#it’s such lovely yet horrible winter here lately

[happyheidi]

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

5. Ramen Breakdown

Note: thanks for showing interested in the series guys! Enjoy the fluff!

Masterlist here

It had become something of a tradition.

After a long day of rehearsals, performances, or just surviving the chaotic world of the entertainment industry, Y/n would whip up some ramen for aespa (especially the bougee ramen that Winter always loved).

It wasn’t anything fancy, but somehow, Y/n had developed a reputation for making *perfect* ramen—something the girls had come to crave after late nights at the dorm ever since. No smoke alarms, no burnt pots. Just good old-fashioned comfort food.

But tonight was different.

Y/n had come over as usual, ready to make their favourite midnight snack as requested. The girls were all lounging around the living room, exhausted but still in good spirits after wrapping up some last-minute practice for their next performance.

Giselle was scrolling through her phone, while Ningning and Winter were sprawled out on the couch, chatting about the latest drama they were binge-watching. Karina sat in the corner, quietly observing the scene, the usual tension between her and Y/n slightly less palpable these days.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly at first. Y/n pulled out the usual ingredients, boiling the water and preparing the ramen just as he always did. The girls continued their chatter, the atmosphere relaxed and comfortable. It felt like any other night.

Until it wasn’t.

-

"Ya pabo, are you sure about this?" Winter called out from the couch, her tone half-joking, half-serious.

"Of course I am," Y/n responded, stirring the noodles with a grin. "I’ve been doing this for you for ages now. You know I’m basically a ramen expert."

"Yeah, but something feels off tonight," Giselle chimed in, her eyes flicking up from her phone. "I don’t know, maybe it’s just the vibe."

"The vibe?" Y/n was genuinely confused. "It’s just ramen, girls. Nothing to worry about. You watched too much K-drama now."

But then, without warning, the pot of water began bubbling more aggressively than usual. Y/n furrowed his brow, confused. He hadn’t changed anything about the recipe, and yet the water seemed to be boiling faster than normal. The noodles began to overcook, turning mushy, and the smell of burnt soup base wafted into the air.

"Dafuq...?" Y/n muttered, turning the heat down and trying to salvage the situation.

The girls all perked up, sensing something was wrong.

"Is something burning?" Ningning asked, sitting up straight on the couch.

"Y/n, what’s going on?" Karina asked, her voice slightly more serious now as she stood up from her spot.

"I don’t know," Y/n replied, frantically stirring the pot. "This has never happened before. It’s like the stove’s acting up or something."

Just then, the pot began to hiss and steam poured out, signalling that something had gone horribly wrong. The ramen broth, once the highlight of Y/n’s midnight snacks, had turned into a thick, sludgy mess.

"Uh... okay, this is definitely not normal," Y/n admitted, stepping back from the stove with wide eyes.

Before he could react further, the smoke alarm blared to life once again. The loud, piercing sound echoed through the dorm, sending everyone into a frenzy.

"Oh shit!" Giselle exclaimed, leaping off the couch as Winter raced to open the windows.

"Oppa, what did you do this time?" Ningning shouted over the alarm, already laughing despite the chaos.

"I swear, I didn’t do anything different!" Y/n yelled back, grabbing a towel and waving it under the smoke detector to stop the blaring noise.

Karina, despite her usual composed demeanour, let out an exasperated sigh and joined in the effort to fan away the smoke. Giselle ran over to the stove, trying to help, but the pot of ramen had already turned into an unrecognisable disaster.

"It’s like you’re cursed today," Karina said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “You’re like Junpei from JJK.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I think you might be right. Mahito is trolling with me today."

-

Eventually, the smoke cleared, and the alarm finally quieted down. The girls, though slightly frazzled, were still giggling uncontrollably as they surveyed the damage. The pot was beyond saving, the ramen reduced to a sad, burnt sludge at the bottom.

"Okay, what just happened?" Giselle asked, wiping away tears from laughing so hard. "You’re usually so good at this."

"I genuinely don’t know" Y/n threw his hands up in defeat. "I swear I followed the exact same steps as always. This doesn’t make any sense."

Winter came over, inspecting the charred remains of the ramen with a teasing grin. "I think you’ve lost your touch, idiot. Maybe you should retire from cooking."

"And let you cook? Helll no" Y/n said, playfully defensive. "It’s just a one-time fluke. I’ll get it right next time."

Ningning, still laughing, pulled out her phone. "I’m totally sending this to the group chat. Youngji and Yunjin will love this."

Y/n groaned but didn’t stop her. He was too busy trying to figure out what went wrong. "This has never happened before..."

"Maybe you just need a break,” Karina said, her tone surprisingly soft. She handed Y/n a glass of water and gave him a small, almost teasing smile. "Even ramen connoisseur have off days."

Y/n accepted the glass, grateful for the gesture. Despite the tension that had lingered between them for weeks, moments like this—when they could share a laugh over something as simple as ramen—made things feel a little lighter.

-

After the chaos of the ramen incident had settled and the group had resumed their usual banter, the atmosphere in the dorm was light and carefree again. Y/n lounged back on the couch, the failed ramen saga now just a funny memory that would definitely live in aespa’s dorm history. The girls, still buzzing with laughter, circled around him, offering their usual teasing remarks and grateful smiles.

However, just when Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any weirder, Winter suddenly blurted out something that caught everyone off guard.

"You know what?" she said, stretching her arms over her head. "We should ask the CEO if idiot can move in with us."

Y/n choked on his drink, nearly spitting it out as he sat up straight. "Wait, what?!"

Giselle burst out laughing, while Ningning’s eyes lit up like it was the best idea she’d ever heard. "Oh my god, yes! It would make everything so much easier," Ningning agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "He’s always here anyway, and he’s practically our fifth member already."

"And imagine how convenient it would be," Giselle added with a mischievous grin. "We’d have our very own sl- I mean, chef, and he could handle all of the stuff that happens around here. No more running back and forth to help us at weird hours."

Y/n shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "Guys, I’m not moving in. That’s not how this works."

Winter, undeterred, leaned forward with an innocent look on her face. "Why not? You’re here almost every day anyway. It would just make sense.”

Karina, who had been quiet during the initial exchange, smirked from her corner of the room. "I’m pretty sure the company would say no, but it’s an interesting idea."

Y/n’s eyes darted to Karina, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. "Even you think it’s interesting?"

She shrugged, a teasing glint in her eyes. "It would definitely keep things organised. Plus, I wouldn’t mind having someone else to share the responsibility of keeping everyone in check."

"Exactly!" Winter chimed in. "And we wouldn’t have to call him at three in the morning to come fix the Wi-Fi or handle random emergencies."

Y/n groaned, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. "You guys seriously don’t want me to have days off, do you?"

"Not when it comes to convenience," Ningning quipped, her grin widening. "But seriously, let’s ask the CEO tomorrow."

Y/n opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Winter pulled out her phone and began typing furiously. "I’m sending him a text right now."

"Wait, Minjeong, no—“

But it was too late. Winter hit send, and the room filled with the girls’ laughter as Y/n buried his face in his hands. "Oh god, I’m going to lose my job over this," he muttered, only half-joking.

"Relax," Winter said, patting him on the shoulder. "He’ll probably think it’s funny. Besides, it’s not like we’re really expecting him to say yes.”

"I hope not," Y/n sighed, still overwhelmed by the entire situation.

“I bet 100 bucks he will move in” Giselle challenged.

“Aeri….” Y/n sighed. “I bet a month I’ll personally cook ramen for y’all”

“Deal, mister.” And they shook hand, with the remaining members stood as witness.

-

A few weeks had passed since Winter’s wild suggestion to the CEO, and Y/n had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal. Between managing aespa’s hectic schedule and his usual barrage of tasks, he’d pushed the whole “moving in” idea to the back of his mind. Surely, the company wouldn’t allow something as outrageous as that, right?

But Y/n’s life was never that simple.

One day, as he was going over some documents in the practice room, his phone buzzed again—this time with an official company email. His eyes scanned the message, and his heart dropped as he read the first few lines.

“Dear Y/n,

we’re writing to inform you that, due to recent scheduling and logistical changes, your move into the aespa dorm has been approved. Your role as manager will now include living in close proximity to the group to ensure better coordination and efficiency…”

Y/n blinked, reading the words again to make sure his tired brain wasn’t messing with him.

“What the f-“

He quickly scrolled through the email, but there was no mistaking it. His move had been finalised. The company had approved it. He was really moving in with aespa.

For a long moment, Y/n just stared at his phone, his mind racing with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a bit of panic.

How did this even happen? Was it Winter’s persistence? Or maybe the CEO just had a weird sense of humour?

Whatever the reason, there was no going back now.

-

Later that day, Y/n found himself standing outside the aespa dorm with a few suitcases and boxes of his belongings. He had no idea how to feel about this new arrangement—part excitement, part dread—but before he could dwell on it, the dorm door flew open, and he was greeted by the beaming faces of the girls.

"Oppa!" Ningning called out, bounding over to him with enthusiasm. "You’re finally here! Welcome home!"

"It’s about time," Winter added with a grin, already grabbing one of his suitcases and dragging it inside as if it weighed nothing. "I told you it would happen."

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered, still in disbelief. "I didn’t think they’d actually approve it, though."

"Well, we’re glad they did," Giselle said, flashing him a bright smile as she took one of the boxes from his hands. "Now we don’t have to call you at all hours of the night to come over."

"You guys really think this is going to make my life easier, huh?" Y/n said, shaking his head as he stepped into the dorm.

"Oh, definitely not," Karina’s voice chimed in from behind him. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips. "It’ll probably be way harder for you now.”

Y/n let out a groan as he set down his remaining box. "Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jimin."

Karina just shrugged, her smirk widening. "Just being honest."

With the girls’ help, it didn’t take long to get Y/n’s things inside. They bustled around him, arranging his boxes in the small guest room he’d be using. Ningning hummed a little tune as she helped unpack, while Winter darted in and out of the room, offering unsolicited advice about where things should go. Giselle, on the other hand, took the opportunity to remind her manager of the bet.

"Hey loser, remember the bet?" she asked, eyeing one of the boxes suspiciously.

"Ah shit, right. There's that." Y/n groaned, completely forgot about the deal.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to your meal, Chef." Giselle quipped. "We can’t have you slacking off just because you live here."

"It’s not slacking off," Y/n protested. "And it's gonna be a month anyway*"

"Eh…nah" Winter teased, plopping down on the bed and giving him a mock-serious look. "We did say a month, but it might go on for…."

"For?"

"…ever." Winter pouted, making the manager disgusted at his childhood friend's antics.

Y/n rolled his eyes, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort from their playful teasing. Despite the chaos and unpredictability of his new living arrangement, it wasn’t as awkward or uncomfortable as he’d feared.

In fact, it almost felt... natural.

As they finished unpacking, Y/n couldn’t help but notice Karina hanging back, watching the others with a thoughtful expression on her face. Their interactions had been better lately—less tense, more relaxed—but there was still something unsaid between them. It lingered, unspoken, beneath the surface.

Before he could think too much about it, Karina walked over and handed him a small bag. "Here," she said, her tone neutral but with a hint of something else. “I picked up some snacks earlier. Figured you might need a break after all this."

Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an olive branch of sorts—an attempt to ease the tension between them. He offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jimin."

She nodded, her usual confident demeanour softening just a little. "Don’t mention it."

The room was quiet for a brief moment, the weight of their previous awkwardness still lingering, but for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to shift between them.

Tl:dr - Y/n has been added to the dorm.

-

Y/n lay in bed, still processing the day’s events, staring up at the ceiling of his new room. Living with aespa, being a part of their daily routine, their ups and downs—it all felt surreal. He was still getting used to the idea of sharing a space with them, knowing that tomorrow morning, instead of showing up at their dorm with coffee or breakfast in hand, he’d be here—part of the group in a way that felt strange yet... right.

He was about to drift off into sleep when he heard the door creak open. Before he could fully register what was happening, Winter barged into the room, casually plopping herself down on the edge of his bed as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yah, Y/n,” she said with a grin, pulling her knees up and making herself comfortable. “You thought you were safe in here?”

Y/n blinked, too tired and too caught off-guard to respond right away. “I... what? Minjeong, what the f-”

“Tomorrow. Breakfast. You better be ready to cook it,” Winter demanded, poking him on the forehead. “We’re not going to let you slack off just because you moved in with us. Actually, now that you’re here, we expect better ramen.”

Y/n groaned, rubbing his face. “I knew this was going to happen...”

“Of course it was going to happen,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And trust me, we’re not going easy on you. Especially Karina. She’s still skeptical about your skills.”

“Karina? Skeptical? You’re the one who made me cook at midnight last time. And also every single time since we auditioned together.”

Winter laughed, leaning back on her elbows. “Yeah, but she’s the one who’s going to make sure it’s perfect.”

“Great,” Y/n muttered, half-joking. “First day in and I’m already a chef instead of a manager.”

Winter chuckled before giving him a more serious look. “But, hey... welcome to the dorm, Y/n. We’re glad you’re here.”

Y/n felt his heart warm a little at that. Despite all the teasing and chaos, there was a genuine sense of family that had been building between them. And also Winter look even more dazzling under the moonlight.

“Thanks, Jeong.”

She grinned, getting up to leave but pausing at the door. “Oh, and one more thing... you should check your face in the mirror before you go to bed. You might find something interesting.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Winter just giggled and slipped out the door, leaving him baffled. He groaned again, pushing himself out of bed to check the bathroom mirror. As he flipped the light on, his eyes widened.

Drawn across his cheeks and forehead in colorful marker were doodles—smiley faces, stars, and a few other unidentifiable squiggles. His eyebrows had been drawn into exaggerated arches, and there was a tiny mustache inked above his upper lip.

2-0 towards Aespa girls. And Y/n definitely knew it was Winter's idea.

"KIM MINJEONG!!!"

[fairyhaos]

. ˚ maybe... a little bit sick?

requested by anon: "Hii can i Pls request taking care of Junhui when he’s sick (like maybe he has the stomach flu or smthn) and calls you to come over and be there with him"

pairing: junhui x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, sick fic, junhui is an adorable baby

word count: 1607

warnings: pet names (baby, love), junhui exaggerates his cold by saying he's "dying", mentions of burning up (not literally tho)

notes: this is really cute actually. i think i love writing for silly soft jun a lot <3

Junhui is not a person that falls ill. 

