#views from four different windows. the snow has coated absolutely everything

[gingerteaonthetardis]

this morning—

#views from four different windows. the snow has coated absolutely everything #abbey.jpeg #winter tag

[ussgallifrey]

Winter Wonderland

✦ Summary: Bucky awakens to the aftermath of a blizzard and several eager children begging to go outside. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Word Count: 1.6k ✦ Author’s Note: I was working on a Steve/Reader oneshot, and then it snowed and my husband took our oldest outside to build a snowman and this happened. 

The heavy blanket of sleep is broken by the shimmering light dancing off the windowpane. Dreams pull away with a hazy tide, reality tugs him closer. The air is chilled, and he has half the mind to tuck his nose down into the pillow - seeking out a bit of warmth in the otherwise frigid room. 

Next to him, under the sheets and blankets and crocheted blanket, you doze on. Not even slightly bothered by the drop in temperature. Though perhaps that was just him, with a body more susceptible to the sharp aches and pains of a cold day.

Your chest rises and falls with a steady beat, constant and encompassing of something bright in his morning-haggard mind. Bucky watches you sleep, traces the curve of your body, turned away from him like you had been when you had first fallen asleep. Curled into his side, one hand on your hip and the other above your head.

Only now, he wants to draw you back in. Savor that easy comfort of his wife’s warmth pressed into him. Wake you with kisses and praise and everything he can give. But you deserve more, so much more. And sleep is a precious commodity these days, one he will gladly give above all else if given the chance.

Lazy thoughts intrude his mind as he dips his hand down, just cupping the curve of your protruding bump. That gorgeous swell under the delicate fabric of your nightgown. It makes his head go all fuzzy at the thought of another little Barnes. Right there under his palm, gently kicking away.

He has half a mind to tell the kid off, to let you sleep a while longer. But there’s a sudden clatter in the room next door. Bucky can hear an excited squeal followed by a series of hushes. Rubbing the swell of your belly one last time, he finally extracts himself from the covers and is hit with an instant blast of cold. The housecoat at the end of the bed will do little to fend off the temperature, but at least it’s something.

Pausing outside of the door, Bucky listens to the muffled voices inside. When he opens it rather suddenly, he finds George and Ruthie trying to corral Richie down from his perch on the bookcase. 

“Daddy,” his daughter is quick to lament. “We tried to get him down, honest. We weren’t trying to wake Mama.”

It takes three strides to cross the room and pull the second youngest down, depositing him in a fit of giggles onto his bed.

“Come on, you’re gonna wake Mom!” George hushes harshly with a finger drawn to his lips. 

That perks the four-year-old right up, unfortunately, “I wanna see Mama.”

Bucky pulls him back by the collar of his pajamas before he can make it a second step across the floor. Hands under the arms and Richie is brought to his lap. Staring down at identical blue eyes, he ruffles the mop of hair on his son’s head.

“What were you doing up there anyway, bud?”

His eyes widen with pure wonder, “Snowing outside! ”

He clambers up on his feet, straining to look out the window. Bucky cranes his neck and ends up standing just to look out. Past the iced-over pane, he can just make out the opposite row of Brownstones. But between them is a thick blanket of snow. Beautiful and glittering in the morning light. Not a soul in sight, or car for that matter.

In fact, he peers down the street, catching the glimmer of one buried under a substantial amount of snow. The news had called for a storm, but he hadn’t been expecting this much.

“Dad,” George beckons with a hopeful tone, holding Mary on his hip. “Can we go?”

The kids seem to surround him in a moment of pouted lips and pleading eyes. And all he sees is your face reflected back, and he’s never been able to say no to you - it certainly wouldn’t change with your kids.

After a relenting yes, they scatter off in search of clothes and boots. A bathroom trip for Ruth and a diaper change for Mary. He slips back into the sanctuary of the bedroom to find you, thankfully, undisturbed. Trousers on and suspenders snapped in place. Bucky snatches the knitted scarf from the heat register where it had been drying overnight.

Coats checked, buttons realigned, gloves and mittens tightened and boots double knotted, and lastly a hat for each head. George leads the way, taking the first step into the freshly fallen snow. It crunches under his feet as the rest of the clan makes their way out of the house.

Richie bounces with glee and Mary nearly falls out of Bucky’s grip in her state of wonderment, trying to grab the snow from the railing. The steps are covered, almost to Richie’s knee, but a path is quickly made, and once they’re on the sidewalk, Bucky lets them loose.

They seem entirely unsure at first - as if they were disturbing a moment of full tranquility. But the moment quickly passes when a handful of snow is thrown. And then eager shrieks and screams give way.

From there, the neighborhood seems to awaken. Stumbling out into the remnants of the blizzard with curious expressions and amazement. The kids all run off in different directions. A snowball fight ensues by the corner, Ruthie seems to have traveled off to make snow angels away from the chaos. Some of them are trying to slide down the back of snow-covered cars to surprisingly good results.

He watches from the sidewalk, shoveling a path with a languid pace. No need to rush, the streets wouldn’t be cleared for a day, if not longer. For now, it was a true winter wonderland.

Mary wanders back over to his side. Cherub cheeks have gone red, with a bright nose to match. He can’t help the smile that bubbles up at the sight of her. So, he gets down at her level and lets her nuzzle her face into the shirt under his opened wool coat.

A snowman, small and modest, is done up at the bottom of the stairs, just beyond the sidewalk. In perfect view of a certain window. They convince him to give up his hat, and he does. Forgoing the provided warmth for their delight. 

They all seem quite proud of their work, scattering off shortly after, joining in on the pulled sled race at the end of the street. 

Bucky surveys the scene, catching a glimpse of each child happily lost in the bliss of winter snow. Slowly, he turns, following the wisp of breath caught in the air. And then he lands on you.

Staring out the bedroom window, you give a little wave. And with a rather foolish grin on his face, he waves back. You’re covering your mouth with your hand, an amused look playing in your eyes. He wants to walk back inside, swoop you into his arms and make you startle with the chill of his lips. But a fat glob of snow is hurled at the back of his head.

Frozen ice drips down his neck and seeps into his coat, he startles with a rough and undignified gasp. Chasing after the brave boy who had dared to throw it. Launching over the drifts, he catches George by the waist and hauls him over his back with screams of protest.

When the sun is high in the sky, they make their way back inside. Some protesting, some grateful (him, mostly). You greet them with a kiss as you pull each wet hat off their head. Pressing painted lips to rosy cheeks. He gets the longest, of course. Cupping that beautiful curve of stomach resting between you as you rustle his untamed trusses, damp from the snow.

“Couldn’t even warn a fella,” he accuses lightly, tapping the tip of your nose with a cold finger.

You give a little pout, your eyes sparkle, “And here I thought my husband could handle the savage marauders.”

His hands settle on your hips, swaying lightly in the entryway as the kids deposit their coats and boots by the fireplace.

“They’re ruthless, darlin’. Absolutely ruthless.”

As if to further his point, Richie comes running over with a roar. His hands and face are freezing as they slam into Bucky’s chest. He can’t help the gasp of air that catches in his throat. You smile down at him before sweeping the four-year-old to the kitchen table where you have a spread awaiting them. 

And, oh yes, coffee. 

You patiently listen to each story, of glorious adventures in the snow. Chiding lightly, reprimanding here, swiping a napkin over sticky fingers and stained lips there. You move with a grace and ease that he’ll never achieve. And with that glorious bump impeding your movement to boot!

Bucky’s content to just watch the scene play out. Of two children reeling over a full day off from school with a seemingly endless bounty of opportunities awaiting them outside the door. You catch his gaze across the table.

As much as he would have loved to stay in that heavenly bed with you all morning, knowing you got a small reprieve from the usual madness is enough to make Bucky feel truly content. He nurses his mug of steaming hot brew, holding your stare. Your eyes glisten with something sweet. 

And later, when the kids are rushing back outside and he’s got you well and truly wrapped up in his arms, he preens. Not a bad way to start the day, indeed.

Permanent Tag List: @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​​ | @majesticavenger​​​ | @diinofayce​​​ | @lambs-to-the-cosmic-slaughter​​​ | @weasleyworshipper​​​​ | @s-trawberryv-eins​ | @livvy-barnes​​​

Want to be added? Send me an ask ❤

#bucky barnes x female reader #40s!bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #40s!bucky x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fan fic #my fic

[ratedbangtann]

✧˚₊‧𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 - 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ✧˚₊‧ 

𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 || 𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙎𝙚𝙤𝙠𝙟𝙞𝙣 

 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚔𝚓𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖...

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet fluff. Minor mentions of sexual content. Song: Winter Wonderland by Michael Bublé ✧˚₊‧

"Babe, where did you put my thermal socks?" Seokjin wailed through the dorm. He was frantically packing, having left it to the night before you flew to get his act together.

"In the drawer where they always are!" you yelled back at him from the kitchen as you cooked for not only him, but the rest of the boys too. You were much more relaxed than Jin; probably because you had packed two days ago and knew exactly where all your things were, ready to go.

"Can't believe you're going to Lapland... I'm so jealous!" Taehyung whined from where he sat on top of the kitchen counter. "Why can't we all go together? It'd be more fun with all of us!"

"Because, Tae-Tae, Mommy and Daddy need some time alone away from you kids," you teased, whacking the side of his thigh with a wooden spoon. Yoongi – who was sat at the dinner table with his lyric notebook – chuckled at that. Jin had booked this getaway just for the two of you to spend some time together alone. When the boys had complained – particularly the maknaes – he still wouldn't give in; you needed some y/n and Seokjin time.

"Ow!" Tae cried out, rubbing his thigh and pouting. "Mommy is mean." You chuckled at him.

"Food's ready," you called to the rest of the dorm, various other members practically crawling out of their bedrooms like zombies. Seokjin stormed out with his brows threaded together in annoyance.

"I swear, packing is the worst part of travelling," he grumbled, sitting in one of the chairs with you next to him as he picked up his chopsticks to eat the noodles you'd made for the group.

"Lapland was your idea, Jin. You left it last minute," you jeered. "Besides, it's going to be so cute. We've been together nearly four years and we've never done anything like this before, just us," you shoved a mouthful of noodles into your mouth, smiling as you chewed. Not that you minded your vacations usually including the rest of Bangtan, but you couldn't wait to have some alone time with the man you loved.

Jin smirked as he wound his noodles around his chopsticks, loving the idea of spending time alone with you too. He knew you loved Christmas, that's why Lapland was his first suggestion when you said you wanted a vacation before the holidays. Five days and four nights in your own little winter wonderland.

"If you'd actually let me help you pack, we'd get things done a lot quicker," you suggested.

"No!" he exclaimed suddenly. You jumped back a little, your eyes widening in shock. "I'm a big boy... I-I can do it myself."

"Okay... Weirdo. Eat your food," you nodded towards his bowl and continued to chow down.

*****

The first thing you noticed when you stepped off the plane? Baltic. Absolutely bloody freezing cold. Korea got cold in Winter, sure, but this? You needed some damn long-johns or something to survive this cold.

Trying to ignore it, you and Jin hopped on your transfer to the accommodation he had booked; a chalet in what was known as Tundrea. Essentially, a large wooden house decorated with modern yet rustic furniture. You had a hot tub, large living space, your own kitchen, a balcony to the master bedroom...

You both shrugged your parkas off and Jin hauled your bags up to the bedroom as you explored a little, checking out the views of the resort from the upstairs windows. It was truly beautiful, large fir trees coated in layers of thick snow; the ground completely white, sun illuminating it brightly.

He'd really gone all out when he booked this. You knew to expect grand, but this was incredible. Seokjin didn't do things by half. Not when it came to you...

"I've booked us a dinner tonight, but activities start tomorrow. We've only got another hour of daylight left and after that flight, I need my beauty sleep," Jin said as he stepped in behind you by the window, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No amount of beauty sleep is gonna help you," you joked. "But that's fine; wonderful even. Jet lag will hit soon anyway."

"This place is beautiful, huh?" he admired, staring out at the winter scenes. "They said we can see the Northern lights from here. Pretty much anywhere around here actually, if the conditions are right."

"Wow... That would be incredible. I always wanted to see them," you really had been spoilt this Christmas. "Perfect," you hummed in satisfaction, laying your head back on his shoulder. He leaned down to peck a sweet kiss to your neck.

*****

"Seokjin, come on!" you whined from the bottom of the stairs in your cabin. He'd been faffing about in the bedroom for almost an hour, seemingly doing nothing but rummaging through suitcases and bags in a panic. "What are you looking for?"

