#blue and white floral centerpieces

[grandisknight]

welcome to philo | jeremiah

summary: Jeremiah knows your flower order by heart, and you plan on repaying the favor in kind.

tags: nsfw (mdni), developing relationship, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), banter, flowers, exhibitionism, oral sex/blowjobs, feelings, jeremiah losing his mind, swearing, m!orgasm, facials, (1) xavier mention

wc: 3.0k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: first time giving jeremiah some lovin' and i have no idea how it spiraled into this but we are here :D

Soft notes of plucked guitar strings and accompanying percussion filter the floral air of Philo, marking another quiet yet fulfilling day at play.

Jeremiah enjoys these moments of peace, lost in thought with his hands neatly arranging a new vase of freshly bloomed marigolds. 

It still took some time getting used to, truthfully. A life where turbulence and struggles amongst the cosmos that once felt like yesterday began to dwindle in the lanes of his memory. The warmth of Linkon City was a form of domesticity he had the privilege of knowing. Though, it didn’t hold the same shine to the bask of Philos’ cobbles and fields.

Even so, he’s made great efforts to carry on since. Jeremiah believes he’s done well for himself, and his cherished flower shop is a testament to it.

He dusts away the nostalgia amongst the skirt of his apron, gloved hands rough at the friction when his masterpiece is finally set. The golden petals stood proud, a reflection of their crafter’s touch. 

A chimed ring accompanies the completion in apt timing, soft footsteps echoing soon thereafter. 

The florist straightens his back, puts on his practiced award-winning smile with a chirped, “Welcome to Philo.” He’s ready to roll out his customer-friendly and marketing genius spiel when he pauses in his tracks, eyes widening in recognition. “It’s you!”

“It’s me,” you wave back in greeting. Your strides make their way to his countertop, where he excitedly pulls you in for a half-hug. “Business hours slowing down?”

“A bit,” Jeremiah says, pulling back and a smile in his eyes. “Are you here for your usual?”

You nod, settling your hands along the edge of the cool marble. Jeremiah is quick on his feet, scurrying around the tiles and swiping at certain pots. A handful of fine greenery, baby breaths for a splash of white decor, and the main star—pale blue florets with a ringlet of yellow blossomed in the center, each of the three pieces beautifully nurtured and bright. Bunches nestled in his arms like a newborn, he slides past with a playful wink and lays them before you.

“You’re the only one I know who still orders these kinds of flowers,” he comments, reaching for a pair of scissors. Procured from his hip pocket, he carefully snips at the excess leaves, green plates of flora fluttering to the floor.

“And you’re the only one who knows how to care for them properly.” You prop your chin into your palm, observing him in interest. The florist was in a world of his own. It was truly admirable to see someone so dedicated to a craft as intimate as floral arrangements. 

“The best in Linkon, no one does it like you.”

Jeremiah chuckles, laying out a pattern of baby breaths and myrtle atop a clean sheet of parchment. “I’m flattered. Don’t let the other flower shops hear, surely they’ll come and be nothing but a pain in my ass.”

You laugh with him at the thought, shaking your head. “Nothing wrong with keeping your competition on their toes.” 

Taking one of the three blue focal pieces in hand, you carefully push at its petals, silken soft to the touch. It was fascinating, a small piece of life so fragile yet present in your grasp.

By the time Jeremiah notices his last piece was missing—presently doted for in-between your fingers—the bouquet was only a centerpiece and hard string away from being complete. He clears his throat, noticing you jump in surprise, before a sheepish smile dressed itself across your expressions alike.

“Ah, right. Sorry,” you hold out the flower to him, a bridge from your heart to his. “Didn’t mean to interrupt the master at work.”

With a faked tone of lower cadence, Jeremiah offers a generous, “But of course, you are forgiven.” His best attempt of mimicking a kind and benevolent ruler, though it cracks towards the end into his regular voice.

You half-curtsy once the flora was out of your hands, raising an imaginative skirt in the air. “Oh, how gracious of you, good sir.”

He lets out a softer chuckle, before quickly wrapping the composition into a perfect bundle. A loop of string later, he lifts the flowers tenderly, one hand at the base and the other underneath the bedding of petals.

“For you, my liege,” Jeremiah jokes, though it strums his heartstrings when you let out the sweetest laugh. He could feel a flush tickle his neck, to which he holds in an odd form of defense with a clammy hand. The other is still outstretched, waiting for you to accept his graces.

To which you happily take in, eyes wide in appreciation and the flora reflecting in its glimmers. “Thanks, Jer,” you speak into the petals, inhaling them calmly and enjoying their fresh scent. “I owe you one.”

“No, no,” Jeremiah shakes his head, hands in his hips in turn. “I’ve told you before. These are always on the house for you, just as long as you swing by.”

“Mm.” You hum, before gently placing down the bouquet to the countertop. “Still, it doesn’t feel right. To just always take some of your flowers with no real payment in return.” 

You were sure that wasn’t a viable business practice either. It’s been this way ever since you were first introduced to one another; you’d say hello, and Jeremiah would send you off at the end of your visit with a smile and selection of budding flora in tow.

“That’s—“ Oh, the words lodge themselves in his throat when he feels something warm touch him. It would’ve scared the wits out of Jeremiah, if it weren’t for the gaze that found itself on your hand—neatly perched atop of his. 

Jeremiah stumbles in his response. “That’s, ah, fine?” 

Fine? He wasn’t sure when it turned into a question, nor when did the air in his greenery space become so… impeccably stuffy. But Jeremiah just stares at your hand, processing it all before sparing you a glance.

“You don’t sound so sure,” you tease, tapping the pads of your fingers against his knuckles. In a blink, you’ve met him halfway across the counter once more—though this time, your noses were only a hair away and he could see his surprised expression so clearly in your mischievous eyes.

Your voice lowers some, paying attention to the growing flush that stains his cheeks. “Let me pay you, Jeremiah.”

“I—Wow, you’re pretty,” he blurts out. 

He meant pretty close, though ‘pretty’ wasn’t exactly wrong either. The sunlight dripping in from his ceiling rooftop painted a halo around the crown of your head, shadows gently shaping your face into a newly bloomed sunflower. More than just pretty, he thinks to himself. An absolute angel, even.

Jeremiah bites his lower lip in quick realization and embarrassment, though it only curls the edges of your smile further. “Thank you,” you say, tilting your head in thought. “So, can I take that as a yes?”

He considers this. “I have a feeling that if I say no, we’ll just be going in circles,” he says, more so to himself than in answer. Thinking out loud, letting the ideas process in the moment they occur.

“Maybe,” you shrug. “Maybe not. I promise I’m flexible, but I just think…”

You manage to turn his hand over, and much to his surprise, he naturally accepts the way your fingers slide into his. Warm, very, very warm. And soft. But more importantly, your hand is entwined with his—and he likes it. Jeremiah likes the feeling of holding your warm, soft hand.

When you squeeze his hand, it pulls him out of his thoughts and back to your words of, “You deserve to be compensated and taken care of, Jer.”

“I do?” He sounds almost bewildered at the fact.

“Of course,” you say, stating the obvious to his oblivion. 

Slowly, you bring your closed hands to your lips, looking past your lashes and enjoying the sight of rouge blush saturating his skin. A kiss as soft as those silken petals touches his knuckles before you pull away. Even through the fine leather covering his hands, he feels their presence.

It would be fine, Jeremiah thinks, if he passes away at this moment. If he lets the heavenly graces take him away after receiving a piece of love so tender, from someone he’s grown to adore—it would be fine.

And also, because it has his mind running a hundred miles per hour at the thought of wanting all of that and more. Put him out of his misery to save him the embarrassment of these heated feelings immediately at the forefront of his mind.

“Let me pay you,” you repeat, a quiet intent slowly sinking into your words. “Please?”

Knowing his voice would betray him somehow, Jeremiah only nods and says, “Alright.”

—

Jeremiah is a mess.

He normally prides himself on being organized, keeping things in shape and surfaces clean. After every bouquet, he would sweep the floors and recycle leftovers—even spray down the marble with disinfectant and wipe until it was sparkling clean. Like clockwork, he’d dust his skilled hands across the skirt of his apron and feel that it was another successful day. Whistling while he works, keeping up a tune to the radio or one from his imagination—Jeremiah’s day normally went like this.

Today had almost everything on that agenda. What would he call his, though? A special occasion, probably?

Those very same hands, now gloveless, found themselves tangling and toying through your hair. The lips that push together in an airy shrill of whistles are currently? Pushing out quieted moans of your name, head lolling back from the ecstasy of it.

Jeremiah shouldn’t be doing this. 

Uniform in disarray as much as his curls of auburn, his back practically engraving the countertop’s edge into his skin from how hard he was pushing against it. The zipper of his pants long forgotten, the fabric pooling around his ankles.

Oh, but Jeremiah realizes that there’s something so ungodly pleasant about seeing your lips hover above his cock. Tongue flat against his length that currently hides between a fine layer of cotton boxers. The fabric ran a shade darker from where the heat of your touch traces it, leaving quite an impression.

Jeremiah is a mess, at your disposal, and can’t deny that a part of him screams in joy.

“You,” he breathes out, somehow finding his voice amidst the lustful sighing. “I told you, we—we could’ve done this in the backroom.”

“And I said I wanted you here, Jer.” You press a meaningful kiss to his lower head, smiling when it twitches at your touch. A firmer press allows the stained spot to push past beads of pre to your mouth, and you hum at the tanginess through soiled cotton. “Besides, no one’s going to see us, yeah?”

“I-I mean, yes.” Jeremiah confirms as much, making an effort to conceal the shop with a wave of energy. 

To the naked eye, the glass interior of his shop houses his well-grown plants and marble befitting of its owner. To Jeremiah’s wide gaze, he could only watch the way you make your way downwards, kissing and caressing wherever possible.

“But it’s not going to last, and ah—hah, shit—“ He hisses when your hand squeezes along his length, and he could feel your nails lightly drag along the underside. “I can’t concentrate when you’re down there like this.”

It’s not the first time he’s managed to conceal his shop from the outsider looking in. Sometimes it was required, especially when Xavier tumbled in and out as he pleased, evol abilities damned and secrets afloat. It was, however, the first time he’s had to pull strings just so no one would see the show playing out at the reception countertop. 

A shiver ran down his spine whenever his eyes made contact with a passerby—fleeting, and wondering if they could somehow see past the veil. See how there was an angel between his legs, and that he enjoyed it.

You let out an almost pitiful hum, though the sympathy differs from the fingers dipping past his waistband. “Mm? I think you can, don’t underestimate yourself.”

The thought was kind, but even Jeremiah had his limits. His hips cant on instinct when your unblocked warmth curls around his length, only growing with need by the second. Swiftly, and much to his relief, you free him from those confines.

“Wow, Jer. You’re real pretty,” you coo, delicately raising your fingers from the cusp of his base to the curved head of his cock. “Hard just from looking outside?”

“Wha—No, I just,” he stutters, but even he can’t deny it. One glance to beyond the glass and back to your knowing smirk has him weak in the heart but strong where it matters. “Just keeping a lookout,” he strains.

Flush and stiff from the newly exposed air, you take your time in stroking him. An occasional press to the skin just below his tip has his knees buckling. He fit perfectly into the palm of your hand, a beautiful sight and weight to behold.

“Maybe let down the curtain then? I’m sure everyone would love to see their precious florist be deflowered like this,” you tease lightly.

‘Someone might see’ rings like blaring sirens in his mind—and for a moment, he seriously considers it. Jeremiah’s blush only worsens, the thought doing a number to his senses. He dares to raise a witty quip in return, but it melts into a gasp when your lips seal themselves over his leaking slit.

You have the gall, he thinks, to hum around his cock this way. And look devastatingly stunning too, eyes round in pleasure, all for him to see. To feel, to watch how you take care of him. 

His fingers cradling your head tighten some, though nothing too heavy-handed. Whether it is your doing or his, you make a slow descent down his length, jaw slacking to take in as much of him as you could.

If he thought your hands were warm, your mouth was an oven that neatly shaped and swallowed around him. He feels you huff, before firmly rubbing your nose to his abdomen and a garbled noise rouses from you.

“Don’t force yourself,” Jeremiah pants, gently leading you away from his nestled cock. 

You allow him to do as much, popping his head from your lips and smiling. The lightest string of saliva pulls at your bottom lip and stays with him—Jeremiah can only stare, entranced. 

“On the contrary,” you say, a slight grit to your voice from the loss. “I’m doing all of this because I want to.”

Room for argument falls naught when you return to his erection, and that devilish warmth warps his senses once more. With every bob of your head, Jeremiah’s wanton moans only grow in volume. You search for his hand—which, currently gripped the counter for dear life—and bring it to rest around your throat in permission. 

His fingers twitch over the skin, before realizing he could feel it. No way, no way. Curiously, Jeremiah presses his fingers closer to find that his cock occasionally brushed them, the shape all familiar and busied down your throat. It tingles, feels way too good, especially when you hum in delight.

“Oh, I’m about to—yeah, yeah,” Jeremiah rambles, abdomen clenching at the rush of searing heat spreading throughout. “Gonna cum, come, shit—!”

In the heat of the moment, his hand draws you away from his cock, throbbing and welcoming warm streams of his undoing. You work him through the spurts of release, leaning down with an open mouth to capture what you could. Some of it lands on your tongue, hanging off of the curves—a majority stuck to your cheeks and painted them in a viscous white, smooth and sticky all the same.

Jeremiah feels like a leafless stem, waning in the wind and completely blissed out by the time he comes to. His fingers massage your skull gently, and his half-lidded gaze blows wide when he realizes what an absolute mess he’s truly made this time.

“Oh, sorry, let me get that.“ He searches for his apron, only a few inches away and neatly crumpled in a pile. The pockets, somewhere in there is—ah, he pulls out a small handkerchief, pleating the square and bringing it to your cheek.

You follow his hand whenever it swipes at his excess cum, patiently waiting and watching with satisfaction rimming your eyes. Jeremiah is gentle, patting and swiping alike with the calm moment settling between you.

“There,” he declares, putting aside the fabric that definitely needed to be washed. A wave of decorum crashed against him, and he’s quickly pulling his pants into place. Bringing you up with him, he smooths out your hair and starts to ramble. “Are you okay? Was this alright? I know we kinda just, went for it and all, but I—“

You squish his lips together with a press of your finger, amusement clear in your sigh. “Yes, yes and yes.” You pull your finger then, tapping your own lip in thought. “If anything, those should be my questions to you, Jer.”

Jeremiah blinks, then listens to the pace of his heart and rise of his breaths. To which he deeply inhales and says, “Yeah, I’m great. Thanks, actually.” 

