#camellia flowering season

[indiangardening]

ক্যামেলিয়া গাছের মৃত্যুর কারণ: যে ভুলের করনে আপনার ক্যামেলিয়া গাছ মাড়া যেতে পারে

আমাদের পশ্চিমের দেশগুলিতে ক্যামেলিয়া একটি জনপ্রিয় ফুল হিসাবে পরিচিত। তবে বর্তমানে ভারতবর্ষের বাজারেও এই ফুলের জনপ্রিয়তা দিন দিন বেড়েই চলেছে, ফুলের ঋতুগুলিতে সুন্দর আকৃতি , দীর্ঘস্থায়ী ফুলের জন্য এর চাহিদা বেশি। তাদের জমকালো ফুলের বাইরে, এই গুল্মগুলি লম্বা এবং প্রশস্ত হয়, তাদের চকচকে, গভীর সবুজ পাতার সাথে ছায়া দেয়। বেশিরভাগ দক্ষিণাঞ্চলীয়রা শীতকাল- এবং বসন্ত-প্রস্ফুটিত ক্যামেলিয়াস…

[myxbxsidexlifexfourxseasons]

芹沢公園 東京都町田市 虹と水の広場 日陰の盛りを過ぎたツバキ

富士フィルム X-E1 XF35mmF2R WR

※近隣ファミレスにてランチ：ロイヤルホストのコスモドリア※

[metasattva]

Spring 4 seasons in the neighborhood, Japan

[garethschweitzer]

Camellias on the street

[imagewings]

#camellia #flower #flowerhead #seasonal #pink #nature #naturephotography #flowerphotography #nikon #nikonz5 #nikonaustralia #nikonz105macro (at Epping, New South Wales) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cot6AH6PS4j/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[seiwas]

grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends. 

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 

He continues to stare, unmoving. 

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 

You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 

He furrows his brows, confused. 

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[vintagehomecollection]

Staircase decorations bring a festive atmosphere to the house and convey a warm welcome to guests. A garland of balsam caught up with badges of rose pink camellias and magenta carnations offers a sophisticated interpretation of the traditional Christmas look.

Elegance in Flowers: Classic Arrangements for All Seasons, 1985

[fairy-writes]

I feel my Arcane obsession starting to come back and the prompt "Tell me, my Dear, can a heart still be broken even when it stopped beating?" screamed Viktor at me 🥰 can I request that? Thank you very much!!

TO DIE OF A BROKEN HEART

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?”

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends (2021)

Pairing(s): Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 0.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Angst, Post-Season 2, Established Relationships, Major Character Death

Notes: (I changed the quote a teensy tiny bit, but I like “love” more than “dear”)

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF THE SHOW

(something short because my brain is slowly rotting away)

__________________________________________________________________________

The cemetery was desolate. Your bouquet of flowers was just as sad as the solitary headstones, but you pressed on. Your shoes crunch the gravel underfoot as you make your way toward the back of the graveyard. 

Piltover hadn’t been as noisy as it used to be since the war. In fact, it was drowning in silence.

It shouldn’t have been like this. Viktor should’ve lived a long and prosperous life with you. That was why you agreed to help fund Hextech along with Mel Medarda. To help the people, but more importantly, to help your lover. 

So… Why? Why, why, why?! 

Why had Jinx blasted the Council to smithereens?! 

Why had Viktor been there?! 

Why hadn’t he been resting like you told him to?!

And that didn’t even include what happened to the Hexcore. While you were grateful Jayce had attempted to save Viktor’s life, that sense of gratefulness quickly diminished when Viktor changed.

You get to the gravesite, and the flowers in your hand crinkle in the wrapping around the stems as you stare down at the stones before you. 

Jayce Talis

“Our future is bright.”

Viktor—

A lump unexpectedly grows in your throat, and you barely stop yourself from dropping the bouquet of flowers. So, instead, you sink to your knees and place the blooms just before Viktor’s grave. Of course, there hadn’t been a body left to bury, so part of you had held out hope. But as time went on, your hopeful flame started to diminish to embers. Until those embers went out, and you finally accepted that Viktor might really, truly be gone.

Suddenly, you’re torn from your despair by a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning, you see Mel dressed in her pristine mage robes with a bouquet of camellias clutched tightly in her hands. She offers you a sad sort of smile, and you gesture for her to kneel beside you. 