He suddenly appeared at the top of the steps, jogging down them quickly.

"Never mind, found it. Let's go!" he shuffled into his snow boots and linked his arm with yours, dragging you out into the snow.

He'd planned your husky experience for today, getting to feed and pet the huskies that would be pulling your snowmobiles around. You couldn't wait; you loved dogs so much and these huskies were so, so beautiful.

You were given the chance to play with them a little, spend time with them before they were linked up to your snowmobiles.

You and Jin became competitive, racing your dogs over and over and speeding through the snow. You'd never experienced anything like this before and it was just magical, yet only the beginning of what would be the most sensational getaway you had ever had.

Just as much as you had wanted to spend time with the huskies, Jin wanted to go ice fishing. You didn't mind, this trip was for both of you and fishing was relaxing enough, one of Jin's favourite hobbies. You didn't think you'd be as good company as Yoongi may have been for this activity, but you'd certainly try your best.

Jin was a natural at it, obviously. His fishing experience came in handy despite the different techniques used and you just loved watching him get so excited when he caught his first fish. By the time you were done the sun had started to set, and the instructor lit the firepit to start cooking your catches. He did all the nasty stuff – gutting and chopping them up – but Jin had insisted he helped to cook. He wanted to learn, wanted to cook his catches for his girl. It was a humorous little display of masculinity but so charming.

"What's the plan now?" you asked, checking your phone for the time. It was still early evening despite the darkening skyline, and you wanted to do more, to explore more. Jin finished his mouthful of food before talking.

"Hot tub and champagne. I was going to suggest the northern lights, but the cloud cover is going to ruin that. Tomorrow is forecast clear," he shoved another mouthful of food into his mouth, pouting his lips as he chewed.

"Sounds good to me," you beamed, finishing off your meals in peace.

*****

From the hot tub, you watched Jin scurrying across the decking to get into the warmth of the water. The freezing air was biting at his skin, the idiot completely forgetting to put a robe on at least before he came outside in just his swimming shorts.

"You're supposed to wear a robe, Jin..." you laughed as he climbed into the tub.

"Shut up," he retorted, teeth chattering as he shook. He sunk into the water and let out a drawn out gasp of content. "Thank god, my nipples were so hard I thought they'd fall off..."

You laughed at him, shuffling over to sit next to him and shroud him in your warmth. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you to lean against his chest as you enjoyed the jets of the tub.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Jin... It's so beautiful," you thanked him, still blown away by the incredible trip he had booked for you both.

"Only the best for my baby," he kissed your forehead. "You deserve it though. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with me. And not just me, but the six adopted children you've taken in as your own too."

"Ha, yeah I suppose... I adore the life you've given me though. Wouldn't change it for the world." It's true; the craziness of your life was what you loved so much about it.

"Four years of crazy," Jin reminisced, "In this for the long run, huh?"

You looked up at him to see him smiling down at you, hair pushed back off his forehead, beautiful eyes running over your features.

"Absolutely," you agreed, reaching up to kiss those deliciously plump lips of his. He turned into the kiss, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. You moved against each other so naturally, lips colliding and moulding, tongues caressing and hands roaming.

You broke away from him to sit up and swing your leg over his lap, straddling him before you resumed your kiss. The heat of the hot tub only encouraged things to heat up a little more, slowly progressing until you pulled away for air.

"You know one thing I've never done?" you asked, smirking.

"What's that?" he urged, his mind hazy from making out.

"I've never had sex in a hot tub before," you teased.

"Me neither. First time for everything?" he suggested. You nodded excitedly, and without another word he was pulling the straps of your swimsuit from behind your neck to ping them free.

*****

"And on today's itinerary?" you leaned over the breakfast bar in the kitchen.

"We're meeting Santa," he grinned like a child.

"Oh, really? But... I don't think he'll like me," you played, pouting as Jin leaned over the other side of the bar, levelling with you.

"Why wouldn't he like my little princess?" he bopped your nose sweetly.

"Well, I think I'm on the naughty list after last night..." you smirked, pecking his lips a little. He chuckled, knowing exactly what you had done that was so naughty.

"Don't you worry, I'll slip him some cash," he joked.

"Excellent," you clapped.

"I booked our sleigh ride for tonight, with the reindeers and everything," he smiled. Wow...

"A reindeer sleigh ride? That's... whoa!" That was surely something people only did in movies, right?

"Yeah, and the conditions are perfect for the lights too so, fingers crossed." A sleigh ride under the northern lights... could it get any more magical than this?

"Come on, let's go see Santa," he stood up, walking around to your side and grasping your hand in his, pulling you to the front door to kit yourselves out in boots and thermal gear.

You were just about to leave when he suddenly yelled, "Oh! Wait one sec," and scarpered off up the stairs. He was gone for seconds only, running back down quickly. "Forgot my phone."

"Moron," you jeered affectionately, walking out the door.

When you arrived at Santa's workshop – a large cabin decorated with wreaths and ribbons with large candy canes sticking out of the snow – you noticed a small queue of families with small children on the little red carpet outside the door. The younger children looked so excited, bouncing around and playing around, running circles around their parents. You giggled to yourself.

"Cute," you muttered. Jin looked over at you and followed your gaze, smiling softly to himself too. "I think we're the only ones here without a child..." you laughed at the idea; two fully grown adults coming to see Santa Claus. But that was just how you and Jin were; children at heart.

"Is it weird?" he asked. "'Cause I could always steal one..."

"Shut up, Seokjin. You'll get us kicked out," you whisper shouted with a laugh and a smack to his puffy coat.

"Sorry, sorry... Maybe one day we'll come back with our own kid," he suggested cautiously. Your heart swelled at the notion.

"Maybe..." you murmured.

The queue slowly moved forward and you reached the front in no time at all. Staff dressed like elves escorted you through to a waiting room decked out like a traditional log cabin with festive red and green furnishings and a lit fireplace. You took a seat on one of the armchairs, Seokjin standing beside you as you waited patiently in the warmth.

"Santa's ready for you!" a young female elf popped through the second door to the room, her painted rosy cheeks bunching as she smiled.

You followed her in to find Santa sat on a large, red upholstered chair. He looked like the real deal; the red suit with white fur trimmings, large black boots, a thick white beard that actually grew from his own face, chubby red cheeks and little round glasses.

"Hi Santa!" you waved excitedly.

"Hello, y/n!" he cheered. He knew your names; a nice touch. "Come on in, tell me what you want for Christmas." He patted his lap and immediately you rushed to him to take a seat on the end of his knee. Seokjin smiled fondly at your excitement, like you really were a little child on Christmas morning. He stayed by the door, snapping a few photos on his phone.

"First of all, have you been good?" Santa asked you, raising his eyebrows at you. You turned to Jin who had burst into a fit of giggles, remembering your comment this morning.

"Mostly..." you sounded unsure, and Santa hummed in thought.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you're on the nice list. I'll have to check later... But if you are on the nice list, what would you like for Christmas this year?" he asked.

"Hmm..." you thought for a moment; what did you want? Nothing really... You had everything you ever wanted. Almost everything, anyway.

"Honestly Santa, I'm happy anyway. All I want for Christmas is him," you pointed to Jin stood by the door, who's heart was melting as you spoke with Santa. "I just want to spend it with him, be close to him and for him to be happy."

"Aw, that's beautiful, y/n. See? How could a nice girl like you be on the naughty list?" he replied with a signature 'ho ho ho' laugh. If only he knew...

"Seokjinnie's turn!" you sang, climbing off Santa's lap. You expected him to just come and sit on the step at Santa's feet, but he too sat on his knee. You laughed; he was such a goof, flicking his hair out of his eyes and dramatically wrapping an arm around Santa's shoulders.

"Well, hello Jin," even Santa was surprised. "What about you; have you been good this year?"

"Santa, I'm good every year, you know?" he said confidently. Santa chuckled.

"Is that so? Well, what can I get you for Christmas then?" Seokjin didn't hesitate, just leaned down to whisper into Santa's ear with his hand covering his lips from you. Santa nodded along to what he was saying, and his eyes flicked up to you, a smile spreading across his face underneath his beard.

"Well, Jin... I'm sure I can get you that, not to worry!" Santa patted his back and Jin smiled at him. "Say, would you two like a photo? I could ask one of my elves to take it for you!" You nodded excitedly, coming to sit on Santa's other knee opposite Jin. Santa called to one of the elves outside who wondered in, taking Jin's phone from him.

You both smiled for the camera, taking a sweet picture together before bidding your farewells to Santa. The elf led you out of the room and into Santa's workshop, where there were genuinely hundreds of people dressed as elves putting together little wooden cars and painting the faces on dolls. It was mesmerising to see the effort that was put into a place like this, the children on the same tour all going crazy with glee.

Jin held your hand as the tour continued, picking you out a toy at the end too just like the other kids were given. You had to laugh, he was just as excited and picked out a toy car for himself.

By the time you were done at Santa's workshop, it was starting to get dark. Jin took you to dinner again; a fancy restaurant that specialised in local cuisine. It was all very over the top, but so cute of him. He had put so much effort into your little getaway, thinking of every little detail.

You were dropped off by the aptly named 'snow taxis' to the drop off point for your sleigh ride, both you and Jin giddy with elation. You expected the sleighs to be little, pulled by one reindeer like you had seen in the brochures.

Oh, no. Jin doesn't do things by halves.

Instead, Jin had arranged for a large red sleigh with gold trimmings, pulled by a whole host of reindeer to pick you up for your evening under the stars together. All the reindeer had beautiful antlers, little jingle bells attached to them and red ribbon head-collars and reins to match. They were utterly beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale.

"Jin, what the hell?!" you cried as he removed his hands from your eyes, revealing your surprise to him. In the sleigh, there was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket – not that it needed one in this temperature – and a bundle of roses waiting for you.

"You just gonna stand here gawking or are we gonna ride this thing?" he asked, taking your hand and helping you up onto the sleigh with him close behind you. The man leading the sleigh – the coachman – greeted you both as you took a seat and pulled on the reigns to signal the reindeer to move.

You dashed through the snow, much like the Christmas songs all suggested, the bells jingling away. You curled into Jin who was photographing the sleigh, the landscapes, you... You took selfies together and laughed at the funny faces he pulled, drank champagne and simply enjoyed your time together.

The sleigh slowed to a halt as you came to a clearing in some fir trees, the coachman turning around to face you both.

"This is a beautiful place to watch the lights, sir," he suggested.

"It's perfect, thank you," he smiled, ever appreciative.

"You're welcome. I'm going to let the reindeer off the sleigh to feed them, you two enjoy the show." And with that, he stepped down from the front of the sleigh, unhooking the reindeer but keeping them attached to each other so as not to lose one to the horizon.

"So, could be any minute now," Jin said, looking up at the sky in the clearing. You sat huddled together, not for warmth – your thermals were doing the trick – but for comfort; you sought each other's hold naturally.

You didn't have to wait long for the show to begin, the sky starting to shimmer with a beautiful green wave of light, mixing in with the natural dark blues and specs of shining white stars of the sky. The light only grew brighter, purple and a dash of red blending incredibly.

"Wow..." you gasped, never having seen such a beautiful natural phenomenon before. "Jin, I-" you couldn't even speak, finding yourself standing up and leaning over the front of the sleigh, staring up at the sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said from behind you, watching you get lost in the colours swirling above your head.

"I've never seen anything like this," you marvelled, "thank you so much for bringing me here, Jin," you turned around to look at him, "I can't believe you-"

You stopped in your tracks, words getting stuck in your throat.

Seokjin was on the floor of the sleigh, on one knee, with a little red velvet box outstretched in his hand. A beautiful diamond ring sat proudly in centre, sparkling under the lights.

"Jin..." tears welled in your eyes, realisation setting in.

"Y/n, I uh... Okay here goes; for a long time now, I've had everything I ever wanted; a wonderful career, wonderful friends and I had you. You and I have had four years of absolute happiness, some tough times too, but we've always pulled through. You've been my absolute rock, the person I can depend on for anything," his voice wavered with nerves, but he never stopped pouring his heart out to you.

"I've known for a while now that I never wanted this to end. I want you, for the rest of my life, because every day I wake up and think 'wow, I am the luckiest guy in the world. She makes me so, so happy'. And if you'll let me, I want to make sure that every single day you wake up feeling the same thing.