The blush settles into his ears this time, and you can’t help but reach for them in a light pinch. “Cute,” you mumble, though loud enough for him to hear—the red only deepens because of it.

“A-anyway, your flowers,” Jeremiah coughs, waving a hand sheepishly towards them. “They’ve been, well, paid for.”

You turn, picking up the lovely arrangement and hugging it to your chest in content. “I’m glad,” you nod, before pressing a fleeting kiss to his unsuspecting cheek. “All is well!”

Before he could even scramble to words, you were already halfway across the tiled floor and standing at the entrance. Flowers nestled in your arms, and a smile so brilliant it made them seem dull in comparison. “Same time next week?”

Jeremiah cups the cheek where you touch lingers. In his heart, the budding adoration grows another branch, his affections blooming steadfast. 

“Yeah.” He finds himself smiling back. “I’ll see you then.”

[whitexwolfxx310]

Hi. Request. A bucky or sebastian x fem reader. Soft wedding smut. Fluff. NO daddy or mommy kinks, for the love of God. NO! Thank you

Yes!!! I have been so excited to write something like this! I couldn't help but dive right into it! I hope you enjoy ♥️

||You're My Home||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Your wedding night!

Warnings: Spicy content! 18+ only! Oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetration, praise kink, FLUFFFFFFF!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This isn't a part of the BBWWS, but let me know what you think!

Spending the last year planning the intricate details of a wedding had you completely drained. Centerpieces, invitations, flowers… it sounds fun in theory, but was utterly exhausting.

Bucky did everything he could to be by your side every step of the way. Even the late nights when he came home from a mission to find you crying in the middle of the floor- that was littered with glue, glitter, ribbons, and card stock that was going to somehow come together to make the seating chart you had imagined in your head. He had this magic about him that would take the stress away, reminding you that the very core of all of this was your love for one another. He’d offer to help, and seeing him in all black leather covered with glitter was a sight to behold. You teased your fiancé, saying he should pitch that idea as a new uniform.

You held onto those little moments to help push you through the craziness of wedding planning. After all, the endgame was becoming Mrs. Barnes. And even though the big day got closer and closer, you never got over the sight of Bucky’s mothers ring on your finger.

But it all came together on a beautiful fall evening as you each stood at the end of a plush grass isle. That had been his one and only request- to be married outdoors in a wide open space. Bucky didn’t look when you first appeared, he was afraid. It wasn’t until the music played and Steve gave him a reassuring grip on his shoulder, did he brave a look.

He didn’t smile at first. His eyes took in every small detail; The bold white sheath dress that hugged your curves, the plunging sweetheart neckline that accented your breasts, the floral patterned lace that disappeared the further it fluttered down the dress. No, he didn’t smile. Not yet. Instead his teeth clenched and his lips slightly twitched as you started to walk towards him. Bucky’s ocean blue eyes now had a watery sheen to them, conveying just one simple word: ‘mine’.

When you were only just a few feet away from the sunflower and marigold decorated alter, he stepped forward to meet you. To hold your hand in his as you both take your last steps as each others fiancé. Standing face to face in front of a large group of people that suddenly seemed to disappear, you could only focus on the man in front of you. His pearly white teeth that gleamed as he now smiled, his eyes as bright as you’ve ever seen them, his infamous nose scrunch in excitement that made you fall in love with him in the first place, and that tanned, God-like skin that practically glowed under his all black suit. Every feature was enhanced from the too perfect watercolor sun as it started to set during your vows.

The minister hadn’t even finished the conclusion of the ceremony by saying ‘you may now kiss the bride’ before Bucky gently cupped both sides of your face and gave you the sweetest, heartfelt kiss. The beaming smiles on both of your faces almost made it impossible to press your lips together. Cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd, causing him to take you into his arms, dipping you down low as he maintained the kiss for show.

The evening was full of clinking utensils against glasses, music that had everyone dancing (even Bucky), and the ever so slightly guilty conscience you had from wasting such an amazing tasting cake by smushing it into his face. It went by so fast that it was practically a blur, and over far too soon.

Everyone sent you off in the picture perfect way; people lined up on both sides of the main entrance and held sparklers that just felt as though they were illuminating the newly married glow coming off of you both.

Driving back to the rented cabin for your wedding night was painfully slow. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, giving the occasional squeeze when his thumb wasn’t grazing against the soft white fabric.

Pulling into the drive, you can feel that the night has cooled. He quickly turns off the car and slightly fumbles as he runs around to open the car door for you. Holding out his hand, you take it into yours and allow him to help you out. After all, wedding dresses aren’t well known for their ability to move with you. Bucky picks you up, now holding you in traditional bridal style to bring you through the threshold. He kicks the door lightly, opening it and walking through, making you giggle as you held onto him.

“Thank you, husband.” You enunciate. He smirks, gently placing you back into your feet.

“You’re welcome, wife.” He reiterates the title also. You both laugh.

His eyes find yours, portraying the same look of adoration he has given you through the entire day, making you feel like the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Your smile mirrored his own- but one side of your lip tugged into a smirk as you slowly started stepping backwards towards the bedroom. The faint clicking of your heels against the floor being your silent invitation.

Those sky blue eyes set ablaze, and without hesitation, he pulled at his black tie, shimmying the knot down until it was undone and fell to the floor. Bucky’s midnight black tuxedo jacket followed suit, starting to leave a trail of his clothes as he followed you into the bedroom.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and encourages you to turn around. Now with your back to him, he steps in close- the front of his body now pressing into yours. As you expose your neck, Bucky's lips kiss your collarbone, almost making you visibly shiver under his touch. He inhales deeply, as if somehow your scent has changed now that you're officially his. His lips leave small, butterfly soft kisses that trace up to your ear. Instinctively, warm fingertips trace along the lace seam on your lower back.

"You looked... so beautiful today," he breathed, as his fingers clasped the tiny zipper. "But, I would be lying if I said that I haven't been thinking about getting you out of this dress, all day." Your hips impulsively press back against his at the words. The fabric became less taut the more he pulled the zipper down.

That familiar combination of his warm and cool touch started to line your curves. Turning in Bucky's arms to face him, the dress pooled around your feet on the floor. After helping you out of the mesh layers, Bucky drops to his knees in front of you as he admires your new revealed outfit- a strapless, shortened, white flower patterned corset with a matching lace thong and garter belt to hold up thigh high stockings. Placing a firm kiss on your stomach, his head tilts up so he can look at you through hooded eyes- his lower lip still tugged down against your belly slightly.

"God, you're gorgeous. Just...perfect. And mine." The last word changed his tone from admiration to instant primal. He was back on his feet, hands already starting to roam your body. In return, you grip the collar of his dress shirt, pulling his face down closer to yours. Even in heels, you're significantly shorter than him.

"I love you, Bucky. You're everything I've ever wanted, needed, and more." You say, in a small voice- your lips so close to his that they just barely touched with each word you spoke. Not even waiting for a response, you purse your lips to his as you start to fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt.

His warm tongue skims against yours- and now you're even more impatient that his naked body isn't already on top of yours. Taking a fist full of the shirt from both sides, you pull as hard as you could- buttons flying, leaving his chest bare. Bucky's lips didn't leave yours as you pushed the shirt down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

Stepping forward, he supports your body- laying you down on the bed. His hips press firmly between your legs, and even through his dress pants you could feel that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him; Causing the recognizable throbbing in your lower core to make it's first appearance. His palm presses flat against your upper chest, feeling your heart as it starts to beat faster, for him.

Using his palm as guidance, his lips now trail behind his hand as it coasts lower on your body. Your sternum, beneath your ribs, your belly button, and just above your underwear. While his lips left creamy, soft kisses- the small amount of stubble on his chin tickles, causes you to wriggle slightly under his touch. You exhale all of the air out of your lungs as he plants one faint kiss on top of the thin fabric between your legs. The warmth from his breath has your body completely in his control; your back arching off the bed, aching for more of his touch.

Moving the fabric to the side, he gives one more exposed, tongue filled kiss- causing your breath to hitch. You force yourself to look down, taking the upmost gratification of seeing this man's, your man's, face between your thighs. Bucky ran his warm pointer finger through your folds, grinning with approval of how wet you already are. His ribbed tongue swirls as he licks and sucks smoothly- your hips grind softly, working with his motions.

At first your moans are sigh like and gradually turn into small whimpers. It's a small game Bucky likes to play- teasing and edging almost to the point it will drive you insane. But the orgasms that snowball through you over and over again make it so worth it. He glides over that one sweet spot that makes your entire body tense.

"Don't stop," You sigh, struggling to maintain breathing as your nails start grabbing into his full head of hair. He gives a small 'Mmm' in response, the hum from his throat practically echoing in your rib cage.

Keeping the gradual brushing of his tongue, your entire body starts to come off of the bed. Your toes point downward as you fail in remembering how to breathe- Bucky's arms tense around your thighs as you start to wriggle, holding you in place as you ride through the wave of pent up tension.

A combination of his name delicately wrapped in moans escape your mouth. Even after what seems like relentless energy waves rolling through your body, his tongue doesn't stop- but instead becomes softer and silky, twirling so gently around your extremely sensitive and swollen clit. Only once does your body shudder at each pass of his tongue does he stop.

The coolness of the air replaces where his mouth was as he kneels on the bed. Bucky pulls on his belt buckle, the metal rattling as it comes undone and gets thrown onto the floor. At some point, your thong had been ripped off. Being the skilled lover that he is, his pants are already being tugged off as he moves to hover over you. His sweet- yet salty, lips are on yours; his tongue massaging your own as you both taste yourself through the kiss.

Reaching down between your legs, you grasp and start to stroke him slowly. He breathes into the kiss at your touch and as you adjust your body underneath him. You guide the tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it maliciously slow up and down your folds to lubricate him, with you. The most delicious sound reverberates in his throat as his hips gently press forward, his silent plead. Not being able to resist much longer yourself, you start to guide him inside of you.

A unanimous moan is breathed out between the two of you as he presses in. In an attempt to make himself slick, Bucky pushes in, and then pulls out- repeating this movement until the majority of his length is inside of you. You're so tight that he can't fit in all the way just yet.

His hips rock gingerly against your own, starting off gradually as your internal walls expand to adjust around his intimidating size. The abdominal throbbing didn't stay dormant for long once Bucky found his rhythm. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead into your own. His breathing becomes heavier as your whimpers morph into moans- moans transform into broken 'oh's'.

This being your second orgasm makes it more intense; and Bucky knows well enough to keep his pace. Changing anything in the moment could cause him to start over again. Not that he would mind.

"Just like that," he breathes, and gently strokes your cheek. And you start to crumble all over again at the smoothness of his words. Your nails dig into his slick and muscled back for stability- your stomach re-living that rollercoaster drop feeling. The sounds coming from you are becoming shaky and high pitched. Bucky presses his lips back into yours, swallowing your sharp whines of pleasure.

He doesn't allow you time to come back down from this high; instead he repositions you both. Bucky is now slightly leaned back on his knees with you straddled on top of him, nice and close.

"One more?" He asks with a smug smile, already taking on the challenge regardless.

Your throat is so dry, your vision still semi blurred- and yet, how can I say no?

His hands grip onto your hips- your bodies forming a V. No movement involved, you can feel the incline of him in this position- with every tiny motion, his tip is going to caress against your G-spot in this alignment.

The first, slow grind makes Bucky hiss. He's deeper, you feel tighter. This isn't going to take long at all... for either of you.

Allowing his hands to guide your hips, you move along to his pattern. The combination of both internal and external stimulation already has you unable to think straight. Your body shudders a little more fiercely this time- Bucky's fingers dig into your skin more as he grunts through his breath. You can feel the pulsing, warm sensation inside as he comes- making him feel even more slick. His body convulses slightly until all that is left is excessive breathing and sticky, sweaty skin between you both.

Bucky's hands cup your face- the cold from his metal hand being more than welcome. "God, I love you." He says, then presses his lips against yours. And in this moment, you realize that every night for the rest of your lives could be like this. This intense, this passionate- forever.

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[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Worst Best Man

Notes: Based on this post. Working on the companion Rooster piece now. Not beta-read

Warnings: enemies to lovers; angst; fluff; reader tipsiness; ends happily

Rating: M (mostly for the amount of cursing)

Length: 6K

Summary: You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from the best man, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with. 

Don’t you think it’s too soon?

Aren’t you rushing this?

You’ve known each other for, what—four months? How—How did this even—

Those were among the questions that had bubbled up when Jenna told you that she and Thomas were getting married, and asked you to be her Maid of Honor—for a wedding that would be happening in three months. Now, you were a month out, and the wedding was feeling like even more of a circus than it had at the outset. The timeline was pinched, the budget was tight, the bride’s demands were high, the groom was preoccupied, and the Best Man was such a dick. 

You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from him, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with. 

He had no interest in helping you in any meaningful way. He was more than happy to tag along for the fun stuff like cake tastings, but when it came to the things that you have to actually spend time on—things like arrangements for the photographer, decorations and centerpieces for the venue (because Jenna was too busy to do them), place settings (because Jenna wanted them done, but didn’t want to deal with it), and arranging the favor bags (because someone had to do it), Jake wouldn’t so much as lift a finger. Oh, you’d asked. Toward the beginning, you had asked him for a lot of help. But once Jake Seresin gave you a third, “Sounds like you’ve got this one, sweetheart,” you just stopped asking. 

And that was why it was wholly inexplicable when he decided to turn up to the florist’s. You hadn't even bothered to hide your dismay at the sight of him. In fact, your scowl had deepened as he’d held the door open for you and waved you inside. You greeted the woman behind the counter warmly, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for her to gather the arrangements that she’d made for the reception. Jake dropped into one of the seats around the small table, scrolling through his phone. You set your bag down on the seat beside his and instead wandered around the space, eyeing photos of other arrangements. 

“...Would you sit down?” 

“What for?” 

“Just, relax for a minute,” Jake sighed. “What are you so antsy for?” 

You weren’t antsy. You just didn’t want to be anywhere near him if you could help it. 

“I’m not,” You excused. “I’m just looking.” 

You felt Jake cast a speculative eye back toward you. You stalwartly ignored it, looking between the photos until you heard, “Here we are!” From the florist. You turned, smiling when you spotted the arrangements of peonies, garden roses, and hyacinths, offering a clean, white pallet with pops of blue. 

“This is beautiful,” You stepped closer to the table. You dipped your head, eyeing the stems, and the fullness of the vase. “I do think that this may be a little tall for what we need, though.” 

“And what does the groom think?” The florist asked, casting Jake a bright smile. Your eyes widened slightly, turning to find Jake smiling smugly at you. 

