#I can’t find a single box of candles

[junranghae]

honestly might cry I’ve been to 3 stores and can’t find hannukah candles anywhere

[bookyeom]

pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)

nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars

they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe

You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love. 

As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or… 

“Mingyu?”

“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human. 

You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?” 

Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell. 

You know first hand what that feels like.

Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.

“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.

You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”

“I do,” he counters. “With you.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.” 

Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment. 

“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.

He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today. 

Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together. 

And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.

He has no idea, you remind yourself. He’s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.

You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.

“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.

“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.

You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.

“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.

“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise. 

“Like what?”

He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful. 

Your heart leaps into your throat.

You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax. 

You can’t.

“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”

You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.

“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”

You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.

What in the world is going on?

It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at? 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 

“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze. 

It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous. 

There’s no way. 

A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.

“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”

He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”

“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.

His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”

So simple. Certain. Sure. 

You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”

You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.

“‘You never asked.’”

“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.

“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.  

“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams. 

Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss. 

Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch. 

“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his. 

“Mingyu…”

He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You let out a giggle. “Why?”

“Because I’m shy.”

You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.

“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”

He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?” 

You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.

“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.” 

“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you write one where the reader is supposed to executed after Shibuya cause she’s in a relationship with Gojo. I kinda want it to be angsty, but you do what you want with this!

I know you said angsty, but all I can hear is bad bitch (the elders are REALLY angsty though lol)

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed but kicking ass instead

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Warnings: lots of violence, (y/n) takes no shit in this one, language, not proofread yet

This is kinda like a continuation of this fic here

The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor are the only thing that hangs in the air along with that deadly silence – literally.

You aren’t dumb. Of course you know why you’re here. Satoru is sealed, the only jujutsu sorcerer they were always afraid of. And since your husband is gone and nobody knows when or if he’ll return, these old farts seize their opportunity to finally get rid of you, to get rid of Yuji, to get rid of Yaga.

Well, maybe you weren’t exactly kind to them these last years. Yes, you were a pain in the ass yourself, threatening to kill every single one of them more than once. And with your husband, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time, chuckling in the background, they simply had no choice but to hear you out.

Not anymore, though. Not when your husband is sealed in a tiny box with no way out.

You play with a strand of your hair while making your way to the huge door that separates you from them, containing your temper and breathing. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the fact that they want to execute you. But Yaga, Yuji…There’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen, no way you’ll let them kill you this easily.

“You have some fucking nerve, calling me here after our last meeting. Didn’t I told you urgent enough what happens when you threaten my students?”

Confidently, you position yourself in the middle of the circled room, glaring right through their dark figures with your death stare.

“As if it’s not enough that I lost my husband in Shibuya while, if you even care about that minor detail, we all tried to save everyone in Japan from certain death. You know what would have happened if we didn’t fight until the very end, right? You know that we did all of this for the innocent people out there, right?”

Tame down your beating heart, your rushing blood. If you get angry, you might lose it all. And while Satoru supports you no matter what you do, you don’t want Yuji to look at you with those innocent disappointed eyes. No, you aren’t here to kill every single one of them.

But if one wrong word leaves their mouths, one word of disrespect against your beloved husband…

“You will be executed, (y/n) Gojo.”

You can’t contain a disrespectful huff. You, executed by those old farts? That you don’t laugh, that you don’t slaughter all of them on the spot.

“While you sat here on your old asses, my husband, I and countless others were out there fighting bravely for stranger’s life’s. Who are you to judge over mine? Who do you think you are to even consider you’d be able to take my life from me?”

Your threatful eyes seem to glow in the dark, hands clenched into fists so tightly that your own blood spills onto the marble ground.

“But all you care about is supremacy, isn’t it? Masamichi’s formula for creating independent cursed corpses, my infinite powers…You give zero fucks about the jujutsu sorcerers out there. All you care about is your puny selves”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Shut your mouth. You are no threat to us.”

Did you hear that correctly? That man sitting to your right didn’t just raise his voice at you, didn’t just say that you can’t hold a candle against them. Them, a room full of old farts. Them, who are too afraid to even fight. Them, who hide in this stinky room in order to protect themselves.

“Am I not?”, you mutter.

Within the blink of an eye, you throw one of your poisoned needles towards him, hitting his shoulder just how you wanted. Immediately the tension in the room is thick enough to get sliced, all elders springing up immediately.

“Come on, attack me, kill me if you dare. I couldn’t care less. Never forget that you are talking to me, (y/n) Gojo. There is a reason why Satoru married me and it certainly wasn’t to protect me.”

Oh, how much you miss him. What you would do to have Satoru back on your side.

“You are nothing without Satoru Gojo!”

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grinned at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

God, how much you long for his tender touch, how much you’d do for him standing right by your side right now. Not to handle the situation for you, but to know you’re not alone.

Are you alone, though? Your husband might be sealed, but he isn’t dead, let alone gone. He’s still somewhere out there and thinks about you, still supports you from where ever he is. No, with Satoru as your beloved husband, you’ll never truly be alone.

“I am enough to make sure none of you will ever see the daylight again if you insist on this path. If you hurt Yuji Itadori-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. All of the sudden chains fly your way, trap you right in the middle of the room in the matter of seconds. For a brief moment your senses fail you, darkness summons you like a veil. Is this your end? Are they really able to bring you down this easily? You simply can’t die like that, not through their dirty hands, not when you weren’t able to say goodbye to your husband.

Your trembling breath hangs in the air, cursed metal digs into your tender flesh. Satoru…His face appears before your inner eye.

“Hey, you aren’t giving up now, aren’t ya? You’re just getting started, babe!”

You are better than them, stronger than them, braver than them. You huff to yourself, thick fear and power starts pumping through your veins. Fall seven times, stand up eight.

“Let’s get the party started.”

Their puny chains tear like threat under the sheer force of your bare arms, setting you free like a bird.

“See this as your final warning.”

Your fists discolour the room in deadly crimson, lighten up their scared faces.

“If you ever touch me or my students again.”

Fire runs through the room like a storm, lights them up, lets their flesh melt away like butter.

“I will kill every single one of you without blinking. Every. Single. One.”

Their desperate screams fill you with satisfaction while you keep going, shooting your poisoned needles their way, letting each one of them collapse underneath the weight of their sins.

“I kindly advise you to never mess with any member of the Gojo clan. Even though I’m not my husband, I’m definitely strong enough to end every life in this room if you keep threatening my students, friends and myself. If you ever dare to call me again…”

You snap, sending another wave of cursed fire their way.

“Well, maybe not do that. Now excuse me, I have to look after my students and figure out how to free my husband. See you never again.”

With one last satisfied grin, you turn on your heels and walk out, closing the door behind you for what you hope forever.

Was this the right thing to do? Did you cross a line you shouldn’t have crossed? Maybe you put Yuji in even more danger, maybe Masamichi still gets executed.

No.

Stop your train of thoughts.

This is not the right time to doubt yourself. They want to execute you, want to wipe you from this earth without a trace?

“That I don’t laugh…”, you mutter to yourself.

“There you are, Gojo-sensei! I was looking for you!”

A gentle smile creeps up your face and makes you forget about what just happened immediately.

“Hey, how are you feeling today, Yuji? Did Shoko treat your wounds?”, you question, gently wrapping your arm around the pink-haired boy who went to hell and back.

“I was thinking about a way to free Gojo-sensei and I’d love to try it with you! Oh, your uniform is a little burned. Are you alright?”

His eyes dart all over your body worried while you can’t fight a wide grin any longer.

“That? Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Come on, show me what you’ve find out.”

Bonus:

“Can you imagine? They called me to literally execute me. Wanna know what I did?”

“You bet I do…”, Satoru mumbles to himself on top of a pile of bones.

“I kinda burned them to the ground. But don’t worry, I am almost certain they survived. Hopefully they’ll leave Yuji, Masamichi an me alone now. But I think that could have consequences, so maybe move your ass out of that cube a little faster”, you bubble.