“I hope it’s alright that Jayce was buried next to Viktor. I didn’t know where else to have him buried with both his parents still alive, and the Talis household doesn’t have a burial plot yet.” You mumbled, and Mel’s smile saddened even more. 

“I’m sure he would’ve appreciated being buried next to Viktor. Someone has to keep him in line in the afterlife.” She says, and you blurt out a watery laugh. 

“Right.” Is all you manage. 

Mel stays for a while, most likely keeping an eye on you. Because out of everyone, you had taken the presumed death of the Hextech founders the hardest. Jayce was something akin to a brother to you. Viktor was… So much more. 

You two had just begun to talk about marriage before all this happened. 

But, eventually, Mel is called back to her airship to head back to Noxus and leaves you alone. However, something in her eyes made you think she might just visit again soon. 

But then you are alone, flowers slowly wilting along with your heart. 

“Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?” You whisper to the silence, and a tear streaks your cheek when you don’t get an answer because, of course, you wouldn’t. 

So you closed your eyes…

And let darkness swallow you whole.

[munsonburn3r]

Oh, Camellia, won't you take me away? - A Hanahaki!Eddie Munson story (sneak peek!)

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson had been a constant during your short time in hawkins, indiana, which made it that much harder when you had to leave. four years and a clinical trial later, you'd thought you'd conquered an otherwise fatal disease. what you weren't expecting, though, was the man that nearly killed you to walk back into your life, threatening to undo all of the progress you'd made towards healing - both physically and emotionally.

cw: hanahaki!au, angst, descriptions of light gore, childhood trauma, sexual themes and content

a/n: here is a snippet from the hanahaki eddie fic that has been bouncing around in my brain over the past week. feedback welcomed!

Water flowed out across the floor in a surge that mimicked crashing ocean waves. You cursed as you scrambled to right the plastic Procona and liquid sloshed awkwardly, lapping at your fingertips. It was a surprising amount from a relatively small bucket. 

“Everything alright out there?” called a gruff voice from the back office. 

You sighed. “Just fine, Bill! Minor spill. Nothing major.”

A muffled grumble could be heard from the owner’s space behind you, but you paid it no mind. It only took a few steps for you to grab the mop and start cleaning up the water all over the workspace floor, and to your relief, it really wasn’t as much as it seemed. 

The nearly four years you’d spent at Indiana Floral Company had seemed to fly by in a blink of an eye. You weren’t expecting an on the spot interview when you’d first stopped into the shop, but the owner Bill had been impressed at your willingness to learn and your natural eye for design and hired you immediately. Probationary, of course. 

So under Bill’s tutelage, your floral design skills blossomed. The basic knowledge of plants you’d brought from years of spending time gardening with your Grandma grew. You went from simply identifying lilies to knowing the difference between Asiatic and Oriental and their best growing seasons. You could identify roses based on subtle color differences and had learned how to take the most tightly closed bud and blow it open with a little humidity, a plastic bag, and very careful preening. And though you didn’t like to brag, you could match corsage ribbon to prom dresses better than anyone in town. 

As time wore on, Bill had shared that years of design had wrecked his body and that it was time to begin passing the torch. Since Indiana Floral Company was one of the top floral design studios in town, the responsibility embedded in passing said torch was sobering. But after a year and a half of earning your stripes, you landed a head designer role and began training to take over the small family business.

Humming a nondescript tune, you refilled the earlier bucket with water and flower food before chopping the ends off of a bunch of de-thorned roses with the guillotine-like stem cutter. A clunk thrummed out when you dropped the two dozen stems into the water. Each blossom peered at you with a center like a curled eye — delicate sandy cream — perfect for the event you were designing later this weekend. 

A ring of the bells on the front door broke your focus. You wiped your hands on the rag shoved haphazardly into your apron and turned at the sudden sound of Bill’s voice. 

“The 1:30 initial wedding consult must be early. You mind taking this one, kid?” His head peeked around the office door. “I started the file �� it’s on the cash wrap.” He looked tired; the man should have retired two years ago. 

With a slight smile, you nodded. “Got it.”

It was impossible to see who had entered due to the amount of plants, gift items, and displays you’d designed around the small space (“customers shop with their eyes first, kid; you gotta draw them in before you let them see the price tag” Bill had said). But as soon as you rounded the front display, your stomach dropped clear out of your body and onto the floor. 

Maybe it was the habitual need to weave around the labyrinth of flora and gifts that had lowered your defenses. Or perhaps it was the fact that this was a typical boring Wednesday afternoon in April. Hell, it could have been the questionable sandwich you had for lunch that you found at the back of the minifridge. 

