#maybe i’ll make a post about it someday

[theaxolotlkween]

Jon Archivist, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

[kamabokobun]

Kind of old? I guess? My Link & Zelda’s most recent designs

[sleepypandazzz09]

How did Dungeon Meshi get so popular but Kemono Michi is almost unknown. The anime didn’t get very far but the manga is hilarious so it’s such a shame.

The scene I’m referring to.

[cat-brrr]

Teeth 😬

[leahdrawsstuff]

he’s a sad pathetic wet old man and his sons don’t like him yeah, but when people unironically hate on Hohenheim or treat him like an actual villain I question whether they’ve actually watched the whole show

[wholesomepostarchive]

the most wholesome thing is seeing that the wholesome post blog runner is probably one of the nicest people ever :3 i’m generally Terrified of sending asks especially to a blog that Does Things like this but seeing you talk in the tags instead of just reblogging and moving on makes you seem very friendly and approachable !!!! and i hope u know i appreciate that :] i hope you have a wonderful day and both sides of your pillow are always cool and that if you see a random cat on the sidewalk it won’t run away from U ♡

woah, META-WHOLESOME!! thank ya for the compliment, i try my best to carry out those kinds of traits i value!!!!! i’m SUPER super glad that ya did!!! THANK YOU THANK U!! always appreciating how much of an impact this lil blog has on top of appreciating u for sharing as much with me :-)

it’s always a TRIP getting to hear that something i do that i wasn’t even really mindfully doing makes all the difference?? i’m just really, REALLY grateful for all the different kinds of posts that get sent my way and seeing cool + uplifting + sentimental + OVERALL WHOLESOME posts that i express my thanks + ramble a bit in the tags haha !!

i ALSO hope you have as terrific of a day as you’re able to! and i hope you’ll enjoy seeing more posts pop up!

AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE but i got new pillow cases like a week ago THAT DO JUST THAT! AND THERE’S A NEW CAT ON THE STREET WHO HANGS OUT WITH ME SOMETIMES (i’ve been planning to see if he has a microchip, but i know for a fact that the neighbors who feed all the stray cats on our street already have a cage + are well-versed in TNR, so i’ve been thinking about asking them first because the thought that someone could be out there looking for their pal is enough for me to “do it scared”) !! SO THANK U NOT ONLY FOR THE SWEET SENTIMENTS BUT ALSO FOR THE UNEXPECTED HILARITY OVER THE FACT THAT THEY’VE COME TRUE???

[joeeatsdvds]

i can’t describe why but i think that i would be a completely different person today if i had actively watched steven universe instead of clarence and uncle grandpa

[kc5rings]

Lung and Draco in Arknights lay eggs, I know this in my heart

[aj-thegreatest]

Corporate needs you to find the difference between these two photos-

[simcardiac-arrested]

I had no idea you knew about oneshot but sice you do Prophetbot and Proto would 100% blend in with iterators. Just saying. Anyway, *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam**Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hits you with oneshot beam* *Hi

STOP MAKINF ME THINK ABOUT PROTO AND PROPHET ESPECIALLY AS ITERATORS I’LL SERIOUSLY EAT ROCKS

[vstheworld]

I am never going to be a person who like…exercises. but I started just doing ten push-ups a day and the difference it’s made is wild

[wayward-banana]

“hey where’s your art why aren’t you posting any art—“ ITS JUST MY XIV OCS KISSING AND BEING STUPID THATS ALL IT IS AND IM NOT USING THE TUMBLR MATURE TAG I DO NOT HAVE THE COURAGE FOR IT!!! FUCK!!!!!

[disasterhimbo]

[ID: several versions of the Garfield “you are not immune to propaganda” meme. The first three read, “you are not immune to cultural appropriation,” “you are not exempt from unlearning racism,” and “you are not immune to upholding racist values.” The fourth, added in a reblog by OP, says, “you are not immune to being the white person im talking about.” End ID.]

hey white leftists

[larrylimericks]

19Oct24

No matter how mad the word made us, It always held hope — a “hiatus.”

I’m sad for so many reasons — the fundamental sadness of death, and at such a young age; having to process the mortality of someone so extraordinary it seems they should transcend a fate as ordinary as dying; aching for his family and friends; angry that he had to navigate such a cruel world, one that continues to disrespect him in death. Yes, Liam was damaged and in turn damaged others; he had demons to face and amends to make — I like to think he would have, given a chance. His talent was so immense, and there was so much more to come. I believe he would have found a way to redemption, and then had such a beautiful renaissance.

