#tis a winter fairy

[oooocleo]

it’s tradition at this point to spend New Years night drawing ✍️

[allthingsscented]

Winter/Holiday/Christmas Candle Collection ☃️

My favorites are:

1) Pink Fairy Gumdrop

2) Tis the Season

3) Hot Cocoa & Cream

[lexaprolexicon]

These lights make me very happy ✨️

[thelastofhyde]

a mercenary named time.

pairing. jackson!joel x fem!reader

synopsis. as joel begins to age, memories of sarah are beginning to fade. though he wants nothing more than to talk to you about his troubles, there's something standing in his way: he never told you about sarah.

warnings. this is more joel x sarah centric than joel x reader oops, hurt/comfort, ageing + difficulties that come with it, grief, mentions of death/religion/afterlife+ generally other sensitive topics, fluff, does this count as whump? (v minimum editing/proofreading)

word count. 4.9k

hyde’s input. wrote this as an attempt to distract myself from the fact i was on a plane (i hate flying). not much happens plot wise, and it just becomes me analyzing joel (in my own way) halfway through but hey, i wrote it and, though it's nowhere near perfect, i'm gonna post it!

due to the ties tlou has with zionism, here are helpful posts/links regarding the ongoing genocide in palestine. from the river to the sea. ( post, link, post )

Aging has become a threat again.

A part of him wonders if the threat ever truly left, or if it simply migrated south of his brain, chasing a warmth only leisure possesses, to make way for a survivalist winter’s cold. With the safety of walls and the sanctity of the commune, at last he’s caught on to the passing of time, the slow-crawling spider who spun its web into his skin. 

During the cold, there'd only been movement. Pacing down streets divided by those who live in fear and those who brandish riot gear, and tip-toeing past fungal-faced mutations, and stumbling in a daze of pain through snow to find her. A safety distance of unmarked miles, away from that hospital, is what it took for him to finally pull over, cut the engine and exhale. Out with the panic, and the urgency, and the fear. Ellie was there, laid across the back seats, a paper gown as blue as any April sky, a cursed relic upon her sleeping form, terrorising him with images of what could’ve been, had he failed to save her too.

In the warmth, there’s tranquillity. Stretched out legs upon worn out sofas, quiet hums of forgotten tunes on rescued guitars, tangled limbs on love-stained sheets. A home, a daughter, and a you, whatever you may be. A fallen angel, a summer fairy, a ray of sun. Any form you come from, he accepts it, welcomes it. Thanks it for bringing you to him, smelling fresh as a daisy, riding up next to him on his first patrol, smiling as sweet as the honey he’d eaten with his breakfast when you asked him if he needed help reigning in his horse.

No, he’d grunted more than spoken to you. And wound up flung off its back, ten paces later. From the ground staring up, he’d watched your face appear above him. Bitten back laughter, a stretched out hand, and a question of if he wanted to swap rides, take your mare for the day.

She’s far friendlier, you’d assured him, after he let you think it was your strength that pulled him back to his feet. Takes to strangers a little easier than him, you’ll be safe.

And he’d believed it, against his own nature.

Tommy had been the one to notice, to nudge him hours later and nod his head in your direction. Real sweetheart, ain’t she? Joel’d said nothing. Shrugged his shoulders, dipped his head, sipped the whiskey out his cup. Tracked your movement across the room like a hunter stalks its prey. Or, maybe, it was more like a bee examining a flower, wondering if the pretty vibrance of your outsides carried a match to your insides, if the taste of your soft petals was a great enough sweetness to satisfy a craving he’d long foregone.

Four months of observing later, spring came and he stung.

Since then, you’ve been his, whatever that may mean anymore.

He’d already been yours.

And yet he finds himself unable to tell you of his recent trouble, the emerging signs of his age that the needle of time has begun to stitch into his seams.

The greys that curl upon his head grow more frequent. Blink, and they seem to double. His skin stretches differently than before, at times it feels he wears it more than owns it. There’s aches, and pains, and cracks from his joints, where before there’d been numbness and tiredness. A back that refuses to straighten like it used to, no matter how hard he stretches under the fleeting warm drops of his morning shower.

A guilty conscience whispers in a voice much like Tess’, a memory of her telling him ageing means he’s still here, even if she’s not. It’s harder to find the good in it, anymore, when he has so much to lose again.

It’s his memory that scares him most. Like a photo album, the images within seem to fade with time and, the more he grabs at them, the more they wear away.

It started with something small. Forgetting you’d told him you would be heading over to visit Maria and the baby after your patrol shift, leading his heart to near beat out his chest as he raced down to the stables like some crazed man, rambling about how something’s happened to you, you’re not back, only for some kid- Jessie, a friend of Ellie’s- to tell him you came back hours ago. He’d pulled you a little tighter against him that night as you crawled into bed, the earlier unnecessary fear a little too visceral in his racing heart.

Then, it happened more often.

Ellie asked him to help her clean out the garage space for her, he forgot and agreed to cover someone’s turn cleaning the stables.

You told him of your love of mint tea, and instead he found you green.

Tommy asked him across the dinner table- a double date, a cause to debut Ellie’s first solo babysitting duties- if he remembered the name of that old bar they’d liked, and his mind was blank. Empty.

All of it, inconvenient. Yet he could brush it off, let it affect him only like a bruise: momentarily, till it faded.

Until recently.

Until the memories of her began to fade.

He’d woken up one morning, earlier than you like always. Kissed your sleeping face, creeped down the creaking staircase, switched on the stove to boil some coffee. And realised he could no longer remember what she’d liked better: pancakes or waffles.

A few weeks later, he tried recalling what shade of blue her soccer team’s kit was. Was it light blue? Or a darker blue, like fresh denim? Was it even blue at all?

Ellie asked him, the caution she used to bring towards mentioning her name long gone with the changing of seasons, if she’d liked any comic books. The sound of a runner, itching and twitching behind some fence interrupted before she could notice he didn’t have an answer.

Sure, she read. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught her curled up in bed, the light of her torch illuminating more than just the pages of a book, but her face, too expressive for her own good at times, reacting to each twist and turn of the story. Sometimes, he’d stand in that doorway, unnoticed, till her eyes dropped shut and the light rolled out her hand. Other times, he’d clear his throat, catch her off guard, and tell her get to bed, kiddo, or I’ll tell Mrs. Atkinson you’ll be round after school tomorrow.

What use is it, however, remembering all that, if he can’t remember if she liked comics?

He should talk to someone about it, he knows. He’d tried to, at first. Had tried to drink the courage into him, sat across Tommy one late night, sat around a fire as they settled in for a night in the ski lodge, stranded by some heavy snowfall. He failed then, just like he failed when he tried to tell Ellie, till she raced off to throw snowballs at some kids and he remembered she was too young to listen to his burden, too beaten by life already to deserve stress within the respite of Jackson’s sanctuary. When he failed a fourth time to speak to Tommy, the real issue dawned on him.

He wants to talk to you. You’re the one he talks to, the one he goes to bear his wounds to, trusting no other’s love but your own to patch him up and calm him down. There’s only one issue, however.

He’s not told you about Sarah.

It was never a conscious decision, some secret he’d chosen to hide. Speaking about her simply hurt and, after the arduous months of crossing the country with Ellie, finding a place to call home in Jackson, and learning to hold somebody close again, he’d wanted to get away from pain, for a little while.

Then came the first anniversary of her death spent inside the commune. He’d drank himself blind, like every year before. There’s a hazy memory of that night he’s glad to suppress, one where he’s covered in his own vomit and you’re struggling to hold his weight up under a pouring shower, the sounds of his sobs muffled into your soaked sweater. He’d awakened, and awaited the questioning. Expected to open his eyes and find you stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Seeing the room empty was a shock, but drifting slowly down the stairs and finding you scrubbing the stains out of his shirts near floored him. 

The very same shirt you wear now, curled up on the sofa. Your eyes are shut, legs are bare, and there’s a gentle breeze that blows at the curtains you’d hung up, your first act upon moving in with him.

With a careful step, he avoids the creaking floorboard as he crosses the threshold. Slow as he can, he lowers the bag off his shoulder and props it gently against the wall, careful it doesn’t slip and let its contents spill out. Then he works at his laces, undoes them one by one, loosens them so his feet meet no resistance as he steps out of them. The summer’s heat affords him the liberation from heavy coats, less layers to shed now he’s returned to you at last.

You lay right, he strays left. Towards the kitchen, footsteps light as he can manage. Two chairs are pulled out at the table, two bowls sit drying neatly by the sink. Ellie must’ve stopped by for dinner. He’s glad to know she’s eaten, glad to know you kept each other company, glad to know the light is off in the shed and her snoring fills the hollow space. And he’s glad to find some food for him. He takes a bite, lifts the plate, finds a note beneath. Your handwriting, what do Joel Miller and breakfast have in common? followed by an arrow, urging him to turn the page around. The answer’s there, weakening his ageing knees. I can’t start my day without them.

Back by the sofa, a book sits split open, spine broken and pages pressed into ageing wood. Its cover is faded, frayed, much like he feels himself becoming.

He recognises it as one he’d gifted you, seasons ago. If he tries hard enough, he can remember the snow collecting in his unruly hair as he waited at your doorstep, and the way your smile melted the chill away, and the mumbling fool he’d made of himself upon handing the present over to you, some version of said you were bored, so I found this for you all he managed before turning on his heel and striding back to his own home, ignoring the teasing smile upon Ellie’s face.

After all this time, you still have it. Still read it. The fact slows his heart, soothes his aching back. Suddenly, he’s more than ready to head back out there, beyond the walls of Jackson, if it means collecting more books for you to remember him by when he’s long gone and withered away, no more than a familiar smell stained into your sheets and a fading warmth in the palm of your hand.

Two loud pops sound out of his knees as he crouches down by your side, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses the closer he grows to your sleeping form. There’s a want, nestled deep inside his bones, to pull you into his arms and deliver you upstairs to a bed made for two, in search of a peace his soul has not found since he’d left for his shift in the early hours of the morning. It would be cruel, however, to wake you when you’re so beautiful.

Joel once thought he’d liked you best when you were smiling, till you’d fallen asleep on his porch one night, after hours of talking his ears off. Since then he’s liked you best sleeping, resting. Comfortable enough to trust his watchful eye to keep any harm away while your body takes back its much needed rest, even on days like this when he’s not physically there. You’ve got his shirt, his scent embedded into every thread of it, and that’s enough to keep you safe.

The rough of his fingertips reach out to graze the soft of your cheeks, gently dancing up to comb a few strands of damp hair away from your face. It seems you’ve gained your own spider, the faintest of lines beginning to take shape upon your skin. You wear it better than him, Joel thinks, the passing of time upon your body a picture of love, and prosperity, and hope for more time to come. He wears it like a burden, however. A death sentence, a timer on how long till the cold hand of Death takes the place of your warm one clasped in his.

Adjusting to a life he fears to leave has not been easy. There’d been a time where the promise of death was a comfort. To wake each day, reckless with his time and mindless to his body, a thought of all the pain, and all the sorrow, and that overwhelming, heavy, overbearing loneliness that hung over him like a storm cloud at last coming to an end and ceasing to exist, it had kept him going. Though faith died alongside her, a dream of reuniting with his babygirl on the other side was one he clung to on nights when no drop of alcohol and no unlabeled pill was enough to send him off to sleep. Death now, however, means parting from you, from Ellie, from Tommy. It no longer comforts so much as it disturbs him.

Would you comfort yourself, in the wake of his death, with dreams of reuniting someday, down the line, when Death takes you by the hand and guides you back to Joel?

He can only hope his babygirl can forgive the way he now longs to keep living, in spite of her waiting patiently for him in whatever comes after this life. Perhaps his failing memory is a consequence of this, a punishment she sends for making her wait even longer to feel his embrace again, slowly stealing away the only parts of her Joel has anymore.

Even in guilt, he can’t bring himself to believe his Sarah would do such a thing. Her heart was never touched by the bitterness that had hardened his own, her soul pure a freshly fallen snow.

I want you to be loved, dad. Echoes of her voice in his mind, words she’d confessed to him with teary eyes, a half-eaten birthday cake sitting between them, two candles, one in the shape of three, the other a zero, tossed messily on the table. There’d been no real fuss for his thirtieth, at his own insistence. Just his parents, his brother, his daughter. Those he loved, gathered around one table, eating away at food he’d made.

I’m already loved, kiddo. I got you, don’t I?

Joel knew what it meant to feel unloved. For a long time, that’s all he felt. The love only a child could gift died just as quickly in his arms as she had, under the watchful teary eyes of his brother. Grief he dragged around with him, dedicated to both her and the love he no longer felt.

First came denial. A steady 48 hours post-mortem, in which he walked ahead of Tommy and convinced himself she was there, a few feet behind him, talking her uncle’s ears off as he made sure to clear any oncoming threats The denial culminated in him bleeding down the side of his face, a missed bullet somewhere left behind, and Tommy’s pleading voice trying to move him forward, dragging him to tents set up by the army.

Eleven stitches, each one imbedding loss and cowardice into his screaming skin. The anger settled in a few days later. It made a home within Joel, latched onto his heart and began to beat in place of it. It changed him, aged with him, convinced him it was the only partner he’d ever need. A hopeful glimmer of bargaining came in the shape of Tess. But anger and all its roots were too deeply burrowed within Joel, unwilling to be weeded out, no matter how firm the hand. 

Complacency was far easier than any fight. Tommy left, the buzz of a firefly seducing him with the idea of better, of more, of a cure. Joel convinced himself things were easier without Tommy and his morals around. The routine of waking, struggling, drinking, passing out was one he practised well and thoroughly. Till Marlene and her suicide mission.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Ellie, with all her snark, and her crass words, and her humourless puns, reminded Joel how it  felt to be loved. Laid upon his chest, a need for warmth and a plea for him to survive, she became the closest thing that felt like Sarah in twenty years. How could Marlene expect him to walk away, to leave her in that hospital?

Pain rushes in like a wave meets the shore, dampening him in a melancholy he saves for whiskey. Still resting peacefully on the sofa, your chest rises slow, steady, and constant. He tries to mimic it, matching his own breathing to it. It reminds him of dancing with you in the kitchen, barefoot and bare chested, arms entangled and forehead pressed to forehead, doing his best to stay in sync with your gentle sways.

The floorboards creek the further his aching body sinks to the floor. Like a man meets the altar, he’s on his knees. Blunt fingernails dig into the worn out brown leather of the couch, the only grip he has on reality. 

A discombobulated memory dances across his mind. One of a much younger him, with a head full of brown locks and a sleeping daughter upon his couch. Outbreak night. He’d been peacefully unaware of the happenings outdoors, happy to turn another year older next to his Sarah, when a call came through. His brother, dumped in some jail-cell and begging for release. He’d not thought it through much, sighing in frustration yet rising slowly to his feet nonetheless. If he’d known how that night would end, he’d have held his daughter a little tighter as he carried her to bed, he’d have left every kiss he could afford against her forehead, and speak every I love you he had left in him.

Grief is a river that travels the mountain of his mind. Strong, cold, descending upon a downward slope. Its currents are unforgiving, grabbing a hold of anything that blocks the path. Too easy is it for him to slip and fall into the rapids, losing hold of his footing on reality before he realises he’s struggling to breath and there’s a whole new river carving a way for itself out his eyes and down his cheeks. 

His eyes close. His breath halts. He tries to remember those breathing exercises, the same ones he uses any time the pain swells too much and the panic begins to attack his nervous system. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. Choke down a sob. Slow breath out. Joel. He pictures you, feet upon solid ground, hand stretched out as you try to goad him out the trepid waters of his grief. Joel. This image of you reminds him he’s got a name, got a life, got a purpose. To help Tommy on patrols. To make sure Ellie always has a place to call home. To keep you warm in the winter, and kissed during spring, and safe no matter where the sun may sit. Joel. The tears fall faster. Messier. He’s no longer a quiet companion at your side, but a mess of ragged breathing and nose sniffles. 

“Joel?”

Skin to skin. Soft hand to wet cheek. You’re awake faster than he can process, too quick to wipe tears or feign smiles. Legs scramble off the couch, parted and bent at the knee on either side of him. Musk, and lilies, and every scent that makes him feel safe and close to you envelop the shared space between you.

“Joel, baby, what’s wrong?” Your thumb swipes uselessly at his cheeks, fresh waves rolling out his eyes before you finish wiping the last. Sleep is written all over you, woven into your breathy voice and weighing down the bags of your eyes. He feels a whole new wave of guilt, waking you from such a peaceful slumber with the sight of him and all his ailments bursting out the frayed seams that hold him together.

He thinks he says your name. It’s hard to tell. The blurred image of you through his teary eyes inspires a heavy burden of disappointing you that he can not cope with, and so he ducks his head between your legs, forehead pressing on the inside of your left thigh. His breath is short, his heart is sore, and he’s staining your delicate skin with his pain. You let him grieve upon you, pull him closer. A hand soothes up his back. Your voice tells him it’s okay, and you hum a sweet tune he’s sure he’s played you many a drunken nights, when the confidence kicks in and he’s serenading you with his country twang and guitar strings.

There’s no prying, no demand to rightfully know why you’ve awoken to your lover, steadfast and stoic at his worst, collapsing into your hold. You let him cry. He lets you hold him. You’re all he’s been missing, this feeling of support he’s denied himself for far too long. No fear of your judgement, but fear of pulling you in amongst the dangerous currents alongside him. 

An anchor comes in the shape of your fingers carding through his unruly hair, a tether that pulls him back into the living room, into your home, into you. With the patience of any saint, you let him move at his own pace, head slowly rising from your thigh, back straightening to the best of its abilities. His hand, rough and hardened by time and grit and survival, paws at your thigh, clumsy in its attempts to dry his tears off of you, a fear of it sinking into your skin and some part of his sadness taking root inside your bloodstream.

Your hand stills his, gently, coercing his fingers to thread with your own as your other hand cups his face and guides him to look at you. You're beautiful, in a way that makes Joel wish he was better with words so he could spend the rest of his days finding new ways to tell you so. Instead, he has to settle with a simple, “my pretty girl.” You smile, bashful, as if that’s enough, as if you don’t deserve more.

“Hello to you too, handsome.” You peck his cheek, he chases after you with his mouth. Two small pecks, a third he fails to achieve as you hold him back. “Don’t think you can distract me with those perfect lips of yours, Miller. I’m worried about you, and no amount of kisses are gonna change that.”

He refocuses on his breathing exercises. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. No sob this time. Slow breath out. Your gaze, soft as a cloud, rests over him gently, your own chest rising and falling in sync with him. With every night he’d lay awake, trying to think of how to bring up Sarah and the details of her he’s failing to hold onto, never did he imagine the weight to fly off his chest so easily with just a supportive smile from you.

“I had someone before, who I loved.” He pauses. Clears his throat, shifts his weight. His knees are beginning to ache the longer they sit digging into the hard floor. He should have listened to your advice of scavenging a rug. “Not how I love you. Like I love Ellie.”

Silence.

Not the kind where you hear a pin drop, but one that allows the laughter of children playing down the street to blow in with the breeze, and the creaking of the old house you’ve both made a home, and the squeaks and chirps of wild-life continuing on outside, unaffected by the end of civilisation.

Then, “I know.” Joel’s eyes widen, disbelief painted across them. “Tommy’s let it slip a few times. Just when we’re on patrol and he sees something that reminds him of her. Or he’s telling me a story that’s sole purpose is to embarrass you.” A part of him wants to feel angry at his younger brother, stealing his right to reveal such a large part of who he is. The other part of him feels for him too, a reminder that Sarah’s loss is not one he tackled all by himself. She was his daughter, but she was also Tommy’s niece. How could he blame him for feeling comfortable enough to share his grief with you? “Ellie also mentioned it, once. Back before you and I were really…” You fall silent, trail off, as you both usually do when faced with tackling the task of labelling what exists between you.

“Why,” he chooses to distract himself from it, scared of a world where he asks for the right to claim himself as your husband. Those things don’t matter anymore, with the world gone to shit, but a man could still dream. “Didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s your story to tell, I didn’t want to force it out you. I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

He may not know how to label what you are to him, but he knows he loves you. God, does he love you.

“Thank you, darlin’, I really-” He’s getting choked up, caught between his grief for Sarah and his love for you. You seem to understand, as you always do, hands slowly pulling and coercing him up onto the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “Can’t thank you enough.”

“You’ve nothing to thank me for.” You promise, sealing it into his skin with a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t like to see you cry, Joel, but I prefer you do it in front of me. Don’t hide parts of yourself. I want all of you. Good, bad, and everything in between.”

There’s the urge to let himself fall into the river again, now that you’ve pulled him ashore and attached yourself to him like a life vest, an oath to never let him drown. He feels his eyes well-up, but doesn’t let them fall, as his mouth runs ahead of his mind and at last confesses the troubles he’s been keeping close to his chest.

“It used to be like this every day. Tears, unless I numbed myself free of consciousness. Then, things got better. With Ellie and you around. Anytime I felt the anger or the pain swelling, you’d be there and there’d be room for laughter. But I’m getting older, darlin’. Memories’ not the same. There’s things about my babygirl, my Sarah, that I just… can’t remember. And it scares me. Scares me so bad that I don’t know how to cope with it. If I ever woke up and couldn’t remember her face, it would kill me. I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

He speaks slowly. You cling to every word, a gentle nod lets him know you understand. A part of him wonders how deep that understanding runs, if you too had lost a child. He wants to afford you the same grace you’ve given in, and so he doesn’t pry. If you have a story to tell, he can only hope to still be around to listen.

Oblivious to the thoughts of you holding a faceless child swirling around in his head, you pull Joel into you, encouraging him to let you hold his frame. You’ve told him countless times he needs to let himself be cared for, a spark that ignited many  arguments in the early days of your love. It feels nice to comply at last, head drifting down to rest on your steady shoulder. Your legs curl up onto the couch, lay gently over his own, as an arm wraps itself around his aching back.

Only like this does Joel feel he’s finally arrived home after weeks of wading through the depths of his own sorrows, evading a bounty placed upon him by time.

Joel is ageing. Everyday, a new line appears on his face. Every year, a new ache burrows in his bones. But, if each moment he can feel your love in acts of kindness, and left-over meals, and sleepy limbs upon a shared mattress, it doesn’t feel as daunting. He wonders what awaits him in the afterlife, when he and Sarah reunite as he so hopes. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that she’d be proud of him for finding solace in a heart like yours.

“Tell me about her.” You plead to him something he’s spent years longing to do.

Without missing a beat, words flow easily and memories play on in his head, his precious daughter no longer blurry in a haze, but fully in focus, smiling wide at him with a mouthful of food.

“She loved pancakes.”

[eternaldecisions]

˙ . ꒷ slytherin!matt . 𖦹˙—

slytherin ! matt pays for you, as you didn’t bring money.

you step off the carriage, your boots sinking slightly into the snow-covered cobblestones of Hogsmeade. The winter air nips at your cheeks, and a shiver runs down your spine. The faint glow of fairy lights hanging from the eaves of the shops twinkle through the falling snowflakes, making the whole place look like something out of a storybook.

you inhale deeply, the comforting scent of pumpkin pasties and the spiced aroma of butterbeer mingling with the crispness of the snow. The stress of recent exams slowly begins to melt away with every breath you take. This was exactly what you needed—a day to yourself, to wander through the village.

pushing open the heavy wooden door, a little bell jingles overhead, announcing your arrival. Inside, the warmth is immediate, and you smile as you take in the rows upon rows of sweets, each more colorful and whimsical than the last. You approach the counter, where a friendly witch with rosy cheeks stands ready to take your order.

“Just a simple Honeydukes bar, please,” you say with a soft smile, your voice almost getting lost in the lively hum of the shop. As she nods and turns to prepare it, you let your gaze wander around the cozy interior. Your eyes trace the shelves stacked with Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's every flavour beans, and glittering sugar quills.

but then, as your eyes move towards the far end of the shop, they land on a familiar figure. Matt, with his brunette hair and that unmistakable crooked grin, is standing with a group of his friends, laughing at something one of them just said. Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly turn your head, hoping he hasn’t seen you.

why no matter where you went, Matt always seemed to be there? It was like an invisible thread tied you together, pulling him into your orbit every time you tried to get some space. You can’t help but wonder if he feels the same, if he ever notices this strange connection as much as you do

you try to focus on something else, anything else, but it’s impossible to ignore the way your heart races whenever he’s near. The bell on the door rings again, and for a split second, you think about leaving before he spots you, but before you can move, you hear the familiar, almost musical sound of his laughter.

taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that today is supposed to be about you, about finding peace and enjoyment in the little things, like a simple chocolate bar from Honeydukes. You try to center yourself, grounding your thoughts on the warmth of the shop, the comforting smells, and the gentle hum of people around you.

but as you glance up, you catch his reflection in the glass display case—a small, almost imperceptible moment where his eyes meet yours through the array of shimmering sweets. It’s brief, just a flicker, but enough to send a rush of warmth through you, even in the middle of the winter chill.

you couldn’t help but glance at Matt’s outfit as he walked past, your eyes drawn to the boldness of his red and black plaid jacket. The large checks of the fabric seemed to suit him perfectly, the rich colors standing out against the muted tones of the snowy surroundings. The jacket had an intriguing design—both classic and modern, effortlessly blending style with comfort.

his baggy black pants completed the look, adding a casual, laid-back vibe to his ensemble. They hung loosely around his legs, the fabric swaying slightly as he moved, giving him an air of confidence.

you quickly snap out of your trance, Matt’s presence momentarily forgotten as the witch behind the counter breaks the silence. “Honey? That will be $2.65, please,” she says kindly, her voice warm and patient. You reach for your skirt pocket, expecting to feel the familiar texture of your coin pouch. But your fingers meet nothing but the smooth fabric. A wave of panic washes over you as you realize you’ve left your money back in your room. How could you have been so careless and forget about a important thing?

“I-I didn’t bring…” you stammer quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Embarrassment colors your cheeks as the reality of your situation sets in. The thought of having to tell the kind witch you couldn’t pay, and possibly upsetting her, knots your stomach with nerves. You curse yourself inwardly, feeling foolish.

but before the witch can respond, a shadow falls over you, and suddenly Matt is beside you, his presence both unexpected and disarming. He doesn’t say a word as he smoothly places a bill on the counter, paying for your purchase without a second thought. The witch smiles and takes the money, handing him the change before moving on to help the next customer.

your mouth falls open in shock, eyes wide as you look up at Matt. Of all people, he was the last person you’d expected to step in and help. Yet here he was, composed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You’re surprised, and more than a little flustered.

“Sweetheart,” Matt says with a chuckle, the nickname rolling off his tongue with ease, “I expected you to be smart enough not to forget your money in your room.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. You feel a mix of emotions—gratitude, embarrassment, and a flutter of something else that you can’t quite place. All you can do is nod, managing a small, sheepish smile in response, the words you want to say tangled up in your throat.

"Why would you ever pay for it?" you blurt out, the words slipping past your lips before you can catch them. Gratitude hangs somewhere in the back of your mind, but curiosity and confusion push it aside.

Matt’s response is a low chuckle, the sound rolling effortlessly off his tongue, as if the whole situation is amusing to him. He glances at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes, and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Felt generous,” he says, as though it’s the simplest explanation in the world. “Didn’t really feel like watching you embarrass yourself in front of everyone in here.” His tone is teasing, but not unkind, more like he’s pointing out something endearing rather than a fault. “Besides,” he adds, his grin widening, “forgetting about money? That’s quite a move. Thought you might need a little saving.”

you shake your head, trying to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Well, it’s not like I planned to forget,” you retort, but your voice is softer, the initial embarrassment slowly fading.

“That’s the nicest I’ve caught you being," you chuckle, your voice softening as you glance up at Matt. Your eyes linger on his jawline, tracing the sharp angles, before drifting down to his hands. Two silver rings catch the light, glinting like promises unspoken. You can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have that cold metal brush against your skin, preferably, feeling it against your thighs, his fingers pumping in and ou- no, you can’t think about dirty thoughts,not certainly with Matthew.

Matt’s smirk deepens as he catches the flicker of something more in your eyes, something that sends a subtle charge through the air between you. He leans in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "Careful. I might start thinking you’re enjoying my company."

your heart skips a beat as the space between you seems to shrink. His words are laced with a hint of challenge, a dare that you can feel humming beneath the surface. You let out a soft laugh, trying to keep things light, but the tension lingers, wrapping around you like a slow, tightening coil.

“Maybe I am,” you reply, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them. There’s a boldness to your tone that surprises even you. You glance back at his hands, those silver rings now a magnet for your gaze, drawing you in with a pull that’s hard to resist.

Matt’s eyes follow yours, and for a moment, it feels as if the world has stopped, leaving just the two of you suspended in this moment of possibility, and once again, you’rs wondering what it would feel like if he reached out, if those cold bands of metal met your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You should be careful with thoughts like that,” he murmurs, his voice smooth, but there’s an edge to it—a warning, or perhaps an invitation. The way he looks at you now, his gaze steady and unreadable, makes your breath catch. It’s as though he’s daring you to take the next step, to close the gap that hangs between curiosity and something much more dangerous.

and as you meet his eyes, a thrill runs through you—a thrill that whispers of all the things you’ve only ever imagined but never dared to reach for.

the air between you thickens, charged with an electricity that neither of you can ignore. Matt’s eyes darken, and there’s a tension in his jaw, a flicker of restraint that only makes your pulse race faster. He shifts slightly closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way, making it harder to remember why you should be cautious, why you should hold back.

“Am I being too reckless?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, though it carries the weight of a deeper question. You’re not just talking about your words; you’re talking about the line you’re both toeing, the unspoken boundary that’s grown thinner with every second.

his gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a heartbeat, but it’s enough to send warmth pooling low in your belly. “Maybe,” he replies, his voice rougher now, the careful control slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the desire simmering beneath. “But that’s never stopped you before, has it?”

the way he says it, almost like a challenge, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, makes you ache with a need that’s becoming harder to deny. You don’t move away, don’t even flinch, as he reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, the heat rising in your skin each second passing.

it’s the smallest touch, barely there, but it feels like a touch you wanna feel it every minute. His thumb traces a slow, deliberate path, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes your lips. Your eyes meet his, and you see the resolve in them waver, just for a second, before he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

“I can’t promise you this won’t end badly, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice so low it sends a shiver down your spine. “But if you want to keep going… I won’t stop you.”

his words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and you realize the decision is yours now. The space between you is a heartbeat away from disappearing entirely, and the temptation to cross it, to feel his hands—those rings—against your skin, grows stronger with every passing moment.

but just as the tension reaches its peak, Matt pulls back, his expression shifting to something more guarded, but the smirk still there. The warmth that had been building between you cools in an instant, leaving you feeling suddenly exposed.

“This is not the end of our banter,” he says, more to himself than to you, as if wrestling with some inner conflict. His hand drops from your arm.

for a moment, he lingers, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s about to say something more. But then, without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with a mix of needing and disappointment churning in your chest.

but you’re not letting him tease you with his touch like he’s winning.

a/n: i love but just love edging 🤭🤭 hope this is good prayer

[xixovart]

lost trio headcanons because theyre my mini fixation for the day

for starters i’d like to remind you that the first time jason felt like a person and not a soldier was when he was with leo and piper

ok now actual headcsnons

jason’s hair grew out after a bit and ended up covering the scar (“undercut”) he has on the side of his head from that one bullet. leo likes to surprise people by putting jason’s hair up bc its funny to see their reactions

l: “and look—secret undercut!!”

j: “it’s not an undercut leo, it’s a scar”

p: “the bullet didn’t even touch your skin drama queen”

j: “might’ve. my head could’ve exploded and—“

[groaning and arguing and leo laughing]

—canon convo guys rick told me

leo knows a lot of car games which is very beneficial for long days on the argo ii

piper always has a lollipop in her mouth and no one knows where they come from

leo comes up with the oddest nicknames and piper and jason are just. so used to it? jason could be talking to like reyna or smth and leo will come up to him and say

l: “oh hey jason gracer razor blazer”

j: “hi leo”

r: “what the fuck”

leo is really bad at picking up social clues so jason does it for him

the wildnerness school had a really early curfew that piper and leo blatantly ignored

they would stay out and wander the halls and hide in classrooms whenever a teacher was nearby

leo was poor and homeless, jason was raised with no regards to currency, spending, or finances, and piper is a nepo baby. the ultimate trio dynamic. arguing for hours about whether $50 is a lot or not (it is.)

leo shares food as a love language

jason loves video games, surprisingly enough (mario kart. MARIO KART.)

piper is constantly taking leo’s and jason’s stuff. hair ties, jewelry, mostly clothes, also mostly food, leo’s homework,

the trio has a movie marathon every friday night. there’s blanket forts, gummy worms, matching pjs, and fairy lights involved. they borrow rachel’s cave, since cabin 1 is too depressing and the aphrodite and hephaestus cabins are way too packed (sometimes rachel hangs around for a bit :D)

picture me this. it’s winter, the lake is frozen over. they somehow find ice skates. utter chaos. leo fancies himself a figure skater, jason is on all fours because he keeps falling, and piper actually did figure skating as a kid

GUYS GUYS THE TRIO GOING ON A QUEST AND HAVING TO HIJACK AN UPPER-CLASS PARTY/GATHERING IM LOSING MY SHIT IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES

im gonna have to draw this but like

piper giving them very strict instructions on what to do and what not to do (they end up forgetting half of it)

yk that one quote from new girl?

“where are you piper?? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kms with”

that’s leo

jason just hanging around quietly and not engaging in conversation and keeping everyone under close radar like the little fucking wolf he is

everyone ends up thinking he’s a bodyguard

the trio just goes along with it

YH THATS IT I HAVE MORE I THINK BUT THIS IS GETTING WAY TOO LONG SOOO BYE LOSERS GOODNIGHT AND DONR FORGET RO SLEEP EAT AND DRINK WATER (you hear that, @kindred-spirit-93? water. not pink milk. water./j)

[prettyoatmeal]

Something for Christmas? With König maybe?

Tis the season ☺️

Loving You Can't Wait (König x GN!Reader)

A/N: Expect a few Christmas themed posts from me because YES, ANON! TIS THE SEASON! Here's a König drabble :3 No cut since it's so short

Synopsis: König is home for the holidays, and home for good. Granted permission and submitting his retirement papers, he couldn't be happier to return home to you for forever.

Word Count: 270

Masterlist here!

***************

Falling asleep next to you was always the best part of coming home. There's no other place König would rather be than in your arms at the end of the day.

The winter started off harsh, and it was only going to progress further. All day, every day, he craved your touch to warm him up. The more he was away from you, the more needy he would become.

All this to say, he can't bear to be more than 3 feet away from you. So arriving home late, he was here to stay. And for good.

Opening the door to your shared bedroom, a wave of relaxation washed over him seeing you curled up in bed with a cup of hot cocoa and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. The room was decorated so beautifully, a small Christmas tree on your nightstand, colourful fairy lights dimly lighting the room. He almost fell weak to his knees right there.

Looking over at him with a smile, you patted the open spot next to you, an invitation to join. He dropped his bags to the floor before immediately crawling into bed next to you with a long groan of relief.

Wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your side, he mumbled, “Missed you so much. Miss you always. I'm never going to leave your side again, Schatz.”

You smiled down at the larger man snuggling into your side, the arms around you possessive a protective grip on you. Both of you disregarded the fact that he was still in his work clothes. That didn’t matter, not tonight. Not ever again.

The bedsheets could be washed. The bedsheets could wait. Making new memories with him couldn't.

Loving him couldn’t.

[dcxdpdabbles]

So, I wrote the thing. I don't know if you'll like, but I sure hope you do. The only warning I think I should give is about the pairing, because it's heavily implied (a little more than that, actually) that it's Val x Wes x Sam x Tucker x Danny, (I have no idea what's the name of this ship, I just love it because it sounds chaotic as heck) and Dani is their daughter. Maddie and Val are also implied to be a little unhinged.

So... I gave Wes and Val their alternative versions, and changed Dani's:

Danny Fenton --- Bruce Wayne

Samantha Manson --- Selina Kyle

Tucker Tuck --- Ethan Bennett

Valerie Gray --- Talia al Ghul

Wes Weston --- Harvey Dent

Dani Fenton --- Damian Wayne

(a secret, third thing: Clockwork is Alfred)

I hope you like it!

____________

The day Valerie decides to hunt down Danny until she could punch him in the face even if it’s the last thing she does has, surprisingly, nothing to do with his double life as Phantom, or the fact that he passed a third of her skate into the wall and she had to ask The Ghost Box to take it out so she could teach Dani how to skate.

If she’s feeling nice, she might even say it isn’t because he left the family group chat on read after saying that sometimes it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission and hasn’t been seen again in one week, but.

She’s not feeling nice.

At the start of their summer holiday, two days unsupervised were enough for Danny to find a word in the stone age and get a lot of new pets when the meteor fell, filling their castle with the biggest and scariest Woolly Rhinoceros imaginable… Who he called Sweetheart.

At the end of their summer holiday, three days were enough for Danny to turn into a squirrel and start a war against the pixies, and Wes had to step in to create a democracy when the squirrel won over the fairies and Danny was almost crowned King 一 again, this time looking like he really wanted the title. Thankfully, it wasn’t in another dimension and sometimes he can come back to see how they’re doing, or Clockwork knows what he would do to protect them from other creatures.

Now, at the beginning of their winter holiday, Valerie fears what he has done in the week no one could stop his intrusive thoughts or find him, because the little shit learnt from his mistakes and took the boo-merang with him.

And that’s why she’ll hunt him down in a way Skulker wishes he could accomplish, with their three years old daughter tracking him down like a sugar-high boo-merang would.

Valerie isn't doing it because if he’s not in their dimension in three days, she is the one going with Sam to one of her parent’s boring galas as her partner to listen to their speech about how supportive they are to accept that their daughter has more than one partner, one even being a girl.

It’s also not because she and the others are worried about him, and also Tucker, who hasn't slept in days trying to help Dani find her familial ties with Danny.

So when Valerie packs her weapons and puts on her suit, she pretends she doesn’t notice that some of the guns Maddie created for her are heavier than others and wouldn't work on Ghosts, so that Sam doesn't get even more panicked.

She also pretends, when she follows Dani through the Infinity Realms, that she isn't scared for what could happen to Danny with his Fenton Luck 一 she’s the level-headed of the relationship, after all, and she has to keep her composure because the other three surely won’t.

… She's still punching him as a greeting, though.

::

Tasting the decaffeinated coffee Alfred poured for him, Tim knew that the day was going to be long.

When the front door was blasted out of its hinges by a young alternative version of Talia al Ghul screaming for her stupid boyfriend, though… That's when he knew he wouldn't know peace until his last day alive.

Seconds before the door was blasted:

Dani *turning off her invisibility after scouting the area and not seeing her Father*: Mother, they have a secret basement!

Valerie "I'm the level headed of the relationship" picking the rocket lancer that wouldn't hurt a ghost: Say less, sweetie. Also, call your Fenton grandparents, tell them Danny is involved with another billionaire :)

After Danny is back home from feeding his raccoon friends and getting dropkicked by Val:

Danny: This is my girlfriend, Talia.

Val: ???

Danny: And this is our daughter... Daniyah.

Dani: ... >:)

Damian "We never told Brucie my mother's name": I'M A GIRL??????

Dick "I have my priorities straight": I'M NOT THE OLDEST????

Alfred "I do have my priorities straight and a shotgun I'm not scared of using": I'm already a grandfather????

Clockwork "I could have stopped this any time I wanted but let the alt me have these sweet moments to remember the good ol' times": Yes, we are :)

Maddie and Jack showing up in Gotham with their Midwest smile and a lot, a lot of weapons that wouldn't hurt ghosts: ◉⁠‿⁠◉

Everyone withing 100m radio: Why... Why do I suddenly fear for my life... More than usual?

(I'm sending this without much proof reading because if I don't I'll ending up not sending anything, so sorry about any mistakes)

I love how Val is the most level-headed but also the one who shoots a mistle at the door just because they couldn't spot Danny but saw a basement.

Like they didn't even confirm Danny was in that basement, they just went "Well it's time to say hello! *BOOM*"

Thank you for sharing this with me!

[blue-cheeseinmyoffwhites]

Hello, saw your posts about RWBY Characters' Allusions. A question, does team rwby have another character allusion?

A lot of characters have more than one allusion, and team RWBY is no different. These allusions often have a character fill a complementary role of a significant figure in another fairy tale.

Let's start with Ruby Rose. She is of course Little Red, but there are also other characters she embodies. The Wolf in the story is known for his big & shiny eyes, a very notable feature of Ruby (that was pointed out by Ozpin in the first episode, just like the fairy tale). She is also her own huntsman, equip with an "axe" weapon of her own.

Weiss Schnee is Snow White, but also takes other roles of the story based on her summons. Her Boartusk represents the huntsman, who killed a boar to spare the princess. Her Knight represents the noble prince who saves her. Her Queen Lancer represents the Evil Queen who plagues her. Weiss seems to take after the Evil Queen the most, with her friends often referring to her as "Ice Queen".

After reading those first two, you can probably now understand why Blake is based on both Beauty & the Beast. She has Belle's beauty, part of her name, her love for books, her relationship to "Adam" and her tendency to run away. But like the Beast, she has animal traits that she hides, is haunted by a rose, prefers living in isolation, and eventually falls in love with a human girl. She is often seen in Forever Fall, a forest with wilting red flowers, representing the wilting rose that curses the Beast.

Yang is Goldilocks with her destructive nature & yellow hair, but can also be seen as Baby Bear, the child of the Papa (Taiyang, blue eyes) & Mama (Raven, red eyes), resulting in Yang being a mix of both (purple eyes). Each parent compares Yang to the other, and she learns to embrace the good and bad traits of both in order to become "just right".

The tale of Rose Red & Snow White, two young girls based on Little Red & Snow White, can be the inspiration for the partnership between Ruby & Weiss. The two were sisters, which is represented by the ever-growing bond between Ruby & Weiss. Weiss's fairy tale, Snow White, could also be the reason for Ruby's theme, Red Like Roses, which is how the Evil Queen described how red she wants her lips in the original tale (in some stories she compares it to blood in the snow, both line up perfectly with the Red Trailer & Players & Pieces).

Weiss also represents the story of the Snow Queen. She is called Ice Queen. She has a male companion (Kai/Whitley) who is cold, distant, & rude. She sets off to find the Snow Queen (Winter) in V5, during her trip she meets a talking corvid (Raven) & a robber maiden (Vernal). Weiss also gets pierced by evil glass like Gerda.

Gerda’s most cherished memories is being young playing in the rose gardens with her friend. They shared many happy memories here. This rose garden takes the embodiment of Ruby Rose, who befriends Weiss & takes her on adventures. Weiss reminisces about Ruby in V4 after the attack on Beacon, missing the days when they had fun together. A frozen rose garden is seen in Weiss Character Short, representing her longing for Ruby (innocence, fun, freedom).

Blake & Yang have so many allusions when it comes to their relationship. Start with Beauty and Beast. Blake already shows traits of both Belle & the Beast, but Yang does as well. Her affiliation with yellow, adventure, bright energy, & beauty is reminiscent of Belle. The Red Trailer even directly ties her with Blake, calling her the beauty to her beast. Yet Yang also displays signs of the Beast, most notably her behavior when she is angry. She sparks fire red eyes similar to the monstrous Grimm they fight, and is the most aggressive fighter of the group. She receives an injury on her arm identical to the Beast. Most importantly, she is abandoned by Beauty in V3. This theme of having similar & different traits within one another ties into another dynamic that will be explained later.

There are two roses that bring them together. They meet through Ruby, the good rose Yang gives to Blake. Adam is the bad rose that Blake tries to keep away from Yang, but he breaks them. Adam starts off as the Beast (Adam) to Blake’s Beauty. Once she leaves him (like the fairy tale) he then embodies the Rose that haunts her. Once he meets Blake’s new partner, he then becomes Gaston & adopts his jealousy. Once Blake & Yang defeat him, they free themselves from the curse and come back to the Good Rose.

Blake & Yang also represent the Yin & Yang dynamic. We have the darkness (Blake) and the light (Yang), with a little bit of each other in each (matching eyes). Many cultures depict Yin as a tiger (Blake's cat ears) and Yang as a dragon (Xiao Long). The themes of darkness and light has been associated with Blake & Yang since their trailers. Blake engulfs in darkness when she leaves, while Yang brings light when she enters (kind of like their semblances). Scenes with Blake & Yang play with lighting a lot (2x06, 6x01, 9x06), and fights involving them often have them circling around each other or moving across each other, just like the Yin Yang Symbol.

Team RWBY as a whole also has references. One commonly known reference is the Wizard of Oz crew, with Ruby acting as Dorothy (who had Ruby/Silver slippers). Weiss is the Tin Man who gains heart while the real one loses it (Ironwood), Blake is the Lion who gains courage while the real one loses it (Lionheart), and Yang is the Scarecrow who learns to fight smarter while the real one acts irrationally (Qrow). These four adventurers set off to Beacon (Land of Oz), meet the Wizard (Ozpin), and get their wishes (graduating). They are told to stay on the Yellow Road, but fail.

The team's respective Remnants also allude to their fairy tales. Ruby sheds roses, representing her red color scheme, her youthful innocence, and the flowers Little Red picks for her grandmother. Weiss sheds snow, representing her white color scheme, her cold attitude, and Snowhite's soft skin that gave her the name. Blake sheds shadows, representing her black color scheme, her dark personality and background, and the Beast condemned to the shadows. Yang sheds fire, representing her yellow color scheme, her bright but scorching personality, and the porridge Goldilocks claimed was "too hot".

Ruby represents multiple figures from others characters’ allusions. Penny is based on Pinocchio, who wishes on a Shooting Star to be a real human. Ruby, who is often characterized as a small flickering light (literally & figuratively) she represents the star that Penny wishes for & makes her feel human (literally & figuratively).

2x07 Dance Dance Infiltration is a retelling of the Cinderella story. The maiden is told she needs to return by midnight, puts on a disguise, & goes off. Ruby tracks her, Cinderella enters the stage, the two dance, and she leaves without a trace. Ruby in this case represents the Prince that wants to find the mysterious maiden he danced with the night before. His only clue was her missing glass slipper. Cinder fights with glass, a point Ruby reports to her professors as information to track her down.

There's a lot more micro references to other fairy tales but these are the most notable for Team RWBY. These references influence how a character is portrayed, how they interact with others, and the actions they take.

[desi2go]

Date on ice

pairing: Chan x reader

Warnings: fluff

Author's note: I know it's already warmer (well, here it is!), but I saw a cute video of Chan and Jeongin skating on ice and the way they both skated gave me the idea for this fic! Unfortunately I can't find it anymore, otherwise I would link it here.

The winter in Seoul is cold. The wind from Russia brings coldness, especially around January and February. That time is filled with hot chocolates and marshmallows

You love the winter. It seems that the nature is sleeping and finds strength for the next summer. You loved the snow that sparkles in the cold winter sun like fairy dust, that covers everything like a white protective blanket.

And you liked to spend your day inside on your couch with a hot chocolate with marshmallows in one hand and your favourite book in the other.

Chan on the other hand is more the summer person. He spend his childhood in Australia, at the ocean. He just doesn't like wearing big jackets and the coldness outside. It makes him missing his home even more.

You loved standing on the ice. Since you were a little girl, barely walking, your parents took you to a ice skating rink. It was your family activity each winter. While you grew up, the small amount of time that you spend on ice grew and soon, you took some lessons. You loved skating over the ice and with the training you danced, literally floated over the frozen water.

The winter activity turned into a hobby, a passion. You went on tournaments and due to your ambition, you were often gifted with medals. You knew that it wasn't your hobby anymore, it was something that you wanted to do after college. You wanted to reach the olympics, international tournaments.

You trained and trained but your left knee couldn't stand the permanent strain. That's why you choose to let your dream of being a professional ice skater slip and now worked in a restaurant.

There you had met Chan, your boyfriend. Your relationship was fragile at first due to the busy idol life. But you managed to go through that difficult phase and learned that he has a lot to do.

You both tried to have dates at least every two weeks.

This Saturday, you had agreed to go ice skating. You had told him about your past with the ice skating and due to your work, you didn't go skating anymore. But you were happy to finally go again and take your boyfriend with you.

With your bag with ice skates in one hand and your boyfriends in the other, you entered your favourite place. When Chan had some skates too, you changed into your skating outfit. Chan chuckled as soon as he saw your white cuffs that you pulled over the laces of the skates.

When you looked over, you saw your boyfriend moving his skates, still not tied. Full of expectations, he watched you fiddling with your own. You noticed his stare.

"What? Should I tie them for you?" A big smile spread over his face and a small blush crept up his cheeks.

Fast, you had tied them and you could feel Chan's hot stare as he watched your skilfull hands.

"Alright bub. Let's hit the ice" You didn't even wait, you jumped on the ice in a swift motion while Chan held the border firm and placed a foot on the slippery ice while the other was still on the ground. You already made circles around the whole arena while he was still glued to the safe border.

You looked so majestic, like that was your home. You knew the ice better than anyone else. With long precise steps you navigated through the other people and appeared next to him.

"Everything alright?" You asked and took his hand into yours. "Yes. How can you be so fast? I'm glued to the border and I'm not even five metres away from the entrance!" He pouted and you pulled him away from the edge. He yelped and his grip reinforced as he waddled to you.

"Come, let's walk a bit" You turned around so that you skated in front of him and pulled him with you. He was stunned that you could navigate over the ice backwards. He couldn't even skate forward appropriately. You were a queen on the ice. His queen.

His waddling grew steadier and he finally had fun without being afraid of falling. You let one hand go and skated side by side with him. His hands was clothed in a glove while yours were bare and still radiated a comforting warmth. You were used to the cold after so many hours of training.

You looked so relaxed, like coming home and he was happy to create some memories here. Even though he was much better at swimming, in the water in general, he wouldn't mind to spend more time on the water just to see that smile when you teach him some techniques and tricks.

For two hours you two skated. From time to time you would let go of his hand to do spins and jumps that seems so effortless and feather light. Your movements were precise and fast. Then you would take your place at Chan's side again.

Giggling, he tried to impress you with a small spin. Suddenly, he slipped on the ice, rowing with his arms to try to get balance. But he still landed on his bum. Shocked you skated to him and helped him up as he rubbed his bottom.

"Everything alright?" You asked and couldn't hold in the big smile.

" Yeah, but I think I need to work on my spin" he answered.

For sure, his ass will hurt in the next days and he will definitely get a bruise but making you laugh was worth it.

[scarletttries]

Christmas By Myself This Year (Moon Knight Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader

Rating: Pure fluff, gender neutral pronouns throughout :)

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: My Christmas gift to all the Steven Grant lovers, after I got the sweetest anon request for something along the lines of Steven turning up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve 🥰I hope you are all having the best festive period that you can 💕

Christmas By Myself This Year (Steven Grant Fluff)

"This is great."

You stated each word matter-of-factly to yourself as you put the final bauble on the miniature Christmas tree you'd perched in the middle of your coffee table. You hadn't been planning on decorating this year, part of a promise you made yourself to use your precious few days off to prioritise self-care and ignore all the pressures that usually came with Christmas; family drama, big nights with your friends that left you exhausted, and never enough hours in the day to do something for yourself after looking for everyone else. No, this year you were taking control of your own Christmas and spending it at home, alone. It was going to be perfect, and you had been so proud of yourself when you decided to be alone this holiday period, so when you went out to get everything you needed for your favourite meal and saw some decorations discounted on Christmas Eve you couldn't help but take it as a sign to put up a few little celebratory trinkets.

You'd started with some fairy lights around the windows of your little flat, then popped some colourful baubles on the foot-high tree, now finally the finishing touch. You giggled to yourself as you tied a piece of ribbon to the nail above your front door, a neat bow holding a swinging piece of mistletoe in place. The face that flashed through your mind was that of Steven Grant, a regular at the vegetarian restaurant you worked at, his big brown eyes staring warmly up at you as if you were old friends. As well as being one of your most loyal customers, he was also by far the friendliest, visiting you often at work and talking your ear off in an effort to get to know you better, even going as far as to walk you home one night with an umbrella extended above you both when you forgot your own in the worst of the London weather. He was sweet and shy and awkward, all while being undeniably handsome but completely unaware of it. You realised you were smiling to yourself at the mere thought of the man, shaking your head as you turned your back to the door and wondered if it would break your own Christmas rules to try and bump into him at midnight on new year's eve.

You let the thought ruminate as you threw on a festive playlist and heated up some mulled wine on your stove, grateful for the moment of peace but also quickly feeling the tinge of loneliness in your quiet home. It was a relief to be away from work and family, so why did you keep glancing at the sofa like you were looking at someone? Maybe it was the string of bad dates this year had thrown your way, each one an unmitigated disaster. Or the fact that you'd just seen two of your friends get engaged this winter. Maybe you did want to be spending your Christmas with someone. Maybe you just didn't have that special someone in your life yet? So Christmas alone it is.

"This is great.." You sighed as you turned off the heat and poured the steaming burgundy potion into a festive mug, topping it with a slice of orange and then absent-mindedly doing the same to a second mug. Holding one in each hand you walked back to the coffee table, setting them down as you realised they would both just be for you, the playlist almost drowned out by torrential rain picking up outside your windows. Another wave of loneliness washed over you at the first sip, and suddenly you didn't feel much like being alone at all.

And then the doorbell rang.

You weren't expecting anyone, everyone you could think of being out of town for their own holiday adventures, so you slowly approached the door, debating dialing 9-9 into your phone just in case, and peered through the peephole.

"Steven?" You practically ripped the door open at the sight of the cold, soaked man, struggling with the chain just long enough you feared he might have turned around and walked home already. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Wide-eyed and almost apologetic Steven quickly nodded his head, tripping over his tongue as he spoke. He had spent all day preparing a few words from when he got brave enough to see you, but he wasn't expecting to miss you so much that he'd turn up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve, and he didn't prepare an answer for when you asked if he was okay.

"Merry Christmas! Oh, um, I'm fine, sorry, this must seem mad. I'm here and I didn't call first and now I'm dripping on your nice door mat." He trailed off in a panicked chuckle, each word making him realise quite what a sorry sight he must be.

"Do you want to come inside Steven? I just made mulled wine?" Your smile was just as welcoming as your words and even though he dreaded the thought of intruding, he found himself floating into your cosy home very happily.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother. You have such a nice place, I'd hate to drip all over it." He found the tension melting from his shoulders as your hands settled there, suddenly remembering just why he missed being around you so much.

"You're not a bother at all Steven, you are very welcome here. Let me take your wet coat." He willingly shrugged off the damp layer and mumbled his thank yous as you shut the door behind him, letting him delve deeper into your inner sanctum. His face lit up as he surveyed your walls, a dozen new insights into your life and the things that you loved, your warm space so uniquely you but welcoming to everyone all the same. He felt at ease and at home, like he did whenever he got to spend time with you.

You on the other hand could feel your pulse racing as his flushed cheeks drew closer to yours, every beaming smile thrown your way as he looked around raising the temperature in your home by a degree or two. Trying to pull yourself together you turned on your heels and picked up the mugs you'd just filled up, extending one to Steven.

"I accidentally made two mugs of this, so I must have known you were coming!" You cringed at how isolated that sentence made you feel, but Steven's shaking hands wrapping around the mug and soaking up its warmth helped to put you at ease.

"You're too kind to me, love. I'm sorry to interrupt your private Christmas, I know you were looking forward to a bit of alone time this year."

"To be honest, the alone time got old pretty quickly. I'm really glad you stopped by, I could use the company. But, and I hope this doesn't sound rude, why did you stop by Steven?"

"Oh right of course! Sorry, got a bit carried away making myself at home there. I just wanted to give you something." Steven blushed as he set down his cup and rushed back to his coat, pulling a little envelope topped with a bow out of the pocket. "This is for you." He presented it proudly, watching in eager anticipation as you carefully unsealed it and slid out the little card.

"A gift card for my favourite coffee shop? That's so sweet Steven, thank you! I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, but I really appreciate this." It never ceased to amaze you just how thoughtful he could be, and just how closely he listened to everything you had to say.

"Well this might be something you could do for me. But only if you want! Um, I wanted to ask if you would ever want to go for a coffee with me some time? I really like talking to you, and seeing you, and spending time with you, and I know I only ever do it when you're working and that can make it tricky for us to talk too much, so I wanted to ask you on a proper date in the new year? But also you don't have to say yes, I got you the gift card so I could still technically buy you a coffee even if you don't want to go and get it with me. Which would be fine. But I would really like to go with you.." You could see the desperate panic building in his eyes as he went back and forth on the sentiment, hands wringing frantically as he tried to get the words out even though he couldn't remember anything he'd prepared every time he opened his mouth. You worried if you let him talk much longer he'd end up blue in the face or sprinting for the door, so setting the card down on the table, you figured out one way to shut him up and answer his question at the same time.

One hand landed gently on the side of his face, thumb running across his flushed cheek, while the other found his trembling fingers. His lips stopped mid-movement in awestruck disbelief as you glanced down at his mouth before slowly but surely leaning into him. Your bottom lip met his, plump and soft and hanging slightly open, and then as your noses brushed, the cupid bows of your upper lips kissed. It was sweet and soft and his lips felt cold against yours, uncertain as if you might pull away on second thought. You gave him a second to react, letting the cogs whir in his brain until finally his hand squeezed back at yours, an arm wrapping around your waist as he dived in for more. His jaw tensed as his lips applied more pressure, chasing the high that came from finally tasting you, pulling you tightly against his chest to soak up as much of your warmth and scent as he could possibly consume. He felt almost drunk as he finally pulled away, resting his forehead on yours with a giddy grin, summoning a little more confidence to ask again,

"Does this mean you'll go for coffee with me, love?"

"It definitely does Steven." Your second kiss was interrupted by the elated giggle that crept past his lips, before he went to plant peck after peck on you, this outcome even better than he could have ever hoped a Christmas miracle would be. You caught a glimpse of the recently strung up mistletoe over Steven's shoulder as you pulled him in for a hug, smiling to yourself at the wonderful turnaround your evening had had. You could feel Steven's grin against your cheek as he muttered quietly in your ear,

"If you want any more company this Christmas, I haven't got any plans. We can do anything you want."

"This is great." For the first time tonight, as Steven wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, you truly meant it.

[snarky-art]

The Grand Mages, my version of The Major Fairies in my Winx rewrite.

The reason for the term Mages instead of Major Fairies is that they weren’t all Fairies throughout history and it isn’t a requirement that they be fairies either. The reason for them all being fairies now is that they’re simply the most common group of magic users left on Earth currently after the great scourge of death and purging magical beings experienced on the planet.

The Grand Mages are chosen by The Grand Council, the delegation for magical beings on Earth, which is now on Tír na nÓg presently.

The current Grand Mages are as follows, some with a lot of info (mainly Sybilla) and some with simple brief descriptions, including so e job descriptions, personal histories, believix info and general lore below the cut:)

Nebula, Grand Mage of Peace. Her title is kept all throughout her history, not changed like it is in the series to war, for peace comes as the end goal, and to that with the Grand Mage title, if war is needed to achieve that, then so be it.

She is the second youngest, older than Aurora by about 900 years, born around the year of what we would call 400 CE. She is around the same age as Morgana, only a few years younger.

She would be classified as one of the Picts in the eyes of humans, born in what would later become known as the area of Scotland at the time before the Celts. As I mentioned in my first ask with her, I know there are issues of debated anachronism regarding The Picts and blue war paint, but it fit her color palette and I thought it looked cool on her so we’re going to say it was indeed a thing in this version of history, but as a result of the magical beings there mainly being the ones who utilized it.

As also mentioned in my original ask with her, she doesn’t always use her magic to treat her wounds, taking certain pride in her battle scars, showing them as a way to say “you see? No matter how many times you try to beat me down, I cannot be quashed. You cannot best me, I will always retaliate and I will always come back and so long as I am alive, I will win.”

Aurora is The Grand Mage of The North, a title given to the being who guards the Lovix transformation. She is the youngest of the current Grand Mages, being only 700 years old. It is her job to preside over the domain that Lovix is connected to (the areas of what are labeled as Fennoscandia) for if the connection to the areas the transformations were birthed from is severed or lost, those transformations cannot be accessed anymore. Her dedication, quick wit, and drive to protect and honor the land her master, The Grand Mage of The North before her guarded, is what lead to her being selected as the next one despite her relatively young age when compared to the other magical beings who served under the previous Grand Mage. This retired Grand Mage now lives at the small community that is located in what we would call Northern Sweden in the wilderness that she and the other followers dedicated to this cause call their home. This area acts as their headquarters of sorts.

Aurora is in change of overseeing all areas of Earth’s Northern Hemisphere and doing what she can to ensure general harmony with the energy of the planet and its environment, with her main focus being on guarding that area Lovix is tied to. Her primary way of combatting any serious issues humans intact on the environment and any disruption they cause is through the use of environmental influence, such as extreme cold, blizzards, long winters, early frosts, etc, causing things like famine, poor harvests, or direct death from the elements.

Diana is The Grand Mage of The South, her main location insulated to where she was born in what is referred to as modern day Bolivia. Sophix is connected to what is known today as The Amazon Rainforest, and this area must be protected with regard to the transformation for the same reason as Lovix. Much like Aurora, she is also in charge of doing what she can to ensure general harmony with the nature and environment of the southern hemisphere of Earth’s planet.

A strong warrior and combatant, she has resorted to more direct force as a tactic to deal with the issues humans have been enacting on the planet, doing what she can to still stay as hidden from them as possible while attacking, or leaving no survivors. Her and Nebula are close, a love of sparring and battle strategy being a large basis for what they choose to do in any of the spare time they manage to have together.

She is the second oldest of The Grand Mages.

Sybilla is the oldest of The Grand Mages.

Her wings are present here, but she doesn’t usually have them out, simply not seeing a need to most of the time.

Lady of Justice is the title given by those of the order of Tír na nÓg, and this was the title given to her by many, magical and non magical, even before all magical beings were either sequestered away to there, killed, fled, or managed to blend in with the non magical beings.

She is much more elusive than the other Grand Mages and despite her very present record in that of history, she isn’t one to be easily reached, only deciding herself if it is worth it, answering to no single allegiance, creed, nation, etc. She is included in the category of The Grand Mages mainly by the choosing of the other Mages, and only agrees within her own terms to be accounted for as such.

Parts of magical history intermingle with non magical history in my thing. Her influence is felt in artwork, dress, customs, and tales from Greco-Roman antiquity, and even the time before that, during the eras of The Bronze Age with the Cycladic, Minoan, and Mycenaean civilizations, and then even before that.

Much like the term irl, Sybilla is a term that simply means prophetess and sprung forth to give to the term sybil, those being what they are in our real world tales too. In my thing tho, this term stems from her name first and went on to become synonymous and defined as prophetess.

There were other sybils just like in old stories, these being followers of hers who wanted to act in her stead and honor and provide their services too.

Sybilla is the supreme head though, and is the grand origin for this.

She goes into stasis for longer periods of time so despite being the oldest, turning to stone by choice, this time acting a long sleep for her. When she awakes, it feels like she has only blinked. Sometimes towns would be built around her stony form, alters erected around her, offerings brought, pilgrimages made. And then suddenly, the mortals will see her “statue” is suddenly gone, and when she chooses to rest again, the cycle begins anew. Sometimes new statues are erected where she used to rest, legends telling that it actually is her and not just a statue, others believing it was just a statue put there long ago and someone decided to steal it so a new one must be placed.

There are many of her form in many places for that reason among other, her acting as a type of saint or figure to be kept to watch over places or people or whatever is deemed to need watching, memorabilia of her present in the forms of previously memorials statues, small talisman type objects, her figure on handkerchiefs, tapestries, walls of buildings, etc.

She has a history of intermingling with non magical beings far more than any of the other Grand Mages, even more so than most magical beings in general. With regard to that and her actions, she chooses to sleep when she feels she has done her job for the time being, overseeing and acting as whatever the mortals feel she is during times of great strife, whether that label be as a guide, an oracle, a prophet, or sometimes even a god or goddess.

She also chooses to rest after helping with grand issues with magical affairs too just the same. She awakens when she chooses to, whether that be because something in the ambient energy of the Earth feels off, signaling a great change, she has been sought out by a being, magical or not, that has made a great plea that she deems worthy, or she has decided she simply doesn’t want to rest anymore.

Her form appears through much of human history in the areas of the modern day Mediterranean and she has many stories about her weaved through old long gone told tales and legends, many lost to time, some still present.

Her aging is less visible than on Diana as a result of her sporadic periods of stasis, who has stayed active and present for her whole life, which has resulted in peak milf status.

She has no eyes, having had them voluntarily removed to be fully dedicated to her cause of what she deems proper judgement and action.

[jinx-xxed]

Ban Headcanons

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N: My first post with hopefully more to come! This is simple and something I’ve had sitting around for a long time! These are my own headcanons, please be respectful!

Content; NSFW headcanons under the cut

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

- Pansexual!! I don’t care what anybody says, he won’t care what you identify as so long as you can match him.

- Loves attention and cuddling from his partner and would definitely get sad if they don’t give him enough of it.

- Love languages would be acts of service and physical touch.

- Absolutely loves cooking for his partner since it’s one of the things he’s good at. Give him praise, he loves it.

- Doesn’t get jealous super easily but if someone won’t take the hint or you’re giving a bunch of attention to someone else then he’d get annoyed/jealous.

- Doesn’t get jealous easily just because he knows the person attempting to get with you doesn’t stand much of a chance.

- Protective, very protective. After what happened with Elaine, he doesn’t intend to let anything bad happen to his next partner and he’d be sure to protect them at all costs, even if they could handle themselves. He won’t take risks with this.

- Very warm, how else would you explain him wearing pretty much nothing during the winter? So if you’re ever cold just use him as a personal heater.

- Big spoon all the time, he loves being able to bring you close and hold you at night as he’s falling asleep. If you snuggle into him or something similar he’d melt on the spot, he loves when you do that.

- If you wanted to be the big spoon every once in a while though he wouldn’t mind.

- Adores it when he sees you get excited about something you’re passionate about. He thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

- Will gladly listen to you ramble on about whatever you want, even if he doesn’t understand what the fuck you’re talking about.

- Lots of kisses everywhere, your forehead, cheek, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach he’ll kiss.

- PDA, this man is not at all afraid to show how much he loves you and he doesn’t care who’s looking.

- He doesn’t have a shameful bone in his body.

- Actually a pretty decent singer, although only you’d know that. His voice would be gentle, deep, and soothing. If you ask, he’d softly sing or hum a tune to help you fall asleep. Only you would get this privilege though.

- For some reason I feel like he’d smell fruity?? It’s different, I know, but considering all the ale he drinks and his association with the fairies I feel like it makes sense? It’d be a good kind of fruity!

- Or he smells like whatever he was cooking up in the kitchen!

- Definitely likes having his partner mess with his hair. How could you look at him and not want to mess with it? Don’t you want to know how soft it is?

NSFW headcanons

- Bondage. He likes seeing you all tied up and helpless beneath him.

- Likes tying you up the most but definitely wouldn’t mind being tied up either.

- Marking, biting, hickies, etc. He may not get jealous easily but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want others to know who you belong to.

- He’s got sharp fangs, he’s going to use them.

- Lives to please you.

- He’d let you set the pace at first if you wanted but just know he can only take so much before he’s fucking you into the bed.

- Would be willing to try anything new that you would suggest.

- Loves hearing you say his name, knowing he’s the only one who gets to see you like this and make you feel like this.

- King of aftercare, he knows he can be rough and he wants to make sure you’re properly taken care of. A warm bath, lots of cuddles, whatever you want he will be happy to get you.

[randoimago]

hello! may i request kiyotaka ishimaru, byakuya togami, gundham tanaka and nagito komaeda from danganronpa kissing their crush under a mistletoe? or being set up by their friends to it?

Under the Mistletoe

Fandom: Danganronpa

Characters: kiyotaka ishimaru, byakuya togami, gundham tanaka, nagito komaeda

Type of Request: Headcanons, ❄️

Notes: You certainly may!! I wrote this as class parties so no killing game is mentioned.

Byakuya

He was going to stay home. When the idea of this party was thrown around the class, he wanted nothing to do with it. He was going to stay home and do paperwork or study some more despite the holiday break.

But no, his father had some people show up and he didn’t feel like trying to be the perfect son only to get one upped by his brothers. So, with a reluctant sigh, he went to the party.

Byakuya was happy to just stay in the back, watching over everyone. He didn’t  really talk to anyone - well he did give some passive aggressive comments when Makoto approached. Then he saw you walk in and made a face because he knew his heart and brain were going to be stupid instantly.

Byakuya just sighed as he grabbed a drink and began walking closer to you. His excuse was going to be that he had just gone to get a drink before going back to his initial spot, which you’re coincidentally standing next to.

As soon as he stood next to you, he didn’t get to use an excuse. Because there was giggling and he heard someone yell to look up. He did and saw the worst plant in existence. Byakuya just sighed. His heart was pounding, but he forced his expression to stay neutral as he just gave you a kiss before speed walking away. Maybe it was good he didn’t stay home.

Gundham

It was so obvious to everyone that Gundham would go shy when you talked to him or complimented the Dark Devas. Gundham had laughed it off when Sonia approached him about it, but the pink on his face was evidence enough.

Sonia was the one that convinced him to go to this blasted party set up by the class. He wanted to go to an animal shelter, but she said you would be here and you’re the easiest one to convince to help him to take over the world so he went. Or that’s the excuse he used.

Gundham tried to stay away from you because he knows how foolish his heart is when you’re near. But Sonia, decided to still be annoying - he does treasure her friendship, but he wishes she would stop trying to unintentionally kill him - went to bring you over.

Gundham continued with trying to impress you with his dark magic as you talked and seemed genuinely happy to talk to him. He didn’t even notice Sonia had left to talk to some others about moving around the decorations.

It wasn’t until he saw the stick with the blasted plant tied around it that he realized what was happening. Sonia had convinced Kazuichi to use a drone to get it above your heads and now Gundham was stuttering and stumbling. You just reached up to cup his face, making him melt, and gave him a quick kiss. He ended up broken after that.

Ishimaru

A party was suggested by the class and Ishimaru couldn’t agree more. It’d be a great way for the class to bond and a good way to destress so everyone can be more refreshed for when school picks up again.

Ishimaru was happy to divvy up tasks and help with preparations. He thought it’d be best for everyone to be grouped into pairs to get things done quicker. It was a nice coincidence that you and him ended up in the same group.

You and Ishimaru had gone to get some decorations. He didn’t want anything to be too over the top, but you were talking to him that some fairy lights wouldn’t be that bad. The two of you got to the supply closet and opened it, only to see how dusty it is since most of the decor is used for winter only so no one has gone through it in a while.

You two went to work trying to clean things off and decide rather to take it with you, when he noticed a plant on a higher shelf. Ishimaru has seen it used around this time, but had no idea what it was. He motioned you over to see and you seemed to get flustered, which flustered him because of you being cute. Then you explained the plant to him.

Ishimaru went stiff because how was he supposed to know that!? He immediately went to stating that you don’t have to do anything under the plant, but it’s bad to break tradition, but also if you don’t want to - you cut him off with a kiss. Ishimaru was stunned as you reached up to grab the plant from the shelf and gave him a smile, stating that it’d be useful later. Ishimaru also ended up broken.

Komaeda

This day has been absolute hell for Komaeda. First it began snowing and all his winter clothes were dirty and needed washed. Then the sidewalks were real icy since no one cleaned them up so he was slipping and falling a lot.

He almost wanted to stay home instead of go to this party for the class. But he decided to go just to see the hope and happiness on everyone’s face when things went their way. He’ll suffer as long as the others are happy.

Komaeda shows up and he immediately runs into you in the doorway. He can’t help but wince at the idea that he ended up hurting you (and he also felt a bit of pain) cause you didn’t seem to notice him at all so you ran into him at full speed.

You started apologizing and he was ready to wave you off when he just so happened to look above the two of you. He cut you off accidentally by saying, “huh”. You looked up too and saw the plant.

It was silent between you two for a moment before you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

[aspoonofsugar]

Chemical Weddings: White Knight

Here it comes my second short meta on RWBY's chemical weddings. It is White Knight's turn! Feel free to skip the introduction, if you have already read it in my previous post (or if you already know what a chemical wedding is)

WHAT IS A CHEMICAL WEDDING?

A chemical wedding is a motif used in alchemical stories (aka stories, with symbols related to alchemy). It is a metaphorical union between characters and it represents two opposites coming together. Think of it as a motif that comments on a relationship and describes how it changes throughout a narrative. It shows how two characters' bond develops and how they integrate qualities of each other. Even if it is called "wedding", the union doesn't necessarily have to be romantic, but often it is. Like in RWBY's case.

RWBY uses chemical weddings to develop romantic relationships. How does the series do it? This meta by @hamliet explains it perfectly:

It uses some alchemical imagery (like plates from alchemical texts as reference)

It employs elemental motifs (water, fire, air and earth), which are keys to alchemy

It integrates other symbolism, like romantic subtext or fairy tale references

Both hamliet and I have already talked about RWBY ships and chemical weddings, so this short meta is just a quick review of White Knight’s ones, with some integrations.

Here are Whiteknight's posts, that I am going to reference:

Weiss and Jaune's foiling throughout the series

White Knight and Arkos (+ Whiterose)

White Knight's scenes in volume 9

White Knight's chemical wedding 2.0 by hamliet

Now, let's dig into White Knight's two (for now) weddings.

WHITE KNIGHT'S WEDDINGS

White Knight's weddings make use of this imagery:

There is a Mercurius (entity representative of change), who unites a man and a woman through impaling one of the two.

This is what happens to Weiss and Jaune twice:

In Mistral Cinder impales Weiss and in the Ever After the Curious Cat impales Jaune. Not only that, but both Cinder and the Cat make sure Weiss and Jaune indirectly hurt each other.

Cinder takes Jaune's heroic remarks and uses them as an excuse to mortally wound Weiss:

The Cat tricks Weiss into physically hitting Jaune:

These parallelisms lead us to two considerations:

The two weddings are inversions: this isn't any news because in RWBY the second wedding is always an inversion of the first. Still, when it comes to White Knight, this inversion is particularly through and it ties with an important motif of theirs. Weiss and Jaune are strong mirrors of each other.

Cinder and the Cat (our two antagonistic Mercurius) force Jaune and Weiss into specific gender roles. Both mock Jaune (the knight) and use Weiss (the damsel). This isn't by accident and it ties with the archetype explored by White Knight, aka that of the Anima/Animus.

MIRROR MIRROR = ANIMA + ANIMUS

Weiss and Jaune's weddings mirror each other in multiple ways. Let's see how.

Weiss and Jaune's first wedding starts with Cinder impaling Weiss and leaving her to die. Jaune rushes by her side and activates his semblance to save her. The whole scene ties in their respective fairy tale symbolism. As a matter of fact Jaune performs a miracle as Jeanne. Weiss instead gets resurrected by the Prince and crowns herself Queen Snowhite through the Queen Lancer.

Weiss and Jaune's second wedding starts at the end of volume 8, when Cinder defeats them both and reiterates their trauma. She forces Jaune to kill a maiden and targets Weiss to hurt Winter. She is also the reason why Weiss and Jaune end up together in the Ever After, where their wedding reaches its climax. In this magical world, Weiss guides Jaune towards self-realization and metaphorically has him fall, so that he can integrate Alyx and resurrect. Their interaction in volume 9 references another alchemical text, knowns as the Splendor Solis. Specifically, it alludes to this plate:

This plate has:

2 miners excavating a hill (a metaphor for making the stone from the prima materia). It is important that the two characters wear respectively a golden and a silver robe, which call back to the Sun and Moon

The Sun and Moon mirroring each other. The Sun is in the sky (air) and the Moon is in the river (water). They are opposites balancing each other

Eshter's story pictured in the frame of the pedestal. Eshter is a biblical character and the second wife of King Ahasuerus, who is determined to kill the Jews. Still, Eshter (a Jews herself) steps in, touches the King's staff and convinces him to let her people live

The plate's theme is the beginning (prima materia) of a union (sun and moon) through communication (Eshter's parable).

It is referenced here:

The Genial Gems create a giant white hill, which clearly alludes to the philosopher stone. Jaune and Weiss play the Solar King and the Lunar Queen:

Jaune is linked to the sun and masculine (gold), while Weiss to the moon and feminine (silver). They grow closer thanks to empathy.

In particular, their interaction is an inversion of King Ahasuerus and Eshter's. In the biblical episode, the King wants to kill the Jews and Eshter stops him. In RWBY, Jaune doesn't want to let the Paper Pleasers ascend and Weiss tries to get through to him (together with BY):

Weiss: Then why do you care so much about this village?! Jaune: Because I can actually PROTECT these people!!

Just like Esther touches the King's staff, Weiss grabs Jaune's sword:

Eshter's gesture is a symbol of intimacy and connection. Similarly, using another person's weapon in RWBY shows closeness.