Satoru lets out a heartfelt laugh. So you really threatened the elders again? No wonder he married you, that force of a woman.

“I’ll come back to you babe. And then we’ll  both kick their asses together.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[insidekatmind]

A sweet Christmas- Jobe Bellingham

It’s Christmas Eve, and the crisp December air fills your house. Outside, snow falls slowly, covering every corner with a soft, white blanket. Inside, the atmosphere is warm and cozy, illuminated by Christmas lights sparkling in every corner of the room. A large Christmas tree is decorated with golden baubles, red ribbons, and a golden star shining at the top. Candles on the table glow gently, and Christmas music plays softly in the background, creating the perfect ambiance.

Jobe Bellingham, your boyfriend, is in the kitchen, busy preparing something special for you. Despite being used to the hectic pace of life between training and matches, today he has decided to spend every moment with you, away from the spotlight, to experience Christmas in a simple and authentic way.

When you enter the kitchen, you find him focused on making gingerbread cookies, but with that concentrated expression, it seems like he's preparing something much more complex.

“What are you doing, love?” you ask, smiling sweetly.

He looks up and smiles back at you with his usual shy yet affectionate grin. "I’m trying to make Christmas cookies. I watched a YouTube video, and it looked easy... but it’s not."

You approach him and take his hand, careful not to get flour all over yourself. "Can I help you?"

Jobe smiles, clearly delighted to have you there with him, even though he's trying to make something simple. "Yes, please. I need help so I don't make a mess."

Together, you start mixing the ingredients, laughing when a little flour ends up on you. Jobe can't stop laughing when a bit of butter gets stuck in your hair. "Look what you made me do," he says, but with such sweetness that you feel loved in every little gesture.

When the cookies are finally ready to bake, he gives you a gentle caress on your cheek. "Thanks for helping me," he murmurs, his gaze speaking volumes about how much he appreciates these small moments you share.

You take a break while the cookies bake, and together you curl up on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket. Jobe holds you close, and you snuggle against him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His hand finds yours, and without saying a word, he takes it, a smile on his face that makes your heart flutter.

"I like spending Christmas like this," he says, his voice soft and sincere. "With you, away from everything."

"Me too," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "It’s perfect."

The cookies are ready, and when you taste them together, you realize they're delicious, even though they aren’t perfect like the ones you’d find at a bakery. But what makes that moment special is that you’re living it with him.

The evening continues with laughter, gift exchanges, and sweet caresses. Every now and then, Jobe looks at you with a smile he can’t hide, as if trying to memorize every single moment of that night. When the gifts are unwrapped, Jobe looks at you with eyes full of affection and gives you a small but meaningful box.

“Open it,” he says, giving you a playful smile.

Inside, there's a necklace with a star-shaped pendant that sparkles in the candlelight. Your heart tightens as you look at the gift, and then you lift your eyes to him. "Jobe, it's beautiful..."

He smiles, taking your hand. "I wanted to give you something that would remind you how special you are to me. Every star in the sky... is for you."

His words are full of emotion, and you realize that there’s nothing more beautiful than spending Christmas with him. His sweetness, his presence, everything feels perfect.

After dinner, he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. "Merry Christmas, my love."

"Merry Christmas, Jobe," you reply, your heart beating faster. And in that moment, all you want is to keep living these small moments of happiness, with him, forever.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Things I can Only Do With You at Night: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Card

Emma: "The sakura manju is delicious! It's so cute and round that I find myself admiring it for a while before taking a bite."

Emma: "Prince Kagari, would you like one too?"

Kagari: "Sure."

After watching over the shopkeeper’s belongings, Prince Kagari really did go around the festival with me.

It’s so much more fun—no, infinitely more fun—with someone else, and I could feel my spirits lifting compared to when I wandered alone.

(Prince Kagari is…)

(Hmm… I can’t tell anything from his expression.)

I stopped in front of a stall that caught my eye.

Emma: "Prince Kagari, look, there’s a ring toss game!"

Kagari: "Yeah, I can see that."

(The prizes vary depending on the score you get.)

(Oh, that little basket bag at the top is so lovely! But it looks like you need to get the highest score to win it.)

Kagari: "…"

(Maybe I should give it a try. It could make for a nice festival memory!)

Emma: "Prince Kagari, do you want to try the ring toss too?"

Kagari: "Sure."

(Ugh… I didn’t land a single ring. They were softer than I expected and kept flying off in weird directions.)

The prize I chose with my score was a bottle of colorful konpeito (sugar stars). Its cuteness made me forget my disappointment entirely.

(Still, Prince Kagari casually scored the highest. I should’ve asked him for tips.)

Kagari: "Here, take this Princess."

He handed me the lace basket bag I had been eyeing.

Emma: "Is it really okay…?"

Kagari: "I wouldn’t use it if I kept it."

Kagari: "From the looks of it, it’s well-crafted by a top-tier workshop. It’s sturdy and will last a long time."

Emma: "Then, I’ll accept it… Thank you."

The bag was well-made, with a smooth and pleasant texture. A small sakura charm dangled gently from the handle.

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "You’re easy to read. That’s something I’ve learned about you."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(I must’ve let my feelings show again.)

(There were plenty of other prizes he could’ve picked. Maybe he chose this on a whim, but… I’m so happy.)

Emma: "Ah…"

Suddenly, Prince Kagari grabbed my hand and took a bite of my strawberry candy.

Watching him lick his lower lip up close sent my heart racing.

Emma: "Please, just tell me if you want some!"

Kagari: "If I told you, I wouldn’t get to see your reaction."

(He means when I get flustered, doesn’t he?)

(It feels like he’s made this a kind of game… but still…)

When I stole a glance at Prince Kagari, his expression remained unreadable, though the corners of his eyes had softened just a bit.

(Well, if he’s enjoying himself too, then I suppose it’s fine.)

Trying to hide my own smile, I took a bite of the strawberry candy as well.

(Maybe I’ll switch out my current pochette for the basket bag.)

(Oh, wait…)

Kagari:  "What’s wrong Princess?"

Emma: "Prince Kagari, do you have a moment later?"

....

Emma: "Would you like to light some sparklers with me?"

After finishing with the stalls and returning from the bustling streets to the castle, I opened the wooden box I had taken out of my bag.

Emma: "Someone gave me these sparklers while I was helping with festival preparations."

Emma: " I was saving them for the festival day, and I’d really like it if you’d join me. If you’d like…"

Kagari: "…"

Emma: "Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "It’s nothing."

Kagari: "I just thought it was a little childish to suddenly want fire."

Emma: "Would you like a sparkler?"

Kagari: "Sure."

(He agreed! That’s a relief.)

Something about the slight widening of his green eyes caught my attention, but I handed him a sparkler nonetheless.

For some reason, Prince Kagari stared at it for a while before finally taking it.

With anticipation in my chest, I brought the sparkler close to the candle flame he had lit for me.

A small orb of fire blossomed like a flower bud, scattering orange sparks with a gentle crackle.

(It’s so beautiful…)

It didn’t have the grandeur of fireworks in the sky, but the way the sparks changed shape over time was ephemeral and captivating—enough to make me forget to blink.

(Wow, the sparks are growing even brighter and stronger now.)

Kagari: "…."

Emma: "Prince Kagari, your sparkler is beautiful too."

Kagari: "…Yeah, it’s mesmerizing."

(But his gaze hasn’t left me this whole time…)

(Maybe he prefers how my sparkler burns?)

(Ah, the sparks are starting to fade.)

As the end neared, the number of falling sparks lessened, and the glowing orb quietly dropped away.

Prince Kagari’s sparkler also went out, and the quiet that followed felt tinged with a certain melancholy.

(Perhaps I feel this way because the festival is truly coming to an end.)

Emma: "…I’ve found one more thing I love in Kogyoku.”

Kagari: "You have a low threshold for liking things, don’t you?"

Kagari: "When you leave Kogyoku, tell me how many things you’ve come to like."

Emma: "You’ll be surprised! Please look forward to it."

Emma: "Prince Kagari, thank you for accompanying me to the festival and lighting sparklers with me."

Kagari: "I just had the time."

Emma: "Even so, I’m happy that you spent that time with me."

When I look back on today, the fun memories come rushing back one after another.

I got to interact with many people from the town while helping prepare for the festival.

(Surely, the next time I see them, I’ll be able to greet them more casually. But…)

I suddenly found myself imagining the day I’d eventually have to leave Kogyoku.

The pang of sadness that welled up was even stronger than what I’d felt when the sparklers had burned out, and my gaze unconsciously turned to Prince Kagari.

(Prince Kagari is…)

(…He’ll probably be the same as ever.)

……

The next day, I went to a sweets shop to buy some dorayaki-flavored candies.

There, I heard a startling story from the boy who had given me the sparklers.

Boy: "They say, if you do sparklers with someone you care about, just the two of you with no interruptions, you’ll be bound together."

Boy: "That’s what I wanted to tell you that day!"

Emma: "I see…"

Emma: "Is that a legend everyone in Kogyoku knows?"

Boy: "Yep. If anything, it’s rare for someone not to know it."

Emma: ".....Is that so."

(If he’d just said doing sparklers at the festival brings good fortune, it would’ve been better but…)

As I forced myself to suppress the dizziness creeping up on me, my cheeks grew hot at the thought of Prince Kagari.

(Does Prince Kagari know this legend too? …No, he probably doesn’t remember things he’s not interested in.)

(And he isn’t someone I care for in THAT way, so there’s no reason to be flustered…)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "…"

Emma: "Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "It’s nothing."

●●●●●● Flashback End●●●●●●

(…Could he have misunderstood something? No, there’s no way…)

(......…)

(How should I react the next time I meet Prince Kagari…?)

…….

Shigure: "Hey, Kagari, why’d you have Emma help with the festival preparations?"

After the regular meeting, Shigure's question stopped Kagari in his tracks.

Kagari: "…It was a whim."

Kagari: "If I had to give a reason, it’s because I thought she’d find it easier to spend time here if she got to know a few more faces in this unfamiliar country."

Shigure: "Wow, that’s…kind of thoughtful."

Kagari: "Besides, if people recognize her as someone I know, they'll keep an eye on her out of curiosity."

Shigure: "Wow, that’s…heartless."

Kagari: "You didn’t know that about me?"

Shigure: "I did, actually. Well, having the townsfolk keep an eye out could be useful if something happens, so I see where you’re coming from."

Shigure: "And what about the festival day itself? After dealing with that enemy, you disappeared somewhere."

Kagari: "I went around the festival stalls with her and did sparklers."

Shigure: "Anyone else there? …Just the two of you?"

Kagari: "Just the two of us."

Shigure: "Ah, I see. I see."

Kagari: "…? What’s with that creepy look on your face?"

Shigure: "Wait, do you not know about the sparklers legend, Kagari?"

Kagari: "I don’t."

Kagari: "That was my first time even holding sparklers."

Shigure: "Ah, I see. Well then…"

Kagari: "Honestly, I couldn’t understand what was so enjoyable about it that she’d light up like that…"

Unconsciously, Kagari's jade-green eyes wandered toward the spot where he and Emma had lit sparklers the previous night.

Kagari: "…But I got to see something good."

Kagari: "I wouldn’t mind doing it again…with her."

Prev | Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[spicerackofblorbos]

Wishes | Leon S. Kennedy x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon comes home just in time for the clock to turn midnight on your birthday.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, any version of leon, suggestive themes, food (cupcakes)

☾ a/n ➼ hi it's my birthday and I love this man. I was talking to my friend about Leon surprising me with a cupcake at midnight and I made a joke about frosting being everywhere, if you know what i mean. and, well. here we are. NOT PROOFREAD SORRY it's 2am at the time of writing this.

☾ wc ➼ ~600

Leon comes home one night, earlier than planned, but still late for most. He sets his keys into the bowl next to the front door and makes sure to lock everything up before making his way to your shared bedroom.

He finds you humming to yourself, flipping through a book, and propped up against the headboard. You’re dressed in comfortable pajamas and half covered by the plush blankets that decorate the bed.

The moment Leon steps into the doorway, your head flicks up at the movement. A Cheshire grin pulls at your lips at the welcome sight of him, then grows even wider when you see the little box in his hands.

“Hello, birthday girl.” Leon says with a smirk, stepping his way into the bedroom.

As he does, he takes a moment to pull off his shoes and socks, throwing them into the corner to be taken care of in the morning. With two fingers, he tugs at his tie to loosen it around his collar, just as he sits on your side of the bed.

“Hello, working man. Is that for me?” You say as you shut your book and slide it on the nightstand next to you. Leon reaches over to you with the box and pulls it open so you can look inside.

Sitting snug between cardboard is a cupcake with light pink frosting piped high. You start to reach over but are interrupted by Leon tutting at you.

“Hold on, you’re forgetting the most important part.” He says with a chuckle. He reaches a hand into his slacks and pulls out a single white candle and a lighter. It doesn’t take long for him to push the candle gently into the soft treat and lighting it with a single flick.

“There. Make a wish.” Leon says softly.

“Hmmm. I don’t know, I think I have everything I need.” You say as you sit up now, the headboard creaking from the sudden loss of weight against it.

“Really? There’s not a single thing?”

“Well…” You pretend to think for a second, then lean forward, letting loose a single puff of air. The warm fire dies into a stream of smoke just as quickly as it was lit.

Taking the candle out, you pop the end that was in the sticky treat into your mouth, savoring the sweet frosting on your tongue. Leon’s blue eyes never leave yours, though there’s a lift in one of his dark brows.

“Well, what did you wish for?”

“Leon, if I told you then it won’t come true.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s just me.”

You poke a finger into the frosting and pick some up, eyeballing it carefully. Before Leon could react, you reach over and smear it on his stubbled cheek. His eyes go wide.

“What was that for?” Leon goes to wipe it with the back of his hand, but you grab his wrist lightly and stop him.

“I’m just showing you what I wished for, darling.” A coy smile lights up your face. With his wrist in your grip, you tug him into you, and you don’t hesitate to lick up his cheek. Now, the saltiness of Leon’s skin mixes with the sugary sweetness, and you can’t get enough.

“You better be careful what you wish for, baby.” Leon  warns, sliding the cupcake box by the book on your dresser. You didn’t notice that he had done the same thing you did until you felt something cool across your exposed collarbones.

It was only fifteen minutes into midnight, and Leon made sure your second gift would be given soon after.

[kinglazrus]

Truce 2024

@charcoalhawk Happy Truce! Technically, I have not finished editing, but I didn't want to make you wait too much longer, so enjoy the first third of the fic! I will update this post with the full fic and an AO3 link when I finish editing tomorrow.

Prompt: Danny finds out that ghosts can have (non-blood blossom) food allergies

AO3 link to be added

—

Danny winces when the flash goes off, and rubs his eye as Sam’s camera spits out the photo. It will take a few minutes for the instant film to develop. Thirty seconds before they can make out basic shapes. A minute after that for the colours to settle in, and then one more until it’s at full contrast. But Sam plucks the photo from the ejection slot, raises her eyebrows at the still-white square, and tuts.

“You ruined it,” she says.

“Did not!”

“Yeah, I can feel it.”

Danny leans forward to snatch the photo out of her hands, but Sam scuttles backward across her carpet to escape. He could give chase, but it’s not really worth the effort, especially when Sam ends up in the far corner by her tipped over box of scrapbook supplies. Too much ammunition at her disposal.

Danny twists around to face Sam’s bed, where Tucker sprawls with one hand on a comic book and the other digging through a bowl of popcorn. “Come on, Tuck. Back me up.”

Tucker’s stare skips from Danny to Sam before sliding back to his comic, and he says, “I bet you blinked.”

