#on the plus side I may see snow flurries today!

[shadowthestoryteller]

When you’ve just woken up and are trying to process existence

[giveemhales]

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 20/?

For @averysterekwinter day 3 (Theme: snow/ice)

Snow Day

(Plus here’s a fluffy ficlet, the rest under the cut because it got a bit long)

The first thing Stiles noticed when he woke up was that outside was white.

It was snowing, and not the drizzle of snowflakes that would melt upon hitting ground that was more usual for the area. No, there was a thick layer of white over everything in sight.

The second thing he noticed was the thing that woke him up: a text on his phone. He didn’t want to call it hypervigilance, because that implied a whole host of other issues he didn’t want to address, but even just the vibration of his phone from a single text was enough to rouse him.

It was an inconvenient habit (it was winter break and he wanted to sleep in, dammit), but he was grateful he had been roused when he read the text.

The text was from Derek and simply said Come to pack house ASAP.

Rest of fic under the cut!

He considered calling or texting to ask what was wrong, but he had gotten enough texts like that to know he wouldn’t get a response. If he wanted any answers, he would have to go to the pack house.

Stiles and Derek had been dating for around a year now, but they rarely texted. Well, Derek rarely texted. Stiles texted and Derek sometimes reluctantly replied. He wasn’t a big fan of technology. Kind of annoying considering Stiles was usually away at his campus, but Derek’s almost weekly visits more than made up for it.

So seeing this text immediately concerned Stiles. Pair that with the unusual snow, and he assumed the worst.

His mind whirred with different possibilities. Did a witch cast a spell? Was Jack Frost making a visit? Was some new dark Druid coming to fuck with nature?

He knew he was being a bit irrational, but he had learned to assume the worst when it came to Beacon Hills, and he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen actual snow at home in his lifetime. His past experiences didn’t allow him the luxury of excitement about novelties.

Overall, the combination of the unusual weather and the text from Derek calling for an emergency meeting had Stiles on edge and falling out of his bed in his haste to head out.

He didn’t have a good snow jacket so he just put on as many layers as was comfortable and a coat. He grabbed some gloves, and mourned for his converse which would surely not do well in the snow.

Stiles rushed out to his car, noting his dad had already left for the station. He was grateful to note the roads had already been cleared, as he wasn’t sure if his jeep could handle snow and ice.

He parked when he reached the edge of the preserve. They had cleared a dirt road so that they would be able to drive to the pack house, but it wasn’t an official street so the city had no reason to clear it of snow. 

Stiles understood why it wasn’t cleared of snow, but he was still annoyed. Fortunately, the snow wasn’t slushy, so at least his feet weren’t soaked. Still, his converse and jeans did little to protect him from the cold, and he walked as quickly as he could, while also watching out for any possible ice patches. 

By the time the pack house was in sight, Stiles was shivering, and ready to yell at Derek for making him come all this way when phones were a thing. 

Derek was standing in front of the pack house, and Stiles had no qualms about yelling and walking at the same time.

“Hey, jerk, there better be a good reason you called me out here, like dead bodies good reason. I am just a human without all the werewolf heat mojo, and I’m on break, so there are not a whole lot of reasons I should be anywhere except in bed sleeping right now.”

Stiles couldn’t really make out Derek’s face, but he knew it wasn’t as remorseful as it should have been.

Stiles sighed loudly and continued marching toward the house, looking down again to make sure he didn’t step in anything which would make him even more uncomfortable.

It was as soon as he looked down that he felt it, the cold becoming even colder, ice running through his veins.

He was under attack!

He looked up with a gasp, eyes searching for the assailant, for what cruel monster had thrown a snowball right at him. 

He was surprised to see that all of the pack had appeared in front of the house (damn werewolf speed), all wearing smirks of varying deviousness. 

Derek had his arm still raised, and Stiles knew he was the perpetrator (he wasn’t even wearing gloves but already had another snowball in his other hand, he clearly had an unfair advantage). 

In fact, everyone had a snowball prepared, and they were all staring right at Stiles with an evil gleam.

“Whoa! Who decided everyone would team up against me? This seems totally unfair.”

“It’s not everyone against you,” Scott said.

“It’s every man for himself,” Isaac finished for him, and threw a snowball right at Derek’s face.

And then it was chaos.

Stiles made as many snowballs as he could while the werewolves were distracted amongst themselves, thanking god he had thought to put on gloves. 

When Stiles was pretty sure he had a good amount of ammo stockpiled, he called to Scott. “Scotty, it’s snow time!”

Ever since they were young, when they had any sort of battle, whether it be nerf guns or water balloons, “It’s show time,” was their codeword to create an alliance. They would join forces and blindside their opposite.

(Stiles may or may not have been waiting his whole life to get to use that snow time pun).

Stiles began constructing a kick ass fortress as Scott ran over and began throwing Stiles’ snowballs at a pace only werewolves were capable of. 

When he popped up to check how Scott was doing, he was blindsided by three rapid succession snowballs right to the face. 

All from his boyfriend.

“Rude! And totally unwarranted!” Stiles shouted.

Derek glared at him. “It was revenge for that awful pun.”

Stiles gaped. “Oh you have snow idea what you’ve just started.”

He ducked before Derek had even thrown the next snowball.

The battle lasted close to another hour (Stiles cursed werewolf endurance), hundreds of snowballs and a handful of puns thrown.

It was at the time that his gloves were soaked through and he thought his fingers might fall off if he made one more snowball that he decided to call it quits.

He turned to look at Scott who was hiding with him behind the fortress and gave one nod. They stood up in unison, shouting their surrender with their hands up.

They were immediately pelted with a flurry of balls.

Stiles’ arms fell to his side. “Really? When we were surrendering? Do you snow snow bounds?”

The rest of the pack stared at him with blank stares.

“Fine, whatever, clearly nobody appreciates me nor understands my genius. Sorry my puns are too advanced for you all.” Stiles shook his head in disappointment and began to head to the house.

And promptly fell on his ass.

The rest of the pack burst into laughter (including Scott, the traitor, who was quick to abandon him), and Stiles glared at the sky from where he lay, cursing the world for this injustice.

Derek walked over, a smirk clear on his face while he looked down at Stiles. “You good?”

Stiles grumbled. “Yes. I meant to do that.”

Derek looked even more amused. “Oh really? And why is that?” Derek asked even as he offered a hand to help Stiles up.

“So I could do this!” Stiles shouted as he pulled down Derek with all his might with the offered hand. He knew Derek must not have been expecting it, because he actually managed to pull him down with an exclamation.

His victory was short lived, as he realized the consequences of his actions. He groaned. “God, you’re so heavy.”

“And you’re so dumb.” Derek got up on his elbows so he was slightly above Stiles. 

Stiles stared dreamily up at his boyfriend, deciding to ignore the insult. “Hey, did it hurt?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You mean when you pulled me down? Not really, I had a squishy human to cushion my fall.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, when you fell from heaven,” Stiles smiled widely, “Because you’re a snow angel.” He rolled them so he was above Derek.

Derek sighed heavily but remained limp as Stiles grabbed his arms, sliding them up and down through the snow in the classic snow angel motion.

Stiles rolled away from Derek when he got as close to an angel as he could and made his own, laughing the whole time. 

Derek sat up from where he had been manhandled. “Why do I put up with you?”

“It’s because you glove me!” Stiles shouted, removing one of his gloves (which at this point had become so soaked from snow that it was just making him more cold) and tossing it at Derek.

“Don’t take off your gloves, you dumbass!” Derek said, looking scandalized. Stiles couldn’t really blame him for his concern. Stiles was a human, and therefore susceptible to pesky things like hypothermia, but Derek should have thought of that before he started a snowball battle. 

Derek stood up and lifted Stiles up, hauling him over his shoulder.

Stiles didn’t really mind, since it got him out of the snow and gave him a great view of Derek’s ass.

“Just admit you’re s-mitten!” He took off his other glove and slapped Derek’s ass with it.

~~~

An hour later, Stiles was wearing multiple layers of Derek’s (dry) clothes, wrapped in a blanket, cuddling against his furnace boyfriend, surrounded by the pack.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but even if some people were needlessly cruel to me today, I had an ice time.”

The pack groaned, except Scott, who added, “Icy what you did there!”

Stiles leaned over to high five Scott.

“I will kick out the next person to make a pun,” Derek interjected.

Stiles rolled his eyes, even as he cuddled back into Derek’s side. “Ugh, whatever you say, Frosty.”

Derek glared down at Stiles, looking prepared to retaliate.

Stiles put his hands up in mock surrender. “That wasn’t a pun, that was a reference.”

“Well it wasn’t a very good one, since Frosty was a holly jolly soul.”

Stiles beamed. “Oh my god, my boyfriend knows his Christmas classics. I think I’m in love.”

“We know,” the rest of the pack responded in unison, but Stiles was too busy staring up at his boyfriend in adoration to care.

~~~ 

Later that night, when they laid together in bed, Stiles looked up at Derek, and his fondness shined bright. “I love you.”

Derek looked back at him, equally fond, and smirked and said, “I know.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him for ruining the moment, or kiss him senseless for quoting Star Wars. He did neither, because he couldn’t let this opportunity pass.

“You mean, you snow?”

The ensuing slap on the back of his head was well worth it.

[forkanna]

WARNING: Very N S F W. Includes sisterly incest, cunnilingus, anal play, tickling, foot worship, and as you probably expected... food kink.

Notes: HAPPY CORONATION DAY! I've been hanging onto this since I posted chapter 5 both because I wanted to make sure it was just right, and I thought it deserved to be released on an important day in the fandom's history: the date Elsa was crowned Queen of Arendelle in 1844. (We know this thanks to some smart cookies on Reddit haha)

So I know this should technically be from Elsa's POV if I continued to follow the convention I set up for myself, but I decided to keep writing it as Anna. It's been her story from the beginning and it should end as her story. Plus it's an epilogue, so it doesn't have to follow the rest of the fic's format! So there! AHAHAHAHA… I don't know, I'm tired.

And YES, this is the end. No sequels, no Epilogues-To-Epilogues; the MSB grand finale. I know a lot of you may have not seen my mention of an epilogue in the notes for last chapter, so hopefully you'll see this! If any of you want to continue Elsa and Anna's story in your own spinoff fanfics, be my guest (but please credit me); otherwise, I consider MSB to be at its natural ending. Hope you all enjoy the last slice!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has waited this long for what is essentially a one-off smutty fic about D*sney sisters to be finished. I owe so much to this story; it changed my life in a very literal, very unexpected way. Elsa and Anna's true love thawed my jaded heart and encouraged me to keep writing, even when I was sank deep in the darkness of a miserable life, and to explore who I am in ways I never felt brave enough to do. I'm in such a better place now than when this began. It's been a pleasure being part of this fandom, and hopefully I will continue to enjoy it for a long time to come.

Until we meet again,

Jessex

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

                                                 EPILOGUE

                              Min Søsters Bursdagsmadrass: Anna

                                         ~ Five Months Later ~

Okay, okay, not quite five months have passed since we saved our kingdom from my sister's magic. Closer to four-and-a-half. But the time has flown by so much that it feels more like a week.

Kristoff and Sven came galloping up to the gates just as we were exiting. The ice boy was a lot less shocked that I was arm-in-arm with Elsa than I expected; probably because he pretty much already caught us in flagrante delicto before. He tried to offer congratulations, and I gave him a big hug to cut through all that awkwardness.

Olaf showed up not long after. Well, we came across a puddle that used to be Olaf; I'd know that carrot nose anywhere. Before I could start sobbing, Elsa calmly created a little ice-flurry and rebuilt him as easy as if she were breathing; he was disoriented, but didn't take long to be back to his cheerful self, hugging us and congratulating us on figuring out that we belonged together. That made sense the more I thought about it. Seriously, why wouldn't our snow-baby always know his parents should stay together?

Naturally, there were a few people who came to the levee that didn't condone our love. I wish I could say differently. Most of them were either too afraid to speak out against us — probably because my sister was some kind of ice witch, that tends to make even the bravest of men need a change of underwear — or they were genuinely happy we were happy, and summer was back. But one or two tried to shame us. Didn't go well, considering we were the monarchy and surrounded by supporters. More insisted we needed a king, at the very least for the purpose of heirs. I tried to tell them that Olaf was our heir, which got a lot of weird looks, but Elsa insisted that it was our decision if and when we crossed that bridge. I guess that's why she's the queen, right? I mean, can you imagine me as the queen of Arendelle? No way!

Hans was tried and convicted of treason against the kingdom. I didn't even go; I didn't want to look at him again if I could help it. But I watched from the castle walls with my sister as they led him away to a ship bound for the Southern Isles. We figured his family would make sure the sentence was severe if they wanted to maintain a good trade partnership with Arendelle. Plus, we wouldn't have to deal with him still being in our home. Win-win.

We also shipped old Weaseltown out. He can peacock-strut and backstab on his own turf.

Everything flew by a lot faster after those first few days. Kristoff was our new icemaster general — totally a real title, thank you — and Olaf's cheery presence got everyone used to the idea of magic. The people slowly grew to accept that their queen had a queen of her own. At first, we tried not to be too open with our relationship, but even though everybody thinks of me as the free spirit, it was Elsa who decided we should begin taking walks through the kingdom, hand-in-hand. At first, we got a few stinkeyes, but little by little, they saw we were happy, and not hurting anyone with our taboo love, and… it just became normal, I guess.

Which is fantastic! I mean, if they didn't I would have bought a whole collection of lutes to start smacking them with, but that didn't turn out to be necessary. Good thing; a co-queen shouldn't brawl with her subjects. Looks kinda bad.

As we hit the middle of December and the weather was turning colder without my sister's influence, I started scheming. We had enjoyed four wonderful months of getting to know each other all over again. Even though I'm basically a big ball of libido, somehow Elsa convinced me that we shouldn't just start banging each other's brains out every day. How dare she! But I have to admit, having that sex-free courtship time was somehow a magic all its own.

Because we were behind. By thirteen years. I found out just how well-read my sister was, since she had ploughed through book after book when she wasn't trying to practice controlling her magic. That was something we had in common, since I was often equally bored; it turned out we had read a lot of the same books, and we could compare our thoughts and feelings about them over many, many cups of tea. She never did start talking to paintings like I did, but when I introduced them to her, at least she was bemusedly giggling behind her hand instead of openly mocking me, or telling me I needed medical attention. And we went horseback riding, and swimming, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Started going through our parents' things at last, painful though it was. Learned about the kind of adults we had become since we last knew each other as children.

And kissed, sure. Just because we didn't start rolling around in the bed sheets right away didn't mean I was going to let us be complete prudes.

However… my sister's birthday was fast approaching, and I knew I had to do something big. Maybe in a literal sense. So the scheming turned to plotting, and the plotting turned to planning. And then the plans got put in motion leading up to her big day.

                                                      ~ o ~

"Alright, alright, Olaf! I'm going!"

"Sorry, Elsa, but there's no time to waste!" I could hear him replying to her from the other side of the door. I could just barely see her slippered feet and his snow stumps through the crack underneath. So weird doing that from the inside this time… "I guess. I've never had a birthday, but Anna told me this is your biggest one yet, and we got a schedule to keep!"

"Okay, little guy," she laughed at him easily. Even though I couldn't see, I could just picture her petting over his head. "Thank you."

"Yep! And oh, I was supposed to do something else, it was… yeeeessss! Anna told me I should 'get lost for the rest of the day'. So I guess my question is, does that mean until sundown? Or midnight? And how lost do I have to get? I can get lost just in this castle, it's so big, but she was pointing at the gates when she said it…"

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay Kristoff and Sven a visit? That should be far enough."

"But I won't be lost if I know where I'm going," he told her in a patient tone, as if she were the one who was missing something instead.

"My mistake," she laughed fondly. "Just have a little adventure outside of the castle and we will see you in the morning."

"Okie-dokie! Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do! Or do, because you're not me, so you should be doing things I wouldn't do? Maybe? Especially if I'm going to be getting lost and you don't need to be lost. I don't know if that's exactly…"

He was still talking by the time his voice started to fade around the corner. The rest of the sentence was cut off by Elsa knocking on my door.

"Go away, Elsa," I called back at her in an exaggeratedly pouty tone.

"Anna," she sighed. "Yes, I know I was the one saying that to you for a decade of our lives, but this joke is starting to get a little old now."

"Whaaaaaat? No, I don't think so."

"It's officially old as of today. Now, may I come in, or will you be coming out?"

"Think we both already did that last part," I giggled. "Did you, um, prepare?"

"For the love of- yes! Though I don't know why, I let Gerda bathe me thoroughly, and now I am standing outside your door, scrubbed raw and regretting that I listened to her, because you are being a pain in the-"

She didn't finish that thought because I unlocked the door just then. But I didn't open it for her. I was too busy scampering across the floor of my chambers to stand by the bed, grinning from ear-to-ear like a loon. And don't judge, okay? I'd been planning this for a long time.

"Um…" The door creaked open, and one of her baby blues peered around the inside of the darkened room. The sun had already set, so it was only the moonlight and the single candle on my bedside table providing illumination. "A-Anna?"

"Please enter," I said in a pretentiously royal tone.

"Oh, your robe is like mine," she said with a small smile as she eased the door shut behind her.

"Yep! Silk, from the East! I mean, you fill yours out a little better — especially up top. But that's one of the gifts. And I figured, hey, might as well get one for me, too!"

Barely glancing down at the blue silk covering her sizable assets, she shook her head with a small laugh. "It's very nice, thank you. But I thought I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal about my birthday; we should be focused on the Yule festivities for the kingdo-"

"No, no, no," I teased her with a wave of my index finger, bouncing on my heels excitedly. "This is the first time in thirteen years I have been able to celebrate this with you. Give me this one, okay?"

"When can we stop saying the number thirteen and start really enjoying our lives again?"

"When it's been fourteen years. Now… can you take that robe off and hop up on the bed for me?"

Oh, that shrewd little smirk that blossomed on my sister's face. It was both breathtakingly beautiful and super sexy. She was all the time, anyway, but there were moments that it stood out a lot more. "Ahhhh. So that's what all this is about, is it? You think tonight we are going to break our courtship."

"Mmmmaybe. But even if we don't, I still want more with you tonight. If that's okay," I added hastily, fidgeting with my hands behind my back.

"I see." Elsa stepped forward to smooth her hands up and down the green silk covering my chest, teasing her fingernails over my neck. Definitely not making it any easier to stop my lady parts from launching a hostile takeover of my brain, I can tell you! "And… this is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." Clearing my throat, I said, "And I understand why courting was important to you. And it's been great! Really, I loved getting to know you all over again, and we have been having so much fun. But… maybe just a little playing tonight? Please?"

As she glared across into my eyes, I brought my thumb and forefinger up between our faces, half an inch apart. That was all it took to make her burst out laughing.

"That little, hmm?" she finally chuckled as my cheeks burned. "Okay. I assume once I am in position, you will tackle me on this bed?"

"Yeah. Well, not 'tackle', but I'll join you. I just want you to feel how soft it is first."

That got Elsa's eyebrows raising in slight surprise. "Soft, hm? Did you get yourself a new bed for my birthday?"

"I dunno, did I?" I gasped. Hoping my acting skills were at least good enough to hide how excited I was.

Not quite. But at least Elsa hadn't fully figured out my cunning scheme. She pointed at my face and hissed under her breath, "There had better not be anyone hiding in here."

"Hiding? Wait, why would I stick anybody else in here and then tell you to take off your clothes?"

"How should I know? Sometimes you have a really strange sense of humour, Anna."

"Not that strange! Surprise creepy people sounds plain old mean!" But before she could say anything else, I placed a hand over my heart and raised the other one. "I do hereby solemnly pledge that nobody is going to jump out of the wardrobe at you. Or anything else like that."

"Fine, I believe you," she laughed as she stepped from her slippers and let the silk fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back. Even now that we had been going for walks and rides, she was still white as alabaster, despite the alternating tans and sunburns I had.

"Mmm…"

"Again, my birthday seems to be full of gifts for you," she accused playfully with a little glance over her shoulder at me as she approached the bed, moving to climb atop it. "Little pervAAAHHH?!"

SPLAT.

Nope, I definitely couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my middle and burst out into gales of laughter, shaking all over and trying my best not to fall down. "ELSA! Your face — you should see your face!"

"I'm- what is- ANNA!" my poor sister finally burst out as she slipped and slid everywhere, defiling all my hard work. "What is the meaning of this?! What IS this, where did- is this CAKE?!"

Cackling and bouncing up and down as I clapped my hands, I finally crowed, "YES! Isn't it incredible?! Doesn't it look just like my bed? I mean, it did before you jumped on it, but even still, the rest of it!"

God, she looked hilarious. I was laughing, but was doing my best not to actually point at Elsa while I did it. And anyone would have laughed; her face covered in so much chocolate and frosting, a huge chunk falling from her chin to splash onto her right breast even while she blinked at me in wonder. Never had our regal queen looked so un-regal.

"You… made… a bed-sized cake… just to play this prank on me." She scraped some of the frosting from her eyelids and flicked it away, turning slightly so she could kneel on the layers of confection. That only made me laugh so hard I snorted like a pig. "This is… I have no words. I literally have no words, I could never have anticipated this."

"Aww, don't be grumpy," I teased breathlessly as I got rid of my own robe, dropping it right next to hers. "Just because I got you good this time! You freaked out, it was the most amazing thing I've watched in my whole life!"

"Yes, well, the show is ov- Anna, what are you doing now? Don't tell me- are you going to jump into this cake with me?! That's insane!"

I hesitated. "Well… I was before you called it 'insane'…" But then I approached the edge of the bed, hands on my hips. No way was I going to chicken out that easily. "This wasn't just a prank. I really wanted to do this for you."

That finally got her to laugh, and when she started she found it hard to stop. I laughed with her, watching her slap her caked thigh a few times. But before I could join her on the bed, she suddenly breathed, "Insane… but beautiful. I've never seen a woman more lovely in the entire world."

My heart skipped over a beat, and I hoped she couldn't tell how hard my nipples were in the low light. "Ahhhhh, now you're just lying. We both know you own a mirror."

"Nice try," she laughed, biting her sugar-coated lip for a moment to weather my counter-compliment. Then she tilted her head slightly while asking, "Why? This is the strangest surprise I have ever received — and that includes that certain birthday of yours. But I can tell it means a lot to you, so could you help me…?"

Great. Now I had to actually face the music, and it was going to take a lot of exposing of feelings. So I took a deep breath before throwing my inhibitions to the wind... and letting my knees sink into the cake.

"That is so wrong," I groaned, feeling one of my eyes twitch.

"I know. But once you get used to it, it's… still wrong, but interesting." She was leaning slightly on one arm, moving her legs out to one side. Always so ladylike, even in a big mound of baked sweetness.