It's just not something he does. He's proud to admit that he's probably fallen ill a maximum of ten times in his entire life, and his immune system is so good that it could probably enter a competition against other immune systems and come out on top. The immune system olympics, if you will. 

But the main point is, Junhui doesn't get sick. He doesn't get hay fever, doesn't catch colds all that easily, could probably go out in the winter without a coat and still be fine the next day (albeit with a mild loss of feeling in his nose). 

Right now, though, as Junhui rubs his nose and tries to stop his eyes from constantly watering, he thinks that perhaps, perhaps, he could be coming down with something. 

It's a horrible thought. Unthinkable, in fact. Besides, it's the middle of summer! Who falls ill in July? 

"Y/N?" Junhui croaks, and then blinks, startled by the sound of his own voice. "Y/N?"

He has to stop, then, because his throat feels like sandpaper. Plus, one of his nostrils is running, and the other feels so blocked up that it's like it was replaced with an impenetrable brick or something. 

He's not sick, though. Junhui doesn't get sick. 

The sun is filtering brightly through the curtains, and he guesses that it's late morning by now. He hasn't been able to get out of bed since he woke up some hours ago, his head throbbing and protesting with every move he makes. He hasn't even been able to check his phone. 

Junhui coughs, then, a wet, uncomfortable cough that makes his body shudder and his brain rattle around uncomfortably in his skull. He sniffs, a little pathetically, and squeezes his eyes shut. Everything hurts. 

But he's definitely not sick. 

"Y/N…" he mutters, his hair feeling sticky on his forehead, his tongue cumbersome and rubbery in his mouth. Vaguely, he remembers that you're going out with friends this morning, and won't be back for a while. The very thought makes him whine internally, upset. 

Okay. 

Maybe he is a little sick. 

Centuries pass as he lies there in bed, admitting defeat, admitting that he really is sick for once and that being sick is horrible and all he wants is for you to come help him. Why are you taking so long to have brunch with your friends, damnit? 

He's drifting off into a hazy sleep once again, his entire body feeling like it's on fire when the front door finally, finally clicks open and he hears your voice. 

"Junhui?" you call, taking off your shoes. "Junhui, baby, are you up yet?"

It's around one in the afternoon when you've finally managed to come back home after meeting up with your friends, and normally your boyfriend would be bounding towards you and engulfing you in a hug, eager to hear how your outing had been. But the apartment is, oddly, silent, and there's no sign of a hyperactive Junhui anywhere. 

"Junhui?" you call again. 

And that's when you hear his voice, coming from his closed bedroom door. 

"Y/N… in here…"

He sounds weak, like he's on the verge of dying, and you gasp when you open the door and look at him. 

"Oh, darling!" You walk over to his bedside to place a hand on his forehead, sighing when he whimpers softly at the cool sensation on his burning skin. "Look at you, you have such a horrible fever. Wait here, I'll go get a cold towel," you say, and then hurriedly leave the room again. 

Junhui coughs pathetically again. "I can't really go anywhere… but okay."

You come back in a few seconds later, equipped with a cold compress, medicine and a glass of water. The kettle whistles in the distance. 

"How did this happen?" you scold lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a hand worriedly over his forehead again. "How did you manage to get yourself so ill?"

Junhui opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head. 

"Wait, don't answer that. You probably have a really bad headache right? Talking will make it worse." 

He closes his mouth again. 

"Poor Junhui," you murmur, wiping down his face and his sweat with a damp cloth. "It must really hurt, right?"

Junhui nods sadly, eyes half closed, as you put the cold towel over his forehead. "Hurts so much. I feel like I'm dying."

You laugh softly. "I can imagine. Can you sit up for me, baby? You need to take some medicine."

"No." He turns his head away when you offer him the pills and the glass of water, accidentally dislodging the towel from his head. "Don't wanna."

"Junhui, come on, it'll help," you wheedle softly, trying to encourage him. "You don't want it to hurt, do you? This'll help make it better, I promise."

"I can't," he whines, looking at you, and now there are tears pooling in his eyes. He coughs, then, so hard that the tears well up faster and end up spilling over slightly. Then he groans, head thumping, while you lean over to gently wipe his tears. "Everything hurts. I don't like it."

"Junhui, please?"

"No."

"Junhui, baby, it'll make everything feel a lot better."

"No."

"Junhui…"

Junhui, when he falls ill, becomes a little like a toddler. He doesn't get sick often, so when he does he always suffers terribly. He ends up throwing mini tantrums, pouting and resisting taking the medicine that will make him better purely because he doesn't want to. 

You may not have had to deal with a sick Junhui often, but really, it's about the same as dealing with a small child, so it's not that difficult. 

Several more minutes of wheedling later, you manage to get Junhui to sit up and drink the water along with his medicine. He ends up spilling half the glass all over himself and whines, looking at you with glassy eyes as if wanting you to tell him what to do. 

"Don't worry, it's just water," you tell him, stroking back his hair and adjusting the towel on his forehead to make sure it's in place. "Wanna have something nice to drink?"

In the kitchen, the kettle is beeping, signalling that it's finished boiling water. Junhui rapidly shakes his head, though, before wincing at the movement. 

"No. Don't wanna drink anything."

"Are you sure?" You tuck a damp curl of hair out of his face, noting that he's still sweating. He's really ill, the poor thing. "Have you eaten today?"

"Don't wanna eat anything."

"You've lost your appetite?" you ask worriedly. "What if I ask Minghao to come over and help make you some wonton soup? Would you like that?"

Junhui squeezes his eyes, once, and then coughs again. "No."

"I'll call him anyway," you say, getting up. "And I already boiled the water, so I'll make you some tea for your throat as well, okay? I bet you have a sore throat too."

He blinks, eyes a little glassy and confused. "Wait… how did you know?"

You chuckle softly, leaning over to pinch his cheek lightly. "Magic. Rest now, alright? You should try to sleep, let your body recover."

You back out of the room, watching his weak frame as he lies in his dim room, the curtains still drawn, eyes watery and half-open and a wet towel over his forehead. He looks so sad and forlorn, like a dejected kitten, and it would make you coo if a bigger part of you wasn't worried at just how ill he looked. 

You're just closing the door when he croaks out your name again, thin and warbly.

"Y/N?"

Pausing for a moment, you open the door again, poking your head in. "Yes, baby?"

He looks at you for a long moment, squinting out of puffy eyes, before giving you a small smile and lifting his arms. "Hug?"

Obviously, you really oughtn't. He's sick, after all, horribly so, and it would be much better for both of you if you stayed away. But his hair is all messed up and his cheeks are all flushed from his fever and he just looks so small swathed in all his blankets and really, how were you meant to refuse? 

He's warm, as he always is, and maybe he's a little warmer than usual but you let him hug you tightly, his head tucked under your chin, fingers gripping your shoulders while you bend over him and thread a hand through his hair. Junhui hums, pleased, when you lightly knead your fingers into his scalp, making little rumbly noises of contentment when your hand slips down his back, rubbing firm circles into his shirt. 

"Love you," he mumbles, his words a little drowsy but still soft and warm. 

You smile, kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

There's silence for a moment as he continues to cling to you while you kneel awkwardly on the bed, one knee on the mattress while your other foot supports your weight from the floor. And then Junhui speaks up again. 

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Junhui?"

"Instead of wonton soup, could you make me hotpot? A really spicy one?"

That makes you smile a little, endeared, and kiss his head again. His forehead is unnaturally warm still, and you disentangle him from your arms to rest him down on his pillow again, feeling vaguely like a prince lowering his princess to sleep. 

You brush gentle fingers over his cheek, fond. "Of course. Anything to make my kitten feel better."

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride

[beerok23]

Runaway Groom AU - Chapter 17

With the compliments of my beta @somewhere-in-wales

Excerpt from Chapter 17 - Spirits

It was past 8 in the evening, and he was taking a stroll down the high street. After the longest day of the year, the shops were finally all closed, and all the owners had gone home to their friends and families. It was a particularly cold night, and Aziraphale could feel the chill passing through his immaculate beige coat down to his core. You could spot little puffs of air coming out from his mouth, but his recently grown beard was proving to be really helpful to protect at least his cheeks from the glacial winter. Aziraphale was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the sound of steps on the pavement behind him. He was being followed, and when he eventually realised it, he turned around in one quick motion, startling the person who was approaching him. “Fuck, Az, you scared the shit out of me!” Aziraphale chuckled at his best friend’s colourful language, “I’m sorry, Anathema. You shouldn’t have been following me like a pickpocket, then.” Anathema narrowed her eyes cunningly, “It’s funny that you should mention pickpockets, because that might have something to do with what we’re about to do tonight.” “What I am about to do is go home and wallow in the misery of the distasteful, troubled, fragile existence that I’ve carved out for myself here.” Anathema scoffed, “You sound just like Crowley.” Yes, I do. So what if Aziraphale had spent the last couple of days reading all the pieces Crowley had published in the last ten years? What if he’d been inspired by his almost lyrical language? Sue him! “What do you want from me, Ana?” Aziraphale sighed in exasperation, and the fact that he’d just short-named her was proof enough of his distress. “It’s late, it’s cold, and I want to go home.” “No, you don’t. Because tonight you will be haunted…” Anathema moved her fingers in what was supposed to be a spooky gesture, “By Three Spirits.” It was Aziraphale’s turn to narrow his eyes at his friend, “What are you talking about?!” “Without their visits you cannot hope to shun the path you’re treading.” Aziraphale had known Anathema for years, and she’d never used those two verbs since she’d become a British citizen, not once. Good Lord, he knew British scholars who’d never used the word ‘shun’. But Aziraphale knew who did use it. “Why are you quoting Dickens to me, Anathema? You know I don’t like him that mu—” Anathema thumped her feet on the ground, “Will you just shut it and let me act?!” Aziraphale smiled tenderly at his friend and waved his hands so that she knew that she could go on with whatever silliness she was up to. “I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping a horrible fate.” “This sounds a little bit improv.” Anathema scoffed, “Maybe if you let me finish, Mr. Scrooge, you would understand!” “Right, sure. I can most certainly shut up.” “Thanks,” Anathema nodded hard at him. “Can I take the visits all at once and have it over, Anathema?” Aziraphale was deliberately misquoting the novel, now. But two could play this game. Anathema gave him a scornful look and mouthed a silent ‘fuck you’. Aziraphale replied with a whispered ‘love you’.

[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

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With the ineffable trailer created by @ineffablerainstorm and the support of my second beta @pookasluagh 💛🧡

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Make mine a Triple Gen 1 pt.79

Wednesday afternoon M was finishing a cup of coffee when Kason walked in and stood in the doorway. He leaned against the frame and smiled.

Kason: Look who I found outside.

Behind him stood Kiersten and Winter arm in arm like they'd known each other forever. Venus and Ishtar ran in to greet Winter.

Ishtar: Auntie Winter!

Venus: Queen of Fairies. We welcome you.

Winter: My dino master! And if it isn't my firey guard herself. How are the royal voidcritters? Trained and ready for battle I hope.

Venus: Always ready my queen.

They shared a laugh and Winter gathered them both into a long hug. After greeting the remaining members of the Gratz household, elated, M led the woman out into the backyard for some privacy. Winter headed over to the cooler to grab a drink while Kiersten wandered over to Kason's work shed giving M and Winter a moment alone. Unable to wait another minute they embraced. M pulled Winter in close but when she did she felt the slight bulge beneath her coat. She took a step back and stared at Winter, the unspoken question hanging between them, until M could no longer handle the silence.

M: Are you?

Winter: I didn't want to tell you over the phone.

M: Oh my watcher congratulations! When did you find out?

Winter shook her head smiling at her friend. She had missed M a great deal and was eager to share her own news but she had a duty to herself and Peyton to find out what had happened.

Winter: Nope, later. First, tell me everything.

Mercury caught Winter up on the Paris incident with Kiersten filling in any missing details. Bundled in their coats to fight the chill of late fall on the coast, they attempt to dissect Paris's behaviors.

Winter: I saw you a season ago. How did the Leprechaun from hell manage to start that much trouble? What’s her obsession with you?

M: *sigh* It was more my mess than anything. I never should have listened to anything she said, but the pictures blinded me, and I took out my fears on Kason.

Kiersten: Don't take responsibility for Paris's actions! She's a horrible person. She wanted to hurt you and Kason. But that seems to be her thing. She didn't even think twice about using her friend for her personal game.

Winter: Kiersten is right M. Don't give that bitch any more excuses for her poor manners and offensive behavior. She's lucky I don't put a spell on her!

Kiersten: Ooo that sounds like the perfect idea. Maybe one to zip her big mouth shut for a while.

Winter: Try forever.

It was the first time Winter and Kiersten had met. M was combining her two worlds and she hoped that her lifelong partner in crime could grow to like her new down-to-earth comrade.

So far it was going better than Mercury could have imagined. It was like striking gold. M loved Kiersten with her motherly attitude. She was sweet but honest and down for a fun time. But no one could contend with the creative, high-spirited, trouble-making fairy. Yet the two women interacted as though they had been friends their whole lives instead of a few short hours.

Kiersten: Rufus told me that since that night Paris has been worse than before at work. She even seems to have it out for Rufus now and they aren't even in the same department, and with Kason gone the last couple of days after the big promotion she's been in rare form.

M: Greg hasn't done anything to get her in order?

Kiersten: Greg has been away on vacation since the night of the company dinner. He flew to Tartosa with his husband.

Winter: Can't Kason just fire her? Sounds like your whole town is under attack. I'm just glad it turned out okay. Peyton tried to get on the first train out here. He was packing and mumbling something about kicking Kason's ass if any of it was true trying to calm him was hilarious. Come to think of it I owe Kason a smack on the head.

The women laughed. It was a relief to finally be able to talk about Paris so openly. M hadn't mentioned Paris or Madison unless she was talking to Takara. She even stopped asking Kason about Paris at work afraid to break the peace that had descended on their lives. If he didn't mention her neither would she.

Kiersten: Peyton is your husband right?

Winter looked over at M who had a smug smirk on her face

M: Yeah Winter is Peyton your husband?

Winter rolled her eyes and turned to Kiersten.

Winter: You have no idea what you've just started.

M: No go on Winter. Tell us when and how you got married.