“Oh—No. No no,” You shook your head. “This is not the groom—And I’m not the bride. Maid of Honor, Best Man,” You clarified, pointing from yourself to him. 

“I’m so sorry!” She laughed. “You two just had the look of a couple when you came in. I see it a lot, you know, the tightness and stress that can come from arrangements, floral or otherwise. So!” She pushed on as if she hadn't just horrified you, “We can absolutely do lower vases, if that’s what you’re needing.” 

“The tables at the venue are fairly small, they seat five,” You told her as she noted it down, “And I just don’t want people having to lean around the uh…Around the arrangements to speak to one another.” 

“Understood,” She nodded.

“Do the vases come with the flowers?” Jake asked, taking up the arrangement. 

“No. Put it down,” You ordered flatly. 

“What are we gonna do for vases?” 

“I took care of that. And since when is any of this a we situation?” 

“Don’t look so sour, sweetheart. I’m just trying to help.” 

“This is not helping, this is annoying. Put it down.” 

“Do the vases look like this?” 

“No. We’re repurposing mason jars.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Jenna has a lot of them that we can use and it cuts down on the expense. Would you please put it down?” 

“How much would vases like these cost? They’re nicer.” 

“Would you just—Stop tipping it!” 

“What? I’m just looking for the price tag—” 

“Jake—” 

“Gimme one second—” 

“Stop, stopstopstopstopstop!” You screeched, darting around the table to him. You weren’t fast enough. Jake tipped the vase just a little too far, sending water spilling into your open bag. He hissed a curse, righting the vase as you scrambled to your bag. You yanked it open, your insides bubbling with rage as you looked inside. You could hear the retreating footsteps of the florist, and the scrape of Jake’s chair beside yours. 

“Shit…How bad is it—?” 

“Don’t,” You warned, cutting him off as you try to shift things around in your bag and assess the damage. “Don’t talk to me right now.” 

It was a stony moment of quiet before the florist came back in. You managed a tight smile as she held out a wad of paper towels, taking them with a mumble of thanks and hurriedly dabbing at the bottom of your bag. 

“...How bad is—” 

“Seresin, I am serious.” 

Jake went blessedly quiet beside you. You only just managed to keep your cool as you finished discussing the arrangements with the florist. You steamed your way out of the shop, determined to leave him in the dust—and with no such luck.

“Would you slow down?”

You didn’t answer his call, just sped toward you car, even as he added, “Look, I’m sorry—“

“Why are you here!” You whirled around, forcing him to stop short to keep from slamming into you. He looked stricken for just a second before he blinked his usual cocky demeanor back into place. 

“I’m here to help.”

“With what?” You laughed hysterically, “Since when? I asked for your help before and you did nothing! Why now?”

“Thomas said you’ve been twitchy and working overtime on this stuff, so—“

“So you thought you’d come and dump some water into my purse? Thank you,” You cooed sarcastically. “I couldn’t have asked for better assistance.”

“That was an accident,” He insisted.

“Well, it was more than enough. Consider yourself released from whatever help you thought you might give me.” You turned from him, pressing the unlock button on your key fob. You rounded to the driver’s seat, yanking the door open and slamming it shut once you’re inside. You jammed the key into the ignition, practically peeling out of the parking lot before he could knock on your window or get into his car and follow you.

—

You did see him, of course. He was hard to avoid. Jenna and Thomas insisted on the odd check-in with the four of you, whenever it was convenient for Thomas and Jake. They tended to have schedules that were set in stone. Both were in the Navy; Thomas was a month out from changing bases, which was why the wedding was on such a tight turnaround in the first place. 

You sat around the small dining room table in Jenna’s apartment, mostly keeping to yourself. Jenna, Thomas, and Jake just chatted like you didn’t have things to get done—like you hadn’t come with a list of status items and questions that have yet to be answered. Instead, you just waited, drank their beer, ate the pizza they bought, and smiled until they came around to it. Once they did, you ran through your list with militant efficiency. You came away with answers, plans—and Jake’s pledge to help you with the favors.

You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that you didn’t want water poured into the favor bags, but you just forced a tight smile, and gritted out your thanks through your teeth.

—

“Why don’t you like Jake?”

It was a trap of a question. You didn’t answer right away, choosing to pretend that you hadn’t heard it the first time.

“Hm?” You managed after a moment, glancing from your notes to look at her. Jenna tipped her head toward you, brows raising in disbelief. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning to look down at your notes and checklists.

“He’s a good guy,” Jenna added, walking around the table. “Tommy said he’s half the reason he even made it out of basic.” 

“I somehow doubt that.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Other than him being a self-centered purse-ruining ass? Nothing in particular.” 

“He said the purse thing was an accident. He felt really bad!” 

“Yeah, it really showed,” You muttered. You glanced up, brows raising as you spotted Jenna’s disbelieving gaze. You sighed softly.

“Look, he’s gonna help me with these favors, we’re gonna get through the wedding, and then I never have to see him again. So,” You shrugged. “This is gonna be fine. Your day is going to be perfect. I promise.” 

“Making an effort to get along with Jake would make my day perfect,” Jenna insisted, giving you a wide, sweet smile. You could see a glint of deviousness in her dark eyes—one that you didn’t trust. 

“...Alright,” You conceded, nodding. “I will try.”

--  

You would not try. You were going to white-knuckle your way through the favors, hopefully in absolute silence. 

--  

“So do you like doing this stuff?” 

So much for absolute silence. You cast Jake a surly gaze before you looked back down at the small favor bag and counted out ten hershey kisses from the bowl on the table.

“You mean favors?” You asked. 

“I mean wedding stuff.” 

You shrugged a little. “It’s fine, I guess.” 

“It seems pretty important to you.” 

“It’s important to Jenna. Jenna’s important to me.” 

Jake grunted softly. You could see him nodding in your periphery. You tied the favor bag closed, setting it into the box beside you. 

“You worried?” He asked. 

“About what?” 

“Them.” 

Your eyes darted to Jake. You expected a smug smile, but you found something more contemplative there. You pursed your lips. This felt like as much of a trap as Jenna’s question. “...I guess when you know, you know,” You shrugged. “And with his move coming up, you know. It makes sense.” 

You tied the next bag closed, setting it into the box. You glanced over, brows raising as Jake tied ribbon with laborious slowness. For every bag he finished, you finished three. You were certain he was drawing this out to get under your skin—and you were sorry to say that it was working. 

“You seem to have put all of this stuff together really fast,” He said. 

“People get booked out so far in advance. I just wanted to make sure Jenna and Thomas had everything they needed.” 

“So that’s why you took the steamroller approach?” 

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing at the question. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You totally took over the planning.” 

“Jenna wasn’t going to get to most of it,” You defended.

“You could’ve left her to it.” 

“She asked for my help.” 

“Your help, not your dictatorship.” 

Your eyes narrowed at the assertion.

“You know what?” You smiled. “I’ve got this. You can go.” 

You dropped the next favor bag into the box before taking up an empty one. Jake chuckled, and the sound raised your hackles. 

“You really don’t like pushback, huh?” He asked. 

“And yet, you keep talking.” 

“You doing all of this in case you never get to do it for yours?” 

It made you go still, your stomach twisting with indignation. 

“Excuse me?” You asked, tone icy and low. 

Jake shrugged. “You know, plan the wedding you’d like for yourself in case you don’t have one.” 

“Where the fuck did that come from?” 

“From your planning with an iron fist.” Jake leaned closer, dropping the favor bag into the box before he settled back in his seat. 

“Someone had to do it,” You insisted. “Jenna’s work schedule is nuts, you and Thomas are swamped at the base, and neither of them have family here. Would you rather I didn’t do anything?” 

Jake was quiet for a moment, his gaze sweeping your face. 

“...Okay,” He conceded after a moment. 

“Okay?” You repeated, watching him pluck up a new bag. 

“You’re right,” He shrugged.

“Then what the fuck was with the third degree?” 

“Just wanted to see you squirm a little.”

“...Nice of you to do it without damaging any bags this time,” You sniffed, turning back to the favors. 

“There’s still time.” 

“I will cut your dick off.” 

Jake just laughed loudly, tipping his chin back with the force of it. You glanced over at him, feeling a slight lightening toward him. He held his hands up in concession, and you each turned back to your favors. You reached out for the candy, going still as his hands brushed yours. 

“Ladies first,” He insisted, drawing back. You mumbled your thanks, grabbing a handful of candies and leaning back in your seat again. You found that you didn’t mind the light small talk that Jake made after that. The questions leveled at you were less probing, and far less irritating. As the evening went on, you didn’t even mind the way Jake smiled at you, or the feeling of him watching you. He was still an asshole, sure—but he was an asshole that was making favors way faster than before. 

--  

“What do you have to do this week?” 

“Uh,” You sighed, then trilled your lips as you clicked through your email. “Not a ton, actually. I have to pick up my dress…And the bachelorette party is tonight.” You shifted your phone between your shoulder and your ear, eyeing your work email. “What about you guys?”

“Not much, far as I know. I was calling you for my marching orders,” Jake insisted.

You smiled a little, shaking your head.

“There isn’t a ton this week. We’ll have to pick up the flowers next week and get those and some of the other things over to the venue—you know, the favors and stuff.” 

“You gonna need my help with that?” 

“TBD.” 

“Gimme a call if you do. I’ll be happy to lend my strong arms to those flower arrangements.” 

“I’m never letting you anywhere near a vase again.” 

“You ever gonna get over that?” 

“Fuck no.” 

“Seriously, though. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know your schedule is hell this week.” 

“Tom tell you that?” 

“No, Jenna did—though presumably, Thomas told her, so technically.” 

“If you change your mind, I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Yeah, I will.” Then, against your better judgement, “Thanks, Jake.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart. Can’t have that pretty little head popping off from stress.” 

And there it is. That was what you got for being nice to Jake fucking Seresin.

“I’m hanging up now,” You warned. 

“Alright,” He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Yep. Bye.” 

You pulled your phone away, hesitating for just a second before hanging up. He was ridiculous. But Jenna wasn’t completely wrong—he was sort of a good guy, when he wanted to be. And he was sort of attractive, in an All-American, smarmy, smirking kinda way. His lips were nice, and his eyes were sort of…Entrancing…But he was fine, whatever happened. He was sort of fine to you now. 

And you had yet to have another purse incident, so maybe he really was trying. 

--  

“Are y’all havin’ a nice time?” 

The smile was clear in his voice, and you wanted to damn it. But, something in your belly went sweet and warm at the question. Then again, maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was the tequila shots…Or the espresso martinis…Or the vodka soda. 

“Why do you—Seems like…Weird to ask,” You managed before pressing your hand over your mouth to swallow a burp. 

“Saw you on Jenna’s instagram.” 

“Oh,” You frowned. That must’ve been why she’d been holding her phone up at you and crowing, Wooo! while you'd all taken shots a few minutes ago. You cleared your throat before reaching for your drink. 

“Why are you calling me?” You added. 

“Just makin’ sure you have a safe way home.” 

“Pfff, it’s fine. Tom’s gonna come get Jenna.” 

“I know. I didn’t mean Jenna. I meant you.” 

“I’ll get a car or somethin’.” 

“I’d feel better if I came and got you.” 

“I dunno how much longer we’re gonna be—and don’t you have a super early morning?” 

“Who says?” 

“Jenna…And probably Tom, which is how I got the—” 

“Right,” Jake cut you off. “I’ll be fine. Just lemme know when you need me to come and getchya.” 

“Why Mr. Sersin, that might be the nicest—” You winced as you hiccuped. “Nicest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“For you?” 

“I’m thinking, like, ever, probably.” 

Jake chuckled on the other end of the phone, and you slid down in your seat a little, stomach twisting with the sound. 

“Lemme know,” He repeated. 

“Yessir.” 

“You gonna thank me again?” 

“Maybe when you get here.” 

--  

“You gonna thank me now?” 

“Nope,” You shook your head, buckling up. 

“Why not?” 

“I want nuggies and fries. Can we go to McDonald’s?” You tipped your head to the side, smiling widely at him. 

“Oh, so now I’m getting you food, too?” Jake asked, pulling into traffic.

“S’what you get for volunteering me to take me home…And for ruining my purse.” 

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?” 

“I’ll let you know when you hit capacity,” You slid down in your seat, resting your head back and closing your eyes. Oh—No, bad plan, bad plan. Your stomach twisted, and you forced your eyes open again, swallowing thickly. Very, very bad plan. You tipped your head to the side again, eyeing Jake. He looked quite handsome, his eyes flashing with the odd shine of streetlights. You blinked slowly, taking him in. Was he always this attractive? The guy’s face should be on posters or something. 

“You doin’ okay over there?”

His voice was nice, too. It was warm and soothing, and sweet. You turned to look forward again as you saw him shift to look at you. 

“Fine,” You mumbled. “Hungy.” 

“Hungry?” 

“Hungy,” You insisted. 

“Still want nuggets and fries?” 

“Uh-huh. Please.” 

“Alright,” He nodded, turning the car into the McDonald’s drive thru. 

“And a Sprite,” You added.

“You’re getting water.” 

“Water and Sprite.” 

“...Fine.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Say it again.” 

“Get fucked.” 

He grinned, teeth shining in the glow of the drive thru's fluorescent light. You watched him as he rolled his window down, leaning out to give your order. You reached down, taking up your purse and poking through it. 

“Put that away,” Jake waved you off. 

“What? No. It’s my food.” 

“I don’t care. Put your money away.” 

“No.” 

“You’re not paying.” 

“I’m gonna pay!” 

“No, you’re not.” 

You pouted as Jake reached out to pay with his own money. You glanced around the car, frowning. You reached out quietly, carefully opening the glove compartment and tucking the money inside. Then you rooted around innocently as Jake turned back to you. 

“What are you looking for?” He asked. 

“Hand sanitizer or something,” You shrugged, shoving the glove closed again. 

“It’s right there,” Jake pointed to where it sat in his cupholder. 

“Ah, neat,” You smiled smugly, taking it up and leaving room for him to set down your Sprite. 

“Here,” He added, setting the bottle of water and bag of food down in your lap. 

“Fuck me, that smells good,” You mumbled. Jake chuckled softly, steering the car toward the parking lot. You pushed yourself up in your seat, opening the bag. 

“You get something, too?” You asked. 

“Nope.” 

“Then why are we stopping?” 

“So you don’t get queasy, eating while we’re stopping and starting.” 

“Shockingly nice of you.” 

“Why is that shocking?” 

“Cause you’re kind of a dick.” You didn’t even think about saying it. You just rooted through your bag and stuffed a handful of fries in your mouth. 