"So here it is," I sighed. "You and me, even when we were really little… chocolate was our soft spot. We could never resist it. And especially after my birthday, when we bonded over it again… I knew your birthday had to be something big, since I could finally celebrate it with you. Something that mattered to both of us. And fun! I thought fun was really important, too. Took me a while to figure out just how I wanted to do this, but once I had this idea, I just… I knew. This was the only thing that would be good enough."

Though she had been listening with a small smile, my last sentence wiped it away. Why? What did I say wrong? Her cake-slicked hand lifted to caress my cheek.

"Anna, anything would have been good enough. Even if this had turned out to be a normal bed, I would have been so happy. How much you spend, how much you plan these gifts, it's sweet but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Don't you know my favourite gift is you?"

My lips only got the chance to part very slightly — when she booped me. She booped my nose with frosting on that finger. The Queen of Arendelle, everybody.

"You little stinker." But her words kept me from retaliating. "You… you mean that, huh? That I'm enough?"

"I do." Her lips pecked mine. "You always have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to show you until these past few months. But now, I get to make up for lost time."

Sliding closer, I whispered, "Same here."

And that was as far as I could get before I was attacking her mouth. Elsa welcomed me gratefully, humming as she pulled my body closer. I knew she was getting cake all over me, but I had kind of resigned myself to that when I concocted this whole crazy scheme. Literally concocted.

Which was what she asked about next. "How long did this take to bake?"

"Oh, a couple of days. The trick was keeping the parts we already made fresh so they wouldn't spoil before we finished the rest of it. Kristoff helped me with that, grabbed me a few blocks of ice; normally I would ask you to do it with a little magic, but I mean, since it was a surprise for you that would have been pretty stupid."

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled, rubbing her fingertips against each other experimentally. "Smooth frosting… buttercream?"

"Of course! And I wanted to add a bunch of berries, but then it wouldn't have looked like my bed, because I don't normally have a bunch of berries on it." While Elsa laughed again, I slipped my arms around her waist. "And yeah, I know you still think it's weird I wanted to be in a cake like this. Plus it's a big waste of food. But for just this one birthday, the first one since we reunited, I wanted to give you something so big it was literally all around us. Like we're part of the cake instead of just the other way around."

Her voice was so gentle and warm when she responded, "I believed you the first time, Anna. But thank you for elaborating. I love knowing how you think, how your mind works. My amazing, clever sister."

Again, we kissed, deeper and longer and with no inhibitions. We tried to restrain ourselves when we were out in public, of course, but alone in my room? Nobody looking over our shoulders? Free as wild horses.

By the time we came up for air, I was no longer the clean one because we had been rolling around in the cake-bed. Sure, I still felt guilty for putting the castle cooks through so much work just so we could wreck it, but at least Kristoff and I gave them a hand — and I gave them the day off once they were through. Anyway, basically the only places where chocolate and frosting hadn't accumulated multiple layers was our faces, because they were so close to each other that nothing could get in between them.

"Are we supposed to be eating any of this?" Elsa laughed, running her finger through some on my shoulder.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have done this if it was just for show; this might as well have been a big frosted mud pie." Then I held up…

"Anna, where could you possibly have been hiding that?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elsa merely blinked at me for a few seconds until I caved. "Okay, I had it in my butt."

"What- that sounds incredibly painful!"

"No, no, I was just clenching my cheeks on the handle. Obviously! Like I used the handle outside your door that first time. Come on, do you really think anybody would stick the pointy part into anywhere that sensitive?"

"Well, it is you," she laughed as she reached for the fork. Our fork. "Though I suppose I admire the control you have over your muscles back there." Then she hesitated, her brow furrowing. I could figure out what was holding her back.

"I also took one of Gerda's very thorough baths," I informed her to put her fears at ease. Which made her finally take it with a slight shake of her head. "Oh — and I helped one of the servants mop the floor before we got started in here. Trust me, when I say you can eat off the floor, I really mean it this time."

"You really have thought of everything; such attention to detail. It's almost a little scary."

"Love makes you a little scary sometimes, I guess."

"I guess." Then she slid the fork through some of the cake that we hadn't already rolled in, bringing it up to my lips. "After you."

"Oh! Wait… you first, it's your birthday."

"Diving into it counted as me going first," she chuckled. "Besides, I tasted a little on your lips once they caught some from my lips. Go on." And since I had no argument against that, and she was looking at me with those bemused, insistent eyes, I took the bite into my mouth.

"Ohmyghob, ibzo goob!"

"Anna, manners." Which I could appreciate the irony, since there were very little manners involved in rolling around in a giant cake. Probably. Maybe they do that more often in Corona…

"You have GOT to try this," I gushed once I had swallowed, grabbing the fork and scooping up another big bite for my sister.

"Can't I have a different fork?" But I wasn't budging. And she knew how important that particular utensil was to the both of us. "Gerda bathed you the same way she bathed me, didn't she?"

"It was like standing in a geyser."

"Fine." She accepted her first proper bite. Her blue eyes slid closed in ecstasy as she hummed her approval, eventually nodding after she had chewed for a moment.

"Amazing, right?" All she did was nod, raising a hand to give the okay symbol. So I helped myself to another bite, clutching my hand to my chest as tears welled up in my eyes.

Seriously, it was that good. Best cake I ever had in my life, up to and including the one with my sister's extra frosting.

"Okay," Elsa panted a couple minutes later when we had eaten our fill for the moment. "I was teasing you before, but I take it all back; I do want to live here and sleep here."

"Surrounded by layers of chocolatey goodness?" I giggled as I flopped onto my back, spread eagle in piles of sweet perfection. It was like Heaven, or Valhalla or whatever you believe is the good afterlife.

"Exactly. Fun and function." I glanced over to see she was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow so she could look down at me with a smile full of so much affection that my heart skipped a beat. "So very you."

At first all I did was chuckle a little and smile up at her. But then when she leaned down to kiss my chest, I let my eyes fall closed as a little sigh escaped my lips. "Mmm…"

"You were after something like this, I believe?"

Opening my eyes again, I was just in time to see her tongue slide across the meat of my right breast, the one closest to her. The track of freckled skin she revealed by cutting through the chocolate confection gleamed from her saliva, and it was somehow both offensive and arousing at the same time.

"Y-yeah. Something like that." I cleared my throat and caressed along her back, through cake and hair. "But you don't have to. If that whole courting thing is so-"

"We can take a break," she interrupted with an impish smile. "One night, for both Yule and my birthday. And for you, because I know how hard it has been to keep your hands off me."

A blast of air exploded from my lungs as she licked again. "HAH! W-wow, somebody's conceited in here, and I think her name rhymes with… with, uh…"

"With what? Jelsa?"

"No, that's not a thing."

I was still trying to think of a rhyme for her name when she found my nipple, and my squeal blasted every thought out of both of our minds. My chest was a feast for my sister for the moment as my conscious thoughts faded, simply letting her enjoy me. Because I enjoyed it just as much. A few times, she hit the nerves just right that I twitched, digging my nails briefly into her back and making her hiss in response. Some extra added fun.

Then she started moving down my stomach. I knew where she was going; this wasn't our first time trying this particular activity. But the butterflies were as fresh as ever, and my thighs tried to trap her head there.

"Oh, not tonight?" she purred.

"Reflex," I panted shortly, trying not to laugh at the cake all over her face now. Because even though it was funny, it also wasn't… since she was about to go to town on me.

Oh, she did. She really, really did — and it blew my mind so much more this time, somehow. Maybe it was because for the past few months, I only had that fork handle for company in my bed. Being pent up and needy tends to make the release ten times stronger, you know.

"Elsa!" I whined after a few hours. Okay, it was probably a minute or two, but it felt like so long! "You're really… how did you… get this good?!"

By the time she came up for air to answer me, she was gripping my ass cheeks to hold my pelvis closer to her face. "You're worth trying my best for, Anna. And… I may have practiced on an ice-replica." When I laughed at that, a frosting-smeared eyebrow arched. "Ooh…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Your backside is so firm, and I felt it flexing in my hands. Powerful."

"Y-yeah, I exercise a lot. Could probably pick up a gold coin with it."

"Really?" I felt her poking around back there, and I clenched — again, reflex. "Wow. Do you think… you could squeeze this?"

Before I had any chance to ask a question or protest, I felt a finger sliding between my cheeks. What in the fjord was Elsa doing?! It felt wrong, and disturbing… and hot? Was it hot somehow?! Maybe, but only because it was her, and she had already been going down on me, I'm pretty sure; if anybody else had tried that, especially when I wasn't already chomping at the bit to get off, their hand would be kindling for the fireplace in the corner.

So don't let anybody tell you Elsa is a prude who would never do anything like that. That whole regal facade is just a smoke screen. She can get just as wild as me.

"Wow, your muscles really are strong," Elsa breathed in honest surprise, not just teasing me. "I'm impressed."

Freya, I tried so hard to hold it together. To control my reaction. But as she dragged her finger back from my crack, brushing the little forbidden spot that I had been trying not to think about, I shivered and let out a little moan. Dooming myself.

"Anna?"

"Yes! I m-mean, hello, yeah, you can… you can start back in on the goods now! Remember my goods? Right there in front of you?"

"No, wait. Did you enjoy…?" Probably trying to spare me some embarrassment, she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her frosting-covered finger and flexed it in my field of vision.

"Oh, did I really get cake in there, too? Sheeze, we've really been going crazy!"

My nervous laughter made it way too obvious I was just trying to distract my sister. Why was I so bad at that sometimes? She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then glanced at the finger, then back at me.

"Anna-"

"Please, can we not-"

"Anna, it's okay. If you want me to leave that alone, I will; I was only asking how you felt about it. That's all."

Though her words didn't dial back my embarrassment, it soothed away the anxiety spike. "Oh. Well… no, I didn't mind that much. Not really. It's just because… like, after all you've been doing to my clit and tits, I'm kind of sensitive… everywhere. So it was pretty interesting, but I would never ask you to do it again! That's too big a favour!"

Elsa thought that over for a moment, and I finally started to relax. Then she kissed my inner thigh. "Just relax, my love. My Lord Anna." I groaned, thinking back to the coronation ball. Even though it all worked out okay. "I'll take care of you. And all you have to do is ask, and I will stop or change what I am doing. You can always talk to me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, completely relieved. My queen was so sweet to me, always taking care of me as much as she could. Making me feel safe.

Well, I did feel a little less safe when she started kissing closer to my behind. And then when I felt two thumbs pulling the cheeks apart, I wriggled all over and gasped out, "WHOA! Elsa, are you- you're not gonna-"

"Just going to try to get the cake in here," she laughed softly. "Unless you have objections."

Did I? The whole thing was too weird to have any objections. And while I was still trying to come up with one, I felt that wriggling tongue press somewhere I had never wanted or needed it to go. Was Elsa really doing this? She really didn't mind? We did enough wrong and taboo things already that this just seemed like one step too far! But the way she was going at my ass suggested she didn't agree.

And it was… different. Not good, not bad; just unsettling even while it was stimulating. When she was still at it a minute later with no signs of stopping, one of my hands started trailing the handle of that trusty fork down my stomach. Maybe, if I could take care of the main attraction, a little sideshow in the back room wouldn't be so bad.

"Mm?" she hummed, tongue still sliding over my taut skin. She must have seen my fingers moving, because she drew back with a chuckle. "Oh, did you need me to move along?"

"Y-yeah, Elsa, I… we could try that again later, but right now I'm…"

With a solemn nod, she went right back to going down on me. Who could complain about a girlfriend like that? Just takes care of my needs without any complaint. What an angel.

"Oh ffff- MMM!" Yeah, I had to scream into my hand to let out some of my energy. Luckily, it wasn't the one holding the fork or I might have stabbed myself in the face. A minute later, I gasped, "Elsa! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

My sister did not slow down until I actually was there. It felt like she had six tongues instead of two — which she might actually have been able to pull off if she used her ice powers, but I didn't feel her mouth get any colder. I came so hard and shook all over, and the whole time Elsa just held onto my hips and devoured me like I was the best cake she had ever tried. Which was probably how she felt.

Once my heat faded, she lowered me into the cake again and smirked. "That happened awfully quickly for someone who didn't like me playing with her a little lower than usual."

"Y-yeah! Well… you… let me get pent up for multiple months!"

"That is fair. I hope my apology was satisfactory."

Pretending to think real hard about it, I screwed up my face and tapped my chin. Elsa laughed. "Weeeeeelllllllllll… on one condition."

"What condition?" She started when I moved to pin her to the bed. "Oh!"

"This one." My chosen target was her neck. She shivered a little when I ran my tongue along it, enjoying the rich chocolate mixing with the light purity of her skin. I wanted to eat Elsa whole.

"Anna… you… make it hard to breathe."

"Elsa…"

"N-no, I… I'm really-!"

With a shock, I realized she meant the way my hand was pushing into the middle of her abdomen. "OH! Shit, Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" As she took a deep breath, I caressed her side. "Better? Man, I am just really dumb sometimes…"

Elsa pulled me down into her embrace. "We already covered that. You are not dumb. You have never been dumb."

"You sure? I mean, not that I'm trying to argue with you, but you keep saying that and then I keep doing dumb things."

"Because you're excited. I am, too; I've just had a lot more practice... controlling myself."

For good reason. But since she wasn't judging me, I pushed myself back up to begin devouring the cake covering her ribs and stomach. She giggled a couple of times, and I smiled at the way her abdominal muscles flexed under my lips, bumping up against my nose. I could have kept eating off her and exploring her for hours and never got bored. Not once.

"Mmhhh, this really is so good," I sighed as I got closer and closer to the finish line. "The cake, you… who could ask for more?"

"I'm glad you… approve." But I could tell she was nervous. Why? It's not like this was the first time we had done anything like this; just the first in a little while.

"Elsa?" She didn't answer right away. Watching her bite her lip and look anxious was cute, but I still prompted her, "Hey. You okay?"

"What? Oh… yes, I'm fine." My face must have looked extra unconvinced, because a second later, she relented. "I'm still a little afraid of losing control of my powers when I…"

"When you what? Oh, wait, you're- right, got it, you don't need to explain. But hey, even when you've done that before, all you did was give me a little extra blast of snow. I don't mind a cold cake."

Tittering the slightest amount, despite the fear in her eyes, she reached down to run her fingers through my sugar-matted fringe. "Neither of us do. And I know you're probably right, but I can't help but worry I will hurt you for a third time. I don't think I could take that."

"Me, either. But you won't. I hear you, I do, but I know you have a handle on this now. You've been doing so good! Nobody in Arendelle is scared of you anymore. So just… let me do the magic this time."

That was that. Even though she was still biting her lip, her brow still creased, she didn't protest further as I kissed the inside of her thigh, devouring the frosting I found there. But I still didn't like that she was wound up so tight. So I figured hey, why not try to loosen her up?

"So, if I get a couple of fingers in you and really start going to town… does that make this pound-cake?"

Oh, now she looked mad. I barely had enough time to register the movement before her foot was pushing into my face, trying to shove me off the bed entirely.

"Hey, whoa whoa, Elsa! Come on, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded in a would-be stern voice. The answer might have been because I was laughing up a storm. But I caught sight of her smile, which told me she was just trying to mess around with me. One of the many things I had been missing over the past thirteen years.

"Truce! I'll keep my corny jokes to myself if you don't shove me the rest of the way off this bed!" Really, I already had to whip one leg back and brace against the floor to keep from falling as it was. But she slowly began to relent. "Thank you."

"I ought to put my finger back in your 'fork holder' for that one," she grunted.

"It was one time! I don't go around carrying forks back there all the time, you know!"

"Actually, no, I don't know that. Because I never inspect the back of your dress when you are casually walking down the halls."

"You could, though…" As she just shook her head at me, I decided to get a little more playful.

"AH! Not my feet — don't bite my feet, you know how ticklish iyyyahahahhaaaa!"

Too late. My teeth were nibbling all over her chocolatey toes in retaliation for almost being knocked on my butt. The way she began kicking was extremely dangerous, but at least now my childhood memories were intact; I remembered learning by watching our father that you had to hold her leg steady when you tickled her, or you were asking for an eyeful of flailing heel.

"STOP!" she cackled. "I'm- I am about to ruin this cake! Anna!"

Right away, I broke off with a laugh. No matter how much fun I was having, it wasn't worth ruining an entire cake-bed by making her wet herself. "Okay, okay. Yellow frosting is as bad as yellow snow, I guess."

"You… monster!" But she was still laughing a little, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in an attempt to regain her breath. Which looked like she had been doing something else.

Flawless. I was head over heels, alright.

"Sorry. But do you know how cute you are when you get tickled?"

Clearing her throat, she pushed up onto her elbows before answering me. "That is… because I didn't get to run around outside the way you did. Not after my ninth birthday. So my feet are…"

Oh. Well that was a sad reason for them to be extra sensitive. But I decided to simply kiss the one I had been attacking and say, "Perfect. You were gonna say 'perfect' right? Because that's the only answer I'm accepting right now."

Shaking her head a little at me, she let out an exasperated sigh that was followed by a small smile. "You're too kind to me."

"Nah. Just know you deserve the best."

Again, I kissed, and she hummed as her smile grew. When my lips parted to let my tongue slide between two of her toes, she rolled her eyes and pulled her foot away. "Fine, I get it, you love every inch of me."

"Glad we got that straightened out. Now, I have my eye on a couple of pastries… one sec."

Her hand raised up to rest on the back of my head when I attacked her chest. I figured she would probably appreciate having some time to recover before I went back between her thighs. The sounds floating out of her lungs were every bit as enthralling as if I had gone straight for the crux of her thighs, of course, but at least this way I could enjoy my cake a little longer.

"You are… so persistent." I switched to the other peak, my hand wrapping around the mountain below and kneading just enough to add pressure and pleasure without causing pain. "Mmmhh, and I almost want to ask if you have been practicing on someone else!"

"Maybe I made an ice-replica," I shot at her as I moved back down. Her grin was so huge. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's do this."

"You make it sound like you're about to go cliff-diving!" she laughed.

"Oh, I am. I'm about to dive down deep into your sound."

Elsa's lips parted, probably to reprimand me for another corny line. But all that came out was a moan when I pressed my mouth tightly against her soft folds through the frosting and chocolate. And I intended to clean every speck of that from her by the time I was finished.

My Elsa. My queen of snow and ice, grace and beauty and power. The only woman in the world. My mind and heart were full of desire for the goddess I was making writhe with my every teasing touch. And it wasn't just that she was the most beautiful girl in Arendelle, not that she had given me an orgasm so recently. This was about way more than repaying a debt or physical beauty; it was my sister. The one person who had always been a part of me, and who always will.

"A-Anna!" she gasped — well, she had been doing that for a couple of minutes, but this one was louder and stronger. Somehow, I just knew what she meant. "I'm… I'm still scared! I love you!"

I loved her, too. But I wanted to show her in some way besides slowing down to tell her with words. So I moved one hand from her hip to push our fork into hers, which had been clutching uselessly at another pile of birthday cake. And wow, did she respond! My hand was caught with the fork between our fingers, and it was such a tight grip that I felt like she would never let me go again.

Which did as much for me as I might have been doing for her.

There was more snow this time. Somehow, I had kind of expected that; I mean, when you tell an ice witch that she shouldn't hold back with her power, you're going to get more power. Makes sense, right? But even while I was still feeling her flesh pulse against my lips and tongue, her juices running down my chin, tiny pinpricks of cold were dusting my back in the spots that weren't covered by chocolate.

"Oh," I panted when I finally came up for air, satisfied that she no longer needed little licks for little aftershocks. "Snow! See? I told you everything would be fine. And this isn't even that bad!"

Though of course, we were both looking around at the winter wonderland filling the room. It was only a couple of inches deep, but spread over that large an area it still added up to a decent amount.

"It's… a lot," she panted. "But at least there aren't any… nothing dangerous."

Scoffing, I crawled up to lay my head on her shoulder, curling my entire body around hers as tightly as I could. Needing to be that close to her now. "Dangerous? You? Come on, you're a big pussycat."

"We both know… that's… a stretch." Finally, she cleared her throat and simply took in a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn't be so winded. Then she turned to look into my eyes with a smile full of afterglow and affection. "Thank you. For that, for all of this; for my perfect birthday night."

"Yeah. You got it. I'm always going to show you how much I love you, no matter how big I have to go to get the point across."

"Anna, you don't have to. I already know." We shared a firm kiss. Then she crinkled her nose. "Oh, that's… did you really enjoy me adding that to your cake? It's so strange."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't know what it was," I admitted with a giggle. "But knowing? Oh yeah. Totally hot."

"If you say so." Then she suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no — my lips have- you were kissing-"

"All I tasted was Sister-Queen and cake," I headed her off before she actually said it out loud. "Don't have to make it even more gross. Seriously, you didn't run away from my butt? I thought that would be a fate worse than death!"

"No, no," she reassured me, completely contented now that we had both enjoyed ourselves and could relax. "I wasn't lying for your benefit; it wasn't that bad. Especially when mixed with chocolate cake. Though I agree with you about my essence on this subject; probably wouldn't have enjoyed it not knowing what it is, or by itself. Well…"

Running my index fingertip in small circles on her stomach, I prompted, "Well?"

"I could try it by itself. Maybe. Someday."

"Go ahead. I won't… well, I might judge a little, but since we're already sisters who knock boots, it's not gonna hold a lot of water."

"Mmhmm. I suppose that's a valid point."

"Ohhhhh, I just wanna lay here forever!" I burst out as I curled even harder around Elsa, and she laughed again, nuzzling into my hair. "Though I do have another bath ready in the next chamber. I'm no doctor, but it's probably not the best idea for us to leave cake in some of the places we have cake right now."

Nodding, she whispered, "In a minute. This is so comfortable. Actually, I'm surprised we're not sinking all the way down to the floor."

"Oh — yeah, that's because we took a bed-sized wooden box and made the cake on top of that. Like, it's pretty much a bunch of little cakes smushed together in a grid pattern to make one huge sheet cake, and then we just put the icing all over it and down the sides with the right colours and patterns. So it looked like a real bed, with a quilt and all."

"Clever," she chuckled, scratching at my rib cage just enough to prompt a giggle from me before she stopped. "Really, I was flabbergasted at first, but now I really admire all the work you did for this. Because it turned out to be a lot of fun."

Her praise made my heart glow. "It did, didn't it? Chocolate cake slumber party. Go me."

We both fell into the kind of comfortable silence you can only have with family. Lover, sister, friend… Elsa was all of those things to me. And we had beaten all the odds and found our way back to each other, and we were alive, and our lives were wonderful. There wasn't much else I could ask for.

