#huddling for warmth so like. a little inconsistent

[marblerose-rue]

OK i have a rough draft for all cats and i keep looking over at the simulation and i thiiink im gonna change around the alliances but i will not change deaths/who kills who. even if some of the deaths are a little Impossible

[masodemic]

[Eroica Musical Rant] The tank scene was the only one they did right

(Series masterlist)

Firstly, to discuss the energy and pacing, I have to talk about the story and how it was written.

The entirety of the musical covers 2 arcs in the manga. The first being Iron Klaus, combining character intro, minus the Caesar fiasco, up to Klaus and Dorian’s vow of eternal hostility to each other in form of Morse code. The second arc they adapted is Dramatic Spring, which follows Klaus’s efforts to foil a Neo-Nazi plot and Dorian, through a series of strange coincidence, becomes entangled in it.

Out of the 2 parts, I would say that the first arc was a little better-adapted, not that it had no flaw. In general, what was disappointing has been touched upon in the previous sections about characters and characterization. But to summarize, a lot of plot points were pulled apart and stitched together (clumsily), resulting in inconsistency and inefficient pacing. There's no sense of competition, tension, or bargain between Klaus and Dorian. Even the Autobahn chase becomes quite boring. In essence, it feels like a Wikipedia listing out the plot in bullet-points .

However, I do have to say that if this production did ANYTHING right, it would have to be the tank scene. This scene immediately follows the Autobahn chase and the 2 main characters find themselves stranded on a cliff near the North Sea. Cold, they go inside the tank and huddle for warmth, which forces them to begin conversing and sharing viewpoints and opinions, eventually both of them harbor a budding respect for each other.

Now, what is it that makes this scene better than all the other scenes in this musical?

While it doesn’t follow the manga exactly, in spirit and in energy, that was the first time (and turns out the only time) it felt like From Eroica with Love. And I think the reason is because this is the first scene that the actors are allowed to basically carry the scene without any “crucial plot point” chasing them from behind or tasteless directions dictating their performance. The actors were allowed to BE their interpretation of their characters, and both show that they understand the assignment. They've got energy, they exchange chemistry, they're dry and snarky which is amazing.

Like Dorian sings ENKA in this! I highly doubt manga Dorian has any remote interest in contemporary Japanese popular culture, but if he did – or say if he was played by a Japanese actor – in a strange way, it makes sense because that’s the kind of energy he evokes. Or say when Klaus sings the tank song, he appears very calm and serene in the manga. But in this scene, he is proud and passionate. And that also makes sense. It’s different, BUT IT’S GOOD. IT’S GOOD WHY CAN’T THE WHOLE 2 HOURS JUST BE LIKE THIS?

(As a side note, Nakayama Yuki needs to drop an enka album right now, I will religiously listen to it, his low range is SO GOOD MY RIBCAGE TREMBLED)

And THAT is the core appeal of From Eroica with Love: the characters. They are so full of personality that the story is driven by them, not the other way around. Things don’t HAPPEN TO them. They cause it, they make it happen. They make each other’s lives chaotic. And that’s why it was crucial for this production to not feel like somebody is backstage holding a script following each line and blocking. I know that’s what’s happening behind the scenes BUT IT SHOULDN’T LOOK LIKE IT. Because when characters feel directed and forced, they lack energy. And when the characters of a character-driven story lack energy, the story lacks energy.

If they had just cut the musical right there at the tank scene, curtain, bow, I would have been like “ok it wasn’t perfect but I was wrong, that was a good attempt at adapting From Eroica with Love." Because if it had ended there, the boring hour that preceded could have been setting up for one crucial climatic emotional scene.

Uhm, but then they went and did the second half.

[jasonsutekh]

La Belle et la Bete (Beauty and the Beast) (1946)

A young woman is forced to live with a beast to save her father but her friend and family seek to rescue her just as she becomes fond of her would-be captor.

 There are distinctly more elements from the original lore from which the story is adapted than other versions like the Disney one, the opening is more reminiscent of Cinderella. The beast is just about endearing enough in some scenes thanks to the realistic make-up effects and how soft the fur looks. There’s some emphasis on internal qualities above beauty which is right but the understanding seems muddled.

 The plot has the same eerie flaws as the original narrative like the dependence on Stockholm Syndrome and the various manipulative or possessive qualities the beast has that don’t help redeem him, not that he really needs redeeming since he’s not even ugly if you like cats. The harmful representation of love and romance shown is old-fashioned and entreats virtue only with many conditions.

 An interesting choice was the use of anthropomorphized furnishings without making them fully aware, it adds to Belle’s paranoia since she’s always being watched and the disembodied limbs adds a little subtext about how the rich view servants. The lighting and direction is engaging and innovative throughout and the ending isn’t as lacklustre as it appears since it sort of gives up and lets them leave in a bizarre way which you have to respect a little.

 The explanations for what caused the curse, why the boys don’t use the gold key, and even what brings them together are scant and thin at best. There’s little consequence for the many bad characters in the film, in fact the one that gets the most punishment is the one who’s poor intentions meant well, whereas the actively malicious people get little or no punishment, unlike many of the bloodier fables.

 5/10 -Cant’ find a better example of average-

 -Made during recovery from Nazi occupation so electricity was unpredictable and there were frequently blackouts.

-The studio and some locations were reportedly so cold that the cast and crew huddled around lights for warmth.

-The juddering effect in some parts is caused by the inconsistent quality and availability of film stock in France at the time.

[edwin-payne-enthusiast]

5asyjvhjjhzjz,,,,, logince fluff,,,, (prefferably with a focus on physical touch bc im weak but no pressure!!)

pretty please 💖💖

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Summary: Logan Evans' first ever relationship began in his senior year of college, after being asked out by Roman Mercia, a particularly charming guy in one of his classes. Unsurprisingly, Logan is rather unused to physical touch, especially in a romantic sense. Of course, Roman is willing to help.

Warnings: This gets a bit suggestive; it’s not smut or anything, just if that sort of stuff makes you uncomfortable then maybe avoid this

Word count: 2361

Ship/s: Logince (of course)

Notes: thank you thank you THANK YOU I have been DYING to write something like this for so long and your request brought me the exact motivation that I needed sdfghjhgfds. This is so incredibly self-indulgent. Enjoy! (also this kind of switches pov a little throughout so sorry about that in advance, I wrote this at like 4 am)

Logan Evans was very new to relationships. This fact didn’t surprise many of the people that knew him. He had always been reserved growing up, and even now, in his senior year of college, he still had trouble opening up to people, especially in a way that made sense for a romantic situation. So, Logan never had a boyfriend in high school, that didn’t bother him, then he didn’t have a boyfriend in his freshman year of college, again this was fine. He didn’t feel like he needed a romantic relationship to be happy and content within his life, he honestly would have been fine finishing college having never had a serious relationship before; it just wasn’t all that important to him.

That was until Roman Mercia, the unbearably cute boy he had been sitting next to in his modern literature class for the past year, had turned to him and asked him out after a lesson, a single rose in his hand and the most glowing, nervous smile he had ever seen on his face, and Logan found it impossible to turn the request down.

Their first date had been awkward, the second, a little less so, and the more time went on the more comfortable he and Roman became around each other. After their sixth date, Roman had asked if Logan wanted to be his boyfriend, and of course Logan said yes.

Now of course, Logan’s inexperience in the romantic area created some challenges for the both of them (some of which Logan didn’t want to admit, all of which Roman was willing to help with), and it was one night, about a month and a half after they started dating, that one of those aforementioned challenges presented itself.

~*~

It had been cold all day, freezing in Roman’s opinion. The heater was turned all the way up to the highest setting, but the heater in Roman’s dorm was slow and cheap, and didn’t do much to provide any warmth. So when Logan came over to binge watch Disney movies with him that night (definitely not Logan’s first choice of movies, but worth enduring if it meant spending time with Roman), he was quick to pull out every blanket he kept in the small dorm, even offering Logan one of his hoodies, which the other man hesitantly accepted.

When they were both warm enough, and the movie queue had been set up, they both got comfortable on Roman’s bed and huddled around Roman’s laptop, all bundled up in blankets, only inches apart from one another, and pressed play on the movie.

They watched in a comfortable silence, disturbed only occasionally by Logan pointing out some inconsistency within the movie or by Roman singing along to one of the songs.

They were about three quarters of the way through the movie when Roman slowly leaned against Logan, sort of cuddling up to his side. They had been going out for almost two months now, but they were never really physical with each other, their hugs were quite brief, they had never kissed, had never spent the night together; the most they ever really did was hold hands.

That never really bothered Roman. Despite being quite an affectionate person, Roman was aware that this was Logan’s first ever relationship, and he wasn’t going to push him outside of his comfort zone before he was ready. He knew that Logan wasn’t used to physical contact in a romantic sense but even so, nothing prepared him for how quickly Logan tensed up at the touch. His back went rigid, the muscles in his jaw tensed, it was involuntary in a way that was so noticeable to anyone paying attention, and it made Roman’s heart ache at the way Logan just said nothing, despite showing those clear signs of discomfort.

Roman shuffled away from Logan again, putting some space in between them and looked at his boyfriend, concern clear in his eyes “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked down at his hands, that tension still rippling through his body. He nodded slowly “I’m fine Roman” he responded after a moment.

“You’re more tense then I’ve ever seen you, you most certainly are not fine” When Logan still didn’t meet his eyes Roman paused the movie and gently shut the screen of his laptop so there was silence in the dorm.

For a few moments it was quiet, the sound of their breaths being the only thing filling the room. For those painstaking moments Roman studied Logan’s face with a deep worry set into his eyes, waiting for his boyfriend to say something.

Eventually Logan took a shaky breath “Please don’t be mad at me” was all he could manage to whisper out.

“Oh sweetheart no” Roman wanted nothing more than to pull Logan into his arms and hold him and reassure him as much as he could, but he wasn’t going to risk making him any more uncomfortable then he already was “I’m not mad at you, not at all”

Logan looked over at Roman and the mixture of disbelief and hesitancy in his eyes saddened him in such a worried way “You’re not?”

“Of course not. I would never get mad because of your boundaries” Roman reassured him with a gentle, concerned smile. Logan looked away for a moment and Roman resisted the urge to reach out for his hand “Darling, we don’t have to talk about it, but could you please tell me what exactly upset you, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable like that again”

Logan sighed and started fidgeting with his hands, still not meeting Roman’s eyes “I’m not… I’m not used to physical touch… at all. Growing up, I didn’t get a lot of affection from anyone really, you’re the first person to ever show me any form of affection that isn’t forced. It’s nice, it really is, but I’m very much not equipped to process the more physical side of things”

Roman nodded slowly, encouraging Logan to continue. He wanted his boyfriend to be able to share these sorts of things with him instead of bottling it up.

Logan paused for a moment, half anticipating a negative reaction. He took a breath and continued, "You're the first person I have ever been on a date with, my first boyfriend, my first relationship. And I want that; I want you to be my first everything, but..."

"You need time?"

Logan shook his head "I just... I need you to take it slowly. I want to hold you tonight, I want to kiss you tonight, I want to, um..." Logan blushed and shrugged, the words on the tip of his tongue embarrassing him just a bit too much to say.

Roman nodded “I understand. You don’t want everything at once, you want to just work up to it”

Logan let out a breath of air that he had been holding and nodded as well “Yes, that’s exactly it”

Roman smiled gently “Thank you for telling me. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable in any way, so if you want to start taking it slow now, why don’t you tell me what’s a comfortable starting place for you”

Logan looked over at Roman, meeting his eyes. He shrugged, a blush still dusting his face “Something… small?” he spoke almost timidly. It was so strange for Roman to see this side of Logan, he was usually so sure of himself, confident, but now he seemed vulnerable, unsure, nervous.

Nodding slightly, Roman reached over, gently taking Logan’s hand in his, scooting just a little closer while still leaving some space between them “Can I kiss your cheek darling?”

Logan took a breath and nodded. He felt jittery with nerves, but he knew Roman would be gentle and listen to what he needed.

Roman leaned forward, slow so that Logan could pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, Roman pressed a gentle kiss to Logan’s cheek “Remember if you start getting overwhelmed or uncomfortable you can ask me to slow down or stop whenever you’d like. I wont force you to do anything you don’t want to do” he spoke quietly, staying as close as he was to Logan.

Logan nodded “I know” he responded, he was still tense, but much less so now that he had voiced his concerns.

Roman waited for a minute or two, letting Logan adjust to the closeness in silence so as to not overwhelm him. After he had felt most of his tension subside, Roman pressed a kiss to his other cheek, then to his forehead, before beginning to trail his kisses down the bridge of Logan’s nose.