Winter sighed and removed her coat. Hanging upside down on the sofa she rushed through the story.

Winter: We still lived in San Myshuno and the romance festival was in town. So Peyton and I stopped by just for a cup of Sakura tea when he got dragged into a love reading from one of those phony guru guys. Anyways he told Peyton not to make long-term plans about our relationship and that pissed Peyton off. You know Mr. I get what I want, he tried to get the guy to change his reading, and when he wouldn't Peyton swore he'd show him that we were meant for each other. Long story short, he pulled me over to the festival wedding arch and we were married that night.

Kiersten smiled with tears in her eyes, but M narrowed hers.

Kiersten: Wow! That's quite the story. It's simple yet so roman-

M: Moral of the story, she robbed me of my chance at being a bridesmaid!

Winter: Here we go again. No I did not! We’ve been over this. There wouldn't have been any bridesmaids because we would have married quietly at the courthouse! And you would have been my maid of honor. In charge of all the gritty stuff plus I’d get to boss you around.

M: Like you do already.

Winter knew that if she ever settled down she wanted to be married in private just her, her family, and her mate.

Winter: Besides you can't blame me for this it was completely Peytons idea.

M: I dont remember hearing a part in the story where you tried to stop him.

Winter: You can be Kiersten’s Maid of Honor, problem solved.

M: She’s already married Winter!!

Winter: Oh, right. Oh well.

Kiersten watched the two go back and forth. They became more animated the longer they bantered, but it was all in good spirit. Kiersten could tell they were close. She had missed this kind of female company until she’d became friends with M and she could feel Winter quickly growing on her. Suddenly she had a thought.

Kiersten: Oh my watcher! What if we plan her a wedding?

M rounded on her dropping back into the seat closest to Kiersten with a huge smile and flirty eyes.

M: Maybe you should marry me? Why didn’t I think of that it’s a great idea!

Winter hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Winter: I should have known you would be trouble, you are as bad as a fairy. Goddess like appearance yet a heart made of pure evil and you! Mercury Gratz if you-

M: Oh you have no idea. Kiersten grab Dite were about to go shopping.

Previous Next

Beginning

Sidebar: Winter kept switching her outfit between cold weather and every day. I just let it be since she's Pregnant AGAIN! (No I didn't make her once again Winter does what Winter wants) but I have changed the settings since then. I am blaming it on her bouncing between hot and cold.

Pose: @starrysimsie group couch chat @Atashi77 bowing down poses @simmireen three friends.

[kaccvcate]

sorry if this is a bit of a personal question, but is your lifestyle costly in any way, especially concerning the gas for your (sick) car? and is homesickness inevitable?

i feel like a stationary life in a house for years bogs me down. i don't know if i feel this way because of my current living situation causing me a lot of stress and a lot of bad memories attached to my current home, being in a shitty area, mental illness, or all of the above, but i just don't feel like i can live this way especially with my increasing wanderlust (a strong desire to travel).

it was magical to me seeing your many interactions and various views when you were traveling around the country. it was honestly really exciting! i feel like there's a lot to witness in the world and i want to see what i can in the short time i have on earth. (i think it's why i love visiting my family so much, besides enjoying their presence.)

but i don't want to throw myself head first into it, ya know? i want to know how much it's going to cost me. i would love to travel, but i don't wanna go broke over it! ;^;

i also have a strong attachment to my current home, florida. no other place has really matched its beautiful savannas, messy yet beautiful rivers, crazy plant overgrowth, and the nostalgic noise of cicadas (i even managed to find a shell this summer! it's my most prized possession, physical music aside). but, god... i really feel like fucking off sometime and going elsewhere for a little bit.

sorry if this is a lot of personal details, haha... you just feel very easy to talk to and i would like to have a roaming lifestyle. haven't been attached to people as much lately due to things, and i want to have my own adventures and experiences. maybe it's some sort of natural instinct to finally leave the family? xD who knows

To be honest, I've struggled with mental illness and depression the whole time I've been running this blog, and since I've stopped being homeless the last couple months, I've become a completely different and much happier person.

My comic seems very lighthearted and happy go lucky because I choose to focus on positive parts of my life in my work, it helps me to stay alive. When I was a kid my parents took me out of Mississippi, isolated and abused the shit out of me. My whole life I've actually dreamed of being able to live here and make music and have friends, and the whole time I was homeless I was homesick as fuck and cried multiple times daily. A lot of the drug use I portray is from times I was extremely suicidal, now I'm happy as a clam and don't ever feel the need to get fucked up like that, or hate myself or my life or anything (I don't even drink anymore.)

I've always wanted to help my family, who live in extreme poverty, but as a disabled person felt unable to. Now through my work, I'm able to be healthy and improve my life, and it's extremely satisfying.

I know this isn't the answer you guys probably want to hear. When my life was horrible and I was surrounded by abusers, moving into my car was the obvious choice, and while I was homeless, travelling was the obvious choice. You wear out your welcome one place and have to move on. For a while at first I stayed in one place and kept day jobs, which was difficult because of my condition, then when my old truck broke down I moved into the bando and just shoplifted all my food that wasn't paid for by fan donations. Through the kindness of my fans I was able to go to New York, there I lived on the street, and sometimes slept in parks or crackhouses, which isn't the most fun (although there were lots of funny times also, which I drew comics of, and crackheads can be as nice as anyone when they choose to be.) I was hoping to get treatment for my condition and get on disability, but without a place to stay through winter it was impossible. It was thanks to the generosity of fans that I was able to get a van, and I tried again to move to Mississippi, but things fell apart and I had nowhere to stay, so to avoid police attention I went out west. I had wonderful adventures in california, but still I regretted leaving my family to struggle while I bummed around having fun.

Even times I was really broke, kind people would take me in and feed me. People seemed to go out of their way to be extremely nice all the time as soon as I was out of Mississippi, and when I got out west it was fun to hang out in San Francisco with all the other free people who lived in and around Golden Gate Park (there are many.) Travelling was fun, I made so many amazing friends across the country and had great times, but still it was hard to be truly happy.

I'm very lucky to have the support network I do, my life wouldn't be possible without it. Living in a van is definitely cheaper than living in a house for obvious reasons. If you're going to move into a van, get to California as soon as possible, it's the best place to do it. But if you feel you're in a good situation and have nothing to gain from homelessness, you should just enjoy your nice life and be grateful. And next time you have some extra cash or bud, go hand out some alms to your friendly neighborhood busker. They need it more than you.

[shattered-reflections-au]

Fluffvember 15, In the firelight/candlelight / “I love you”

--- --- --- this is late i know, sorry!

Blue got Red settled in bed, turning to Red's extensive candle collection, pulling a lighter off of his desk to light them.

Blue turned back to Red, his beloved all swaddled up in numerous blankets, wet hair still dripping down his face.

"i'm sorry I dragged you through the rain." Blue said, tucking some wet bangs behind Red's ear.

Red sighed. "it's alright, I should have brought an umbrella." he said. and yeah, in hindsight, winter being what it was, snow or rain, an umbrella could be helpful.

"as long as you let me..." Blue trailed off, climbing into Red's bed. Blue waited until he was right beside Red to finish.

"UNDER YOUR UMBERELLA~" he hollered. "ELLA- ELLA- ELLA- AY- AY- AY- AY-"

Red grumbled, dragging Blue down into a laying position.

"you're horrible at singing." Red groaned.

"I thought you liked my singing-" Blue interjected.

Red rolled his eyes. "yeah, when you try."

Blue scoffed, pulling Red ontop of him.

"here, i won't sing any more. So you can still love me," Blue said dramatically.

Red rolled his eyes again. "I love you Blue, you know that." Red said matter-of-factly.

Blue got a playful look on his face. "oh? do i? maybe i need to hear it again to know." "i love you." "really? say it again then."

"i love you."

"hmmm, i don't think i quite get it yet."

"i love you."

"how about one more time?" Blue persuaded, shit eating grin on his face as Red huffed in frustration.

Red got up, sitting back on his knees as he straddled Blue's hips.

"I RED JONES AM FIRMLY IN LOVE WITH BLUE. AND IF YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THAT BLUE THEN YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HEARING CHECKED." Red yelled as loud as he could, his voice echoing off the walls.

Blue blushed hard. "okay, okay, I get it."

--- --- ---

Green had overlooked the off-key singing from his brother that came from upstairs. He was too wrapped up in "avoiding" spoilers for the new season of his favourite show to care.

The screaming from Red was what finally got him.

He turned to Vio, comfortably watching a show and drinking his sleepytime tea.

"i will never understand their foreplay." Green said.

Vio spat out his tea.

[blueparadis]

OVER THE MOON ; KAEYA ALBERICH

( CW ) :: college au + band au, (singer)!f! reader x guitarist!kaeya, one-sided pinning, temporary unrequited feelings, love confession, flirting, smūt undertones but nothing too explicit, kissing, soft lovemaking. [ based on this suggestion + notes ~ here. ] || redirect to blog navigation. ( WC ) :: 2kish.

    Kaeya Alberich has always a been a prominent presence in (y/n)’s life since her budding teenage years, sometimes a little too strong, sometimes a little too annoying, and sometimes a little too close but never a lamp. So, after graduating from college, when he became her roommate there was no room for embarrassment. Both of their college days were busy and bright, full of late-night talking and exchanging notes in the times of exams. While (y/n) had to put up with kaeya’s unending horde of blind and flash dates, Kaeya had to endure the agony of seeing her in neon lights with other guys and girls, so wide open for the world to get a glimpse of her yet so cocooned in front of him. Kaeya always had to see her in rectangles either in Twitter posts, Instagram stories, or WhatsApp video calls, never in person. Those halcyon days of mirth and warmth ended in high school. 

   Part of him hated her for that, hated to the extent that he did horrible things to her; like switching off the phone on her birthday and then, expecting her to be free for the surprise date he planned, like telling her that she is seeing someone and then, expecting her to be jealous about it. The most fucked up part of all this was (y/n) was still the same nice girl he met on a rainy day after school. They walked home together under one umbrella because Kaeya thought his umbrella was too girly for him to walk around. (y/n) was more than happy to help him because she got a partner for jumping in the puddles. She was never angry at him, always so accepting and forgiving, always being brave like the moon is of her grey cavities. Maybe she was and Kaeya was unaware of it. Guess, he'll never know. So much emotional confusion, bubbling like the lime sodas.

Well, that's what being apart from each other for so long does. Longing and hating, longing and missing; longing and then loving.

Now, he was determined to fix it, humble himself for her, and paint her in all the colors that exist beyond the skies, oceans, and rainbows.

    “What're ya doin'?” The curtains are drawn in an instant letting some germinating sunlight inside the room. It is neither too cold nor too hot, it’s perfect. This is why ( y/n ) likes winter, the heat becomes bearable.

    “and good morning to myself. to what do owe this pleasure?” (y/n) quipped lowering the headphones down to her shoulders, closing her musical-sheet notebook so as to look up at Kaeya who lazily dragged a lonely chair, sitting with his hands resting on the frame of the chair and legs set across the seat.

    He quipped sourly, “I live here, remember?” That’s right. This cozy little place that was once used as a store room, just like another dumping room in this enormous house is now used as a studio for practice sessions. Yeah, each member has a key to the studio so he could give her one. It was hard for him: to hide his affection for her but he knows, that keychain, that key means nothing to her. He knows she just keeps it with the bunch of rotten keys. Noticing how her eyebrows and lips did a flip followed by a scrunched-up nose Kaeya supplied, “I see. You’re still getting used to it.” licking his bottom lip to hold back his smirk. 

At first, it started with simple things. You, coming to his studio and live performances, helping him with his gigs, or sometimes even composing the music. And now, you have become a part of his band. You still remember how bashful he sounded while saying that he wanted you, only you if he ever wanted a female vocalist or someone by your recommendation. Yeah, he trusts you like that! Part of you thinks that he might have asked you just to stay connected in one way or another since you two are a year away from completing university studies. And, another part of you regrets, having all those college years wasted. Couldn’t he have asked you sooner?

Yes, he could have but that would spoil the fun of teasing you, making you angry with his foolish little tactics, and getting your attention by doing the most embarrassing things in the middle of a mob— yeah, flirting with you, pursuing you, being secretly possessive for you and hence, keeping you close to himself; only for himself. He wanted to do all the things that he could not do with you in those corroded college years— pampering you with surprise gifts, going salon with you, taking you on random dates; his list does not end here but he can not enact all of his wishes so as easy as the wind. There is a fine line he is unable to cross. Years of friendship weigh him down. It is always one step forward and three steps back.

Just after shifting to the new university, he would spend most of his evenings alone; thinking about what ways he should tell you. He even waits for your late-night calls and is hesitant to call you, sometimes but when his longing is up to the brim he generally goes for a video call. While you are busy doing some chores, roaming around the house never still in one place he just . . . talks, watches you. He still manages. After all, why would a person prefer video calls over simple calls who are living in the same city, seeing each other almost every day? He gets it, alright? It’s just he was missing ( y/n ) so much that meeting her after two days at the gig won’t be enough. He would not be able to hold back himself that long. He might do something stupid, he knows it.

Gigs with Kaeya have always been special to you. You never dwelled on ‘why’? Pictures flooding all socials, fans making little theories about you and him being a ‘thing’, seeing a fresh batch of memes, and above all the most important— his performance. Even though you share the same stage with him, he never forgets to state that he is all here because of you. Holding the microphone, telling the crowd a little story of one of the jamming sessions, and swinging it towards you in a regal way. How could not anyone fall for that? You know anyone would but not you. The squeals and cheers from the crowd tell you the same and maybe that’s why he is a little different towards you, maybe that’s why you are being chosen as the lead vocal singer for their band. That has to be it. You have spent half of your life-time with him, that’s why he is comfortable flirting with you, hooking his arms around your waist in front of the cameras. . . Love doesn't make sense here.

“Kaeya, why would you come here of all places?” (y/n) stated as soon as she figured they are going in the direction of an amusement park. That place is full of people, full of stares and people are so quick to gossip, not that none of them cares but averting such vague situations is always better than worrying, lending ears to those rumors, isn’t it? It’s so unlike him. “People come here for dates.” you tartly spoke frowning at him as they indeed the park through the gate.

“Yeah, did we have any other choice?” Kaeya’s voice was deeper than usual. tensed. Did she find out already why they are here?