"I love you, my Anna," she breathed into my hair before rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow and look at me. I mirrored the gesture, gazing into her eyes.

"Love you, too, Majesty. And I always will."

Elsa kissed me hard and long, and held me close for such a long time that time itself ceased to hold meaning. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill anniversary of being born, but I finally knew: what we had? Different-good. The best kind of different a princess could ask for.

                                                      ~ Takk for Reisen ~

[radstronaut]

And This is How I See You | Sebastian Aho

this work is inspired by Serendipitous by @lulucanwrite warnings: n/a  word count: 3490 note: this is a gift for @lulucanwrite​ and basically serves as a prequel/spinoff/inspiration from Serendipitous, which is one of the sweetest stories ever. it reads like an imagine fic, but really it’s a lovely little story about two people who have loved each other forever and who will always love each other, featuring pining, friends to lovers, reconnections after many years apart, some found family feels, and a healthy dose of soft angst. highly recommend because it is extremely good. this is an imagining of the two in her story, the year that the main character leaves for America, and Sebastian knows he has to say goodbye, but doesn’t know how to say “I love you,” or maybe, actually, he does.  (title inspiration from Sarah McLachlan’s Wintersong)

“We still have to get our tree and visit dad,” she says, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I’m just not sure.”

“Please? I want to go throw snowballs at windows. Like when we were little. Come with me, one last time,” Sebastian implores. His face is twisted, trying not to show any of the emotions brewing deep within his belly, trying not to let any of his feelings towards her spill out with every word that tumbles from his lips.

Everything is laced with the knowing that this is their last Christmas together. Even the cups of coffee neatly placed on the table between them suddenly feel less warm. Sebastian can feel the time slipping away from them the longer they both sit there.

She seems to consider the proposition but she is stoic. Sebastian can’t read her. She thins her lips and pulls her cup of coffee to them, drawing in a long sip. Sebastian realizes that he’s holding his breath when she sets her cup down, looks up to the ceiling and back down, then speaks.

“Okay,” she says softly, still wavering and unsure. “But I need to be back in time to pick a tree with my mom.”

He cracks a smile at her agreement, brown eyes lighting up, and continues to push his luck. “What if we pick a tree and bring it for her, what do you think?”

“She will want me home soon,” she sighs, a small frown forming on her lips. “We’re supposed to spend the day together.”

“It’s not even ten,” Sebastian counters. He is determined to suck the marrow out of their last Christmas together and he’s been planning each detail meticulously for a few weeks now. Plus, he may or may not have already run it by her mom, but he wants to keep it a surprise, so he adds, “And I think your mom will be okay with it.”

Her eyes narrow, and she draws the mug of coffee to her lips like a seasoned veteran at only thirteen. God, Sebastian thinks, she has already lived an entire life in her eyes. It’s as if it has taken it all out of her, watching her dad get sicker and sicker, and then… well, yeah. He can’t even imagine that word, it feels too foreign. But he does know that losing her father changed her.

He remembers a time, back when they were younger, that her eyes would sparkle and her laughter would fill the room. Now, her laugh is maybe fewer, further between; she measured and guarded. But those moments where she lets her guard down completely, throwing her head back and laughing, filled his heart with joy. Each time she laughed, his heart felt softer and softer towards the world. It was her laugh. That’s how he knew.

“What do you mean, you think she’ll be okay with it?”

She tosses a lock of brown hair over her shoulders with a free hand, carefully gripping her mug with the other while she does so. Sebastian watches, his lips curling upwards into a telling smile. “Nothing,” he says plainly.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” she lifts a brow. The mug thuds dully against the table of the coffee shop as she sets it down.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” he retorts, a little stupidly, pursing his lips before immediately bursting out laughing, and she laughs, too, unable to control herself. “Okay, okay. She said I could steal you for a while, I asked.”

“Why would you--”

“Ah-ah,” he lifts a finger and waggles it back and forth. “No questions.”

“Wow,” she raises her hands in surrender. “Remember me when you’re famous.”

He grins, but doesn’t grace her with an answer. He stands and takes her now-empty mug to return and tosses her napkins in the trash for her, a silent gesture of both affection and nudging her along. She gathers her things into her little bag: a small notebook and pen, a napkin where she’s jotted something so fast that Sebastian can’t read it, and her wallet, which is navy blue and patterned with fading gold stars.

Christmas music plays softly in the background, a gentle jazzy rendition of Last Christmas, and right before they reach the door, Sebastian stops. The music envelops them, making the air feel warmer, the light in the spacious cafe a little more golden. Sebastian smiles as she looks at him, and she stops, too, and then reaches a hand towards his cheek. His heart flutters. She simply adjusts the scarf pulled around his neck, and reflects his smile. “It’s cold,” she says.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, as she slides past him and swings the door open. The cold air rushes in, and they step out together, Sebastian right behind her, as she turns around to face him.

“Where are we going?” And then, at the same time he opens his mouth to reply, “Right, you said no questions.”

He grins as he jumps and steps in front of her to lead the way, taking a leisurely pace as they head out into the open air. Flurries of snow float about as they stroll down the street, and a gentle silence falls upon the two of them. It’s always been this way. She and him were comfortable enough that they could sit quietly together for hours, her with a book in her lap and him scribbling his way through his math homework, or the two of them side-by-side, quietly watching TV. It was the sort of friendship where he never felt pressured to have something to say or worry about taking up space, because the way their presence mingled with each other was enough to take up that quiet space.

Before, he didn’t think about it at all. It was just a simple part of who they were together, the same way somebody liked pasta or the color blue. Now, he takes notice, carving out the feelings of every second spent quietly together in his mind. A part of him wonders if he will ever find a friendship like this again.

A part of him also knows that this isn’t friendship, and it hasn’t been for some time. The way they walk together in perfect sync reminds him of it. The comfortable silence whispers to him how much he loves her. His father would say, Son, you’re thirteen. You don’t know anything about love. He’s thirteen, sure, but he has never been more certain about anything in his life.

As they walk, he feels their fingers brush together. Normally he’d let the soft tingle of their bodies touch linger as a memory but today he grabs her gloved hand and holds it in his own, and she doesn’t resist. They settle like that as the snow from days past crunches underneath their feet, leaving their memory behind in a little trail of footprints, two sets right beside each other.

The town, too, is quiet, just like it so often is on the morning of Christmas Eve. Families are scrambling to decorate their trees and prepare meals, but here, the two of them walk quietly side by side through the center of town as if there’s nothing else in the world but them. Sebastian imagines his family hurrying about the house--his mother, especially, he can see her hard at work--and for a second a flash of guilt for not being home comes over him, but it’s gone as soon as he looks over at her, and she smiles back at him. He’ll be home later. It’s fine.

He tries to commit her gentle smile to his memory as he speaks. “If your mom wants, I can come help with the tree.”

“You should be with your family,” she replies so quickly, without even having to think. “Besides, she can handle it.”

“I know you both can handle it,” Sebastian says, “but I want to help, if you need.”

“I think that your own mom would be very upset if you weren’t home to help decorate your own tree. It’s fine, seriously.”

He hums to himself before responding, “All right.” And then, “But if you need anything, you know you can always ask.”

Her smile radiates with the gentle warmth of the hearth on a frozen day, loving and thankful. “Don’t worry. I know.”

He can’t help himself but to reply, “I know you know,” and then let a little laugh out through his nose. “But still.”

She’s quiet now, and so is he, but he remains unworried. They are past where the road is lined with shops and have started to come upon homes with lit windows standing against the dimness of wintry daytime and the steam of heaters or the smoke of fireplaces billowing from their roofs into a cloudy sky. Sebastian stops and turns to face her.

“What?” She asks, raising a brow quizzically.

He lifts a finger to his lips, raises a brow, and then leans down, scooping up a ball of snow in his hands and begins to pack the snow together. She opens her mouth and takes in a breath to say something, but before she can speak he’s packed the snow tightly and wound his arm back. Sebastian leans his whole body into his throw as he lets the snowball go and watches with childish delight as it bursts against one of the lit windows of a house.

“Sebastian!” She cries, but her look of judgement and surprise quickly dissipates into a fit of laughter as Sebastian, unbothered, bends down again and starts to pack another handful together and takes off running.

“Come on!” He yells at her, gesturing with his snowball-filled hand for her to run after her. “You can’t get caught!”

“That,” she huffs as she starts to jog behind him, “is so childish!”

“Don’t be lame,” he says as he turns around and backpedals, a smile splitting open across his face. He whirls around and once again uses the whole of his scrawny, adolescent body weight to chuck the densely-packed snowball at another house window. “Your turn!”

She frowns a little and rolls her eyes, but he knows that deep down it isn’t even a question for her, and he’s right, because she leans over faux-reluctantly and scoops up some of the powder and runs ahead of him, giggling as her gloved hands palm over the snow in her hands. She turns and lifts a leg, aiming for a window. Sebastian’s grin grows even further and then he’s hit square in the chest with her snowball before he can even process that she’s spun around to face him.

“Ha!” she bursts out, cackling, mouth wide with delight.

For a moment, he is completely stunned. Sebastian swears he can feel time stop right in that moment, with a chorus of her laughter mingling with the snow swirling softly in the air. Her mouth is wide open, and she’s grinning, eyes squinty and nose scrunched just a bit. Flakes of snow catch in her dark brown hair, and she clasps her hands gleefully in front of her chest.

He takes it all in, every single detail, because underneath their laughter, underneath the crunching snow and the powder of snow that’s spread across his chest, both of them know that this moment is decidedly a last. Their last Christmas, their last snowball fight, the last chance for him to make this something more.

And then, just like that, he snaps back to reality and is laughing, too, packing his own snowball together before hurling it at her as she dashes away from him and he follows behind. They go at it for a few blocks, gathering snow and making balls and pitching them as hard as they can at each other, until she heads into an open patch of untouched snow and flops herself down into its softness.

He flops down right beside her, breath leaving in tired puffs, the hot breath burning his throat in the cold of December, staring up at the grey-white sky and watching the slightly-darker snow swirl through the air.

“Thank you,” she says after a second, and he turns his head to look over at her. She meets his gaze with a pink-cheeked smile, and continues, “for helping me forget about everything.”

He stares at her, watching her breath leave in puffs of condensation in the air, pink lips parted slightly as her chest rises and falls. A strand of hair lays astray on her forehead, but she’s ignorant to it and to Sebastian it is just another sign of her beauty. She closes her eyes and sighs softly, and she’s so fucking beautiful he can barely breathe, or maybe he just can’t catch his breath because he’s been running, he can’t say. Either way, he lays there for a second, drinking her in, before he speaks. “Of course. Anytime.”

“I just… really appreciate you.”

Each word drips with more meaning than he can fathom into thoughts, much less words. The way her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. The pink of her cold nose. Her fingers laced together, laying across her chest. The way the sky is so pale and pastel and how the snow falls and the town is so quiet that they can hear the strange crystal drizzle as it lands on different surfaces.

Sebastian can feel the words he wants to say to her forming on his lips, and he draws in a breath to say them. Time slows down around them until it’s just the two of them, laying there in the snow. Nothing else but them. God, he knows this is his chance to say it. He meets her eyes and she smiles a smile so familiar to him that it has come to feel like home, and he feels those words on his tongue and on his lips, wanting to fall out.

He swallows. Takes in a breath. Then thins his lips, and smiles back at her. The air is thick with expectation, with the words he can think over and over in his head but just can’t bring himself to say.

“What?” she asks, a sparkle in her eyes. “You looked like you were about to say something.”

“Nothing,” he answers, breathy and hopeless. “I appreciate you, too.”

She responds with a thankful look and turns her head back so she’s staring straight up, watching the snow fall into her face. He does the same. He feels the moment slip away from them and instead of grasping on, he lets it go. Maybe he’s a coward who will never say it, but maybe there’s no point in telling her what they both already know.

They lay there in silence until finally, he stands up, and extends a hand to help her. She grabs on and stands. Her hand lingers. Sebastian doesn’t want to notice this, but his gaze drops to the pink of her lips and just as quickly he has dropped his eyes, he looks back up into her eyes, pulls his hand away, smiles an easy smile, and says, “Let’s get you home.”

She nods and they start off together, footsteps in sync. Sebastian can tell from observing their surroundings that they’re only a block or so from her home where her mother is already cooking a feast and waiting for her.

“This is our last Christmas together,” she says after a moment, her words a coming-to-terms. “It just doesn’t seem real.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m going to miss you so much, I don’t even know what to do.”

“It’s not forever.” But she bites her lower lip, an edge to her voice, because really, who can promise that? And he knows, too, that’s what she’s saying. She spent months saying goodbye to her dad, not knowing which goodbye kiss would be her last, and now Sebastian knows that you can’t ever bet on a goodbye as not the last.

But you also can’t bet any goodbye is the very last, either. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Sebastian grins. “Maybe you’re not hopeful, but I know I’ll find you. Even if it’s years from now, even if it’s when we’re twenty-six. I’ll just show up on your doorstep with a ring.”

She laughs out loud, a glorious, radiant laugh. Her eyes squint a bit and her nose scrunches slightly, and she tilts her head back. “I can’t believe you remember!”

“Of course I remember,” he laughs, “We’re basically betrothed, right?”

“Technically, it’s a marriage pact,” she says, shoving him in the side.

He giggles, playfully stumbling from her less-than-powerful shove. “Whatever you say!”

There is a pause as the laughter fades away. Then, she speaks.

“Promise me you’ll keep in touch?” Her voice is tiny, afraid.

“Okay, first of all, you’re not leaving tomorrow, so don’t be so dramatic,” Sebastian starts. “Second, you know I will. And you know we’ll see each other again. It’s not like you’ll never come back to Finland.”

“Or you can come to New York,” she says, hopeful. “I know we aren’t leaving tomorrow, but I had to say it sometime. I know I’m leaving. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Sebastian stops in his tracks, and turns, stepping in front of her, facing her now. His head tilts slightly to the side, and his dark brown eyes soften in the light of the snow. He takes her hands, squeezing gently, and says, “You can never lose me. I promise.”

Her hands squeeze back, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

He lingers there for a second, before turning back around to step beside her again. Her house has come into view, with warm lights on in the front room, and he knows she will be home soon. Unspoken words hang heavy on his tongue, but he knows that what he wants to say, he already has said, in an unspoken way.

“Hey, you two!” A voice calls from just ahead of them, and he sees her mom sticking her head out of the door. “You’re back just in time!”

“I told you I’d bring her back,” Sebastian quips as they reach the front of her house.

“And I thank you very much for that,” her mother answers. “Why don’t you come in? I just made a late breakfast.”

“No, thank you. I really have to get home to my family, too.”

“I can’t believe you let me go,” she says to her mom, making a face. “I know how sacred Christmas is to you.”

“That is exactly why I let you go,” her mother answers, then meets Sebastian’s eyes, giving a knowing smile.

“Okay, then,” she replies, then turns around, wraps her arms around him and pulls Sebastian in, hugging him tightly. She rests her chin on his shoulder, and he breathes in her hair and the smell of her and really takes note for the first time that she has a specific scent to her, and that it’s warm and it’s comfortable and it’s good. His hands clutch at the small of her back, and he leans his head slightly against hers.

It’s him who finally breaks their embrace, murmuring a quiet “love you” as he pulls away.

“Did you say something?” She asks as she meets his eyes again.

“Nothing,” he says, his features soft and a little bit sad. “I’ll see you after Christmas, yeah?”

“For sure,” she nods, and then wraps an arm around his side, giving him one last squeeze before stepping up and into the doorway.

He notices now that her mother has made herself busy somewhere else in the house, having disappeared in the last few seconds, and he adds, “And tell your mom it was good to see her, please?”

“Of course.” Then she steps inside, closes the door behind her, and he’s standing there, alone. Just him.

For the first time all day, he realizes how freezing cold it is, and involuntarily rubs at his arms. Despite the fact this isn’t a final goodbye, he can’t help but feel the tug of knowing that there is still something between them, that there is something unfinished, waiting for resolve. Does he regret that? He isn’t sure. What he knows is that walking away feels wrong, and staying put feels weirder. So he gathers himself, and steps to the side of their door, right in front of the window that is illuminated with a golden glow that is a little more light than the winter morning.

Sebastian raps his knuckles on the frame of the window, trying to get both her and her mother’s attention. The two of them turn their heads, and when he sees that both of them are looking at him, he steps backwards. Then, he bends down, picks up a pile of snow in his hands, and throws one final snowball at their window. For good measure.

[barcaavengers]

Letting Go || John Ambrose McClaren || Part 2

Note: Its hereeeeee! Was going to only do two parts but then saw the chance for some angst so here we go! Thank you all for your patience! Don't forget to leave some feedback and see if I post part three whiiiich I'm working on! Heads up to @noxceleste and @dreamingspark !

The weekend went awfully fast and you haven't spoken to John after your little stunt confessing your feelings and you weren't looking forward to seeing him at school. So you decided to skip a few days with an apparent headache and strong pains of your shark week, that's how you called your lady days. You didn't bother texting him either because you remember he was organizing the Belleview dance with Lara Jean. It was probably too overwhelming for him. He wasn't done processing that Lara Jean was dating Peter and you were already blurting out that you liked him. Go you, right?

Today was that ball and you were contemplating on going. He had invited you before the whole mess and he didn't take it back...but would it be worth it? What would you do? Be awkwardly there with a dress...Oh God, you had to wear a dress...Did you even want to? Did he want to see you now? Would it be too awkward between you two? Probably. Most definitely, but it would be worth it to either fix things or see how it goes...

You decide to go out and at least make an attempt to find a good dress, but nothing that screamed you tried too much. You weren't much of a dress up person and it would see way too off for you. Same for makeup, you used the least you could and that was how it was going to be when you got ready.

As you drive by the stores, you decide to stop at a small diner and find Peter sitting by himself sipping on a soda with some fries on the side.

"Hey" you wave awkwardly at him to get his attention.

"Oh, hey! Y/N, right?"

"That would be me" you nod your head with a smile. "Waiting for Lara Jean?"

"Nah, her and I…we…." you arch an eyebrow and he shakes his head, "its complicated."

"You wanna talk about it? It looks like its bugging you" you were doing it with the best intentions, not for any other reason. Peter seemed like an active person, and seeing him by himself in the diner and not expecting anyone seemed weird to you even when you only knew him for maybe three or four hours.

"It is" he says and looks up at you before gesturing to the chair before him. "I don't want to annoy you though. It might be awkward since we barely know each other."

"Yet we have a lot in common" you say and shrug. "You don't have to if you don't want to. It just looked like you needed a friend" you offer him a sincere smile and he smirks.

"That helpless I look?"

"Well, to my eyes you do, considering that the first and last time I saw you you were very talkative and smiley and now you are not. I was expecting some sass at first hand."

"Nah" he chuckles and slides his glass to the side. "It's just…I messed up with Lara Jean and I didn't know how to handle things," he explains. "Gen is my ex girlfriend and ever since I started dating Lara Jean she kept looking for me and I was hung over her for a while until I fell for Lara Jean" he continues and you eye him, confused. "Sorry, important detail, Covey and I started fake dating to get to Gen and her to avoid one of her old crushes and it turned...real after a few months."

"How romantic" you tease.

"So I left things clear with Gen, but Covey found out that I was waiting for Gen at this ski trip instead of her after we had a fight, and now she knows I went to see Gen recently but it wasn't for any bad reason. She is going through some things that I went through and Covey thinks I'm cheating on her and I am not."

"So I'm guessing that she found out about this all together, right?" He nods. "She is probably overwhelmed, you know? So many things being found out at once about something you were suspicious about is not easy to handle even if it happened a while back" you assure him.

"Yeah, I know….but then there is McClaren around. I figured that he likes her and she seems to be loving the idea of it…I mean, I'm not a good boyfriend, clearly, and McClaren seems to give her the kind of relationship she may want…"

"Wait, what?" You frown. "What do you mean he is giving her the relationship?" Has John Ambrose not noticed your disappearance from his life because he was together with Lara Jean?

"He wrote her letters, like the letter she wrote to him, I'm sure you know about that. Um, planning the whole dance, going to this place to do the service. It's like...They have more things in common and she likes that" this time he frowns. "She just seems so happy…"

"And you will just let her go on with it? She chose you first, she fell for you when she didn't, I think...she is just confused…" you admit to him. "Feelings don't go away just like that you know? Trust me." Ah yes, how you wished to forget feelings just like that.

"McClaren got you too?" He asks and you nod your head. "He is charming" you both chuckle.

"Not to be that person, but he is dreamy. He is what most girls would want, but for what I've seen and heard, Lara Jean is no typical girl."

"She is not. I would know" he says smiling and the two of you stay silent for a moment, looking or playing with your drinks.

"You should try to explain things to her, not let anyone else do it or things will get even more complicated" you shrug. "I would be mad but I would rather have that person to explain to me what exactly happened, rather than someone else."

"You are probably right," he says and stands up. "You coming?"

Your hues look up at him, "What?"

"You gave me the pep talk to go to Lara Jean, so let's go so you can talk to McClaren."

"I-I don't think it's a good idea" you pause. "Plus I haven't even gotten a dress. John asked me to go before everything happened..."

"If he has any feelings for you I'm sure that he won't care how you show up."

"Can I at least make myself decent?"

"Come on, come on" he goes behind your chair and pulls it back making you squeal. As you stand, he leaves the money on top of the table before you two walk out. "I'll meet you here in twenty minutes because I have no idea how to get there."

"Deal. Um, just in case get my number" you say and he pulls his phone out and types it. You both part your ways to later meet up.

You put together a small effort in your clothing. Yeah Peter was right but at least you wanted to look nice. Lara Jean would probably be flawless and you couldn't fight that but at least try. You could already feel your heart increasing its beat, you were getting nervous, unsure of what you would find but at least Peter would be there. With how he reacted after you talked him into speaking with Lara Jean, you could tell a friendship was growing there. He acted so different and the beam that surged through him when he realized it was not late only made you smile. Peter was like you in a way, and it was nice.

When you got to the diner, Peter was already there leaning against his car, looking through his phone. His free hand was stacked inside the pocket of his jacket, some sort of dark grey and wore a dark shirt underneath. You had your own long jacket as it was announced it would snow and you could feel it. The tip of your fingers were starting to feel funny which meant such weather. You had some decent black jeans and a simple blue shirt underneath. "Ready?"

"She doesn't like driving in the snow" Peter says randomly as he looks up at the sky, noticing the flurries falling.

"Who likes to drive in the snow?" You say with a smirk. "Come on" you change your shift from parking and start to drive off to Belleview.

Your teeth catch the inside of your cheek as you chew nervously on it as you drive, Peter's Jeep right behind you. A thought occurred to you then, what were you going to say to John Ambrose? Peter was going to apologize and explain, but what were you going to do? You had nothing. The ball was in his court now. The snow was falling heavy now as you made your way up the hill where Belleview was, you parked your car in the closest open spot and so did Peter.