"So... y/n, will you do me the honour? Will you marry me?" he asked, hopeful; as if he needed an answer.

You nodded frantically, a sob rising in your throat and tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Y-Yes, yes of course I will..." you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks with your gloves. His face broke into a wide grin and he leapt up, stepping towards you to throw his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground as you held each other.

He put you down, immediately crushing your lips together with need. You desperately clung to him, your lips moulding together with his with so much love, so much devotion.

"Gimme your hand," he insisted. You did, and he removed the thick glove holding it in his teeth as he slipped the ring onto your finger gently. It fit perfectly, the single stone glinting under the light of the aroura.

You pulled the glove out of his mouth and kissed him again, both of you overwhelmed with utter joy at the promise of a future with each other.

"This is what I asked Santa for," he confessed. "I asked him to make sure you said yes when I proposed to you tonight."

"You crafty little..." you lightly smacked his arm, laughing. "Is this what you went back upstairs for this morning?" You held your hand with the ring on up to him.

"Yeah, almost forgot it..." he chuckled, "and that's why I wouldn't let you help me pack either." It all made sense now.

"And why you wouldn't let the others come on the trip with us..." you didn't have to ask; you were piecing it together now.

"Exactly. They have no idea I was going to ask either. Gonna surprise them when we get back," he grinned cheekily.

"They're gonna flip out," you laughed.

The two of you sat back down on the red velvet seats, snuggling up together once again to watch the lights above you. You had never felt so content in your life, so fulfilled – so whole.

"I love you, Seokjinnie," you cooed, squeezing your arms around him.

"I love you too, baby," he sighed, feeling just as content, fulfilled and whole as you.

#christmas #au #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #fanfic #fan fiction #smut #fluff #angst #seokjin #kim seokjin #jin #seokjinnie #cute #kim namjoon #namjoon #min yoongi #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook #ratedbangtann #winter wonderland

[zukadiary]

On The Twentieth Century ~ Snow Troupe 2019

Oh boy. Oh dear. If you'd like some background, here is a fairly comprehensive Wikipedia summary, but since all signs point to this show disappearing forever (a tragedy), I will do my best to go through it roughly scene by scene in hopes of extending the memory. 

“Perfect” is a word I’m still reserving for A-cast West Side Story ‘18, but boy is this close. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for, what in my wildest dreams I wanted Daimongumi to be, and feared it might never be. It’s hands down the best time I’ve had with my beloved Yukigumi since Chigi retired, and god I hope they continue on something even VAGUELY resembling this trajectory (tragic nihonmono, not optimistic, but,,,). I hope I can convey even a fraction of the joy that is this show.

Firstly, although it is the site of the first time I ever saw Komu live and thus a house of very treasured memories, I do NOT objectively like Theatre Orb. The third floor is too high for musical theater, the back of the second floor should not be A-seki, and the sound is abysmal. Unless you’re close to the front on the first floor, the instrumentals overpower the vocals, and everywhere I sat, including a pretty good S, there was an unpleasant echo. Like, if you can tamp down the power of DAIMON’S voice, something is wrong with your acoustics. The only time I had an improved experience I was on the extreme side of the 4th row and basically hugging a speaker, but if that’s the range for decent audio it’s a problem. And for some of the impressive songs in this show (and also just for Japanese comprehension of the speedy dialogue), it was a shame.

Everything else was outstanding. I can’t describe how WONDERFUL it was to hear Yukigumi, the tragedy troupe no one asked for, get not just giggles but consistent roaring laughter again. The overall casting—both in taking a chance on giving this troupe this show, and assigning roles to some maybe unexpected people—was brilliant. I’ll get more into the individual performances as I go through the story, but in quick summary: 

Maaya was absolutely the star, in both the weight of her role and the extremely satisfying application of her many talents. Lily is, in my opinion, unquestionably the crown jewel of her Takarazuka career so far, and if something ever tops it we’ll be luckier than anyone has any right to be. I’d kill for more of this treatment going forward; she’s talented enough to carry a show, and I think the dynamic of the entire troupe improves when she’s in this strong of a position.  

Daimon, whom I love to death, was SO above and beyond what even I thought she’d be able to do with a comedy; I always suspected she could pull it off IF she had the perfect formula of support (which I wasn’t confident the current Yukigumi lineup could give her), but she was SO good and SO in charge and SUCH a tone-setter for the entire comedic situation, I was truly blown away.

Owen and Oliver are in my opinion the juiciest roles after Lily and Oscar, but maneuvering around rank to cast Aasa and Manaharu was brilliant. Aasa has been average for me after leaving a huge impression in Robespierre, but her performance as Owen was back to MVP status, and Oliver is an absolute jackpot role for Manaharu, who rarely gets to do much of anything. 

I wouldn’t have wanted to see Saki in any role but Bruce; he’s the big dumb just-a-pretty-face movie star, the butt of many jokes and the most slapstick of all the roles, and her exaggerated physicality was I think better suited to that style of comedy than the quick banter in the Oscar/Owen/Oliver group (also, for the sake of their dynamic, I wouldn’t have wanted Bruce to be someone physically smaller than Oscar).

That put Shou, who conceivably could have been cast higher, in the leftover train conductor role. It’s not as exciting a part, but it was perfect if only to clear the way for the other casting choices. She got to be the center of several musical numbers, and she got to tap dance!

After a little introductory tap number by the four main train boys (Tachibana, Suwa, Manomiya, and Seika), the show opens with famous Broadway producer Oscar Jaffe’s right hand men, Owen (Asami Jun) and Oliver (Mana Haruto), running from an angry mob of unpaid theater crew from Oscar's most recent abysmally failed production (again!). They all but crash into Daimon cameoing Al Capone (because Chicago in the 20s!) as he’s escorted away by a policeman. Owen is more laid back and pretty much always drunk; Oliver is high strung and also prone to drinking. As far as my off-the-cuff brain will take me, Aasa and Manaharu have not had much experience playing off each other, but they worked SO well together. They were so funny, so in sync, perfect foils for each other’s characters, even physically similar enough that they just really looked like a matching set of long-suffering assistants. Since Owen and Oliver don’t have any money, they give the angry mob the slip, and read a note from Oscar instructing them to meet him on the 20th Century Limited, a 16-hour luxury train ride from Chicago to New York, and secure Drawing Room A. Then we go into the prologue number (pics are from the little bit of digest video and like one online article they gave us).

Although in retrospect I think it kind of subconsciously stressed me out the first viewing, I LOVED the music and choreography in this. Almost all the numbers mimic the rhythm of a train chugging along, and much of the choreography—when it isn’t just tap literally designed to sound like a train—has a feeling of commuter busyness to it. It wasn’t just on theme, it also enhanced the chaotic screwball atmosphere. 

Owen and Oliver board the train to find Drawing Room A occupied. When their best middle-aged-white-lady-insisting-to-speak-to-a-manager voices claiming (falsely) that they booked the room weeks ago failed to work on the train staff, they deduce from some nearby luggage that Drawing Room A’s occupant is Congressman Lockwood (Touma Kazuki in a hilariously disgusting fat suit and combover with her shirt sticking out of her pants at all angles) reserved under a fake name. Suspicious, Owen and Oliver burst into the room under the pretense of delivering said luggage and catch the congressman fondling his much younger secretary (Sara Anna). They win the room by threatening to leak what they saw if he doesn’t leave—Riisha scrambling around in such a disheveled huff while Aasa loudly counts down from ten. Score! But just then the train starts moving and Oscar is still nowhere to be found.

Whoops. He loses his hat, Owen and Oliver pull him through the window, and despite his abject failures in both life and train boarding, he lands dramatically front and center, all pomp and ego, waxing lyrical about the glory awaiting them in New York. Poor Oliver, despite being generally more sober and organized, is also more abused.

Daimon, always so delicately pretty and deeply sad, nailed Oscar so hard I don’t have nearly enough words for it. Her eye makeup was stern and crazy (and pretty monochromatic, nice touch for the 20s vibe), her mustache was GROSS, her neurotic mannerisms were so on point and so funny. She AD LIBBED!! WELL!! I was CRYING of laughter on senshuuraku, and she wasn’t just reacting; she was DOING THE AD LIBBING. The way she fidgeted and flailed and whimpered and yelled and modulated her voice WAY high and back down again to drag us though Oscar’s manic journey was just soooooo perfect. Not that I had any doubt she’d kill the songs, but they were hard, so it was all the more impressive. As perfect as Aasa and Manaharu were together, the three of them played flawlessly off of each other too. 

Interrupting Owen and Oliver’s failing attempts to convince Oscar that they are in fact heading for insolvency rather than glory, the conductor informs the passengers that they are approaching Englewood and Oscar flips out. He reveals actress Lily Garland, his former protégé and lover, is boarding there and will be staying in Drawing Room B. He gleaned this information from a bellboy who told a maid and stalked Lily onto the train without her knowledge, but insists that in the 16 hours to NY he’ll be able to convince her to star in his next show, solving his financial problems. Owen and Oliver are Stressed.

This leads into my absolute favorite progression of scenes: a flashback introducing how Lily and Oscar came to meet. Oscar is auditioning Imelda Thornton (the goddess Satsuki Aina) for the role of Veronique, a Parisian street singer who refuses to sleep with Otto Von Bismarck so he attacks Paris and starts the Franco-Prussian war as revenge (men!). If only the photos from this scene showed the parts I want; Daimon was SO funny. Imagine like, the face you make when you try to give yourself 8 chins and take the ugliest low-angle selfie you can. Daimon was that + a thousand-yard stare of skepticism, fidgeting neurotically and tapping the arms of the director’s chair, with Oliver and Owen standing behind, simultaneously goofing off and keeping things running smoothly. Also in the picture at this point: Max Jacobs (Agata Sen), a successful Hollywood producer trying to sign Lily in the present, but in the flashback, Oscar’s (later fired) useless assistant who can’t even take Imelda’s coat correctly. Imelda, an all-ego-no-talent diva, is freaking out because her regular pianist was sick so she had to hire a substitute last minute and she’s late. Enter now Midred/soon to be Lily (Maaya) through the audience, in oversized glasses, tacky pink house dress, and matching hair cap, dropping her sheet music all over the place. Imelda is furious, Oscar is disgruntled, Max is Stressed. Mildred sits down at the piano, Imelda declares she’s going to sing “The Indian Maiden’s Lament,” and tries to begin but Mildred is still dramatically warming up her hands and shoulders. Finally she gives the ok and starts playing something completely different (Imelda, furious; Oscar, melting into a pile of gooey discontent). 

Take 2, Mildred begins playing the correct song beautifully, while Imelda sings horrendously and Oscar tries violently and wordlessly to convey to Owen and Oliver in moments of Imelda’s averted gaze that they need to stop this somehow. Imelda hits a sour note that’s just the last straw for Mildred, and she stops playing and corrects her (gorgeously, flawlessly, Maaya’s voice is a treasure). Imelda, flustered, thanks her and tries again, but isn’t any better. Mildred keeps stopping and correcting her, eventually just singing the end of the song herself, while Oscar, moving his chair closer with hilarious little Flintstone car footsteps, stares at her agape and then gives her a standing ovation. Imelda loses her cool and fires Mildred on the spot for ruining her audition; Mildred hulks out and demands her pay for the day plus train fare (Oscar, fully Team Mildred at this point, is mimicking all her movements behind her). Imelda pays and storms off, telling her assistant to call her an ambulance. Just as Mildred starts packing her things to go, Oscar declares he wants her for Veronique and asks her name.

I wish I could share with you all the sound that both of them made saying “Mildred Plotka,” pronounced “Mildred BLEGCH” with copious spit. I’m embarrassed to admit I just spent a good 30 minutes? trying to chase down a vivid childhood memory—I was 11, and watching Spaceballs on TV with my bff, and in the combing the desert scene they censored “we ain’t found shit” not with a bleep but with some absurd SCHMUSCHSG noise, and my bff and I laughed for approximately 8 days, because we were 11 and probably eating Gushers—and in my memory this and Mildred BLEGCH were the exact same sound, and I wanted you to experience it so much I watched every combing the desert clip on youtube fruitlessly, hoping one would be this exact censorship (sorry... I’m just... Daimon was funny??? and I’m very emotional about it????). Anyway, since no one can say Mildred BLEGCH, Oscar decides her new name will be Lily Garland. After some hemming and hawing about not being an actress, Lily decides to give it a shot. The house dress tears away and we have the snazzy number “Veronique.”