“Of course. We could have. . .” she tried to protest but it was futile against that soft sapphire gaze. Lately, he has that look in his eyes, like he is about to cry like he is enduring something hurtful — it’s a haze, really. “. . . nevermind forget it.”

  “I’ll go buy something for us to eat.” You stated before leaving. Kaeya sits on the edge of the fountain of mond. He watches you from distance humming a tune in his head. “I cannot explain

These things I feel for you” He sees you and remembers how many times he has thought of confessing but couldn’t, how many times he was about to confess but couldn’t. “People come here for dates, huh?”

When you came back holding food, he scooted to a side holding the dishes so that you could take a seat in front of him. You hear him humming and you recognize the song. You rock my world by Micheal Jackson. You let out a little chuckle remembering how you and he used to sing a song in a duet. It is a silly game but you liked it doing with him anyways. But he is humming now, it's special. He rarely hums. He hums when he is either sad or just to annoy diluc You know he is not sad. The last gig was successful and he told you that he would buy you something of your choice if the gig went ‘good’. That is not something grave to be sad about 

“But girl, you know it's true 

   Stay with me”

“Oh we’re playing this game now.” You asked crossing your legs one over the other, setting aside the lime soda to sit beside him.

Kaeya hums the next two lines,

“Fulfill my dreams

And I'll be all you need” 

“Hey, that was supposed to be my line.” you retorted turning towards him. His lips part, his gaze stills on your lips, and then his lips close. He takes your hand saying almost whisperingly, “(y/n), we’re not playing any games.” He clears his throat, “I’m not playing any games.” The weight of his words bangs your head as you feel the squeeze over your palm. It is true. He is not playing, not anymore. There are no cameras, no fans, no one to please— just the two of you, sitting next to each other while the world is the busiest. Kaeya interlaces his fingers with yours trying not

Kaeya interlaces his fingers with yours trying his best not to shock you. He had an idea of all sorts of reactions you’d give him but this one was the least expected. “Okay. we’re not playing any games,” you murmur so that you let this incident drill in you and wake you from this shock. Kaeya’s lip bends in an upper curve at one of the corners as he leans. You do not move. He still has his mask on. “Feels so right girl

I've searched for the perfect love all my life” He recoils and places a kiss over your lips, softly grazing, heat sipping through his mask. He looks back at you. “Have finally found a perfect love this time” Kaeya sees your lips touching your ears, embarrassment seeping through your cheeks, your hand, your palms. He sees your lips touching your ears, your face smearing with a teeth-flashing grin, embarrassment seeping through your palms. That is when he knew he did it well, all of it from flirting with you to pursuing you to confessing to you. All.of.it.

[tarisilmarwen]

Title: Little Wooden Lightsaber Boy

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Rating: K+

Pairing/Relationships: Ezra/Sabine

Character(s): Sabine Wren, Tristan Wren, Alrich Wren, Ursa Wren, Tiber Saxon, Darth Maul, Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: Life Day at the Wren stronghold is always a big affair, and this year Sabine gets a very special present--a little wooden figure of a handsome Jedi general. Nutcracker AU.

AO3, FFNet

@sabezra-life-day-celebration

It's late, because surprise surprise I had a plot bunny bite my ankle and get Ambitious, but here is my fic for Sabezra Life Day Celebration. Hope you all enjoy!

---

Sabine loved the winter holidays.

It was one of the only times in the year the Wren Stronghold came alight with color and music, the normally dour gray halls festooned with green garlands and red ribbons, bright glowing glass orbs nestled in the branches of the enormous evergreen tree she and her extended family went out and cut down each year, hauling into the great hall with laughter and a unity of purpose. The fires stayed burning almost all night and her father piped festive songs and carols from giant speakers in his artist studio, the notes carrying down the halls and making the frozen palace alive and breathing with warmth.

She sat at one of the long tables now, a piece specially set out for the occasion, crowded between a half-dozen like it and covered with a soft, immaculately white tablecloth the color of the falling snow. Her fingers itched to draw, as she took in the twinkling splendor of the Life Day tree, glimmering yellow and violet and green and orange-gold in the corner.

It was technically a Wookie holiday, Life Day, but since the end of the Clone Wars and the victory of Coruscant, the winter celebration had spread throughout the galaxy, each planet in the Republic popping up with their own traditions and customs. Sabine had only been a toddler, but all her life she'd heard the stories—about how the Jedi Order bravely uncovered a horrible Sith plot, overthrew the Chancellor and installed a new era of peace and prosperity.

A prosperity they were heartily enjoying now, she thought, eyeing the platter of roast nerf ribs being passed down the table.

She grabbed a chunk from the platter and bit into it eagerly, the warm seasoned juices filling her mouth.

"Sabine!" her mother chided, from her spot at the head of the table, a place of prominence befitting the Countess. "Manners!"

Sabine grabbed up her napkin and wiped her chin, grinning cheekily at Ursa as the festivities carried on. Her favorite part of the night was coming up—the traditional Mandalorian dances and gift exchange. They had to entertain a few other clans this year—the stronghold was quite crowded—so she and Tristan had promised to be each other's dance partners all night, to stave off any untoward attempts to seduce either of them, any political proposals that might have been sprung on them unexpectedly.

Her brother was already reaching for her hand, urging her out onto the dance floor in the center of the Great Hall. Sabine took one last bite of succulent rib roast, then put her hand and her trust in Tristan, who led her to the center of the floor and kept close to her as the music grew louder.

"So far so good," he quipped to her, as the music played on, loud and raucous as only a Mandalorian celebration could be, bodies breaking off from the dining tables and joining them on the dance floor. "I don't think I've seen a clan head look your way yet," he continued, teasing.

Sabine rolled her eyes with long-suffering affection. "Let's try to keep it that way," she said.

She stayed close to her brother as the night and the party drew on. Her father eventually emerged from his studio, beaming brightly as he presented Tristan and Sabine and the other young clan heirs with their gifts. Sabine accepted the brightly-wrapped package eagerly.

She tore the paper, the gilded green and gold coming off the box easily under her hands. She carefully lifted the lid of the white box and set it aside, gasping as she saw the contents.

A beautifully carved and painted wooden figure lay in the tissue paper. Sabine marveled at her father's craftmanship. The figure was immaculately designed, styled to look like an armored Jedi Knight from the Clone Wars, with a smart-looking blue hauberk and tabbards, orange piping along the sides of its tunic and leggings. It had a handsome tan face and bold black dots for eyes, and the hair was a blue-lined black painted on the back of its head. It had a prominent hinged jaw, a wood piece that connected to a lever in its back. Sabine carefully lifted the figure out of its packaging and worked the lever, seeing how the device fit together.

It was a nutcracker. A decorative kitchen tool, meant to crush the hard shells of koja and areca and a bevy of other species.

Sabine breathlessly thanked her father, one arm squeezing around him while the other clung to her prize.

"He's beautiful!" she told him, gazing once again with admiration at the little carved figure.

Alrich beamed with pride, launching into a prepared explanation of his artistic process, pointing at various parts of the nutcracker and explaining them.

Sabine listened with rapt attention, the artist in her appreciative and impressed. The gift exchange done, she dismissed herself from her father's presence, sitting back down at her place at the table and just watching the party continue on, late, late into the night as the fires popped and the drinks flowed freely.

Her gaze kept straying to her nutcracker, and more than once she let her fingers feather over the fine details, the meticulously painted golden fasteners and the sweeping lines that delineated armor pieces.

She was so caught up by the workmanship that she didn't notice when her distant cousin, Tiber of Clan Saxon, darkened her shoulder, not until he snatched the wooden figure from her hands and brought it up to his face to sneer at it.

"A little old to be playing with dolls aren't you, Miss Wren?" he huffed.

Sabine's mouth soured immediately, and she made a grab for her father's present. "Give that back!" she demanded. "It's mine!"

Tiber held it away from her, at arm's length with a curdled disdain. "What is this even supposed to be?" he asked snidely.

Sabine glared icily. "It's a Jedi General," she told the older man, hotly. "Give it back."

Tiber dodged the swipe she made for it with her hand, stepping away from the table. "Poor craftsmanship to fit a poorer subject matter," he dismissed. "What paltry Clan Wren trash."

Sabine watched in horror as he dropped her gift carelessly on the ground and stomped on it with his metal-lined boot.

"Hey!" she objected in distress, diving for her nutcracker.

Tiber was already stalking off, exiting the hall with a handful of his entourage, not even paying her a spare glance behind. Sabine glowered darkly as she carefully cradled her nutcracker to her chest, brushing off the scuff marks Tiber had left in the paint.

Her heart panged in dismay as she found that she couldn't erase a couple of the scratches. They dug into the wood of the figure's cheek, two ugly lines that marred her Jedi's smiling face.

Sabine tried her best to smooth out the gouges but it was no use, and she bit her lip, holding back her emotions.

As if sensing her sorrow, her father appeared at her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Sabine?" he asked, brown eyes full of concern.

Her mouth pinched and twisted as she explained, holding out the nutcracker to him. "Look what Tiber did to your work!" she complained, eyes stinging, blinking hard.

Alrich took the wooden figure gently in his hands, making a quick scan of the damage.

After a moment he smiled.

"Oh that's not so bad," he said. From his pocket he pulled out a little white helmet, styled after the clones of the 501st, Skywalker's Fist. He slid the wooden helmet into place on the nutcracker's head. "See? He's all right," he assured her, handing it back.

Sabine took the nutcracker in her hands, begrudgingly admitting to herself that the helmet suited the little wooden figure, made it look a little more authentic and complete. She cradled the wooden man to her chest, vowing not to let it out of her sight, holding it like a precious jewel against her body.

She stayed far away from the members of Clan Saxon the rest of the night.

***

The fires were low-burning embers and coals, the hall growing cold and dark, by the time the party finally wound down. Sabine bade goodnight to her family—and her nutcracker, giving it a little kiss on the helmet before stowing it safely away in one of the armor cabinets—and retired to bed.

Alone in her room, however, watching the starlight and falling snow outside, Sabine found herself too wound-up to sleep. A strange agitation kept her awake, tossing and turning long hours until she gave up and rolled out of bed.

For a while she painted, scratching her brushes on a canvas with idle consideration. Nothing really emerged from her footling, mostly just abstract ideas here and there. Biting the end of her paintbrush she decided she needed a little more inspiration.

She grabbed one of her spare sketchbooks, slid a thick brocaded robe on over her shoulders and short silken nightdress, slipped her feet into her house slippers and stole down the dark quiet hallways back to the great hall.

The room glowed with soft multicolor light from the glass orbs in the tree. There was a soothing, peaceful kind of silence to the room. Sabine liked how the glow bounced off the walls, played with the edges of the transparisteel panels of the windows.

She sat and sketched the tree for a few moments, enjoying the quiet scritch of her pencil on the paper.

Her eyes stole towards the armor cabinet in the corner. It held her mother and father's ceremonial beskar, and now it kept her nutcracker safe. Sabine felt an urge to get it out again, and didn't resist that urge. She crept to the cabinet, stepping softly even though she didn't have to, even though everyone else in the stronghold was probably asleep, grabbing the clutch and lifting it, making the hinges squeak as she opened the door.

Her father's gift was right where she left it. Sabine reached for him and sighed in awe of the craftmanship yet again, holding the wooden figure against her stomach with a tight embrace.

She walked back over to the throne on the dais at the other end of the room, sinking onto the comfortable cushion and just... letting the quiet fill her. The warm glow from the tree, the stillness, it was a better lullaby to her over-excited mind than anything else.

She found herself curling up on the long cushion, nutcracker tucked under her arm and robe draping over her feet, her breaths growing deeper...

***

She woke, groggy and confused, in the wee hours of the night, with that agitation back, along with a strange sense of unease.

Sabine blinked, squinting through the dark. The warmth of the tree wasn't reaching her anymore, and she shivered, tucking her arms inside her robe as she sat up.

As she was trying to pinpoint the cause of her apprehension, there was a scurrying of shadows in the corner of her eye.

Sabine's head whipped in that direction, her eyes straining, but she couldn't see anything.

She stepped down from the dais to the floor, glancing warily around.

Pinpricks raised on her arms, her unease growing. She still couldn't see any danger but...

Wait, where was her nutcracker?

Sabine's chest jolted with a shot of panic as she realized her father's gift wasn't with her, wasn't on the throne where she'd left it. As her head whipped around in search of it, something else alarming caught her attention.

She tilted her head back, eyes squinching in confusion.

Was the tree... bigger?

No, she realized, glancing back towards the dais and mentally measuring the height of the steps. She was smaller. And not just smaller, she was shrinking.

Alarmed, Sabine gaped up at the tree now towering above her, massive. The delicate glass baubles now looked like huge boulders, the pines as large as spears. Her chest clutched and she staggered back in disbelief, gawking about her now-giant surroundings.

"No no no no, this can't be happening," she said in a small, panicked voice. She was having some kind of horrible dream. This couldn't be real.

It felt terribly real.

As Sabine clutched arms around herself, willing herself to wake up, the scurrying shadows returned, vague shapes taking form in the darkness all around her.

She backed up, and backed up, but didn't miss how the shadows coalesced into humanoid figures. A face emerged from the darkness, malicious, skin shockingly patterned in red and black, with eerie yellow-gold eyes and a head ringed with horns like some kind of twisted crown.

Sabine's breath hitched and she stiffened, recognizing the face from old historical holos.

The face came with a snide voice.

"This is the heir to Clan Wren?" The figure she could now identify as a Zabrak shook his head condescendingly. "How disappointing. Mandalore has fallen far indeed since I ruled it."

Her teeth ground stubbornly, fear disappearing behind a glare as she put a name to the ugly face. The Usurper of Sundari, the head of Crimson Dawn, a menace and a thorn in Mandalore's side for years. What was he doing in the stronghold?

"Unshrink me and then get out of my house!" she demanded.

Maul pinned her with a malicious sneer. "No," he said, chillingly. "Tonight... I will take my revenge on all the clans that betrayed and unseated me."

Sabine would have snorted and rolled her eyes, made a smart comment about how ridiculous a notion that was given that they were both apparently a foot tall, but then Maul pulled out a wicked-looking silver hilt and ignited it in a red flash.

