’t-”

“You might be one of them, and competition is already heating up.”

“I don’t understand!”

“Good! Come on, it’s getting late. You must want dinner.”

She storms toward the other side of the pathways and I follow.

***

“This is the entrance to the academy and the headquarters to the Sorcerer’s Guild.”  

The towering white and gold structure seems to be made of snow. Onion domes are painted red, gold, blue, green, gold, and silver. They spin above us, elegant and bright against the white building with its gilded doors. Two guards are posted at the door, but they do not respond to us moving toward the doors. A small dish sits by the doorknob, golden outside but stained black inside. A pin prick stands above it. Natalia sticks her thumb on it and pulls away. Blood pools on her finger. She lets it drop into the dish. Light swirls through the doors. The ornate curls and garden designs seem to shine brighter. Two guards grasp the doors and pull it open.

“It keeps us safe. Only sorcerers can enter this way,” Natalia explains. “It keeps us safe, and it makes sure we can’t sneak out.” Or it keeps us in for their use. I bite my lip. Nothing about tonight has felt right.

“I see.” But still, the grandeur of the great hall sprawled before me was a sight to behold. My eyes tried to absorb everything. The intricately carved wooden table with a jeweled vase against a table holding white lilies, the glittering floors, the paintings on the ceiling, the portrait of the imperial family and Irina hanging above the table. It sticks out in its golden frame, the only decoration to adorn the halls. I walk to it. She is beautiful, long dark curls tumbling down her shoulders. She’s wearing a white silk gown embroidered with gold and silver swirls and the bell sleeves of the Russian court. A wide red sash lays over her right shoulder, and a golden pin sits at the shoulder bearing the double eagle of Russia. Her jewelry is expensive, all diamonds and rubies set in gold and a matching tiara to show her status. But it is her eyes that captivate me most. I have never met the Grand Imperial Sorcerer Irina and my entire family is dead, but she and I have the same eyes. I can’t tear away from her painted stare, and my fingers twitch to touch it.

“This is why my mistress never had me at court,” I whisper.

“Probably,” Natalia replies. “If anyone had seen you, they would have taken you away.” All those times I begged Mistress Katya to take me with her to balls and ceremonies, weddings and state funerals and she refused my requests. Everytime she did, I was deeply upset. When I was younger, I would hide upstairs in my room and sulk. When I got older, I tried to hide my disappointment. Eventually, I stopped asking. She tried to soften the blow with books and treats, but it never quite made up for the fact that it felt like everyone my age was doing something so normal and I couldn’t. Natalia places a hand on my shoulder. “She really loves you.”

“I know.”

“Come on, I’ll show you the best way to get from your room to the dining hall. And I’ll show you the library. You like books, right?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because...” She shrugs. “Because you’re my friend. Or, we could be friends, if you wanted. Everyone needs friends. I know how scary the academy can be when you’re alone. When you’re different. Not everyone has normal magic, some of us...stick out more.”

Friends.

I’d never really had friends. People always thought I was odd before I was adopted, and the other kids avoided me. After my adoption, being the ward made some not like me and made others avoid me. It suited me fine. I liked being alone with my hobbies, and I liked my private tutors. All the servants at home had always been there for me. And I always had Mistress Katya. But true friends were out of my grasp. I had never given the idea much time to play in my mind. It could be nice. I extend a hand.

“Ok. Friends.”

“Wonderful!”

***

“And this is the grand hall!” A hall of small circular tables draped with white table cloths and plush velvet chairs cover the hall. Imported carpet covers the floor with tiny rosebuds. Tall white walls rise up, with inlaid opals at the beginning of an ornate painting. A canopy of trees, small birds, There’s ample walking space between the tables. I pause. The halls have all been empty except for the occasional shuffling servant with something carried by.

“How many students are there?”

“A hundred in total, but there are even more of us. There are rooms for each graduate once they finish at the academy in the palace, and we all retain rooms here. It’s kind of a sanctuary.” I shrug. It’s certainly opulent. We had never wanted for anything in Mistress Katya’s house, but this was extreme. The opulence fills the halls like we are part of the Winter Palace itself.

“It’s beautiful.” Mistress Katya would call it tadry and an overt trashy display of wealth. Being here, standing in this hall, made me feel like the little boy who had just been welcomed to Mistress Katya’s home years ago. Small, and insignificant, like an orphan who doesn’t belong. But even still, after all of my mistress’s luxury, I can’t deny how luxurious this place is. I have to fight to keep from gawking.

“Come on, I’ll show you everything else.”

“What else is there?”

“The grounds, the training areas, the classrooms, the labs. Oh, and the dorms! I think you’ll like your room. Your little cat is already settled.” I sigh. Of course Zoya is. She never took long to move into a new place.

“Yeah, Zoya is like that.” No doubt she’s already sleeping in the middle of my new bed, expecting me to contort into an uncomfortable position just to sleep around her.

“And your wardrobe is already stocked.” We walk down a different hall, with paintings in golden frames of the different tsars. “This hall will lead you to our classes.”