Maaya was absolutely brilliant throughout the entire show, but this number hit me extra hard. Not only was she exceptional vocally through a very challenging song (dancing all the while), but her aura of a freshly hatched starlet, packed with youth and hope and freshness and naiveté and raw unpolished talent, contrasted so vividly with the successful Hollywood actress still fueled by Mildred Plotka spitfire that we see in the rest of the show; I found it VERY striking. It was subtle but so effective and truly masterful acting. Veronique ends, Daimon re-enters from the audience and tosses a bouquet (the first time I saw it she missed the stage, and Maaya, fully in character and without missing a beat, just parkour’d off the stage and grabbed it and hopped back on), and we’re ushered back into the present.

The conductor enters Oscar’s room to inform everyone that a religious nut is vandalizing the train with REPENT FOR THE TIME IS AT HAND stickers, but not to worry because they’re doing everything they can to catch the culprit; and to drop off a play that he’s written about a day in the life of a conductor (to Oscar’s annoyance). Then the train arrives at Englewood station, and Lily boards with a flurry of paparazzi, her assistant Agnes (Chikaze Karen), and her attention-whoring movie actor boyfriend Bruce (Ayakaze Sakina). Maaya (in a GORGEOUS dress) is instantly the Hollywood diva instead of the wide-eyed starlet; Saki is the comic relief in what’s already a screwball comedy. Oscar is a terrible person, so if you can imagine how big and dumb and sappy and suffocating and clumsy Bruce has to be to make you root for Oscar, Saki was all that. 

The two lovebirds put on quite a show of excessive PDA for the photographers while Agnes rolls her eyes, until it’s time for Bruce to leave the train. 

Lily falls to the floor dramatically, wailing oh WHAT will I do without him, when Bruce bursts back into the room, declaring he can’t possibly let the love of his life go to NY all by herself (Lily, all sorrow a minute before, is not 2 seconds later annoyed to see him). So he’s now along for the ride to witness Oscar’s whole scheme.

Owen and Oliver, trying to take matters into their own hands, show up in Lily’s room to beg her sincerely to do a play with Oscar, hoping she’ll pity him and his dire financial situation enough to do him a favor. 

Lily sings a whole song about how that’s never ever ever going to happen, and Bruce freaks out to learn that Oscar is on the train. Lily insists they have no romantic history, and then immediately lights up when she hears Oscar’s voice in her head. They sing a lovey duet representing that they’re still clearly both on each other’s minds. Despite the comedic and not at all tender nature of this show, and the love-hate relationship between these two characters, Daimon and Maaya’s chemistry, in my opinion, has never been better. I wouldn’t have thought it would take playing two self-centered assholes who both despise and desperately want each other to send the sparks flying, but BOY did it do the trick. 

Meanwhile, the REPENT sticker situation is getting worse, and the audience at this point realizes that the culprit is the unassuming little old Letitia Primrose—played brilliantly by Kyou Misa. 

She sings about how she’s taken it as her mission to encourage young people to repent for their sins. 

Oscar hears from Owen and Oliver that Lily is with Bruce and is despondent; he declares that he still loves her will definitely steal her back from both him and Hollywood. Oliver is fed up with his nonsense and tells Oscar he’s off his rocker (bless Manaharu and her ability to simultaneously look like a squirrelly little dude in her suit and bowtie and also not only stand up to Daimon but rile her up and get even more out of her). They get into a big fight and as Oliver storms out of the room, Oscar notices a giant REPENT sticker on Oliver’s back and chases after him to remove it. When he removes and reads it, he’s struck with divine inspiration for a new play about Mary Magdalene, a part so good Lily can’t possibly resist it.

Oscar is so sure this will work he instructs Owen to go buy him a bible so he can start writing the script immediately. Owen reminds Oscar that the train is in fact moving and they can’t really do anything at all, when they see Ms. Primrose’s bible on a chair (and all fall dramatically to the ground). Oscar takes that as a second miracle, insisting this means there will be a third, and Owen and Oliver agree to play along with his demands.

Oscar, now filled with renewed confidence, and Bruce, just as big and dumb as ever, sing a duet about how Lily is theirs (not at each other, separately in their own rooms). Both of them are just awful men.

While the two of them are non-confrontationally fighting over the same woman, Owen is in the bar trying to write a press release about the triumphant return of golden duo Oscar Jaffee and Lily Garland. Ms. Primrose picks up a crumpled draft from the floor and muses that she’d love nothing more than to sponsor some big artistic project. That gets Owen’s attention, and she reveals to him that she runs a patent medicine company and doesn’t know what to do with all her money. Owen calls to Oliver that they’ve found their third miracle!

Back in her room, Lily emerges in lime green negligee, to Bruce’s delight. Things are just getting uh sexy I guess when Oscar interrupts them and actually confronts Lily for the first time.

Bruce is furious that Lily lied about her history with Oscar, who is sitting on the couch in back of the room drinking their champagne and eating all the olives out of their martini glass as they argue. Bruce eventually storms off, slapping his headshot onto the wall as he leaves the room (Oscar immediately stands and tears it up). Lily sits down on the couch, now arguing with Oscar and angrily joining him in eating olives. Their hands touch going for the glass at the same time; Lily sternly tells him to let her go but then turns around and caresses her hand happily. Oscar takes this moment to spring his play idea on her; Lily reveals that she heard the whole story of his bankruptcy from Owen and Oliver and tells him she’s on her way to NY to sign with a reliable producer (the formerly useless Max Jacobs who Oscar himself fired). Realizing he’s out of game, Oscar starts hurling insults and they sing another spark-flying duet—Lily insisting she has everything, and Oscar insisting movies are beneath her talents and she’ll rot in Hollywood and fall into obscurity. 

Lily eventually kicks Oscar out, EARNESTLY throwing and smashing a champagne bottle against the door behind him. Oscar, without even taking a breath between Lily’s room and his, screams at his two traitors for ruining his plan and strangles poor Oliver (on senshuuraku Daimon held on for a comically long time, and Manaharu, refusing to concede that ad lib, then played dead on the floor for a good minute). Oliver and Owen save their own asses by telling Oscar about the sponsor they managed to find on board, and THAT’S ACT ONE (right before curtain, we see a tiny little plane labeled “Max Jacobs” flying above the train).

During the big ensemble number (”Life is Like a Train”) that opens act 2 we discover that the train is now absolutely covered in REPENT stickers, then Owen and Oliver take Oscar to meet Ms. Primrose.

I can’t stress enough how delightful Kyou Misa was, the perfect little ostensibly earnest but just subtly batty old lady; the way she stiffly hobbled around was adorable too. Ms. Primrose is thrilled to work with the great Oscar Jaffee, and even more thrilled to share the story of Mary Magdalene with the world, and asks him how much money he needs. Oscar nervously asks for $20,000, at which Ms. Primrose balks that that CAN’T possibly be enough and writes a check for $200,000. Oscar, Owen, and Oliver giddily sing “Five Zeros” in a manner not unlike Scrooge McDuck swimming in his gold coins, and over the course of the song Ms. Primrose bumps it up to $20,000,000 (in the 1920s!). Now they’re sure they’ll be able to lure Lily back. 

Oscar is about to go grab Lily and introduce her to Ms. Primrose when the train doctor Dr. Johnson (Kujou Asu) busts into his room with yet another manuscript (A day in the life of a doctor!). I mention this mostly because a) I LOVE ASU DEEPLY, she is so underused, and b) the three musketeers leverage this manuscript situation later on in my other favorite scene. They get rid of Johnson and Oscar finds that Lily wants to see him also. She sits him down and asks Bruce to give them some time alone (on his way out, he goes to replace his torn head shot with a new one that comically unfolds into five headshots before Oscar violently chases him the rest of the way out the door). Oscar is fuming, and Lily tenderly asks him to sit, which he does with a grumpy face and a flamboyant kick as he reluctantly crosses his legs on the sofa. Lily explains that she’s embarrassed by her behavior so far, is so grateful to Oscar for her career, and wants to help him after all... so she reaches into her bra and pulls out a check for $35 so at least he’s not dead broke. Oscar, amused, stands up and, acting as if he’s a magician, folds up the $35 check and dramatically asks Lily to blow on his hand. Out comes the $20,000,000 check.

Oscar ushers Lily into his room to prove to her that Ms. Primrose is in fact a real person who wants to sponsor his new play, if she’ll star in it. Lily, despite still generally feeling like she’d rather die than work with Oscar again, is now enticed both by the role of Mary Magdalene, which is much juicier than what she’s been allowed to do on screen, and the prospect of raking in this much money without being beholden to the jerks who run Hollywood. Faithful Oliver has already prepared a contract, and we get “Sign It Lily,” probably both the most difficult/impressive song and biggest earworm of the show. Not the best version but here, have a listen.

Oscar, Owen, Oliver, and Ms. Primrose are all bombarding Lily trying to get her to put her name on the thing (I truly don’t know when Daimon breathes), while simultaneously trying to keep Bruce and his contrary agenda out of the room (Saki gets repeatedly slammed into doors and walls, closed into closets, suffocated with pillows, etc). Lily gets overwhelmed and runs back to her room, pursued by a cocky triumphant Bruce, who yells behind him that they’ll never get her back away from movies.

Oscar gets a lightbulb moment at the word movie, and the team files one by one back into Lily’s room, smashing Bruce in the head with the door each time. Oscar tells Lily that if she agrees to do the play, he’ll shop the movie rights to whatever studio she wants (to which Ms. Primrose responds WHY BOTHER, she’ll fund the movie too). That pushes her over to yes, and she takes the contract to read carefully. The conductor enters the room notifies everyone that they are approaching Cleveland, and that Ms. Primrose’s nephew and his wife sent a telegram ahead that they’d be boarding the train there to meet her. She turns cold and hurries off alone. 

Owen, out for a celebratory entire bottle of wine, coincidentally runs into Ms. Primrose’s nephew (Machi Yuuka), who is frantically searching for his aunt. He says she hasn’t been all there since she stepped down from her position as company president, and just escaped from her mental institution. Owen asks about her money, the nephew says there is none, and Owen realizes they’re fucked.

In the frantic search for the missing Ms. Primrose, Bruce overhears Owen breaking the news to Oscar and Oliver, and tells Lily that Oscar deceived her again. She’s furious, and Oscar probably only escapes with his life because just at that exact moment, the formerly useless and fired but currently hot and successful Max Jacobs bursts through the door (Oscar yells MAX JACOBS like he’s going to burst every single blood vessel in his head and neck).

Max hopped a private plane to Cleveland to meet the train, because he has a brand new play written just for Lily (called “Babette”), and he’s so excited he can’t wait for her to get all the way to New York. Babette is a glamorous high society type role about a woman in love with two men. Lily starts reading the script, but finds herself wondering out loud if it can be changed to be more like Oscar’s. Max is incredulous and starts trash talking Oscar, and Lily slaps him REAL HARD in the face. She then catches herself yet again and and asks to be left alone to read the Babette script more carefully.

We’re taken to Lily’s wistful daydream of a classy party taking place in the Babette universe as she tries to wrap her head around the show and imagine herself in the title role. But she finds it dull, and every few pages, she has an intrusive thought about the more inspiring Mary Magdalene—one minute she’s milling through the impeccably dressed party guests, and the next she’s face to face with Owen or Oliver or Ms. Primrose dressed like an Apostle, until finally Oscar dressed as Calaf Jesus crashes the whole thing from behind. 

(Yup that’s a screenshot of the bromide sample page).

But Lily brings herself to her senses yet again, drives away all thoughts of Oscar, and agrees to sign with Max.

Oscar has lost and he’s despondent. He walks into the train bar to find Oliver sulking behind Owen who is passed out drunk in a chair. He takes out a gun (Oliver tries frantically to wake Owen), and begins a melodramatic monologue about how it’s better just to end his life now because no one wants to see him become a beggar in times square. 

Daimon hilariously mimes Oscar begging, then people throwing garbage at him, then dodging the thrown bits (on senshuuraku Aasa and Manaharu joined in with pretending to throw things). Eventually he leaves the room in despair, and Oliver asks Owen if he thinks boss would really kill himself. Owen is in the middle of saying absolutely no way when they hear a gunshot and run into the next room.

Oscar, now in a comical panic rather than a depression, is clutching his side and gasping that he’s been shot, and the heretofore still missing Ms. Primrose is in the corner of the room holding the gun by her fingertips, crying that she was just trying to put it away when it went off. 