Her throat caught, eyes widening at the crimson lightsaber blade, humming ominously. Behind the Sith came armor-clad figures from the shadows, Mandalorian warriors arrayed with the colors of their lord, Maul's underlings. She backed up again, apprehensively, heart pounding, trying to remember how to wake herself up because surely this had to be some kind of nightmare.

Maul savored her moment of terror, raising his saber and beginning to charge for her.

Sabine braced herself to fling back—

Something leapt through the air to land in-between them, a blue-clad figure that held up its own hilt and ignited it with a burst of blazing bright green.

Her eyes widened further, a thrill and sense of awe moving through her.

It was her nutcracker, no longer still and wooden and tiny, but moving, made of flesh, and her size.

Shockingly alive.

Maul seemed only mildly perturbed by the interference, frowning in displeasure before motioning his troops forward.

"Kill the Wren heir," he ordered. "The Jedi is mine."

The Mandos rushed forward past him, surging towards her in a charge. Her nutcracker intercepted them first, green blade slashing out, striking armor and limbs. Many of them surrounded him, leveling their blasters at his helmeted head. With an elegant precision she had only seen in holos he deflected red shots off his blade, air filling with the cacophony of laserfire.

For a moment Sabine was pinned in place, frozen with horrible indecision—she had no weapons and there was no way she'd fit into her parents' beskar as she was, if she could even reach the handle for the cabinet—but then she tightened her fists and steeled her resolve. She was Mandalorian. Her very body was a weapon.

The first soldier that made it past her nutcracker's guard to attack her got his knee kicked in for his trouble. Sabine drew back her elbow and slammed it across the helmeted face, snapping his head aside.

He crumpled, and she picked up his heavy sidearm, taking aim at the other warriors, shooting them with indiscriminate desperation.

One went down, two more were distracted enough by the hits she landed that they were easy pickings for her nutcracker Jedi General's emerald blade, falling with loud pained cries as the lightsaber pierced them.

Sensing movement at her right, Sabine whipped around, firing, only to feel the blaster ripped from her hands by an unseen force.

She gasped, stumbling upright, looking up at the cruel yellow eyes of Maul as he raised his glowing red blade vindictively.

It started to fall.

Sabine flinched, but a second later a green blade blocked the red one, her nutcracker moving quickly to protect her, breathing hard inside his clone trooper helmet.

Maul's face twisted in rage and he shoved the other man off, attacking viciously, blade crashing again and again in heavy overhead blows upon her nutcracker's guard.

Sabine looked around for another weapon, but she couldn't find one—the other Mandalorians lay dead on the ground but their blasters were missing, nowhere to be found. Her Jedi was panting audibly now even across the distance, fatigue evident in his movements, slowly giving ground to the Sith Lord's onslaught.

He blocked again and again but the attack was merciless, coming harder and faster as Maul's face screwed with fury, bearing down on him.

Sabine watched with horror as her nutcracker Jedi was forced to his knees, kicked hard in the chin and sent falling to the ground. Maul crowed in victory, raising his saber for the final blow.

"No!" she cried, rushing forward, pulling one of her house slippers off and leaping at Maul's back, beaning him hard in the neck with the leather-tipped sole. "Leave him alone!"

Maul grunted, taken aback by her assault, and the hard heel whacked solidly against his back and head as she slammed the slipper into him, beating at him desperately with all her strength.

A hand like a steel timber caught her chest and pushed her back, sent her stumbling but not falling. Sabine looked up defiantly into the red-rimmed yellow eyes that boiled with anger at her.

Those eyes turned away as the hum of the green saber vibrated from behind. Maul angled to address the threat, red saber lifted but... stiffened. The yellow Sith eyes went wide as he and Sabine realized where the emerald blade had stuck.

Dead center in the Zabrak's chest. A fatal, killing blow.

Her nutcracker pushed the blade in slightly deeper, eliciting a dying gasp from Maul, who dropped his saber and clutched at the Jedi's own, expression in disbelief and shock as the other man twisted him around, away from Sabine, his body speared on the tip of the green blade as her nutcracker crouched protectively in front of her.

The Sith slid off the blade with a dying gasp, crumpling into a heap on the ground. He stilled, and moved no more.

The green blade extinguished.

The heavily-breathing figure stayed curled in his crouch for a long time, long enough that Sabine began to worry if he was injured, but then he straightened, drawing her immediate attention.

Sabine watched, heart still rapidly thumping, as her nutcracker rose up, hands reaching softly for the edges of his clone trooper helmet.

The helmet was slipped off, gently, revealing soft blue-tinted dark hair. The boy—for it was unmistakably a boy now, young, about her age—seemed to contemplate and study his own helmet for several seconds.

Then, he tucked the helmet under his arm and turned towards her.

Sabine started, her heart and throat catching.

Oh. Oh he was cute.

Boyish, lazy half-smile, tanned skin the color of warm amber, shockingly electric blue eyes that she found absolutely mesmerizing.

Sabine swallowed, feeling at a loss for words.

Her nutcracker spoke, instead.

"Thanks," he said, dipping his head respectfully, in gratitude. "You saved my life. I couldn't have beaten him without your help."

"It was nothing," she heard herself saying in a daze, the words floating around her. "Couldn't let my favorite Life Day present get shanked by an actual demon."

His smile widened, teeth bright white against his darker skin and she almost melted. Sabine shook herself, chiding herself for being so overtaken by a pretty face, and slowly approached him.

The closing proximity still made her heart thud, painful in her chest. She willed herself to be calm as she reached him. Her hand drifted up towards his cheek, touching twin thin red scars that mirrored the scratches Tiber had inflicted upon her nutcracker, what seemed like a distant eternity ago.

"Sorry about those," she muttered. "Tiber was a jerk."

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Happens when you're stuck in a twelve inch wooden body," he dismissed. Blue eyes sparkling, he held his hand out to her. "Hey, you wanna get away tonight?"

"Get away?" she repeated, absently, still entranced by his face and smile and shining eyes.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Come with me. I want you to meet my folks."

Head reeling, Sabine found herself nonetheless placing her hand in his. "Moving a little fast, aren't we?" she said. Her body pulsed with electricity, with adrenaline, with a thrilling exhilaration she couldn't put a name to or define. "I don't even know your name..." she trailed.

"It's Ezra," he offered up, so very casually, as he began to lead her into a white snowy mist that had suddenly appeared around them. "Ezra Bridger."

"Sabine," she told him, blushing as she stared at their entwined hands. "My name's Sabine."

***

The white twinkling snow-covered wonderland he led her out the door into couldn't have been Krownest, she determined. The trees had never sparkled so brightly, the sun had never been so warm and yellow. There had never been such a rainbow of color glittering in the depths of the snow.

There had certainly never been any green-skinned Twi'leks with glimmering translucent wings living in the woods around the stronghold, and yet that was exactly who met them now, bare green arms reaching for Ezra's face like a fretful mother's, worried green eyes searching him.

"Are you hurt?" she asked anxiously, and for the first time he let Sabine's hand fall, reached to embrace the woman and reassure her.

"I'm all right, Hera," he said. "Sabine here protected me."

The woman—fairy?—turned to Sabine, who pushed her bangs out of her face self-consciously, feeling awkward.

A warm smile lit the woman's expression.

"Thank you," she said. "We owe you a debt of gratitude."

Sabine shrugged, making a noncommittal sound. There were other beings starting to crowd around her, aliens of every kind, all sporting the same kind of shimmering frost-covered wings the Twi'lek woman had. She was clearly their leader, and she clapped her hands to call for attention.

"Everyone, everyone!" she addressed. "Let's not overwhelm her." The warm smile turned on Sabine again, as Hera extended a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "Would you like to join us for the Life Day feast?" she asked. "It's the least we can do to thank you."

Sabine's mind was still reeling, still convinced she was half-dreaming, but she nodded mutely, gawping, trying to take everything in. There was a man hovering by Hera's shoulder, teal-eyed and broad-shouldered, and he nodded at her in acknowledgement and respect as Ezra led her past him.

Her nutcracker brought her to a brightly-lit clearing, where dozens of beings milled about, dancing, singing. It didn't seem like they were on Krownest anymore, at least not from the gray-green moss-covered walls of stone, rising up all around her.

What followed next was the most wonderful dream. A festive party was conducted before her eyes, full of more color and life than she'd ever seen. Hera and her partner—a man she learned was called Kanan—asked her a million questions she couldn't keep up with, made Ezra recount the story of how she had bravely saved him a dozen times. Spectators to the story ooh-ed and aah-ed appreciatively at the the appropriate dramatic places. Ezra himself stayed by her side the whole time, hand clutched tight around hers.

Sabine's heart stuttered and stammered. She traced the edges of Ezra's face with her eyes, watched every small movement of his face as he rambled amiably with the others, greeted each party guest with a smile and a joke to set them at ease. A longing tugged at her chest, painful in how much she wanted this, wanted to stay with him in this wonderful, magical, inexplicable moment of surreal joy and light.

He seemed to sense her troubled heart, looking over at her in concern.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

Sabine felt a shudder run through her whole body, felt herself gripping tighter to his hand.

"I just..." she said, trailing off with a dry throat, suddenly fearful. "I don't want this to end."

His reassuring smile lit up the depths of her heart, filled her with a giddy rush. "I'm not going anywhere, Sabine," he promised. "I'll stay right here."

Her chest clenched, eyes stung as she held back tears.

The celebration wound down, the brightly diverse figures slowly ceding space to Hera and Kanan, who danced intimately in the center of the floor, entwined in a way that made Sabine jealous. When the music ended, there was a certain finality to it, and Sabine felt herself already missing the music and light of the party, so different from how her family had conducted it, but beautiful and wonderful all the same.

Ezra pulled her up from their seats and guided her onto the back of a leathery-hided creature, helping her into a gilded seat strapped upon it. The creature bellowed, low and mellow, filling Sabine with a giddy high of adrenaline.

"I don't want this to end," she said again, thrilling as Ezra came to sit beside her on the purrgil.

His smile was thinner now, bittersweet. "You have to wake up, Sabine," he told her. "You can't stay here."

"Will I see you again?" she asked anxiously, clinging to him like he would slip away if she let go.

A small nod, so slight and imperceptible she almost missed it. "Trust in the Force," he whispered, and then the purrgil was lifting off, the snow-covered ground was falling away below them and her eyes were filled with twinkling blue stars in a winter sky.

Giddy, she felt a rush of speed press against her front, blue glowing hyperspace filling her eyes, hurtling her forward into the cosmos, into a warm ether that felt like home.

***

Sabine stirred stiffly, blinking her eyes open at the white morning light that was falling into her face.

Confused, she took in the quiet great hall. The tree in the corner was normal-sized, the tables were all still there, cleared off and pushed to the sides like they had been when she'd stolen down there.

Her nutcracker was by her side, underneath her arm.

Feeling a great sinking disappointment, Sabine sat up, a groaning sigh escaping her.

"Oh don't tell me it was all just a dream..." she moaned, holding up her nutcracker. His black dot eyes stared back at her, painted smile still and friendly.

Sabine pressed her lips tight, heart and mood drooping, trying to remember every second of her time with Ezra. His warm easy nature, bright smile, handsome face, eyes blue as hyperspace, how quickly he laughed and how wonderful it sounded when he did.

Great. He'd ruined her for other men and he wasn't even real.

Dismally, Sabine gathered herself up, picking up her sketchbook and starting to head for her bedroom.

Voices from the entrance hall caught her attention, as she was moving through the passage. Her mother and father, talking in a low voice to someone standing just inside the door.

"Last night, you said?" Ursa was saying, sounding concerned.

"Yes Countess, we believe he used Dathomirian Nightsister magick to conduct his attack," replied the visitor.

Wait a minute... that was Kanan's voice.

Breath hitched, Sabine crept closer to the entrance hall, now fully alert and tuned into the conversation. She peeked around the corner, spying her parents and a pair of strangers in brown robes. She only see Kanan—and yes it was him—through the gap left by her parents' backs. She couldn't see her father's face but from his troubled tone she knew he was frowning, brows wrinkled.

"Several of the clan heirs mentioned having nightmares last night," Alrich said. Sabine slipped into the room, walking up behind her father, pulse rapid, trying to peek around him. "You're saying that was actually part of a psychic assault?" he asked.

"It was," Kanan confirmed, nodding gravely. "My padawan and I did our best to minimize the damage and protect your minds."

She had a view of the other visitor now, and her eyes slid off Kanan to him as Kanan spoke.

She forgot how to breathe, her chest swelling, head tingling.

Soft dark hair, thin padawan braid tucked in behind his right ear. Mesmerizing blue eyes that met hers across the way, pinching with concern. Amber skin, marred by two twin scars across his left cheek.

Sabine reeled. She felt light, lighter than air. Her nutcracker Jedi stood there before her, real and breathtaking. Surely he felt her elation, for the corners of his mouth twitched, confirming her recognition, that he knew she knew he was the one who had come to her rescue, held her hand, taken her on a such wonderful starlit journey.

Dropping her sketchbook and Ezra's miniature wooden replica she rushed forward, flinging herself into him, crashing her lips against his and kissing hard.

He yelped in surprise, jolting, and Ursa gave a scandalized and embarrassed, "Sabine!" behind her.

---

Sabine: *meets cute Jedi boy, immediately causes political incident*

How did Alrich manage to style his nutcracker almost exactly like Ezra? IDK, weird Force stuff or something, we're coasting mostly on Vibes here don't look at me for a logical explanation lol.

Thanks for reading!

[mercuryswonderland]

Hello, again ✨💚⚰️🩷

I wanted to post my first tcoaal fanfic ✨🩷 it's from January and i plan to write more!

Part 1 of my TALES FROM THE GRAVES series.

I hope you like it 😊 I'll leave the ao3 link as well: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53360599

Summary:

On a rainy day, Andrew Graves realized his new favorite thing is looking after a sick Ashley.

In sickness, in health

💚⚰️🩷✨💚⚰️🩷✨💚⚰️🩷✨💚⚰️🩷✨

It was raining heavily outside. Dark clouds obscuring the ever-gloomy dusky woods, as thick mist surrounded the trees. Andrew appreciated the view as he finished his last cigarette of the day.

Reminiscing in the horrible events from last week was oddly calming to him. Once he crossed that line of eliminating his own parents, he crossed yet another by offering them to a demon, consuming them and discarding the remains to the ocean. It was wrong, it was illegal. But it felt right. He felt lighter than he has ever felt before.