Soft laughter bubbled up from Logan at the sensation “That tickles” he said with a smile.

Roman kissed the tip of Logan’s nose and wrapped his arms around his shoulder. This was definitely closer than they had ever really been so far, but Logan wasn’t protesting or showing any signs that he was uncomfortable, which was good to see “How are you feeling starlight?”

Logan met Roman’s eyes, a soft smile adorning his face “Good. This feels nice” this was all so new to him, but it made him feel safe, cared for. He hadn’t felt like this before but it was a feeling he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

Another few minutes passed before Roman got a little closer so that there was less space between them and ran one his hands through Logan’s hair, tracing little circles on his back with the other. Leaning up once more, he pressed a kiss to his forehead “You’re so beautiful” he whispered under his breath as he cupped Logan’s face with his hand, gazing into his eyes with such utter adoration.

Logan felt his breath catch. He rarely ever received compliments so sincere, it was just another aspect of his life that changed when he met Roman. But now he was really listening, he felt everything that came along with, all the love he had for his boyfriend spilled throughout his body, making his face flush, his heart race, his lips pull into a gentle smile. He had completely and utterly fallen for him, and Logan wanted nothing more than to fall over and over again.

“May I kiss you?” Logan spoke without really thinking. He didn’t know if it was too soon, but he had never wanted to lean in taste Roman’s lips more than he did right now, and he was afraid that if he didn’t do it now, he would lose the confidence later.

Roman felt his own face flush and his stomach turn with nerves, but he leaned closer nonetheless “You may”

Though Roman had kissed his fair share of people in his life, he had never felt his heart jump the way it did when his lips connected with Logan’s. Never could he have anticipated such warmth that spread through his body at the contact. Both hands came up to cup Logan’s face as he moved closer. The kiss was slow, gentle, it stole the words he wanted so desperately to say right off of his tongue; I love you, I love you, I love you.

Logan pulled away for air and Roman chased his lips, not willing to let this moment end so soon. Logan leaned into the kiss, he wanted to drown in these feelings, for once he would rather embrace his emotions, he would rather feel. His thoughts were far away, only one really left in his dazed mind; I love you, I love you, I love you. Logan never wanted to stop feeling.

They continued for a while, the gentle push and pull of their bodies introducing them to the blissful comfort of each other’s presence. They shared laughter between their kisses, their breath mingling in the small spaces left between their bodies.

Roman was the one who pulled away after however long, stroking Logan’s bottom lip with his thumb “Is it all right if I go a little further darling?”

All Logan could do was nod rather enthusiastically, which made Roman smile.

He wrapped his arms around Logan's waist, pulling their chests flush against each other. Roman pulled away just a little to leave a kiss on Logan's cheek, then his earlobe, then just behind his ear.

Roman's warm breath between the kisses he had begun to trail gently down his neck and towards his collarbone was enough to make Logan squirm, but certainly not uncomfortably. Logan had never felt quite like this before, but he didn’t want this feeling to end, he never wanted to leave Roman’s warm embrace, he wanted to kiss him over and over again, to feel his warm breath cascading down his neck every night, to hold him, to be there with him.

As Roman’s kisses became more passionate, Logan’s hands found their way under Roman’s shirt and in his hair, tugging gently so he could have something to hold onto as Roman began sucking light marks into his skin of his neck, pulling small gasps from Logan.

And if he didn’t already know it, now he knew, he had fallen completely and inexplicably in love with Roman Mercia. Two months ago, he was just some guy in his modern literature class, now he was the man he loved, the only one he had ever loved, his first everything, his only everything.

“I love you” Logan whispered out into the cold air. The words felt heavy on his tongue but right. Like there was only one small answer to such a difficult question, and Logan knew exactly what that answer was; he had never been good with feelings, but tonight he knew.

“I love you too starlight” Roman mumbled back into the crook of his neck, his voice gentle and full of such meaning that it made Logan feel loved in a way that damn near brought tears to his eyes.

Logan Evans had never been great at relationships, but he was learning. Roman Mercia had never felt so deeply for someone before, but he was feeling.

Both had never fallen in love, both were falling.

[yellowsbuttercup]

pairing: yuta x reader

warnings/genre: slight angst, fluff, established relationship, nightmares,

word count: 0.5K

a/n: this is a special post for @byeolhyesisi!! aka precious hooman. also im gonna settle down on this kind of layout with the blurred lines bare with my inconsistency. luv yall :33

date: 05/11/21

reader.

It was a chilly night, huddled up against each other’s warmth with blankets draped over us. The changing scenes of the movie on the television reflected on our attentive faces. But as time went by, my eyelids started getting heavier. I fought with myself to keep my eyes open but in the end, I lost to tiredness and sleepiness taking over me.

Not long after, I then found myself under the rain holding hands with someone. He was looking at me with apologetic eyes that made me confused. The little hairs on his forehead sticking onto his skin because of the rain while my eyes blinked the drops away.

His hand goes up to my face, caressing it so softly like I was going to break just by a more slightly forceful movement. He leans in closer and planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. He pulls away with a tear visibly streaming down his cheek along with the other raindrops that fell down on his face.

“I’m sorry”, he said, walking away and left me cold, drenched…alone. I couldn’t process the sudden events, sinking down to my knees and cried harshly that anyone can hear but I couldn’t care less.

yuta.

The movie was already rolling down the credits before I even knew it. I sighed, putting my hands in the air to stretch until I felt weight on my shoulder. I look over to my side to hear her snoring. The corner of my lips pulled up thinking how just precious and peaceful she looked in her slumber.

I grabbed the remote and turned the television off. Carefully, I wrapped my arm around her back to assist her followed by my other arm carrying her body. I brought us to an open door leading to our shared room. Closing it my foot, I took a few more steps to place her on the bed gently. I brought the covers up below her neck to keep her warm.

I was gonna walk towards the closet to change when I felt her grab my arm. I looked back at her to see tears running down her cheeks.

“Y-Yuta wh-why did you leave me?”, she said in-between hiccups and it made my heart melt. Another bad dream.

I sneaked up beside her, getting under the covers and wrapping my arm around her waist. She turns to face me, hugging me tighter as she continued to sob on my chest. I hummed a tune to help her calm down as I soothed her back up and down.

Her tears had soon stopped. Her breath was even and still against my neck. She snored quietly as I let out a chuckle. I kissed her forehead and said, “I ought to take you out of those nightmares and give you a good dream to remember. Even if it means risking my life. I love you”.

In reality, I could never leave her alone in the cold. I will always be by her side to warm her up despite the strong rain outside our home. Our love.

[vixenpen]

Caged Hearts

((Hawks x Miku ((oc))

Chap 29. Friends For Now

Keigo swiped a hand over his tired face, and tried to rearrange his features into a smile. It didn’t feel right so he dropped it, and took a deep breath before letting himself into Miku’s hospital room.

Sunlight spilled through the open blinds, bathing the room in light.

Keigo felt as his heart had stopped when he spotted Miku. Then he saw the dark skinned woman with gleaming black wings holding her hand, and it plummeted into his stomach.

Because that woman, was undoubtedly...

“Kei!” Miku exclaimed, eyes widening at the sight of him. A bright beam lit up her face.

“Ang-“ his eyes flitted to the dark skinned woman next to her, and he changed his tune. “Miku...”

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Miku exclaimed, although her voice was a bit weak, lacking its usual exuberance. She waved him to her bed side. “Keigo this is my mother Angela Tsuichi, mommy this is Keigo.”

Miku’s mother, shot him a tired, but friendly smile.

“Of course. The hero that my baby’s been going on and on about for months.”

“Ma,” Miku frowned.

“And of course the man that saved her,” she took Keigo’s hand in hers. It was soft and cool, but the touch was firm. What he imagined a mother’s touch should be.

“Thank you, Keigo.”

For what?

He wanted to ask.

If it wasn’t for me, your daughter would have been safe. Of course I had to rescue her. I love her and I almost got her—

“Of course.” Keigo nodded with a small, tight smile back at the woman.

“Well, I’ll give you two some space.” Ms. Tsuichi leaned over to kiss Miku’s forehead before leaving the couple alone together.

Keigo stared down at Miku’s tired little figure huddled under the starched hospital blankets for a long while, frowning.

The long silence between them made Keigo’s thoughts seem even louder. His golden eyes fell to her singed white feathers and he felt his stomach knot.

“Kei?” Miku hummed.

He looked at her.

“You know you can sit down, right?” She scoffed.

Keigo sank into the chair at her bedside, shoulders and wings drooping with his weight.

“How do you feel, Angel?”

“Like shit, but I’ve felt worse.” She chuckled.

Keigo’s frown deepened.

“Angel, I—“ he swallowed the lump in his throat, and continued. “I’m sorry.”

Miku’s brows wrinkled. “For what?”

“Everything!” He choked out. “If it weren’t for me, Dabi never would have targeted you. You would have never been kidnapped. I should have never-never..”

Never what? Met her? Pursued her? Dated her? Fallen for her?

Been selfish enough to to want all of those things?

Have you ever chosen yourself?

“I should have never gotten you mixed up in my shit.”

“Keigo, you didn’t get me mixed up in your shit.”

“I didn’t tell you the whole truth about Dabi. I dated you Knowing that he could be out there.”

“So you were supposed to put your life on hold waiting for Dabi to strike?”

“I should have been more careful.”

“You can’t control everything, Keigo,” Miku’s head collapsed against the pillows as she stared at him. “Even if we hadn’t dated, Dabi would have went after someone else you cared about.”

“Anyone else would have been able to protect themselves, but you—“

“Are a grown woman who made my own decisions.” She shot back, in a firm tone.

Keigo pressed his lips shut.

“Keigo,” Miku sighed, “I’m alive and safe because of you.”

“You were kidnapped because of me.” He shot back.

“No. I was kidnapped because of Dabi.”

Because he was trying to hurt me by hurting you...

Keigo said nothing. Miku must have sensed his unease, because she reached a hand towards him, wiggling her fingers with a smile.

Despite himself, the man managed a smile back and slipped his hand in hers. It was soft and warm. He was so grateful for the warmth. He squeezed it gently.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Keigo’s fingers twitched in Miku’s hand. His mind stumbled over every thought swimming around his brain. It didn’t help that the warm, soft weight of Miku’s hand was nestled in his. Distracting him from what he needed to say.

He loosened his grip some. It didn’t make it any easier, but it did make it less distracting.

“I—don’t...I don’t think we should date anymore.” He finally managed.

“I don’t either.”

Keigo swallowed what he was almost confident was his heart attempting to climb out of his throat.

“I don’t need a boyfriend right now,” Miku continued. Then she gripped his hand with renewed strength. “But I could really use a friend.” She smiled. It was tiny and hopeful.

Keigo returned it easily.

“I can be that.” He replied.

“Sooo,” she bit her lip. “Friends?” She asked.

A sad, but amused little huff escaped him. He leaned forward until his lips found hers. In that moment, Keigo’s mind felt clear for the first time in weeks.

When he pulled back, he swept his other hand along her cheek and held her gaze.

“Friends for now.” He corrected.

“Friends for now.” Miku repeated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now, you have a lot of fans who want to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself since the incident. Do you have any plans to continue with your music at all?”

The interviewer asked. Miku appreciated the woman’s gentle voice and her tactful handling of the questions.

Following her kidnapping and her release from the hospital, Miku was determined not to let what happened to her shape her narrative. But just because she could put on a brave face did not mean she was ready to go into details about the incident.

She smiled, tilted her head to show off her best angle and replied: “I don’t want my fans to worry. Myself and my team have decided that it’s in my best interest to...step away from the idea of touring for right now and focus on other projects. I have something planned that I think they’re going to like.” She gave a little wink.

“Oh! That sounds promising. Can we have a hint on what it is?”

“Well—“

The chiming of the doorbell disrupted the interviewer, and Miku’s heart revved as her head snapped towards the door along with the interviewers.

Miku cleared her throat.

“I-I wasn’t expecting anybody.” She explained.

The interviewer frowned.

“Excuse me.”

Miku tried not to let her unease show as she headed for the front door. When she opened it, a leopard spotted man in a delivery suit greeted her with a smile.

“Got a bouquet for a Ms. Shirogane.”

“Oh-!”

As soon as her eyes fell on the vase of dandelions protected in their little plastic globe to keep the seeds from blowing away, she knew exactly who they were from.

Miku giggled, and accepted the bouquet from the man.