The joy of being a 1D fan has always been policed and mocked. We’ve so frequently been laughed at, dismissed for the intensity of our love for the band. And now, the world wants to do the same with our grief, questioning its legitimacy, trivializing our feelings. But this loss is real. And this grief is valid.

And the grief of losing Liam is compounded by the grief of losing so much else. He wasn’t just a celebrity. They weren’t just a boyband. He was an integral part of an integral part of our formative years — no matter how old we were when we found them. So many of us are the people we are in part because of the people they are. Were. We’ve lost a beloved one, we’ve lost innocence, we’ve lost inspiration, we’ve lost a piece of our foundation.

We’ve lost hope.

It used to frustrate me, in retrospect, that they called it a “hiatus.” It felt dishonest — like a gentle lie to let us down easy. Why couldn’t they just say it was over? That being a boy band has a built-in shelf life, and it was time to explore solo careers. But now I understand the kindness in that word. For hope springs eternal, and it didn’t matter if it never came. All that matters was that it might. And “hiatus” wasn’t just for us; it held their optimism too. Especially Liam’s. It left the door open, even if only a crack, for the possibility of something more.

It’s been a remarkable gift to watch each one find his own path and his own voice. But when they announced a hiatus in 2015, they planted a seed of hope that someday we’d see the unrivaled magic of those boys on stage together again — the greatest team the world has ever seen. Maybe Zayn would join, probably not. Maybe it would’ve been a one-off thing for charity or a special anniversary. Maybe it would be in their 50s when the allure of easy money from a reunion tour was too tempting to resist. But surely, eventually, 1D would reunite in some capacity. I was excited to see how their once frenetic energy and youthful antics would meld with the mature solo artists they’ve become.

That hope sustained us through 18 months and eventually eight years, but now the hiatus is over. I would have happily clowned for every remaining day of my life than know this new certainty brought by the finality of Liam’s death. Maybe, someday, there will be a memorial performance. Maybe we’ll see three or four out of five come together to honor him — and what a poignant testament it will be that Liam was what could bring them together. Or maybe it will never feel right to them to take the stage without him, and that, too, will make all the sense in the world.

I wish I had an uplifting ending for this post. I don’t. I wake up and my first thought is “Liam isn’t here anymore,” and then I go about my day with that relentless realization lurking around the corner of every mundane task I do.

I haven’t been able to listen to their music yet. It’s a cruel trick that the thing that always brought comfort is now a trigger for grief. But I hope that will soon change. That, at some point, I’ll put on WMYB, get choked up at “You’re insecure” and second-guess my readiness. But then jump to History, and find solace in the lyrics that are currently rattling around my brain but aren’t ready to be heard yet: “This is not the end, this is not the end” … “We can live forever.”

❯❯❯❯

[adieutristana]

asexual reader headcanons; arcane women x fem!reader

this one is completely self-indulgent because i want to validate myself. if there happens to be a demand for this, enjoy

disclaimer that i’m aware asexuality is a spectrum. i lean way toward the sex-repulsed side of things, so that’s how i will write reader.

summary; arcane women dating asexual!reader

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest

tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is asexual (duh), not rly nsfw but sex is talked about? if that makes sense, maybe (probably) ooc, VERY brief mentions of sa, kinda short, again this is self-indulgent

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* not even really a conversation that’s had. you tell her that you’re asexual, she looks at you for a moment, shrugs, and goes back to whatever she’s doing.

✧.* honestly does not care.

✧.* this scared you at first- her lack of response made you think she might be upset, or as if she wanted to pretend she didn’t hear you. when you brought it up with her, jinx seemed to be a bit confused as to why it was such a big deal to you.

✧.* “so what? i can still bring you around zaun, and hold you, and kiss you in the hideout. that stuff doesn’t matter.”

✧.* you’ll have to discuss boundaries with her of course. i personally believe she has a lot of stamina, but not the highest drive, so it doesn’t really matter to her. you’re open to the idea, just not right now? great. you don’t think you can ever see yourself having sex? that’s cool too.

✧.* what matters to jinx is that you’re around. you’re there. she’s yours, and you’re hers. she wants that connection, the humanity of it all.

✧.* still super touchy. of course she won’t do anything that crosses a line, but jinx is gonna be sat in your lap and peppering kisses all over your face while rambling away about some new invention of hers any chance she gets.