“I have a wardrobe?” I ask. Natalia laughs. The paintings seem to stare at us.

“That’s what you focus on?”

“You didn’t let me bring any clothes with me,” I point out. “I can’t exactly be seen wearing the same thing twice.” Mistress Katya would kill me on the spot, if social decorum didn’t first.  

“Everything but your cloak.”

“Do you really wear those daily?”

“Of course. We get fancier ones for ceremonies and parties. Those are always fun. Every member of the sorcerer’s guild sees a fair share of courtly fun.” I groan. I hated parties. They were always loud and always isolating. Mistress Katya had to bribe me with books to attend when I was younger. And I knew next to nothing about court, except for the parties Mistress Katya would throw, and her weekly tea circle’s gossip. “I take it that you’ve been educated?”

“Of course I am!” Hot indignance pulses through my veins, suppressing even anger. How dare she think I’m an uneducated serf! I may have come from a low background, but my mistress saw to it that my education was wide and varied. “My mistress saw to it that I knew everything I needed to know. French, German, Latin, Greek, history, literature, reading, writing, politics, economics, piano, violin, flute, voice, drawing and painting, math, fencing, tennis, religion, geography. Even some of her business practices!” Natalia laughs.

“I was kidding.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

“I know you came from an orphanage.”

“How?”

“You call her mistress. Besides, everyone knows of Grand Duchess Katya Fedorovna Lanstrevona, the widow of Captain Peter Lanstrev, the astute business woman who took in an orphan from a village her husband destroyed in a fit of madness.” Oh no. “Everyone knows that story. It was all everyone could talk about for months. We’d all thought she’d gone mad like her husband!” She laughs like it was a fun memory.

“She loves me.” I don’t know why, but I need to defend my mistress to this girl I barely know. This girl who could be my first friend. “She treated me like I was her son!”

“Um..Nikolai-”

“What?”

“The floor...” I glance down at it. My firsts are curled at my sides, knuckles white, but the area around me is completely frozen, ice spikes up to my knees. The air is dry, and something hot runs down my face. Oh no. Oh not again! Hot shame runs through me. This awful...thing.

“I didn’t mean to.”  

“I know.” Natalia fiddles the hem of her white shirt. She traces the navy embroidered flowers on her shirt like she’s weighing her next words. “Do you know how to turn it back to water?”

“Not really,” I admit. “I’m usually better at keeping it under control.”

“Well, calling your power and using it gets pretty easy. We have great teachers here. They’ll teach you how to control it. It’s a snap.”

“How?”

She shrugs. “It’s part of us. Do you want to try and fix it? If not, I’ll call a maid.” I hold out my hands. Making ice is easy. I should be able to give it back to the environment. I shut my eyes and imagine the ice melting and returning to the air. Instead, it turns into a puddle at my feet. Great.

“It’s a start,” Natalia offers. She raises her hands and the water rises.

“Can you make ice?” I ask.

“I’ve tried, but I’ve never been very good at it. Only two others can do it in the academy, and only one other girl in our year.”

“I’ll be studying with all of you?”

“Yep. Advanced studies are great. Guild history, advanced magic, magical theory, LatIn and foreign language, combat, military strategies, dueling, and court history and etiquette. Things we can actually use.”

“Well...that’ll be different.” Already, I miss my tutors coming to the house and working with me in the library. There was at least some peace in it.

“You’ll like it. Open the window for me?” I open the window nearest. Natalia throws the water outside. I shut the window. “It sounds like your mistress had you well prepared for any situation.”  Not this situation.

“Education is important for her.”

“Then you’ll love it here. All these rooms are various classrooms.” She walks down the hall and pushes open two large doors. I follow after her.

Plush green carpet covers the floor. Tall bookshelves line every wall, filled with more volumes than I thought possible. A tall ladder on wheels is perched at each shelf. Tables with plush green armchairs sit and wait for us to read and learn at. A curled golden dome is on the ceiling, inlaid with opals with a fresco of sorcerers summoning the main magical tenants. “We’re always welcome in the library. Most of the books are in Latin, Ancient Greek, or Russian. But we have quite a collection in French, German, Italian, and English...and a few others, too.”

“What kind of books are they?”

“All sorts, but most of it is for magic or research. You can explore it in your freetime, though. Come on, it’s getting late, and I haven’t even showed you the training grounds!”

***

The training grounds, evidentially, are outside and far away from the palace and academy. They’re enclosed with magic shielding them from view and keeping any magical disasters from hitting St. Petersburg. The training grounds are enclosed in another frosted glass dome, though the temperature is colder. It’s a trip through another set of gardens and pathways, including smaller domed classrooms for individual lessons and walking paths. All are guarded with magic barriers meant to keep others out. I look around the expansive space. A lake sits to the left. Green grass covers the ground and a wall tree towers over the lake. I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time here, probably not being very productive. Magic never quite worked the way I wanted.