"Damn it's cold" you shiver as you put your coat on, the change from the heat of your car to the outside had you like that, but it wasn't that cold.

"Where should we go? This place is huge" Peter says as he looks at the building. It honestly looked like a palace. A palace where Lara Jean and John Ambrose were probably dancing and giggling. Meanwhile, Peter and you were there to steal them from each other. Saying it like that? It sounded so selfish.

"Go to the entrance, I'll go on the back side" you say and he nods before you both split.

Your sneakers left the prints on the now covered snow as you walked. You liked these days, they were perfect to enjoy with great company. John Ambrose and you would meet at a park or at a house for snowball fights and angels. Childish as it was, it made John smile and you loved it. He had the most beautiful smile and laugh...

The songs you can hear clearly as you walk down the small hill that took you over to the back. It was where the people should be right? Unless it was all indoor as it probably is because of the snow. Your footsteps stop as you rethink it yet your hues focus on a particular thing that it made your heart stop for a moment.

There they were. Lara Jean throwing snowballs at John and him laughing. Just like he used to do with you. The same laugh, the same smile. Lara Jean looked gorgeous, the blue dress and her hair done made her look like a princess, you couldn't deny it. Maybe that's why John and Peter liked her. Then there was John, the white tuxedo too big for him but it matched him perfectly. It made him look like a prince. A princess and a prince having their dance...Your heart drops at the thought. Peter was right, they seemed to be perfect for each other. But what about you two? Weren't you two a match? What about all those years spent together? Not even a few weeks ago he was being this certain way with you...Did you take the signs in a completely different way? Was it all in your head?

You feel like you should look away, to move from the spot where you were currently hiding behind a wall, almost at the top of the stairs, yet you don't know why, you can't. Then it happens, John Ambrose spins her and they are chest to chest, so close. Their lips so close and you know what comes next, everyone knows, you should definitely look away, but you see it. Disappointment, betrayal, jealousy, sadness, anger, all the emotions merged into one as a lump formed on your throat. How many times have you thought about John's soft lips against yours? Now they were being shared with someone who just came into the picture again, because she wasn't there!

As you are about to turn on your heel, you hear it.

"I can't-I can't do this...I'm sorry…" you hear Lara Jean's voice and you turn around to find her walking away, leaving a boy with his heart breaking as she did. His gaze was fixed on the snow, probably processing what just happened. The perfect ending for the night just….gone. And you want to go to him. Hug him. Tell him it wasn't meant to be. Hell, even kiss him even if it would make matters worse probably. You hadn't noticed that your feet had gone two steps lower, now in full sight and when he lifts his gaze, your eyes widen. Left? Right? Up? Up is where your car is.

"Y/N?" He asks. You stand still for a few seconds, hoping that his mind tells him he is seeing visions, and then you turn on your heel, stumble on the stairs because of the tears shimmering in your eyes and run for the hills before he sees you all torn apart. "Y/N, wait!"

You stop once close to your car, what was the point? Confronting him or not, things will be awkward, he will be awkward, you will be awkward. Things would not be the same after this. You wipe a tear from your eye, take a deep breath to stop your voice from quivering when you speak and turn around, arms rising and dropping in defeat. "Surprise?" You shrug.

"What are you doing here?" He asks as he eyes you. Yeah, sorry to disappoint him for not looking like a girl pulled straight out of a love story.

"You invited me…"

"And you didn't talk to me for days. I thought you wouldn't come because of your shark days" he says gesturing with his hand at your body. Oh yeah, he was so understanding of those days.

"Shark week, and…Um- Yeah, I guess I was feeling much better and wanted to give you a surprise" you lift one shoulder and pause as you can feel the lump in your throat growing. "I came with Peter" you gesture to the Jeep. "He wanted to get Lara Jean back…"

"Kavinsky is here?" His eyebrows rose as his eyes widened.

"Yep...Talked him into talking with Lara Jean...Get her back…" You pause as you get a sudden urge… "I wanted to confront you about what happened the other day. I thought you had enough time to think, you know? Here I was thinking that you would realize the moments we shared and all and it would make you see and appreciate them…"

"Y/N, come on, I do appreciate those moments. You know that" he reaches for you but you dodge. If he touched you you were sure to break.

"Not how I wanted it" your lower lip quivers and you bite on it. "I guess that I- I just thought that our moments would top anything with someone who just got into your life and, gosh! I was so wrong" you laugh at how you should be sounding. Helpless. "I guess that I was the one who was surprised, huh?" You give him a sad smile.

"Y/N, come on. I can't lose you too. You are my best friend-"

"Do you think things will be normal between us? Because it won't. I know it for sure. I'm here blurting out my feelings which are not corresponded and you think I can look past this?" You scoff. "Maybe. Maybe in a few months but I have to see you everyday, Ambrose."

He remains silent, brown hues dropping and his jaw clenches. "I don't know what to say...Maybe now is not our time…"

"Is there even a time for us? Was there ever? Did you even consider it?" You ask in disbelief. "I mean, while that time comes, what? I'll have to see you with her, hear you talking about her?"

"She left! And if she is with Kavins-" he trails off and your features are sure to show your confusion, so you follow his eyes and see it. Peter and Lara Jean kissing. The nerve! She just kissed John Ambrose and now….that!?

You turn to look at John, who looks even more heartbroken now. "I guess you know that feeling now" you say and lick your lips, your posture fixes. "She chose the one who was there before you" your fingers slide to your coat pocket and pull your keys, pressing the beeper to open it.

"I- I thought-"

"I know…" you offer him a smile, after all, you had to sympathize because he was going through the same thing as you. "I know you thought everything would fall into place…" you open the door to your car. "I thought about it too." He turns to glance at you, he looks like a lost puppy. Damn it! You would do anything to cheer him up, but who would cheer you up? You won't be able to pretend everything is fine for so long until he is back to not thinking about her. "I'll see you around in school, Ambrose" you reach forward and press a soft kiss against his cheek, that side that if he moved you'd finally feel his lips against yours. Maybe you were expecting him to move. Selfish? Yes. As you pull, he only looks at you and you smile softly at him, not showing teeth, your lips together and just curving them enough to make it look like a smile.

As you start the car, Peter and Lara Jean walk besides each other linked by their hands to his car. John had started walking away. You were happy for Peter, at least things worked his way.

You arrive home and close the door of your bedroom and flop on your bed. Tears streamed down your cheeks as quiet sobs made you shudder and you closed your eyes. A ring from your phone getting you out of your thoughts for a moment. At first, you thought it would be Ambrose, but the person who it was surprised you.

Peter:Thanks for the pep talk. I saw you talking with McClaren, everything alright?

Me: You are very welcomed. Happy it worked out for you. (:

Me: Didn't go as I thought it would, but I guess time will tell.

Peter:Wow. I'm sorry to hear that.

Peter: McClaren is blind if he doesn't see you like that.

Me: You barely know me xD

Peter: You did say we were alike. So I know :P

Peter:I owe you one. When do we meet up? Lunch is on me and so is the therapy.

You can't help but giggle. There it was, a great friendship coming up.

Me:I'll let you know. I need some alone therapy before going to the outside world.

Peter:Got it. Totally. If you need to talk, while McClaren is gone, I'll be here. Night.

You smile and place your phone down and as you do, another message comes up. You think of something sassy to say to Peter if he was teasing but it wasn't him.

Ambrose: Can we please talk? When you are comfortable. I don't want to lose what we have.

Your lips purse.

Me:Okay.

And that's all you write for the night. Your head goes to many places while sleep catches you. Maybe in three days you will be able to talk to him, yet not forget everything. Yes, you will try your best to make it normal but, would it ever be? Probably not. Three days would do to talk, but the rest was unknown and it all depended on what happened then. Maybe in three days you could try to forget...

[leavesandcurses]

for the @bnhasecretsanta2019 project, and my partner, erizen! here’s an ao3 link, too. i chose to do momochaco out of the choices I was given...

“Look, it’s snowing! Yaomomo, come look at this!”

Momo jolts slightly, turning her attention to the voice calling her name. She falters, her cheeks heating up as she catches sight of Uraraka bouncing up and down, face pressed to the window. Momo peers outside, and yes, it is snowing quite strongly. The small flurries coming down obscure the horizon with an endless view of powdery white. It’s not particularly odd, given the time of year.

“Is it?” She murmurs anyway. Momo weaves between the classroom desks until she’s standing at Uraraka’s side, watching the tiny pieces of snow dance down from the pale-grey clouds with her. It is beautiful, which is a bizarre thought: Momo has never been overly fond of the cold, something she’s always attributed to her Quirk’s function — her body needs more lipids to ward off the side-effects of the cold, so Creation reaches its limits much quicker than in the summer months. However, her… what Jirou has referred to in passing as her ‘big gay crush’ on Uraraka may be the variable that’s changed her opinion on such weather. From an abstract standpoint, it’s incredible how something as simple as deep appreciation-turned-genuine admiration can change so many of her worldviews.

Momo allows herself a smile when Uraraka brightly exclaims the brilliance of the snow again, pumping her fist up and down excitedly. Chestnut brown bangs swinging back and forth with the exaggerated movements, eyes bright, smile stretching wide… like this, Uraraka is more beautiful than any of the works of art in her family home.

It’s adorable. There’s just something wholly-lovable about Uraraka Ochaco’s bubbly, bright, boisterous attitude; something Momo wishes she could have for herself, the confidence and strength of character seeming out of reach. But Ochaco… it’s admirable how strong she is. Despite everything Momo is confident in about herself, she wants to be more like Uraraka — fierce, strong, dependable.

“Class is over. Get out.” Aizawa drones from his sleeping bag. When he slouches to the floor, already asleep, Momo steals a glance at Uraraka. Her cheeks, perpetually pink, have gained dimples from the force of her smile. Wrapped up in her thickly padded winter coat, it’s hard to see the little pink pads at the tips of her fingers — a feature Momo knows she can ruminate over for hours at a time. She wonders what they must feel like to hold.

Momo comes back to with a start, subtly shaking her hand to disperse such… contextually inappropriate thoughts from her head. She heads back to her desk to collect her bag and coat, slipping both on. The warmth is a relief — there are no shortages of thanks in her mind to Aizawa for suggesting the girls of 1-A wear trousers during the winter months. Not only has it kept her, and the others who chose to wear them, warmer but has also warded off Mineta’s lecherous attempts. With a quiet yawn, Momo

“I love the snow!” Uraraka exclaims happily, clapping her hands together, “It’s so fun to mess with people on snow days, I wish the day wasn’t over! Oh- if we had training right now, Todoroki would beat us all hands down ‘cause of his Quirk- you could even beat Bakugou! There’d better be snow next week, too!”

There’s a second of silence. Momo raises her eyebrows and purses her lips, looking over to where the volatile blond is trying — and failing — to contain his explosive vulgarity. The detonation doesn’t exactly come as a surprise to anyone.

“THE HELL’D YOU JUST SAY, ROUND FACE?! I’LL FUCKING DESTROY YOU AND THE ICY-HOT BASTARD! YOU TOO, DEKU!”

Midoriya’s distinct cry of, “Kacchan?!” breaks through the clamour — it startles another series of laughs from Uraraka. Momo raises her hand to her mouth, chuckling also. One would think Bakugou would run out of aggression at some point, but… apparently not. Poor Midoriya.

“I’d like to see you try.” Todoroki mumbles, stoic as ever. With that, he briskly leaves the classroom.

“Wait up, Todoroki-kun! You said you’d let me borrow your notes!” Midoriya calls, running after Todoroki with Iida hot on his tail.

“SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU SHITTY NERD, I’LL KILL YOU-” Kirishima, smile apologetic, ushers (shoves) Bakugou from the classroom. Momo winces at the echoes of explosions in the halls. Uraraka, now snorting into her hands, is a sight pretty enough to knock the air straight from her chest, even as she calms herself, waving Momo a tiny goodbye before jogging out of the class, presumably after Iida and Midoriya.

“Didn’t I tell you all to get out?” Aizawa grits out. Momo’s spine straightens automatically at the tone, legs unconsciously carrying her to the room’s boundaries. As she walks down the hallway towards the exit that will take her back to Height’s Alliance, she hears a series of rapid footsteps. Surprised, Momo turns around to see Jirou running to catch up with her, and puts aside the mild disappointment fluttering in her heart that it isn’t Ochaco.

“Hey, Yaomomo.” Jirou waves calmly, expression tranquil. “Wait up.”

Momo stops where she is, taking the brief pause to fix her crooked coat. Jirou smiles serenely, fingers drumming against her thigh to a tune nobody else can hear.

“Jirou-chan. Is everything okay?” Momo asks. In the pale light filtering through too-large windows, Jirou’s smile morphs into a knowing smirk. Her eyes narrow.

“You’re gonna ask her today, aren’t you?” Jirou prods Momo’s side jokingly, eliciting a quiet yelp from her. She shoots a glare at Jirou, who holds her hands up in surrender. Her annoyance has nothing to do with how that comment made her heart stutter, face heating up again.

“Sorry?”

“Yaomomo.” Jirou deadpans. “Come on. The tea shop? You said you were gonna take Uraraka after class today. I won’t let you back out now. You were so determined about it yesterday…”

“But…”

When a pair of hands land on Momo’s shoulders, she looks up to meet Jirou’s steady gaze. “Don’t worry about it so much. It’s Uraraka. She’s easily one of the friendliest people in our class. Besides… she thinks you’re cool. I’m telling you, it’s not out of the question that she likes you back, besides,” A sigh, irritated though good-humoured, “you didn’t hear her spend like, fifteen minutes rambling about how amazing you were during our last training exercise. Not to mention that time she decked Mineta for- you know, making that comment about you.”

Unwittingly, Momo buries her face in her hands with a miserable exhale. She remembers that well; she hadn’t heard the comment, but she did see Uraraka storm towards him like an angry pink angel before punching him out of the training session. But… to hear that she could be impressed by her… it sounds too good to be true, really; Uraraka being impressed by her, even though she’s awkward and klutzy and-

“There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Jirou says, voice firm and reassuring. Momo blinks, eyes damp, and inhales deeply.

“Do… do you really believe that?”

Jirou’s smile softens, becoming something more open and honest. “Yeah. I really do. You got this, Miss Top-Recommended student. Let’s get back to the dorms. I’ve got your back.”

With that, Momo slows her pace to keep beside Jirou, shivering when they exit Yuuei’s main building. The snowflakes cascading from above set a stunning scene, paint bleeding down a canvas in pristine rivulets, and despite her once-dislike, Momo can’t hold back a small laugh when one of the microscopic works of art lands on her nose, a pinprick of cold.

“I never knew you liked the snow.” Jirou says, and a childish part of Momo rears up in unrelenting glee. There’s something about the snow that lifts every inhibition, lifts the weight off every person in their class. Momo watches, fond, as a snowball hits Todoroki in the back. She laughs outright when he launches one back at his attacker, sending Midoriya to the floor. Then it’s chaos unfiltered, Bakugou flying across the campus to bombard Kaminari, Tokoyami and Aoyama forming a united front, Satou and Sero charging Shouji.

Uraraka, arms full of snowballs, expression caught open in the happiest grin Momo has ever seen, descending on a terrified-looking Kirishima.

It’s Jirou’s quick intervention that stops her from slipping on an obscured patch of ice. Hand braced against her chest, Momo breathes a relieved thanks before upping her pace, eager to get away from the ice for a while.

The dorms are a breath of — blessedly hot — fresh air, shivers dying down in record time as Momo hogs up to her room. She waves cordially at Todoroki, who dips his head in lieu of words, and enters her room. It’s a quiet affair, changing from her uniform to her casual clothes — a turtleneck sweater to accommodate the colder weather, for sure — and tucking her bag away in her wardrobe. After that, Momo makes quick work of the questions set by Ectoplasm.

With a mild huff, Momo stands with a stretch, sighing when some of the ache in her shoulders vanishes. Now is as good a time as any to head down to the common room — to ask Uraraka if she would like to go with her to the little cafe.

She’s already asked Aizawa, earlier in the week — he’d signed the permission slip that would allow Momo off-grounds for a while, and allowed her a plus one.

So all that’s left to do now is hope Uraraka decides to come with her. Though, if what Jirou said stands true…

With that strengthening her resolve, Momo leaves her room. It’s a quiet, long walk, peaceful somehow — though she suspects that may have something to do with how the majority of her classmates are messing around outside in the snow. It’s falling heavier now, the thick white on the horizon swallowing up more land. There is some mystical, ethereal quality to it.

Momo pauses, her heart in her throat when she catches view of a familiar, lone silhouette standing in front of the tall glass panes of the common area. The bright light reflecting off the snow gives the room an ethereal feel, tranquility untouched by the chaos outside.

“Um… Uraraka-chan.” Momo calls. Her voice, though soft and hesitant, sounds all-too loud in the empty room. Uraraka blinks, whirling around- wide eyes alight with interest. Momo takes a breath to calm her rabbiting heart, before pushing forward.

“Yaomomo, what’s up?” Instead of allowing herself to become flustered by the beaming smile being directed at her, Momo reaches down to clasp one of Uraraka’s hands in both of hers. In the poor lighting, she misses the way Uraraka’s cheeks pink.

“Would…” Recalling Jirou’s words of reassurance, Momo steels herself and bites the bullet. “Would you like to come with me to have some tea later?”

“Tea?” Uraraka blinks. “Where?”

“Th- there’s a small cafe, not too far from campus. It’s a wonderful little place- I think you would like it. It’s very… homely. I have permission from Aizawa-sensei, and he said I could take a plus one… I was wondering if you would like to join me.” A whooping yell comes from outside, piercing the silence. Momo takes her breaths steadily and evenly, too-fast heartbeat proving too much to handle. With Uraraka’s hand in hers… it’s a miracle she doesn’t have Todoroki’s Quirk, otherwise she would have been on fire by now.

“Oh.” With a sudden, broad grin, Uraraka claps her hands together. “Sure! What time should I come to your dorm to meet you?”

Momo blinks, struggling to process the information. Then, with a jolt and a happy laugh, she takes a step closer and points outside to the snow.

“Oh-! W-well, I’m ready to leave when you are… I figured you would like to leave now, while it’s snowing. You said you love it- right?”

“Yes, I did! Thank you, Yaomomo!” Uraraka surges forward, throwing her arms around Momo. She stumbles slightly with the force of it, before returning the embrace shyly. With the sunshine smile on Ochaco’s face and the floral scent of the shampoo she uses filling Momo’s senses, this may as well be her personal heaven. When they part they’re both flustered; grinning stupidly, but pink-cheeked.

“Right! I’ll go get into something warmer- um, I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Alright.”

Momo walks slowly back up the stairs to get to her floor, eyes once more falling to the snow. The thin layer on the floor is growing thicker with every passing moment; the cold weather seems determined to stay as long as possible. With an imperceptible shrug to herself, Momo opens her door. She’s quick to grab her thickest coat and hat, tucking her purse away into a small handbag. Then every second takes an eternity, which is surprising given that Momo has always been proud of her ability to keep her head about her.

When she hears a knock at her door, she nearly jumps in her urge to open it. Slightly flustered, she comes face to face with a warmly-wrapped Uraraka Ochaco.

“Let’s go!” She declares. Momo nods, and suddenly believes in every time that Jirou called her weak for Ochaco’s smile.

The change from warmth to ice-cold air is startling enough to register as a physical impact when the leave the dormitory building. Momo shivers.

“Wow, it’s really getting cold!” Uraraka exclaims, a sentiment she can echo, as they walk. They avoid the violent zone of snow-warfare as much as possible — yet somehow, on the way to the Yuuei Gate, they still bump into a small pocket of their classmates.

“Uraraka-chan, where’re you going?” Midoriya, out of breath, calls. He, Shinsou, Todoroki and Iida are all red-faced with exertion. It seems to give Uraraka a burst of energy, as she hastily pats some snowballs together and, using her Quirk, passes them over to her friends. The sinister grin on Shinsou’s face makes her double-take.

“Yaomomo’s taking me out! We’re getting some tea together!” An explosion and a familiar yell rocks the calm, prompting Uraraka to cheer, “You keep fighting Bakugou, Deku-kun!”

Momo laughs at the overly energetic way Midoriya thrusts his fist into the air, barely avoiding clipping Shinsou’s disgruntled face. “With Todoroki-kun and Shinsou-kun and Iida-kun on my team, we’re gonna beat him!”

“Have a good time, Uraraka. Take care of her, Yaoyorozu.” Shinsou says. He snags the snowballs out of the air, tucking them into the folds of the capture weapon around his neck. His expression is eerily reminiscent to the one Aizawa-sensei gets before dropping another ‘rational deception’ on the class.

Iida turns to them, tearing Momo from her thoughts, a wide grin on his face. “Enjoy yourself, Uraraka-chan, Yaoyorozu-san!”

“We will! See you later, Iida-kun!” Uraraka waves, and then the small group are running back into the fray again. Momo watches Uraraka whirl around, a bounce in her step as they resume walking towards Yuuei’s entrance.

The walk is a scenic one. The trees lining the worn path are draped in a shimmering white, reflecting the street lamps’ amber hue. It’s a novel sight, something from a romance manga she read as a child, so stunning with the muted rush of wind across the skies and the dim skies. Beside her, Ochaco is in a similar state of awe, mouth slightly parted in wonder as she takes in the scene.

“I’m sorry I took so long to get changed earlier, Yaomomo.” Uraraka says, holding up her hands to show the fingerless gloves pink; they’re unbelievably her. “I couldn’t find my gloves in my room, I kinda panicked…”

“That’s alright, Uraraka-chan.” Then, without thinking, “You look wonderful.”

A beat passes. Momo wills her legs to not betray her as the realisation of what she just said kicks in — she’d just called Uraraka Ochaco wonderful. To her face. She just called her crush wonderful right to her wonderful face-

She nearly misses Uraraka’s blush as she stammers, eventually managing to get out, “I mean…”, which is about as useful as her unintended, incredibly genuine compliment-

“You look really pre- nice too!” Uraraka blurts. Her red face is impossibly endearing. “I mean, with your hat — uh, is that new, by the way? — it really suits you, you look great too!”

Momo nods. The hat is new; a pleasant blend of wool and cashmere. It retains warmth very well, but it doesn’t quite explain why her face is so overheated. She’s familiar with embarrassment, how inept it can render her, but again… it doesn’t explain why a breeze could take her away right now.

With a shuddering breath, Momo makes the executive decision to change the subject, swiftly and smoothly.

“I never used to like the snow too much,” she murmurs. Briefly, Ochaco looks almost put out by the revelation, “but someone changed my view on it quite recently.”