“...You really think that?” 

Your chewing slowed at his question. He didn’t even sound like he was teasing that time. You glanced over nervously, surprised to find him watching you. You swallowed thickly before you shrugged, picking up your sprite and taking a sip. 

“I dunno,” You mumbled.

“You sounded pretty certain a moment ago.” 

“You were a dick when I met you…And then for like two months after that.” 

“Am I dick right now?” 

“Mm…” You hummed, considering. “No. You’re kinda sweet now. It’s actually weirding me out a little bit. But,” You shrugged, drawing the nuggets out. “Maybe it’s not that weird. Jenna said you’re a good guy. She’s usually got a pretty good sense when it comes to people.” 

“That’s what Thomas said.” 

“Thomas was right. Is right.” You waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. Want a nug?” 

“Sure.” 

You opened the box and plucked one out, holding it out to him. You were still digging into your fries with your other hand; you didn’t see Jake lean in. You just felt his lips and tongue brush your fingers as he took the nugget with his lips. Your heart stuttered in your throat, and you stayed perfectly still for a moment. 

“S’good,” He mumbled, snapping you back into action. 

“Hope so, you paid for it.”  

“I’m not gonna go broke ordering from the Dollar Menu.”

“And getting a Sprite.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

 You glanced over, smiling a little as he took up the soda and took a sip. 

“Get going on that water,” He added, nodding toward the bottle in your lap. “We don’t want you waking up with a hangover.” 

You hummed, opening the water and taking a long, greedy sip. 

“...Jake?” 

“Mhm?” 

“Why’d you offer to drive me home?” 

“Wanted to make sure you got home okay.” 

“Could’ve just asked Thomas to make sure I got in a car or something.” You turned to look at Jake, frowning as he reached into the bag and fished out a few fries. 

“I’ll feel better seeing you get in myself.” 

You watch him raise his fistful of fries, shoving a couple into his mouth. 

Himself? He could’ve just let it go. He could’ve texted you or Jenna in the morning to make sure. You bit your lip, taking hold of the sprite and swirling the ice around a little in the cup. 

“...Jake?” 

“Mm?” 

“You’re not a dick.” 

“Careful, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you saying something you regret while under the influence.” 

You rolled your eyes a touch, shaking your head and looking down at the food in your lap. 

“...Think you may have been a little right, too,” You mumbled. 

“What do you mean?” 

“About…You know. Taking the wedding over. I don’t think I’m gonna get there, you know?” The admission thickened your throat as it left, and welled tears up in your eyes. You found yourself glaring down at the food, as if that would fend off the way your tipsiness and insecurities were mingling. Jake’s enduring lack of response did nothing but make you feel even more silly, and even more exposed. 

“...You don’t have to worry about that,” Jake said after a moment. You huffed out a bitter little laugh, shaking your head. 

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the easiest person to deal with.” 

“You can be a little prickly,” He agreed, making you smile in spite of yourself. “But you’re pretty damn sweet once you let someone in. I don’t think I know anyone more loyal, more hardworking. Jenna and Thomas are lucky to have you.” 

The compliments surprised you, and you couldn’t help but turn to look at him. You turned, expecting his usual cocky, teasing grin again. Instead, you found Jake watching you with a soft, kind smile. It made your heart leap into your throat. You hurriedly dropped your gaze back to your food, unsure of how to answer. He’d knocked you speechless. 

“Finish your food,” Jake advised, reaching out and snagging another one of your nuggets. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You grumbled, even as you fished into your bag for a few more fries. 

“Watch that attitude, sweetheart. I’ll pour out that Sprite.” 

-- 

You wake up with a throbbing head, a dry mouth and a text: 

JS (Asshole)

Hope you listen to your alarm this morning

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, pushing yourself to lean back against your headboard. You hesitated before you opened your phone, texting back: 

Thanks for the ride home. and the nugs. 

You pushed yourself out of bed, groaning as you headed for the bathroom. By the time you returned you had three new texts from Jake: 

And the fries? 

And the water. 

Not to mention the sprite.

Not to mention, but here you are, mentioning it. 

Need me to do anything in the next couple of days? 

Pick up your dress? 

Your brows raised at the question, surprised that he remembered that that was on your list. 

I can get it. Thanks, though. 

Np

You bit your lip, peering down at the phone. You found yourself wanting to keep talking to him—to ask how his day was going, what he had to get done that day, something—but instead you tossed your phone back onto the bed, scrubbing your hands over your face. Fuck, alright. You needed to get ready for work, and to stop thinking of why Jake’s name appearing on your screen made your belly flutter. 

--  

“You can unclench now.” 

Unclench what? Your ass? Your jaw? You didn’t ask for clarification; you just threw a fireless, surly gaze back toward Jake. It didn’t hold at the sight of his easygoing smile. You couldn’t help but smile before you turned your head, turning to look at the checklist in your hands. You only had a few more things to do for the wedding tomorrow. The favors were at the venue; the flowers were arriving in the morning; you and Jake had set up the tables and chairs in the reception space, and in the ceremony space. The other bridesmaids, groomsmen, and the scant family members had already turned up and were milling about, but two very important people were missing. 

“I will,” You raised your hand to use air quotes, “‘unclench’ when everyone is accounted for. Honestly,” You reached down, plucking your phone out of your bag and peering at time. “If Jenna’s late for her own rehearsal, I’m gonna…” 

“Gonna what?” 

“...Scream?” 

“You’re really gonna scream?” 

“Just, like, in my head.” 

“Would you scream aloud if I told you I didn’t have my suit ready?” 

Your fingers flexed around your notes, your eyes narrowing at Jake as he shifted to sit in the ceremony seat in front of you. 

“...Depends,” You spoke slowly. “Do you really not have it ready, or are you just fucking with me?” 

“Just fucking with you.” He smiled cheekily up at you. 

“Why are you like this?” 

“You mean perfect?” 

Before you could answer, you heard Jenna call out, “Sorry! Sorry, we hit traffic.” 

You turned to see her and Thomas coming in together, their hands joined. You strolled over to her, meeting them in the middle as Thomas broke away from her. 

“Did y’all really get stuck in traffic?” You asked.

“No. We pulled over to fuck in a parking lot.”  

You snorted a laugh, unable to help it.

“Speaking of which,” She added, looping her arm through yours. “Have you met Tommy’s brother?” 

“I think we, like, said hi,” You shrugged. 

“I’m sitting you two together at the rehearsal dinner.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause you need to get some, lady. This wedding’s got you all wound up—and you’re not even the one getting married.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue, or a chance to analyze why your gaze absently darted to Jake at her assertion. Jenna was already waving to the others. 

“Alright!” She called out. “Let’s get this over with, I’m fucking starving!” 

--  

“What are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t help but ask. It was early, and stunning to see him there, surrounded by mason jars, bundles of flowers, and bites of twine. Jake hardly looked away from his work. 

“What’s it look like?” He asked. 

“It looks like you’re winding up to ruin some purses.” 

He did smile then, peering up at you from under his lashes. 

“You gonna stand there and sass me, or are you going to help?” 

You smiled, shrugging your bag off of your shoulder as you joined him at the table. 

“You been here long?” You asked. 

“About ten minutes.” 

“Could’ve told me you’d be here early, I would’ve been here with you.” 

“Figured you could use a bit of a break.” 

You reached out, untying a bundle of flowers and tucking them into a half-filled mason jar. You could feel Jake glancing toward you. You’d become so familiar with his side-eyed speculation over the last couple of weeks that the feeling was unmistakable. 

“...You seemed to be having fun last night,” He said. Your brow knitted together. 

“At the rehearsal?” 

“Dinner,” He clarified. You shrugged a little. 

“It was a nice dinner.” 

“Looked like you were having a nice conversation with Chris.” 

Your hands went briefly still with confusion for a moment. Sure, Jenna had made the introduction to Thomas’ brother, and sure, the two of you had spoken a little, but…Well, you didn’t think it was anything that Jake would’ve noticed, or anyone else for that matter. 

“It was alright,” You shrugged. “We were just talking. He’s nice.” 

“Gonna save him a dance later?” 

You chuckled, shrugging. 

“Probably not.” 

“...Gonna save me a dance later?” 

You pushed the jar aside, reaching for the next bundle. You didn’t dare look at Jake as your face heated. 

“Play your cards right, Seresin, I might even save you two.” 

It felt dangerous to offer, and silly to say. But—

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He leaned in to promise it; the murmur of it brushed against the shell of your ear. You swallowed thickly, fighting off a shiver as you reached for the next bundle of flowers. 

--  

You had the silliest thought as you walked down the aisle—as you took careful, even steps in your nude-toned heels, the fabric of your jewel-toned dress swirling around your ankles. You couldn’t think of anyone else—not Thomas ahead of you, or Jenna behind you. Your eyes were set on Jake—on the way he was grinning at you, watching you as though you’d hung the sun in the sky just for him. You took your place alongside the other bridesmaids, hands flexing around your bouquet. You caught Jake’s eye on the way to watch Jenna come down the aisle, grinning as he shot you a wink. 

It had been a long few months, a hellish experience at the start. But Thomas and Jenna were having their day the way they wanted it. The DJ was ready, the catering was setting up, the photographer was on deck to take photos of the ceremony and the wedding party—and so long as all of that stayed on track, you might be able to relax. 

--  

“Thought I’d find you out here.” 

You looked up, smiling tiredly as you spotted Jake. You’d taken refuge in the area outside of the reception hall, on one of the few benches in the unoccupied smoking area. You’d drawn your feet out of your shoes, resting your heels in them as you flexed your aching toes. 

“I needed some air,” You shrugged, “And some quiet. It’s been a loooong day.” 

Your eyes darted to Jake’s chest as he nimbly undid the buttons of his jacket. He settled onto the bench beside you before he reached around, setting his jacket around your shoulders. You smiled, reaching up and tugging it closer to yourself. 

“Such a gentleman.” 

“Don’t get too excited. I still owe you a purse.” 

You laughed, tipping your head back against the wall.

“I think we’re even.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling at him. “I’m sure.” 

You were both quiet for a moment, just taking one another in as the sounds of the party drifted out to the two of you. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Jake warned. You frowned, but he added, “Think you can stand those shoes just long enough for that dance you owe me?” 

You chuckled. “You were on such good behavior, I think I owe you two.” 

“We can start with one,” He offered, standing and holding his hand out to you. “Sock the other one away for later.” 

You smiled, slipping your feet back into your shoes properly and taking hold of Jake’s hand. It felt easy—warm and welcoming as it delicately cradled yours. His hand smoothed under the jacket and over your lower back, drawing you close as you raised your other hand to his shoulder. The two of you swayed gently with the music drifting from the reception. You found yourself holding Jake’s gaze, and wanting to hold it. Just a little ago, you might’ve shied away. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even taken his hand. 

“Thank you for your help for the last couple of weeks,” You said. “I’ve really appreciated it.” 

“Happy to.” 

“Happy to the whole time?” 

“I took a little warming up…But so did you.” 

“Yeah,” You conceded, “I did.” 

Jake’s brows rose, chin tipping down in amusement. 

“Did you just agree with me?” 

“It’s happened before,” You laughed. 

“And I savor it every time.” 

You rolled your eyes at his insistence, playing at annoyance. The feeling was promptly shaken as his thumb swept over your lower back. 

“You’re a drama queen, Seresin.” 

“I won’t be a groomzilla. You have my word.”

“Oh, do I?” You chuckled. “Why would you need to give me your word for that?”

“Because I realized something today.” 

“What’s that?” 

“The next time I see you walking down the aisle toward me, I want you wearing a white dress.” 

Your stomach flipped, your feet freezing in their place. Jake didn’t belabor the swaying. He went as still as you did, holding your gaze with sweet stubbornness. Your heart thudded roughly in your chest; your mouth went dry. 

“...That’s a very bold statement, Seresin.” 

You wanted to sound firm, imposing, but you knew that you sounded unsure, and nervous. Jake nodded. 

“I know.” 

“What if you’re wrong?” 

“I’m not.” 

“What if you change your mind—?” 

“I’m not going to change my mind.” 

“You hardly know me.” 

“I know you better than you think. And I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow.” He tipped his head to the side, holding your gaze. “But I am going to ask. You can count on that.” 

You could dismiss it. You could tell Jake that he was being silly. You could tell him that he was drunk, that he didn’t mean it. You could pull back, go inside. 

But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to draw away; you didn’t want to pretend that this was some drunken rambling. You just swallowed thickly. 

“Are you going to get me an engagement purse?” 

Jake’s grin was bright and beautiful, and you were pressed so closely to his chest that you felt the rumble of his laugh. He drew you closer, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I will get you whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

You grinned, looping your arm around his neck and drawing him closer. Your heart stuttered as Jake’s nose nudged yours, his breath brushing across your lips. You tipped your chin up toward him, unable to stop your smiling as Jake closed the gap. Your eyes slipped closed as you allowed yourself to melt into his chest, enraptured with the feeling of his tender kiss. You giggled as his hand slid down your lower back, hovering just above your ass. 

“Watch it with that, mister,” You warned. “You gotta buy me dinner first.” 

“The nugs don’t count?” 

You leaned back a little, considering. 

“Alright. One squeeze,” You warned, raising a finger to point at him. Jake laughed. 

“We got time, sweetheart. I’ll save it up.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @tropes-and-tales

[floralcrematorium]

Assorted FrUK/FACE Fam Headcanons

These are silly little thoughts I've had while drafting Migraines in Margaritaville, so these apply to the world of that AU (modern, human; FrUK parents raising NA bros in Massachusetts, US). Most of these involve food because I seem to think about them when I'm hungry???

• Francis and Arthur practice "one-parent-one-language" with the boys. Matthew took to French much easier than Alfred did, but both brothers managed to pick it up without much of a fuss. In elementary school the twins would use French to cheat on tests (they weren't allowed to sit next to each other after their schemes were discovered).

• Arthur set the grill on fire three times in one summer. Francis clearly doesn't learn from his mistakes and Arthur is too stubborn to let Francis do all of the work when it comes to preparing dinner.

• Follow up on the point above -- Arthur can prep vegetables and throw together food that doesn't require too much measuring or too many steps on the stovetop. He doesn't have the patience for most dishes and doesn't have a sense of what spices go well together/what is enough vs too much. Francis lets him help by chopping up vegetables and Arthur was usually the one to pack the boys' lunches. Sometimes they'd get leftover portions of whatever they had for dinner last night, but Arthur often defaulted to some sort of wrap with deli meat and assorted veggies/crackers for snack.