“You should come with us once you feel comfortable summoning your power. Everyone would be happy to have you. We haven’t had a strong ice presence in our winter ball performance before.” I groan. Of course, the ball.

“Do I have to participate in that?”

“Of course! It starts the entire ball.”

Great. Just great. “Do we have to stay at the ball?”

“What else would you do?”

“Read in the library?” I suggest. My voice quirks up at the end, almost like I’m trying to tell a joke. Natalia tosses her head back and laughs.

“That is the funniest thing I think I’ve heard you say.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m sure.”

“The cook makes a lovely soup-”

“A tea tray and something for Zoya is more than enough, after that nice tour. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. I can wait with you, if you’d like.”

“It’s fine, really. I should be getting ready for bed soon.” Natalia hesitates, then nods.

“I can show you to breakfast tomorrow?” she offers. I bite back a sigh and nod.

“That would be much appreciated.”

“Just ring the bell or open your door if you need anything else. Maids are always available.”

I thank her and bid her goodnight, then close the door to my new room. It is far too opulent. A large four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, with curtains I can draw around it. A large window takes up a large part of the wall, with heavy scarlet drapes embroidered in gold. Dark furniture fills the room. My book sits on the table, but both chairs remain untouched except for my traveling cloak tossed over it. A bathroom rests on the far side of the room with a clawfoot bathtub and soaps that smell like lavender. Plush carpeting covers the floors. Zoya is the only one of us who looks at home, curled onto the blankets and sleeping contentedly in the center of the bed.

“At least you’re happy,” I say. She raises her head and blinks her gold eyes at me, then settles back onto the blankets, a little oasis of calico in a sea of dark blue and black.

Touching anything in this room feels wrong. Nothing here feels like its mine, and moving in seems like sacrilege against Mistress Katya. I move toward the wardrobe. A dressing divider waits for me with a new dressing robe draped over the edge of it, this one black with ice blue embroidery. I flick its sleeve. This all feels ridiculous. I pull open the ornate wardrobe. Inside, stacks of black, white, grey, and navy clothing wait inside. Two pairs of shiny black boots and two pairs of matching dress shoes sit at the bottom. Pajamas take up the other side in the same color scheme. Even a pair of slippers waits for me obediently, black and embroidered in ice blue. There are four suits, but most of the clothing is strange. It all looks similar to peasant cuts, clothes I grew up wearing. Of course, the fabrics are finer and the clothes have no embroidery. But we might as well be dressing like they did when the Romanovs came into power. The only thing missing is a sorcerer’s cloak and I’ll be indistinguishable from the others here.

I shut the doors. This is all too much. I sink onto the floor, my back against the cool wood. At home, I’d be having my third cup of tea in the library, while Mistress Katya planned her ball. I can see home so clearly in my head that it tugs at my heart and leaves me feeling like there’s a hole where it used to be.

Zoya jumps down off the bed and meows softly. I gather her up in my arms. “It’s just us now, isn’t it?” I ask. She meows softly and headbutts my chin. Laughter bubbles up in my throat. She’s been doing this since I was a child. I smile and stroke her fur. Things may change, but Zoya never has. She is my rock, my guide. She curls into my arms and paws at my arm.

There’s a soft knock at the door, followed by a maid entering. She carries a silver tray and tea service. I stand, and she steps back. “Oh! I’m so sorry, my lord. You startled me,” she explains.

“It’s no trouble, really.”

“Your cat is darling.” I look down at Zoya.

“She is. Would you like to pet her?” Zoya blinks at me. She’s not used to me offering to allow others to touch her. I wonder if it’s bothering her. The maid clasps her hands.

“Oh, may I, my lord?”

“If she’ll let you.” She places the tea on the table and approaches us. She gently strokes Zoya’s head. “She likes it when you scratch behind her ears,” I offer. I glance at the tea tray. There’s more than enough for one person, and here’s a second tea cup.

“Why did you bring enough for two?” I ask.

“Oh, well...” The maid shifts, adjusting her plain white dress. “I was ordered to, my lord.” She kneels down and pours some water into a saucer for Zoya, who approaches her saucer carefully.

“Nikolai is fine, really. I’m not a lord.”

“Grand duke then,” she corrects. “Are you not the ward of the Mistress Katya?”

“I...well, yes,” I admit. Titles. I always forgot they were a part of life outside. Formality never pervaded our home, where I was simply, “Nikolai”.

“Will you be requiring anything else? I can draw you a bath if you’d like,” she offers.

“Maybe later,” I say.

“Well, please ring if there is anything I can do for you.” She curtsies and leaves me to my tea for two. I place Zoya back on the carpet. I pull out a chair at the table and pick up my book. Maybe some reading will help. I pick up the tea pot when there’s another knock at the door. Loud and barely gentle, nothing like a servant’s. I frown and move to the door. When I open it, a figure darts inside. I slam it shut and try to focus on calling my power, but it dies when I see the person.

The Prince.

Tsarevich Alexei Romanov, crown prince to all of Russia.