He felt free.

He was content when he managed to find an old wooden cabin, located not too far away from the village. Thankfully, the rent was actually affordable. So affordable in fact, he thought he was being scammed. Fortunately, the owner was a gentle old man, who happened to be in the mood to help two lost souls, wandering through these unforgiving hostile lands. It was odd the old man didn’t pry about their lives, nor did he ask many questions at all in fact. Which was good in his eyes. He could get used to the quiet life.

Though, it was calm. Way too calm.

That’s when he decided to search for the cause of his nightmares. The one who makes him do these unspeakable things. The one who makes him mad and black out with rage and more.

The one he loved most.

Ashley Graves. While beautiful, is a rollercoaster of influence that can’t be left alone for too long. Andrew knew that very well, though he appreciates every second he can get, alone.

He entered the small cabin, greeted by a familiar, comfortable warmth. The cabin had an old fireplace that was very much appreciated during the cold days of the frosty winter. The fresh scent of petrichor from outside and the warm, cozy living room, made him sleepy.

He searched for his one and only favorite set of pink eyes, and found her sitting on a chair, looking outside the window. She was frowning, and appeared lost in her own silly dark mind of thoughts. Thinking was rare for her, so that was something of a pleasant surprise. Ever since they ran away to this cabin, she had been using that brain of hers. A new hobby, perhaps. Though it came a little late, he’d say.

He decided to stop admiring her from the doorway, and slowly made his way toward her.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you, lately?” He inquired, tracing his index finger over her neck. He leaned over her, giving her the affection he had been more open about giving her now that they weren’t being constantly monitored anymore.

She slightly shivered by his light touch, and adjusted her posture, while looking at him.

“Oh, A-Andrew, hey. How are you?” She asked, shifting against him. “The weather is shit today, huh? But that’s fine, I guess.” She said with a bored tune and waved her head. Andrew noticed that she was beginning to waver, her head moving a little too easily from side to side, as if she couldn’t balance her head on her own shoulders. She was beginning to slump forward, which prompted him to reach out to catch her.

“Hey! Be careful.” He said, holding onto her. Ashley leaned back, her head falling onto his shoulder. She left it there. Wordlessly, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, and winced audibly at the heat he felt.

“Yep, you’re sick.” He declared. Though he didn’t stop holding her. “You definitely have a fever.” He helped her stand up, hearing a mumble here and there. Though what she said next, he couldn’t even muster the energy to be surprised about it.

“Heh, Are you calling your sister hot?” The insufferable little sister she was, asked with her usual smile. Though wavering because of her illness. All he did was sigh in return. “Well, thank you, I guess. Big brother~.” Ashley smiled weakly at him. Though she didn’t protest at all to his help. The combination of her teasing and her letting him take care of her like this only made him want to help her more.

Ever since they both saw that vision, he’s been noticing that she’s been trying to get closer to him, and get on his good side. Though, for anyone else that would be a task easier said than done. But by virtue of their shared blood, he’s been letting her attempts chip away at him little by little.

She sat on the ample bed as he covered her in blankets. Andrew took her temperature with the thermometer and asked what she was feeling.

“So, let me restate this again just so you get it through that sick skull of yours.” She muttered something back, probably some kind of weak insult. “You have a fever, headache, and a sore throat. Not to mention you’re absolutely feeling weak.”

He remembered from back then how he used to take care of Ashley when they were kids. While their parents worked, and while they didn’t take the time to pay much attention to them. Fortunately, he remembered what their mother taught him, about what basic medicine and precautions he should take if he ever got sick.

One of the very few rare occasions she ever showed an ounce of care…

Shaking the thought of their dead mother from his mind, he returned his attention to Ashley.

“Yep. It’s been a while since I got sick. Maybe the starvation screwed me up real bad. Am I going to die? I can’t die, you’ll wander around, looking for hussies!” Ashley spat her dramatical nonsense once more, as she saw Andrew deeply in sight and covering his face in slight irritation.

“Ashley, let’s not start with your shit right now. You’re sick, and the more I have to hear your mouth the greater chance you get me sick too. So here, take this medicine and stay here while I prepare you something.” The tone of his voice was frustrated, it helped masked the fact that he was really worried about her.

“Dumbass…” Ashley muttered, though she obeyed as he grabbed a pill from the cabinet and a cup of water, swallowed when he poured it in her mouth for her.

Satisfied with her cooperation, he went to the small kitchen and prepared something for them both. It was time for dinner, after all, and Ashley needed some food in her body now more than ever. He approached the counter and opened a recipe book. The same one he used at their parent's home. He chose to bring it, in case Ashley would get creative with her newfound taste in taboo meat. He thought he should be worried about these bizarre thoughts, but he was content in the fact that he didn’t care at all.

“This will do. Easy and fast.” He decided, settling on a recipe of soup. It will fill their stomach and it goes well on rainy days.

While he waited for the soup to be ready, he hummed an unknown melody, as his mind started wandering off.

👁️

*Years ago*

He was around ten years old, watching some cartoons on the TV, when he heard Leyley complaining in their shared room. He sighed and went to check on her. She was sitting on his bed, sniffing and hugging her precious green bunny plushie.

“What’s wrong, Leyley? You’re extra noisy today.” He sat with her and rubbed her back, affectionately.

“*sniffs* I’m dying, Andy!! I think my head is melting and I feel dizzy.” She complained loudly, and was as exaggerated and over dramatic as usual. Though even as she said that, she couldn’t help but hug him tightly.

He’s not surprised at all and returned the embrace, appreciating the sweet moment. He wasn’t sure if she had high fever, let alone if there was anything useful in their damned apartment, so he had no other option but to call their mother.

“Listen, Leyley. I’m going to call mom. You can stay in my bed if you want, I'll take care of you, okay?”. He saw her whipping her small tears and nodded, as she snuggled in his bed, cuddling her plushie.

He might or might not have felt jealous over a plushie…

Right?

He took the phone and dialed a phone number, mentally praying to whoever God or Demon that might’ve been listening, that their mom would answer. Thankfully, she did but he didn’t miss the sound of her exasperated sigh.

“What is it, Andrew? Is it her again?” Their mom’s coldness, as she referred to his sister as “her” instead of “Ashley” really showed how much - or rather how little - she cared for her.

“Hey, mom…can you bring some medicine afterwork?” Andy asked, with a hint of worry in his voice. “I think Leyley is sick, but I don't know what to do.”

His mother sighed and shook her head. Instantly finding doubt in his claim. “Are you sure she isn’t just putting on an act? That child always finds ways to waste my time.” She paused for a moment, leaving Andy’s resentment towards her own mother to grow each passing second.

“If she’s really sick, it’ll be a problem for me later. I’m certain I left some medicine secured on a white box, inside the bathroom’s cabinet. Take it and give her-”

Andy was taking notes of his mother’s instructions, making sure nothing escaped him, until she stopped explaining. She hated to repeat herself, so he only had the one chance to catch her advice.

“Then, I'll be getting back to work. I won’t be able to come home early, nor will your father. There’s something to prepare dinner in the fridge. You’re diligent and smart, so I’m sure you’ll figure out how to make something as easy as soup,right? it’s nothing to you.”

Andy said nothing, as the awkward silence filled the room, and his mother finished the call. “.....Take care, Andrew. I’m sorry.”

She always says sorry. Why does she even bother?

Ever since that day, Andy made sure to take good care of Leyley. Not wanting her to feel like she wasn’t worth being taken care of. It was the least she deserved for being his sister.

👁️

Andrew dozed off from his thoughts, almost feeling nostalgic. The smell of the soup made his stomach grumble as he hurried to serve two portions on the new bowls he and Ashley bought while shopping, a couple days ago. He set the freshly served soup on the tray and carefully walked to the room.

Ashley was waiting for him. He noticed her tired eyes focused on the tray and her face relaxed. He also noticed her body sightled gained weight. It was a good sign, telling him their days of starvation are in the past now.

“Beautiful.” He thought, as he carefully sat on the bed, next to her. He handed her the tray with her soup, as he took his to enjoy the meal.

“What took you so long? Were you daydreaming or something? My stomach screams and you leave poor Ashley all alone. Woe is me, I’m surrounded by deceivers!” Mocked Ashley, though it lacked the usual venom she could portray, likely thanks to the sore throat.

She was easier to deal with when she was sick and reliant on him, at least.

“Just eat the damn soup before it gets cold, Ashley. I made this for you.” Said Andrew, not in the mood to follow her complaints right now.

A comfortable aura surrounded them, as they enjoyed the sound of rain and the fireplace kept them warm. They started to eat.

Not even three minutes passed, as he looked at Ashley taking sipping her soup, (hoping she would like it), and saw as a single tear drop slipped down her porcelain face and a small smile appeared.

Another thing he found beautiful.

“What’s wrong, Ley- Ashley? Is the soup too hot?” He gently dried her tears and he cupped her face with his right hand.

“N-no, it’s just…. I just remembered one time I was pretty sick and you took care of me, exactly like this. With soup like this. Only you cared for me, when no one else did. Not even our fucking parents…. and yet, i still freak out of you leaving me behind, I’m…” She sniffled, unable to finish what she wanted to say.

Andrew thought the fever was making her emotional. He let the urge to kiss her forehead overtake his mind, despite her fever too. It calmed her down a little. But not enough, evidently, when she grabbed his collar to pull him and bury her face into his neck, muffling her sobs.

“I’m aware I've been spacing out lately, and I hate it as much as you but… after everything we’ve been through, I guess I'm starting to crumble. Ugh, this sucks. You’re the one supposed to be a soft gooey marshmallow.” She tried to lighten the mood with her mocking.

But only childish sobs could be heard.

“Ashley, for the thousandth time, I'm not going to leave you alone. I chose you. I care for you, more than any other being in this fucking planet. If i didn’t, i wouldn’t be trying to comfort you. Please, look at me.” He took her face with both hands and looked her deeply in her eyes. Forest green met sunset rose as if trying to communicate with their souls.

“T-then….can you kiss me?” She hesitantly asked.

“Kiss you… you want me to kiss you, on your lips?” He asked, as a slight blush tinted his face. “You really are sick aren’t you? Sick in the head…”

“Yes, Andrew. I want you to kiss me on the lips.” She said, not rising to his bait like she usually would. “Is that much to ask from your poor dying sister? Kiss me, I want it.” She said, slightly irritated he didn’t immediately accept her command. Perhaps Andy is really gone and Andrew’s was what's left.

A minute passed as he deeply sighed, thinking about his next move. In truth, he'd been considering the vision they both saw, but it wasn’t the time for that. Tonight, he wanted to take care of her.

And so he did.

Without thinking about the consequences for the moment, he closed the gap between them and kissed her gently. For him, who had kissed countless times, it was as easy as breathing, but he knew that for Ashley, it was far more special.

He let her savor the moment, as her trembling hands wrapped behind his neck and both closed their eyes. It was a simple, soft kiss, yet held sentimental value to them.

One step away from the vision.

At that moment, he didn’t think too much about it. He already crossed many lines.

Once separated, he saw Ashley, smiling as brightly as ever. He knows she can manipulate him easily. But for the first time in a while, he felt like he was doing it on his own will.

The devil spoke.

“Kiss me more. Give me more of you. Heal me.” She spoke in a sweet manner, as her pink eyes focused on him, forgetting the steaming soup on the bed.

Andrew indulged, embracing her and giving her a deeper kiss, this time filled with unspoken promises of something far more pleasant. She happily accepted everything from him, melting in his touch, as two starved animals.

A couple days later, Ashley was revitalized and full of energy!

Andrew, however…..might need another bowl of soup, as he got the cold for kissing Ashley, many, many times.

Oh well!

Fin(?) ✨

[rockwgooglyeyes]

yayayay potential nyx and asa reunion ! ( somersaults around the room before front flipping out of it )

Yeas!!! Wahoo!! Honestly this ask has made me think many thoughts which is. . . why it has taken me so long to get to it *wheezes in cry-laughter* If Nyx is 20 during the current Alien Stage season (39), he probably had Asahi when he was like 13-14? (I have been thinking about aging him up? but honestly. it wouldn't really be that much better if he was sixteen or seventeen). Most likely, she would be five or six years old . . . meaning that it hasn't been that long since they were separated. Which would be all the more heartrending in my opinion because she probably hasn't forgiven him, yet.

writing drabble underneath the read more!! (trigger warning for referenced death, gun violence, panic attacks, some implied SA)

Nyx didn't expect to be sent back to Anakt but he supposes there are stranger leaps in logic. At graduation, four years ago now, he thought to himself, "This will be the last time I ever set foot inside of these walls," and it was a freeing thought, a kind one he could tell himself over and over, to soothe the parts of him that woke up during the dark of the night and screamed.

He'd been wrong; here he is, standing amidst artificial grasses, staring up at a digital blue sky that flickers and spits if you look at it long enough. He'd been wrong; Rosca is breathing, alive. He doesn't know how he messed that up, blinked and missed it, but maybe it was all the blood, the gunshots, and the way that Vera drew his focus off of the stage. He hasn't seen Vera since that day, before Round 13, where Jae remained standing on the stage with dead, dead eyes and Vii was shot dead, a new corpse on the floor. Vera is on the run, now, officially. She told him that she only did it on her owner's orders and in a horrible, twisted way, it made sense. Why else would she kill the one she loved, the one whose heartbeat was the same as hers? Ellie may not have loved Vera back but that was no reason to kill her. Not a reason for Vera, anyways.

Back underneath the flickering sky, surrounded by the whisper of false wind and sticky grass, Nyx finds himself going a little bit stir-crazy. Maybe it's that he's back in what he could call his childhood home, having spent more time here than he did with his first owner, even, or maybe it's the fact that he knows his baby girl is in the class set to graduate next. After all, Cas saw Cinnabar and dragged Nyx away, sobbing into Nyx's shoulder in a hallway while on stage, Cinnabar sang. Cas got in trouble for disappearing, too. They both knew it was worth it. Cas would've been in worse shape if he'd been there to hear Cinnabar's voice echo through the room, her name branded into his mind as whatever lyrics went in one ear and out the other. He wouldn't have even been listening and he would've been asked to comment and critique? Knowing that was his biological daughter? Well. It would've probably gone to pot right then and there.