• Francis gives me similar vibes to those youtube moms who try to make homemade versions of popular American snacks. He may spend the weekdays at work in a kitchen, but on the weekends he's at home, still in the kitchen, trying to make homemade fruit leather and homemade cheese crackers for his sons.

• Arthur's the one more willing to let the boys get snacks from the store or take out. Francis is very much "we have McDonald's at home."

• Both Francis and Arthur would've been so excited to decorate the twins' nursery. They're both artistically inclined, be it in different ways. Arthur made blankets for both of them; Matthew is red and Alfred is blue. Francis paints floral designs on the furniture, in particular purple irises and both red and white roses.

• Because the twins were identical and because babies are kinda just blobs, they definitely accidentally mixed the twins up. The color coding might've come after the swap. They had a crisis about it. Francis "sacre bleu, we just gave two people permanent identity crises" Bonnefoy and Arthur "if we compare them to every picture we have of them we can figure it out" Kirkland. I'm imagining this happening before the twins have enough hair for their cowlicks to really form.

• It's tradition in the Kirkland-Bonnefoy household to have a box of Whitman's chocolates at every family party and Alfred is the reason why. One Christmas each twin got to pick out something special for the party and Alfred picked out the 22 piece Whitman sampler in the yellow box. They're not the best chocolates, but it became a tradition. Thankfully there's two layers in the box so Mattie and Al can have their own messenger boy pieces (the shaped chocolate that's the centerpiece of each layer).

• Neither Arthur or Francis have favor for one twin over the other. They both have their own activities they can do with Alfred and Matthew separately. Francis will cook and bake with Alfred and draw with Matthew. Arthur teaches Matthew to garden and watches old (by his son's standards) movies with Alfred.

• Francis is the parent the boys can come to no questions asked. Arthur isn't apathetic, but Francis is more inclined to give more thoughtful advice for relationships and general fuck-ups. He won't press on why or how something happened, but will help his sons figure out the best way to solve a problem.

• When Alfred and Mattie turned 10, Arthur wanted to teach them the importance of personal finance. He would give the boys $5 each week to spend on snacks at the grocery store (Arthur does the couponing and the shopping for the house). They were allowed to hold onto the money to use for later and could help with the couponing.

• Arthur drags the family out to Salem every Autumn. Sure, they live in Massachusetts and are well aware of how bad tourist season is, but he's fascinated with the city. Alfred initially went because he really liked this one New York style pizza shop in the Witch City Mall (how they got Francis to step foot in there, I don't know), but eventually grew interested in the witchy stuff Salem has to offer. Francis only puts up with it because the city has an art museum and weekly art fairs in the Fall. Matthew dreads their yearly trip. He loathes it. He'd rather tag along with Francis to the museum.

• Until the boys were old enough to start protesting, they had family Halloween costumes. Francis thought it was tacky, but saw the appeal when Arthur got the twins (still babies) all dressed up in lobster costumes.

[yikes-em]

Green Houses, Pincushions, and a Wedding

For @astrangersummer week 3: flowers

steddie | 3426 words | gen/no warnings | see tags below or on ao3

Three things you can find at Steve and Eddie's first date. Or: Robin sends "Maid of Honor" and very single Steve to pick up the flower arrangements for their wedding. Just so happens that Chrissy asks "Best Man" and also very single florist Eddie to arrange said flowers for their wedding. Somehow in their three years, Steve and Eddie haven't met until now.

Read also on ao3

“Okay, make sure that he’s just done it right, I mean I trust Eddie- Chrissy trusts the guy, and I trust Chris, but please, Steve, for the love of God, I will lose my goddamn mind if the flowers are wrong, I will just- I’ll-I’ll-!”

“Robin!” Steve shouts over the phone the second he gets the chance. “Robin, Jesus, breathe. I’ve got the pictures you sent me. I will inspect the arrangements. I will not harass him, he’s just a flower guy.”

“Well, he’s not just- you know what, I’ll do that later. Okay, thank you, dingus.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I’ve got this handled. You go get back to your nails, okay? I’ll see you later tonight. Bye, Robbie, love you!” Steve says, yanking open the door to the flower shop, the sign flashing Your Bedroom’s Garden, and entering as he hangs up on Robin.

The shop isn’t what he’d been expecting. The neon sign outside is hot pink with a few little yellow sparkles. Inside is a different story. It’s a long room, two walls are sage green and the other two are black like the floors and ceiling. Vines drape down the black walls while the green are covered in little shelves with examples and decorations for bouquets. Every other surface in the building is covered in water buckets of cuttings, planted pots, pots for sale themselves. Steve is overwhelmed by the amount of clean air in one room.

“Hi, welcome in! Be right with you!” Someone from deeper in the shop calls out so Steve idles by the desk. There’s a small commotion before a man appears, dressed in a cut off tank and ripped skinny jeans with a small horseshoe ring hanging from his nose. More of what Steve had not been expecting. “Hey! What can I do for ya?”

“Hello, uh I’m picking up an order for Buckley- might be under Harrington if she listed an alternate- yeah,” Steve says with a light smile.

“Ah, so you’re the hottie that she said would be coming,” the man laughs, the high ponytail of curls perched atop his head swaying a little. Steve can’t help the flush that heats his cheeks. “Follow me, I’ve got it all organized in the back.”

Steve does as he’s told, shuffling behind the guy and into a bright room with a garage door on the far end. He doesn’t notice he’s twisting his hands together until the pressure starts to hurt.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harrington.”

“Steve,” he corrects, watching Eddie stall in his approach to the buckets of flowers.

“Alright, Steve,” Eddie grins. “Well, everything’s here if you want to give it a once over. We’ve got the centerpieces over here in the light blue buckets. Bouquets for the party in the white ones. The smaller one there is for the boutonnières, there’s a package inside with the little glass vial pins for them. And then that pink vase has the flowers for the bridal hair.”

Steve can hardly keep up with everything Eddie’s saying, he also hadn’t expected for Robin and Chrissy to be so thorough with their floral choices. Nevertheless he pulls out his phone and starts matching things up to the trial photos they’d went with. “Sorry, Robin would kill me if the flowers were wrong.”

“I understand, I’ve had my fair share of assholes because they themselves didn’t confirm with me so I prefer a second opinion. When you’ve got it all checked out you can pull your car around to the door here and I’ll help you load them up.”

“They’re beautiful,” Steve says as he works mindlessly, pulling at a periwinkle blue bloom shaped like a firework.

“Yeah, that one’s got a funky name. One of my favorites. Called scabiosa. Or a pincushion flower if you wanna be a little less fun,” Eddie says.

It takes just another two minutes before Steve decides the flowers are as perfect as they could be and back his truck into the loading space. Eddie’s got gloves on now, dragging the buckets out into the sun. The flowers start to really light up and Steve gets butterflies thinking about the wedding tomorrow. Robin in her suit that he’d helped her pick, Chrissy in her dress with petit flowers snuggled into her braid. God, he was definitely going to cry.

“Nice truck,” Eddie comments as they load up the first few buckets of flowers. He gestures to the mud splatters on the tires and edge of the bed. “Work outside?”

“I guess you could say that,” he shrugs, shoving another bunch of flowers up with the rest. A few pieces of hair obviously from Eddie’s bangs have started to weasel loose of the tie and Steve can’t help but notice. He swallows his tongue. “I own a restaurant but we do a lot of farm to table work.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie grins, ducking back into the garage for a bundle of tule which he begins to wrap around the flowers already in the truck. “I’ll have to come by sometime. What’s the name?”

“It’s kind of dumb actually,” Steve laughs and watches Eddie work at securing everything gently. “Farm’s Ahoy.”

“That is kind of dumb,” he laughs too. “But cute.”

“It was an inside joke and seemed like a good idea. I mean, I don’t regret it.”

“No, why should you? I named the shop after a joke too. My best friend from high school used to say my bedroom smelled and looked like a garden- but meant two very different things about it.”

“Oh?” It sounds silly, something so simple and soaked with curiosity leaving his mouth but Steve can’t help it. He steps a little closer to Eddie as if instinctively wanting the answer.

“Yeah, I used to smoke a lot of weed in my room growing up,” He chuckles and hops down from the truck bed. Steve sincerely can’t help the twist in his gut that he gets from watching him do so, all lean and lithe muscle. “But I still loved plants back then. Had less than I do now but it was my private garden, both legal and il.”

“That- I actually really like that joke,” Steve grins and leans up against the side of his truck. “Well, now I think I have to explain too.”

“I think so.” Eddie crosses his arms with a smug look. Steve wants to kiss it off his face, but that’s not something you just do to strangers. Not in broad daylight at least.

“My best friend and I- from high school too actually- we worked at this ice cream shop called Scoops Ahoy when we were in college- I dropped out and Robin finished but whatever. So we worked there and it was this whole thing, little sailor outfits and hats. The whole shebang. So after I bought my current property and started a vegetable garden, then wanted to open the restaurant, we spat a few names around and when she said Farm’s Ahoy I just knew I had too. We were high too, at that point, so it definitely seemed funnier.”

“That’s just perfection, Steve.” Eddie’s laughing and shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand to see Steve better. “I’ll definitely be by sometime soon then.”

“Yes, please, I’ll put your name on a list,” Steve says, as if a list is something he even has.

“Thanks.” Eddie kicks his feet a little and for the first time in their interactions he looks bashful. “Well, I think you’re all set.”

“I uh, I’ve still gotta pay,” Steve reminds him.

“No, this is a gift to the bride from me,” Eddie says with a grin. He takes a few steps back as if to retreat into his safe space again before briefly surging toward Steve to offer up a card. “Text me if anything goes wrong.”

“Will do. Thank you, Eddie, this is very sweet of you.”

“Yeah, well, I try,” he says and soon disappears behind the closing garage door.

Steve tries not to dwell on any of his time at Your Bedroom’s Garden very long, lest he slip into an infatuation with Eddie’s brown eyes and sweat curled hair. Instead he unloads the flowers into his own garage where they’ll sleep overnight before being hauled again down to his barn.

Steve’s property spans across 50 some acres. There’s two barns, one for the livestock and farming and one that he rents out or hosts events in. Then there’s the restaurant beside them, a full dining floor and decked out kitchen. In the far corner down a long gravel road situated away from the public side of his property is the farm house. It’s as large as the rest of his buildings, with 7 guest rooms and 10 (mostly half) bathrooms all for the chance that he gets to host gatherings. Dustin ends up at the farm the most, stays for the summer months and pitches in when he’s off school. Sometimes the other boys Steve used to shepard in his babysitting days, Mike or Lucas with their girlfriends and on the odd occasion Will, stop by for a few days at a time.

Steve agonizes over texting the number Eddie provided him in the few hours before his guests arrive. How is it that the wedding is a day away and he still doesn’t have a date? In the end he settles on leaving the number in his bedside drawer for another occasion. The house fills quickly as dusk arrives and, for the first time since July Fourth last year, Steve’s home is full of light and laughter and easily flowing rosé. His heart feels just as full as he wraps his arm around his best friends.

The big day kicks off earlier than he’d prefer. The photographer and videographer are the first to the scene, followed quickly by the hair and makeup team. Steve does his best to stay by Robin’s side but by the time her mother and Vickie and the other girls are ready and Robin’s up to be dressed Steve takes his que to slip out. He’s careful with his shoes on his walk to the barn, where Dustin’s already dragged the flowers. There’s a few crew tutting around the building that Steve doesn’t recognize but assumes their part of the planners team as they arrange plates and seating.

“I don’t know! Talk to Steve about that!” Dustin shouts from where the small stage has been set up. Steve rolls his eyes as he approaches.

“Alright, alright, what’s the problem?”

Steve stops dead in his tracks when the person Dustin had been arguing with turns around. His hair is down, curly bangs perfectly fanning across his forehead and brushing his eyebrows. Steve risks a glance up and down his body, taking in the dark green of his suit and steel toed boots. His mouth goes dry when Eddie shoots him a knowing smirk.

“Kid here says there’s no amp hookup.”

“I did not, I said that there’s no hookups right here! I’m not in charge of the live music.”

“Check the attitude,” Steve gripes at him, covering his face with a palm. “Uhm, well, are you the Chrissy's best man?”

“As accused.” Eddie nods.

“Alright. Cool, cool. Okay.” Now he understands what the pretty guy from the flower shop is doing here. Steve takes a deep breath and points at Dustin. “This is a you problem now. Find Tommy, please, get him to pull all the stage equipment out and let’s try to find something for what music needs, yeah?”

“But I was just on audio for the speecheses only-”

“Shithead, you’re graduating next year with a degree in audio-what-the-fuck-ever. Get it in gear and find what’s missing.” Dustin opens and closes his mouth a few times before shaking his head and skittering off on his new mission. Steve turns his full attention to Eddie, swallowing hard. “So.”

“So?”

“I did not expect you to be here. Today.”

Eddie laughs heartily, pushing a chunk of hair off his shoulder. Steve’s face gets hotter and he wants to shrivel up and disappear into the collar of his blazer. “No, I guess you didn’t.”

“Sorry about Dustin.”

“It’s okay. I like his spunk.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. “I have never heard someone describe him as having spunk.”

“It’s an endearing trait.”

“Okay, great. Don’t let him know you’re a fan.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie grins. “So I see the flowers aren't out yet?”

“The flowers are my job. Had to be with Robin up until the dress got on, but I’m here now. Why are you down here?”

“Chrissy said the guy on flowers might’ve needed a little help.”

“Right, okay,” Steve huffs. His brain cells start to wake up and he’s getting why he’d been sent to pick up the arrangements in the first place. “Do you see what they’re doing too?”

“Yeah. Master manipulators.”

There’s two thoughts that cross Steve’s mind in a moment's time. He could brush this off, ask to act normally and prove that the happy couple need to keep their noses out of other people’s business. He could accept the date and ask Eddie to dance once the band arrives. He could, if he used enough brain power, convince his brain cells to kick into high gear and spontaneously combust. Maybe not so much on that one.

“Well, since you’re here,” Steve says and starts for the flower buckets across the barn. “I probably could use a hand. Follow me.”

Steve gets a thrill up his spine when Eddie does follow, tight on his heels. They swap Chrissy and Robin stories as they drop bundles of flowers into the vases Chrissy had procured just months after they’d been engaged. Their laughs sound good together. Eddie explains how he’d opened his shop with his uncle after an accident at work left Wayne laid up with a good payout. Eddie had done all the heavy lifting, overhauling a vacant office studio into his dream. Wayne did some training online and learned quickly how to run the numbers and orders.

“Yeah, y’know, it’s pretty perfect. I just don’t have my own greenhouse yet.”

