Lena’s desk is not at all as stable as we thought it was. Which means we probably have to rethink all those fics where Kara and Lena just go at it on that desk because even without Kara’s super strength, that thing wouldn’t last five minutes with them.
I mean, I’m still going to write those fics though because that desk is too nice not to but realistically, they definitely do it on the couch.
Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.
Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts. Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done. Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work. Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted. Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy. Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive. Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes. Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight. Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.
I swear to god, if Lena somehow comes out of everything as a villain, it’ll be one of the most underwhelming bullshit that’ll ever come out of anything. Like, it isn’t going to be a betrayal that’s going to shock you, just leave you entirely disappointed because yet another character with so much potential is reduced to the stereotype of their name. I need a legitimately surprising plot twist if there ever will be one. No cheap deaths, no “a villain after all” bullshit. Just a genuinely surprising HOLY SHIT THAT HAPPENED plot twist that nobody really thought could ever happen.
Just a little something I’d wanna see in later seasons…
Surprise the Audience
The similarities between Viktor and Makkachin were sometimes impossible to ignore: both excitable, loyal, wide-eyed in the face of anything that fascinated them, and very clingy. But for how often Viktor’s attention jumped from one topic of interest to another, there was no doubt he was incredibly thoughtful, with much consideration going into every one of his choices; in this respect there was a depth to him that made him more comparable to a delicate handicraft forged by tireless masters long ago. Even small details others might consider insignificant would draw a pensive frown from Viktor, his pale brow would furrow, and he would soon be lost to his contemplation.
And there was one important date he always remembered to celebrate.
The weeks leading up to November had, at first glance felt rather the same. Yuuri maintained an intense practice regimen. Things felt cyclical now; Viktor had stayed with Yuuri at Hasetsu in Japan, and now he was with Viktor in St. Petersburg. Mornings were spent jogging down the crisscrossing streets and over bridges, often traveling further than the cars stuck in traffic that Yuuri was assured was actually worse in Moscow. It was nice scenery to practice in, if rather cold at this time of year. What intrigued him was how empty his ring finger felt; Viktor had insisted on taking it back for adjustments, saying something about sizing and words. Yuuri had voiced some protests, but his coach- and now competitor- was insistent. And he had not seen Viktor quite so happy and excitable.
Or on edge.
It was not until the 29th of November that Yuuri found out why.
It was the morning of his birthday. Yuuri had just barely settled down at the table intent on some breakfast to pump some energy into him, when Viktor entered, seeming to glide weightless across the floor. In his hands was held a box carefully wrapped in gold wrapping paper bearing a pattern of fluffy brown dogs. Custom order, no doubt.
“Yuuri, time to open your birthday present,” Viktor announced, placing the parcel square in front of Yuuri. His voice carried that strange, unique blend of levity and authoritativeness Yuuri had never heard from anyone else. It was a tone unique to Viktor Nikiforov, who could drag you lower than you’ve ever felt and raise you up on a pedestal above the god in the same breath. It was, admittedly, sometimes exhausting to keep up with, but that was why couples talked things out.
“You’re being awfully still, little piglet,” Viktor chimed in, leaning closer, looking quite expectant. “It won’t open itself.”
“Ah.” Yuuri roused himself from his reverie, carefully taking the package in hand. He slipped a finger beneath the wrapping, ripping into the gold patterned paper. Underneath was a nondescript white box. Yuuri glanced at Viktor who simply nodded silently. Yuuri peeled off the single bit of tape keeping the lid closed. Opening the box, he fished slowly around inside the nest of tissue paper, carefully pulling out something small and heavy.
Yuuri gaped. “I- I know about these,” he stuttered, slowly examining the gift. In his hands rested an ornate, elaborately decorated egg of enamel, and pearls. The coloring was a whole array of blues and blacks and whites, swirling and arcing against one another, the colors shifting gradually or else ending in sharp contrasts. Elaborate scrollwork and patterns of pearls and shimmering crystals completed the breathtaking imagery. The more Yuuri stared and inspected it, the more he came to realize the inspiration behind it. But…it couldn’t be…
“It…it’s like my outfits,” he whispered, giving the egg a final turnover.”