Traitor.

Danny’s wounded noise is punctuated by Sam’s sharp laugh, and she keeps snickering under her breath as she grabs a marker. It takes less than thirty seconds for Sam to mark the photo with the date, select a handful—literally, she sticks them to her palm first—of ghost-themed stickers with complementary shapes and colours, and add the photo to the next empty page in her scrapbook with the stickers as a border. She even finds that empty page in a single flip. Danny has seen Sam’s mother attack a floral arrangement with the same precision, but wisely decides not to mention it.

Sam then scoops all the supplies back into the box with a single sweep of her arm and zero organization. (This, too, is like her mother, who has a drawer of trimmers and flower food and floral wire all in a jumble that Danny glimpsed once two years ago, and he’s still not certain it was real.)

“It’s fine,” Sam says as she shoves the box under her bed. “It’s as good as we’re going to get.”

“That’s not actually reassuring.”

“Here, look.” She shuffles back across the room, holding the scrapbook out to Danny and Tucker.

The colours haven’t finished developing, but the image is clear. Sam’s room with its purples and blacks and the occasional splash of red. Her curtains in the background, with deep shadows in the folds where the light can’t touch. The candles on her bedside table in the foreground, with their perfect little flames, or as perfect as a Polaroid camera can capture.

And Danny, sat cross-legged in the middle of her carpet, the air around him fuzzy and dotted with static, eyes wide, one pupil stretched and pinched in the middle, the iris around it a bit too green for his human form.

“Huh,” Tucker says. He’s holding the scrapbook now, though Danny didn’t notice him taking it, or even realize he was off the bed until that moment. “Should we be worried about that?”

Tucker turns to the previous page. This photo is dated a week prior, taken at Tucker’s house. Danny slouches on a beanbag chair, attention fixed on the monitor across from him. His pupil is normal, but the static remains. It’s in the photo before this one, too, and the one before that, and the one before that, all of them taken about a week apart. It takes a good ten photos for Danny to realize the field of static is growing smaller as they go back.

“So, I noticed something weird,” Sam says.

Danny glares at her. “Wow, really?”

“Just, look. Remember that extra credit project you did for biology?” Sam swats Danny’s hand away and turns the scrapbook to the very first page, revealing a picture of him and Tucker cuddling at the zoo. “It was only a few weeks after the accident. I didn’t even see it at the time, but a few days later I was going through my photos and spotted this.”

Sam taps Danny’s figure. It takes a few seconds of squinting before he sees it—a faint speckling around his body, little flecks that could be mistaken for damage if the photo weren’t only a few months old. The photo next to it is dated almost a month later, and the speckling is much more pronounced.

“I’ve taken a picture of you every week for the past few months to keep track, since I noticed it was growing stronger. I didn’t really think anything else would happen until your eye changed last month. And the pupils are new.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness for that. At least there’s something new,” Danny says.

“And you didn’t blink,” Tucker offers.

“This is bad, right? It seems bad.”

“We already knew you don’t photograph well.”

“I think digital files of me getting corrupted is a bit different than this, Tucker!” Danny flaps his hands at the scrapbook. This is great. Perfect! Just what he needs! A stock of evidence that could expose him if anyone found it. Not that Danny doesn’t trust Sam to keep the scrapbook safe—she did retrieve it from a box under her bed in the first place. But Sam isn’t the only person in the world who owns an instant camera.

It was fine when, a few days after the accident, they discovered Danny couldn’t be photographed by typical means anymore. No matter how many times Tucker tried it on a dozen different devices, the image was always corrupted, becoming a wash of static. But Sam’s Polaroid still worked, and so did the digital camera his parents made. He nearly panicked the first time his dad took a family photo after the accident, but apparently the Fenton camera’s ability to “capture a ghost in its truest form” means Danny looks normal in either form. No corruptions, no distortion. Just Fenton or Phantom.

How long will it be until that camera doesn’t work, either?

Danny wraps his arms around his head and groans.

“It might not be as bad as you think,” Sam says. “Before the eyes, I thought it was just your ghostly aura. But your powers are a lot stronger than they were a few months ago, and I think some of that is bleeding through in the pictures.”

“You think that sounds good? I don’t want to be more of a ghost.”

“Do you feel like more of a ghost?”

Would he even notice? He opens his mouth snap back, but Sam’s questioning look stops him.

“You don’t look any different,” Tucker says. “No fangs or pointy ears.”

“I don’t have those as a ghost.”

“You don’t have them as a ghost yet.”

Sam snaps the scrapbook shut. “Tucker, that’s not helping. But I have a theory. In more traditional ghost hunting, people use photography to capture what they can’t see with their naked eye. I don’t think you’re becoming more of a ghost, but as you get stronger, your ghostly aspects show up more on film. Your digital camera still works, right?”

Danny nods. They use it often enough that he would have noticed something by now.

“Then this”—Sam pokes Danny in the chest—“is still your ‘true’ form. But if you’re worried, we can always keep an eye out for pointy ears or fangs.”

Danny wants to pick through the scrapbook again, check every photo for something Sam might have missed. But she holds it tight in her lap and keeps looking at Danny like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He’s so focused on the scrapbook that he doesn’t notice Tucker leaning in and making a peace sign until a shutter goes off.

Tucker lowers his phone and turns it around, his smile falling when he sees static. Squinting, Danny can only just make out what might be Tucker’s peace sign, and two brighter spots that are probably his own eyes.

“Aw, man,” Tucker says.

“Dude, what else did you expect?”

“I thought it might be different now since Sam’s pictures are. I still don’t get why that works but my stuff doesn’t.”

“Isn’t it some superstition that analogue technology works better around ghosts?” Danny asks.

“Your parents don’t use analogue!”

“My parents specifically design their gear to function around ghosts.”

“So unfair.”

Sam shrugs. “Those superstitions have to come from somewhere. Ghosts have probably been around as long as humans have. There has to be some truth to all those old stories. Like the blood blossoms.”

Sam isn’t looking at Danny when she says it. She’s turned away, returning her scrapbook to its place under her bed, so she misses the way Danny freezes for a second.

But Tucker doesn’t. “You okay?”

Danny forces himself to move, leaning back against Sam’s bed and folding his arms behind his head. “Yeah.”

It’s impressive how Tucker manages to say, “Dude, are you stupid? I know you better than that,” with nothing more than raised eyebrows. It’s also a bit rude.

Danny sticks his tongue out in return, but Tucker’s eyebrows don’t get any lower, and he has to look away or else he might crack. It’s stupid, getting worked up at just the mention of blood blossoms. It’s a flower. A couple petals on a stalk. Thinking of them shouldn’t make his skin hot and his chest tight and his tongue prickle.

He grips his knees and takes a deep breath, Tucker’s stare boring into him all the while. After a few seconds, Tucker says, “Okay,” and presses his leg against Danny’s. The warmth grounds him, and by the time Sam comes up from under her bed, his breathing has evened out.

“Think a salt line could stop him?” Tucker asks. He reaches up to the bed and grabs his popcorn. “Ooooooh, the great ghost boy, stopped by salty deliciousness.

“you said salt line, not salt...whatever this would be. Besides, popcorn would never betray me like that, no matter what Jazz thinks.” To prove his point, Danny grabs a handful and shoves it in his mouth. Buttery, salty, delicious popcorn. “I love you,” he says to it.

Tucker snickers. “Is Jazz still making your parents do that healthy diet thing?”

“Oh my God, yes, I hate it.” He sits up and puts on his best Jazz impression. “‘You need to take care of your body to care for your mind.’ It’s nice that she knows my secret, but I don’t think she realizes she doesn’t need to find ways to be useful. Just having her helps.”

“Maybe say that to her?” Sam says. “She probably feels bad that she didn’t mesh with the team. I get it. We’d be pretty upset if we couldn’t help you, right, Tuck?”

“Hm?” Tucker, as focused on the popcorn as Danny is, blinks. “Oh, yeah.”

“Okay, sure, but Sam. Please. She doesn’t let them buy chips. I haven’t eaten popcorn with salt and butter in a month.” Oh, how Danny has missed it.

“I bet there’s fudge,” Sam says.”

“Yeah, try and get my mom to stop making fudge. Or my dad to stop eating it. Jazz knows when to pick her battles.”

“And her enemy is popcorn.”

Danny nods solemnly. “It’s popcorn.”

[phantomspiderr]

Make A Wish

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Summary: a little glimpse at how each of the boys would treat you on your birthday

a/n: it’s my birthday🥰 and these thoughts came to me right before I went to sleep the other night

Marc

“baby, wake up”

his quiet voice would stir you from your slumber and you would grumble, whining when he continued to intrude in on your sleeping state

marc would slowly be pressing kisses to your face and neck, along your shoulders and collarbones

eventually you would peek into the dark room, surprised to see it’s still pitch black and you can barely see marc right in front of you

you’d gaze over to look at the bedside clock, seeing it’s only a minute past midnight

you’d only been asleep for a short time, nowhere near long enough

“sleep”

you’d whisper while pathetically attempting to shove him off of you

marc of course was still firmly in place looking down at you

“it’s your birthday”

he’d press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a big smile on his own lips when he pulled back

this man may not care about his own birthday anymore but he sure as hell cares about yours

you would hum still caught up in a sleepy haze

“happy birthday sweetheart”

marc would kiss you slow and sweet

his arms would cage in your head, fingertips grazing the top of your head

your hands would slowly move their way into his hair, holding him closer

then you’d be whining when he pulled back, your brain confused about what it wants more; him or sleep

“hold on”

then his warmth was gone from above you, making the cold of the room more noticeable to you

you’d move up the bed to lean against the headboard when you see a small light in his hands, curiously watching as marc lights a small candle

“make a wish”

your heart would instantly melt

marc would hold out the candle towards you, a huge smile on his illuminated face

and in that moment you can’t think of a single thing you’d want to wish for except this right here

but still you would firmly close your eyes before blowing out the candle

“what did you wish for?”

“if I told you it wouldn’t come true now, would it?”

you would press a firm kiss to his lips

then you would be pulling him back to lay down, forcing like you’d need to him to cuddle with you

“you’re really not going to tell me?”

marc wold whisper after a few moments of silence and you’d laugh

“I wish you’d let me go back to sleep”

Steven

would wake you up similar to how marc did with kisses and quiet whispers

"happy birthday, my love"

you'd wake up feeling all loved and happy, a big smile on your face as you stretch and wrap your arms around him to pull him closer

cuddling like that while he keeps pressing kisses onto your neck

then he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed

you'd both cuddle up next to each other and pick at the food while you discuss what you wanted to do with the day

even if Steven already had the day planned to a tee

he'd insist you go shower and get ready for the day while he tidied up the mess he'd made in the kitchen

once you were dressed, you would go find him just finishing up in the kitchen but what would catch your eye was the pretty little box with a big bow sitting on the kitchen island

"is this for me?"

you'd ask with the biggest puppy dog eyes and Steven would nod with a big grin

the little box would contain a stunning gold necklace with a crescent moon

and tears would instantly pool in your eyes

"do you like it?"

Steven nervously fidgeted across the island and you'd immediately reach over until both your lips met

"I love it"

he'd smile before kissing you again

then he would come around to gently put the necklace around your neck and he would be so happy to see the shiny moon sitting against your chest

something would 100% stir in him at seeing that his symbol on you

“thank you”

you would wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly

you’d stay stuck like that for longer than necessary, swaying together

Jake

you'd answer the door to a delivery driver holding a pretty large box

and now you're staring at the note you'd found inside

wear this, I'll pick you up at 5 J x

now it made sense why he disappeared, saying he needed to run an errand

inside the box would be a beautiful outfit that you distinctly remember telling Jake you loved but that you had no reason to spend that amount of money on

the gift made you smile and forget momentarily about how much you needed to scold him for spending that much money on you

but even still you'd be sitting waiting for him in the clothes he'd provided

Jake would of course show up at 5 o'clock on the dot

there would be a small bouquet of red roses in his hand

and he'd greet you with a kiss on the cheek, muttering something in Spanish when he pulled back to look at you

"where are we going?"

"it's a surprise"

Jake would open the car door for you, insist on holding your hand in the car or resting it on your thigh, then he'd guide you down the street with a hand firmly pressed to your lower back

"no way"

you'd stop in front of the fancy restaurant, the one you had read amazing reviews of and hadn't stopped mentioning for the last month

it was always busy, and difficult to get a reservation but here you were being escorted into the building and being seated right at the window

looking out in complete wonder at the twinkling lights of the city

Jake would reach his hand across the table inviting you to place your own in his

he would encourage you to talk, tell him stories of past birthdays while he wholeheartedly listened

he’d insist that you order whatever you wanted when you cringed slightly at the prices, he’d even insist that you both have the full three courses, insisting even harder that you deserved anything

“mi amor, you will have anything and everything. I will make sure of that”

[insomniac4000]

109 George Clarkey

Wear that dress- George Clarke

George was pacing back and forth in his living room, nervously running a hand through his hair. Tonight was the night. The night he would finally tell Willow that he loved her. He'd been planning this date for weeks, ensuring every detail was perfect.

He glanced at the clock. 5:30 p.m. Two hours until he picked her up. His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he quickly swiped it open to see a message from Willow.

"Hey, are you sure about the dress? It’s a bit much for just dinner, isn’t it?"

George grinned. Typical Willow—always downplaying how stunning she was. He replied quickly.

"Wear that dress, Trust me, you’ll be perfect in it. Can’t wait to see you ❤️."

Setting his phone aside, George took a deep breath and went to check himself in the mirror. Black shirt, dark jeans, and a blazer—simple but polished. He adjusted the collar for the fiftieth time before grabbing the small box from his desk drawer.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a small charm engraved with the letter “W.” It wasn’t over the top, but it was meaningful—a reminder of how much he adored her.

Willow stood in front of her full-length mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of the emerald-green dress George loved so much. It hugged her figure perfectly, with a subtle shimmer that caught the light. She paired it with simple heels and a gold necklace, letting her auburn hair cascade over her shoulders in loose waves.

The truth was, she’d never been with someone as thoughtful as George before. He made her laugh until her sides hurt, sent her random TikToks throughout the day, and always remembered the little things that mattered to her. But she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves tonight.

Just as she was applying the final touch of lipstick, her doorbell rang.

George’s heart skipped a beat when Willow opened the door. She looked breathtaking, her hazel eyes sparkling with excitement.

“You look…” he trailed off, struggling to find words that did her justice.

Willow smiled shyly. “Good enough for this mysterious date of yours?”

“Way more than good enough,” George replied, taking her hand and leading her to his car.

The drive was filled with easy chatter, but George’s palms were slightly sweaty on the steering wheel. As they pulled into the parking lot of a riverside restaurant, Willow glanced around in surprise.

“George, this place is beautiful!”

He grinned. “Only the best for you.”

The restaurant was intimate, with soft lighting and a stunning view of the Thames. They were seated at a table by the window, where fairy lights reflected off the water like tiny stars.

As the evening went on, they talked about everything and nothing—Willow’s latest painting project, George’s chaotic filming schedule, and their shared love for discovering new music.

But as the dessert arrived—a rich chocolate fondant with a single candle on top—Willow raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this for?”

George chuckled. “Not everything needs a reason. Sometimes, you just deserve something special.”

Willow laughed softly, leaning across the table. “You’re up to something, Clarkeey.”

George’s heart thudded in his chest. This was it.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand across the table. “Willow, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while now.”

Her expression softened, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “Go on.”

“You’ve made these past four months some of the best of my life,” he began, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of nerves inside him. “You’re funny, kind, talented, and you somehow put up with all my stupid jokes.”

Willow laughed, squeezing his hand. “You’re lucky I like you.”