“Enjoy your flowers!” He announced before heading off.

The woman shut the door behind him and checked the note attached.

For my uniquely packaged flower. With all my love.

Sincerely,

Your friend for now.

(I cannot tell you guys how grateful I am that I got all through the story and that y’all supported me through it. It was hard for me to write I’m sure that shows I’m sure there’s like a shit ton of inconsistencies that I’m going to have to go back and fix. But the fact that I actually finished some thing with the way my ADHD and my anxiety is set up, i’m just so proud to have completed some thing. I’m not fully happy with it, And I’m definitely going to go through and re-write it but for the time being I’m just glad that I finished Miku and Keigo’s story and that I can move on with a clear mind. This won’t be the last that you see these two bird brains because I adore them and I want to do more for them but this is it for now)

[kitchenangst]

Before Anything Good pt. 1

Mako x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Barely one month of living on the streets, and Mako has grown skeptical of anything good that’s offered freely to him. When the girl from the other side of town calls him stinky and demands he take a shower, he might just be right about his newfound cynicism. 

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: first time writing a fic so pls feel free to give constructive criticism and say any errors i make! very very slow burn, might have inconsistent tenses

a/n: hi!! This is just my interpretation of Mako and Bolin growing up on the streets, but if there’s any errors of whatever kind pls let me know!!!!! 

pt. ii | pt. iii

Mako hated it. The crawling suspicion of stares grabbing him like wisps of fire over his body whenever he walked down the streets never left, even if he was in the faux safety of the dark alleyway he now had no choice but to call home. He couldn't help looking around, trying to find the pair of eyes that pitied him, the sneaky hands that tried to pickpocket the only remaining yuans he had, or the thoughts that hated dirty, useless, rotten children who had nothing better to do than steal for survival. 

He unconsciously reached for his little brother's hand and hunched his shoulders to his ears, the red scarf loosely wrapped around his shoulders reaching higher and higher up his face as his eyebrows deepening his scowl moved lower and lower and his legs dragging themselves faster and faster. 

He ignored the tugging on his hand until he heard his brother's strained call, "Mako? Ow, ow, ow!"

Mako whipped around to face his brother just as he stopped in his tracks. "Bolin! Are you okay?" His eyebrows undoing the previous tension and raising in concern before realizing Bolin was pulling his own hand free from the bruising grasp he held. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your hand," he lamely responded with a wince despite not being the one in pain. His hand found its place on his brother's shoulder. "C'mon, I spotted those bullies from yesterday. Let's get going."

Mako's eyes continued to flicker around, only returning Bolin's gaze once he noticed the subtle nod of his head. He let Bolin walk ahead of him, his own hand protectively hovering over the younger one's shoulder, and continued to walk at Bolin's pace. Admittedly, it was slower than the one he usually walks. Bolin, at the age of 6, isn't as tall as Mako, doesn't have the will to keep his stomach from growling even longer, and sees walking leisurely as a better way to conserve energy than speeding away from bullies. 

The low humming of fire crackling and the unpredictable wisps dancing along his skin returns, and he can't help but grab Bolin's shoulder more firmly, moreso to ground himself from getting lost in the uncontrollable heat than to run away at a moment's notice. He pockets his other hand and busies himself with recounting the yuans he brought today. At the count of 21, his head follows the sudden blur in the corner of his eye, making sure to remember every face that so much as makes eye contact, stare, leer-

"Mako?" Bolin calls when the hand on his shoulder is near a death grip, which, to his relief, immediately loosens. "Can we get dinner? At the place with the nice lady who gives us free tea?"

--

1358 yuans. That's the remaining amount of currency they had after selling every article of clothing and anything salvageable from their wrecked home once their parents passed. That's enough for about 6 weeks if they keep eating at food stalls for breakfast and dinner and split it between the two. 2 months, at the very least, if they were to live off of apple-peaches, maybe longer if they resort to stealing--

No! They're orphans, living on the streets, having just lost their parents and in no way, able to contact their relatives from Ba Sing Se. Even after being turned away from every door, they still had to be law-abiding citizens and were expected to pay for their needs. Then what had they done for their parents to pay their life for them to end up huddling underneath the worn down cardboard as their blanket? Mako blinks the stinging feeling of tears away before they have the chance to form. 

Even after 2 weeks of the unfortunate event, Mako and Bolin still couldn't get used to the hard concrete beneath them, how the cardboard will never be as soft as a blanket or wrap around their shivering forms, or how their dad's scarf that smells like home was starting to smell like sweat and smoke. Although Mako wears it during the day, he makes sure to wrap it around Bolin’s neck, and leaves the ends of it centered between their two forms once they lay down. 

Mako thanks his mom for teaching him the basics of fire bending, seeing as Bolin revels in the warmth of the flame lit between them that paints his face in the softest of oranges and reds better than any compliment or praise. He kept the flame lit, reciting his mother’s bedtime stories until Bolin's eyelids grew heavy and were far and fewer in between blinks. With a small smile, he pulls the cardboard over their shoulders once Bolin returns his good night, and lets sleep take over. 

--

Wake, eat, restroom, sleep. Although it wasn’t always in that order, the two brothers were growing familiar with the schedule. Protect their money, check their money, and use it sparingly. Luckily, Bolin was able to earthbend a small chunk of the ground out to place their money. It looked a little out of place… and anyone could bend or dig it out… but it was better than placing it directly underneath anything else (they did put some effort into concealing it by adding more rocks around it). Other than protecting their money, they deal with the bullies who happen to always start the verbal war, and it usually ends with either the brothers running away or with their parents scolding them. Whatever their reason, the two are just glad to see them gone.  

“Why are you two just sitting there?” 

Speak of the devil, Mako internally groans as he puts himself in front of Bolin. He looks up to tell the person to screw off, but halts at the new face. Just a few feet away, a little further from the alley entryway, the setting sun casts a warm shadow on a girl, no older than him, with her brows furrowed and a frowning mouth to match. 

Bolin’s form visibly shrinks at the new person, and in Mako’s legs, the flames grow frantic and set his instincts on fire to run and to leave before her parents would confront them with their pitiful stares and-

“Are you lost?” Her voice lifts in confusion and distracts him from his turmoil. 

With a scowl, Mako responds, “Just leave us alone.” To get the message across, he crosses his arms and looks as intimidating as he could. 

Not frightened in the slightest, she persists. “Why? Won’t your parents worr-”

“We don’t have any!” Mako's hands gesture wildly, as if pointing in every direction will show her his parents are nowhere to be found. 

Her eyes find their way to Bolin’s before meeting Mako’s again, and her brows lift in understanding. “Oh… I don’t know what to say…” Whatever expression she wore turns blue quickly. 

“Then don’t,” Mako spits at her with any remaining energy he has. Even briefly mentioning his parents always leaves a sour note in his mouth and somehow drains him of his energy. “Better yet, just leave us alone!” 

The next few seconds drag out like months with the way Mako glares at her, and he’s caught off guard when she suddenly grabs his hand and tugs him out of the alleyway, too flustered at the thought of holding hands to yank it out. She looks over her shoulder, making brief eye contact with Bolin as she motions for him to follow her. 

“Where are you taking us?” Bolin questions once he catches up. “You’re not taking us to the butcher, are you? To be butched?”

She looks down at him and laughs. “Silly pig-bear! I don’t think you’ll be very tasty when you haven’t taken a bath!” Mako quickly swipes his hand from her hold to grab Bolin, who was frozen at her blunt statement. “No, no! I was joking,” she quickly explains at the sight of Bolin’s fearful eyes and Mako beginning to drag them away from her. “No, I just wanted to take you to the bakery!” As if timed, their stomachs growl at the mention of baked goods. 

With great reluctance and Bolin’s pout, Mako gives in. “Fine, but only if you’re paying.” 

She tugs their hands to their destination again, the swinging in her arms, the upbeat humming, and the bounce in her step all indicating her happy mood. Happy for what, Mako doesn’t know. He wouldn’t understand why a stranger would be willing to bring them somewhere to eat unless she had some sort of intentions. Her mood was effective in lowering his guard a bit, though, if it meant that the handholding wasn’t as unpleasant as he thought it would be when it was for something other than life threatening. Even Bolin had gotten over his initial dilemma to ask, “So, how are you paying?” 

“How else would I buy the bread?” 

“Well, sometimes we steal apples to save money.” 

Just when the girl opens her mouth to respond, Mako quips in. “Money that we don’t have!” The weird look she gives prompts him further, “Because… We’re homeless, and we don’t have any…” Right, because any idiot would be dumb enough to say they have money unprotected while they’re away from it.

At her nodding, she stares ahead, expression saddening as she starts to speak, “I’m not going to force you to come and pay, if that’s what you’re worried about… If you guys don’t have any money, how have you been eating when you can’t steal?” 

Mako’s shoulders begin to relax at the thought of not paying for food, having hardly noticed that they were tense the entire time, while Bolin faces the ground, as if what he was saying next would bring him shame. “Sometimes we don’t eat at all.” 

And they advance to their destination quicker, if her sudden change in pace were any indication of her giving these two food faster would make the dampened mood lighten up. Her grip tightens as if telling them it’ll be okay, and for a moment, Mako believes in the nonverbal reassurance. For the past 3 weeks, Mako has grown accustomed to the nasty looks he’s given when he’s trying to scour for free food, and only knew of a hand that was used to put him in his place, to bring more pain into his life than he needed, to point fingers, and he hated any hand motion other than being motionless by the side of its owner. Now… maybe he can count on this hand as the one that leads him towards the dimming fire that he tried to put out during his time on the streets. 

She lets go of their hands to face them. Both brothers look to their right as the crisp aroma drifts into their noses, the scent filling their bodies with the familiar warmth they haven’t felt since before their parent’s death. “Okay, before we eat! You guys stink,” she announces to bring their attention back to her. 

Nevermind. I take it all back. Mako’s brows scrunch the same moment her nose does when he opens his mouth. “What do you expect from two homeless kids?” 

“We don’t even have washed clothes,” Bolin adds. 

“Okay!” Her eyes were as bright as the bulb that lit her ideas. “Because I’m paying, you two have to take a bath. Or shower. Whichever you prefer.” 

“And you suggest we do that…” At her confused look, Mako continues, “where?” 

“My house, dummies!” Their rigid nodding making her nod along excitedly at the idea of doing good. She opens the door to the bakery, the bell above chiming and the faint aroma from before now assaulting the party’s noses as they take in all the bread on display.

--

a/n: thank you for reading!! also yeah, you’d think after reading for so long, writing would come to you haha no so make sure you appreciate the writing blogs you follow and read from!! I do plan on fleshing this story out all the way to book 4 but I have no idea how long that’ll take or if it will be done at all. also sorry this ended weirdly but i’m tired and i just wanted to get it out there and the way i planned it would’ve been SO long so I’m splitting this bit into another part! it’s a slow burn like I mentioned in warnings but yeah, be prepared. it’s a LONG time before there’s any romance going on hehe

pt. ii | pt. iii

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 08

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Talk of insecurities, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.7k

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  “You guys…”

I shook my head in disbelief, knowing exactly how the smile wouldn’t leave my face for the rest of the night. It was still slightly warm, but the boys were freshly showered and clothed in jumpers and coats to prevent sickness. I breathed in awe at the sight of them.

“You’re all absolutely amazing.” 

Taehyung, who was one of the first to reach me, couldn’t stop beaming at the shaky delivery of the words.

“Thank you! (Y/n)-ah, you’re the best!” he yelled in an excitable manner, and without warning he thrust himself aggressively into my arms. I could physically sense how much his body was trembling with unbridled happiness. That at least seemed to explain this unexpected attack.

I let out a surprised huff, but it became muffled by his thick woolly coat as he smothered me deep into the suffocating warmth. “Tae!”

I was stunned, but there was no way I wasn’t going to return the hug wholeheartedly. The other boys immediately moved to stop their bubbling bandmate and I knew Namjoon would likely be the most disgruntled. What they weren’t prepared for was me to ducking Taehyung’s head and roughening up his hair with one frisky hand.

“You’re too cute.” I pinched one of his cheeks and laughed when he puffed them out in an even cuter display of glee. His friendly and outgoing nature would surely be the death of me, but where exactly did his sexiness on stage even come from? I guessed that I’d never really seen the more earnest or mature side of the boy just yet.

“Alright, alright! Don’t kill the girl,” Yoongi piped in loudly from the back of the group, but his smile was still there, even if it was only small and hidden under a partial look of disgust. I glanced around to see the other members sharing a similar brightened mood full of accomplishment, and I couldn’t even blame them after how exhilarating the night had been as a whole.