Viktor watched his every move with the same intensity he wore when observing his practice. “Very good! Something so pretty can only have a beautiful source of inspiration.” He knelt down, one arm resting across Yuuri’s shoulders. “You said you know about these?”
Yuuri nodded. “Faberge eggs. They were made for royalty, but now others have taken up the craft and a bunch of people can get them.”
“You’re right, Yuuri. But what else makes them special?”
“Um…” Yuuri dragged his gaze from Viktor’s penetrating one, wracking his brain. It was hard to think with the other so near and wearing such a look. “Each is…different…and…has some sort of other use? Or a surprise?” The way Viktor’s face lit up told Yuuri he had been correct. Taking the hint he returned to inspecting the gift, feeling a bit dazed. So many the real gift was inside. Viktor could not possibly have gotten him this.
His breath caught when at last he found a hinge and, just opposite it, a latch that let the egg open up to reveal a model of Hasetsu Castle sitting inside, proud, mighty, and majestic.
“A few people owed Yakov some favors,” Viktor said by way of explanation for how this piece came into existence.
“Yakov was involved in this!?” Yuuri gaped at Viktor before gazing at the treasure in his hands.
“Yep! He would have been more involved, but when Georgi heard he got pretty emotional and needed some comfort.”
Yuuri did not feel quite in charge of his own body. As he inspected the model of Hasetsu castle, his eyes landed on yet another set of hinges. “It opens more,” he muttered, licking his suddenly dried lips. He glanced at Viktor, trying for a smile; it was very shaky but sincere. “Is there katsudon in there?” he joked. Viktor laughed but did not respond. Carefully, always afraid of breaking this work of art, Yuuri opened up the final piece.
One hand tightened its hold on the egg as his other hand flew to his mouth, failing to stifle a gasp. His ring sat in a cushioned velvet box, gleaming most vibrant gold even in the faint light of the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Viktor still knelt beside him, smile warmer, bearing something more tender.
“You…but,” Yuuri began, carefully placing his gift on the table when his hands continued to shake. Viktor delicately retrieved the ring, holding it up for Yuuri to see. “But…you already-”
“And that’s what makes this even more surprising,” Viktor cut in. “It’s important to surprise the audience. And I doubt you were expecting something like this.”
He was quite right, to be sure. A second proposal, riddled with meaning and affection and a degree of newfound tranquility and assurance, was the last thing Yuuri expected from Viktor, in part because he already had made such an announcement earlier. Now, however, they had said much of what needed to be said, and had devised an arrangement that presented them with no reason to separate. To now have a memory of Viktor asking such an important question, when much of the storm had passed and they could feel secure in one another’s continued presence, was something Yuuri was grateful for.
Feeling an aching warmth blossom in his chest, Yuuri nodded once. As Viktor smiled in return and moved to replace the ring back on Yuuri’s hand, Yuuri caught sight of a new engraving on the inside of the band.
We call everything on the ice love.
Much like Faberge eggs, Viktor is one-of-a-kind, beautiful inside and out, and all about surprising the audience. Such a gift seemed on parr for what he’d feel as the best present for his katsudon.
I didn’t got in to the university I aplied to. I needed 102 points and I got 95 on my exam.
This tuesday we are going to be able to sign up for a second round, and I think I’m going to try it… Looking at the results of other peole I was really high, we were few the ones that got over 90 points, so I’ll try a second time to see what happens.
Can you imagine tho. Even and Isak being old together and having been married for like 50 years. Isak is still being a grumpy nerd and Even being a really acclaimed director and them having kids and grandkids.
They spend like evenings going on walks or complaining about being old. And yet after all those years… they’re still so so in love. Even still surprises Isak with stuff like drawings and flowers and “to my love, Isak Valtersen” in the credits of his movies.
Isak in the meanwhile has like discovered amazing and world changing things as an astrophysicist or doctor or something and called them Even or EBN or something close. And then… they also have a cat. And he’s grumpy and old but they love him so so much and called him Baz.