Nyx didn't tell Cas that he was almost excited to see his daughter.

She should be what, five winters old, now? Six? Nyx has always measured her age in winters, rather than summers, because she was born in November. At least, he thinks she was.

Rubbing at his head, he lets out a sigh and walks into the shade of a nearby tree. His memory has been getting worse, lately, with all of the stress around the competition and Oryon getting what performances they can out of him before he dies in his round. He's thrust into the center stage from his dimly-lit lounges and small, intimate stages. He'd never been popular like Oryon's other pets, not in the same way, not loud enough, not bright and peppy enough, Oryon could get Nyx to act a certain way but he couldn't ever get Nyx to act that way with genuine emotion behind his eyes, a beautiful mask on his face. Nyx would play the part but he wouldn't pretend as though he was happy to be there and Oryon had yet to find a way to make him do that. He could simper all Oryon wanted, crawl onto someone's lap, trail a finger down the side of their face and whisper sweet nothings in their ear, but Oryon couldn't make him mean it.

No one could make him mean it.

It's later that day that he finds his daughter laying back in a field of flowers, staring up at the clouds moving in their set patterns in the digitized sky. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that they're not real.

"Asahi?" He says, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much. He's never been good at approaching people but how else is he supposed to do this? He doesn't think she'll want to talk to him, not unless he walks up to her and asks her to. She wasn't exactly a timid kid but she was quiet, solitary, like he'd been before the attack. Her pink-gold irises flicker to him and her eyes widen. Her hair's been straightened, he realizes absently. Before, it had curled in a mess of cowlicks. Even if it made the space behind his eyes burn a little bit, he swallows down the tears. They have no place here, after all. She looks at him for a long moment before her eyes get glassy, big tears starting to roll down her round cheeks.

"Papa?" She asks, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"Yes, my sunrise, it's me," he answers. She sits for another moment before standing and clinging to his legs, crying into his stomach. He runs his fingers through her hair, bending over to give the impression that he's hugging her back because he can't actually, she's holding on too tightly and she's less than half his height. "Oh, baby, I missed you," he tells her, wishing that he could press a kiss to her hair. She wails louder, something he didn't really think possible, and he decides to just bite the bullet, scooping her up into his arms. She presses her face into his neck and he doesn't really know how long she hiccups into his ear but he can lean his cheek on the top of her head and listen to the warbling sound of her breathing, which is all he needed.

(ocs mentioned are Rosca (@sotogalmo), Vera (@bittersweet-adagio), Jae (@kofeedoggo), Vii (@starry-skiez) and Cas (@lookatmysillies). Otherwise, Cinnabar belongs to you, Apri, as does Asahi!)

[kotamagic]

Mid-season finale is here and another hiatus is kicking in for Lore Olympus. Gahdamn.....what a doozy...

Let's start with Kassandra's prophesy. Psyche & Eros got it out of her with....a magic pink candle?.... and realized Apollo's plan to poison Zeus. They reach out to Zeus as fast as they can, but are they in time?

This bit here may seem a bit thrown in edge-wise, but it is something that Hades should know since they have been on/off dealing with the Kronos problem.

It's also good to see that they are still communicating with one another. They've had hiccups, to be sure, especially with Zeus giving birth to Dionysos, but Zeus isn't forcing secrecy here, so Persephone can be open about what's going on with Hera.

It's the ceremony on the eve of spring. Persephone is here to do her thing while Demeter & Hades look on. At first, there's an uncomfortable silence between them, and then Hades does this.

Despite all the animosity between them, Hades offers an olive branch. I mean, it's in the form of volcanoes, but you get the idea.

So the reason Hades resisted giving up the volcanoes is because they were a gift from his mom. Since volcanoes start underground (in the Underworld, one might say) and reach into the Mortal plain, it was a connection Hades was reluctant to give up.

Maybe, in an odd way, by offering this "connection" Hades is asking that they actively work to improve their relationship together. Just a theory.

Can I just say that Persephone looks lovely, yet sad here?

Something has gone horribly wrong! It's supposed to be spring, yet there's snow on the ground!

Also of note, the leaves in Persephone's hair look faded or frosted. They are usually vibrant green, but that's not the case here.

Oh shit! The God that Apollo has been talking to has been guiding him to usurp Zeus. Apollo extracted the needed prophesy from Kassandra. He got the herb...

....and gave it to Zeus. Eros and Psyche were too late. With help, Apollo seems to be taking over Olympus, and stealing Persephone's powers if the return of winter is any indication.

And who do we have to actively thank for Apollo's success?

Ouranos. Not grandpa Kronos, but great-grandpa Ouranos. This is going to end poorly......

And with that cliffhanger, Lore Olympus goes on hiatus again......

Anyway, thanks for coming to my LO post!

[artilespema]

(Some of the words are bad written because English is not my first language and I had to use Google translate)

Since I can't post the fully chapters here because for some reason Tumblr keeps cutting them

The full story will be in Ao3

Here's chapter 1

The boy at the station

"..."

The boy remained silent... He didn't say anything, he was sitting on the bench at the bus station, with his hoodie covering his head from the rain... It was a winter night in a new city, Ticci Toby He was waiting for a bus to go to his next stop, where a future victim was waiting for him.

'Damn it, the bus isn't coming' he thought, because the poor guy had stayed on foot, maybe if he hadn't bothered Masky so much, now he himself would be meeting with them and not waiting for a stupid bus.

The 534 arrived, but that bus wasn't... none of them were... How frustrating, he saw people coming and going from bus to bus, none of them even bothered to look at his face, none of them even bothered to say a simple word. ; "good night."

While he was being absorbed in his thoughts, suddenly someone bumped into him, it was so sudden, but it was a girl who was in a hurry, she accidentally fell on him, making him fall too, she was holding some papers... Maybe she was late from school

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" She said panicking, quickly helping Toby up "I'm so sorry Sir!" She said. Her voice was fast and tired. She had clearly run here.

'Sir? Do I have the face of a Sir?' Toby frowned a little, He wasn't a gentleman... Or well, that's what I thought. In his mind he was still that young man who joined the tall faceless man years ago.

The boy remained silent even after being hit, the girl saw that he had a serious look on his face, but he did not show any signs of anger.

"...Okay, okay." It was the only thing he said in her voice, his tone was a little monotone, but he had some kindness in it.

The girl began to pick up the things that had fallen from her, she did not look at his face, but then, she picked up his muzzle and then handed it to him... Seeing his face and his gaping mouth which was horrible, showing his teeth and gums... Usually people would have been scared by that... But the girl didn't even flinch "Here you go, I think it's yours...?" The young woman said as she handed him the mask.

As she looked at him he could see her face, she was young, that was for sure, she had brown eyes, a button-shaped nose, red heart-shaped lips, her nose was a little red, clearly from the cold of the night

Just seeing her made him feel warm…

He grabs his mask and covers his mouth with it again, her beauty immediately caught his interest...he noticed that she had red cheeks and a button-shaped nose, and who had very red lips. He immediately fell in love with her, found her very cute and she was the first person who didn't act terrified around him...

-Thank you.- The boy said, his voice sounded calm and monotonous, while he stared at her.

Ticcy Toby had just found his new obsession.

And what for him was 'Eureka'... For her it was going to become her misery

But let's not get ahead of ourselves... okay?

"Uhm... Excuse me, do you know if the bus to the central station has yet to arrive or if it has already passed?" She asks him quietly as she puts the papers in her ring binder.

"It hasn't happened yet" he replied, his voice and tone were a little different this time, and not to mention that this time he was smiling, although she couldn't see it thanks to his muzzle, but his smile showed its teeth and his scars. He looked at her with curiosity and wonder, he felt comfortable with her for some reason.

"Oh that's good..." She said as she sighs in relief "I have to take it... It's my last bus, you know...?" she said laughing to herself, she was doing it all herself now... Being so... Social? With him? Toby usually doesn't know someone so sociable or maybe he doesn't pay attention to many people at all, usually just to kill them... But she was a bit talkative, which made him feel warm, no one ever bothered to stop and talk to him so much, not when they saw his tics... They usually saw him as a crazy guy on the corner... Which wasn't completely incorrect.

Toby realized that she hadn't even introduced herself properly, so he wanted to ask her what her name was, but then for some reason he felt a little shy about it, probably because he hadn't talked so much to another person before. But the feeling of knowing about her was more and more intense, he needed to know who she was.

"Your name?" he asked as he looked into her eyes.

She paused for a second before letting out a small gasp. "Oh, right! How rude of me..." she said, he could quickly guess that she was a rather nice and warm girl, quite energetic... But It was a normal thing for extroverted people. "I'm Aura Maria." She said raising her hand for a handshake... She wasn't afraid of touching a strange looking stranger at all it seemed.

Most people would have found it quite strange to touch him, he took her hand and shook it, he tried to keep calm and his emotions under control, but looking at her made them go out of control.

"Toby... My name is Toby" he said a little nervously, as he felt his heartbeat speed up and the sensation of his throat getting dry.

'What's the matter? She is a Girl, not something extraordinary. You kill people, there's no point in being nervous. This is shameful. Calm down now Tobias.' His brain scolded him

'But she's a pretty girl, she's nice, what am I going to eat? Wait what?' He got off topic.

"Oh-!" she said, well his handshake was quite strong "Heh, you have a strong grip" she jokes a little "anyway... Toby hmm? that's a cute name..." she says... Then she looks at around, she still held some papers and a folder in her hands, she also had a white backpack on her back, she was probably heading home.

"Well, your name sounds really nice too... T-Those letters and that backpack are school things?" he asked, still trying to stay calm and not let his nerves take control of his mind. He really wanted to know more... To talk to her, but he had to act calmly so as not to scare her.

She looks at him and nods with a small moan of boredom. “Ah- yeah… You know, boring stuff.”

"I have to bring this all the time and it's horrible since I live three hours from my school" she says rolling her eyes, she didn't really care about telling her problems to someone she just met fifteen minutes ago.

"Three hours?" he says he... he was surprised by this "I guess from this that you live quite far away... No?" He said in a soft tone, he just wanted to talk to her more just to stay with her, maybe try to hold her hand while they talked. But he didn't...he was becoming more and more obsessed with her, she was adorable, cute and charming, all the feelings of love, desire, obsession and adoration ran through his body every time he looked at her.

"Yes, I live in the suburbs..." she said as she let out another sigh. "There aren't that many schools there, so I have to travel quite a bit."

"That must be exhausting."

"How about you?"

"Well..." he looked at her for a moment before answering "I live pretty far from the bus station... A good 30 miles... I'm usually home, which is why I haven't really gone that far..."

"Oh, that's good...and what school are you in?" she asks innocently, thinking that he's probably her age or something.

Her eyes darted away from her, he didn't want to lie to her but he also didn't want to give her his personal information... After all she was quite sincere "I don't really go to school... I'm 21, you know." He Said

Her eyebrows raise. “Really?!” she said surprised "Hah, you look younger! I thought you were 19 or something well, you're lucky, you don't have to worry about this" she said referring to school.

"Yes..." he said a little awkwardly, his expression was shy as he looked at her again, his heart was beating so fast, he felt extremely nervous and shy around her, something he had never seen before. sense. "Um...do you mind if I ask about your age? I wonder how old you are to go home alone after school" he finally asked, something he wanted to ask since before but she stopped himself.

'You don't ask ladies how old they are' is something his mother would say.

"I'm eighteen" Aura María answered

Toby raised his eyebrows, she was quite young compared to him, a slight age difference... But he didn't really care at this point, she was cute and charming, and he really liked her so... He looked at her. for a few seconds, and said calmly while looking into her eyes "You're young..."

"Hehe, yeah, we're four years apart, huh?" She said as she sat on the bench, she was feeling a little tired, after all she ran to the station only for the bus to be late.

It was true that the age difference was a little big, but at least she was technically a legal adult.

Toby watched her sit up, the expression on her face was really soft and kind, he was looking at her with a little blush on her cheeks that luckily was covered by his muzzle. He was enjoying her conversation, it was really different from him when he normally talked to someone. When she sat on the bench and he looked at her, he wanted to do the same but got shy. "Can I sit with you?" The young proxy asked

Aura María let out a small laugh. "No," she said, but it was obvious that she was playing with him. "Of course you can, it's a public bench." She moved to one side of her to make room for him.

The sudden response amused him a little, he understood that she was joking, but for a few seconds he seriously thought that she would not let him sit with her until she made room for him. His face was all red and little tics were present, he couldn't believe he was approaching her like that "Thank you" he said, he sat close to her, his body language was that of someone shy, although usually he was someone confident, manipulative and really annoying (Masky's words).

"Ugh... this damn bus is always late..." Aura María sighs "Ha. Just wait until I get a car and I'll say hello to those motherf- I mean" she stops cursing the moment she remembers that She's not alone, she turns to look at him a little embarrassed "heh- I'm sorry."

Toby noticed how quickly she turned red and that she was trying to hold back her bad words... It was really funny, she was trying to be polite in front of him. He chuckled "It's okay" he said with a shrug.

She laughs embarrassedly before looking away, trying to see if the bus was coming, her gaze wanders to some posters on the bulletin boards "Oh... Look at that..." she said with a bit of sadness "Another murder ..." she says while reading the news ad... If only she knew she was sitting next to the person who committed those crimes

He also read the announcement about the murder for a few seconds.... The thought of what her reaction would be if she knew that he was a serial killer was something that occurred to him.

he looked at the crime photo better and sighed in relief.

The signature was "Go to Sleep" Jeff's signature phrase, at least this corpse wasn't on him... As if that made it better

"You know, my father is on that case" She said

'Oh fuck' was the phrase that reached his brain the fastest. Was her father a police officer? Oh.

Toby's mouth was open for a second and his eyes were the same. "...Is your father a police officer?" He asked immediately, his look still one of surprise... Upon realizing who her father was he knew that he had to be careful with this girl, if he revealed the truth to her, she could easily run away or, worse yet, turn him over to the police. ..but he wanted to talk to her even more... He just decided he was going to be careful.

"Heh, yeah... Although this is his last case, he's retiring next week... but he really hopes to find the killer before he does" she said and shrugged her shoulders "I really don't think they'll find the killer so soon... But... You know what? It's important to him and I try to support him" she said while swinging her feet back and forth gently

"I hope so too..." he said, still acting like he cared about all this... "It must be hard for him... to retire as a police officer without finishing his job..."