The indirect statement takes a second to sink in. When it does, there’s a bounce in Uraraka’s already energetic steps, a wide grin making itself at home on her face. Momo glances down. Sure, Ochaco may be a fair bit shorter than her, but… she’s brighter, livelier. That energy and infectious joy…

“It is beautiful. Snow. I… I’m almost ashamed I never saw it before.” A gentle nudge of a breeze rolls through the road, bringing fresh waves of snowflakes with it. It’s amazing, truly, that none of the crystalline patterns formed are identical. Even now, with years of practise using Creation under her belt… Momo knows she can’t make something quite so intricate.

“My parents and I used to play around together all the time when it snowed.” Uraraka says. Momo looks at her, takes in the fondness warming her cocoa-brown eyes. “I have a lot of fun memories of it. So I hope I can share some of it with you!”

“You already are.”

They’re silent for a while. Momo focuses on her steps, making sure there isn’t too much give in the snow with every footstep, listening closely to the rushing winds. The biting chill against her cheeks is bitter, almost painful in a way, but it’s tolerable for the way Ochaco reaches out, awe in her eyes as she reaches out to touch the larger falling clumps of snow.

It isn’t long before they’re at the small shop. Momo reaches out and pushes open the antiquated door, a swell of warm, cozy-smelling air rushing to greet them. It’s an eye-watering contrast.

“Oh, wow!” Uraraka exclaims, “You were right Yaomomo, this place is so nice!”

“I hoped you would think so.” Momo fondly replies. She’s quick to hold Uraraka’s arm, gently tugging her towards the back of the little shop. There’s a small table, discreet and out-of-sight; it’s the one Momo always sits at as a regular customer. The cinnamon-scented air is a brush of nostalgia; an old, happy memory unearthed to bask in. Absently, she passes Ochaco a pristine, neat menu to pick from as she settles in.

“Oh- everything is, um…” Uraraka trails off. It spurs Momo to look up from her menu and check on her friend; she wears a surprisingly disheartened expression. Momo frowns.

“Uraraka-chan? Are the teas not to your liking?”

“Oh! No, it’s not that I don’t like them- it’s, uh, something else, it’s-” Uraraka rubs at her neck. A nervous gesture? Momo’s brows furrow further, concerned until Uraraka murmurs under her breath, “It’sjusteverythingissuperexpensiveandIdidn’tbringalotofmoney.”

She blinks. “Pardon?”

“Um… I didn’t bring a lot of money.” Uraraka admits, like she’s confessing to some heinous crime. “Everything is… really expensive.”

“Oh.” Momo stills, a swell of upset nestling in her heart until a thought strikes her. “Well- you don’t need to worry, Uraraka-chan! I’ll pay for your tea, and whatever else you’d like to eat.”

It’s a simple offer — it’s not like she doesn’t have enough money to cover herself and Uraraka’s bills, she does, and with ease at that. But…

“What?! Yaomomo, I can’t make you do that!” Uraraka exclaims, eyes wide. She waves her hands back and forth, head shaking from side-to-side. Momo lets her hand fall to the table, and locks eyes with Ochaco.

“Uraraka-chan. It’s my treat to you. You don’t need to worry about paying me back, either.”

Uraraka’s stubborn frown refuses to fully dissipate, so Momo slides next to her to read the menu, together. With a fond smile, she points at one of the items.

“The lavender tea they do here is wonderful. My mother used to take me here a lot when I was a child. Apparently, I would get this one every time.” She explains softly. Slowly, the tension leaks from Uraraka’s frame until, almost defeated, she leans against Momo’s shoulder.

“Um… I’ll defer to your expertise, Yaomomo.” She pokes at the menu. “What do you recommend?”

“Hmm… I prefer the golden tips imperial tea they serve here, but… I feel like you might have a taste for something more floral. Maybe some jasmine blooming tea?”

“Blooming tea?” Uraraka asks, eyes finally free of their oppressive cloud, replaced by shining curiosity.

Momo nods. “The jasmine flower is dehydrated. The longer it brews for, the more hydrated the flower becomes! It opens up, like a blooming flower. I think you might appreciate it.”

“O-oh, that sounds awesome! Yeah. I’ll have that one, please!” Uraraka declares, a bit too loud in the quiet cafe. Momo nods, and beckons a member of the wait staff.

The minutes after ordering are spent in a peaceful chatter. Momo listens closely, attentive, as Uraraka explains her recent Quirk training; Asui’s developing techniques, Iida’s new Recipro-Burst limit, Midoriya’s increasing limits, Todoroki’s dual-Quirk practise. The enthusiasm in her voice as she talks is palpable enough to jarr Momo into sharing the details of her own training with Creation, and of Jirou’s strengthening firepower. It’s a pleasant way to pass the time; it has her heart fluttering with every exclaimed compliment and energetic praising.

“Oh! I think these ones are ours!” Uraraka gushes, staring eagerly at the tray of drinks. Momo’s spine straightens, a polite thank you reflexively slipping out. The waiter nods, bowing slightly, before leaving them to their beverages.

Momo watches, a laugh light on the tip of her tongue, as Uraraka gawks at the slowly opening flower. It always is a spectacle, no matter how many times she watches it; a small wonder contained within a teapot. While waiting for Ochaco to have the opportunity to enjoy her drink, Momo sips at her own. As always, the extravagant taste of the golden tips imperial tea is enough to take the tension and worries of Hero training from her shoulders.

“This is really nice,” Uraraka mumbles into her mug, pinky fingers raised, “I don’t usually get to have stuff this fancy.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you places more often, then.”

A small blush paints Ochaco’s cheeks; Momo draws little attention to it other than her own occasional, sneaking glances. It’s not exactly something she can help… eyes alight with fondness, face red from a mixture of the chill outside and Momo’s words… it’s impossible not to stare. It’s a mix of past and present joy, this little store; the affectionate overtones of this tea-date bleeding into sunny childhood memories.

Momo savours every second of the experience; the taste of her favourite tea enriched by the bubbly chatter coming from the girl sat across from her. Uraraka, after having finished her tea, taps her fingers against the glass teapot the jasmine flower is suspended in, sending it floating into the space between them.

She finishes up her own tea soon after, quickly paying off their bill. A quick glance outside reveals that the snow is continuing to fall.

“It’s getting late… we should get going soon.” Momo murmurs. Across from her, Uraraka nods. Once they’re ready to leave, fully wrapped up and prepared to face the continuing snow outside, Momo pauses. It’s enough to garner Ochaco’s full attention, as she turns around with a question in her eyes. You got this, Jirou’s words echo in her head. Momo wills her heart to slow its racing.

“Um… would…” Momo begins, then is stopped by the breath wedged in her throat. Her heart pounds in her chest, palms sweating.

“Yaomomo?”

Taking in a deep breath, Momo steels herself for the second time today. “Would you like to come out with me again…? Maybe next Sunday…?”

For a second, she’s uncertain. Uraraka’s expression is more contemplative than certain, and it strikes the anxiety hidden in Momo’s heart. That moment passes when a wide, happy smile brightens her face, and she bounces on the spot.

“It’s a date!”

Momo’s voice dies out into a squeak worthy of Midoriya-level embarrassment at the same time Uraraka turns bright red, arms flailing wildly. She nearly knocks over her cup in the process. She only begins calming down after her hands come to shield her cheeks from sight. Momo can imagine they’re still that endearing shade of red.

“I didn’t- I mean- I’d really love- like to- oh my god. Um. Uh. Yeah! I’d. I’d really like that. Um. So. Is this- uh. A, um…”

“A date?” Momo finishes, voice unbearably high and nervous. Barely resisting the urge to run away from the conversation, legs quaking, it takes her all to simply remain upright.

“Uh-huh.” Ochaco murmurs, “Y-yeah. Is… is it?”

With a voice steadier than she feels, Momo whispers, “If you want it to be.”

Uraraka takes a step forward, legs just as shaky as hers, and clasps one of Momo’s hands. Even though her thumbs aren’t making contact, Momo’s body is weightless, tethered to the Earth not by gravity but instead by the grip of the girl holding her. The pink pads at the ends of Ochaco’s fingers are a lot softer than she imagined.

“Yeah.” Uraraka whispers. She meets Momo’s eyes, shy but confident as ever, and she thinks she might be in love, “I’d… I’d really like that.”

[lindoig5]

Days 10 and 11   Sunday and Monday - Antarctica at last!!!

Sunday

Sunday dawned dismal and foggy, with sub-zero temperatures and thick snow laying around from overnight falls. A good day to stay inside, but it is amazing how quickly the weather changes down here.  One minute it is bleak and miserable, within 5 minutes the sun is shining brightly with not a cloud in the sky - and 10 minutes later, it is snowing again.  The snow we have had has generally been in fine flakes, but some of the flurries have been quite dense and sting quite sharply if you are out on deck at the time.

We had two more lectures that day – one on interpreting ice charts (fascinating) and another on polar photography.  It would have been great to capture that one on video and audio – it was really useful from the technical camera perspective although I don’t think I learned anything about the artistic side of the subject.  Dan was the presenter and he is a great photographer but there was so much information in his lecture that most of it got forgotten before he got to the end.

It amazes me that people don’t get the message – at least some of the most important messages.  We have been told repeatedly that the vacuum-operated toilets are very sensitive and ’if it doesn’t come out of your body, it doesn’t go in the toilet’.  There is a bin for toilet paper that is cleared regularly by the Russian staff, but people continue to put it in the toilets.  They have become blocked at least 10 times so far and nobody can then use the toilets, take a shower of wash their hands in the sink for an hour or two until the crew cleans and resets the system.  I few times it has just been a single deck, but most times, the whole waste disposal system goes down and that inconveniences everyone – sometimes quite seriously and for quite some time.  If only people would heed the warnings……

During the morning, we encountered 3 humpback whales and spent a wonderful hour or so in their company. They were obviously inquisitive and followed us around (when we weren’t following them) and everyone got some wonderful photos.  A truly unique experience and quite a few of us were somewhat overcome by the emotion of the encounter.  Such magnificent gentle giants and everyone was touched by the experience.  At times they seemed to be showing off for us, rolling over and diving – they were probably just enjoying their lunch, but it really did seem that they were consciously interacting with us – at least with the ship, even if not the humans aboard, but I really do think they were playing with us too.

By now, we were getting closer to Cape Adare, our first Antarctic destination and we had a series of briefings before dinner in preparation for the big moment around 3am on Monday.

Just for fun - a Southern Fulmar - one of zillions.

Monday

We got our wake-up call at about 3.45am, but quite a few people were already on deck by then.  As we approached Cape Adare, the sun started to rise and the brilliant white of the icebergs leapt out at us.  Seeing the retina-burning gleam of the bergs against the inky black clouds and orange-pink band of the dawn along the horizon was most spectacular.

Our first glimpse of Antarctica could hardly have been more dramatic.  The massive bluff at the Cape was mind-bogglingly spectacular with the 4200-metre precipice at the end of the peninsula towering over us and many giant tabular icebergs surrounding us, sometimes less than 20 metres away.  Many of the floes had Adelie Penguins saluting us as we passed and dozens of South Polar Skuas were patrolling the beach looking for a meal of some of the last remaining penguin chicks still there.  We sailed up and around the Cape looking for a possible landing site but the sea ice was tight-packed against the shore and a landing proved impossible.  We had good views of the penguins (but not as close as we had hoped) and there was a giant bull elephant seal sunning himself on the ice and a few leopard seals prowling, hunting for a careless penguin or three.  There are a couple of historic huts on the beach – the dilapidated remains of Scott’s last hut and the more substantial Borchgrevink one – plus some modern NZ scientists’ huts and equipment temporarily required while they are doing some restoration work there.  We pass the same area as we leave Antarctica and hope we will be able to land at that time.  (Borchgrevink was a German expeditioner and the first person to overwinter on the frozen continent.)

The landscape is utterly stunning – quite overwhelming – massive volcanic cliffs, hundreds of square kilometres of snow-covered peaks glistening apricot-orange to rose-pink in the early sun, eye-squinting white icebergs all around, and the massive black cloud-topped Cape Adare brooding over us all.  The emotion of the view got to quite a few people today – perhaps it’s just the fact that we are all in such a remote and awesome environment but it fired the emotions for quite a few of us.  I have already run out of adjectives so feel free to add your own – just make sure you scatter lots of superlatives in there too because whatever we jointly come up with will be a poor shadow of the real thing.

The sea ice prevented us from getting close to the shore so we sailed away and to the east, around the Cape to follow the peninsula south into the Ross Sea proper.  The coastline is stunning (or have I already said that?) with cliffs at least 300 metres high and snow-icing many hundreds of metres thick (and many hundreds of kilometres long) on top of them.  We sailed south for a few hours to the Possession Islands – again massive dramatic cliffs, giant icebergs, inaccessible vertical sea stacks and guano beaches home to a few more thousand Adelies.  We sailed around looking for possible landing places and some of the crew took a zodiac in search of a landing, but again the sea-ice defeated us and we were obliged to head further south.

The route we took paralleled the coast and it was one amazing vista after another all the way down. We passed quite a few islands, none for which we had landing permits even if we could have but the whole way has been adjacent to spectacular snow-laded mountains.  Utterly awesome and unlike anything we have seen before.

I spent a lot of the day sorting photos, identifying birds and writing my blog with occasional interruptions to view the coastline, check out some minke whales, eat a meal or two, visit the Bridge to photograph more birds and do a little reading – finished another book at last.  (I read at least six e-books while we were away: probably more than I would read in a year at home.)

Not sure what tomorrow will bring.  We have changed course at least twice more because planned landings proved unlikely or impossible due to weather, ice or wind conditions.  We got quite a bit of snow in the late afternoon so we are now heading for historic Terra Nova Bay and should reach there about noon tomorrow. It has a bad reputation for extreme winds, but hopefully, that may drive some of the snow away and allow a landing – but we will know that around lunchtime tomorrow.

[maiji]

Thoughts on Grasses of Remembrance (The Tale of Genji through its poetry)

Finally had some time this weekend to sit down with A Waka Anthology, Volume 2: Grasses of Remembrance Part B by Edwin A. Cranston. This book is the last in an impressive and intimidating collection translating a number of major classical poetry anthologies. It’s basically a speedrun through Tale of Genji (if such a thing were possible) filtered through all 795 waka poems written or uttered by the characters over the course of the novel.

Poetry was a Really Big Deal during the Heian era. If you were an aristocrat, not only were you expected to compose decent poetry, you had to be able to do it off-the-cuff appropriate to the occasion. AND to do this properly, you were expected to be able to recognize and respond cleverly to references to a ton of other existing classic poems from memory that people would just mention casually in conversation or writing (kinda like how people quote the Simpsons today lol). This was a prime marker of how intelligent/competent and - no joke - how sexy you were. So not surprisingly, these poems are extremely important to the development of character interactions and themes in the Tale of Genji which has a lot of romance and relationship plotlines. 

However. Translating Heian era Japanese into modern Japanese is already challenging. Rendering Heian era Japanese waka poetry into modern English is, as you might imagine, harder for a bunch of reasons. Considering how dense the actual novel already is, it’s super easy to gloss over the poetry, and some modern translations simply integrate the basic intent of the poems right into the main text/dialogue.

I was really interested in finding something specifically focusing on and analyzing the poetry, and this book appeared to fit the bill.

Short review: IT TOTALLY DOES. If you’re into Tale of Genji, Heian era, classical Japanese history, classical Japanese literature, Japanese poetry, or just love reading translators articulating eloquently while sassing characters or flailing through linguistic complexities, I RECOMMEND THIS BOOK

Long review: blah blah blah thoughts follows, including some quotes/poem for reference.

The book starts with a quick 2 page intro setting the context of the Tale of Genji, then goes straight into the poems. TBH I personally found it more flowery and redundant than necessary (it repeats a few poems that are then explained later). But it’s only 2 pages, we’ll live.

Then, the poems. For every poem (or poems, in the case of an exchange - sometimes a flurry of them with multiple characters speaking or dashing letters off to each other) there’s an intro and summary of context followed by an analysis, including notes on meaning, narrator and character intent, structure, symbols and wordplay. The original Japanese is included in romaji alongside the English translation. The commentary also flags known references to other classic poems (WITH those poems in-line! This is awesome because I don’t have the rest of these books!), and even mentions poem and folk song quotations from the rest of the novel where the characters have not composed new poetry, but are reciting other existing known pieces.

Overall, I have only three real “warnings” about Grasses of Remembrance Vol 2b:

1) It’s very academic and flowery in tone. If you’re not used to it, it can be hard to read. But then again, if you’re not willing to get past that, how are you reading Tale of Genji? lol. In any case, I personally thought the commentary was a lot of fun. Cranston definitely has opinions and can get pretty sarcastic in places, which I found hilarious. Here are a few sample quotes:

“Tamakazura has remarked to herself how superior the Emperor [Reizei] was in looks to all the courtiers in his train (It is a principle with this author that superior people be dashingly handsome or ravishingly beautiful).” 

“The ruefully witty poems exchanged between Yugiri and To no Naishi [Koremitsu’s daughter, the Gosechi Dancer] are rather more to my taste than the soggy ones Yugiri and Kumoi no Kari exchanged on their wedding night. Might it be the case that a totally sanctioned relationship is literarily uninspiring?”

“The old lady reaches for the melodramatic ultimate and dies just as Yugiri’s letter arrives.”

The overall effect is like an exceedingly well-educated, gossipy and sassy ride through the entire novel hahaha. 

2) Minor typos. I noticed some speckled throughout the text every so often (e.g., Tamakazura being rendered Takakazura, Akashi as Asashi, instances of accidental extra letters, etc.). It was pretty clear what the correct spelling was supposed to be, and TBH considering this is the last of a huge-ass series of over 1300 pages I think it’s forgiveable. Maybe a few that spell-check should have caught, but oh well.

3) This book is NOT CHEAP. As I mentioned in a previous post, not only did I not buy the entire collection, I didn’t even buy a complete Volume 2 - I only bought the last half of the second volume lmao. And the Tale of Genji translations are only HALF of this half of a book. The rest is actually the footnotes, appendices, notes to poems, glossary, bibliography and indices (including indices for every poem by author and by first line) for this beast of a translation/compilation project. This includes a lot of additional commentary and other poems and makes for pretty interesting reading itself, even without the rest of the volumes/parts. The price can definitely be scary and an issue for a lot of people, so if you’re interested in it, I suggest try checking it out at your library or on Google Books first. (In fact, Google Books is how I learned of this book in the first place.)

For me, the depth of insight for the poems was fantastic. It gave me a lot more appreciation for the scenes, including the mental state of the characters, plus a million more symbols, metaphors and ideas for my own creative works like the Genjimonogatari illustration series, North Bound and other original stuff. 

It also clarified several fuzzy translation questions I had that relied on specific knowledge of Heian culture and history/evolution of the use of the language and wasn’t easily found in Google searches or online language resources. And even if you’re already familiar with common allusions, metaphors and puns/homophones in Japanese poetry, it’s still helpful to see them all summarized. And sometimes lamented by the book’s author too. SO MANY PONIES EATING GRASS. SO MANY PINES. Especially the pines. (It IS an amazing pun though, especially because it works in both English and Japanese. Pine [tree] -> to pine, matsu/pine tree -> matsu/to wait)

In term of the actual translations themselves, you may still find them coming off a bit roundabout in some cases when comparing to the original Japanese. But overall I find Cranston’s translations more direct/flavourful than how they were rendered in the Tyler translation, partly because of how Tyler chose to juggle his set of translator’s challenges for rendering not only meaning but also more technical aspects of the poetic form. So the imagery ends up being, to me, a lot more vivid. The overall effect usually ends up more colourful, more emotional, more erotic, more cutting, more entertaining, and whatnot. 

For example, Kashiwagi’s suitor’s poem in the Kocho/Butterflies chapter. When reading the novel, I was like, uh-huh, yah, OK. When I read it here, I was like whoa, dude, that’s a little intense lol. Cranston’s translation amps up the connotation of the heat of the water based on the rest of the line. For comparison:

(The original non-romaji Japanese in the samples following are thanks to the Japanese Text Initiative from the University of Virginia Library Etext Centre and the University of Pittsburgh East Asian Library. Their Tale of Genji page has a FREAKING AMAZING side-by-side comparison of the novel in original Japanese, modern Japanese and romaji. Bless them and the people who had to organize and wrangle that text together.)

Original Japanese: 思ふとも君は知らじなわきかへり 岩漏る水に色し見えねば Omou to mo / Kimi wa shiraji na / Wakikaeri Iwa moru misu ni / Iro shi mieneba

Tyler version: You can hardly know that my thoughts are all of you, for the stealthy spring welling from the rocks leaves no colour to be seen.

Cranston version: Hardly can you know / Of the longing that I feel, / For the boiling wave / Is merely colorless water / As it drains away from the rock.

Here’s another example. Oigimi (Agemaki in the book, as Cranston used Wayley’s names for the sisters) telling Kaoru that he’s the only one who’s been actually visiting them and Kaoru is like all riiiight :Db! From Shii ga Moto / Beneath the Oak chapter:

Oigimi’s poem 雪深き山のかけはし君ならで またふみかよふ跡を見ぬかな Yuki fukaki / Yama no kakehashi / Kimi narade Mata fumikayou / Ato o minu kana

Tyler: No brush but your own has marked the steep mountain trails buried deep in snow / with footprints, while back and forth letters go across the hills.

Cranston: Over the bridges / Clinging to the cliffs along / Our deep-snow mountains / No letter-bearer leaves his trace: / Those footprints are yours alone.

Kaoru’s reply つららとぢ駒ふみしだく山川を しるべしがてらまづや渡らむ Tsurara toji / Koma fumishidaku / Yamakawa o Shirube shigatera / Mazu ya wataramu

Tyler: Then let it be I who firsts ride across these hills, though on his mission, / where ice under my horse’s hooves crackles along frozen streams.

Cranston: In the sheets of ice / Covering the mountain streams / My steed crushes / Such letters as form my reason, / My first, to cross as a guide.

In other examples, Genji’s “*throws hands in the air* I give up” poetic reply to Suetsumuhana about how she keeps using Robes of Cathay/Chinese cloak imagery in her poems in the original Japanese alongside the translation cracked me up even more. And one of my favourites is a pair of poems between the future Akashi Empress (as a child) and her birth-mother the Akashi lady. It’s really sad, sweet and cute all at the same time and completely flew under my radar when I read the novel originally.

The poetry analysis for the Uji chapters is especially intriguing. The plot pointedly pits Niou against Kaoru as opposing personalities with particular similarities and contrasts that drive their relationship with each other and with the woman they’re competing for. Especially in the latter half of the story, a lot of their poems, even ones written independently (i.e., to Ukifune), are specifically composed to highlight those attributes and play off of each other.