They were certainly used to this experience, which was a similarity I couldn't share even as an ARMY. The fact that they could still be this happy about performing for their fans, even after several comebacks and widespread concerts, was just an incredible feat in itself.

“I’ve never watched you all live, only through a screen.” I stepped back from Taehyung to address them all, knowing my eyes were undoubtedly starting to water.

“It…it was just so much more than I could ever imagine. Every single one of you has such an incredible stage presence, and I could only catch glimpses the whole time! Everything I could hear, the fans chanting along, the live vocals, rapping. It was all so surreal, I was-”

I trailed off, moving my hands rapidly to try and formulate the thoughts whirring around in my head into words. Korean words at that. I knew I was launching into a full-blown rant but couldn’t bring myself to care. They needed to know these things. I mean they surely did know already, right?

Namjoon stepped forward and nodded at me with a gentle smile resting on his features. I scrutinised the look in his eyes and saw genuine, glowing happiness from within their depths. He was truly grateful for the support, and with the way he reached forward to softly give my shoulder a squeeze along with the nod, I knew he felt more than heard the point I was trying to get across.

“Aw, she’s lost for words!” Hoseok chuckled and dashed over to stand next to where Taehyung was still smiling. “Thank you (Y/n)! Guys, look at our little staff-ARMY.”

He stood behind me and took care not to let his large duffle bag knock me over. I just knew he was making little cutesy hand gestures behind my head. Seokjin grinned and made a big deal of pulling a finger heart unexpectedly from one of his pockets, dampened black hair falling into his mischievously glinting eyes. In my head, I was only relieved that he didn't blow a kiss.

Don’t fucking lie, you'd eat that shit up like a starved animal.

“Do you want me to take back what I said?” I eventually threatened and tried to whack Hoseok’s hands away, but he just continued to tease me while darting to the side. I was about to lose my composure from the sight of his facial expressions alone.

“Boys!”

At the deep and commanding voice, all of us turned to see one of the managers beckoning the group towards a line of black transport vans. I was suddenly brought back to reality, remembering that they would be travelling back separately and celebrating their own success in the dorms they called home.

I really needed to stop wanting more than I could have.

“Oh, sorry manager-nim!” Namjoon called before quickly bowing in my direction and taking his leave. Most of the others followed without question, but Jungkook turned his whole body to wave back towards my lonesome figure.

“Thanks for all your help noona!”

I smiled brightly and waved both hands, noting that some of the other members followed their maknae’s example and yelled back their own variety of appreciative phrases. My heart was full.

“Thanks Kook-ah, and all of you better get some rest!”

They began to pile into the van slowly, almost as if hesitating in their rush to leave. I was a little confused, because wouldn’t they want a well-earned session of R&R right about now? I mean, after the concert and all…

At least Yoongi was quick to ditch his bag and scramble into the vehicle to find a comfy seat. I truly did sometimes wonder if that man was my humanoid spirit animal. Another smattering of seconds passed before I noticed one member in particular lagging behind the rest, though.

Jimin had become sluggish, and it only occurred to me then how silent he’d been after the initial holler of my name. We couldn’t have that now, could we?

“Hey Jiminie, not so fast.” I jogged a few strides to catch the pale-haired boy, grasping onto the sleeve of his hoodie to stop him in his tracks. Knowing his manager wouldn’t be happy with the delay, I sought for help desperately with hawk-like eyes, and eventually caught the troubled gazes of both Taehyung and Yoongi.

I need a diversion!

Suddenly seeing their bandmate in such a state had already caused the members grave concern, but that only meant they could understand my intentions with more clarity. In a brilliant spark of a plan whispered by an ardent Seokjin, Namjoon patted at his pockets wildly and groaned before leaning forwards.

“Hyung, I think I left my phone in the dressing room.”

The manager, who had finally settled into the driver’s seat, turned off the van with a sigh and pointedly glowered at the leader. I silently blessed Namjoon and all of his clumsiness as he hurriedly rushed past back inside the venue hall, leaving me with a reassuring smile as he went. Jimin followed the rapper with curious, concerned eyes.

“What is-”

“Jimin, are you alright?” I gripped his sleeve harder, willing for his attention to be brought back my way. The younger boy looked down at the sudden pressure and then followed it upwards. I kept my voice gentle and probing, not wanting him to think I was excessively pitying him and his uncertainties.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He smiled, but I saw past the softened exterior.

An obvious strong front, how should I go about this?

“Are you sure? You were a bit quiet. Why didn’t you leap into my arms like Tae?” I joked, and thankfully he produced a smaller but more genuine half-smirk.

“Ah, Taehyungie can be a bit much sometimes, but if you wanted a hug from me all you had to do was ask.”

I could tell there was still a few doubts sowed within his mind: maybe about his performance? It was commonplace to hear people say how the sweetly natured singer was notorious for these kinds of things. He needed attention when it came to this brand of negativity, and he could have all of mine without even asking for it. No doubt Hoseok, Tae and Kookie had been onto him already.

“In your dreams.” I laughed. “I was gonna tell you how I especially enjoyed your performance, but I don’t know anymore.”

“Really? I was off-key for like, most of the concert.” He turned his gaze downwards and I could feel the hurt curling deeply within my chest. It wasn’t even my own, but it still made a painful lump rise up into my throat. The next decision was made before I could even grasp at what my mind was conjuring.

“Hmm, can I have that hug?” I raised an eyebrow and watched as his saddened eyes began to gleam with surprise and a tinge of warmth.

“What, now?”

“Of course you numpty, I always thought you’d be the best hugger so I want to prove myself right.” I held out my straightened arms, waiting for his response but also prepared for refusal. I knew it was quite strange, and I knew that he was nervous because the people in the van were eyeing us off like helpless prey.

“What happened to ‘in your dreams’?” he snorted, but I saw his uncovered hands twitch needily.

I turned to look behind me, meeting Yoongi’s gaze within the van once again with my own and letting it sharpen in yet another signal. He instantly tapped into my brain’s wavelength and reached out to pull the members into a small huddle, effectively creating a diversion. Damn, these boys were on fire tonight with their skills in clairvoyance.

“Fine.”

I only heard the sharp breathy sigh from Jimin before suddenly, I was warm again. He was obviously smaller than Taehyung, but that only made it all the cosier. I felt as though I fit into his frame like a long-lost puzzle piece.

I barely had any time to turn back around, but it was easy to see he would’ve been too shy in any other circumstance. I brought my hands up to encircle him immediately, not wanting him to start getting cold feet.

“Jiminie, I want you to know just how much I love your vocals.” I squeezed him back, relaxing my tense body and allowing my chin to nuzzle into his shoulder. “I want you to know that to us, it doesn’t even matter that you’re not perfect, because nobody is.”

“Your singing and dancing are continuously what we want as our own version of perfection, no matter how different one performance is from the next. We know you work hard every time. Without fail. And you may hear these kinds of things already, but I just really need you to hear it right now.”

He relaxed even more into my hold, and I noticed how I’d unconsciously started rubbing one hand around in lazy circles across his back as a comforting gesture. His hands tugged into tiny fists behind my waist before he was suddenly pulling back. I thought about how cute and unnecessarily considerate it was that he didn’t even dare to touch me with his own palms. When you really thought about it, we hadn’t known each other long enough to consider ourselves as ‘close’.

“You’re sweet. Thanks for telling me that.” His voice was clipped with emotion, but his smile was the realest one I had caught a glimpse of in a while. My breath was taken away by how effortlessly an airy giggle followed in the wake of his words.

“Jimin I’m serious, stop hurting me with your self-doubt,” I wailed and playfully bumped his arm with my own. His serious expression crumbled even further as another bout of laughter gripped his body. His eyes disappearing into dark, crescent shaped moons.

“I’m sorry! Why did you hug me if I was hurting you?”

First of all, it was you who hugged me…

“Sometimes I can’t express things completely in words, and you know what they say about body language,” I murmured and saw him nod in understanding. He was flushed, and I knew the shy boy had once again finally returned.

“Ah, you’re right. Well I needed that anyway, you’re amazing (Y/n). Everyone’s always having to boost me up, I’m sorry.”

I forced myself to keep my eyes trained on his, even though intense emotions of profound gratitude and respect were swimming within them. I wouldn’t be able to call myself strong-willed if my heart couldn’t even take Park Jimin being sincere.

“Stop, before I hug you again.”

He looked like he wanted to stand and test the theory, but was interrupted by the loud commanding tone of his manager yet again. Maybe Jimin wanted to celebrate together just like I did? The idea was improbable at best, but the embers of hope were ignited and fuelled the longer I spent standing in the car-park.

Wait, how long had Namjoon even been back from finding his ‘phone’?

“Oh.” Jimin tilted his head in disappointment and sighed, “I forgot about that, are you alright to get back?”

He was suddenly concerned again, and I almost clicked my tongue at the unsurprising turn of events.

“Yes Jimin, I’ll be fine. But if you don’t rest up properly, I will hunt you down.”

“Oho, and what?” he challenged, adjusting the strap of his own duffel bag onto his shoulder. I only noticed it now for some reason. The large black obstacle must have been abandoned on the ground for most of the encounter.

“I’ll…torture you into eating a healthy meal and going to bed,” I finished with crossed arms and flashed him a defiant expression. His irises of deep mahogany sparkled with amusement, but I didn’t want to keep him occupied for too long.

“Actually, I don’t have access to the dorm. I’ll tell Seokjin-oppa to do it for me.”

He chuckled and shook his head, shuffling from foot to foot as he procrastinated on bidding his farewells. “I’m sure ‘Seokjin-oppa’ would love to have you over for dinner one night anyway.”

“Really?” I balked, honestly not expecting the somehow sarcasm-soaked response. Would I actually be able to visit their home one day? The very thought instigated feelings of excitement and scepticism so strong that I had to fan myself to get rid of the heat alighting my face.

“I would. We all would,” Jimin continued, scuffing at the ground with the toe of his shoe before smiling up at me once more. I couldn’t help but think this whole scene probably looked like an awkward confession to anyone passing by.

“Jimin-ah, we need to get going! Jin-hyung’s stomach is making noises again,” Hoseok exclaimed suddenly from the open van door, and I jolted at the sudden reminder that they were all still waiting for their blonde-haired bandmate.

“Fuck, Jimin please go before I’m the meat they decide to grill.” I grimaced and squeezed his forearm in a final act of reassurance before backing away. He nodded at me with blown out eyes, dramatics increasing tenfold, and I had to stop myself from laughing even more.

“Bye, you crazy ball of talent!”

I waved and turned to step right out of the situation, praying to dear God the manager didn’t roast the living hell out of the poor boy. It was my fault more than anyone’s, even if I did have a few helping hands.

I didn’t stick around to hear a reply and scanned the area for my own ride home. It seemed there were still a few people packing up, and I felt guilty for being lazy with most of it.

Hey, I did help in another way, I guess.

I realised with disdain that my ride with the three female crew-members was already long gone from the scene, and I had been so quickly thrust into the vehicle that I didn’t even have time to think about driving out here in my own Red. How inconvenient could you possibly get?

“I guess I’m calling an Uber.”

            Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​, @gee-nee​, @m0chilattae​, @rossemayme​, @doilooklikeinoe​

[halfabreath]

idk if u still want requests for this but “we can’t do this” kisses and holsom?

I ALWAYS WANT REQUESTS FOR THIS.

so uhhhhhh we got a fast and loose Holsom Road to El Dorado AU here where they're still criminals who wind up in this situation but instead of looking for El Dorado/an indigenous civilization they're looking for a mythical ice kingdom/treasure and guess the fuck what they definitely find it and end up in a poly situation with a Helpful Local named Alexei Mashkov while grim hockey prince Jack Zimmermann looks on in concern 

i don't know much but i do know that instead of the mayan ball game it's hockey and instead of an armadillo buddy there's a wolverine and Holster has a melodica instead of a mandolin (I will pay someone real monetary currency to draw this but with holster in this verse) but i'm getting way ahead of myself anyway here's the thing

The sky is endless, and ridiculously blue, and annoying as fuck because it won't. Stop. Moving. 

Ransom's not sure how long they've been in this lifeboat. He knows it can't be more than three weeks because they don't have any food. The water lasted until yesterday or - no, the day before yesterday - or, wait, no. Ransom's not sure. They're still alive, though, inexplicably, but Ransom's not sure how much longer that will be true. 