"Yeah...he really loves his work...Oh look!" She said as she gets up and picks up her things, the bus arrived.

"Finally...the bus is here..." He also stood up, walked towards the bus with her, they both got on the bus together

"Come sit with me," she offered kindly, as she chose a spot near the window and patted the seat.

Toby's eyes flashed with excitement and he quickly nodded, sitting down next to her.

After the bus started moving, Aura Maria did most of the talking, she was a very chatty person but nothing that Toby could hate... At least someone was talking, and it was a good way to avoid the awkward silence.

"Oh, look, do you like them?..." she said taking a sketchbook, it was a thick and chubby sketchbook, it had a lot of papers and stickers... Each page was full of colors and sketches.

Toby looked at his drawings... He was surprised, they looked amazing! He noticed the use of colors, the designs, and the way everything was drawn... He was looking at her artwork, looking at every part of it... He was amazed at how good her drawings were.. Maybe they weren't anything out of this world but the only one who could sincerely criticize her would be Bloody Painter.

"You are very good... Artist" he said finally after reviewing almost all the pages. When he finished he closed the book gently, he didn't want to damage it in any way.

“Heh, thanks…” she said, putting the notebook away again.

After a while in silence Toby felt something on his shoulder, Aura María had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Toby remained silent and looked at her... he came a little closer, smelling her perfume... his hand traveled to his pocket and took out a small blade, he brought it to the young woman's hair and cut a lock of hair, a small memory of the beautiful lady. .

Then he put the lock in his pocket. After a few hours the bus arrived at the final destination.

“Hey… we're here” He said as he moved her slowly.

Aura María opened her eyes and looked at him "Oh! Wow... God, how late it is" she said as she picked up her things and got off the bus "Well, thank goodness he's here haha..." she said while then turning to look at him "It was a pleasure to meet you, Toby" she smiled "I hope to see you again another day" she said and then approached him, she gave him a kiss on the cheeks to Say bye, not because of anything special, just a habit.

Toby stood still at that... And his eyes stayed fixed on her as he watched her walk away from her into the night, he smiled under his muzzle.

"See you..." he whispered as he removed his muzzle and touched his cheeks.

He stood still for a long time until he heard someone talking to him.

"Tobias." A masculine voice spoke loudly and suddenly causing the young Proxy to let out a not so masculine scream.

Toby turned to see who it was, none other than Masky and next to him Hoodie who simply remained silent.

" what?" Toby spoke as he put his hands in his pockets, he had a wide smile, almost imitating Smile Dog.

The other two Proxies looked at each other and then at him. "What's with that stupid smile?" Masky asked, Toby shrugged letting out a chuckle then walked into the forest with them.

As they walked, the young man finally spoke, "It's nice to be in love, right, guys?"

The two Proxies stopped and looked at each other again, silent.

Ticci Toby had fallen in love.

End chapter 1

[itsprobablybetteroffthatway]

My mental health has been not so good lately!! I’ve been dealing with processing some childhood trauma and coming to terms with its role it plays in my life. And with the pummeling one major world event one after another: the next steps in multiple genocides, devastating hurricane, then another one, record breaking heat waves, flooding in the Sahara, videos of Palestinians being brutally murdered on our very screens. It’s all too much. I lay awake at night thinking about it all.

And then the Palestinians that are reaching out to us on tumblr. Because it is their last resort, their last hope. It’s chilling. I am frozen in my tracks. I can’t make consistent donations as my work has been very very slow. Paying rent the past month was terrifying, I barely scraped it together. The shame I feel that not only am I having a hard time taking care of myself, all I can do for them is answer the messages, pass the links along in hopes that someone else can send money is astounding. I feel like I’ve stopped living my life. I don’t feel human. I go to work (when I have appointments scheduled), come home, try to eat, and just stare at my phone screen at the unfolding man made horrors beyond my wildest fears for hours.

But I am lucky. I have family in my area, I have a boss and a manager that are working with me to bring more people to my schedule. I have a partner that I plan to move in with by late winter/early spring of next year, which will cut a lot of my bills in half or at least by a third. I have clients that love my work and try their hardest to come see me at least once a month. I have loved ones that care about me and will want to help me if I were to ask.

So I need to figure out how to survive the next winter months, more mentally than anything. I just need to find the balance of caring and doing the work to help people, and taking care of myself and living. Because the world hasn’t ended yet. It’s horrible and awful and also it’s still here. I’m still here.

[wintersoldeer]

ok i wasn't going to make a post but i do have feelings about until dawn remake that didn't fit under the tags of one reblog

im 15 mins in someone's playtrough of the remake and im still not too impressed BUT ohh my god they changed my least favourite line ("wHeRe's mY SiSTer GoInG?") and i might just have to forgive them everything for that

other than that so far: the people look terrible (like the graphics look nice, but as people...... they don't look like themselves to me.... also. very dark – i cant see anything but that might just be the streamer's settings idk) the longer intro is sooo awkward without any new dialogue. might be the streamer mode with no music tho idk. but goddamn i don't agree with sam's new role in the prank or see why they changed note (i've always thought it was wild that hannah would just start by taking her shirt of, but now it's just.... why exactly does she??) and i miss the fixed camera but that might be just because im not playing im just watching sucks to be chris in the morning with all that on his face...... not the situation where you want to look like that

ok i'll keep watching and liveblog

it is so dark that if i hadn't seen this game being played about 39204932 times before, i wouldn't have any idea what's going on::'D i love the snow falling from the frees tho no subtlety with the fire here i see ::'D

they made the creepy scarecrow postcard look downright pleasant?? it's so darrrrk/there's so much contrast you can't even tell if dr hill's office has cool things on the background

ok i am very into the new intro

sam on the bus looks so good.... but something is off with josh's video?? the movement?? the face?? something???

still no clarification on whether josh wants to party like they are fucking porn stars or party like they're fucking porn stars

did they move this game from february to like april since the sun is still out in the beginning?? they also made the time earlier but im pretty sure that's still a couple of hours too late..... and i take my winter darkness very seriously (but like. the nice atmospheric dark of the original) it's very pretty tho

it feels very.... video game-y now. with the new graphics and especially with the moving camere.

interesting that jess is now mike's girlfriend instead of mike's new girlfriend, an em is now matt's girlfriend instead of mike's ex and same with mike and matt

oh noo the snow ball fight without music is horrible:::'D

oh nooo the sun is finally and very quickly setting i can't seeee anything

doctor hill has a swedish flag on his desk 😂😂

i am not a gamer. but. is the hunting around for a premonition on a totem.... fun? seems like a frustrating waste of time

ok i am an hour and twenty minutes in (chris wandering around the lodge) and i'm seriously considering on just giving up and watching another (third.. this week..) original game let's play instead. mainly because it's so damn dark that it's not pleasant to look at. the flashlight (or lighter or torch or whatever) is for pointing out glinting things, it's not supposed to be the only light source! one of the things that keeps drawing me back to this game year after year is how pretty and atmospheric it is, and the remake... is not delivering.

but at least they don't leave the window upstairs open anymore! that has been bothering me for years

ok i cant do this i give up!! i'd like to continue bc the streamer seems cool, but iii cannot see anything. i'll skip through some random scenes and mourn what could've been and maybe watch another let's play of the original... there might be one or two on the internet that i haven't yet seen

like look at this!! who is that?? where is he??? i wouldn't know

[writingjoycebyers]

Could you write a Jopper wedding ficlet? :)

This has been in my drafts for ages. It has nothing to do with ST4. But well… here you go.

Iam pretty sure this is not what you had been thinking of when you requested this, anon. It‘s my first go at writing after months! This is highly inspired by Little Women and Jo March. It is absolutely (!) AU. This ask has been in my inbox the longest and I literally could never ever imagine a jopper wedding somehow. But … here you go. I‘d appreciate some reactions as a welcome back for me. 📫

______________________________

Oh, Jimmy boy.

A Joyce Byers one shot based on Little Women and Stranger Things

Joyce Horowitz was only 12 years old when the old, forgotten house next to her home was suddenly not so empty anymore. She sat on the windowsill with her sisters, fighting for the best spot to watch the new neighbors move in . Abigail was, at six years old, still too short at this point to even see through the window without climbing onto a chair, so she was no real danger, but Joyce‘s sister Beatrice was only two years younger than her, which made her the perfect height to push her elbow into Joyce‘s side to make space for herself on the windowsill. Madeline, the oldest Horowitz sister, was 15 years old at that point and pretended to be too mature to care about some new kids moving in next door. If she‘d been honest, she would have loved to sit by the window too. Joyce kept her eyes locked on the family walking into the house, carrying boxes and bags. A mother - tall and blonde, a father - even taller and a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, Joyce could not tell. His clothes looked a bit too large, his hair - blonde and shiny - a bit too long. He could need a cut, Joyce thought, resembling words her mother usually said whenever Joyce’s dark waves would become undetangable again. Her cheeks would heat up seeing the boy through the window the next few days although snow was piling up outside. Although Hawkins had become a cold place this winter. Her cheeks would heat up like the fire burning in their fireplace, as if she was in a fever even though she did not even know the new family. It must be that she always had been nosy. You could not feel a connection to someone you did not even know yet, right?

It was her 13th birthday, just about a year later, when she could not imagine life without the boy next door anymore. James Hopper had become her best friend - from building snowmen to roaming the woods in the summer - they had not left each other’s side ever since that one day a month after he had moved in.

A cold night one winter day, Hawkins had been taken over by a horrible snow storm and suddenly - although nobody was to leave their houses - there was a knock on the Horowitz‘s front door.

„My goodness.“, Joyce heard her mother say a few seconds after she had opened the front door.

A low voice answered. „I am sorry to disturb, Madame. But my parents have left the country to visit my aunt and our roof‘s been lacking all night.“

„Oh, Jimmy, Boy. Come in.“, Joyce’s mother said as all four Horowitz girls stuck their noses through the living room door into the hallway. It was the neighbour’s boy. Abby let out a surprised „What’s he doing here?“, while Madeline shrunk her shoulders, getting back to the living room totally unimpressed. Beatrice coughed again. She was too weak to say anything, the cold weather had never been something for her. Their reactions left Joyce by the door, her head visible between the doorframe as she gave the freezing boy in the hallway a soft smile.

„Hello.“, she whispered.

„Hello.“, he whispered back. „You’re the window girl.“, he said and his words made her cheeks burn in a fever of embarrassment.

„I’m Joyce.“, she added sheepishly.

„Jimmy.“

—————

When Joyce was sixteen, Jimmy became Jim.

„Come on, Jimmy, or we are gonna be late for school.“, she yelled over, very unladylike, as she waited on the little path in front of his house for him to come out.

Two minutes later he stood in front of her, still buttoning up his shirt. „Don’t call me that, Joy.“

„But it’s your name.“

„Not anymore, Joyce, I am sixteen, look.“, he said, taking her hand for her to touch his shoulders. „I’ve been doing push ups.“

_________

Joyce was nineteen, some time had passed after high school, when Jim told her he had to leave. The last three years had passed by in a rush, and whenever Joyce and Jim watched each other’s reflection down by the lake they’d spend their summer at, they would not find any resemblance to the boy and girl they had been when Jim had started doing push ups.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?”, Joyce scoffed as if it was just a stupid joke. They were laying next to each other on the ground by the banks of the lake.

"Police training, the city, a job.", he summed up his situation. He did not look at her but the sky above them. There was a mosquito humming next to his ear.

"Yeah, alright, I see.", was all Joyce could mumble as the lump in her throat got bigger and summer came to an end.

_______________

Joyce was twenty-one when Jim Hopper returned for good.

“What’s that, stupid?”, she laughed as he stood in front of her with a small bouquet of wild flowers. He had phoned her that he’d be back in town and she had agreed when he had suggested to meet up where Hawkins town bordered the woods, right behind her parents’ house. He must have thought she did still live with them.

“Flowers.”, he replied although it was obvious.

When Joyce got closer she realized he was sweating, maybe even shaking a bit.

“Look Joyce, I don’t wanna lose any more time. Don’t say nothing. Just take the damn flowers.”, he started his speech.

Joyce took them, leaning against an old fence that had once protected her granddad’s horses.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore. Two years of letters. Two years of pretending. Joyce, no fucking day went by in the city that I did not think of you. God, what am I saying. Not a day since I moved into that stupid old house with my parents. Joyce - do you wanna be my wife?”, he blurted out and it was obvious that this had been what he needed. His shoulders sank down, a breath left his lungs.

Joyce stared at him, moments passed, seconds or minutes, she did not know. “Hop.”, she replied and her voice was low, powerless. “I’m with someone else. I’m with…”

“Don’t tell me. I’ll find out soon enough.”, he said. Without another word, he turned around and left.

Jim Hopper had moved in next to Joyce’s house at age 12, a hopeful boy and now, at 21, he was a beaten man. Joyce never saw him again in town after that, only heard of his return to the city, of his life as a police officer. Slowly, Jim became a memory.

Jim Hopper was fourty-one when he looked at Joyce Byers as if she was completely insane, but somehow had the feeling that she wasn’t. Somehow she reminded him of the Joyce he had known, the fiercest of four sisters, having a mind of her own and a million feelings burning inside of her.

“He’s not dead. Will, he’s somewhere out there, I’m sure, Hop.”, she insisted.

“Okay.”, was all he could say as he, to his surprise sent a quick prayer up to heaven that she was right. Joyce Byers nodded and all he could see was the woman he had loved, the woman he’d been to late for, the once fierce girl a broken woman.

_____________

“May I ask you again?”, he said as they sat on the porch. Inside the house El and Will were fighting over some snacks while preparing dinner. Jim and Joyce watched Jonathan play with his kid in the distance. Years had gone by, but Jim still smoked his cigarette the same way and Joyce’s hand was still a bit shaky whenever he lit her a smoke, too.

“If you’d be my wife.”, he said with a smile.

______________

Jim and Joyce got married in a fever, long after his desperate proposal by the green meadows outside Hawkins. Her dress was not white, his suit was a little too big. Jim and Joyce got married in a small chapel on the outskirts of town, with nobody present but the priest. Neither of them was religious, but it felt divine to put a small, silver ring on each other‘s finger. Jim and Joyce got married when Joyce was fifty-five.

———-

Bonus: