It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...🎄
Feat. Lunch Lady Miru and her darling niece, Audrey Grace! 🥰 This is Audrey as a little kid again, she's 8 years old here and on vacation at a ski resort this time. Her fluffy unicorn backpack is back, and there are little silver bells attached to her coat pockets, so she jingles as she walks.
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grace stimboard :3
⛧ with birthday stims !
☾ for @wetcatschwartzy's birthday !
x | x | x
x | ! | x
x | x | x
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I don't even really like chocolate flavor or cake, but here I am with my chocolate cake and baked lays chips probably about to find an angsty valgrace fic
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pineapple + atsushi & any other character you'd like? <3
"Happy birthday or whatever."
Atsushi looks down at the table. There's a cake he doesn't recognize there. Whipped cream, cherries, and rings of yellow.
"What is this?"
"Huh?" Lucy says. "It's a birthday cake."
Akutagawa rolls his eyes. "I think he realizes that much."
"No one asked you!"
The candles on the cake are crooked, burning and dripping wax onto the cake. But Atsushi is perplexed. "This," he says, pointing.
Lucy blinks. "That's pineapple."
"Pineapple?"
"Have you never had--" Lucy cuts herself off and something akin to understanding flashes in her eyes. "It's a fruit. I think you'll like it."
Atsushi pokes at a ring of pineapple, uncertain.
"Make a wish and blow out the candles," Akutagawa says. "Before the cake catches fire."
"It wouldn't do that," Atsushi mutters, but closes his eyes anyway. A wish. Atsushi used to have many wishes: to escape the orphanage, to see revenge painted across the headmasters flesh, to have a life he could call his own, a freedom he could hold in his hands, a purpose to push him forward.
Now, Atsushi is surrounded by purpose, by people who actually care for him. Atsushi finds it hard to think of things he wishes for anymore. Everything he has is beyond his wildest dreams.
"Stop thinking so hard," Akutagawa says.
"Wish for Akutagawa to shut up already."
"Watch it."
Atsushi grins, makes his wish, and blows the candles out. They eat the cake together, huddled around the small table, bickering and laughing. The pineapple is sweet and tingly as his tongue. Akutagawa and Lucy look at him with a sort of reverence, a sort of sweetness of their own.
I wish to continue living with them.
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