Not long, probably. They both know that. Holster's a realist and Ransom understands the biological limitations. They're con men, not idiots. Well. They're going to die in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean, so they're definitely idiots. Ransom sighs, tips his head back to take in more of that big, beautiful, infuriating, nauseating sky that's drifting above them. He's back to back with Holster, head cushioned on his partner-in-literal-crime's big shoulder. They've sat like this a thousand times; back to back is the safest way to sleep on the abandoned buildings and sketchy taverns they frequent. Holster's back is a little bonier than usual, but still comfortable (Ransom doesn't think about how they've always fit together, even when they were gangly teens huddling for warmth, or when they're sharing a hiding spot that's only big enough for a normal sized human and they have to squeeze together in order to fit, or when Holster had grabbed his hand when they were fleeing the Law Abiding Xenacious Brotherhood all those days? weeks? ago. Even while they were sprinting through side streets and jumping over roofs, their hands had fit together perfectly). 

"Holtzy, did you ever imagine it would end like this?" Ransom asks suddenly, desperate to keep himself from thinking about Holster's hands, because if he thinks about his hands he'll think about his arms and if he thinks about his arms he'll think about his chest and if he thinks about his chest he'll think about his heart and if he thinks about his heart he'll - 

"The horse is a surprise," Holster cuts in, his flat, sarcastic tone breaking through Ransom's increasingly panicked thoughts. Ransom laughs, just a soft burst of air, but it's real, and for their present circumstances, that's almost a miracle. Then again, Holster always makes him laugh. 

They're quiet for a long moment, the waves and the horse's heavy sighs filling the background with a steady stream of white noise. He can feel Holster breathing; it's second nature to sync their breaths so they move together. When Ransom closes his eyes and focuses he can almost convince himself they're safe. 

Being with Holster always feels safe, even though they're in danger more often than not. 

"Rans?" Holster murmurs, deep voice soft and raspy. It's amazing how one syllable can fill Ransom's chest with warmth and joy and make him feel like a lifeboat is home. He hums, just a quick up-down sound so Holster knows he's listening. "If I do something, will you promise not to hate me?" Holster's voice is small, unsure. Holster's voice isn't ever small and unsure. It sets Ransom on edge, tension creeping up between his shoulder blades. 

"Only if it's not something stupid, like abandoning ship." Ransom replies honestly. He doesn't know what he'll do if Holster gets any ideas about sacrificing himself. Holster's quiet for a moment. Ransom can feel his muscles shift as he tips his head to side the way he always does when he's considering his options. Ransom half expects him to say We can make a play out of this -  

"It might be stupid," is what Holster says instead. At least he's being honest. There's another stretch of silence.

"But it might not be?" Ransom says, because he knows Holster is thinking it. He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't. Holster nods, hair brushing against the back of Ransom's neck. it's just a wisp of contact, but it fortifies Ransom's nerves. He trusts Holster. It's the one constant in his life besides inconsistency. For the first time in a long while he isn't sure what Holster's going to say or do, but he trusts him enough to sigh, press back against Holster's shoulder, and say,  "Okay, do it."

It's quiet for a moment, which Ransom expects, but then Holster twists around, which he doesn't. He reaches over Ransom, propping himself up with a hand by his hip, the other hovering between them for a long moment before it settles, feather light, on Ransom's cheek. Holster leans in and - fuck, it's happening, it's happening, Ransom's only fantasized about this a million times and sure, not a single one of those fantasies came anywhere close to their current situation but Ransom can't even care because the man he's been in love with for years is about to - scratch that, he's kissing Ransom so, so sweetly, and it's somehow exactly how Ransom imagined it. Holster is big and loud and obnoxious but he's always been quiet and soft and gentle when Ransom needs it and right now he needs it more than ever. 

Holster tilts his head, slotting their lips together just so, and Ransom's pretty sure he stops breathing when he nibbles on Ransom's bottom lip. Ransom always knew it would be good, if it ever happened, but he didn't expect it to build the way it does. Neither of them pulls away, neither of them backs down. They surge together, pressing closer and closer as the kiss grows deeper and deeper. Ransom tugs on Holster's shirt, his hips, his hair, turning him around and pulling him down until Holster's entire body weight is pressing down on him and his tongue is behind Ransom's teeth. 

Ransom's not proud of the sound he makes when Holster suddenly pulls away with a ragged gasp. It's a groan that tapers into a whine - or maybe it's a keen? What's a keening sound, anyway? He needs to kiss Holster some more, do some more research to see if either of them makes it, but when he tries to pull Holster back down he doesn't come. His cheeks are red, thick eyebrows drawn together, swollen lips turned down in a frown. Ransom can’t bring himself to look away. They're both breathing hard, one chest rising when the other falls. When he pulls Holster again he falls forward, but he tucks his face under Ransom's chin. 

"We can't do this," Holster gasps, the words muffled against Ransom's skin. He's holding onto Ransom so tightly, hands trembling, but he makes no effort to move away or untangle their legs. "We're going to die, we - " 

"Adam," Ransom breathes. He cups his partner's face in his shaking hands. Holster tilts his head, pressing a kiss to his wrist, his thumb, his palm. Ransom's wanted this for so long and it might be the worst possible timing but he's not going to look a gift horse (or the real horse directly to their left) in the mouth. He pulls Holster closer and presses their foreheads together. "If we're going to die, we can do whatever we want. And I've wanted you forever." 

"Me too," Holster gasps, and the next time he kisses Ransom, deep and full and somehow perfect, he doesn't stop.

Ransom's not sure how long they kiss before he pulls back to catch his breath, his head hitting the bottom of the lifeboat with a quiet thunk. Holster's above him, gorgeous and flushed and real. Ransom's imagined this a million times and there might be a hoof digging into his back and Holster's cheeks are hollow from hunger and his face might just be red from the sun but he's staring down at Ransom with so much love, eyes as clear and blue as the still sky above him and - 

The sky is still. 

"Holtzy," Ransom rasps, hands scrambling over his partner's back. He thumps over Holster's ribs, legs jerking as he jolts upward. "Look - the sky, Holster, look." He pleads, desperately trying to untangle their limbs so he can see over the edge of the boat. Holster tips back, over, narrowly avoiding a knee to the stomach, twists, stands, sputters, and falls, almost kicking Ransom in the face when he topples over the edge of the boat, ass over teakettle, knees still hooked over the lip of the lifeboat. Ransom scrambles up and launches himself over the side of the boat to follow him (he's followed Holster into gambling dens and poorly constructed get-rich-quick schemes and jail cells and stunningly intricate escape plans and hungry nights and desperate winters and if he's honest with himself, if he's really, truly completely transparent then he knows he'll follow Holster anywhere and, well, that's how he ended up on the road to a mythical treasure in a lifeboat with a horse) and he lands face first on wet, solid sand. 

"Fuck," Holster groans, somewhere to Ransom's left. There's a soft pressure between Ransom's shoulder blades as Holster pats him once, twice, then smooths his hand down his back in a quick once-over. "You okay?" "Yeph - fhuck," Ransom spits out a mouthful of wet sand. "Yeah. You?" He asks, and Holster pats him again, humming a quick affirmation. Ransom opens his eyes, and all he can see is muted shades of graygreenbrownredtan overlapping over a vast, open space dotted with mossy rocks and low, scrubby plants.

It looks desolate, and unwelcoming, and foreign, and Ransom has never been happier to see rocks in his entire goddamn life. 

The boat creaks as the horse stands. He huffs, blowing a quick burst of air through his nose, and whinnies softly. Ransom rolls, tearing his eyes away from the tundra to confirm he makes it out of the lifeboat, then continues rolling until the horizon shifts and all he can see is Holster and the vast, dark ocean behind him. 

Holster's knees are still hooked over the edge of the lifeboat and his arm is still stretched out towards Ransom, fingers now curled into the fabric of his ragged shirt. Ransom can feel the warmth of his knuckles on his stomach through the thin material. His other arm is flopped on the sand, his entire palm enveloped by the wet sand, fingers digging deeper into the earth. Holster likes to anchor himself like this: one hand on Ransom, the other on something solid and safe and his.

The earth is solid. The tundra is safe. And Ransom is his. 

Ransom scoots closer to curl around him. "We need water." He murmurs against Holster's shoulder. "Firewood. Food. Shelter." Holster opens his eyes, gaze sweeping over Ransom's face. "Are we still...?" Holster trails off, but his eyes settle on Ransom's lips. The reality of the situation is still grim. They're not trapped anymore, but they're in a new place with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a disgruntled stallion who's quite frankly an asshole, but for the first time in days they have hope, and while they've always had each other, now they have each other. 

"Hell yeah," Ransom says, and he kisses Holster's smile until the horse starts munching on the back of his shirt. 

Like I said, he's an asshole. 

[go-forth-and-live]

“I don't cuddle." The tongue is a jagged thing, full of inconsistencies blooming after the rain. Despite the gruff tone, Zoro doesn't move to push Hazel away as he plasters himself against his side, vying for body warmth as they huddle around the bonfire. Still soaking wet from the storm they failed to outrun, Zoro shifts more of the blanket over the prince—not to make so bold as throwing his arm over him, but it's a near thing as he envelops Hazel's cold hands in his larger, warmer ones.

Morning after starters || Accepting!

“Th-th...” he stammers through chattering teeth, too cold to even blush properly at the inelegance of the sound. Hazel clenches his jaw, and tries again. “This ain’t--c-cuddlin’. This is--bein’ p-practical.” And it is, Hazel knows that it is. He thought it through completely before shifting over to join Mr. Zoro under the blanket. There’s surely something to be said of pride and decorum, of course, and as the rightful king Hazel will not discard those qualities even out here on the road. Still, they’re both soaked to the bone, and the night air is cold, even with the blankets and the fire. One of them catching ill is a real possibility, and that is--most assuredly not ideal, this far out in the wilderness. 

He can’t retake his throne if he dies of pneumonia in the woods. And Mr. Zoro--seems fine, frankly, but these things can be deceiving, and he can’t watch Hazel’s back if he gets sick as well. This, sharing the body heat they do have between them, is a necessary inconvenience towards self-preservation. It’s as simple as that, really. And Mr. Zoro’s hands are...

... still so warm, around his own. His fingers, having grown numb and trembling with the cold, ache with the sudden heat, and he can’t suppress a slight flinch. Yet it’s not--unpleasant. He thinks Mr. Zoro must have a heater inside of him, or maybe just some sort of raw molten core like the one at the center of the earth. Something that keeps him this... inexplicably warm, all the time. 

He leans his head on Mr. Zoro’s shoulder, and with one slow exhale, he lets his eyes close. He can feel the rabbit-quick pulse of his heartbeat in his hands as the feeling returns to them. Hazel wonders if Mr. Zoro can feel it too. 

“... Thanks.” His tone is a little softer now, a little calmer, now that the chill is draining from the rest of him as well. “For settin’ the fire. It--it helps.” 

[danddymaro]

On a Rainy day | Bucky Barnes x reader

She finds him drenched with rain, just knowing she couldn’t leave him behind.

FIxed // Edited.

Word Count: 2647

Italics are a person's thoughts ' sample.'

On a rainy day

  The sound of clapping thunder echoed throughout the heavens, ringing loudly in her ears as well, bringing forth soft shivers that coursed down her spine at the roaring noise. 

As a child, the sound had brought her terrors, but now she only felt the slight reminiscence as an effect; An aftershake and nothing more.

Just barely creeping past the dry safety beneath the coverage under the classic, black umbrella, her empty hand sneaked out to feel the rain.

The cool droplets that landed on her outstretched hand felt relaxing and made her smile daintily as the chilly freshness of the wet touch felt good against her warm palm. 

Hearing sounds of splashes and squealing, she then began to take notice of the rest of the world around her, and as she looked about, she saw countless people struggling to find safety from the falling crystalline droplets. 

Admittedly, they reminded her of a frenzied colony of ants, scattering and running in all directions after someone disturbed their calculatedly built dirt homes, and she found a frail amusement at the sight.

  As her eyes carried on from viewing the fleeting people with interest, they soon stopped on a sole figure. 

She had noticed that all but one person remained concerned by the rainfall. 

He didn't bother to run off for safety, or even look up at the murky skies and heavy clouds in the same wonder as she had. Instead, he remained motionless and still, caught beneath the downpour and stationed under a thin, young tree. 

Curiously, she watched him sit alone as he was accompanied by no other soul at his side. He was paid no heed by anyone but herself, almost like he was an invisible entity to the rest of the world, living between the spaces of reality for everyone else. 

She could see why he wasn't their concern, because he probably wasn't a priority to others as they focused more on scattering away to safety.

 In fact, she too should have been amongst the crowd to find shelter. She should have also been urged to make her way home, or at least make her way into a building, but she couldn't walk past him, especially not after she had caught sight of him.

There was a great ' should be ' that had been taken into consideration and yet, she stayed, keeping her same glance towards the lonesome man because, in all honesty, she couldn't pretend he didn't exist.

Beneath what little coverage the young tree gave him, he remained isolated from the world with only himself and his thoughts, and often, she wondered just how much burden weighed over his presently slumped shoulders when all he did was remain silent, mainly keeping to himself like a lone wolf. 

When she'd catch sight of him she would wonder just what lay beyond the depths of those pretty, yet melancholic blue eyes.

What made him sit alone for so long?

What made that heart-wrenching look in those lovely hues come forth like heavy tidal waves?

- What did he keep quiet?

 As for now, the beautiful drops were set downcast, hidden beneath a curtain of dampened hair. They weren't visible to her, and yet, she already knew the dull look that married them was present because it had been engraved in her memory now, causing ripples in her heart at the recollection.

  Soon, not a single part of him was untouched by the outdoor showers. Easily slipping past the futile coverage of the adolescent sapling, showers of drizzle stained his clothes and riddled them with dark, little spots until the fabrics of his attire became doused in cool precipitation. 

His long, dark hair was also soaked, beginning to stick to the sides of his face like a second skin. 

Overall, he seemed fully crestfallen as little by little he became drenched with earthy tears making the sight of him be one that should be seen through a black and white filter, and displayed as a piece of art for the world to question; Showcased for the population to ask the questions she did every day.

They would ask what made him sit alone for so long.

They'd wonder if there was heavier rainfall deep within his being, one that made the physical downpour happening in the real world seem trivial at best.

The rest of the onlookers would wonder why he was so lonesome? But most of all, ask;

Who is that man? 

- Not his name, but his story. 

  A magnetic force far greater than her drew her to him, compelling her to come near, so slowly she approached him, inching little by little towards the solitary soldier, all while anxiously clutching her umbrella with her slightly raised right arm. 

She hadn't a clue as to what she would say, what excuse to give him for her intrusion of his bubble of isolation. 

The strange force controlling her moved her forward, all without a true reason or explanation, causing her body to react quicker than she could process her reasoning. 

The controlling power made her legs move as she glued her (e/c) colored eyes to him fiercely, focusing on nothing but the old soul.

Within a short minute or two, she found herself near him, just at his side, and slowly, she knelt to him, holding the spread-out umbrella above him too, because in truth she had no trouble in sharing, especially when it was with him. 

It had taken her a while to realize how little she minded, much more, that she had been doing such a thing in the first place.

In the end, everything that had been hers was easily at his use and it wasn't because that's the way she had decided it, but rather, it was just as the universe told her to do.

  As she knelt beside him she said nothing, remaining silent without saying a single word of address to the man because she had quickly found out that he was a silent person, and more likely to respond in short words, sometimes with only a single sound of address, and truthfully, nothing more was needed. 

She didn't mind his quietness, because to her, silence spoke more than a million words could, moreover, she believed in actions themselves. 

In her case, she hadn't dared to speak out loud of her affections, nor utter the concerns she felt for him, instead, she found simple gestures that let those emotions be known. 

Despite not knowing the words to speak in regards to the growing endearment she had developed for him, she had found small actions that relieved her heart’s plea to touch him in any sort of way it could.

 Finally acknowledging her and breaking out of his lonesome thoughts, he looked up at her with a lackluster dullness in his eyes, and as she expected he said nothing in return. 

Nonetheless, she gave him a smile in return, offering her own type of greeting and hoping that the simple, quiet greeting was enough for him.

At certain moments he'd offered her back what would constitute as a smile. It was typically a very subtle uplift of the corners of his lips, just enough to note a change in his expression.

It wasn't much to begin with, but the expression caused her heart to grow light because the expression let her know that he was capable of a look beside pained sorrow. 

His soft smile gave her the hope that one day the sullen look he formed so frequently would only be a distant memory.

He shifted slightly, leaving more space for her to invade, and with gratitude, she took the golden opportunity to come closer. With an enthusiasm that was emphasized with a light dust of pink to her cheeks, she found herself right at his side, just barely touching shoulders with him. 

Upon her movements and formed expression of elatedness, the ends of his mouth slowly inched upwards into a delicate show of warmth and fondness from his own part.

He had produced another smile, one that was even more striking than the last one he'd gifted her, and perhaps it was just her, but it seemed as though with each time he showed the world that little expression, he showcased a more improved version. 

It was almost like he was perfecting it with every attempt and while his smile was inconsistent and gradually growing brighter, what was unchanging was that there was always a fluttering at her core, making her feel delightfully lighthearted and fuzzy. 

It was a feeling that with every passing moment she stayed by him, spread over her body further.

 She did nothing but sit with him, barely touching shoulders while sharing the small space.

By then, it was just the two of them surrounded by scarcely falling rain and nothing more than the descending precipitation making commotion.

The streets were empty and had been for a while, as were the sidewalks and park, making her feel like she was the only person that existed beside him.

‘A world with just Bucky and me?’ she thought with a shy smile, playing with the idea of being huddled up with him for a bit longer, but as she ventured more into the idea, a touch of ice brought her back to reality. 

As the cool metal touched her hand, it roused a little tingle down her spine, immediately forcing a soft gasp from her, and when she realized what had grazed over her skin, her cheeks brightly glowed like ripe tomatoes on early harvest.

His metallic hand had just barely touched her curled fingers, making her eyes quickly shoot over to his. 

Noticing how close his face had come to her, to the point of practically sharing the same breath for a few short seconds, she stayed frozen in surprise. 

He didn't make a move to retreat, nor go closer to her, making her heart grow anxious with wait until he took the same artificial hand, running it along the side of her face with a sole finger picking at fallen strands, gently tucking them behind her heated ears.

He eyed the rosy color on her cheeks with amusement, then decided to speak, “Your glowing, “ he said softly, accompanied by a short chuckle, making her stilled heart gear up into a full jumpstart.

“ It’s cute,” he added, using his other hand to take a hold of the umbrella's holder, taking possession of it and beginning to stand at his full height.

She remained kneeling, dumbly watching him until he pulled her up with him by taking her hand. 

As soon as she had risen to her feet, he wrapped an arm around her waist, easily bringing her close to him, and with the new position, she was perfectly safe from the remaining downpour with the close, unexpected snuggle. 

“I think it’s about time we go back... mind if we go together? “ he offered her, to which she couldn't oppose. 

She loved being held within his big, strong arms, so as they made their way back home to the avenger’s facility, she couldn't have felt more right, almost as though she was already at home to begin with.

Halfway through the trip, her eyes lead up to the earth’s atmosphere where high up above her was a small split in the sky, and wedged right in between the large, dark clouds was a seep of bright light shining through.

 The sun softly beamed down, making its existence known to the world, something he too noted. 

Far beyond the gloomy skies, laid the sun in wait, making her eyes glow with tenderness,

‘There is something beyond those dark skies, something warm and sunny… and if it’s anything as warm as his body is next to mine… I want it to last forever,’ She thought with budding hope.

She was beaming with joy, having it written over her face, and then without a single thought, she voiced her musing,

“The sun will come out eventually,” She said optimistically in an almost too soft tone as she stayed looking up at the yet-to-clear sky, and at the sight, he snickered. 

Looking down at the gentle smile playing over her lips, he felt more warmness spread through his own body, and he wondered how she did that.

- How did she always make even the most somber day fill with color and light?

   Once again his gaze drifted up towards the dull sky, remaining there before something strange overcame him, starting right at the pit of his stomach and traveling up to his throat and out his mouth.

He let come forth a strong belly laugh, astonished at the world, but more importantly, awestruck by her. 

When she heard his booming sound of amusement, she quickly looked up at him, mesmerized by the obvious glow in his features before the same feeling hit her.

She then giggled, accompanying him in his amusement, forgetting about everything else in the world. 

All the concerns she had felt before were irrelevant and seemed to be a thing of the distant past as the moment of bliss felt everlasting.

In truth, she didn't know why it was funny, or why he had even burst with amusement to begin with. 

Heck, she didn't know why she was laughing herself. 

She only understood that something about the sound of his voice making such a rare and beautiful sound caused her to float up to cloud nine.

 They probably looked like a couple of idiots laughing at no practical reason whatsoever. 

Then, there was the fact that he was completely drenched, yet under an umbrella while the rain was already letting up. Anyone else would wonder what difference it made now to stand under the coverage, not understanding the true beauty of it. 

As for her, he couldn't emphasize how perfect she looked, the woman being practically flawless, yet at his side.

 She hadn't made a peep, or protest at having a man that was practically soaked through the bone hold her little body so close. She didn't seem bothered by it in the least bit, and yet again he thought of all her perfection. 

He thought of all that made her simply amazing down to something as simple as sharing her plain umbrella.

‘ The sun will come out eventually, right?’ He asked himself, dying down to a small snort. 

' No... I think it already has,’  he added, still entranced by every single detail of her lovely face as it settled down from her joyous giggling.

  He had found her comment to be so stupidly fitting that it was almost cheesy, but he couldn't be bothered by it. 

He couldn't tell if she was being metaphorical with her almost silent words, but it was not like it mattered anyway. He didn’t need the motivation or push because he wasn't in need of saving anymore. 

That part of him had been lived through and conquered, and he was certain of it.

Instead, there was something else that made him stay awake now, invading his every thought, and she had a name,

A beautiful name.

- (f/n) (l/n).

 It had been just the two of them huddled together beneath a single umbrella and on a straight path home. 

The streets were still empty, making him feel like she was the only person that existed right there at his side. 

With the expression of jovial hope, she looked straightforward, making him want to continue towards the same path and feed off of the warm delights she brought him.

The sun was surely out, shining brightly over his once dark skies, but instead of it overlooking the world with its glory, it had manifested into a single person, right at his side and at his fingertips. 

He could touch this sun, feel its warmth and enjoy it wholeheartedly, and god, did he love her.

[thelionshoarde]

If you still need prompts: Suzu and Shirayuki, the need for warmth and good company, and the mysterious disappearance of a bottle of wine?

Iiii got sick this last week and fell behind so this was rushed and probably shoddy, D: please forgive the errors and inconsistent characterization??

12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS PROMPT-A-THON, DAY 4

Or you can read it here on ao3 if you prefer!

Shirayuki escaped through the balcony door, squeezing her way through the throng of merry-makers and out, gasping, into the sudden dark and quiet and empty space of a frozen night.

Icicles glittered in the dim glow of lanterns, of the stars, of the distant city lights. Relieved to be alone, Shirayuki moved toward the balustrade. Her breath clouded the air, and though the festive gown she wore was ill-suited to winter weather, the heat that flushed her from the crowded ballroom at Wilant Castle kept her from shivering.

A familiar, lethargic voice said, “I’ll have you know I claimed this balcony right from the get go. If you want sanctuary, it’s going to cost you.”

Startled, Shirayuki turned sharply to the side. Benches were set up along the wall, tucked between frosted topiary and hidden largely in shadow. Suzu looked out at her, sprawled comfortably in what looked like Obi’s new, velvet cape. He also appeared to have brought his work satchel with him, the bag slumped beneath his booted feet, oddly shaped and bulging in places.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked. “It’s nearly time for the -- the kissing, you know. I thought you wouldn’t want to miss out on that.”

Suzu waved a lazy hand, gloved in expensive kid skin. If Shirayuki remembered correctly Obi had taken him out shopping for the event, insisting that Suzu had to show up at Wilant Castle in something nicer than his work attire.

It seemed strange, for a moment; Suzu across from her in the cold, as if they were still pulling long hours at Lata’s and had stepped outside for a short break, talking idly and half-asleep as had been their habit, cooling off from the intense heat of their research. Over a year since then, Shirayuki realized with a start.

With their individual workloads at the Pharmacy, with Suzuri and Ryuu and Obi always about, it had been easy to fall back into familiar patterns. Ones where Shirayuki rarely saw Suzu alone. Her heart clenched, an uncomfortable burn, as she realized how much she missed it. Shirayuki had enjoyed his company, and it wasn’t until now she understood that, for some reason, Suzu in a crowd was never quite the same as Suzu alone.

“You look weird,” Suzu accused, rather than answer. “Like a -- a Lady.”