✧.* “sooo… what’s my pretty girl up to? nothing? oh, i guess i’ll find a spot then…”

✧.* before sprawling herself out on your lap, giggling up at you. she thinks she’s hilarious.

✧.* i think she’d still make a lot of dirty jokes, though. jinx doesn’t necessarily mean anything by them, she’s just a girl who likes to laugh and have a fun time. she’ll stop if you ask her to.

✧.* if she does do something out of line, she’s immediately apologizing profusely and asking what she can do to make it right. probably one of the downsides of dating jinx… you’ll have to assure her endlessly that it’s okay, she made a mistake, you’re not upset. jinx just hates the thought of you being mad at her, she can’t bear even the thought of losing you.

✧.* jinx can be pretty romantic when she wants to be- in her own way, of course. she’s always been less than conventional. sex is one way of expressing love- but she’s got a bunch more, don’t worry.

✧.* post-it notes on your things with stick figure drawings of the two of you, surprise kisses in the middle of you talking, impromptu firework shows just for you…

vi;

✧.* i don’t think she’d really care much either. she is sexual, but she doesn’t need it to survive i don’t think?

✧.* if anything, she was just a bit confused when you told her about your sexuality. she didn’t realize that that was an option until you told her about your preferences

✧.* but it’s you! and vi cares about you, so she’ll do whatever she can to make sure that you’re happy. she probably will ask if you’d be open to the possibility someday, but she won’t pressure you if you tell her ‘no’ or ‘not anytime soon.’

✧.* “as long as i get to be with you, cupcake.”

✧.* vi cannot stand the idea of ever doing anything out of line, though, so she’ll make sure to outline absolutely everything with you. as i’ve said in other posts, i think vi would be a pretty good communicator. getting things out of the way before they become a problem. gods forbid she tried to make a move on you before you had told her.

✧.* still suuuuch a tease, just in a more ‘pg’ way. she’ll withhold kisses from you just to see you pout, she’ll brush your back from behind you and chuckle when you jump in surprise.

✧.* you’re just adorable to vi, don’t mind her.

✧.* “what? i can’t think it’s funny? i think you need to lighten up a little, babe.”

✧.* vi will definitely ask you questions as well, though it’s not anything malicious or her trying to prod. the first place her mind goes is it being a trauma response- but regardless of your answer, she’ll support it. she just wants to understand you and where you’re coming from better, and if it’s something as simple as you just not enjoying the idea of sex, then so be it!

✧.* cannot reiterate enough how important communication is. vi loves you, she wants to understand you, she wants to know exactly what to do and what not to do.

mel;

✧.* i don't think she'd mind much, honestly. mel is very well-read, probably already knows a good deal about human sexuality and the wide spectrum it is. i don't think she'd ever necessarily considered that someone could just... not experience sexual attraction, but she doesn't really think twice about it when you tell her.

✧.* of course she has questions, but they're only so that she can understand you better. she can't get all of her knowledge on a topic like this from research, of course.

✧.* one of the most important things to mel is connection. sex is one way to connect, but not the only, and she’ll happily take the other options if it’s what you need.

✧.* good communication, physical touch, taking you out for sweet dinners or letting you look after her after something particularly dangerous… all things that mel loves. feeling close to you, being there with you, sharing warm moments with you. she loves spoiling you, it’s quickly become one of her favorite things to do.

✧.* “anything you want to do, dearest,” she’d say. “just name it, and it’s yours. no matter how far it is, or how outlandish, you’ll be happy.”

✧.* if you decide that you are open to a sexual relationship, mel will cover every single base with you before trying anything. of course that’s what should be done, but she genuinely wants to make sure everything is to your comfort and you’re happy. and you’re going it because you want to, not just to please her

✧.* mel is just such a sweet and gentle lover all around. as long as she has that level of connection, the companionship, the trust, she’s happy. as long as she gets to kiss you and hold you when she needs to, as long as she gets to hear that you love her, mel is happy.

sevika;

✧.* you’re gonna have to explain to sevika what asexuality is and what it means to you. i’m so sorry

✧.* it’s not that she won’t understand, it’s just that she’s not too familiar with the terminology and well… it’s not very common

✧.* once you do explain it to her, though, there’s not much of a reaction. i don’t think she’d ever considered the possibility of someone just not feeling sexual attraction or not feeling the need for sex. but once she thinks about it, she supposes it makes sense, everyone is different.

✧.* sevika is sexual. she canonically goes to zaun’s brothel. but i don’t think she’d be bothered having an asexual partner, it’s nice to just have somebody around, somebody to care for and love, even if they’re not up to that side of a relationship. she appreciates your company, your reassurance, your love regardless of what form it comes in.