Oliver runs to get Dr. Johnson while Owen tends to Oscar who is (again, comically) writhing in a chair and complaining that being shot by a crazy granny is not how he wanted to go, and this is my second favorite progression of scenes.

Owen offers to call the pastor for Oscar (who, by the way, cannot identify WHERE he has been shot), and Oscar gets mad. Owen then offers him ice cream. Oliver sticks his head back in the door to ask of Oscar is dead yet. Owen says not yet and brings in Dr. Johnson (Asu, my love) who at first giggles and assumes that because it’s Mr. Jaffee he’s just acting. Owen and Oliver assure him this is real, and begin moaning and wailing as Dr. Johnson examines Oscar in earnest.

He stands up, and Owen and Oliver take this to mean it’s a hopeless case, and it’s time for them to say goodbye. On senshuuraku, Daimon verrrrrrrrry slowly slid all the way down the chair, so that Aasa had to hold her up by the arms to keep her from wiping out, AND had to kick her foot to a lower step of the stage so she could stand up again. The raku digest thankfully shows a bit of this, along with the Matrix move Daimon had to pull to jump to her feet when Dr. Johnson declares that Oscar hasn’t been shot at all.

(It does not, however, convey how drawn out and hilarious this was, nor does it show the chair then toppling onto poor Aasa, and it taking her at least 3 tries to get it off her again).

Oscar then gets another harebrained idea, and tells Dr. Johnson that he read his manuscript from before and that it’s SO GOOD he wants to give him an acting lesson right then and there. Dr. Johnson is stoked. Oscar tells him to just sit in the chair, stare at him solemnly, and shake his head back and forth if anyone looks at him (Asu, over the next few minutes, gives what my admittedly biased heart firmly believes is the award winning performance of the show). Oliver and Owen are to pretend Oscar is dying. The cherry on top of senshuuraku was in the moment before this all commenced, Daimon, immediately after the chair debacle, took an extra long pause before delivering (completely straight-faced) her usual line of “I don’t want to see any hammy acting,” after which the others took a comically long pause before replying, “Yep.”

Dr. Johnson takes his place in the formerly toppled chair, Oscar grabs a pillow and lays down on the floor, Oliver and Owen go fetch Lily and start wailing again. Agnes and Bruce also follow Lily into the room and start crying themselves at the sight of Oscar “dying” on the floor. Dr. Johnson looks around from person to person in a panic and starts hyperventilating. Owen and Oliver mime at him to look sadder, Asu licks her finger and dabs tears on her cheeks and then makes the dumbest crying face I’ve ever seen, shaking her head increasingly aggressively each time someone in the room looks at her. Daimon and Maaya are weepily singing “Lilyyyyyyyy, Oscaaaaarrrr” back and forth for deadass three entire minutes. I can’t believe how much vocal control Daimon has even lying on her back on the damn floor.

Lily eventually signs the contract as Oscar’s dying wish. When Max enters the room, Oscar immediately jumps up to rub it in his face, and Lily once again is furious at being deceived. Oscar claims that with no money to offer, the only way he could rescue her from a rotted career was through trickery. **I FORGOT BECAUSE I FINISHED THIS AT 6AM AFTER BEING UP ALL NIGHT that Lily gets the last word because she hasn’t actually signed her name at all but written PETER RABBIT. They throw things and hurl vicious insults at each other and then finally realize they’re just too hot for each other after all and throw open their arms and get married.

The finale opened with Agata in a top hat and tails dancing with a stick and a bunch of musumeyaku, then there was a huge golden group tap number and a lovely waltz for the duet dance. 

I’ve been pretty upset that I had to miss BeruBara 45 and that I booked the trip I’m currently on before finding out Komu and Wataru would be returning to Bow Hall this summer, but being able to see this, especially since we’ll never see it again, was so so worth it. It was certainly a much needed boost for me personally, and it seems like it was a boost for the troupe and for Daimon and Maaya as a combi as well. I’m always torn about Broadway shows like this, because they’re SO good, and I WANT them to take on these kinds of challenges, especially when the result is so spectacular, but it’s such a bummer when they disappear forever. Many points to Harada for fitting this weird musical to Yukigumi like a perfect cozy little glove. 

#takarazuka #reviews #on the 20th century #actual longest review ever #I didn't proofread it #I don't even want to read it #am i 東宝組 now 19

[the-shadow-guards]

34. Or 52. for Miss Ava (or for whoever you would like!!) for the writing prompts?

HOW ABOUT BOTH

34. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

She was hesitant to knock on the door, but Lady Temple had said he wanted to speak to her. She could just pretend that she’d forgotten, and Eleanor and she could leave for King’s City before the weather worsened.

But her conscience wouldn’t allow it. And leaving before addressing the unspoken would just make a larger mess of things. It would be best to simply get it over with and not drag it out awkwardly.

Ava knocked smartly and waited.

It was already scandalous for her to be in his private sitting room. A young woman in his mother’s employ, unchaperoned and not family. Had the situation been any alternative, she would not entertain his request.

“You can enter, I’m decent!” he yelled through the door.

And Ava opened the door, every fiber in her body refusing to step over the threshold into a Lord’s bedroom.

What she could see was an absolute disaster. Clothing, probably dirty, was strewn into piles. More was on an armchair, accompanied by what appeared to be his Guards cloak. Books were haphazardly stacked in the corners, on his desk, and there was even more books sticking out of the blankets at the food of his bed.

Also at the foot of his bed was a pile of pillows keeping his broken leg elevated.

Ava noticed that his sock had a hole in the heel.

But with the angle of his bed and the door, she couldn’t see his face. And he couldn’t simply get up and walk around.

“El?” Lord Jacob called out. “El, stop hovering there and tell your damned governess that I would like a word.”

She would have to enter his bedroom. Ava gathered herself, promised herself this would be the one and only time she’d be in a Lord’s bedroom, and stepped around the door and into the view of the bedroom’s owner.

Lord Jacob looked as though he was already tired of being bedridden after less than a day with a broken leg. He also looked thoroughly haggard but had put in an attempt to comb his hair. A small condolence was that he wasn’t drunk anymore. “Ah. You’re not El.”

“You asked for me?” Ava didn’t wish to waste time on stating the obvious.

“Ah.”

She pursed her lips. “I presume this is about yesterday’s....” She paused, searching for the right word. “Declaration?”

Lord Jacob shifted in bed, pulling up the blanket like a shield between the two of them, revealing the extensive bandages spiraling up his leg and the wooden robs holding it straight. “Uh...”

Ava tore her eyes away from the injury. She didn’t need to image how horrible it must have been for Eleanor to see it break. 

He was looking at her. It wasn’t that annoyed glare she usually received. Lord Jacob opened and shut his mouth,

She stayed silent. He’d wanted to speak with her, and while she knew what the topic most likely was, she was not going to initiate the conversation.

“I-” He faltered. “Those things you said yesterday... Did you mean them?”

There was no gentle way to do this. “Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

Color was creeping into his cheeks. Whether embarrassment or something else, she didn’t wish to know.

Ava looked away first. “I don’t believe I should recount the details. But you must understand how inappropriate it would be.” There, the worst was over with. She glanced back to see his reaction.

He was nodding at his elevated foot as if he was determined to memorize the knitted pattern. “Very well. I understand.” A mournful smile flirted across his face. “I would hate to cause the gossip Mother listens to.”

She stepped back towards the door. Towards the end of the awkward conversation. Her hand was on the door knob.

“Stay warm on the way to King’s City. Make sure Ellie keeps up on her training, I’ve posted letters to Guards there who can work with her. You know enough to supervise.” Lord Jacob gave her a little half-hearted wave.

Ava returned the wave and stepped out of his bedroom, firmly shutting the door. She leaned against it for a beat to compose herself.

This was not the first time she’d had this conversation with men, nor Lords, but this was the singular time that the interested party still retained his respect for her nor tried to wheedle her opinion to something different.

She straightened her jacket and left his sitting room.

Eleanor was at the end of it, silhouetted against the frosted window. Snow was steadily falling.

Ava cleared her throat. “We ought to leave soon.” She needed to leave soon. A week’s worth of travel would put Lord Jacob’s feelings out of mind. It would give him space and time to think. “Do you have something for the carriage?”

Eleanor sighed. “Oh, yes, I’ve got so many exciting things, like cross-stitch and books of manners and dancing diagrams.” She turned from the window, expression sardonic. “It’s going to be miserable, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

52.“Oh, gosh, you’ve insulted me! What ever shall I do? I’ll be mentally and emotionally scared for years!”

Ellie decided that Miss Ava’s lessons on manners were slightly more interesting when there was a second student. Especially when the other student was Vincent and the lesson was about proper conversation during tea.

Miss Ava had them sitting across from each other at a little tea table set up in the greenhouse. Had it been any season but winter, it would been lovely. But everything was coated in ice and snow and the greenhouse was barely warm enough to not need a cloak.

The Temple Manor in King’s City lacked the charm of Mrs. Temple’s manor in Caster. Everything was stiffer, the manor was tall and narrow, and the shrubs still alive in the greenhouse were meticulously groomed to be spheres. Nothing involving the natural part of nature was encourage. There was a study little weed growing between two bricks. Ellie was counting how many days it went before it was noticed. So far it was four days.

Miss Ava was perched on a chair, supervising them and the rapidly cooling tea.

Vincent looked utterly resigned to his afternoon being spent remembering his manners. He’s said exactly three words, her name, and a thank-you to Miss Ava after she’d poured the tea,

He’d also been chided for not pulling out Ellie’s chair for her.

Vincent’s response hadn’t encouraged Miss Ava to put faith in him.

Ellie wanted to take another cookie and cut it open just to scoop out the lemon curd in the center. Instead she straightened her teaspoon and napkin. Across from her, Vincent was scowling into his tea as if glaring at it could warm it up.

Miss Ava sighed. “Are you two this quiet when training with the Guards?”

Ellie shrugged.

Vincent’s glare slid from his teacup to the governess. 

“Well, you both ought to practice proper conversation. Even,” she continued to Vincent, “if it’s just for Eleanor’s benefit.”

Ellie sipped her lukewarm tea. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine.” Vincent nudged his teacup away from him. “I would like to state for the benefit of your governess that when one sends an invitation for Guard training, tea with forced conversation is not what anyone is looking forward to.”

Miss Ava looked like she’d eaten something sour. 

Her tea was disgusting. Ellie set it back down. “Yes, I’m aware. Sword practice with your master would be better. Even against you.”

“Such a charming compliment.”

Ellie knew her smile wasn’t exactly kind. “Would you rather be having tea with Duncan Caldwell?”

Vincent’s glare could have melted the ice caked on the glass panes. “I would rather drink poison.”

“Vincent,” snapped Miss Ava. “Poison is not an acceptable topic for polite conversation.”

He leaned back in his chair, irritated. “Fine. Eleanor, are you liking the weather?”

Ellie kept her expression cool. “It’s nearly as frigid as your personality. And how are you finding the weather?”

His glower deepened. “How is that considered acceptable when she’s insulting me?”

Ellie protested before Miss Ava could answer. “You insult my knowledge at every opportunity you get.” She leaned in. “If you listen closely you can hear nobody caring.”

“That’s not fair, I apologize for that!”

“After I gave you a black eye!”

“Eleanor!” Miss Ava interrupted them both. “You gave him a black eye?”

“I deserved it,” Vincent explained, not looking away from Ellie.

She nodded in agreement and decided that with the direction of the conversation, paying attention to her table manners was not going to be one of Miss Ava’s focuses. Ellie delicately slipped a lemon curd cookie onto her plate. “Vincent made a comment about farmgirls and their supposed talents.”

He flushed. “You’re making it sounds worse than it was.”

“Anthony would agree with me.”

“Anthony is not here,” Vincent added. 

Ellie discreetly cracked open her cookie. “He would agree with me.”

Vincent sucked in a breath. “You claim to know my closest friend better than me? Oh, stars, you’ve insulted me! What ever shall I do? I’ll be mentally and emotionally scared for years!” He slunk ever further into his chair.

Miss Ava simply stared at him, at a loss for words. It was clear she hadn’t figured out what sort of person Vincent was.

Ellie scooped out the lemon curd. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Vincent.” 