In short, both weddings are rich of symbolism, but the first focuses on the fairy tale allusion, whereas the second explores alchemical imagery. This isn't the only difference, though, as the two situations are perfect parallels/inversions of each other:

In Mistral, Cinder kills Weiss to hurt Jaune, whereas in Atlas, she forces Jaune to kill Penny. Moreover, both times she negates Weiss's agency and uses her as a pawn to hurt someone else (Jaune and Winter).

In Mistral, Jaune and Weiss go through a crisis together, but they emerge victorious. In Atlas/Ever After, Jaune and Weiss lose, but grow closer as they come to terms with this defeat.

In Mistral, Jaune hurts Weiss because of his psychological issues, but saves her physically. In the Ever After, Weiss saves Jaune psychologically, but hurts him physically. Both are responsible for the death and resurrection of the other.

In Mistral Jaune unlocks his semblance (changes spiritually), whereas in the Ever After he becomes young again (changes physically). Both in Mistral and in the Ever After Weiss ends the wedding by unlocking a new summon. She conjures the Queen Lancer in Mistral and the Nevermore in the Ever After.

In Mistral, Jaune is led by Pyrrha towards his ideal-self, whereas in the Ever After, he is led by Weiss towards his real-self. Symbolically, he goes through two stages of the anima integration. From Pyrrha/Mary (devotion and idealism) to Weiss/Sophia (understanding and reality).

In Mistral, the resurrected Weiss unlocks her Queen Lancer, which is key to fighting Hazel. In the Ever After, Jaune integrates Alyx and is reborn after a trial of fire. Once he comes back, he is key in defeating Neo and the Cat with his plan to separate them. Both do not "win" the conflict, but are instrumental to its solution (Weiss through heart and Jaune through mind).

In general, both times Jaune and Weiss make important steps to integrate their anima/animus, which their bond represents. The anima/animus is the feminine (anima) and the masculine (animus).

In Mistral:

Weiss integrates her animus and summons a Queen Lancer, an entity which is both queen (feminine) and knight (masculine)

Jaune integrates his anima (feminine) by discovering himself a healer (traditionally feminine quality)

In the Ever After:

Weiss integrates her animus by acting as Jaune's Knight. She summons her Knight while fighting side by side with him. Moreover, throughout the whole volume Weiss looks for someone who can guide her home. It turns out in the climax she herself is the guide, the knight, who leads Jaune and the others to the tree. As a matter of fact she is the one who teaches the others the theme of "acceptance".

Jaune integrates his anima by accepting he is no hero (no Knight) and by realizing Alyx is a part of himself. He faces her and integrates her spiritually (her vision in the smoke) and physically (her knife):

In volume 9, both Weiss and Jaune regress and go back to their stereotypical selves. Weiss is stuck as the damsel and Jaune rusts as the knight. However, they move on thanks to each other. They are reborn.

WHITE KNIGHT= REBIRTH

The focus of White Knight is rebirth (coagula). In Mistral they get a victory and in Atlas they get a loss. Still, both weddings climaxes in resurrections. Weiss is reborn in volume 5 and Jaune is reborn in volume 9. Not only that, but after White Knight's Ever After wedding Ruby herself is reborn:

This renewal of the self is celebrated by a full Nevermore:

This marks White Knight's second wedding as their nevermore wedding, which has them overcome grief through love.

NEVERMORE

Weiss summons her full Nevermore in the finale. This Grimm is tied to both Ruby and Jaune.

It is symbolic of Ruby's rebirth, as it is the first Grimm team RWBY killed together and Ruby landed the final blow. Weiss is able to manifest it because by the end her team is whole again and Ruby is back.

It celebrates Jaune and Weiss's wedding, as our Lunar Queen conjures it after her interaction with Jaune. Their exchange is the pivotal moment for Weiss in volume 9, as she helps herself by helping Jaune. She teaches Jaune to forgive himself and learns to forgive herself at the same time. As a result, she unlocks this summoning, which is symbolic of the self:

Its glyph is in fact a mix of all the other ones, as Weiss is a sum of all her avatars.

Jaune too makes a decisive step towards the self:

Alyx: Maybe it’s time for a change, to be the kind of man you always wanted to be.

He accepts Alyx and gets a second chance to grow up as a result:

His new self has a white streak of hair to show he has successfully integrated with Weiss (white) and has obtained wisdom.

FROM UNCONSCIOUS TO CONSCIOUS

There is one final difference between White Knight's two weddings. The first has Weiss and Jaune's metaphorical union happen unconsciously. The second instead has this process become conscious. Let's consider this:

In Mistral Jaune instinctively activates his semblance and Weiss unconsciously unlocks her summon. Their actions happen because of internal and unconscious changes that are not elaborated on. They are quick transformations and the wedding itself is quick.

In the Ever After Weiss consciously encourages Jaune. By doing so both characters find a catharsis for their unconscious feelings. They make them conscious. Similarly, Jaune can consciously face Alyx and integrate with her. Weiss's own summoning is not quick and raw, but it is the result of a process that starts in volume 8 (when she fails to materialize the Grimm), goes on in the chess fight (she has the wings appear) and is finally complete at the end of volume 9 (the full Nevermore manifests itself). The wedding is also very slow and distributed throughout two volumes.

This choice makes sense, as Weiss and Jaune's dynamic is about them slowly realize who they are and who the other is. They have been each other's mirrors since the beginning and as they better understand themselves, they can better relate to the other and accept them.

[sports-on-sundays]

Summary: ice skating with Arthur

Requested?: it came from my own mind.

This thing with you and Arthur- it's relatively recent. About three months ago you officially got together, but you've known each other for years before that, just as friends, really. Either way, your relationship- perhaps because you've known each other for so long- has been growing deeper rapidly. Which means your relationship is now deep enough for the two of you to start having arguments. Well, more like silly little squabbles.

The most recent one was concerning Christmas. Arthur had this strange vision in his head that he couldn't let go of that just the absolute best way to celebrate his Christmas with you would be to go ice skating. The only explanation to this is that you can think of is that maybe your boyfriend has been watching a little bit too many overly cheesy American Hallmark movies. At first you thought, No way. Only divorced millennial women watch that crap. But then you thought, But at the same time, it's Arthur. Who knows what planted his strange Perfect Christmas Magic Movie Scene In France dream.

You fought him on it because, frankly, you've never skated before. You know you'll make a fool of yourself and possibly injure yourself. Not exactly what you want to spend your Christmas doing. And not exactly your idea of romantic. Not to mention how much you hate anything having to do with being outdoors when the weather is in the negatives.

But he was set on the idea, and when your boyfriend is set on an idea, as you've been learning, it's hard to convince him otherwise. And finally he had taken your hands, looked you deep in the eyes as if this were the most important thing in all of history, and asked gently, "But Y/n, why? Why don't you want to go? I mean, really. We can bundle up, I'll stick close- it won't be that cold..."

You frowned, looking away, refusing to admit the truth.

"Come on!" he had practically whined. "Just tell me the truth! Isn't that what couples are supposed to do?"

You sighed, fiddling with your fingers, before finally admitting, talking quickly, "Arthur I've never skated before in my life and I don't want to fall and make a fool of myself."

He blinked in slight surprise, but then smiled. "Oh... Why didn't you just tell me? It's fine- I'll make sure you don't fall. It'd be nice to be able to help you."

Your brow knitted together. "Nice to be able to help me?"

"Yeah. Because you hardly ever let me help you."

So in the end, basically, he convinced you. And now here you are, sitting on a freezing cold bench, holding out your legs as Arthur ties your new skates up, which he bought for you. They're a shiny, slick black color with a red stripe. You can't deny- they do look pretty sick.

The two of you get up and walk the few steps to the rink, arms linked. The wind is biting, and despite the Christmas music playing and the glowing fairy lights everywhere, to you it feels like quite a bleak winter night.

But one look at Arthur's big smile and rosy cheeks convinces you it's really not so bad.

Then you go out on the ice. Arthur holds both your hands in his, staring at you with sincere eyes. And with that goofy grin, of course.

And then he lets go of your hands, just like that!

"Arthur!" you shout, your nerves on the edges as you hobble. He tries to take your hands again, but you fall down, right on your butt. "Arthur!" you cry again, in annoyance. "I thought you said you wouldn't let me fall! Now I probably look like an idiot- someone here is bound to have caught that on video. I don't wanna look like a-"

"Hey, calm down," he says, bending down. You have a passing thought of how much balance and awareness of his body he must have to be able to bend down that naturally in skates on slippery ice without falling flat on his handsome face. "I'm sorry, okay? From now on, I won't let go of you unless you tell me to. And don't worry- there aren't many people around tonight. It's too cold for them."

"It's too cold for me, too," you whine as he helps you up off the hard ice. You reckon that will leave a bruise or two.

He gives a dumb pouting face. "Come on, Y/n. You'll warm up soon enough. Let me teach you how to skate."

"I don't trust you," you frown, and you'd cross your arms if you weren't holding onto Arthur's shoulders for dear life.

"You should!" he counters.

"You let me fall!"

"I said I wouldn't let you go again. And that I'm sorry. Do you think I'm not strong enough to make sure you don't fall?"

You don't answer, because obviously he is.

And then your long evening of learning begins. Time is hard to measure, so you're not sure how long it takes until Arthur asks you, "Do you think I can let go? You seem to have the hang of it..."

But in a moment of self-doubt, you shake your head no and murmur, "No... You can just hold onto me, Arthur."

And he honestly doesn't seem to mind this answer. He takes you out to the middle of the ice, though, and slowly, you skate together. He then twirls you, which causes you to scream, laugh, and cling onto him, scolding, "You could've warned me!"

"Well, did you fall?"

"No..."

"Was that fun?"

You grin softly. "Sure. Yeah."

"So there was no need to warn you!" And suddenly, he does it again.

Soon enough, though, you're back on the bench where you started, shivering, slipping back on your warm, fuzzy boots. "A-Arthur..." you whine, you teeth chattering and splitting up your speech, "I- It's fr-fr- eezing...! I'm so c-c-cooold."

He's silent for a few seconds, and when you look up at him, you see there's a frown on his face. He turns and meets your eyes, murmuring, "Y/n... I'm sorry..."

You blink in surprise. "For what?"

"I don't know..." He's sitting on the edge of the bench, shifting. "I know you didn't want to do this and probably the whole time you were just pretending you were having fun but really you weren't and I should've just listened to you when you said this wasn't your thing so-"

"Arthur." You cup his cheeks, making him look you in your eyes instead of down at the snow-covered ground. "I wouldn't fake it or lie to you. It was something I genuinely thought I would hate. But it ended up being so much fun because of you. I loved it when you taught me. I loved it when you held onto me. I loved it when you twirled me. I know I've been acting a little grumpy, but the truth is, I don't regret coming at all. I'm so glad you convinced me. Okay? Sure, I'm a little cold right now, but I'll live."

"Oh..." he nods, that lovely smile slowly coming back. "Well..." He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him. He kisses your cheek, love, comfort, warmth channeling through his lips. "Maybe I can help keep you warm, huh?"

You smile out at the, truthfully, beautiful winter scene, and nod. "I think that would be just perfect, Arthur."