✧.* that, and she has a hand if she gets desperate.

✧.* “doesn’t matter, dove. can still share a bed and touch you, yeah…? just in other ways.”

✧.* i’ve said it several times before and i’ll say it again, sevika is fiercely loyal. something as insignificant as this will not affect that! if anything she’s thankful that you’re honest with her, you’re upfront, and that you trust her to love you the way you need to be loved

✧.* incredibly touchy regardless, just keeps her hands off of certain areas unless you tell her it’s okay to put them there. she loves being by your side, loves that contact, loves pressing soft kisses to your neck or wrapping her arms around you from behind as she whispers sweet words to you.

caitlyn;

✧.* you’re gonna have to explain it to her… she’s heard of asexuality before, but i don’t think she’d really understand right off the bat. you’ll probably have to explain that it’s not the same as celibacy, just the fact that you don’t feel sexual attraction to begin with

✧.* once it clicks there’s not really much conversation after that! of course cait will ask about your boundaries, what asexuality means to you specifically, what you do and don’t want to do, but she catches on pretty quickly. you just need to give her a second for everything to make sense in her head

✧.* caitlyn is pretty romantic i’d think, and although she’s sexual, asexuality is far from a dealbreaker for her. cait is more than willing to express her love in other ways- (non sexual) physical touch, little words of reassurance, her protection, the way she does you favors without you even having to ask…

✧.* caitlyn makes sure to use her words especially. she loves telling you that she loves you, she loves complimenting you, calling you sweet pet names, making you feel special by speaking to you. it makes her so incredibly happy

✧.* “you’re beautiful, darling, do you know that? you drive me mad constantly, i swear…”

✧.* caitlyn is also pretty big on communication and i think she’d be the type to make sure any little touch is okay. she gets a bit anxious, and you might have to reassure her that it’s perfectly fine for her to grab your waist or hips. she just worries, she doesn’t want to overstep.

✧.* she’s down for anything that you want to do, and don’t want to do. it’s all for your comfort, and as long as you’re hers- her love, her girlfriend, she’s happy.

lest;

✧.* doesn’t really have a grand reaction to you telling her. i’d say she’s sexual and experienced, but this also makes her aware of the various ways sexuality works. so what if you don’t experience sexual attraction, or the same desires many others do?

✧.* of course there are the multiple conversations, mostly about boundaries and exactly what you do and don’t want to do. lest is fine with anything, but she’s a lover at heart. all she wants is to take care of you, and make sure that you’re comfortable with whatever is going on.

✧.* still incredibly touchy. stealing kisses in between clients if you visit her at work, snuggling up to you, purring against you as you embrace her… lest genuinely just loves to be close to you

✧.* she’s tired constantly. lest is a busy woman, so being able to come home to you after a long day of dealing, negotiating, stroking clients’ egos… it’s a treat. something that becomes motivation for her. count on lest to crawl up next to you on the couch when she finally arrives home, sighing as you card your fingers through her silky hair.

✧.* “i swear, they get more and more difficult every day…” she’d lament.

✧.* IF you decide that you’re up for anything, lest will be checking in on you the entire time during to make sure you’re okay. probably the first few times. she knows you’re alright, you’re safe, but the last thing she wants is to make her asexual partner uncomfortable or hurt her.

✧.* but even if you’re not, it doesn’t make any difference to lest.

✧.* she’s got a beautiful woman who loves her, who cares for her. who she can bring around piltover and spoil, share peaceful moments with… it’s all she could ask for.

[hyukascampfire]

𝓣HE FROST REMEMBERS ࣪˖ ִִ h.k

artblock has one weakness: creation. it just so happens that you decide to make your final hurrah, the greatest work of your life, out of winter’s most gentle gift. and, the frost remembers. . ۫︎ ︎ ︎︎

⺡ ࣪˒ ( ☃️ ) ･ 2k

𝓹airings ˒ snowman!kai x art student!reader

𝒢 ; fluff ˒ angst

𝔀arnings ˒ fluff, angst, mentions of past deaths, chubby!reader, kai is in fact a man made of snow, more of a drabble, not proofread yet (i’ll get to it when i wake up from this big ol nap hehe)

✎୭ ashlynn's note i want to thank @aduh0308 and her lovely brain for this one! this was such a beautiful idea that i honestly was so nervous about executing. i hope i pulled it off well enough!! it was supposed to have a way, way heavier end, but honestly as much as i love the poeticism of that ending, it just wasn’t right for this fic. hehe now i press post and knock out!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

The snow winks at you differently, today.