“I can lend you one.”

“What?” Eddie’s hand stalls on the last vase, almost knocking it over. Steve reaches out to stabilize it, hands firmly covering Eddie’s own. Both their faces are the same beet red as one of that night's sauces. He hadn’t exactly thought through his offer before it left his mouth.

“I mean, I’ve got four of them. I can make some room in one- actually, yeah we moved the squash over by the compost pile so. Plenty of room.”

“Steve I don’t- how much do you want for it?”

“Oh, no,” Steve shakes his head, pulling his hands away and cracking his knuckles. Money talk always makes him a little nauseous. “Free of charge. So long as I get some pretty flowers out of it too.”

“I’ll grow you the prettiest damn flowers you’ve ever seen, Steve Harrington.”

Steve likes how that promise sounds, especially when Eddie shakes his hand.

They finish soon after, both making the short trek back up to the farm house to check on their corresponding brides and knocking elbows the whole way. Steve’s voice gets caught in his throat when Robin pins his boutonnière to his lapel.

“Are you having a good day?” She asks and tucks a short curl behind her ear, exposing the pearl earrings he knows her grandmother gifted her.

“Yeah,” He says earnestly with tears in his eyes. Nothing could have prepared him for the emotions in his heart seeing Robin ready to start her next phase.“Yeah, Robs. It’s a beautiful day.”

Steve can’t help but make eye contact with Eddie through the service, especially since they’re both up by the altar. Eddie shoots him a wink when the officiant declares them unified in marriage. They kiss, and giggle, and dash back down the aisle that is simple grass. Steve’s on the brink of full on crying. The videographer follows them back up to the hill and Steve has to clock in to his maid-of-honor duties again. He ushers everyone from their seats outside in to the barn with the promise of food, drinks, and a lovely reception. He loses track of Eddie in the process.

There’s a bit of disappointment when Steve still can’t locate him by the time Chrissy and Robin are back in their new dresses. It lingers in his bones until he announces the first dance and, after a bit of applause, the sound of acoustic guitar flows through the amps he’d given a once over a few hours ago to confirm they’d work. Eddie is standing beside them again, guitar in his arms and microphone held a few inches from his face by a stand.

Against his suggestions, the girls had decided on Shania Twain (You’re Still the One) as their first dance. Even last night if you’d asked Steve how he felt about that decision he may have implied a bit of disagreement. But now, comparing Eddie’s song to the original, he understands their choice. It’s a meaningful song and artist for them both. The lyrics, as told by a close friend, seem to hold a new weight in Steve’s ears.

It’s a beautiful arrangement that leaves him with twice as many questions as he’d gone into it with. There’s a small instrumental break towards the end, where Robin had given Steve a few more instructions: the only thing keeping his head tethered to the ground.

“Alright, everyone, now’s our time to join the happy couple on the dance floor,” He says into the mic, crossing the floor to be closer to where Eddie’s still performing. He can hear him better over here, that’s all. Robin and Chrissy’s family and friends slowly shuffle out to finish the song.

Eddie’s voice is gentle as he finishes out the last few lines of Shania Twain before swapping songs and morphing into something much raspier, with a little more swing. “I’m so glad we made it, look how far we’ve come my…baby! It’s been a long day, baby, things ain’t been going my way, you know I need you here…”

Steve watches Eddie watch his guitar, making sure his fingers are in just the right spot before considering the crowd and the microphone again. It was a song Steve had thrown into the first dance hat himself. You Are the Best Thing, Ray LaMontagne. A song his mother used to dance around the kitchen with him to. He’s got starry tears in his eyes again when Robin catches his gaze and blows him a kiss.

The song is over almost as soon as it started and Steve is the first to applaud. Eddie’s grinning down the stage at him and after he’s sure his guitar is settled into its cradle he’s leaping off it toward Steve. The DJ takes his place quickly.

“You didn’t tell me you could sing. I guess I should have assumed but-”

“They told me not to,” Eddie shrugs with a goofy grin. “Said it’d just make you like me more.”

Steve knows he should feel embarrassed but can’t find it in himself to. “They put you up to this, huh?”

“A little bit.” Eddie tucks the guitar pick he’d been fidgeting with into the pocket of his jacket and straightens. “Is it working?”

“You know,” Steve starts. He tries to put together something that can at least feign a little annoyance. But in their defense, Steve had asked Robin to find him a date and though this wasn’t the typical approach he sure couldn’t argue with their pick. He’d been sold the second he stepped foot into that damn flower shop. “More than I think any of you could have expected.”

Eddie pumps his fist in the air, an unsaid ‘score!’ hanging between them. Then he bends at the waist, hair flowing in sheets down over his shoulder and Steve suddenly wants to know what it feels like between his fingers, and offers out his hand with a mischievous look. “Might I have this dance, good sir?”

Steve plucks the smallest scabiosa from his boutonnière with one hand and takes Eddie’s outstretched with the other. When Eddie rises, he tucks the flower into the hair in front of Eddie’s ear. His hunch had been right, his curls were soft and Eddie’s cheeks did look good in a crimson blush.

“You may.”

[ennaku-sirri-da]

It’s true love indeed

Day 6 of @smileformeweek : Again

[ ID: Traditional fanart colored digitally. It is of the game Smile For Me and involves the wedding ceremony of Trencil Varnnia and Jimothan Botch. It is of my AU Roseverse.

Jimothan and Trencil are getting married. In my interpretation they are both Indian, Jim is from the South and Trencils from the North. They are doing the Varmala ceremony. The garlands are made of colors of red, green and white flowers.

Jimothan is wearing his traditional dress, that is, a yellowish-white shirt and dhoti with gold trim, along with a shawl with gold trim draped on his left side. He also has a golden chain. On in his head is the tripundram mark. Footwear is dark sandals with toe rings. Jimothan has many healed scars, burns and bite marks from raising a difficult baby such as his son, Parsley. His dusty brown hair is streaked with lighter colors as a sign of aging.

Trencil is wearing his traditional dress, that is, a red turban decorated with beads and pearls, and a peacock feather to top it off, he wears a dark blue sherwani with pink floral patterns on it plus a dark green shawl covering most of his right side with yellow, pink, blue floral and teal-leaved patterns. He wears red dhoti pants with rose-pink jutti shoes that have purple floral patterns. On his face, he wears gold eyeshadow with glitter near his eyes. He has some of women's elements in his jewellery, like the gold and white maang tikka, with a gemmed flower shape as centerpiece. He also wears a nath and earrings with gold, white, red, pink- with floral motifs. On his hands is floral dark-red henna. In appearance, Trencil looks more old and wrinkled, with red eyes and claws as nails. His ears are also very long and droopy like a bat's. His hair is naturally black as can be seen at the ends but rest of it is dyed dark blonde.

Jimothan and Trencil looks at each other lovingly with smiles. Jim reaches a hand out to put the garland on Trencil while Trencil holds his arm. With their other hand they both hold up a brightly colored umbrella decorated with gold strips at its point, and mirror pieces through the body. Flowers and grass, with small white balls hedge the bottom, from them hangs arrangements of roses and white flowers strung together. The interior of the umbrella is a light pink, covering Jim and Trencil.

From either side, two hands throw pastel flower petals on the newlyweds. The text below reads , first in Tamil, red, " Botch " then black " weds" in English, then dark green "Varnnia" in Hindi. So it is " Botch weds Varnnia". The background is a gradient of, from top to bottom, light yellow, green, blue, pink. The whole picture has a warmer, orange tone to it.end ID]

//

They're getting married...again!!!!

Trencils wife is probably dead? And Jimothan is divorced from his. So yeah this is both of their second marriage.

Here's the rough sketch I did beforehand of both their full outfits if anyone wants to see, some things changed in the final product

[ ID: Pencil sketch showing Jimothan and Trencil standing, forward facing in the clothes I've described above, with few changes. End ID]

Man... do you think Trencil, hid Jimothans name in his henna🤭

Oh! In case you didn't read the image description-- they're both Indian in my headcanon. GOOOO!!!

Honestly if you're confused about some details reading the image description will help.

I think this is legitimately one of my BEST drawings of 2024, holy shit, also THEME SONG

[sweethoneyrose83]

Can you do a Montgomery Gator themed bouquet?

Creating a Montgomery Gator themed Bouquet: 

1. Base Greenery: Start with a base of greenery to represent the lush environment of the gator's habitat. You can use ferns, eucalyptus, or even palm leaves for a tropical touch.

2. Gator-themed Accessories: - Plush Gator Toy: Include a small plush toy or figurine of a gator to be the centerpiece of the bouquet. - Miniature Gator Eggs: Add small plastic or decorative eggs to represent gator eggs. - Gator Print Ribbon: Wrap the bouquet stems with a ribbon featuring a gator print or in green color to match the theme.

3. Floral Accents: - White Flowers: White flowers can represent the teeth of the gator. Consider using white roses or lilies. - Blue Flowers: Blue flowers can represent the water where gators live. Blue hydrangeas or delphiniums could work well. - Yellow Flowers: Yellow flowers can represent the eyes of the gator. Use yellow daisies or sunflowers for a pop of color.

4. Additional Elements: - River Rocks: Scatter some river rocks or pebbles at the base of the bouquet to add texture and enhance the gator's natural habitat theme. - Miniature Swamp Plants: If available, small artificial swamp plants or moss can add authenticity to the theme.

5. Container: - Choose a container that fits the theme, such as a wicker basket or a vase wrapped in burlap to give it a rustic feel. You could also use a toy boat or a miniature swamp scene as the container. 

[sheepwithspecs]

March CarvRhos Ficlet: Blind Date

|| FFXIV || Rated G || (3/??) ||

Prompt List Here!

Today is technically day four, but I wanted to use this day to catch up and write the idea I had for day two.

Gerald and A’brohka found dead in Limsa Lominsa, cause unknown.

Never in her life has she felt so godsdamned foolish.

The table is beautiful, all things considered. White linen tablecloth, crystal wineglasses, a decanter of Lohmani red. Silver cloches cover the dishes, and a basket of freshly baked bread is seated to the right of an elegant floral centerpiece. Candles flicker in their sconces—beeswax, not tallow—and in the corner the orchestrion is playing a soft concerto. It’s the sort of luxury that she’d once had to convince herself she would hate, in those long-ago days when such things were so far out of reach as to belong in the realm of imagination.

If nothing else, the lavish setting makes her feel more confident in her decision to dress up for the occasion. After all, it wasn’t every day that she was propositioned for a blind date, courtesy of A’brohka. She’d been reluctant to accept at first, unwilling to even humor such a ridiculous request, but the other Sirens had managed to wear her down. The girls had been delighted to “assist” her with her wardrobe, treating their surly captain as though she were a child’s paper lady. They’d taken great pains in lining her eyes, softening her features and talking her into a dab of rouge on her cheekbones. She was even wearing jewelry to mark the occasion: a pair of ruby earrings, gifted by the previous captain on the day of her succession.

What a shame. Sighing inwardly, she glares at her so-called date from across the table. Carvallain returns the expression tenfold, mouth pursed in disapproval at his current circumstances. The only thing worse than seeing him at the table was his clear shock in seeing her upon entering the private dining room. She was accused of entrapment, he of libel; insults were hurled and fingers pointed on both sides.

Eventually they’d calmed down enough to work out the truth: they’d been double-crossed by a pair of traitorous first mates. Funnily enough, both Gerald and A’brohka had been suspiciously absent during the day’s preparations, with neither crew being able to pinpoint their exact whereabouts. Clearly the two had foreseen their captains’ anger and made good their escape.

“Damn that conspiring little—” Carvallain had bitten off his insult, jaw clenched and fingers tapping a furious rhythm on the table. He’d cleaned up as well, with neatly trimmed hair tucked behind his long ears and his silk shirt traded for a waistcoat of shimmering blue brocade. Despite her hatred of the man, the idea that he’d also wasted his time preparing for a date made her feel only marginally better.

Now they both found themselves stuck in limbo, unable to salvage the remains of the night and yet unwilling to leave. A damn shame, she repeats to herself, n’ a waste o’ good food. She grabs a piece of sourdough from the breadbasket, crunching down on its thick crust and chewing morosely. What am I even doing here? she wonders, staring blankly at the covered dishes. What did I possibly think would happen?

The answer is glaringly obvious, whether or not she wants to admit it. She would rather die than face that sort of embarrassment, even in introspection. I ain’t lonely, she argues with the sardonic little voice in her head, finishing off the sourdough and reaching blindly for another piece. I’m just….

The heat rises to her cheeks as she remembers the way A’brohka regaled them all with fanciful descriptions of the gentleman who’d all but begged on bended knee for a private audience with the Siren captain. Tall, handsome, fashionable, but clearly not afraid to get his hands dirty when the need arose. Piercing eyes and a lithe frame, a sailor’s body with a nobleman’s heart. A well-traveled man with a love of the sea. I’m such a fool; I should’ve known. Who else in Limsa would fit such a description? She wants to bury her face in her hands, crawl to the nearest ledge, and roll into the ocean. Perhaps the Navigator would show more mercy than her own thrice-damned crew.

She glances at him infrequently from beneath her painted lashes, wondering what stories the Krakens must have fed him in order for him to agree to this. Had they been forced to lie outright, or had they simply embellished the truth the same way as A’brohka? Deep down, she hopes it’s the latter. That something in the way they described her piqued his interest, at least enough to—

Foolish.

Once again she reaches for the basket, only to find her fingers brushing against something warm and solid and soft, but definitely not bread. Startled, she looks up in time to see him quickly choose a piece of rye, fingers clumsily grabbing for his napkin. Their eyes meet and it is he who looks away first, clearing his throat with an awkward cough.

“It would be a shame to let the meal to go to waste,” he states, directing his words to the wall sconce.

“My thoughts exactly.” She takes the cloche from her still-warm plate, breathing in the heavenly scent of minced garlic and herbs, tender meat and roasted popotoes in their skins.  

“Reservations at the Bismarck are hard to come by, after all, and there’s no real reason to give up the table now—that is, we might as well—it’s not as though you… what I mean to say is….” He lapses into uncomfortable silence, knotting the napkin in his long fingers. She stares at them, her own hands tingling with the thought of touching them again, this time on purpose.

Why did ye come? Four simple words, and yet for once she can’t bring herself to open her big mouth. Why do ye stay? Somehow, the lack of a proper answer would be far worse than the never-knowing. Besides, it’s easy enough to guess.

“Oi.” She waits to catch his eye again, offering a crooked smirk that’s more genuine than any look she’s given him so far tonight.

“Shut up n’ eat.”  

[lazytrunkgames]

🎉 Sunday Party Decor Ideas: Elevate Your Celebration! 🎈✨

Welcome to the ultimate Sunday inspiration session for party decorations that'll leave your guests in awe! 🥳 Whether it's a cozy gathering or an extravagant bash, we've got you covered with these creative decor ideas:

Twinkling Terrace: Hang string lights and lanterns on your outdoor terrace for a magical atmosphere that lights up the night.

Color Pop Corner: Create a vibrant corner with colorful balloons, streamers, and a photo booth backdrop for picture-perfect memories.

Garden Elegance: Set up a charming garden party with floral centerpieces, rustic wooden accents, and draped fabrics for a touch of elegance.

Boho Chic Vibes: Embrace the bohemian spirit with macrame hangings, floor cushions, and a mix of patterns for a laid-back yet stylish ambiance.

Movie Night Magic: Transform your space into a cozy cinema with oversized pillows, popcorn stations, and a makeshift ""ticket booth"" entrance.

Nautical Escape: Host a beachy soirée with seashell centerpieces, driftwood decor, and blue and white color schemes reminiscent of the ocean.

Glamorous Gala: Go all out with glittering chandeliers, sequined tablecloths, and metallic accents for a Hollywood-inspired gala.

Tropical Paradise: Transport guests to an island getaway with tropical foliage, tiki torches, and vibrant fruit displays.

Remember, it's all about personal touches that reflect your style and the occasion. Mix and match these ideas to create a party that's uniquely yours. 🎊🎉 Don't forget to snap pics and share your decor masterpiece with us!

[lumiereandcogsworth]

(forgive my lateness my brain is scrampled egg 🤒) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ADAM!!!!!! I know birthday plans are hard to think about BUT!!! What would the THEME of his birthday extravaganza be? What flowers are in the centerpieces? What's the color scheme? What is Adam wearing? What are they having for dessert?

(it’s okay love!!!!!!) thank you!!!!!!💙💙🥳🥳 so i tried to piece this together and i felt it best to make an aesthetic board:

so HERE is the vibe!!!! i think the theme and vibe would be gold and masquerade!!!! adam would probably wear a suit similar to that one i have there, blue & white with florals. something fun but also a comfy since it’s HIS DAY. (and belle is definitely wearing a blue dress with floral print as well that compliments him so nicely). for flowers i mostly imagine white roses, but other white flowers as well. aaaand there’s gonna be a WHOLE table of dessert 100%. every possible dessert will be here. but adam’s definitely going for the chocolate cake first 🤌

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

The Butler, Romantic

"Remember, we'll meet here after two hours, okay boys?" Said Lizzie, a smile on her face. Beside her are Sieglinde, Doll, Paula, and Mey-Rin. Across from her is Sebastian, Joanne, Ciel, Alois, Bard, and Finnian. Sebastian place a hand to his chest and bows, "We will see you then my lady."

And with that the groups left into separate directions. The season was winter, it's cold yet nice for a typical February month, just a few days away from the holiday that is Valentine's Day.

"Isn't Valentine's Day lovely?" Said Joanne as he sighs happily as the men walk into a floral shop. The air was thick with many flowers of different sweets and textures around the room, causing Ciel's nose to scrunch up in a flinch. "I guess you can say that... Just different now since all of us have someone on this day." Said Bard with a shrug of his broad shoulders. The shop owner looked at the lot at last and spoke up gentle, "What can I help with you gentleman?" Sebastian stepped forward, a warm glow to him somehow, and spoke firmly yet... nice- "We have come to purchase some flower arrangements for Valentine's Day sir." The shop owner smiles a beaming gleam as he nods, "You have chosen wisely men!" Suddenly, the man pauses and stares at the Earl of Phantomhive who stares back in confusion. "What is it?" "Erm, I'm sorry. I just thought I saw two of you."

Ciel snuck a glance behind Finny after the shop owner walked to talk with Sebastian more, looking to the young man with peacock gem eyes and dark short hair. "Sorry Ciel." "It's fine Ciel."

Unlike the usual outings, a new guest has joined in the form of the real non dead Ciel Phantomhive, who many of the public assume is either dead or too sickly to be Earl. No one besides the group and the household know of the two working together taking turns of the names, and on special outings like this do the two truly look like twins with matching clothes and eye patches to not throw off people around them.

The ladies sat at a isolated table a busy tea room, roses decoration all the table centerpieces creating a sweet smell with the scent of tea and perfume, among each member is a box wrapped with their bags. Lizzie claps as they sat down, "I'm so happy we're doing this. We haven't had the pleasure to go out just us girls often and just before Valentine's Day as well." She giggles at the last part. Paula giggles beside her, "I agree Lady Lizzie, this is most exciting." The lady Midford glanced across the table to Sieglinde, who's dark hair is still cut short in an adorable bob while dressed in a lovely green dress, and Doll, who at the moment is wearing a lovely blue gown handed down by Lizzie herself with a scent of roses coming off her neck.

The previous circus performer smiled and spoke, not hiding her accent as much, "This certain is a new thing for me. I never had a partner nor had a excuse to shopping." Mey-Rin, who sits beside her and who's hair is tied in a bun dressed normal, looked to her and joined in, "I agree, yes I do! Never have I ever thought I'd ever find someone to spend Valentine's day with."

"What are your guys plans for Valentine's Day anyway?" Asked Alois as he stands by Ciel looking at the wild roses and daisies. Finny, not missing a beat and holding a large group of white lilies, with sparkling eyes and a big smile said, "I'm taking Valentina to the gardens for a nice picnic! She mentioned how much she wanted to see the stars and thanks to Mister Sebastian I can cook some good Mofongo!" Bard smiles as he picked up a pansy, "I'm grateful Lady Elizabeth gave me permission to use the kitchen and the garden gazebo for the night, I can't wait to dazzle my woman like the angel she is!" Sebastian chuckles, "You have been married with Paula and Finny and Miss Valentina has been engaged for hardly a month already and you're energies are over the moon." The chef lightly shoved the butler, "Come on now you should know why. What are your plans for your lil' lady?" The butler in black smiles and pluck up a red rose before sniffing it, his eyes shining, "I plan to cook her a grand meal and take her to a ballet. She's been talking about seeing this one performance of Cinderella so I figured I take her on the very first night."

Alois giggles and spoke up, "Does that imply the Phantomhive manor will be mostly empty? A whole empty manor for the young Earl and his Valentine?" He giggles as Ciel shoved him and his brother, out in public as "Sirius", speaks, "What are your plans anyway?" Ciel thought for a moment before answering, "Maybe some dinner and a London stroll."

Meanwhile, the ladies' pastries and tea has arrived to the table and conversations of the date in plan are being spoken. "I swear I have a sneaking feeling Alois will spoil me and Smile." Sighed Doll as she sipped her tea, her eye beaming in whoa after she took that sip. Lizzie giggled and asked, "Does he always though? Surely you'd be used to it by now." Doll shook her head, "Nah, even if I should I can't get over it. It's a nice feeling though, being pampered by a cutie like that, especially at night." With a eyebrow risen, Sieglinde queried, "Why at night?" All the women looked to Doll who simply grins with a look in her eye. It didn't a while until it sunk in her meaning.

"M-My Goodness you already have-!?" Mey-Rin shrieked silently in a flush face, shocked her master would be already be doing such things with two people, even if it's been a whole two years since most of the relationships started. Doll chuckled and shook her hand, "No no, we haven't gotten that far yet, just some touching and maybe some-" With pink cheeks Lizzie scanned the area fast while speaking a hushed warning, "Doll! You should speak about things like that in public!" The brunette tilted her head and glance around. "Why? No one's listening and it's normal."

After a moment of silence, a surprise of Paula speaks up, "Baldroy tends to look rather hungry in the bedroom." "Paula!" Doll snorted, "Well I can't say I'm too surprised you both are already there." Paula blushes as she speaks more softer, a small shy smile on her lips, "He seems the type to be rough a bit but he's actually quiet gentle... he even ask what I prefer a lot." After a small sip of her tea, Mey-Rin surprise everyone even more, "When you guys... have those moments with your partners... do you take the reins or-?" "Damn, does Suit let you take charge?" Asked Doll, surprised most with the maid's question. Mey-Rin, blushing more, answers with a small squeak, "W-Well he's mostly tired after work, he is..! A-Also, he tends to smell a lot like peppermint which is very nice, it is."

The three, then four after Sieglinde chimed in, chatted a bit of the men in their lives while Lizzie watches. Then, watching and listening got dull with her so she joined in, "So, you know how Sebastian sometimes roll his tongue when speaking his Rs? Well, on certain times he tends to do that when he kiss-" The table squealed some and giggles and continued to chat around.

One the morning of Valentine's Day, it seemed like a normal day at first, until both Phantomhive Lords and the servants gotten some cards and roses sent from those whom they too have sent cards and roses too earlier on.

After breakfast and the normal schedules of the nobles until lunch the plans of the day itself was no pushed into swing. Food being prepared, flower assembles being created, settings made, last checks of things done.

Everything by the end is perfect when the night comes and the respected parties go to here the other halves of their hearts to start the day as planned. The manor, besides Finny in the garden with his fiance, was as planned mostly empty with the real Ciel Phantomhive off to Joanne's gardens of his manor with Sieglinde, leaving the other twin in the manor with the two he planned to spend time with. Doll snuggled against his shoulder as they ride the carriage back to the said empty mansion, Alois holding his hand the side next to him, boxes of new clothes and things tied together in the spare seats across from the three.

On the other side of the trees in the city of London walk a man dressed in a lovely shade of emerald greens and blacks beside a beautiful young lady with hair of fine gold done up with a black ribbon wearing a lovely red dress side by side down the street of night, a happy glow among them like a bubble of sorts. "That ballet was lovely Sebastian. The outfits were beautiful and the music was lovely!" Said Lizzie with a giggle and a snuggle of his arm, smiling at the rumbling chuckle of his chest, "I'm glad you enjoyed that." A moment of silence filled the two as they walked more, the candle lights of the street glowing so hauntingly beautiful. Finally, the lady spoke, "Sebastian, what do you think Valentine's Day will look like for us years ahead?"

The butler pauses and ponders, he surely would want to amaze his lady ten times every year but would she want that in the end? "Well, I would want to see you smile much more. I would even say I would want to you smile every day from this day forth my dear." Lizzle giggles, stopping when the man stops walking. "The first time I met you, you were crying over the lose of a boy whom you knew wasn't who your heart truly wanted to please to the rules of the world. Over time I began to see the you you tried to bury away from the eyes of everyone, and for that level of trust made me love you more and more beyond your dear precious smile..."

Lizzie watched as Sebastian free himself her gentle grasp and slowly knelt to her, a hand to his heart, as his voice grew tender as he speaks, "I swear to you my dear that I will always try to make you smile, to love every piece of you, cherish you to the fullest and continue to do so long after your last breath. I promise to stand beside you through every battle, big or small, and treat you like the Queen you are to me." Her breath gets stuck in her chest that grew tight as she sees him reach in his breast pocket, her eyes widening and filling with tears fast. "I may not know much of the traditions of human culture, I may not be the man society wish you to have, but I swear to you with all my being I will never ever stop loving you for not a single day goes by where I haven't loved you after you shown me so many beautiful things to know..."

Carefully, he takes out a box and opens it, showing the maiden the lovely ring inside the velvet walls, his eyes clearly growing misty as a lump grew in his throat as it became clear from his words, "My dear Lizzie, I understand it's custom to bring forth a piece of jewelry to create a bond stronger than anything I've seen, and so I did just that. With proper permission from your family, as the world ahead of us as my witness, with the bottom of my heart...will you do me in doing the honors of making me the happiest being of all the world can more can offer....and marry me and be with me for the rest of time...?"

Lizzie hiccuped as she cries, her gloved hands covering her shaking lips, her heart beating so fast. Sebastian shifted to stand as he quickly formed an apology, "Li-Lizzie, I'm sorry-" The man was stopped with the force of his dear jumping onto him, her arms tightly hung around his neck as her voice coats her ears as the two fell to the ground. "Yes! YES! I would be more than honored to marry you..!" She sobs into his neck, her face pink and such a mess of tears and makeup but neither care at the moment. A smile appears to Sebastian's lips as he sits up, gently takes Lizzie's hand and slides the ring onto her gentle finger. Lizzie sniffs and hugs him again, this time their lips connected as one as their hearts beat as one.

This is part of my Black Butler AU, mostly word for word from a RP me and my sister did recently, still heavily dedicated to @annoyinglyshinycherryblossom, @nullb1rdbones, @sebalizzie, @docmartensanddietcoke, and @onehellofashadynerd

[homular]

Charming Cuisine: French Country Kitchen Decor Ideas

Full Interior Design Solutions in Bhubaneswar: If you're unsure of where to start when designing your kitchen in the French country style, start by picturing a simple, rustic French farmhouse kitchen. Imagine periwinkle linens and a huge oak table with sunlight streaming in. Using natural materials and light, airy hues, French country warmth and familiarity are achieved.

Step 1

Pick a paint color. Choose a shade of fresh summer grass, off-white, yellow, light blue, pale terra cotta, or any combination of those. Choosing checkered blue or yellow window coverings is a good idea if your walls are white. Wainscoting and chair rails should either be coated with a clear finish or stained in a light tint; they shouldn't be overly polished. Images of flowers or French cafes in bright, quirky frames should be shown. Simply frame them with black. The backs of your sink and stove should be covered with ceramic tile backsplashes with roosters and flowers.

Step 2

Choose a table with a thick slab of wood for the tabletop that has a rustic appearance. Give it a faint color wash. Chairs might be light wood, painted, or made of cast or wrought iron. Curves in the ironwork and pillows with floral or pattern Best Home Interior Designer in Bhubaneswar help soften this. Tables and chairs can be made of wood that hasn't been stained.

Step 3

Cabinets might be painted off-white, pale blue, yellow, or green or stained in a light color. Despite having rustic accents, a French country Modular Kitchen Design in Bhubaneswar must never be unduly dark or heavy. It is best to lightly stain or paint large hardwood tables and cabinets with light wood accents.

Step 4

Install floors made of brick, stone, or wood, and cover them with rugs made of cotton that are of generous size. To keep the décor French country rustic, if you want a fireplace, construct it out of stone. As a mantle, position a substantial beam over the fireplace. Put some light paint on it.

Step 5

Add off-white plaster in between the beams and install beamed ceilings. Utilize ceramic containers in various colors as decor. The table's centerpiece should be a big green plant in a pale blue pot.

Rakesh Rout

www.homular.in

9853233422

[aphroditestummyrolls]

color and light

Hello! Have a lovely moment with Yusuf and our ladies!