Finally, it’s also super interesting to see my experience with the narrative changes through the lens of the poems. Obviously, as I mentioned, some things I easily missed without paying as much attention to the poems in between the rest of the story. But also, some prominent characters have very few poems, so the narrative shifts away from them. Meanwhile, a number of otherwise very minor or usually overlooked characters stand out even more, thanks to the fineness, loveliness, resonance, and sometimes just sheer consistent presence of their poetry. This book definitely gave me a lot of additional perspective on the Tale of Genji, and enhanced my appreciation of the novel and the skill behind its crafting!

[darling-cas]

We Are Young: Deleted Chapter

Throne of Glass High School AU

Note: Here it is, the deleted chapter. This got cut from the actual story because it just didn’t fit with the flow, but I still wanted to share it with you guys. Technically, this chapter would have been chapter 12 - not the Rowaelin date chapter. So all this takes place between chapter 11 and chapter 12. Also, big shout out to @miladyaelin for giving this a quick edit for me! There will most likely still be some mistakes, as this didn’t go through the editing process these chapters normally go though. And some stuff may be repeated as I did add it to the main story, this is a different way. But I still hope you enjoy!

Main Chapter | Masterlist

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

Elide was happy to say she’d been feeling a bit better in the past few weeks.

Not 100% better, but better nevertheless.

She still held so many questions. She still went to bed feeling lost and went through her day feeling confused. But her talk with Aedion a few weeks ago really did help. And the couple of talks they’ve had since then weren't that bad either.

She realized that sexuality isn’t something easy. It’s complex. There were so many things she didn’t know and had to continue to learn. But she was slowly starting to figure out who she was. She was starting to come to her own. Yes, there was still a long road ahead of her, things she still had to open herself up to, but she’d get there in time.

“I feel like I need to be wearing my skates,” Aelin said, gripping the railing as they walked up the front steps of the school. “There’s so much ice I’m scared I may actually fall and break my leg.”

“I’m sure your Uncles would love that,” Elide couldn't help but laugh, especially as Aelin huffed, a cloud of cold air floating from her nose.

They were into mid-December, just over a week away from Christmas break. And if the weather today was any indication, they were in for one hell of a cold winter. Snow already covered the ground around them, with thin sheets of ice hiding underneath nature’s white blanket. The air around them was brutally cold and bitter. Flurries of fat snowflakes slowly fell from the gray sky.

It truly was a beautiful frigid winter wonderland.

“If I were to break my leg, I may as well break my neck too,” she said. “Because Uncle Weylan and Uncle Orlon would actually kill me.”

“Especially if you were to hurt yourself now, when you’re just over a month away from Nationals.”

“Don’t remind me.” A half-hearted groan made its way out of Aelin’s lips. “Uncle Weylan is bad enough.”

Elide laughed as the two girls walked through the main doors of the school. The warmth of the building hit them immediately, and Elide couldn’t help but sigh at the heat.

The main foyer of the school was nice and cozy with big holiday decorations. There were garlands hanging in the doorways, wreaths hanging on every door. Fake, light up snowflakes were hung from the ceilings.

Just the thought made Elide more excited for Christmas. Even though it would also mean no school, which meant being home more with her Uncle. But thankfully she had amazing friends who let her crash at their places. Plus she always spent Christmas with Aelin and her family, so she was never truly alone.

“You seem happier lately.”

Elide’s attention drifted to Aelin. The blonde was watching her with a careful eye, the smallest smile on her lips.

Elide couldn't help but let her own smile form. While she had been trying to figure out herself these past few weeks, she also realized how important having her friends around was. And how much she missed spending time with them.

“I am happier,” she admitted.

Aelin nodded, her eyes shining. “I’m glad.”

“The same could be said about you.” They turned down a crowded hallway as Elide spoke. “You seem happier these days too.”

The smile that was already on Aelin’s face grew. “I am happier.”

“Does a certain white-haired hockey player have anything to do with that?”

The grin on Aelin’s lips was contagious as she glanced over at Elide. The gold in her eyes seemed to glow at just the mention of Rowan.

“Definitely.” Aelin wrapped an arm around Elide’s shoulder. “But just know, I’m always here for you, if you ever need anything.”

Elide did know this. She knew this all along. But that didn’t stop the gratitude from shining on her face as she glanced up at Aelin.

“I know.”

Aelin gave Elide’s shoulder a tight squeeze before dropping her arm. The two fell into a comfortable silence as they continued down the hall. And Elide couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, her life was slowly started to untangle itself.

Then she slammed into a hard chest, just as she and Aelin turned the corner.

“Sorry. Didn’t see you.” This was half-heartedly said, as a strong set of arms gripped Elide by her arms, steadying her.

But the touch and voice just caused her body to lock up.

Slowly, her gaze moved upward. And sure enough, she was met with a pair of onyx eyes.

This was the first time she’d been this close to Lorcan since the party. Of course, she saw him all over school. But that was from a distance. She didn’t exactly go out of her way to walk into Lorcan. Partly because she didn’t want to find out what she’d feel if she got close to him again.

But standing there then, Lorcan in front of her, Elide was somewhat surprised to notice that she felt ... Nothing.

She didn’t feel any different than she had a moment before. Her heart didn’t jump. Her stomach didn’t twist and turn. She felt normal. As if any other person within the whole school had just banged into her.

Lorcan held Elide’s gaze for a moment longer, before raising a questioning eyebrow at her. If he noticed her or remembered the fact they’d made out a few months before, he didn’t comment on it.

“Can we help you, Salvaterre?”

Aelin’s hard voice brought Elide back to reality. She took a careful step backward, Lorcan’s hands dropping back to his side.

Lorcan’s face turned cold as he rolled his eyes.

“If it’s not my least favourite person in the whole school.”

Aelin huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as Lorcan’s dark eyes snapped to her.

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’ll leave that to Rowan, Galathynius,” Lorcan said, looking Aelin up and down. “Though I’ll never understand what he sees in you. All I see is a spoiled little bitch.”

Aelin took a slow, dangerous step forward. Her brows pinched together as she gazed up at Lorcan, face murderous.

But before she actually got a chance to say anything, a voice called out from behind Elide.

“Lorcan. Are you coming or not?”

Elide looked over her shoulder, only to find a beautiful curly-haired, brown-skinned junior standing just a few feet away from them. She had a hand on her hip, eyebrow raised as she looked between the three of them. Elide recognized her as Essar, the girl who was with Lorcan at the party.

Lorcan held Aelin’s gaze for a moment longer before slowly nodding his head. He sidestepped Aelin and walked right passed Elide, without so much as another word.

“God. I hate that boy so much.” Aelin sighed, her arms falling back to her side once Lorcan was gone. She turned to Elide, a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

Elide didn’t answer right away. She couldn't help but keep her gaze on Lorcan and Essar.

She watched as Lorcan approached Essar, her eyes softening as he got closer. He said something, causing her to roll her eyes. Lorcan then wrapped an arm around her shoulder, guiding her away.

And Elide still felt no different. She felt the same watching them as she did watching Lysandra and Aedion.

Turning back to Aelin, Elide felt her lips pull up in the corner.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Because I’d kill him if he ever hurt you in any way.” Aelin returned the smile before straightening her bag on her shoulders. “Come on.”

Together, the two continued on down the hallway as the warning bell for first class rang.

Elide couldn't help but think over Aelin’s words. And she couldn't help but realize that maybe Lorcan didn’t hurt her. Maybe he simply helped her, in a way. He gave he a little push to help her discover who she truly was.

With a heavy sigh, Elide continued to walk next to Aelin. But a flicker of silver hair in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Turning her head, Elide found Manon leaning against the locker, talking to Asterin. She must have felt Elide’s eyes on her, because she looked up, causing their eyes to lock.

And this time, as Manon gave her the tiniest smile, her heart did jump and her stomach did twist.

This time, she felt… something.

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

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“For the love of God, stop singing.”

Dorian came to a stop next to Chaol, the biggest grin on his face as he leaned up against the lockers.

“Why? Does my singing bug you?”

“Tremendously.”

“Everywhere you go-”

Chaol slammed his locker door shut, turning to Dorian with a glare. “Do you want to spend Christmas in the hospital?”

The threat was empty, Dorian knew it. This fact alone was one of the reasons why he couldn't help but laugh. Though he did stop singing.

“You’re not the biggest fan of hockey - even though you play it - and you basically hate Christmas.” Dorian pushed himself off the locker, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Are you even human?”

Chaol rolled his eyes before making his way down the hallway. Dorian followed him as they headed towards their third class of the day: biology.

“I like hockey, that's why I play it,” Chaol said. “And I don’t hate Christmas. Christmas just means spending time with your family. And it’s my family I’m not the biggest fan of.”

“Hmm, very true.” Dorian couldn't help but agree. Lord knows he didn’t want to spend any more time with his family - especially his father - then he had to. “And that’s why I’m glad we spend half of Christmas with Aelin and her family.”

Chaol nodded his head, face completely natural. But even so, Dorian couldn't help but watch him for a moment. It had been months since he and Aelin made amends and got back on friendly terms, but old habits were hard to kill sometimes. Dorian was used to Chaol making a face or a comment whenever he brought up Aelin’s name.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Chaol sent Dorian a look. But Dorian could see the corner of his lips start to twitch in a smile. “I’m not going to turn into the Hulk because you said Aelin’s name.”

“You never know, old habits die hard.”

This earned him a punch in the arm, causing Dorian to chuckle.

“But seriously,” Dorian said after a moment. “I know it’s been months, but you two are completely fine now? No hard feelings at all? Everyone's built their bridge and walked over it?”

This time, it was Chaol who chuckled.

“Yes. We’re fine. We’re friends. Are you scared we’re going to go back to hating on each other suddenly or something?”

“Well, it was tiring being the referee between you two all the time.”

“Besides, she truly seems happy now with Rowan. He’s good for her.” Chaol commented, his voice genuine. “And I’m happy now too.”

“With whom?” Dorian nudged Chaol with his shoulder, a smile pulling on his lips.

He pretty much knew the answer already. He just loved pushing Chaol’s buttons all the time.

Chaol rolled his eyes. But his lips still pulled up in the corners and Dorian swore he saw the faintest pink appear on his cheeks.

“Hey, I’m happy for you man.” Dorian clapped him on the back. “I think Nesryn is really good for you.”

“If you knew who it was, why even ask?” Chaol glanced over a Dorian, who gave a lazy shrug.

“Because you’re my brother. I'm supposed to tease and bug you.”

“How about I start teasing and bugging you and your love life?” A delish smile formed on Chaol’s lips. “Or lack thereof.”

The smile slipped from Dorian’s face. His brows started to pinch together as he met Chaol’s gaze.

“I have a love life.”

“You have a sex life,” Chaol said. “There is a difference.”

“I'm just waiting for the right girl to come along,” Dorian waved him off as they got closer to their classroom. “Aelin and Nesryn are already taken.”

“You’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.” Dorian shot Chaol a blinding smile. “But seriously. I’m fine with my life at the moment. I don’t need a girl-”

Dorian was so caught up in his and Chaol's conversation, he didn’t even realize someone was walking out of the Biology classroom until he turned to walk through the door, walking into a student instead.

Papers and books went crashing to the floor, along with the girl Dorian banged into.

“Oh god,” Dorian dropped to his knees, helping the girl pick up her dropped things. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see-”

Dorian trailed off as he handed the girl her bio book, looking up. He felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. He took in her chestnut hair, hair that was woven back into a braid. Beautiful brown eyes, flecked with green, glanced up at him for a brief moment before going back to picking up papers. Her golden skin seemed to glow in the bad school lighting.

Shit.

“It’s fine.” The girl scrambled to her feet once all her papers were picked up.

Dorian continued to help by following her lead. He still had her textbook in his hands. Once he was on his feet, he slowly handed it out to her.

“I’m sorry,” were the only words his mind seemed to form as she took her book back.

Then he truly felt like he was going to pass out when she sent him the tiniest smile.

“It’s fine,” she said so softly, Dorian wasn’t even sure he heard her right.

Another beat passed up with Dorian simply staring at her. The faintest pick started to form on her cheeks. And before Dorian could do anything, she quickly mumbled a goodbye, getting out of the situation as fast as she could.

Yup. He was definitely in some shit.

Chaol let out a chuckled, clapping Dorian on the back.

“You were saying?” He said, smirk on his lips as he walked pass Dorian into the classroom, heading towards his seat.

Dorian wanted to glare at him. He wanted to be mad. But he couldn't. In that moment, it seemed impossible.

He couldn't help but feel like his life just took a turn for the better.

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

The day came and went for Aelin in almost a blur. But in a blissfully good way.

She couldn't remember going to any of her classes, but she was so content and happy that she didn’t care. It was almost like she was in a happy daze all day. Actually, it was like she was in a happy daze for weeks now.

And Elide was most definitely right. It was because of a current white-haired hockey player.

Aelin couldn't stop the smile for forming on her lips as the bell rang, signaling the end of last period. She quickly gathered up her things before making her way out of the classroom and into the already crowded hallway.

Honestly, Aelin couldn’t remember the last time she felt this relaxed and content.

Everything with Rowan, it was easy. Good. Ever since they shared that kiss by the pond a few weeks back, things had been going wonderfully. They were both in nice and better places. The talks and dates and teasing was good. The kissing was definitely good. Aelin and Rowan were good.

Good, but still taking things a bit slow. Well, slow by teenager’s standards these days. They’d gone on plenty of dates before - most of which ended with a heated make-out session in the back of Rowan’s car. But aside from the constant making out and touching, that was it. Which Aelin understood. This was Rowan’s first relationship since Lyria. Aelin wasn’t going to push anything.

Weaving in and out of students, Aelin made her way down the hallway, which was abuzz with people chatting excitedly about Christmas and being off of school for two weeks. Aelin herself was pretty excited. She loved Christmas. And even though this Christmas break she was literally spending every day at the rink, training for Nationals, it was going to be nice to have a break from school. Plus, she’d get to spend more time with Rowan.

Just thinking about this brought a bigger smile to her face.

Aelin rounded the corner, and a head of white hair immediately caught her attention. And damn, Rowan looked good in his jeans and shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Just the sight caused her heart to flutter in her chest.

“Hey goodlooking,” Aelin said as she approached his locker.

Turning around, a smile lite up Rowan’s face when his gaze met hers.

“Hey,” he said, bending down to place a quick kiss on Aelin’s lips. Just the feeling on his lips brushing against hers left her wanting more. But before she had a chance to react, it was over just as fast as it started with Rowan pulling away. “How was your day?”

Aelin gave a lazy shrug of her shoulder, leaning up against the lockers. “Pretty uneventful.”

“That doesn’t sound like a typical day for you.”

“Hmmm,” the smile on Aelin’s face was bright, her eyes sparkling as she watched Rowan place some books in his locker. “Maybe I should go find Manon or Lorcan. It’s been awhile since I’ve punched one of them in the face.”

Rowan gave a slight roll of his eyes as he closed his locker door. Those pine green eyes turned to meet hers and Aelin felt her heart jump. The way those eyes all but glowed, the slightest twitch of his lips, the look of pure happiness on his face, there wasn’t anything Aelin loved to see more. A truly happy Rowan.

“I love that.”

Aelin tilted her head to the side slightly. “What?”

“Seeing that smile on your face.” Rowan took the smallest step closer to her, a lazy smile on his lips. “Seeing you happy.”

“Good.” She breathed, her grin growing. “Because I love seeing you happy too.”

Rowan took another step towards her and suddenly, everything and everyone around them disappeared. It was just her and Rowan, in their own little world. Those eyes held her in place, captivating her. She thought for sure she was going to feel his lips brushing against hers any minute now, and her heart started to pound in her chest.

“Do you have practice every day this week?”

Or maybe not.

Just the mention of practice broke whatever spell took over a moment ago. Aelin could feel the smile slowly start to fall off her lips as the hallway came back into focus. Her mood started to drop little by little.

Practice was… rough lately. With Nationals coming up in just over a month, and with Aelin still having yet to land her triple-triple, she normally left practice in a sour mood. Uncle Weylan said she needed all the practice she could get. So over Christmas break, they were having practice for hours on end every day. And if she didn’t land her triple-triple by New Years, they were taking it out of her program.

To say the thought frustrated her a little bit would be an understatement.

“Every day up until Sunday,” Aelin sighed. “Uncle Orlon convinced Uncle Weylan to take Sunday off because they need to do their Christmas shopping.”

The sparkle in Rowan’s eyes turned mischievous. “So you’re free Sunday?”

“Possibly.” Aelin couldn't stop the smirk from pulling on her lips. “Why?”

“Because,” as if it was possible, Rowan took a step closer to her. “I have a surprise for you.

“I love surprises. Especially ones for me.”

“I know you do.”

Aelin could feel Rowan’s breath brush against her cheeks as he spoke.

“Then it’s a date.” She smiled.

They’d gone on dates before, and they were always hanging out in between school and practices. But there was something about the way Rowan’s eyes lit up, something about the way his lips formed a lazy grin, that had her stomach twisting and turning. In the best way possible.

“It’s a date.” He agreed, letting out a breath before his lips brushed against hers.

It was meant to be a soft, gentle kiss. One appropriate for the hallways of the school. But Aelin couldn't contain herself. Just breathing in his scent, tasting his lips on hers, caused all thoughts to leave her head.

She grabbed the front of his shirt as if it was her lifeline, pulling him closer. She couldn’t help herself as she moaned into his mouth, the kiss deepening.

She could spend the whole day kissing Rowan, and not have one single problem with it.

Rowan placed his hands on her hips, fingers digging into her sides. It was like he was restraining himself. Like he had to stop himself from pushing her up against the lockers and taking her right then and there.

They were taking things slow. That didn’t both of them particularly liked the idea most times.

“Fireheart,” Rowan breathed as they pulled apart, resting his forehead against hers. The roughness in his voice caused her stomach to knot.

“Buzzard,” was her response. A smug smile graced her lips as Rowan let out a deep chuckle.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, Rowan took a step back.

“Come on,” he said, reaching his hands towards her. “Let’s go.”

Aelin nodded, her smile turning soft as she placed her small hand in Rowan’s big one.

And as they walked together down the hallway, Aelin realized, for the first time in years, she truly felt at peace.

Because of a current white haired hockey player smiling down at her.

[kansascityhappenings]

Joe’s Weather World: Snow moving through plus bitterly cold air today (SAT-1/11)

I tell you what this storm was frustrating…it has been all week and when you think you sort of have a good feeling for how things will play out…a piece of data comes in that can shake that confidence. It got to a point last night where I just said to myself…keep the forecast the same and let the cards play out on their own.

That is happening now…the snow is picking up on the KS side especially and slowly expanding eastbound. A couple of inches are likely with some getting maybe 3″ or so. Temperatures are dropping. As I type this we’re in the lower teens which is impressive and we have sub-zero wind chills as well.

I’ll be glad when this storm is toast that’s for sure. A wild ride and again, as I’ve written all week…just so much different than the winter storms last season when things played out pretty much as expected.

Forecast:

Today: Snow through about 4PM or so then cloudy skies. Cold with teens during the day. Wind chills in the negative territory.

Tonight: Mostly cloudy…IF we get more breaks we may really tank to 0° to 5° above. Otherwise single digit lows. Winds settle down somewhat

Tomorrow: Partly cloudy turning cloudy with snow showers possible later in the afternoon. IF we get some heavier showers we could see a dusting out there. When this happens the winds may pick up as well.

Monday: Better with highs near 40° with upside.

Discussion:

Well let’s start with radar…

From 11AM-2PM or so this will be the bulk of the accumulating snow. Again a couple of inches likely.

This storm has given me fits and frustrations.

In reality, at least through this minute…the storm has been well forecast. The glazing…the colder air…the impacts to the Metro roads…predicted to the hour on Thursday for what happened on Friday…but in the end we’re judged, fairly or unfairly (mostly fairly) by how much snow falls.

In the end 2-4″ would probably have been the best forecast from the get go. It’s tough to do that though when we have data that was showing so much moisture coming down during this phase of the storm. Granted it was overdone…and we knew that mostly…but when the data was pointing to 1/3rd of an inch to 1/2″ of liquid equivalent combined with the colder temperatures…that’s the recipe for more snow.

The comma-head part of the storm was the whole snow maker for us…it’s happening now as I type this…but it just wont’ be able to generate that much liquid equivalent. It will be more like half that…which cuts down on the snow amounts.

Hey…it’s snowing…accumulating and it will be more than 1″. Last night I cut the forecast to 2-6″ stressing that the 5-6″ range was the real high end…and concentrating more on the 2-4″ range of possibilities…I even showed this graphic for my confidence level of what may unfold.

So it more or less is working out.

Heck we even got the timing for the main part of the snow to work out almost to the hour from 48 hours ago.

Again though in the end it’s about the totals. 2-3+” seem to be what we’re looking at.

By no means a perfect forecast..but overall from a timing perspective to impacts…to the expected lull last night…to the accumulating snow today…to the timing of that accumulation and everything in between…right now…I’m giving myself a solid B (maybe B+). I hope you agree.

Here is the storm…

The temperatures are also impressively cold.

It’s in the teens and steady now…we’ll end up bitterly cold tonight…potentially near 0° in some areas with the dry air in place and the clearing skies. The winds should turn towards the SW overnight so that may prevent a total free fall…but this will be the coldest night of the winter season so far.

Tomorrow is another interesting day…not so much in the morning but in the afternoon.

Another disturbance will be coming this way…and it’s a small but potent one. The issue is that this storm is going to try to sweep away the moisture in the atmosphere to some extent. The next inbound one has to try and saturate the atmosphere very quickly tomorrow.

During the spring with a lot of surface moisture…this would be a severe weather set-up. The dynamic wave will generate a lot of lift as it approaches so that clouds will rapidly develop and fill in.

From those clouds…snow showers are likely…there may be some rain drops mixed in…maybe even some sleet/graupel or something weird too. This should develop in the afternoon and fly through parts of the area. Winds will be increasing as well as this approaches and moves through. IF it comes out a bit farther south…we could even see a dusting of whatever in parts of the area. Something that I’ve talked about since Thursday on the air. Need to watch this.

Then it settles down a bit but another fast moving wave may generate some rain on Monday night or early Tuesday morning.

There should be some pretty cold air coming in WED into THU…and the GFS is trying to create some ice around these parts at the end of the week as the colder air departs. We’ll see about that.

OK that’s it…I’m burned out. These storms are like I’m in a 10 round boxing match. I take them very personally…after a few rounds of rope a dope…we get settled in…then there are a flurry of body blows in the end and we see who wins when the final bell chimes.