Jaw tight, you kick and tread through heavy snow piles. The air is like glass on your cheeks and snowflakes wet your head where they come falling down over you, but faulty paint strokes and the heavy weight of a paintbrush in your hands smear over it.

No matter how you plan before sitting down to create, it just falls flat. The colors are flat and wrong, the shapes don’t bloom into story, and…

None of it looks good. It’s as simple as that. You are shit at it, and it’s what you’ve chosen to do for the rest of your life. When you’re not able to make something worthwhile, even for a grade? 

You don’t create much for school, and you create nothing at home. All that will come from you putting brush to canvas is wasting the hours of your day away. All that will come is creating something that further solidifies your failings. Maybe you aren’t the worst, but you are a lifetime away from the best. That doesn’t get you anywhere; so what is the point of it? It’s pointless. You are doing something pointless with your life, and you are only going to hate it more each time you drag your feet into the classroom you once loved to slather paint on canvas. And then, when you take that long walk back home that leaves you an awful amount of time to think, you come to one conclusion.

You can’t create. Not if you want to preserve that talent that you once had. Or, at least your ability to believe that you have it. If you pick up your tools and from it create something awful, then your fear becomes real. So, you can’t.

 Today, you’ll create your last piece. Something impermanent, that you can kick down and move on from. Then, you’ll drop out, and find something else. Maybe someday, you’ll find what you used to feel for your first love again. You hope so; you’ve watched it leave you with each frustrated swipe of the brush and felt it go when your throat would tighten at the sight of your finished projects. Losing that love is something featured in stories since the dawn of humanity. But, losing this love is different. You can’t go and speak with it, nor can you plead with it, and you certainly cannot touch it to drag it back. It’s something wholly inside of yourself, and you find it impossible to reach. You’ve tried forcing yourself to paint, you’ve tried breaks, and you’ve tried waiting for inspiration. Still, it’s so far from your touch.

You blink a stray snowflake out of your lashes and stop. The little patch of snow is flat and twinkles with morning—it’s perfect. For a moment, you admire it. Then you get to work.

Handfuls of snow melt through your cotton gloves. At some point, your fingers go tingly and then unfeeling. The snow is powdery and loose, but that’s no matter to you. You compact it down into something solid and pack it into smooth-edged shapes. Around you, just beyond the thick focus that you let fall over you when you work, people bustle by. Some stop to watch you, the ice crystals like glitter captured in the form of the sculpture catching their eyes as they pass. They move on when you don’t entertain them, though.

All you know is the sweet song of a mourning dove cooing, and the working of your hands. You don’t think much further than that; what comes from your carving and shaping is a misty, shimmering wisp of consciousness. Whatever had been brimming in your blood, you let it go—let it take shape.

You give a little here, adding chunks where it’s missing, and take a little there, carving when your heart suggests it. It grows and claims space for itself. It seems that it’s never enough; every time you intend to take a step back, you find just one more thing that needs your fixing.

When you do finally dust off your gloves, snow clinging to the fluff, you’re stricken to the spot—hit right in the gut with a roll of something you haven’t felt in so long. In the angles of the shoulders, you see flashes of resting your head there like they were built just to hold you. In the column of the neck, you feel the pressing of your lips against the warm skin down the side of it. In the pretty splay of the hands, you feel the appreciative, devoted pressure of hands roaming and kneading the plusness of your belly and thighs, holding them with reverence even when you didn’t see them as something to revere.

And, in the face, you see him held  everlasting in the wintery serenity of the snow: your dead boyfriend.

Tracing the lines of him, you swallow hard. He’s exactly as he was in life, but he is unmoving. His eyes are all twinkling with ice particles, and not with the alive, benevolent light that you remember. When you tug off a glove, itching to feel the shape of his cheek once more, he’s sickeningly cold to the touch.

You run your finger over his cheek, as soft as you remember it, and down the length of his nose, heart aching at the little bump on the bridge of his nose as you find that just as you remember it, too. Looking up into his eyes, you can almost feel the weight of his gaze the way it feels in your memory. 

His lips are crisp against your mouth. Maybe you look mad to a passerby, but you want to remember the shape of his lips, too. You linger there for a few moments. Just long enough for you to pretend, and then you let your lashes flutter back open and bring your mouth away from the snow.