George smiled, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “Well, I don’t just like you, Willow. I love you.”

The words hung in the air, both terrifying and exhilarating.

Willow’s breath hitched, her eyes wide. For a moment, George worried he’d overstepped, but then her face broke into the most radiant smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you too, George,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Relief and joy flooded through him as he stood, moving to her side of the table. He pulled the small box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the bracelet.

“I got this for you. Something to remind you of how much you mean to me.”

Willow’s eyes glistened as she let him fasten the bracelet around her wrist. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

They shared a soft kiss, ignoring the quiet murmurs of other diners around them. In that moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

Unapologetically Messy: The Process Behind a Creative Mind

Some words of encourage I had to write out during my lunch break at work today; for my fellow writers 🫶🏾

Let’s not pretend that writing is some serene, candle-lit experience where the words just flow effortlessly. It’s not. Writing is messy.

Frustrating at the very best times. To continue with more: chaotic, it’s unpredictable, and if we’re being honest, mine is mostly fueled by insomnia and last-minute panic.

Forget the cheesy Instagram-worthy images of perfect notebooks and tranquil mornings with a laptop by the window—that’s the fantasy.

The reality is far more complex and unapologetically messy.

Creativity Doesn’t Follow Rules

We like to think there’s a formula for creativity. Sit down at a certain time, write for a certain number of hours, and voilà, you’ve got yourself a novel. But creativity doesn’t follow rules, and it definitely doesn’t give a damn about your carefully planned schedule.

One of the most freeing realizations for any creative is understanding that the process isn’t supposed to be linear. It’s not a straight path from point A to point B. It’s more like a series of tangled threads, with detours, dead ends, and plenty of wrong turns. And that’s okay. In fact, that’s where the real magic happens.

The best ideas often come when you least expect them—during a 3 a.m. insomnia-fueled brainstorming session, or while you’re out doing something completely unrelated to writing.

You can’t force creativity into a neat little box. It’s messy by nature, and the more you lean into that, the more you’ll realize that the chaos is part of what makes it all work.

The Ugly Side of Writing

Let’s talk about the ugly parts of writing that no one likes to admit. The moments when you reread your draft and wonder who the hell wrote it because it sure doesn’t sound like the brilliant idea you had in your head.

Or the days when you spend hours editing a single paragraph, only to decide it’s still not good enough. Writing is hard—and sometimes it feels downright impossible…

But those ugly moments? They’re part of the process. No writer escapes them.

We all have drafts that make us cringe, scenes that feel flat, or characters who refuse to behave the way we envisioned them. The key is to keep going, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

You don’t get to the good stuff without wading through the muck first. The messy, imperfect draft is the foundation on which you’ll build something better.

So, embrace it. Embrace the chaos, the frustration, and the uncertainty, because that’s what writing is really about—working through the mess to find the magic on the other side.

The Pressure of Perfectionism

Perfectionism is my unique creativity killer. It’s that voice in your head that says, “This isn’t good enough,” or “You’ll never get this right.” My personal favorite that I repeat to myself all the time, “Who’s gonna even care enough to read all of this?”

It’s the reason so many writers stare at the blank page for hours, paralyzed by the fear of writing something that isn’t perfect. One of the things that sabotages me to this day, I’d rather write these words of encouragement vs. tackling my wips… But here’s the truth: your first draft doesn’t have to be perfect. It will never be perfect! I had to learn to just let my ideas pour out of me in whatever fashion necessary.

Taking a break and coming back to read it over again it’s easier for me to refine and organize my ideas into one cohesive plot.

The whole point of a first draft is to get the ideas down, to lay the groundwork. It’s going to be messy. It’s going to have plot holes, awkward sentences, and scenes that don’t quite work. That’s normal. That’s what a first draft is supposed to be.

The real work happens in the revision process, when you can take that messy draft and start shaping it into something better. But you can’t revise a blank page. You have to be willing to let yourself write badly, to make mistakes, and to trust that the process will lead you to where you need to go.

Finding Your Flow in the Chaos

For a lot of writers, for me personally anyway, there’s this constant push and pull between wanting structure and needing freedom.

We want the discipline to sit down and write every day, but we also crave the space to let our ideas flow naturally. Finding a balance between the two is tricky, and honestly, it’s different for everyone.

Some days, structure is what saves you. You sit down at the same time, with the same routine, and it works.

Other days, you need to follow the chaos, write when the mood strikes, and let the process be as unpredictable as it wants to be. Neither way is wrong—it’s about finding what works for you in the moment.

The key is to let go of the pressure to have it all figured out. Your process doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It doesn’t even have to look the same every day. What matters is that you keep showing up, keep writing, and keep trusting that the mess is part of the journey.

Embrace the Mess

So, here’s the takeaway: the creative process is messy. It’s full of ups and downs, false starts, and moments of self-doubt. But it’s also full of discovery, unexpected breakthroughs, and moments of pure magic.

The mess isn’t something to be ashamed of—it’s something to embrace.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to follow a strict routine, or write neatly within the lines.

Let the process be what it is—unpredictable, chaotic, and unapologetically messy. Because that’s where the real creativity lives.

oli’s symposium taglist 🫵🏾 you know you wanna join. let me know!

@slenders1ckn3ss @lucistarsfire @mai2themai @fond-illusion @p00lverinecentral

[diazheartsbuckley]

⛪️⬇️❤️‍🔥

These ALL sound so freaking good but I NEED more about these 3!!! 😍😍😍

Hiya!

⛪️ (Mob boss!Buck x Priest!Eddie

“So what made you come here?” Eddie asks, carefully sitting down on the pews but without turning to look at the man besides him.

There’s a long stretch of silence and he can see how tense Buck becomes, jaw clenching tightly as he stares at the lit candles at the back wall.

“I just-…” Buck sighs. He shouldn’t confide in someone else. He shouldn’t let anyone in. The walls that he has built around himself have been under construction since he was ten years old and his father went to prison. For that exact reason, he found it increasingly difficult to wake up and look at himself in the mirror, accepting his own fate. “I don’t want to be like my father”

⬇️ (The smutty mechanic fic)

The heat of a familiar body presses up against him, arms on either side of his box him in and Buck exhales softly, his eyes never leave the engine room. Eddie was trying to teach him just a little bit about cars but it had been fruitless since Buck kept distracted by work calls and stepping away from the car.

“Alright, darling, this right here is the ignition system” Eddie drawls, the southern accent and charm shining through in every single word. “So what we’re gonna do…” He stretches a hand forward, roaming around the engine and then holds up a part that to Buck, could’ve been anywhere on the car. “Is take this here part out”

Buck isn’t listening to a single word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, he’s just staring at his sweaty and slightly greasy forearms and his right hand that’s resting dangerously close to his hip. “And then what?” Buck breathes out as the heat from Eddie’s body disappears ever so slightly.

“What would you like to have happen?” A proud and teasing grin spread across Eddie’s face.

❤️‍🔥 (bratty probie!Buck x newly appointed Lieutenant!Eddie)

Inspired by the amazing @bidisasterevankinard 🥰

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t been entirely by the book during that car crash they responded to earlier, but hey, it had gotten the job done and everyone made it out alive.

He slams the door behind him as he exits the engine, the heavy thud reverberating in the garage and he begins to open his jacket, allowing a cool breeze to flow through the thick fabric.

“Probie!” An angry voice calls from the other engine, determined footsteps making their way towards him hurriedly. Lieutenant Eddie Diaz is front of him, as close that he can almost feel his breath against his skin. “What the hell were you doing out there? That is not protocol” Eddie tells the young man in front of him.

He’s got that devilish teasing smile on his face, a face that’s sculpted by actual gods and Eddie hated to admit it because he had to be professional, he had to be his superior officer, but the ass on that man? It made his mouth water on several occasions and he had maybe (maybe not) gotten himself off to the thought of fucking the attitude out of him.

“So?” Buck raises an eyebrow and darts the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, noticing how the lieutenants eyes can’t help but to follow it.

“What do you mean, ‘so’? You could’ve gotten seriously injured back there” The older man stretches his arm behind him, indicating towards the call that they just came from. People were watching them or at least keeping an eye on them as they stood face to face, Buck’s back pressed against the side of the engine.

The opportunity presents itself wide open (which is exactly what Buck wants to do for his superior officer) and a knowing smile spreads across his face. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again. You should find an appropriate punishment” Buck almost can’t contain his excitement as he watches a pretty shade of red rising to the lieutenants face.

Make me write ✍️

Gonna use this as my wip(s) Wednesday🥰

Tagged by @tizniz @actuallyitsellie 💕

Tagging!!

@himbobuck @hippolotamus @wikiangela

@wildlife4life @daffi-990 @jeeyuns

@inell @underwaterninja13 @bilosan

@butraura @bucksbignaturals @bucksbirthmark

@evanbegins @bucks-daddy-issues @honestlydarkprincess

@watchyourbuck @namjroon @monsterrae1

@exhuastedpigeon @extasiswings @spotsandsocks

@dangerpronebuddie @cal-daisies-and-briars @fiona-fififi

@steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann @rogerzsteven

@theotherbuckley @pirrusstuff @loveyouanyway 🩵

[willtheweaver]

Alpha-write

Thanks @agirlandherquill this sure does look interesting

Rules: For every letter of the alphabet, comprise a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

A- “All systems go. Let’s she what this new ship can do.”

B- Barely anything was standing on the planet’s surface. All around were huge craters and mountains of crumbled rock and dust. What water there was was as corrosive as hydrochloric acid. What kind of weapons could do this, and what kind of people would turn such tools of death on themselves?

C- Candles, beeswax, 50 count, the label said. So why was the box so heavy?

D- “Don’t move!” I stopped when I heard those words. Fearfully, I looked down at feet. One of them was right on top of a rune trap that was concealed in the leaf litter.

E- Everywhere was the sickly sweet smell of death.

F- Faith shall ne’re forsake me, when iron proves as feeble as flesh.

G- “Goblins can’t resist shiny stuff, you said!”

“Well if you weren’t a cheapskate and put some of your jewelry in the trap, we would have caught him!”

H- “Hake, extra crispy. Chips with salt and vinegar, extra curry sauce on the side. What does it all mean?”

“I believe that is his Friday takeaway order.”

I- Inside was totally different. Whereas the exterior was a grey and austere cube, the interior of the building was bright and decorated to the point of being gaudy and over the top.

J- Just lost contact with the rearguard. Radar has picked something up. It’s—[remainder of transmission incomprehensible] /end recording.

K- Kelp! If I could just make it…

L- “Ladies and gentlemen, remain cool, this is a robbery! Handover all of your valuables and no one—hey! You with the Nickleback shirt! That is not cool!”

M- “Must I remind you that it was your idea to drill holes in the bottom of the ship?”

N- “No man is more accursed than he who violates the sacred law of hospitality.”

O- “Open the door!”

“No.”

P- “Purple was never my color anyways.”

Q- Quiet. No wind, no sound of birds. Nothing.

R- Rust covered the steel beams and rebar sticking out of the cracking and failing concrete.

S- “Single malt, aged twelve years, heavy smoke with hints of seaweed. This was distilled in Islay.”

T- The order came up. Three shots espresso, ten ounces 2% steamed for exactly eighteen seconds, one pump vanilla, three caramel, one chocolate hazelnut, and the foam has to be cold and not mix with the coffee. WTF!?? I wanted to quit them and now.

U- Union pamphlets were everywhere. No doubt about it. Their meeting place had been found.

V- “Velocity is still over 5000 kph! We’ll burn up in the atmosphere unless we find some way of slowing down!”

W- “We’re with Witness Protection. You are in grave danger.”

“Me? I’m just an ordinary person!”

X- “X-rays can’t go through lead!”

Y- “You had to say something, didn’t you?!”

Z- Zzzzzzzzzzz.

“How can anyone sleep so soundly in a time like this??”

Whew! Made it through that one!

Tagging @diabolical-blue @darkandstormydolls @leahnardo-da-veggie @poethill @honeybewrites

@theeccentricraven @splashinkling @smudged-red-ink @mysticstarlightduck @eccaiia

@corinneglass @tildeathiwillwrite @fortunatetragedy and open tag

[mistressflorence32]

Christmas Presents in an FLR

As me and my slave spent Christmas in Malta we had to exchange presents later on. In this female led relationship, we both buy things for each other we think the other will like, and many kinky items as well. I think Christmas is a wonderful opportunity to use gifts to start introducing different kinks into your lives. I won’t make this a long winded introduction, you just want to know what I got for him and what he got for me. We’ll start off first with what I got him!

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS MY SLAVE RECEIVED

- Spiked ball stretcher (ballbusting training has been a very important aspect of my slave’s training so far, I see no reason why it can’t be brought to more of an extreme after so long)

- Sounding rod kit (as I have pointed out in previous essays, the final end goal for my slave is to be permanently locked in chastity with a sounding rod always down his dick. Others have been able to handle this, so I bought my slave a sounding kit so he can start breaking in his pisshole)

- New steel chastity cage (also for reasons previously stated, I feel in chastity his cock has somewhat shrunk and it’s time for his cage to be shrunk along with it. After all, he’s got a year of chastity awaiting him, it may as well fit)

- Secret VII Foreplay Game (of course the male options to this game were removed. I thought we’d be able to have some fun whilst reminding him that the pleasure is all for me)

- Sauvage (ever since he smelt it in a Selfridges my slave has been innocently trying to drop hints he wants this perfume, so I was happy to oblige)

- Dragons Dogma II (my slave is a massive fan of the original game so I got him this, something fun for him to be doing in his free time)

- Protein powder (naturally since I only expect the best from my slaves, he is in the gym every single day maintaining a beautiful body that most men who are into femdom don’t think is necessary. The reality is that you are here to please women, so if you can’t do that with how your body looks why do it at all? Anyway, as I was saying my slave is an absolute gym bunny and spends a fortune on protein powder, so this was one of his gifts)

- High heels (more than anything this was a symbolic present, as it instantly sparked the conversation about my plans for him during Fembruary, a month where the male of an FLR spends February getting emasculated and feminised. He was aware of its existence in my personal circle, but this was a full announcement and confirmation that he will be getting sissified for that month. And yes, getting high heels in his size was VERY tough)

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS I RECEIVED (FROM MY SLAVE)

These first three presents get a description, the others pretty much are self explanatory but still wonderful gifts.

- Sculpture of my body as a candle (using exact pictures of my nude body my slave commissioned a candle in the perfectly replicated shape to show how much he worships and adores my body. It was one of the most romantic gestures I have ever received from a slave and honestly made me feel slightly emotional. We may be an FLR but it is nice to have events like Christmas to remind us how we are soulmates)

- Adore Me Lingerie Subscription Box (I love a bit of lingerie, as you can imagine so does my slave! But to be fair I can have issues with sourcing the stuff I find beautiful so this was perfect for me, even better with my sub knowing he’d be in chastity this year, and that every month I’ll have something fun and new to tease him with)

- Demonias STACK-301 (such an important part of my slave’s training has been ballbusting training. For a total of three hours a week, whether it’s eighteen 10 minute sessions or all in one go. It depends on how I feel but these are the usual methods I use; Kicking, Punching, E-stim Shocking, Humbler, Ball Crusher, Ball Stretching, Ball Hammering. What you’ll notice is the usual technique of stomping is not here, and that’s because I haven’t had the appropriate boots for it. That’s why I was very happy when my slave bought me this pair of demonias. Just look them up and you’ll see how extreme they really are with a 7 inch platform powering them)

- Friars Chocolate Box

- Dior OUD ISPAHAN perfume

- Silk dressing gown

- iPad

- Afternoon tea experience

- Persian rug

Overall, this has been a brilliant Christmas and as far as gifts go I’m very happy. We’ve exchanged presents that are deeply emotional and romantic, but also some gifts which will keep us very entertained until next Christmas! Well I say Christmas, but in the mean time for me we have Valentine’s Day, Woman’s Day and my Birthday!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Starting to fall in love with your writings on RoR! I was scrolling through the post and saw yours! Can I request RoR characters who didn't care enough to celebrate their own birthday only to have reader bake them a birthday cake and make them something as a gift. Maybe she knitted them a scarf or make them a bracelet or stuff like that. Just wholesome fluff.