Then again, perhaps absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

“Sorry?” she asked, mouth pursed with irritation, “Should I go inside? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Eh? Oh, no,” Suzu said, sounding soft and distant, distracted. Shirayuki always forgot the oddity of him -- how he could give off such an air of apathy, and yet have the most direct, attentive gaze -- until his focus caught on her. “I was getting bored anyway.”

“Well,” Shirayuki smiled, crooked and uncertain. “Shall I sit, then?”

Suzu snuggled more firmly beneath Obi’s purloined cape, the crushed, royal blue velvet dark against his pale hair, long enough now to curl against his broad shoulders. “Sure,” he said, tilting his head to the empty stretch of bench beside him. “But I hope you brought your own blanket, I’m not sharing.”

* * *

A brief tugging war later, Shirayuki had the cape pulled over her front, huddled against Suzu in the bitter cold. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to eat my spoils as well,” Suzu sighed, reaching down to his satchel.

“Your -- your spoils?”

“Mm,” Suzu agreed, coming back up with two goblets full of bite sized cubes of cheese and little mince meat pies. Laughing, Shirayuki accepted the prize, flavors bursting against her tongue, the metal goblet biting through her thin silk gloves, Suzu muttering outrageous commentary about the looks he’d received as he piled his goblets high with appetizers.

* * *

“What about you? Not going to go on a kissing spree?”

Shirayuki felt the prickle of a blush in her cheeks, and kept her gaze on the distant stars. She had thought this would be the same as it had been in the past -- when she and Suzu had bowed their heads nearly touching over the olin maris seeds, the glittering crystals, and the heat, murmuring conjectures and frustrated oaths, close enough their breath mingled -- but it wasn’t.

It felt strange and new. Maybe it was because instead of needing the chill air to cool off, they were curled together for warmth. Or the way Shirayuki caught Suzu staring at her, only to have him look away a second too slow not to be obvious about it. Or perhaps it was because she knew what Yuzuri would say -- that dinner beneath the stars, the two of them alone, sounded like a date.

It wasn’t a date. And it was completely normal for them to be talking about kissing. It was Longest Night, after all.

“No, I --”

“Saving all your kisses for a special someone?”

“No,” Shirayuki protested, blush intensifying. “It’s only --”

“Oh.” Despairing, Shirayuki closed her eyes on the stars and tilted her head back against the stone as Suzu interrupted again. “I see. You’ve never been kissed?”

The blush flamed, burning her. “No!” she cried, shifting so she could glare at her fellow pharmacist. “I’ve -- I’ve been kissed! But I only -- well.” What dignity did she even have, here, faced with Suzu’s placid interrogation? For a moment she wished she could scoop up a palmful of snow and throw it in his face. “I’ve only been kissed by one person,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’m quite capable of -- of going around and kissing dozens, even if it is a tradition.”

The North was weird, she had long decided. Kissing wasn’t meant to be a group activity -- right? Nettled, she subsided, leaning back against the wall, head tilted back once more to take in the unfeeling, soothing sky. Only after she settled did she freeze, realizing that her shoulder was pressed to Suzu’s, that her thigh ran along the length of his.

“Who was it?”

Oh! Really. Even for Suzu, that seemed too prying. “None of your business,” she said, tone tart. Beneath the cloak she folded her arms, trying not to pay attention to the solid muscle of Suzu’s arm, a strength that usually went unnoticed.

“Hm, I’ll guess, then. Garrack?”

“That’s your fantasy,” Shirayuki claimed, startled into laughter.

Suzu hummed, sounding pleased. “That should be everybody’s fantasy. Okay, so not Garrak. Shidan?”

“Now you’re just being silly,” Shirayuki snorted, rolling her eyes.

For a moment she thought he was going to let it go. That he had gotten bored, or distracted, or simply satisfied his urge to -- to tease her. But then he asked, voice strange, “Obi, then.”

“W-what? No,” she said, brows furrowing. “Not Obi. It --”

Honestly, she may as well give in. Suzu was obsessive when he chose, and for some strange, unfathomable reason, he had chosen to obsess over this topic. Sighing, she admitted, “Zen. Zen’s the only person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Zen. The Second Prince of Clarines, Zen?”

“That would be the one,” Shirayuki muttered, plucking at the cape. The noise from within the ballroom lifted, loud with cheers, before subsiding back into a gentler, ambient noise of controlled, festive chaos. Maybe she should go back in, but --

She didn’t really want to.

“Huh,” said Suzu. “Well, can’t say I blame you. If he’s as pretty as his brother I wouldn’t say no to a kiss either.”

Shirayuki tucked the cape over her nose, groaning.

* * *

“Well, I think it’s time for drinking,” Suzu decided. “You wipe out the goblets, Shirayuki. I’ll get the wine.”

“The -- how much do you have in there, Suzu! Goodness.”

The cape fell from Shirayuki’s shoulders as Suzu leaned forward, and she shivered, but took advantage of the give to wipe clean the interior of both goblets. “Not much, really,” Suzu said, voice muffled. He grunted, tugging, and then came back upright abruptly, his hair a silvery sweep, like fine snow, that brushed against Shirayuki’s cheek. “Just enough for a quality evening, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Shirayuki allowed, as Suzu worked the cork out of the bottle. It wasn’t one of the sparkling bottles served by the waiters inside, either, it was cloudy, a little dusty, a wax seal on one corner of the peeling label. Shirayuki felt realization dawn on her, slow and tinged with horror, but mostly amazement.

“Is that -- oh, oh my. Obi got in so much trouble for this!”

The bottle in Suzu’s hand was a very expensive wine that had been, allegedly, purloined from Lata’s house. Obi had been accused, Lata muttering indignantly that he knew Obi wasn’t a real knight. Suzu hummed, but Shirayuki recognized the smug amusement that deepened the corners of his mouth, an almost smile, as he said, “Care for a drink, Miss Court Pharmacist? It’d be a pity to let Obi’s theft go to waste.”

“Might as well,” Shirayuki said, trying to keep the laugh from her voice, and failing.

* * *

With the wine, a full belly, and company that Shirayuki found entirely too pleasing, she was warm despite the sharpness of the air stinging her nose. “I really am surprised you’re not inside,” she admitted, sipping at her second glass of wine. “Rubbing elbows with moneyed Lords and Ladies, and the like.”

“Mm, money would be nice,” Suzu sighed, sounding dreamy. “Think of all the research I could get done if I could only charm one of these rich nobles into funding me? Do you think I could convince Duchess Manaka to make me her sidepiece? She can lavish me in rewards for being so pretty.”

Shirayuki snorted. “I think I would have better luck with that.”

“Oh?” Suzu blinked at her. “Then perhaps I could be your sidepiece, and you can be Duchess Manaka’s. Share the wealth, Miss Court Pharmacist.”

Coloring slightly, Shirayuki looked away, prim. “Isn’t it time you stopped calling me that? We’ve been at Lyrias for two years now, you know.”

“I did notice,” Suzu admitted, voice dry. “But --”

The hesitation was enough to have Shirayuki turning back. Suzu wasn’t one for second guessing his words.

“Weren’t you planning on leaving us all behind and heading to Wilant to be Court Pharmacist?” There was a curious tilt to Suzu’s mouth, one Shirayuki didn’t know how to read.

“It’s not as though it’s far,” she whispered. “It’s not as though --”

“You’ll forget us, left behind amidst the dusty research shelves. Moving on to better, grander things.”

The way he said it -- a brittle quality hidden behind airy distance -- had Shirayuki’s heart hammering in her chest. Unease, or excitement; irritation and fondness. “I won’t,” she declared, catching Suzu’s gaze and holding it. “I would never. I cherish all of you too much. We’ve been through too much. You’ll always be my precious friends.”

“Friends,” Suzu murmured, head tilting toward her curiously. “I’m not your friend, Shirayuki.”

“I...what?”

Suzu took her goblet and his and set it on the ground at their feet, the cape rustling. Shirayuki caught the edge of it before it could quite escape and gripped it, hard, confused. She had thought -- but of course they were friends. How could he say something like that? Even Suzu couldn’t be so --

When Suzu turned back toward her, he was entirely too close, leaning over her in a way that pressed her back against the wall, that blocked the starry sky and seemed to muffle the sounds of the party carrying on inside. Hesitant, he tapped his fingers against her jaw, before withdrawing his hand.

“I don’t think,” he reasoned out of nowhere, “that kissing is that big of a deal.”

“What,” Shirayuki exhaled, starting to get annoyed, “is going on? What do you mean we’re not friends? I thought --”

“You should let me kiss you,” Suzu interjected.

It certainly interrupted Shirayuki’s irritation, her brain suddenly as still as the world in winter, quiet and frozen. He -- kissing. He wanted --

“I thought I looked -- weird,” Shirayuki whispered, oddly breathless. This close Suzu’s eyes were nearly too much, clear and bright as the moon on snow, staring at her as if he might take her apart just to see how she worked.

“I only meant,” he murmured, leaning closer. His gloved hand returned, more confident this time; firm, drawing her in. “That I prefer you as you usually are.”

“Oh.”

“Back to the kissing,” Suzu said, brows arching hopefully. “It really is a shame you’ve only been kissed by a prince. How are you to know what you like if your sample size is only that? We should rectify it. For science.”

Shirayuki’s breath was coming faster, little stuttering inhales and exhales. Suzu’s thigh was firm against hers beneath the cloak, a source of sizzling heat. “For -- ah, science?”

“Sure,” he said. “If you want it to be.”

She managed, just barely, to ask: “You would kiss someone who isn’t your friend?”

“I’d kiss anybody,” Suzu admitted. “And it’s -- you’re misunderstanding. I don’t feel about you the same way I feel about Yuzuri, or Obi. I don’t feel friendly with you.”

Licking her lips, Shirayuki felt hot, nervous. “Then... how do you feel? With me?”

An expression shifted across Suzu’s face, a tightness, a glimmer of sharp longing, that Shirayuki barely knew to recognize. But she did, and it caught her breath in her chest, made her hands tremble where they were clenched in velvet. Oh, she thought. So that’s what it means. That’s what I’ve been feeling.

“Lots of things,” Suzu said, lips brushing just barely against Shirayuki’s. “Awful, annoying, incessant things. I’m going to kiss you now, okay? For science.”

“Sure,” Shirayuki whispered. “If you want it to be. But you can -- you, uh --”

“Mm,” Suzu’s hand slid back into her hair, and her eyes fluttered shut. “I can what?”

How was he so obtuse, she wondered, but she couldn’t get angry. It wasn’t as though she had done much better. Words felt too awkward, her emotions spinning, wild, as everything she had thought she understood revealed new meaning. As Suzu gained new meaning. And --

Annoyed at her own idiocy, Shirayuki opened her eyes, angled her head, and kissed him in the moonlight, in the cold and the dark, while the crowds inside danced and cheered, passed kisses like favors amongst the throngs. Suzu kissed her like a question, a curious, hungry glide of lips and tongue, a nip of teeth; and he kissed her like an answer, a humming moan as he pressed into her, the greedy clench of his fingers tangled in her hair.

Even through their finery she could feel his heart beat fit to burst from his chest, matching the erratic, hungry, startled pace of her own.

When he pulled back, dragging in air, his eyes searched hers, brows quirking. “In case you’re still confused: I’m out here because the only one I want to kiss anymore is you, you know.”

“Yes,” Shirayuki gasped, flushed and embarrassed, confused but pleased. “I -- sort of gathered. Uhm. Shall we -- ah, would you like --”

“Yep,” Suzu agreed, and dipped down to kiss her again.

[namira2006]

The sun set slowly over Edinburgh. There was little sunlight on this day, and what remained desperately tugged itself up onto the buildings, framing the city in a struggling golden light. Clouds had drawn tightly overhead, huddling together for warmth. ‘Twould be a cold, misty night.

In place of where the sun’s last gasps had dappled the streets, neon signs of pizza hut, tesco and sainsbury’s vacuously arose. Look at our flickering LED lights! Oh, do come in! The Wi-Fi is free! Incredible how one could be so simultaneously engulfed in history and so intent on disconnecting from it.

On this fucking freezing winter’s eve, Agnyss had a show in Old Town. She felt like a farce, waltzing around Edinburgh’s tourist hub like she belonged there. The sturdy heels of her winklepickers did make an absurdly satisfying clack on the cobblestones. Inconsistencies in the cobblestone setting made her bulging backpack jolt about on her back like she’d trapped some small, angry animal inside it. Her fingertips were numb and tinged rose with the eve’s chill, yet she could not contain her small smile to herself as she thought about the show she had planned.