Our feature photo is from Brittany Isabell up in St Joseph, MO.

Joe

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2020/01/11/joes-weather-world-snow-moving-through-plus-bitterly-cold-air-today-sat-1-11/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2020/01/11/joes-weather-world-snow-moving-through-plus-bitterly-cold-air-today-sat-1-11/

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Pride

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4334

Summary: Simon and Baz decide to go to London Pride.

AO3

AN:  In celebration of Pride month, I decided to do a snowbaz Pride fic! Enjoy!

Edit: Earlier readers may notice the fic has changed a bit. I got some constructive criticism and decided to improve it based off that. It's still the same story at heart. I feel like it's better to improve it than leave it in a state I don't like.

Simon

“Baz?”

“Hm?” Baz cracks an eye open.

We’re sitting on the couch, both of us dozing off as we watch The Great British Bake Off. My head is tucked in the crook of his neck, an arm draped across his stomach. He’s got his arm over my shoulders. It’s a familiar, comfortable position we’ve adopted over the past year and a bit, which is probably why I feel safe enough to ask this.

“I was thinking...”

“That’s a first.”

I lightly smack his thigh, making him chuckle. “Stop being a prat and listen to me.”

“Fine, fine. What are you thinking about, Snow?”

I bite my lip. “I was thinking...maybe this year...if you’re cool with it...we could...uh, uh, I-”

“Spit it out, Snow.”

“IwasthinkingmaybewecouldgotoPridethisyear!” It comes out in a long stream of unintelligible syllables.

Baz furrows his brow. “I got none of that.”

I take a deep breath. “I was thinking...maybe we could go to Pride this year...” I wait for him to laugh or hit me over the head and call me a twit. Instead he just stares with wide grey eyes.

“You, want to go to Pride?”

I sit up and nervously rub the back of my neck. “Well, yeah, sorta. I’ve never wanted to go before but that was when I was more worried about the Humdrum than parades. And I didn’t know I was bi before. But it's been over two years since Watford and now I’m with you and I’m feeling relatively normal, so...it might be fun.” Baz keeps looking at me wide eyed. I’m redder than a tomato now, so I look away at the floor. “I-I don’t know it’s a dumb idea, sorry, I-”

“No!” I look up and Baz is shaking his head. “No no, it’s not dumb. It’s just...” He looks down this time. “It’s never something I’ve considered doing before. It’s not like I had much free time before either. Plus I was deep in the closet. Very deep in the closet.” We both chuckle at that.

I reach out and take his hand in mine, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. “So maybe it would be fun. You know, a day for being gay.”

He laughs heartily. “I think every day for us is a day for being gay.”

I shrug. “True. But it could still be fun.”

“Yeah, it could be.” He squeezes my hand. “Alright, let’s do it.”

I grin wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

I tackle hug him down onto the couch. He makes an “oomph” sound, but quickly hugs me back. I kiss up his neck to his cheek then peck the tip of his nose. He smiles up at me like an idiot, a rare thing for Baz. He usually likes to hide them because of some weird misplaced pride. He runs a hand through my curls, then leans up and kisses me. I melt into it, lightly holding his neck. Aleister Crowley, I love this man.

“Hey guys. I’ve got some cherry scon- oh for fuck’s sake! I can’t leave you two alone for two minutes can I?”

I pull away from Baz and chuckle. He groans and mutters something along the lines of "fucking come on, Bunce". I turn to grin at a very pissed off witch.

“Hi Penny,” I say as sweetly as possible. She has her hands on her hips, which pairs nicely with her scowl.

“Hello, Simon,” she grumbles. “Is there a reason you two are snogging on the couch after I explicitly told you not to anymore? Lest I would unleash a particularly nasty curse?”

I sit up, legs still around Baz’s waist. I throw my arms in glee. “We’re going to Pride!”

Penelope’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “Really?”

I nod vigorously. She flicks her gaze down to Baz. He nods as well. Penny smirks.

“Well,” she says, “this is going to be interesting.”

It’s a week until the parade and Baz says I’m far too excited. I researched the perfect place for us to stand. I’ve got the date marked on the kitchen calendar with a rainbow sticker. Baz, Penny, and I all got work booked off for that day. Penny even got a little flag to hang on our door.

I’m walking home from work with a smile when I spot something out of the corner of my eye.

I stop in my tracks and pivot on my heels. They’re hanging right there in the shop window. And they’re bloody perfect. I grin like I always do when I have a bad idea.

“Oh Baz is going to kill me,” I whisper.

I go in.

When I walk into the flat, Baz and Penny are arguing over what pasta sauce to use for the penne.

“For Merlin’s sake, Bunce, vodka sauce is better in every situation.”

“Not everyone likes their food to be unreasonably sweet, Basil!”

Baz walks (more like gets shoved) out of the kitchen and over to me. He places a small kiss on my cheek like always.

“Hello, love,” he says, “what's in the bag?”

“I'll show you if you promise not to break up with and/or kill me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I'm scared to ask now.”

I reach into the plastic shopping bag and pull out what I bought. Baz’s eyes nearly bug out of his skull.

“Merlin and fucking Morgana,” he whispers, “you didn't.”

I grin. “I sort of did.”

“Did what?” Penny shouts from the kitchen.

“Come in here, Pen!”

Penny ducks her head out of the room, licking red sauce off her finger. I hold up my shirt. It's a baggy tank top with three thick stripes. Pink on top, purple in the middle, then blue at the bottom. The bisexual flag colours.

“It's wonderful, Simon,” she says with a grin.

“Baz, show her your’s!”

Baz groans and holds up the black t-shirt. In rainbow scribble-like lettering it says “I'm So Gay I Can't Even Think Straight.” Penny doubles over in uncontrollable laughter. Baz glares while I just smile.

“Fuck off, Bunce,” he grumbles.

“Oh I got you one too, Pen.”

I toss the white tee over to her. She lets it unroll and smiles. She holds in front of herself. It reads “Ally” in fancy rainbow cursive.

“Marvelous, Si!” She beams, then goes back to the kitchen.

“Got us all covered, huh Snow?”

I hold my tank top in front of us, grinning with smug self satisfaction.

“Yup. Thought we needed to look the part.”

He holds up his own shirt and sighs heavily.

“I cannot believe you bought me this. It's ridiculous looking.”

“Well, it's gay and sarcastic, just like you.”

He glares at me, and I smile softly, silently telling him he doesn't need to be so serious with me. That he's allowed to loosen up a bit. His face softens slightly and he leans over to kiss my forehead.

“You're so lucky I love you,” he whispers against my skin.

I reach up and brush some of his hair behind his ear, tracing his sharp jaw line. “I know. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He must’ve drank a lot of blood earlier, because his cheeks turn bright red. I stand on my toes and kiss him softly. It’s a short, small kiss, but it means everything. I pull away to place my head on his shoulder again, wrapping my arms around him to hug him sideways.

He rests his cheek on my hair. “You better make this up to me.”

With lightning speed, I reach down and pinch his arse. He yelps and narrows his eyes at me, but his deep crimson blush betrays him. I just smirk.

“Don’t worry, darling," I whisper. "I’ll make it up to you all night.”

He’s about to make some sarcastic or sexy comment (either would be good), but the smell of burning tomatoes wafts in from the kitchen. He quickly pulls away and runs towards it.

“Bunce! You better not be burning my sauce, you culinary nightmare!”

The two descend into a flurry of yelling and banging metal. I pick up the black t-shirt Baz dropped in his rush to save dinner. I drape it over my arm and walk to my room. Got to put these in safe place before next week.

The sun is bloody brutal today, which makes me glad I’m wearing a tank top. Baz is wearing about three layers of SPF 50 sunscreen just to keep from burning to a crisp.

He looks like a bloody hipster, donning black ray bans and tying his hair up in a loose bun. He’s even got tight skinny jeans. (Not that I’m complaining.) He’s wearing the shirt too, of course. He has his arm draped over my shoulder, and I’ve got mine around his waist.

“It’s starting soon, yeah?” Penny asks.

She has a hand cupped over her eyes, trying to see down the road where the parade is supposed to be coming from. She’s got her Ally shirt pulled up tied with a hair elastic to create a makeshift crop top.

“It's too hot for a proper shirt,” she said earlier.

“Facebook said it was at 2:00,” I say. I look down at my phone, reading 1:58.

Baz sighs and hangs his head back. “It better bloody well start before I’m a pile of ash.”

I lightly smack his side. “Stop complaining, you fucking vampire baby.”

“Yes, Snow, I am a vampire. A vampire who burns very easily in sunlight.”

“I burn too, and you don’t see me moaning and groaning.”

He grumbles under his breath and looks away. I pull the brim of my red snapback down to better block out the sun. (Baz got it for me so I’d stop squinting.) Baz’s head perks up and he turns to his right.

I furrow my brow. “What is it?”

He smiles slightly, one corner of his mouth pulling up. “Here it comes.”

And right on queue, the sounds of shouting and cheering erupts from up the block. (Bless Baz's vampire hearing. ) It’s a massive wall of people walking in the middle of the road. They’re all dressed marvellously, wearing all different mixtures of colours. They yell and holler, waving their flags high in the sky. The crowd around us starts cheering right along with them. I grin wide enough to split my face.

“Whoooo!” Penny shouts. She jumps around and waves her arms. She’s loving this.

I quickly join in, throwing my free arm up in the air, whooping along with Penelope. Baz stands still. Of course the prat won’t join in. He still acts like a bloody statue most of the time, despite my hyperactive influence.

“C’mon, join in!” I yell.

He looks at me behind his shades without turning his head. “I’m not shouting like an idiot, Snow.”

“Everyone’s shouting, Baz. So right now you look like the idiot.” I nudge his shoulder. "C'mon, just give it a try."

He raises an eyebrow, then shrugs.

“Woohoo!” He shouts, throwing an arm up. Penny looks at him in disbelief, then at me. I shrug and join my cheering boyfriend.

The parade is absolutely incredible. Hundreds, thousands of people of all different kinds march down the road. There are floats with everything from drag queens to half naked people to TV stars. One of them tosses bead necklaces down. Baz catches one and turns to drape it gracefully around my neck.

“Looks good on you,” he says, twirling the green string string around his long finger.

I take his hand and kiss the back of it. “Thanks, love.”

He smiles, and he’s about to say something, when a spray of water hits him right in the left side of his face. I burst out laughing, as does Penny from behind me. He sputters and spits the water out. He takes off his sunglasses to wipe them on this shirt.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters. “You didn’t tell me there’d be water pistols.”

“Sorry. Though, soaking wet looks good on you.”

Baz glares and replaces his glasses. He turns away, crossing his arms and scowling. I hold his side tightly again, running my fingers up and down over the fabric of his shirt. He slowly relaxes.

“Thank you, love," he whispers.

I furrow my brow. "For what?"

He puts a possessive arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. “You always seem to know how to make me feel better. It's marvellous."

Heat spreads on my face. I feel embarrassed. I really shouldn't after two years, but when Baz says stuff like that, I feel like a stupid lovestruck teenager. (Which I guess I kind of am.)

He chuckles at my blush and kisses the top of my head. "Never stop doing that, please."

I nuzzle into the crook of his neck. He’s a bit warmer under the sun, but he always feels the same. He’s smooth and comforting and familiar. He feels like home. “Will do, love.”

We turn back to the parade. The roar of the crowd is near deafening, but it’s amazing. The air is filled with energy. It’s almost crackling with excitement. I feel accepted, because I’m among people just like me. All of it reminds me of being back at Watford, something I haven’t felt in over two years. And I absolutely love it.

“Hey, want a picture?”

We both turn. A man in a rainbow muscle shirt and very tight jean shorts stands a few feet in front of us, holding up a Polaroid camera. I turn to Baz smiling, and he relents. My secret weapon always works.

“Sure!” I say.

I lean my head on Baz’s shoulder and look at the camera. The device clicks and whirrs and spits out a square picture. The man shakes it out a bit and hands it to me.

“Hey! Leaving me out, huh?”

I turn to see Penny, her hands on her hips. I chuckle and gesture for her to come over.

“Mind taking another one, mate?” I ask.

The man nods. “No problem, bro.”

I sling an arm behind Penny’s neck. We all turn to the camera.

“Everyone say, ‘happy Pride’!” he yells.

“Happy Pride!” we shout in unison.

Another click and whirr and square. Penny takes it though. She shakes it out, then carefully places it in her satchel. I hold out our first picture, and she glares at me.

“I’m not your pack mule, Simon.”

I pout slightly. “Please? My pockets aren’t big enough. And I don’t want it to get damaged.”

She rolls her eyes and snatches the photo.

“Thank you, Pen.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome, Chosen One.”

“Hey,” cameraman says, “there’s an after party later tonight. Feel free to drop in.” He hands me a paper. I give him a little salute goodbye and he runs off back into the crowd.

It’s a flyer for a party alright. “Pride Party” read in huge letters at the top. Then the name of a local club and a time. I look over to both Baz and Penny.

“Want to go?” I ask.

Penny nods. “Looks like fun to me.”

It takes a moment, but Baz shrugs and sighs. “I can’t see the harm.”

“Whoo!” I yell. “We’re going clubbing!”

They both roll their eyes at me.

The club is even crazier than the parade. The thumping electronic music is deafening. Pulsing multi coloured lights fly around the room. On the huge stage, a group of drag queens and scantily clad men and women dance. Baz and I are standing at a table near the bar while Penny gets us drinks. I’m tracing my finger up and down Baz’s arm. His eyebrows are close together and his mouth is a thin line.

“You doing okay, love?” I yell over the music.

“Fine. Just hankering for that vodka Bunce is supposed to be bringing.”

“You sure? We can go if you want.”

He holds my hand. “No no, I want to stay. Just have to get used to the environment, y’know? Loud music and vampire hearing don’t mix well.”

I squeeze him tightly. “Alright.”

“Gentlemen! I bring you booze!”

Penny sweeps in with the smug grandiose confidence I’ve come to expect from her. She holds three shot glasses filled with clear liquid. They have little rainbow stickers on them.

“These are adorable!” I say.

“Yeah, but they’re fucking expensive, so this is all we’re getting, boys,” Penny replies.

She raises her glass, and clink them together.

“To Pride!” We all say.

We simultaneously throw the vodka back. It burns my throat terribly. Last time I drank vodka was a few months ago. That ended up with me trying to dance on the bar and Baz desperately pulling me back down. It’s probably a good thing we’re only drinking one. Plastered drunk Simon Snow is a giggling, singing menace.

Baz whistles slightly. “That’s some strong shit, Bunce.”

“Hey it’s our first Pride,” she says, “we deserve to celebrate.”

“Can’t disagree with you there.”

A thumping techno remix of “Closer” comes on. I gasp and clap like a seal.

“I love this song!”

“I’m fully aware,” Baz replies, “you listened to it on repeat for an entire week.”

I tug on his arm. “C’mon let’s dance.”

He looks at me like I’m an extra special idiot. “Are you serious?”

“Look at this face.” I point at my furrowed brow and pinched mouth. “This the very serious face of man who seriously wants to dance to a Chainsmokers song with his boyfriend. So please?”

Baz glances at Penny, eyes pleading. She smirks and chuckles. “Sorry, Basilton, you’re not getting out of this with my help.”

Baz groans, and takes my hand. “Fine,” he says.

“Yay!” I drag him to the dance floor.

We push through the sweaty bodies to an open spot. I start jumping around and moving to the beat as best I can, (I'm not a good dancer). It takes him a second, but Baz joins in. He swings his hips with his arms raised up. Damn, he looks so good.

For once, I don’t feel completely out of place. In the rare cases we ever go dancing, we’re usually the only gay couple there. If I stand too close to Baz or put my arms around him, people give us strange looks, or worse, outright scoffs and sneers. But when I look around, there are two men without an inch between them, and two women their hands on each other. Baz and I aren’t the odd ones out. We fit in. I really, really love that feeling.

“What’s got you smiling so big?” Baz asks with a smirk.

I reach out and drape my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. He holds my hips, curling his long fingers around them. I lean forward and tap my forehead against his. I move to the song along with him, swaying back and forth.

“Just happy to be here with you, love,” I reply.

I can feel his breath on my face as he chuckles. He pulls me closer until there's no space between us. His arms circle around me, enveloping me in his embrace, trailing his fingers up and down my back. Though his skin is cool like always, a warmth spreads over me. He kisses the mole on my neck, the one he always treats like a target.  I run a hand through his soft black hair. He kisses me more, trailing his mouth up and down my skin. I push my hips against him. It quickly dawns on me that I’m practically grinding on Baz, something we’ve never really done before, (not in public that is). But with the mixture of Pride excitement and that one shot of vodka, I really don’t care. Baz grinds down on me, lightly biting the junction between my neck and shoulders. I groan, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head.

“Baz,” I breath out.

“Simon.” His face is still buried my shoulder. I feel the vibration of his voice on my skin. It sort of feels like a question

I tug a bit on his hair, still moving my hips side to side. His jeans are rubbing against my cargo shorts and it feels bloody amazing. If he wasn't holding me up, I think I'd fall down right now. Crowley, I’m getting way too into this.

“Simon?” It’s definitely a question now.

“Yeah?”

He stops moving and slumps against me, letting his hands fall down at his sides.

“My head is killing me,” he groans. “Too loud. Can we go home?”

I chuckle and smooth his hair. “Of course, darling.”

We all stumble into the flat after a half hour tube ride. It's a miracle we made it up the stairs. Penny is barely upright she’s so tired, but it’s not like Baz is doing much better. He’s practically is hanging off me. If it wasn’t for my arm around his waist, he’d probably be on the floor. I'm the only one who's mostly awake.

“Crowley, I’m knackered,” she says.

She drops her purse on the couch and undoes her hair. It explodes in a big puff.

“Night boys. No canoodling on the couch, please.”

Baz merely grunts annoyedly in response. I just chuckle.

“Night night, Pen. Happy Pride.”

She flashes me one last smile before shutting her door. “Happy Pride, Simon.”

Baz is falling down, so I hoist him up more.

“C’mon, Pitch. Let’s get you to bed.”

I pull him towards my room. He’s dragging his feet, making my job much harder.

“For Merlin’s sake, Baz, walk! One foot in front of the other. It’s not too hard.”

He groans and starts to lazily walk. It’s like trying to move a very tall overly tired toddler. I kick the door open as quietly as I can. Baz takes the last few steps before flopping face first on my bed. I sigh and put my hands on my hips.

“Anything you need, Sleeping Beauty?”

He lifts his head up enough so his voice isn’t completely muffled. “I could use some water. I’m bloody parched.”

“Very well.”

He grins and flops back down. “Thank you, my prince Charming.”

I roll my eyes sarcastically. I walk to the kitchen whistling "Closer" softly (don’t want to wake Penelope). As I fill a glass at the sink, my eye catches Penny’s purse. The two Polaroids poke out through the top. Before going back, I snatch the pictures up.

When I return to my room, Baz is still laying face first on the bed, his long legs hanging off the side. I sigh and put down the glass and photographs.

“Baz, you’ve gotta move. You can’t sleep like that”

He lets out a muffled groan. “Watch me.”

I hang my head and sigh. “You so owe me.”

I take his trainers off first, tossing them on the floor. The jeans pose a challenge. Damn this man and his sexy unreasonable fashion sense. But soon they join his sneakers, leaving Baz is his grey boxer briefs. I spin his legs onto the bed. He shimmies up rest his head on the pillow.

“I know you love it, but do you really want to sleep in that shirt?” I ask.

Baz grunts and lazily starts to pull the t-shirt off. After getting his arms out, it gets stuck at the neck, and he gives up. He looks ridiculous, face down in a pillow with his inside out shirt covering his head. Ridiculously adorable, though.

“You’re pathetic.”

He feebly attempts to flip me off. “Fuck off, Snow.”

Instead of just laughing at him like I would’ve over two years ago, I do what a good boyfriend should, and finish pulling his shirt off. He smiles sleepily at me and buries his face in the pillow.

“You still want the water?”

“M-hm.”

“Then sit up. Not going to have you spill it all over my bed.”

He moans, but does what I ask, leaning his back against the wall. He lazily takes the glass from me.

I make my way around the bed towards my side. I tug off my sweat drenched tank top and put it on my dresser along with Baz’s shirt. My shorts and sandals quickly hit the ground. I plop down on the mattress in my boxers.

I’m holding the Polaroids. The one with all three of us is great. Penny and I are grinning like idiots. Baz has a slight smile. It’s nothing compared to the other photo. Baz is smiling so wide it nearly reaches his pointed ears. His usual prideful disdain seems to be gone. He just looks happy, holding me close. I wish he’d let himself look like that more often. But I’m glad he at least looks like that with me, especially on a day where we're supposed to be proud of who we are.

I look over as Baz is finishing his water. He lets a satisfied “ah” and puts the glass on the table. He gives me an exhausted half smile.

“Have fun today, love?”

I smile back, nodding slowly. “Yeah, most definitely. What about you?”

He sighs and sinks down onto the bed. “Absolutely. Got to be loud and queer. What’s better than that?”

I put the photos on my side table and sink down with him. “Nothing, obviously.”

Baz hums in agreement.

I drape an arm over his chest and move closer. “We should do this every year, now. ”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I like it. Being out there. With you.”

I smile and squeeze his shoulder. “Me too.”

He turns over to face me. I can see a hint of beautiful grey under his mostly closed eyelids. He’s smiling in a relaxed way, too tired to hide his emotions. He leans forward and gives me a small peck, running a hand through my hair. In this moment, we truly seem like a completely normal gay couple, just resting as we come down from Pride high. Lying there, foreheads together, half naked, completely knackered, and utterly content.

Baz cups my jaw, moving a thumb over my cheek.

“Happy Pride, Simon,” he whispers.

I place a hand on his back and pull him closer. Our noses brush against each other. We grin like two very exhausted, very happy idiots. It feels like the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Happy Pride, Baz.”

AN: Hope you liked that! I'm not from London but I've been to Pride parades so I based this off my own experience. My first Pride, I wasn't even out as queer. I am out now though. Incredibly so. You can ask my lady friends ;) My first out Pride was amazing. I really felt like I was part of a community, surrounded by people just like me. I tried to capture that feeling as best I could. I think Simon and Baz, one unknowingly in the closet and one torturously deep in it, would feel similar to that. Again, hope you all enjoyed it :)

These are shirts I based everyone's off of. (Though I made Baz's a t-shirt because long sleeves at Pride=death)  

Baz

Simon

Penny

[shadowphoenixrider]

Where We Are

(As if I wouldn’t do a fic of Draggka and Khadgar for Valentine’s Day. Hope you’re prepared for some fluff, because that’s what I do best! Tagging my lovely ladies, @elfgirl931 and @galleywinter, as usual, and I hope you all enjoy!)