How I adore fluff like this~

-Buddha- A yawn escaped him as he leaned back against his tree, enjoying the warm sunshine under the swaying leaves, feeling a bit bored. When he heard you call out to him he couldn’t help but grin, seeing you holding a cake box and what looked to be a gift bag, confusing him only slightly as you made it to him, greeting him with a warm smile. You presented him with the beautifully designed cake, a single candle in the center as you beamed, “Happy Birthday, Buddha!” he paused for a moment, trying to remember what day it was. After being around so long, birthdays was something that he felt to be too much of a hassle to remember, but he couldn’t help but smile, feeling giddy that you remembered. After the candle was blown out, you handed him the gift and he couldn’t help but feel like a child again, opening it and finding a large lollipop bouquet of his favorite flavors of his favorite brand. The smile on his face was infectious as he quickly grabbed you and peppered your face with kisses, thanking you for what you have done for him.

-Loki- He popped up behind you as you set something down on the table, “Y/N! I’m here!” you can’t help but grin at his antics, turning to peck his cheek before his eyes go to the table, finding a strawberry cake with a single candle in it, and a beautifully wrapped gift. His mind drew a blank, wondering what this was about before you smiled, reaching up to pull him down to peck his own cheek, “Happy Birthday, Loki.” He froze, looking between your smiling face, the cake, and the present before he couldn’t stop the flush that quickly covered his whole face. He pulled back, holding the back of his fist to his mouth for a moment before running out of the room. You heard a loud sound that sounded like a deflating balloon at max volume before he returned, trying to make it seem like that sound didn’t come from him. Gods didn’t celebrate birthdays like humans did, mainly due to them being around for so long, it became a pain to track. He blew out the candle and immediately took a strawberry from the top, popping it into his mouth before he opened the gift, finding a hand knit sweater, black and green in color, his colors. For the second time that day, he quickly excused himself to hide his embarrassment over how happy he was. He made you sit on his lap when he returned, looking like he was pouting, and had to feed him his cake, failing to hide his elation.

-Ares- As soon as he entered the quiet room where you had asked him to meet you, seeing the cake and the present beside it, he felt his lips wobble slightly, eyes going wide as you grinned brightly, hands on your hips, “Happy Birthday Ares!!” he quickly had you in his arms, hugging you to him, thanking you as crocodile tears poured from his eyes, “You’re so sweet to do this for me!!” Birthdays was something that gods didn’t celebrate often, mainly because they had been around for so long and it grew to be a bit repetitive and boring, now gods only celebrate their birthdays on every 500th birthday. However, seeing that you had made him a cake and got him a present, to celebrate just another day to him, his heart felt like it was going to explode. The cake was delicious, and you end up killing the whole thing in one sitting. When you presented him with a gift, he almost broke down in tears again, but held strong, opening the gift. Inside was a teddy bear, dressed up just like him, he looked at you, eyes wide, like a child and you grin, “Press his left paw.” He looked down at the bear and pressed it, finding something inside and a recording of your voice, “I love you Ares!” Yeah… it took you almost a half an hour to calm him down after he started crying from your gift.

[dksw0rld]

12 Things I’ve Learned In My Time Away

As I stated in my previous text post, I took an absolutely, and I mean absolutely, amazing break from Tumblr which, since I very rarely  use my Instagram and I don’t have TikTok or Twitter, is my only social media. Minus Pinterest, but I don’t count that as social media since I use it for inspiration. I can’t express to you how much my life has blossomed in my time away. 

During this time away I: 

- formed beautiful new friendships 

- have had absolutely amazing experiences (VIP concerts, PGA golf tournament in the VIP cabana, attending high tea, dancing the night away, day trips, road trips, trying new restaurants, etc.) 

- let my inner child run free, healing her in the process 

- broke my leasing cycle and financed a new car (that checked off EVERY single box on my car wish list - which I realized after the deal was done, so I wasn’t even thinking about it)

- met a soulmate who teaches me so much 

- let go of the need for control and learned to trust my intuition and God’s guidance (a work in progress but I’ve made huge progress in this)

- got crystal clear on my goals and have a clear plan laid out to achieve the rest of them 

- rediscovered my love for reading, writing and cooking 

- cleared my skin of the small fungal acne bumps I had 

- accidentally went vegetarian (don’t ask lol) and found it was the best non-decision decision I’ve ever made 

- grew my hair past my shoulder blades 

I wanted to share some things I’ve learned during this time in hopes it inspires / helps whoever needs it.

1. When you live in intense self love and trust of yourself, everything you desire seeks you or something better finds you. You won’t need to seek it.

2. You can love yourself deeply and know you have healing to do and trauma to work through.

3. Listen and observe who and what the Universe brings into your life. There is always a reason.

4. If you don’t find the beauty, love and romance within your life, you’re living in black and white when the world is full of color. Romanticize your life, find the beauty in everything. Vibrate with love and watch how much more love and beauty you attract.

5. Confidence in yourself, kindness, connections and putting yourself out there opens more doors than you know. 

6. Never pass up on an opportunity to experience something new.

7. Take pictures and videos. Keep mementos to remind you of that moment in time.

8. Do not let fear stop you. Be scared and do it anyways.

9. Move your body because you love yourself, not because you want to lose weight, tone, put on muscle, etc. Move your body to celebrate yourself and give thanks that you can. In whatever way that looks like for you. It’s not one size fits all.

10. Love yourself enough to take the best care of your body. You deserve it. Love yourself enough to take care of future you 50 years down the road. 

11. Honor and celebrate your sensual desires. Turn the lights off, light candles and move and feel your body. Stand in front of the mirror and admire yourself. Have a sexy photoshoot for your eyes only. Wear lingerie underneath your work clothes. Pleasure yourself. Your sexual desires are nothing to be ashamed of. Just honor them safely and with your best interest at the forefront. 

12. Private over public. Every time.

I encourage everyone reading this to take some time away from social media, from screens and from the noise of constantly being plugged in. Focus on you, your growth and your goals. Discover who you are outside of all the influences you’re bombarded with and watch how your life blossoms too.

[4lexnilsen]

“happy birthday,  little cat,”   alex muses with a sweet smile,  holding out a stack of freshly made blueberry pancakes,  covered in generous amounts of maple syrup and whipped cream.   a single candle dancing in the light morning breeze as he steps out onto the patio to set the plate in front of his girl,  lips brushing softly against her cheek.   “make a wish,  baby.”   he encourages,  phone already in hand,  ready to record the moment she blows the candle out.   he still can’t believe that october 5th,  the best day of the year, is finally upon them.   alex has been planning this moment for weeks,  carefully thinking through every detail to ensure it’s nothing short of perfect.   he wants it to be special,  something that will make helena feel loved and appreciated,  remind her just how much she means to him,  how she’s changed his life in ways he can’t even begin to describe.   “i have a little surprise for you.”   he carefully sets a purple box with a small box adorning the lid on the beside the plate,  his heart beating so fast as he studies her expression.   his birthday girl.   his sweet angel.   inside she’ll find the very first american edition (one of only 1250 copies) of jane austen’s first novel —   sense and sensibility.   and a travel brochure of traverse city,  michigan.   it’s such a beautiful small town,  and he booked them a lakefront cabin for the weekend,  all she has to do is say yes and pack her bags.   his own are already in the trunk of his car.   “i love you,  @batheir.   happy birthday.”