“Nor you.” He reached across the table and helped himself to the curd-less cookie. “And I am finding this tea has become an exercise in futility.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” Ellie sucked the lemon curd off her spoon and turned her attention to Miss Ava. “Might we go spar now? Master Jacob’s coming in a couple weeks once his leg is done healing and if he sees that I’ve lost progress, he won’t be pleased.”

Vincent broke the cardinal rule of table manners and put his elbow on the table. “Yes, might we go spar, Miss Tremain? It would be nice to learn something worth retaining this afternoon.”

Miss Ava looked between the pair of them. “Yes, I suppose so. I thought Jacob hadn’t been serious when he said you two didn’t get along.”

“Oh, no,” Vincent stretched out the words. “We’re the greatest of friends.”

“Precisely.” Ellie said sweetly. “The greatest of friends. And we’re going to go practice throwing knives at each other once Master Masonwell arrives.”

#theshadowguards #the shadow guards #ellie temple #Miss Ava Tremain #Vincent #master jacob

[carmenlire]

White Blank Page Ch. 3

Edit courtesy of the lovely @kindaresilient!!

read chapter one

read chapter two

read on ao3

Magnus smiles as the door above him chimes cheerfully. The display is mostly the same, though he’s intrigued as he sees a sign advertising a midnight story hour at the bookstore in a few days, in celebration of Halloween.

It seems like the year’s gone by much too fast, Magnus reflects. Before he knows it, the snow will be falling and he’ll be trying to fit in his Christmas shopping into his bursting schedule.

This time around, there are several people milling about Lightwood Books, though no one spares him a second glance. Magnus doesn’t immediately see Alec but now that he knows to look for it, he can detect Lightwood’s background in the casual elegance and quality of the decor.

Magnus had met Maryse and Robert a few years ago before their divorce at a charity gala at the Four Seasons in Midtown. They’d only spoke for a few minutes but it had been like pulling teeth, Magnus overwhelmingly aware of what the couple thought of him.

New money, he’d hard Robert sneer to Maryse as they’d turned and walked to catch up with other friends.

That had been enough for Magnus. He’d poured his blood, sweat, and countless tears into his company and he didn’t need bigoted assholes condescending to him.

When he’d heard a few weeks later that the Lightwoods gave money to anti-LGBT groups among other equally conservative causes that caused him to gnash his teeth, Magnus had scoffed as he’d edited the story, unsurprised. They seemed like people who’d look down on anyone who didn’t fit their arbitrary, far-too-narrow mold.

It doesn’t look like their eldest son took after them though. Thank God, Magnus thinks.

Alec had been nothing but warm and welcoming the last time Magnus was here and he hopes to see the man again. Though really, he doesn’t know Alec’s schedule in the least and he might just be wasting his time on a fool's errrand.

Wandering through the aisles, Magnus picks up a book on botany for Ragnor as he makes his way upstairs. Looking down at his watch, Magnus makes a note that he has around an hour to kill before he needs to go back to his apartment and change for dinner with Camille.

Looking down, he doesn’t see the person he runs into until it’s too late. He’d clipped them on the shoulder and as he lifts his head to apologize, Magnus can’t help the instant grin that comes over his face.

“Alexander,” he greets warmly. “Fancy running into you here.”

He has a brief moment to worry that perhaps Alec didn’t remember him. It had been a few weeks, after all, and Alec was sure to see countless customers in his shop.

Before he can worry too much, however, Alec is smiling down at him, continuing down a few steps until they’re the same height.

“Hey, Magnus. I do work here so not so unusual, I’m afraid.”

Alec’s voice is dry but Magnus is deeply interested in the flush that starts to crawl into his cheeks.

“And how are you this fine autumnal afternoon?”

Laughing a little, Alec readjusts the box in his arms, settling it on his hip. His biceps might bulge a little but Magnus does not stare.

“I was just restocking and straightening up the children’s area. We had a busy morning so the place was a bit of a disaster.”

“And now,” Magnus asks, shifting a little closer.

Alec raises a brow, considering. “Well now I suppose I could take a break. If that was what you were hinting at?”

Laughing, Magnus shakes his head a little, unrepentant. “You can’t blame me if I want to spend a few minutes with the proprietor of this lovely bookstore. Maybe I want to pick your brain for the next bestseller.”

“Well, then if it’s alright with you, let’s head upstairs to the cafe and we can talk recommendations.”

Alec turns to go back up and Magnus isn’t complaining. No, he’s absolutely thrilled to follow Alec. Not only will he get to spend some time flirting with his favorite bookworm but he’s treated to a delectable view of Alec’s ass.

It’s a win-win as far as he’s concerned.

Settling them down at a table in front of a window, Magnus takes a few seconds to look outside as Alec sets his box down on the table. The busy Manhattan street is positively teeming with people. It’s a little after three and there’s the usual mix of tourists, businessmen, and teens that always seem to be in a hurry. Magnus feels removed from everyone else and it's not an unwelcome feeling even if it does rarely happen.

“Are you in the mood for anything or do you want me to surprise you?”

Magnus looks up at that. Alec is standing behind his chair, not yet having taken a seat. He thinks for a minute before shaking his head.

“Surprise me, though I’d prefer anything you have be made with soy milk or some other alternative.”

Alec nods once before smiling and turning toward the barista working the coffee counter.

Magnus watches as Alec approaches the counter and orders. The barista grins at him and the two seem to engage in a round of playful bickering before the blonde turns to the espresso machine. He looks more suited to playing beer pong in a dilapidated frat house than making cappuccino foam art but Magnus just finds that it adds to the charm of the shop.

Taking out his phone, Magnus ignores the speculative look he sees the barista throw his way and instead focuses on the dozen emails that have accumulated since he arrived, taking a minute to look through them. When he sees Alec walking toward him, two mugs in hand, he resolutely shuts his phone off and shoves it in his coat pocket.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got you a triple white chocolate mocha. Don’t worry, it’s all dairy-free.”

Magnus smiles and just knows that it’s too open and happy for such a simple thing.

Accepting the drink, Magnus blows over the top before taking a sip, humming at the subtle sweetness that doesn’t take over the bitter coffee. “Thank you, Alexander. This is really quite good.”

Settling down across from him, Alec wraps his hand around his giant white mug. He looks relieved that Magnus likes the drink and distantly Magnus knows that he’d have lied and said that it was the best damned thing he’d ever had if Alec would continue looking at him like that.

“I know people usually have very definite opinions on coffee. Some want it to taste like they’re drinking straight from the espresso machine and others need at least a cup of milk and twice as much sugar to make it palatable. I’m glad I guessed right.”

Alec sounds pleased and his words are calm. There’s an undercurrent of that damned warmth that Magnus wants to reach out and touch.

It feels like time slows when he’s in this shop, when he’s with Alec. This is only the second time that he’s been here, but Magnus thinks that it’s his new favorite place. He can almost, almost feel his stress slipping through his fingers and as the tension eases from his shoulders, he takes another drink and studies Alec with a content expression.

It’s quiet for a few minutes and Magnus is surprised that it’s not uneasy or expectant. Instead, it feels natural and Magnus can’t remember the last time he was content to just sit still and enjoy someone’s company, to enjoy his own.

He’s always running around like a dervish. From the time he wakes until he collapses into bed, Magnus is working. He’s always being pulled in a dozen different directions but he wonders what it would be like if he just gave it all up, right this moment. Stopped everything and stayed here, watching as the fall sunshine paints Alec in gold and as the air smells like toasted marshmallow and coffee and ink.

Magnus almost hates to ruin the silence but he can’t help himself from asking, “So, Mr. Bookstore Owner. Tell me about the next big book.”

Alec chuckles as he takes a lingering sip of his own coffee. From what Magnus can see, it looks like Alec likes his light and sweet.

“It depends on what you’re into. I try to only give recommendations that I think my customers will really enjoy. So, what do you like to read?”

Humming as he thinks, Magnus narrows his eyes at Alec. Alec waits patiently with a raised brow and Magnus can’t resist the challenge.

“I like romance,” he says slowly. “My work deals with the news and when I stop and slow down enough to read for pleasure, I want to lose myself in something light that ends happy. I don’t like a lot of angst and I’d be perfectly fine if the story had no conflict whatsoever.”

A lot of people can’t believe that Magnus Bane likes romance. He loves it in all its forms and many subgenres and while he also likes other genres as well-- he can’t deny the appeal of YA or a good thriller-- Magnus has enjoyed romances since he was in high school and looking for something to do at home.

He’d ended up finding one of his mother’s romances and hadn’t looked back since.

Alec stares into nothing for a minute, thinking, before his gaze snaps back to Magnus. “Would you mind if it wasn’t straight?”

Intrigued, Magnus raises a brow. He definitely would not have thought Alec would ask something like that, not given who his parents were.

Not to mention, Magnus loves LGBT fiction. Unfortunately, he bites back a sigh as he figures that he’s probably read whatever romance Alec is about to suggest. In Magnus’s opinion, there weren't very many authors who wrote LGBT romance well and he’d read most of their books several times already if they did.

“Considering I’m bi, I’d hope to hell I don’t have a problem with that. Lead the way, darling.”

Magnus throws out his response and he can’t help the angle of his chin. It’s not defensive but combative. He just gave Alec an opening and in Magnus’s opinion, homophobic people can never stop their instinctive distaste for those who aren’t straight.

Plus, Magnus doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body and if he’s feeling Alec out-- letting him know that there’s one less potential barrier should he feel something-- then it’s two birds with one stone.

Magnus has always prided himself on being efficient.

Alec just laughs and shakes his head a little. Magnus prays to God that he’s not imagining the interest in Alec’s eyes and the way his gaze drops down to his mouth for a fleeting second.

“In that case,” Alec says, “I want to recommend Higher than the Big Trees. It’s a m/m romance that takes place in the city. There’s no angst whatsoever and it’s a classic romance between a professor and a celebrity.”

“That sounds perfect and I haven’t read it yet. Do you have it in stock?”

Magnus settles back in his seat, crossing his legs as he reaches for his coffee. He’s glad when Alec nods.

“Of course I do,” he says dryly. “Not only are they my favorite author but I can barely keep it on the shelf.”

“How haven’t I heard of this book if it’s so popular?”

Shrugging, Alec just says, “I’ve been suggesting it to everyone who likes romance. It’s mostly word of mouth sales, really. They’re a new author and that’s their first book. I have high hopes for their next one, though. I hear there’s a journalist involved.”

Magnus smiles at Alec’s enthusiasm and can’t deny that he’s looking forward to this book and potentially discovering another writer.

Not to mention, he thinks dryly, that if they were going to write about journalism than he had to read it-- if only to catalog the many mistakes they were undoubtedly going to make about his career.

The two of them talk for awhile longer and when the blonde barista comes around to collect their now empty mugs, Magnus grins a little as he sees the silent conversation he has with Alec.

They must be close, maybe best friends, Magnus wonders and laughs a little as he sees Alec send the barista a deadpan look that could rival Raphael’s when he feels particularly put upon.

The blonde leaves and Alec turns to look at Magnus only to see that he’s already being studied.

“Sorry about that,” Alec offers sheepishly. “Jace is my brother and still hasn’t learned how to behave in public.”

Magnus waves that away. “Don’t worry about it, darling. I’m well familiar with family that doesn’t know when to stop. Now, I believe that we were just talking about favorite children’s books and the perfection that is Percy Jackson--”

Whatever Magnus was going to say stops as he feels his phone start vibrating. Not many people have access to his personal cell number and he grimaces in apology as he catches Alec’s confused look.

When he takes the phone out, Alec’s face relaxes in understanding and he waves Magnus on.

Seeing that it’s Simon, Magnus rolls his eyes a little as he answers.

“My dear little assistant, the building must be falling down or someone had better have just lost a limb. Which is it?”

“Magnus, where are you? You have dinner at Chartreuse BonBon in thirty minutes and your driver just called the office to say you’re not answering. Where are you,” Simo repeats and Magnus’s eyes widen as he wrenches his sleeve up to look at his watch.

“Shit,” he hisses. “I’m out, Simon. What does the traffic look like?”

Simon doesn’t answer for a moment and Magnus hears muttering going on in the background. Finally, he replies, “For a Thursday evening, it looks like there’s just the standard after work traffic. Why?”

Furiously thinking, Magnus immediately decides that he’ll just have to go straight to the restaurant from the bookstore. He doesn’t have time to go home or even to the office and change into something a little more formal, a little more crisp.