Tonight she was performing a carefully choreographed lip sync to ‘Rogue Heart’ from the ‘Dragon Age 2’ soundtrack. Not quite the crowd-pleaser that her rendition of the Skyrim theme was, nor the tear-jerker that was her contemporary dance routine to the ‘The Bridge of Khazad Dum’, but she had no doubt that this one would entertain whatever five or so louts inhabited Misty’s Pub tonight. Normally she performed so late that any remaining patrons had sunk deep into alcoholic delusion and didn’t give a toss what she was doing on stage. Except for whenever Keith and his band of merry twinks turned up and heckled her. It wasn’t exactly her fault the pub never put on a DJ and was invested in local talent! Who was she to turn down such a glittering opportunity to grow as a performer. Excitement fuelled her to keep clack-ing on the cobblestone, raindrops coating her marvellous cloak.

While there was, pretty much nothing, as special as the warmth in her heart for breath-taking soundtracks from fantasy video games, Agnyss did have a special addition for her performance tonight. While her parents had never allowed her any contact with her extended family, she’d known the women on her father’s side were from a long line of witches. She’d given up believing in magic at all since all her attempts had previously failed, but in performance, it was about the illusion of power. Where conveying a believable rendition of magic is as salient as the idea of magic.

Incorporating parts of spells she’d found would enhance her wizardry essence! Coax the revellers into seeing power within her!

[humming-fly]

Haha thanks it’s good to be back! And wow you guys are fast to catch that I’m touched :D

But yeah long story short I went canyoneering for the first time and we got stuck in the canyon for a couple hours in the dark due to unforeseen circumstances.

As for the long story, canyoneering, if you’ve never heard of it, is a sport where you repel down a canyon wall and then hike out. For some context, here is Canyon of Cold that we repelled down - note the water in the lower left corner, and the snow at the base of the canyon, these become important later on:

So basically there are two repels here, one from the lefthand side of the canyon down, and then another to the actual base of the canyon where you can then walk out. There were a total of 6 of us repelling, and for me and one other girl this was our first time canyoneering ever. 

Because it was our first time ever and my friends didn’t want to pull up a bunch of mangled body parts from the floor of the canyon, they went ahead and asked the park ranger which canyon would be good for people that had never touched climbing rope before. He suggested the Jolly Jug canyon, which he described as “short”, “dry”, and “lame”. Spoiler alert: this canyon was approximately none of these things.

But since we didn’t know this and actually trusted the park ranger, we went ahead and started our repel. Here is one of my friends repelling down into a gaping maw of death:

Amazingly, this first repel went great and all 6 of us got to the bottom with no issues. (I may have been chanting “don’t look down” the whole time but overall it was fine). Here is the view from the bottom of the canyon:

And here was the first waterfall again in a terribly overexposed photo:

This is where we noticed our first major problem, namely the canyon that was supposed to be completely dry was as a matter of fact the exact opposite of that. Since we had managed to avoid the first waterfall we thought we could avoid the second as well, since y��know, the ranger had said it was fucking dry. But lo and behold, the second repel was not only in the waterfall, but also so technical you had to wade in and out of potholes of water, navigate a number of overhangs over inconsistent canyon walls, and jump over no less than two fallen trees wedged in this tiny little slot canyon which had an average width of 3-6 feet. What this meant is we were going to get very wet. In snowmelt. In a canyon that was supposed to be both “dry” and “lame”.

As a reminder, this was my second ever repel and instead of being rated A-III, which is dry and steep, my more experienced friends rated it as C-IV, which means heavy water flow and technical as all hell. Basically in addition to not falling to my death, I now had to worry about not drowning too. Piece of cake.

(Also this was the point I put my phone in a drybag (which we were lucky to have because again, it was supposed to be FUCKING DRY) which unfortunately means I didn’t take any more pictures, so you’ll just have to imagine when I tell you how fucking crazy this canyon was.)

So we send our most experienced member down and after like 10 minutes of her disappearing from view she finally pops out and signals we can come down. I ended up going third, and because I figured I was going to get soaked no matter what I wore my fleece jacket as some extra padding. This becomes important later on. Anyways I go down and miraculously manage to not drown or crash into the rocks, although I did pin my left hand between the rope and the rock wall at least twice. The great thing about adrenaline and freezing water though is I didn’t even notice my hand was bleeding until I made it to the bottom, so that was a plus. (What’s really gnarly is they aren’t even cut, it just straight up indented my knuckles to the point they started bleeding, which is pretty nuts - I’m still curious to see how they end up healing lol)

Anywhoo I’m just happy to be alive at this point, and I’m also very excited to get out of the canyon because 1) I am throughly soaked, and 2) it is late enough in the day that the sun is no longer shining in the canyon. So I was pretty much ready to haul out and lie on a sunny rock for an hour or so. So I waited until three of us were ready to go and then we started to head out. 

We made it about 200 feet before hitting our last big problem.

The problem here was that there was a narrow portion of the canyon, about 6 feet wide and 50 feet long, that was covered with snow. Let me explain why this was a problem: there was water running under the snow, and at least 2 large holes in the middle of the snow packs. What this means is the snow is probably just a crust, and you can easily fall through to the water underneath. The water itself was muddy so it was impossible to gauge depth and current accurately, and it was also impossible to see past the snow to see if the canyon leveled out or not. Basically our primary concern here was that if the water was deep and the snow continued for a ways, if you fell in you would get sucked under the snowpack and drown. Fun stuff. I should also note that this section had steep unclimbable walls all the way to the lip of the canyon some 200 feet above us, so this was literally the only way out.

Once my group of 3 noticed this, one of us went back to inform the rest of the group that we were throughly fucked, and I tried to get on some high ground to see if I could see past the snow. I actually could and it looked flat, and looking back on it I should have dragged more members of my team up there to see since it would’ve saved a ton of time, but what can I say foresight’s twenty twenty.

Regardless, the rest of my team finally makes it down to the snow so we can all stare at it together. After some discussion, our most experienced member went partway up the canyon wall to a small tree to see what she could see, and attempted to set up another repelling line so we could just walk along the canyon wall past the snow. 

While she was setting this up four of us started huddling for warmth because remember, all of us were completely soaked with ice water, and the sun was beginning to set. I remember thinking that the temperature was supposed to get to around 40 degrees F or lower that night, and at this point started seriously considering building a fire.

But while I was entertaining that idea, our second most experienced member latched into the rope and began walking along the canyon wall to see if she could get past the snow. We all watched her get to the last little bit of snow, which had a big hole right in front of it, before she repelled down into the hole (it turns out she just physically couldn’t get the rope to let her go over the snow, but from the shore it looked pretty fucking crazy). Anyways we can now not see her, and can barely hear her due the the fucking stream (another important feature of this event). 

Our experienced member, still on the canyon wall, was trying to yell to check in on the person in the canyon, since we all had trouble seeing/hearing her. After a couple fruitless shouts from both sides, we finally made out a warbling phrase of “I can’t get out”. After this our experienced member also repelled down into the hole, so we could no longer see or hear either of them. 

At this point the sun has set and I figured they were both probably doomed or dead so I started making a fire circle out of rocks, as one does.

Anyways just as I start finishing up my fire circle (which was pretty damn nice if I do say so myself) and throwing in some dry tinder (obtaining which was a pretty impressive feat given the proximity to the river) we finally hear something from the other side of the snow. 

Turns out the both of them had managed to climb onto the final piece of snow and were now yelling at us to do something. After more yelling we managed to get the message that they wanted us to jump in the first hole in the snow and come over to them. Seeing as we had all decided early on that jumping in the creek when you can’t see the bottom is typically a bad idea, none of us were too excited at the prospect. But seeing as it was fucking cold and all of us wanted to get the hell out of this damn canyon we inched closer to the hole to take a better look down.

We still couldn’t see the bottom of the water so no one really wanted to be the first to test it, so we were all kind of trying to get the others to go first. Eventually I decided to go just because I figured I was either going to die or get out of the canyon, and at this point we’d been shivering in the cold for at least an hour so I was ready to get this whole thing over with. After breaking up the snow I managed to slide down into the hole, and lo and behold it was only a couple inches deep. I helped everyone else down and then after walking under the snow to the next gap our two experienced members pulled us onto the final piece of snow (which was good because at that point my hands were too numb to grip anything) and we could finally continue out.

After that it was only a mile or so of walking in the stream to get to the cars, and since it was a full moon and several of us had headlamps it went pretty well. (Plus we were all so giddy to be out we moved pretty fast)

But overall other than a couple scratches/mental scarring it was a pretty good first canyoneering trip!

[caoimhinn]

All of us meet every new year marginally wiser, though the extent of which is dubious at best

As a caged crow bids farewell to another year, he should ponder, albeit in retrospect, the curious and the fascinating, as well as the wistful and bittersweet happenstances that graced his cage of ivory. It is also fitting to acknowledge the wonderful people that made the year the wondrous pilgrimage that it was. Let this be my final tribute and entry to the year 2017.

I've read that history always seems to read clearer when viewed in retrospect. That humans have this tendency to ascribe cause to the likely contributors of his aggregate and present self, and that he has this inclination to use facts and events that add credence to his person. I guess we're all guilty of these crimes, as it allows us the ability to weave our perceptions of ourselves into what we wish to become. The author of the book advises against this inclination, as it confines us into the naive notion that we understand what's going on. Because in truth it is the contrary; we humans have no way of ever determining whether some event happening right now will have wide-reaching effects to our future. Clearly, this is a feat God can only do.

With this opening passage I present a likely pitfall, as I may list details that confirm my present beliefs and ideals as I write this entry. I am keen on doing this entry anyway, because the act of retrospection is one of the ways I reinforce my understanding of myself, as well as the events and persons around me. Surely I can forgive myself this trespass. Lol

This year has been the long crawl out from the depths of despair and lethargy of the previous year. It marked the end of my slump, and the year of new beginnings. A year of goodbyes and encounters, this has been a transition much like when I packed my bags and went to university. Time seemed to move fairly slow, perhaps owing to new information I had to process, but nevertheless went by smoothly without any complications. The year was like the coming of spring, with all its invigorating burst of color and scents, but I can hardly call it spring just yet.

For one thing, it's still much like winter here inside. The spring may come early, but the frost has yet to thaw. Many unresolved issues from the past year still linger and give me cause to sleep less at night. Age-old fears creep up the corners of my heart, and my old friend Loneliness has come to check up on me again for the first time in years. Add to that this looming sense of never having a place to belong and never having people to confide in, and you have my definition of a frigid internal winter.

There is still cause to rejoice in the wintry seasons of the soul though. They say that the cold brings people closer, and they really weren't wrong in saying so. Learning to huddle with those close to you and just share stories by the fire is enough to bring me through the brunt of the seasons. And even now when my winter is mellowing, we still get to share that heightened sense of belongingness. When it comes to family, this much is the bare minimum though, and I am glad that my siblings and I have made it past this minimum threshold. It's one of things I'm thankful for, no doubt.

The real challenge, however, is when I have to forage out in the forests alone. After graduating from university, and after departing with my few remaining friends, things have been pretty hard for little me. Not one to easily confide and warm up to people, the outside world has been for me a very frightening and equally lonesome place to be. I often wonder if this is how I'll live for the rest of my life in the workforce, alone and unable to form new and meaningful connections. It's not uncommon for me to have vague thoughts of leaving this cesspool of small talk and shallow friendships in the outside world for the beauty of solace and company of a few close friends.

I believe I'm not being inconsistent when I say wish for solace and say that I'm lonely at the same time. I think there is a difference between being in an environment where there is the expectation and inevitability of having connections, and an environment where it is enjoyed and savored as it presents itself. From now on, I'm practicing, as much as possible, excusing myself from situations that potentially bring harm to my already fragile soul (lol). I do practice discernment in all cases and act appropriately though. As much as I dislike the sight of myself breaking, I'm still a martyr for people I care about. It has made my winters purposeful and more bearable.

But my exposition on the overarching themes of this year aside, I'd like to take this time to thank close friends and family who have put up with me and my banter for this year. I know I often come across as sentimental and at times melodramatic, even to an embarrassing fault, and I know that I am pretty much a slow-to-act-kind-of-person, but thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for allowing me the honour of meeting you, and sharing your light and warmth.

To my friends, I wish not to relive the good old days, instead let us meet again and make new memories together! And if the Lord wills not for our paths to meet again, I pray that our separate journeys be met with times as colourful as the time we spent together!

The coming year will surely not be the same without some of you, but I guess I can rest easy knowing that our paths will cross again, whether it be in this life or the next.

Happy New Year!

2319 hrs | 12.30.2017