Sitting still, lifeless, he does not smile that easy smile he should. The one he used to, when you’d steal his lips in a chaste kiss. Your heart, having soared up into the snow-heavy clouds as light as air, sinks. Of course, he doesn’t. The only place that his smile still lives and breathes in is your memories. You just ache to see it somewhere else at least once more. That’s all.

Tugging your glove back on to save your pale fingers, you try to dull the twinging in your chest and the bitterness that closes around your throat. You’ll go home, and you’ll begin trying to forget your art. You don’t kick it down like you’d come here intending to, though. Not this one. What a beautiful last work it was. Huffing a curling breath of frosty, silver air, you take one last look at him.

From his lashes, clumps of dusty snow fall like fairy dust. You furrow your brows, and more comes tumbling down. It crumbles and crumbles, falling from his eyes to reveal deep chocolate, and then from his face to reveal warm flesh, and then he shakes it off the rest of him.

He shakes it off the rest of him. 

Your mouth goes dry, looking up at his eyes, and he looks at you back.

“Love?”

The sound comes from his chest like both a potent balm and the sharpest blade. It melts into your skin and nurses the hurt there, and it cuts them right back open. Hearing the name you’ve not heard for so long in his voice—you reel.

“Kai?” you say. Your voice wobbles like your legs do. Aside from the both of you, the rest of the world goes hushed and still. 

He furrows his brows, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. Your skin prickles at the warmth. He’d been so, so cold just a moment ago. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” he asks.

You want to sit here all shaken, but you can’t. Not when he’s standing before you in the flesh. Standing before you real. Opening up your arms, you crush him between them and press your face into his chest. Puffing your breaths, your nose and cheeks sigh relief at the warmth that seeps out from him, and in that you know he is solid.

“Woah,” he says, trailed off by a soft laugh. Kai wraps his arms around your waist and rests his cheek on the top of your head. “Hugs, baby.” 

For a few moments, something between just a split second and an eternity, you hold him and he holds you. It snows and snows down on you. When you finally pull back enough to speak to him, you say, “You’re real. Oh my god, you’re fucking real.”

With a raise of his brows, he says, “I’m real. Right here. I’m right here.” He runs a quick hand through his hair and drags his hand down his face to show it.

Opening your mouth, you close it right back up to decide which of the infinite things you want to ask him. “I…” you start. “Kai, you were dead. You were dead, and now you’re standing… right here in front of me. I don’t…”

In the sweet, dorky way that tugs at memories, one corner of his lips turn up into a slight smile. “I guess I was. But I’m here now, aren’t I?” He takes your cheek in his hand. “I never left you, darling. Maybe you couldn’t see me like this, but I never did. I promised you that, didn’t I?” When your face crumples, an awful twisting of your features that you fight to contain, he curls his fingers over your hand and brings it up to his cheek. “Feel. Feel, I’m real, aren’t I? Don’t cry. You don’t have to cry, because I’m here.”

Your heart thunders and storms, and your cheeks sting with tears. Swallowing it all down, you say, “I missed you so much, Kai.”

He reaches up to brush snowflakes off your hair. “I know. I missed you too.” When his eyes fall on you and your shivering self, he says, “I was there with you the whole time.”

It hadn’t felt like that. If he was alive inside you, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was hollow. And if he was in the world around you, that felt empty, too. But, he’s here now, and it doesn’t feel so much the same. “How?” you say, shaking your head. You wish you could have felt him. “Where?”

“Everywhere, love. You didn’t go one day where I was not there. In the frost, I was there.”

You don’t know what that means. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how that might be possible, or if it’s even the truth, or if this is some kind of miracle spun with the silver threads of the fates. Whatever it is, he stands in front of you now. Nothing else really matters much but that.

“Do you want to go home?” you ask. Out here, this moment feels fleeting. All you want is to be there, in the same place where you’d made your lives together, so that you can solidify it and keep it safe from the world. 

Peppering kisses all about your face, he snorts. “Look at your nose. You should’ve been home hours ago.”

You let your eyes flutter shut in the onslaught of his lips against your skin. “I know,” you mumble. Then, you would’ve snarked about his worrying. Kai was always worrying over you, and you’d crinkle your nose and demand that you’re doing fine.

Like this, though, you don’t mind his doting so much. Not now, and not ever again, you think. Not when he, hewn from snow and brought to life by your kiss, is utterly real and utterly alive in front of you. Not when he is the art in your life.

You think you might go home and pull out your paints.

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note AHHH i don’t know how to feel about this one.

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