Appearances might be everything to Camille but Magnus still looks fresh, no matter that he’s been on the go twelve hours. Luckily, he’d chosen one of his more austere suits this morning and the burgundy shade was a perfect power play.

“Okay, I’m going to head there straight from where I’m at. Tell Elias that I’ll just need picked up from the restaurant at the end of the evening and I’ll get an Uber there. Thankfully, I’m still in Manhattan so I should get there right on time. Thanks for the call, dear.”

Magnus hangs up and looks at Alec who’s staring at him with something that seems like wistfulness in his eyes. “I take it you’re running late for something?”

Moving his chair back, Magnus shoves his phone in his pocket and stands, Alec following.

“Unfortunately, I lost track of time and I have a dinner meeting that I can’t be late for. I’m sorry, Alexander but I’m afraid that I’ll need a rain check for our YA debate.”

“No problem,” Alec says easily as he looks over his shoulder. “I understand how important meetings can be. I didn’t know you were such a big shot, though,” he teases as they start heading down the stairs, Magnus calling his ride. Unfortunately, he’s so focused on the phone that he can’t just stare at Alec’s ass again.

Magnus laughs a little. “I do okay,” he mutters, trying desperately not to tell Alec just who he is. It’s nice to have someone who treats him like a regular person, like Magnus instead of turning into a fawning mess when they realize they’re talking to Magnus Bane, the CEO of Bane Enterprises and the most famous man in the news industry.

“Just okay,” Alec repeats skeptically. “Whatever you say.”

Magnus looks up at that and as they start walking to the front door, he can’t help but feel like Alec’s just humoring him.

Deciding not to think about that, though, and the potential consequences, Magnus turns to face Alec as he takes a step back. “I’m sorry to run out, darling, but I really do need to leave.”

“It’s fine, Magnus,” Alec says softly. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

Studying Alec for a minute, Magnus takes another step back, reaching a hand out behind him to the door knob.

“Something tells me it’ll be sooner than sometime before I come back.” He throws one last smile Alec’s way before he’s turning and opening the door, rushing out into the fall chill just as his car pulls up.

He’s halfway to the restaurant when he remembers that he never did get that book Alec recommended.

As he watches New York fly by thanks to a particularly scrappy driver, Magnus wonders what it is about Alec that seems to pull him in.

Stepping out of the Uber just a few minutes later, Magnus sees that he has five minutes before Camille is set to arrive.

As he smooths down his suit and shoots his cuffs, Magnus walks toward the doorman who opens the door smoothly and unobtrusively as he approaches.

He’s escorted to his table and immediately given a wine list, which he peruses absently as the waiter fills his water glass.

Murmuring his thanks, Magnus isn’t paying attention to what he’s reading as his thoughts seem left in the bookstore.

With a sigh, he shakes his head a little and reaches for the water to clear his throat and his head. He’ll need his wits about him if he’s about to go a few rounds with Camille and as he starts to review everything he knows about Bellecourt and its struggling, he smiles.

Anyone who knows him knows that it’s the look of a shark circling its prey and Magnus fully expects to come out the winner of their little tête-à-tête by the end of the night.

He stands as he sees Camille’s lithe figure striding toward him on her signature Louboutin pumps and as they lean in for a European greeting that has Magnus rolling his eyes, he can’t help but think that he’d prefer vastly different company for dinner.

Company that looks an awful lot like Alexander.

#white blank page #my writing #malec fic

[words-are-like-colors]

64 Sensory Prompts -- Answered

Inspired by 64 Sensory Prompts  (___) is inspired by ** personal  __ original works 

1) Watching a meteor shower: (Bakugo Katsuki) Eyes sparkling, he stared up at the sky in awe. It looked dangerous, heated, and violent, yet beautiful. The majority of the rocks explode in the air like fireworks, but with reds and oranges instead of blues and greens. Bigger rocks plugged down but either exploded or disappeared from sight as they hurtled towards the ground. He was staring in astonishment as his friend walked over and clapped his hand on his shoulder, saying that he had never seen this look of amplitude on his face before. It was all fascinating, these rocks from space, outer-fucking-space, were coming down to their planet out of all of the infinite other places they could go. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he will never forget it. 2) Digging your fingers into the fresh dirt: (Sawamura Eijun)  You are digging with a shovel, pulling the dirt from the ground in weak pulls. Your mother gives you a patient smile, telling you that it takes a bit of effort but its worth it in the end. Some time passes and you get impatient; the shovel is too hard to use and your arms are getting sore. So, as any little child would do, you get on your hands and knees and start to scoop the dirt from the hole like a dog. Hands pass over each other in vigorous motions as you try to open the hole up more. Your mother notices this after a moment and pulls you back with a sigh. There is not much to punish on, your hands are covered with dirt, which would happen anyways, and the hole was dug well so she waved it off. Within the next month, the most beautiful flowers bloom from the hole that was made.

3) Snow being shoved down the back of your coat: (Yuuri and Phichit) Screaming and flailing he goes as his best friend cackles in the background. The pair were having a peaceful walk in the park when the friend suddenly yanks down his hoodie just to shove snow down his back. His back is prickling with cold-wet sensations as the snow instantly started to melt and roll down his back, leaving a trail of wet skin and clothes. Out of slight anger, he whips around with snow he snatched up from the ground and chucked it at his friend, not even caring to make a snowball out of it. His friend continues to laugh and laugh, only shutting up when snow is shoved down his jacket as well.

5) Trying to walk on ice:** The schoolyard was covered in ice. I watched as people slipped and slid over the icy snow as they had the time of their lives, laughing and bring the cold air joy. My friend that I had been making snow forts with the days prior was absent, sick probably, so I had to find a new thing to do. I glance over to the side to see a few more friends sliding down a mini snow slide onto the ice-covered pavement. I don't remember why I had it but I was clutching a small orange cat stuffie to my chest as I started to walk over. The pavement between the makeshift slide and myself was covered in a thin layer of ice. One step, two, three step, four, five step, PHEMP; I fell and landed on my butt. This isn't as much as a surprise as it was a regular act, seeing that the winters here are cold. Later that day, after lunch and recess, I notice that my cat stuffie's paw had been ripped upon impact.

6) Walking through the woods: (Kiribaku) Walking through the forest gives a place to clear your head, so that is just what he is doing. Within him was so much built up anger that he needed somewhere remote just to scream and explode, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. Sometimes he does not even end up blowing up before he goes home, he just finds a cliff to sit to gaze out over the mountain on. Here in the forest, there is nothing except vibrant leaves and silent animals. The first time he told his friend about where he goes more weekends, he received a look of shock until he stiffly explained that sometimes he just needs space from the overwhelming world and that being out on the cliff helps give him perceptive of the world. 

Today, he had brought that very friend. No one, not even his family was invited to see his escape but with this friend, he felt the same around him as he felt when wandering the forest. This friend lets him clear his head and has his body relax until he feels like venerable jelly. He will never regret bringing him with. 8) The way cold glass fogs when you press your hand against it:** It reminds me of my childhood. Sitting on the bus on the way to school. Pulling gloves off to press a warm hand against the cold glass, ignoring the sharp pricks for the cool sensation. The bus is cold but I am warm, the fog around my hand speaks that as I withdraw. Seeing this reminds me of Harry Potter when Ron has his hand on the train window when the dementor floats in with its demonic aura. Sometimes looking out the chilly bus window lets my thoughts wander into this area of mystery. As a child, just this creation of fog seems like a mystery in itself, and it still seems this way when you grow up when you learn why this is happening but still the mystery remains in what else this reaction can procure. 11) Blood at the corner of your mouth:**  Most would see this prompt and think of fighting but honestly, to me its the most mundane thing in the world: a split lip caused by picking. Fingers work at the split, picking and pulling until the skin is removed, little by little until it bleeds and you are satisfied. This is no self-harm, that should be said upfront, just a thing that happens when your mind wanders and your hands finds something to do without your promoting. When you finally bleed, your tongue instantly jumps to it, tasting the foreign substance and labeling the copper taste as blood. Your mom may tell you to stop it since it could get worse and rip more, but your hands ignore this and you go back to this when in thought. Soon enough you find it painful and you stop, but you should have stopped when your mother warned. There's a constant strain on the corner of your lips as it attempts to heal. Talking and laughing and especially yawning is bothersome; every time you perform this action it pulls at the spot until it opens back up and your tongue instantly jumps back to it. One day, you forget you even had the cut in the first place and you move on, sometimes your hands going back to that place or wander on to pick at something different. 12) Cloying sweetness on the back of your tongue:** "Cake, everyone loves cake!" is from a line of a famous movie but you sometimes beg to differ. The cake from your grandma's favorite bakery is sicking sweet and you can't help but grimace at the first bite. It would be rude to say no to the cake, but it was absolutely atrocious and you cannot bear to eat anymore. You flash your mom a guilty look and she understands instantly, since she is probably thinking the same exact thing., so she takes your remaining cake. Your grandmother doesn't seem to notice or care so you get up from the table to fill your glass up to rid of the taste. It is only hours later that you finally forget the taste and move on with your day. 15) The taste of salt on the tip of your tongue:** He seemed to be suffocating. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. The original reason for crying was too far gone as his mind kept supplying him with more and more evidence on why he was unworthy. He doesn’t remember licking the tears off of his lips but suddenly he tasted salt and somehow that made him cry harder. Everything seemed to be crashing down upon his shoulders as he internally screamed for release. Even crying seemed like a reason to cry more. Crying is something toddlers do right? Shouldn’t he be looked at like a toddler then? A crying, annoying, insolent little toddler who can’t do nothing for himself, it seems. He goes asleep that night with salt on his lips and thoughts of pain 19) Satin in candlelight: (Akafuri) He woke up in the dead of night. Shadows were dancing across his walls, the trees outside his window causing the shadows to look like long grasping fingers, inching closer and closer to grab the man in the bed. But, he did not react to the shadows. He watched them for a minute, wondering if this could be some sign or just boring reality. Of course, it ended up being boring reality so he got up from his bed. Despite its thin apprentice, the black satin robe gave him some warmth as he dawned it. ‘People are much more interesting than shadows’ he thought as he lit the candle that sat upon his nightstand. His secret lover was sleeping a few floors below and seeing that he was a person and his lover, he decided to go pay him a visit. The floors and stairs creaked as he stepped upon them but he paid no mind to it if anyone was awake other than him at this hour would be a miracle. As he approaches his lover’s room, he opened the door without hesitation. There he was, sleeping on his bed, curled up in the sheets shaking like a small puppy in the night air. It hurt him to see the man he cared for cold and weak, but he was unable to supply him with any material warmth since his father would blame him for stealing and send him away. So he walks in silently, places the candle on the night table, and unties his robe. His lover slowly blinked up at him as he woke up, his expression conveying curiously yet gratefulness as the robe was draped over him. 20) Reflections in glass:__ It was like an overlay. No matter how many hours a day he spent clicking and scrolling on his computer trying to edit and recreate photos could match what a real overlay looked like. He gazed at the window, watching his coworkers run around the office through the reflection in the glass. He tried to ignore the reflection of his own bored and tired face but it was vividly there. Behind him and his coworkers and outside the window was a view of the busy streets of the inner city. Outsiders may see this as a new, wondrous place but to him, it was the same day in and day out; cars zoom past just to go nowhere. people stroll past just to see no one, life creeps past just to end in nothing. Bored, trapped, he felt as he kept gazing, unfocusing and refocusing on the reflections until he got bored of that as well. 'maybe a change in scenery will help...' he thought lonesomely. 22) Neon lights at 1.30am:__ Laughter echoed throughout the deserted parking lot. According to the time on my phone, it was evident that we had been roaming the streets for a few hours now and currently it was 1:30 in the morning. Typically we would be sleeping or using our phones in bed at this sorta of an hour but tonight was a special night: we were free; we were free from school, parents, and life itself. This night we had decided to live how we wanted to for one whole day before going back to normal. A few of the group had left to either do more enjoyable things or something wrong, probably illegal by the glint in their eyes. I stepped out of the main group for a moment to take a breather and embrace the night air. The last of my soda tingled in my throat as I drank it before disposing of the can. Of course, a few of us had decided to get hand drinks but me? I rather make my own fun than being boosted but something other than. As I dropped the can into the trash bucket, I noticed a bar across the street that was emitting music loud enough to be heard. For a moment I watched as the people inside danced with wide smiles across their faces. While I was so drawn to this scene, I did not notice my best friend-crush approach me until he tapped my shoulder. I yelped of course before turning to him. What I saw was beautiful. His face was lit up blue and red from the nearest neon sign and he was bearing a soft smile and even kinder eyes. At this moment, a wild urge overtook me so I gave in and reached my hand out to him saying: "If you ever wanna join me, baby, I'll be dancing in the dark." [inspired by Dancing in the Dark by Imagine Dragons] 26) The smell of Cologne/Perfume on warm skin: (This was an original work but now I dedicate it to a special someone :P just yeet the cologne part dwai) The first thing that comes to mind is that of my face pressed against my love’s neck. I press kiss after kiss, roaming the warm skin with my lips and fingers as I plot the points of love across his expansive map. The cologne just makes the experience heightened. The smell intoxicates me; the scent is familiar and that I can only label by my lover’s name. My mind spins as I want more and more of the person before me, a person filled with comfort and warmth. Eyes hooded, mind fogged, I searched for more skin to kiss. 27) The musty smell of an abandoned home: (Hinata and Yachi)  She glanced at her partner to see that he was shaking in fright. Their friends had pranked them to go into the abandoned, mysterious house that sat in the middle of the woods. She had managed to get the door open when he had screamed and started to shake. Typically her friends called her the scaredy cat but when he was so frightened by even a fly, she had to step forward to protect him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him into the house. The flashlight revealed that it was a standard home; living room in the front, kitchen to the side, and bedrooms upstairs. It should be noted that they were the first two ever to go inside, so everything still sat where they were placed years ago. Other than the darkness and bleakness of the house, the thing that most hit her was the smell: it seemed to clog her nose with all of the dust and particles that had not normally been flushed out of the house. She sneezed loudly just to receive another scream from the boy. 31) the cool, sharp smell of the first frost: (Todoroki family) This was expected. Her little brother was finally gaining his powers. She laid awake most nights, wondering how their father would treat him once his powers take. The hair itself showed a perfect split of powers but only time could tell what would actually happen. Her little brother ran into her room one night, tripping over his small socked feet as he tried to be careful of the dark surrounds even in his panic. He nearly crashed into her bed if it was not for her turning on her lamp. Mismatched eyes were filled with tears and for a second she was confused on why until her eyes drifted down to see his fist covered in a thin layer of frost. Her fears stood corrected, he had obtained both of the quirks; the fire was not visibly present but it wouldn't be surprising if it suddenly out lashed. But, enough with their fathers, she had a small crying little boy clearly afraid of what was happening to him. She grabbed her blanket from the bed and knelt down before him before wrapping his hand in the hem of the blanket before he got frostbite. That night, they fell asleep night to each other but her dreams were plagued by visions of flames and hatred. 32) The smell of blood: (Akafuri)  His lover sat before him, his hands shaking as he held up a bundle of flowers. It was perplexing to see pure white roses since he had only read of them in storybooks. Where did he find these? He raised his hand to touch one of the pure roses when movement caught the edge of his eye. His lover raised his hand before curling it up in a fist. Raising an eyebrow, he went to fistbump instead as he was taught but before their fists could connect, blood started to drip from the fist. Instincts told him to grab the hand, open it up and tend the wounds but no, the piercing laughter that broke out from his lover's lips made his body stop and mind freeze. Blood dripped down upon the bundles of roses, staining them red as he laughed and laughed and cried out that while love is pure, it is also painful. The crackling went on and on and on.. and on.. and on... and... His eyes snapped open. Breathing harshly he sat up in his bed, pulling and grasping the blankets before him. The cursed laughter filled his ears and the smell of blood tickled his nose. 33) The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade: (Miyusawa) The knife hit the cutting board with dull thumps and I sliced through the celery sticks. For the most part, the house was quiet other than the sounds of the birds chirping out back and Slider, the dog, snoring peacefully in his bed. It was just a lazy Sunday morning. The pan sizzled and popped as I dropped the sticks in among the other vegetables and meat, the smells of my favorite breakfast making me smile softly. After stirring the contents a bit, I reached up and brushed my fingers across the bruises on my neck, not minding the soreness that much opposes to their appearance. Not much could be done about that so I go back to cooking; chopping up onions is the next step. As I started to slice through the onion, soft fingertips were felt on my shoulder blade. I did not jump like expected, just sighed lightly as my lover pressed kisses to my shoulders before wrapping his arms around me. I would never jump at his touch anymore, I would just lean in and feel loved. 34) The feel of fingers brushing together by accident:__ Brushing against him was the easiest thing. Seeing that I often hug him and sit against him it would be reasonable to think that I would not notice a simple brush of knuckles but no, I notice every time. Every time we go for the plates at the same time, every time he passed me a glass, every time he-- heh, not all of the touches where accidents to be honest, just purposeful reaches to touch. I couldn't help but smile at his sleepy grin as we twine our fingers together before pulling apart just to let him boop my nose and pull at my fingers. Those touches are wonderful but also are the small ones. The accidental bumps where fingers meet and warm spreads throughout from the single point of contact. I want to grab his hand fully and press a lingering kiss to his lips, to get closer and closer making the simple brush seem meaningless. But no, I do not get the kiss but that is okay; feeling the small touches and seeing his happy smile is enough to keep my heart singing and mind buzzing.