The time for Khadgar’s least favourite festival of the year had come around once again; Love in the Air. The archmage actively avoided the event, stubbornly holing himself up with his books and assorted bits of research that he never usually got around to working on, but became extremely compelling when he was trying to avoid interacting with anyone beyond his close friends.

Whilst outsiders thought that it was because he was being a cynical old fart like his former master, the reality was much more different. Stripped of his youth at just seventeen during the struggle with Medivh, Khadgar had learnt to live with his now elderly appearance, but ‘Love in the Air’ always struck far too close to home for the mage. It was a sore reminder of something he could never have and would never be able to experience.

Or, at least, that’s what he had thought for a very long time. He had not reckoned on meeting the Darkspear huntress Draggka on the campaign against the Iron Horde, however.

“Ya know what it be soon, right?” She’d asked him several days before today, swinging herself onto her venomhide ravasaur at Trueshot Lodge, after a discussion of Feltotem activities in the foothills. The beast had gnashed its teeth eagerly, Khadgar making sure to avoid touching its deadly scales. “D’ya tink you could get a day to yaself sometime durin’ dat? Sometime soon, maybe?”

“I dare say I could make some time.” He’d nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Any particular reason why, Huntmaster?”

“You’ll see!” The troll had grinned widely, tapping her heels against the dangerous beast’s black hide, sending it springing away down the mountain before he could question her further.

Khadgar wasn’t sure if he’d been more excited by the thought of spending a day with his lover without interruption, or by finding out just what she had planned for him. It was difficult to resist the temptation to pull a few strings to get any idea of what the troll had in mind, but the mage assured himself that the reward would be sweeter if he stayed blissfully ignorant.

“Ya said you be free now, Archmage?” He smiled as he heard Draggka enter his room, and he closed the tome he was trying (and failing) to read.

“Indeed I am, Huntmaster.” He replied, setting the book aside and picking up Atiesh instead, making his way over to the troll and her raptor companion. “As far as the Council knows, I’m helping you clear up any remainders of the Houndmaster’s pets that may have been released on the Broken Isles.” He chuckled. “I’ve assured them that even if I’m working as bait, I couldn’t be safer under yours and Spike’s watch.” He grinned as the the raptor huffed his approval.

“I be surprised dat dey bought dat excuse.” Draggka said, folding her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“So was I. But I was insistent enough that they let me go. I can be pretty persuasive!” Khadgar grinned as the troll rolled her eyes, and he gave her a once over, curiosity starting to bubble eagerly inside him. “I’m intrigued to find out what you have in mind for today, Huntmaster. It’s not often you keep secrets from me.”

Draggka chuckled, her amber eyes sparkling mischievously as she pulled something from one of the pouches slung from her belt. It was a small stone, akin to a hearthstone, but it had a simple light green teleport rune inscribed into it instead of the blue swirl, along with two secondary symbols underneath it. The archmage raised an eyebrow.

“A teleport stone for two plus raptor?” Khadgar grinned. “You must know a powerful mage that isn’t me to get one of those made. Or you parted with a lot of gold.”

“Bit of both.” Draggka admitted ruefully. “But I’m sure it be worth it. I hope.” She studied him a moment. “Can I ask you to close ya eyes, when we go? I…” She smiled shyly, and his heart skipped. “I be wantin’ to surprise ya.”

The mage chuckled.

“I got that impression.” Khadgar smiled warmly. “Yes, I can do that. I trust you, Draggka. I’m reassured that you’re not going to dump me in the middle of a Legion camp, by the fact you’re coming too.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless, of course, that’s the Horde’s idea of romance?”

“I tink da blood elves would disagree!” She laughed. “No, it be peaceful an’ quiet. Away from tings, and people dat could see us.”

“I like the sound of that.” Khadgar drew close to her, sliding Ateish into the buckle loops on his robes and belt. “I’m ready when you are, Huntmaster.”

“Close ya eyes, den.” She reminded him, which he did, feeling Spike’s scaled body lean against his leg as a reassurance. How interesting it was that he could trust the raptor as much as the hunter could, Khadgar mused to himself.

“Here we go.” Draggka said, and Khadgar felt the stone’s magic flare as the troll activated it, wrapping around them. He couldn’t help but reach out with his own magic, strengthening and speeding the process, as well as trying to divine where Draggka was taking him to. South?

His question was answered when Khadgar felt ground under his feet again, and a slight warm breeze through his silver hair. He almost opened his eyes, but managed to stop himself, taking the moment to let his other senses fill in the gaps. Trees whispered around them, a stream gurgled nearby to his left, and when he took a breath in, he could smell damp moss and tree bark and…flowers?

“You can open your eyes now.” Draggka said, Spike leaving his side.

When he did, the archmage was greeted by a glorious sight that even his other senses couldn’t properly prepare him for. They were in a forest of thick-trunked trees and a brook snaking lazily through them, the trees close enough for the forest to be deep and thick, but not so tightly packed to be dark and oppressive.

But what caught the breath from his lungs were the blossoms. The trees seemed to be weighed down by the large pale pink flowers, and each time the breeze played amongst them, petals would tumble from the branches like snow, carpeting the rich verdant grass under his feet. Khadgar couldn’t think of another time he’d been so struck by the sheer beauty of a place, and he was equally staggered at how at ease he felt. This place felt untouched, untainted by war or strife, or even inconsequential worry.

“This…This is incredible…” Khadgar breathed. “Truly remarkable…” He turned to Draggka. “Where are we?”

“Welcome to Pandaria, Archmage.” She grinned widely.

“Pandaria?” He was used to the fable island being described first in books of mythology, and then in second-hand reports from those in the Alliance and Kirin Tor who’d travelled there. To think he was actually here…He could feel his magic humming to the surface of his fingers in his excitement.

“Yeah. We be in da Jade Forest, not far from da Temple of da Jade Serpent. Yu’lon.” The troll said, and he could hear reverence in her voice as she spoke the Celestial’s name. And…something else, as if she realized she was coming full circle.

“Draggka?” He prompted.

“I spoke to her.” The hunter replied, her eyes far away, looking past him. “She be telling me: ‘someday, ya may be called to be defending all dat be dear to you. When dat day comes, seek all da light and wonder of da world…and fight.’“

A shiver passed over his body.

“I see.” He murmured, turning the words over his mind, and knowing he’d reached her conclusion.

“I always said I be wanting to take ya to da places I’ve been.” Her amber eyes returned to him, changing the subject. “Dis be my favourite. It be…perfect.”

“Yes.” Khadgar nodded, smiling and grateful for the diversion. “It is.” The wind stirred the trees, a flurry of petals sweeping around them, a couple of them settling on his shoulders like feathers. “How did you know that there would be blossoms at this time?” He asked.

“I checked.” She grinned. “I might be a troll, but I be knowing sometings ‘bout romance!”

“I can’t think of a better place you could have brought me, or one more suited to Love in the Air.” Khadgar said, stepping closer and plucking some pink petals out of her wild crimson hair. “Thank you, my dear.”

His heart skipped a beat as she smiled shyly.

“I’m glad ya tink so.” Was her reply, and the mage couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her, letting the ever present worry that someone might see them slide off his back as he looped his arms around her waist, making sure to avoid tangling himself in her bow. She did similar, and they lingered for a moment, bathing in the serenity that surrounded them and each other.

“So, what now?” Khadgar asked when they pulled away what felt like half an hour later.

Draggka chuckled softly, smiling weakly.

“Ah, I not be tinking much past showin’ ya dis place,” she said, glancing away. “I just wanted to be spending time wit ya witout worryin’ bout demons or people seein’ us.”

Khadgar smiled warmly.

“That’s all I want too, my dear,” he said. “Nothing would please me more.” He stepped back from her, offering her his arm. “Shall we walk together, you and I?”

Draggka raised an eyebrow, a grin playing on her lips.

“Dis a human ting?” She asked, and Khadgar chuckled, realizing he’d stumbled into another of their cultural differences.

“Appears to be,” he said. “It’s a gesture of…courtly origin? I’ve seen nobles do it. A person offers their arm to the other to ‘lead’ them, if you will.” His brows furrowed. “Hmm. Now I think of it, it should be you offering your arm.”

“Be sounding like da other person be a kinda trophy.” The troll commented.

“I…suppose it could be seen as that.” The mage admitted. “Though I would never consider you that. Indeed, I would be honoured to have you on my arm. Because I know you wanted to be there. With me. B-But if you don’t want to, that’s, that’s fine too.” He added hurriedly, before Draggka chuckled, resting a hand on his proffered arm.

“It be fine, Khadgar. I know what ya meant.” She smiled a moment, before curling her own arm in offering. “Would I be havin’ da honour of da leader of da Kirin Tor on my arm for dis walk?”

Khadgar laughed.

“Of course, Huntmaster.” He grinned, looping his arm under hers and resting his large hand in the crook of her muscled arm. “Lead on.”

Draggka led him on a meandering path through the thick, blossoming trees, vaguely following the clear stream. Bees hummed loudly as they flitted from flower to flower, spoilt for choice. Larger wasps, sounding as vicious as they looked, also buzzed between the trees, seemingly paying the pair little notice, but Khadgar noted the troll made sharp deviations to avoid them. Cranes lingered at the banks of the flowing water like sentinels, white feathered with black tips that looked as if they’d been dipped in ink. They eyed the two warily but did not bolt, not until Spike charged playfully towards them, the birds making alarmed honking noises that conflicted with their dignified appearance.

“I think we should keep an eye on your raptor, my dear.” The mage commented. “He appears to be stirring up trouble, and I have a feeling he is going to try and repeat what happened in Talador.”

Spike sensed he was being talked about, and turned his deep blue eyes onto them briefly, before he trotted away, looking distinctly miffed. Draggka chuckled.

“Dat time when he knocked me over an’ ya had to be saving me from landin’ in da stream?” She asked.

“The very same.” He nodded, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he thought of it. It had felt so long ago now, almost another lifetime, and yet he was sure it had only been a year or so. “He was quite insistent we get together.”

Draggka laughed throatily, thrilling Khadgar’s heart.

“You could say dat. I thought he just be making trouble because he could. Shoulda realized he were only being dat way wid you.”

“For my part, I really didn’t want to argue with a raptor.” The mage said. “I saw how easily he tore apart the Iron Horde, so you can imagine I was a little bit reluctant to disagree with him.” He glanced to his side to see the said raptor drinking from the stream, before he returned his gaze to the hunter beside him. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too.” Draggka rested her head against his shoulder, ignoring the cool metal scales against her neck. “I remember ya called me ‘friend’. It were wonderful to hear ya say dat.”

“Do you think you loved me then?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Sorry, if you don’t want to answer that-”

“No, it be fine.” He caught her smile from the corner of his eye. “I tink…I tink I were falling for ya. Talking wit you…it be like I forget I be Horde. I forget dat we supposed to be hatin’ each other’s guts. I thought peace would be me an’ Spike hunting in da wilderness, exploring da world witout worryin’ dat we be called to some battlefield somewhere.”

She looked up at him. “Now I tink peace is being wit you and him, in places like dis. Peace be…Peace be dis, right now.”

For a moment, Khadgar was lost for words. Although he knew her affection for him was real and true, a part of him had always reminded him that hunters were loners by nature, and he could never compete with her need to roam solo.

The archmage understood that, and knew Draggka meant no disrespect when she lingered in the wilds for several days. Indeed, he did enjoy his own company in those times, though he had requested that she send him the odd letter, just to ease his mind. The hunter had obliged, often writing to him in Orcish to hide their communications, although she did write some passages in Zandali to make him practise what he’d learned from her. What was written in her mother tongue was the reward for his hard work, so Khadgar had learned to set aside plenty of time for those letters with Zandali in them. And to lock the door.

To hear that she considered him on a par to her world, if not more…Khadgar stopped, gently pulling the troll around to face him.

“You really mean that?” He asked, almost smacking himself at how foolish that sounded. “I mean-”

“I do.” Draggka interrupted him, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, feeling her calloused fingers trace over his pale skin. “Ya mean everyting to me, Khadgar. I love ya.”

“I love you too.” He replied, unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Peace is wherever you are, Draggka. Wherever we are. Unfettered by our worries, our responsibilities…Just the two of us, alone, somewhere as beautiful as this. That is peace to me. This is peace.”

The Huntmaster smiled up at him, one that was so earnest and open it made her orange amber eyes dance, and the archmage couldn’t resist the need to kiss her, to hold her, leaning in close-

A splashing sound caught his attention, then a flash of movement in the corner of his eyes, making the mage look up, too late. Spike slammed into their legs, sending them both sprawling with a shout. Khadgar fell backwards and hit the ground first and Draggka landed on top of him, fallen cherry blossoms spraying up from their impact.

“Ow.” He grunted.

“You be alright, Khadgar?” Draggka asked, moving into his line of sight.

“I’m fine.” He nodded. “Nothing injured but my pride.” His blue eyes flicked over her face. “Yourself?”

“I be fine too.” The hunter chuckled then, raising an eyebrow. “What was dat about keepin’ an eye on him?”

“Ah.” Khadgar chuckled throatily. “It appears we have failed in that task.” He grinned up at her, about to make a comment that the Huntmaster of the Unseen Path should be able to to keep an eye on her own animal companion, but when he met her eyes, it died on his lips.

Draggka was gazing down at him with an almost wistful smile on her face, her orange eyes warm with affection and admiration. Even now, Khadgar couldn’t quite believe anyone could look at him as if he meant everything to them, that someone could care so wholeheartedly about him, that they could love him.

She reached down then, brushing away some petals that had settled in his silver hair.

“Ya know, you look really nice wid all these petals in ya hair,” she said, fingers drifting to his cheek, and Khadgar leaned into them, sighing softly.

“I could say the same.” He replied, raising his own hand to gesture at the couple that were balanced precariously within her mohawk. “Flowers and feathers.” He mused, touching the black feathers woven into her braids. “A beautiful combination for a beautiful troll.”

She chuckled shyly, and the mage was delighted to see her face darken under her light blue fur. He still recalled the look on her face when he had rolled an Orcish greeting from his lips to the Frostwolves, the at-the-time foreign leap in his heart to see her blush and her sudden shyness. He’d assumed it had just been surprise that trolls could blush; now he knew better, that it had been the first steps into something more than just comradeship and the first growths of friendship. And he knew now that his voice had other effects upon her, almost a magic unto itself.

“Ya be a terrible flirt.” Draggka tutted, shaking her head.

“Me?” Khadgar feigned wide-eyed shock.

“Yes, you.” She grinned, giggling. Her eyes flicked away from him to survey the area. “Ya know, I tink Spike did dis here on purpose.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Khadgar asked, ducking her playful swat.

“I was just tinking it be a bit suspicious dat he be charging us near da only pile of tree flowers dat I be seeing here. Dat’s all.”

Khadgar propped himself up on his elbows, looking around himself for the first time. Draggka was right; he was lying on a large pile of cherry blossoms, which had cushioned his fall, and this was only pile he could see from where he was lying.

“Rather coincidental.” He admitted, briefly looking for their red-scaled assailant, but finding nothing. The archmage looked back to the hunter, and took the moment to admire her as she too scouted for her partner.

She was gorgeous, beautiful, and reminded him of a sleek jungle panther; both elegant and deadly, her ‘savage’ appearance belying her intelligence. Whilst most trolls were cunning, Draggka in particular had a deep curiosity for all things, akin to his own, and many times on Draenor they’d found themselves talking about every topic under the sun.

Not to mention she was poetry in motion in battle. She and Spike were so synchronised they could have been one, and Draggka could loose arrows quicker than he could count, and hit targets accurately enough to make an elven ranger green with envy. He still remembered the battle where she fired a shot past him to hit an Iron Horde orc behind him, the fletching all but kissing his cheek as it went, yet leaving no mark behind.

Khadgar chuckled to himself. He was sure the look on his face had matched his friend Turalyon’s when he’d first clapped eyes on Alleria. What would the paladin say to him now? Would he have teased Khadgar as frequently as the mage had teased him? Would his friend have encouraged him to pursue his heart as Khadgar had tried to bring him and Alleria back together again? He pushed the thoughts away, not wishing to entertain their melancholy at present.

“Whatcha tinking about?” Draggka asked, tilting her head as she looked at him, a smile playing around her short tusks.

“Just you.” He replied, smiling back. “How beautiful you are. How much I love you.”

“Tinking da same ting about ya, Bal’a.” Draggka said, Khadgar’s heart skipping a beat at the Zandali pet name. “I love ya.”

“I love you too.” Khadgar lifted himself up to meet her kiss, lingering as long as his arms would let him. “You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed this festival.” His smile became wistful. “I…I never thought…anyone could love an old man like me.”

Draggka smiled, shifting herself back to straddle over his hips, and she gently tugged on his collar to encourage him to sit up. When he did, she settled into his lap, cupping his head in her hands to make him look up in her amber eyes.

“Den let me prove otherwise.” Draggka murmured, pulling him into a deep, loving kiss that he melted into, loosely looping his arms around her waist and eyes sliding closed. Her lips were as soft as her touch, the tusks gently brushing his face seeming to ground him even as Khadgar felt himself unravel, his mind’s incessant chattering finally silence to just let himself…be. Safe in the knowledge that they were alone, their burdens and fears were cast to the sudden wind that whipped the petals up around them, a tiny storm both human and troll paid no mind to, too enthralled by one another.

Little did the pair know, they were being watched. Spike stood beneath a particularly large, gnarled tree, and he huffed softly to see the pair embrace, looking to his side. A young, black and white pandaren cub were perched upon one of the tree’s thick roots, her pink eyes gleaming. She smiled to herself, her fur shimmering a bright jade.

I see you took my advice, little one.

[kansascityhappenings]

Joe’s Weather Blog: Brief cold respite then cold again + more snow? (WED-2/7)

Good afternoon…it didn’t feel too bad out there today, despite the temperatures being in the 20s…the lack of wind and full sunshine has been a plus to providing a bit of a better day out there. The snows from last night north of KC mainly have now turned into a full fledged winter storm in parts of the east where heavy snow is falling in the interior northeast part of the country. For us…we actually have a nice but windy Thursday ahead then we tank once again heading into the weekend. There is what seems to be a very similar set-up for perhaps some snow in the region as well…but I’m not overly excited about it right now.

Forecast:

Tonight: Mostly clear and not as cold with lows hanging on around 20°. Temperatures may actually warm up a few degrees as we head towards daybreak.

Thursday: Mostly sunny and more seasonable. Highs into the 40s but the winds will be gusting to around 30 MPH making it feel chiller

Friday: A cold front will be coming through during the morning. So we may start reasonable with lows around 30° then see falling temperatures with blustery conditions in the afternoon down through the 20s. Wind chills dropping into the teens

Discussion:

Well the snow from yesterday was a northern MO event…I saw some flurries at my house later in the evening but we couldn’t even by a dusting of snow from this…

I’m not even sure I want to write about it anymore actually…just one of those events that held some potential but never got it’s act together for KC…even up north…there was enough dry air chewing at the snow as it was falling…that northern MO couldn’t crack 3″ worth it appears.

Another good thing about clear weather today…you can get a good feel for the snow on the ground via the visible satellite picture.

This is one of my favorite things to show you. You can make out the terrain, the lakes, the rivers and so many cool things. IA Especially is neat to look at…almost like veins in a human body…you can see the various rivers etc up there.

If you’re wondering where the “storm” that was never a storm to begin with for the Plains went…well here it is towards the eastern part fo the country. Radar via Penn State.

That’s a good snow thumping across the interior NE and parts of New England.

For a snow-lover in the Plains…we shed a tear or 1000

Hey it could be worse…at least we’ve had 5+”…look at Columbia, MO. Then on the far right side of the map…Erie, PA with almost 150″!

This is the 22nd least snowy winter (so far) in KC weather history…I’ve tossed a couple of winters out because of missing data…

What’s interesting to me about the above chart…is that 6 of the winters since 2000 are in the top 22 through today.

As far as the weather goes…overnight we’re going to see more of a southern wind shift…that will allow milder air to start moving towards the area…with the snow on the ground, it will initially be a muted warm-up on Thursday but with enough wind…we should really see a pop into the 40s in the afternoon I think. Also of note the winds just above the surface, a couple of thousand feet up will be cranking away at 40-50 MPH or so…so it may get rather windy in the afternoon.

Then things change on Friday as another strong front comes barreling through the region during the morning. We won’t be that cold at daybreak, but we should be a lot colder with blustery conditions for the afternoon rush. Here is the forecast map for Friday at Noon…the cold front will be on top of us (if it comes through a bit earlier we may get colder quicker on Friday).

This will be another stout front…and temperatures over the weekend will again be well below average.

Speaking of which…so far this month we’re running almost 9° or so below average.

Then on Saturday into Sunday we’re going to have to watch for some snow chances. The GFS and even to some extent the NAM models are somewhat aggressive with this. The GFS is definitely doing this quite a bit…the NAM model though hasn’t really. The EURO doesn’t do a lot with this though except sort of do what seems to be what every other snow risk has done around here for the last couple of months…and odds are it may be more correct. Northern MO towards the IA border may get 2-4″ or so of fluffy and powdery snow…but locally it’s tough right now to imagine more than our, now very typical, dusting to 2″ type event.

Again there will be a fight happening with low level dry air…winds aloft from the west-south-west and tracking tiny little waves that may or may not do anything while fighting the dry low level air in place in the region.

The latest EURO has this idea for the next 10 days in terms of total moisture…

I mean come on…and this dryness, especially in central and western KS into parts of western OK and down through TX is now really getting to be more and more of a concern out there. The last time Amarillo had .01″ or more of moisture was back on October 19th!

The following map showing the amount of precipitation isn’t perfect…but I think you get the idea…this is over the last 90 days…and look towards SW KS/W OK and the TX Panhandle

Not good and odds are it won’t be getting any better for them at least..and probably for us to into the next few weeks. I want to leave you with this 10 day forecast of the upper air pattern (the colors are the wind speeds or isotachs)…this is for the 17th of FEB…via Pivotal Weather and is from the GFS Ensemble model.

It really is virtually the same thing we’ve seen all winter long…really since late October I think. NW/WNW flow is not a flow that generates storm systems and big rain/snow makers for us.

Let’s go even farther down the road…to the 23rd…

See the similarities…why expect anything different as an outcome then? That’s what I’m wondering about this afternoon.

On that note…have a great Wednesday and today’s feature photo comes from…Amber Richeson down towards Spring Hill

Joe

      from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2018/02/07/joes-weather-blog-brief-cold-respite-then-cold-again-more-snow-wed-2-7/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2018/02/07/joes-weather-blog-brief-cold-respite-then-cold-again-more-snow-wed-2-7/