The ball was lovely— the Festa d’Inverno was certainly the North Coast’s festival of the year. Princess Christina had not oversold it.

Strings and woodwinds swelled through the ballroom with great sweeps of music. Nobility from every corner of the Central Sea twirled in elegant circles, swirling like a kaliedoscope across the floor. It seemed like the whole room was encased in frost, sparkling in a thin net of crystal beads that draped like gossamer tents over the chandeliers and down the walls. The terrace outside the windows glittered a lagoon blue, reflecting the moonlight in the snow. It, and the crystal webbing, matched his robes.

Perhaps, if he remained very still over by the window, he could camouflage himself in plain sight.

He entertained himself with the towering floral centerpieces. They exploded with heavy greenery, eucalyptus fronds and froths of little white buds that nearly overshadowed their more colorful companions— columns of lavender, periwinkles, and soft little pink flowers Yusuf had never seen before. There were no large blooms, not even a rose, but they weren’t missed. The densely packed heads of tiny flowers looked like dots of spring colors hibernating under a snowstorm of white.

It was a piece of art. Like an impressionistic painting made up of tiny dots, just color and light and feeling.

He recognized them from the greenhouse. From memories of sage green eyes gazing over at him past the rows of carefully maintained greenery, the feel of hands brushing his fingertips across pots of verdant little seedlings. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell fresh tilled earth and feel the manufactured warmth of summer in the dead of winter.

If it weren’t for Andromache, Quynh, and Nile, that vase of flowers would be the most compelling company in the whole party.

“You’re quiet.”

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear, he thought, smiling into his champagne.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yusuf,” Andromache fixed him with a wry look “you’re hiding behind the flowers— you’re a literal wallflower.”

“That’s not your usual style.” Nile piped up, coming up on her other side.

For a woman in plate armor, she was quieter than she had any right to be.

“Easy to sneak up on, too.” Quynh raised an elegant eyebrow, leaning into her wife’s side as she studied him. “What’s going on, Yusuf?”

Thanks for playing! ❤️

[clickthing]

Unleashing Creativity: Hydrangea Bouquets for Every Style

When it comes to floral arrangements, hydrangea bouquets are a versatile choice that can be tailored to suit any aesthetic. From classic to contemporary designs, the beauty of hydrangeas knows no bounds. At Floral Beanie, we take pride in curating a stunning collection of hydrangea bouquets that cater to every style preference. Whether you're a fan of timeless elegance, modern minimalism, or vibrant bursts of color, our range of hydrangea bouquets will exceed your expectations.

Classic Charm: Timeless Hydrangea and Rose Bouquets

For those who appreciate the beauty of classic floral arrangements, our hydrangea and rose bouquets are an exquisite choice. The combination of delicate roses and lush hydrangeas creates a harmonious blend of elegance and charm. Opt for a romantic bouquet featuring soft pastel hues for a wedding or anniversary celebration. Alternatively, choose a bolder color palette with deep red roses and vibrant blue or purple hydrangeas for a statement arrangement that exudes sophistication.

Contemporary Chic: Modern Hydrangea Bouquets

If you're drawn to modern and contemporary designs, our selection of hydrangea bouquets will surely captivate your attention. Embrace simplicity with a monochromatic arrangement featuring a single color of hydrangeas, such as pure white or vibrant blue. The clean lines and minimalist aesthetic of these bouquets make them perfect for sleek and modern interiors. For a touch of uniqueness, consider a cascading bouquet where hydrangeas gracefully spill over the edges, creating an eye-catching focal point.

Vibrant and Playful: Hydrangea and Sunflower Bouquets

When it comes to adding a pop of color and playfulness to your floral arrangements, our hydrangea and sunflower bouquets are an ideal choice. The combination of the large, cheerful blooms of sunflowers with the lush clusters of hydrangeas creates a vibrant and lively display. These bouquets are perfect for celebrations, birthdays, or simply brightening someone's day with their joyful presence. Choose a mix of yellow sunflowers and multi-colored hydrangeas for a truly eye-catching arrangement.

Personalization at its Finest: Customized Hydrangea Bouquets

At Floral Beanie, we understand the importance of personalization when it comes to floral arrangements. We offer the option to customize your hydrangea bouquets to suit your unique preferences. From selecting specific colors and varieties of hydrangeas to choosing complementary flowers and foliage, our team of skilled florists will work closely with you to bring your vision to life. Personalized hydrangea bouquets make for unforgettable gifts or stunning centerpieces that reflect your personal style and sentiments.

Floral Beanie: Your Destination for Hydrangea Bouquets

When it comes to finding the perfect hydrangea bouquet for any occasion, Floral Beanie is your go-to florist. With our commitment to quality and attention to detail, we ensure that every hydrangea bouquet is crafted with the utmost care and precision. Our extensive collection also includes a wide range of rose bouquets and sunflower bouquets, allowing you to explore various floral options to suit your preferences. Whether you're looking to express love, celebrate a special milestone, or simply add beauty to your surroundings, Floral Beanie has the perfect bouquet to meet your needs.

Experience the Splendor of Hydrangea Bouquets

Hydrangea bouquets have an undeniable allure that can transform any space and evoke a sense of natural beauty. From classic to contemporary designs, these versatile blooms offer endless possibilities for creating captivating floral arrangements. Whether you prefer the timeless charm of hydrangeas and roses, the modern elegance of minimalist designs, or the vibrant energy of hydrangeas and sunflowers, Floral Beanie has the perfect hydrangea bouquet to suit your style. Explore our collection today and experience the splendor of hydrangea bouquets firsthand.

[merrybrides]

Bridal Shower Theme Ideas to Inspire Your Perfect Celebration

If you're in charge of planning and hosting a bridal shower, chances are you've been giving possible themes a great deal of thought. This is a party the bride-to-be will remember for the rest of her life, so it makes sense that you want it to be both unforgettable and special. So, how do you throw a bridal shower to remember? Ultimately, your goal should be to plan a party that's reflective of the guest of honor while also pleasing a multi-generational crowd.

Doing so ultimately begins with choosing the right theme. While there's no rule that says you need a theme, having one helps inspire your color palette, décor, games, food, and more. So, if you need inspiration, let these perfect bridal shower theme ideas get your wheels turning.

Champagne Brunch

Your guests will be lining up to say "I do" to a waffle bar and sparkling mimosa station. Serve up beautiful bowls of fruit, fresh pastries, and plenty of chilled champagne.

Nautical Affair

Whether the bride and her shipmates are staying dry on land or heading out on a yacht, you can pull off a nautical bridal shower theme with navy blue hues, stripes, anchors, ship wheels, and sailor's hats. Make sure to add Bobby Darin's "Beyond the Sea" to the playlist.

Beach Bonanza

Like a nautical bridal shower, a beach bridal shower has coastal vibes—but this one is all about sand and sunshine. Create a color palette with aquamarine hues and incorporate seashells and starfish.

Black-Tie Glitter and Glitz

For the bride who loves dressing to the nines, invite guests to get dolled up in their fanciest outfits. Decorate with anything sparkly and glittery, and score definite bonus points if there's a chandelier involved.

Backyard Bliss

Paradise awaits in your own backyard. Transform an outdoor space into a cheerful and relaxed setting for a casual bridal shower. Incorporate fun floral arrangements, twinkle lights, and traditional picnic food. Plus—this is the perfect excuse to give your backyard a makeover.

Tea Party

For the girl who loves all things floral, delicious, and dainty, you should definitely consider a bridal tea party. You can keep it classically British or switch it up with a Mad Hatter theme. Either way, serve a refreshing assortment of artisanal tea, scrumptious scones, and tasty cucumber sandwiches.

Paris Romance

Celebrate love with a shower that pays homage to the city of light and love. Incorporate the Eiffel Tower into the decorations and serve up French wines, cheeses, and desserts. The final touch? Press play on an Édith Piaf recording.

All-White Bridal Shower

The day is fast approaching where the bride is going to wear all white. Get in the spirit with an all-white shower.

Gatsby Bridal Shower

Throw a bridal fête fit for Daisy Buchanan with flapper dresses and feathered headbands. Serve up classic Prohibition cocktails like sidecars (made of cognac, triple sec, and lemon juice) and Gin Rickeys (a combo of gin, lime juice, and seltzer).

Glam Pajama Party

Remember how much fun slumber parties were as a little girl? It'll be an awesome girls' night in, complete with pizza, drinks, candy, games, and a movie (we're thinking Bridesmaids). You can host this at your own home or up the ante and reserve a suite at a hotel for the ultimate chill out session, with the option of spa access to boot (and you won't be the one cleaning up popcorn the next day).

Shabby-Chic

Channel romantically rustic vibes with delicately distressed décor, tea served in mason jars, hand-drawn signage, and baby's breath centerpieces. Add some homemade treats (pie would be oh-so perfect) for a personal touch. You can include the bridesmaids or the whole guest list by inviting everyone to bring their favorite desserts à la a potluck dessert table.

Love Is Sweet

Love is sweet and the bridal shower will be, too. A candy-centered bridal shower lends itself to bright, colorful decorations. Bring on the dessert bar filled with candy and treats. Remember to have some sugar-free candy for any guests with food sensitivities. You can also get customized M&M's in the bride's wedding colors, with her name, or "I Do," or whatever you choose—even an image of the bride (or her spouse-to-be).

Country Chic

For a country-lovin' bride, ask guests to don their cutest cowgirl attire and decorate your space with hay bales, horses, and horseshoes.

Coed Jack and Jill Shower

Who says a bridal shower has to be ladies only? Some couples want to do every wedding activity together, right down to the bridal shower, and there's nothing wrong with that. Make it a coed affair with a Jack and Jill shower. The more the merrier, right?

[hoperoiselover]

WEEE CHAPTER THREE!!!! This chapter is (currently) the shortest chapter I have written for the Kiddela Catalogue but I still enjoyed writing it :] Chapter four will contain more words CHAPTER THREE PLASTIC PREPARATIONS The daycare was opening tomorrow ,so it was up to Stanley to get everything ready. Stanley is the only one working at the daycare. Actually, he’s the owner of it. He had gotten approval from the Mandela County Court and Teachers Association a few months ago stating that he was finally allowed to open his own daycare. He was very excited about it! Stanley has always liked kids. He had always felt a special bond with them. He wants to achieve his dream of opening his own school some day. But today wasn’t that day, for now Stanley had to settle with his own little daycare business. He was currently setting up a two storied dollhouse. It was very nicely decorated. Its 1920’s Victorian, green floral wallpaper went well with its French furniture. He rearranged the living room with the little furniture pieces. A nice long couch able to fit about three to four dolls on it, a light brown coffee table that had a small fake plant centerpiece, two armchairs, and of course a box T.V. and its stand. Stanley hasn’t used his box T.V. in years. Ever since the alternate invasion, he had unplugged it and used it as a table in the guest bedroom of his house. He’d need to make sure no kids go in there for he had turned his living room and dining room into the daycare. Stanley placed a few miniature pillows and a blanket on the couch and armchairs, along with a bookshelf to complete the dollhouse’s living room's decor. He moved on to the bathroom. It was a small yet cute design for it. He slid in a plastic bathtub that fit perfectly between the three walls. He added a sink and vanity that were both a marble white and gray color with gold tints on the knobs. Stanley honestly thought that it was going to be a shame that the kids might destroy its beautiful design. Then again he should’ve thought of that before purchasing the set. After finishing the bathroom, Stanley headed over to the kitchen and dining room. The room had a beautiful muted blue pattern that looked like eyes. He found the design both calming and creepy. The thought of the walls staring at you was unsettling to him, but the muted blue color eased his negative emotion towards it. He placed the rectangle table and arranged the four dark wood chairs around it, each chair had a little muted blue cushion on it that looked similar to the wall’s design. He added a refrigerator, stove, cabinets, and a shelf finishing the kitchen and dining room. He had two more rooms to finish. Great, he was getting tired and he hadn’t made himself dinner yet. Stanley looked at the top floor. Two bedrooms. One for the children and another for the parents. He added a bassinet and a twin XL sized bed to the kid’s room. He added a purple cloth and pillows to the bed and one pillow to the cradle. Stanley sighed. Some day he wishes to have a family of his own, though he never thought of wanting a partner and honestly, he doesn’t really want one. Just a kid, a kid who he would love and cherish forever..  Though, working as an editor for blogs and websites he could substance himself just fine, but another life? He doubted it. Maybe someday… Stanley continued to decorate the kids’ bedroom. A few miniature toys, a chair, bookshelf, a colorful rug, and a dresser. The kids room was now complete, full of color and life. He looked over at the parents’ room. Its wallpaper was dull and boring. He looked at the furniture that came with it. Simple and dark. He chuckled to himself, how sad. Stanley missed being a kid. Free of responsibilities (sort of), hanging out with friends almost everyday, discovering new interests, and going to parties. He should get back in contact with his old friends… He wonders how they are doing. He finished up the dollhouse, awesome! Now just for the actual dolls to be placed. He took the little baby girl doll. Her hair was a beautiful light brown, her skin a soft dark tone. She was beautiful, young with a full life ahead of her. Stanley wondered how long it would take before a kid chews off her face. He sighed and placed her in the cradle. He picked up the next doll, a teenage boy. His smile was smug and rebellious. He chuckled, Stanley remembered having a rebellious phase when he was a kid, talking back to adults and wanting to do things his way and not the way they were supposed to be done. He was a troublemaker during that time, he felt bad for his parents that had to deal with his troublesome behavior for a while. The teen boy had tan skin and light brown hair, same as the baby girl. He placed the boy in the living room watching T.V. Stanley then grabbed the mother, tall and gorgeous. Her Hair was dark brown and her skin was dark as well just like her daughter’s. He placed her in her room, sitting in the little vanity. Finally he picked up the father. He was around the same height as the mother. He had light brown hair just like both of his kids and tan skin like his son. He looked formal and intelligent. Stanley placed the father sitting at the dining table. There, now he was done. He took a deep breath and stood up. He looked around the living room. He was pleased with his work. There were many stuffed animals, toys of all sorts, crayons with markers and papers, pillows and blankets for comfort purposes and naptime. Stanley looked at the table in the dining room, there was a box. He went over to it and looked inside, rechecking the content that he had placed inside. Noise cancellation headphones, check, cough drops, check, thermometers, check, bandages and a first aid kit, check. Stanley was ready. He wanted to make sure he had everything for any possible outcome. He took a deep breath and looked proudly at everything once more before heading to the kitchen to prepare himself a nice microwaveable cup of ramen. END OF CHAPTER THREE, PLASTIC PREPARATIONS