39) Stepping on something squishy: (Sawamura Eijun) Someday, God will pay, he thought as he glared down at his foot. Stepping in dog turd was not a way he wanted to start his first day of work or any day in fact. It was disgusting— if it were not for it being the poop but purely the sensation he still will be grossed out. Even now, he can already hear his coworkers’ laugher as he walks in with smelly, brown shoes. For a moment he cursed the pet owner for leaving the poo before he realizes it was his own ignorance for stepping into it on accident. Sighing again, he started to walk, hoping numbly that he would find a shoe store or a bathroom on the way to his new office. 46) The waver in a person’s voice when they’re stressed:** "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." He repeated, the words coming out waver and waver as he continued. Eyes stared at him. He couldn't tell if it was one person watching or thousand just that it was overwhelming and stressful and all he wanted was /out/. He did not know the answer, why are they pressuring them? Why are they being this way? Why do they not care that every part of them is screaming for escape but just the idea of being hurt is enough to make him stay? Why, why, why? He is scared, so scared inside. Apparently, he is not allowed to be wrong; apparently, he is not allowed to be hurt and in pain; apparently, he is not allowed to be scared, like any normal child. But there they are before him, looking at him with a neutral face, unforgiving and hard look in their eye. His repeating falls silent as tears finally spill and he is choking on his own sadness, sad that only not knowing one thing can turn out so painful. 49) Trying to pull on clothes with damp skin Trying to pull off damp clothing:**  Taking off wet clothing for most people meant they had just trudged through a snowstorm and were having the worst day and were struggling to find dry clothing but for me? It meant happiness-- but then again, once most people reach a certain age that does not take care of children take snow for granted. Unlike those people, I walk into my house with a huge grin on my face, not giving a care in the world that the floor was getting covered in snow. The snow boots I wore gave me blisters with turned into scars but I did not care about that either. But what I did care about was getting warm. Running upstairs I grabbing a fresh pair of clothing before heading into the bathroom. Letting out a sigh, I try my best to pull off my soaked shirt just to get it stuck on my head. Laugh, have fun with that imagery, but yes, almost every single time.  Luckily enough I get it off without help and that in itself is a workout. So within all of this, the important lesson that should be noted is that whenever you go out into the snow, make sure you are prepared for the endgame struggle. 53) The relief of fatalistic recklessness:__ "Fate rules all." This was the topic of the paper he was set to write. He did not understand why his professor assigned them just a simple sentence that could turn into the most complicated thing in the world. Fate was always a heated topic among every living person on the planet; no one goes each day wondering if things happen by free will or predetermined events. Religion and culture are heavy on these topics but he much rather put those to the side for the last resort option. He does not understand the looks of peace and relief that some of his friends wear as they do some of the most reckless things with their lives and just say "no matter what I do there is already a set plan for me". He wants to argue with them up and down and give reasons why that was not true but like anyone else, everyone has their own beliefs. If they want to believe that their lives are already set courses, then be it, there is no trouble in trying to get the best for yourself... Hours later, he sits back in his seat and sighs. His fingers tired from rapidly typing keys as his runs them over his face to try to rid of the sore eyes. Yawning, he grabs his glass before glancing at his paper one last time before turning in for bed, and at this, he realized that all he wrote was about the argument of the topic and what he thought about it. Maybe he will get a great grade when turning it in or not, that is fate to decide. 56) Someone accepting the bad parts of you without judging:** Someone very important to me once told me, “If you act like yourself, everyone will be much happier, including yourself.” The statement in itself is somewhat blunt but the impact it had on me was huge. It meant that I could be unapologetically me, all of the good and all of the bad and that no one will think horribly of me. Of course, there’s a lot of people that will but around my closest friends, that meant they accepted me for who I am. Telling someone your pains and anxieties and all the while your wondering when they will leave and abandon you for you being you is painful, but just as you are trying to swallow back your tears, there’s that special someone who takes you by the hand and tells you that everything is gonna be alright and that just because sometimes about you are dark doesn’t mean that you are not the light. 57) Brown iodine stains on skin: (my mother) It is painful to watch. Yes, what had happened to her was painful but the situation she had to come back to was more painful to watch. Although we still sometimes laugh at the horrific sandwich incident, the rest of the situation was not funny. A couple of weeks before she had gotten surgery on her wrist and hand, rendering her without her right hand (although she was ambidextrous), and today she was finally pulling the bandages off. Surgery and medical operations always make me feel queasy inside but before she wrapped her hand up in new bandages, I noticed orange-brown iodine stains covering her hand. She noticed the look on my face and said not to worry, that it will fade away soon enough. I knew there was nothing to worry; in the past, she had gone through knee surgery, GBS (which is a thousand stories in itself, lucky to have her here still) and broken foot so something like this is nothing to be extremely worried about. If she could get through what happened before, she can get through this, and she did! I am lucky and proud of her healing and attentiveness to get herself to be better, physically at least... the painful part about watching the post-surgery at home was the utter lack of caring by my father. It was basically nothing, no offers, no taking charge-- he basically put more on her than usual. It was painful to watch her suffer mentally to all of this, so I had to take a step forward myself and help her. 58) Rust red dirt: (Shiro and OC Violet)  Sometimes when he wakes up, he forgets where he is. Most days he is expecting to wake up at home in his bed next to his beautiful wife and to go downstairs and give his children forehead kisses good morning. He only realizes that he is not at home is when the flashes of lights from nearby control panels catch his eyes and that the bedding below him was stiffer than any mattress he would purchase. Groaning he sat up, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Every day here makes him miss home more. He is starting to miss the smallest of things; he misses the sound of tussling sheets, he misses the taste of sweet soda, he misses the feel of fingers on his cheek, he misses the smell of freshly cooked steak, he missed the sight of the annoying, awful ad on Tv that he actually likes since it makes his wife laugh every time. He misses his home.    Standing, he walks over to the nearest porthole and stares out. The only thing he was met with was miles and miles of red rust dirt and rocks as big as houses, and behind it was a beautiful view of space that he was slowly starting to hate. If he knew he would be his homesick up on Mars, he would have never signed that contract. 59) the creak of leather: (please forgive me, be glad I’m sharing this at least):  Leather gloves are intoxicating. Leather fingerless gloves are the prime. He runs his hand down your arm. Your breath jumps, eyes fixated on his hand as your nerves start to buzz from the simulation. When he does this, you get two sensations: the drag of fingertips and the soft pull of leather, both creating this incredible feeling. You pull his hand to your lips as you press a kiss to his palm and breathe in the succulent smell of leather; an earthy, sweet and raw smell you breathe and you don’t want him to stop touching. You gasp and shift as he continues to touch, rolling his hands over soft plains of skin. You pay no mind to the rest of him, just his hands.  62) Fingertips smudged in blue ink:** Notes, notes, notes. A constant stream of words and drawings on paper makes your eyes sore as you continue to write. The pen you are using flows across the page; each letter and word from this pen becomes more and more sloppy as time rolls on. As you yawn and go to turn the next book page, your hand slips and you accidentally press your fingers into the wet ink. You don't notice this at first and continue to go turn the page. Minutes or hours later you notice that there's blue ink smudged on your fingertips and palm, and all you can do it try to scrub it out or shrugged, because who has not had a day when they accidentally have ink on their hands. It is evidence of hard work after all!

#sensory prompts #Mini Random Writings #prompts #fanfic: mine