But one thing was clear: you hadn’t expected to see Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham hand in hand looking around at the array of merchandise you’d set out in preparation for Mother’s Day. 

“Hi!” A saccharine voice matched the sickeningly sweet smile on the strawberry blonde in front of you. “We’re here for a wedding consultation at 1:30. Sorry we’re a bit early — we didn’t want to be late!”

Time stood still. Or maybe that was just you — frozen as you stared the couple down with a look of surprise plastered across your features. You didn’t think you could move (or even speak, for that matter).

However, for the first time in almost four years, you felt your chest tighten and a sharp prickling sensation snake up your windpipe. You licked your dry lips (hadn’t you just put on chapstick?) and attempted to swallow with no success. Instead, your throat constricted, and there it was: an involuntary, yet ever so familiar metallic cough.

image credit: pinterest dividers: @saradika-graphics

tagging some moots that might be interested: @chickpeadumpsterfire @voyeurmunson @joshlmbrt @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths @anamelessfool

[makethatelevenrings]

Regency AU - Jason Todd

@sio-ina-bottle pls don't look at my discord profile and see how long I played Vivaldi and the Bridgerton OST on repeat when writing this I beg of you.

This is part of the 5k followers celebration. There are still spots open! Get your requests in now!

Warnings: period-typical misogyny, alludes to abusive relationships and cheating, allusions to Jason's PTSD/past (war)

The Wayne Ball was one of the highlights of the season, your mother reminded you. It was a full day event that would require you to be at your best for the entire day. You would need to smile until your jaw ached, dance until your shoes pinched your feet, and talk about meaningless things until your brain felt like it might atrophy. But it was necessary to secure a husband.

Ever since your father’s gambling debt increased and your family coffers decreased, the pressure on you grew. Your mother had expressed her regret of it “being like this” but she didn’t seem to care if you liked the man you were supposed to marry. She shoved you at any willing man of the Ton, even if rumors swirled around his late night visits to a brothel or his heavy-handedness with his late wife.

This was your fate, it seemed.

The small crystalline glass of lemonade that you gripped in your hand seemed to be your lifeline. You were unable to dance if you were parched and so you took your time savoring the taste of its tartness against your tongue. Somewhere in the crowd of people, your mother discussed with the other worried mothers of hopeless girls, most likely lamenting over how pathetic your marriage prospects seemed.

Baron Lawrence Crock eyed you from across the room and you blanched, raising your glass to your lips in an attempt to evade his glance. Your dance card was only half-full and you knew he had expressed interest in you before. Yet the stories of his cruelty made you wary. A disinterested man you could marry, but a cruel one?

You slipped past the crush of bodies that lingered on the edges of the dance floor and made your way towards the door. One glance behind you confirmed your suspicions. He was making his way to you. Your mother wasn’t paying attention and even if she was, she would encourage the match. He has a sizable fortune, she would say. With money like that, you could look away when he came home late from a brothel. Just bear him one or two children and you would be fine.

Your heart thudded painfully against your chest as you escaped through the large ornate doors of the ballroom and into the velvet carpeted hall. Gathering your skirts in your hand, you hurried down the hall in any direction but here. Wayne Manor was huge and you hardly knew how to get to the ballroom. Where on earth were you heading?

“Are you alright, miss?” a gentle voice asked you as you skittered around the corner and came face to face with a hall of doors. You blanched but relaxed at the sight of a kindly old butler. He glanced over your shoulder and then smiled at you, a kind and assuring smile rather than the patronizing ones you were so used to at home.

“There’s no one following you, miss.” You startled at his words and shook your head.

“I was just looking for fresh air,” you lied. He gestured to the other end of the hall and you let out a nervous laugh. The butler didn’t appear to judge you. Rather, he seemed to understand you.

“The stars are beautiful from the balcony,” he said gently. “And I am quite proud of the flowers that line the stone. Wisteria, gardenia, and camellia.”

You brightened and took his proffered arm. “I love gardening. I’m currently growing some lilacs, but my gardener, Mrs. Haywood, tells me that I should expand. She lets me help with the vegetables and I find that fresh tomatoes are so much better than anything purchased in the market, don’t you think?”

He chuckled as the two of you stepped onto the stone balcony. “I find myself inclined to agree, miss.” The butler tilted his head towards the shadows and cleared his throat. “Master Jason, I hope you aren’t out here to avoid the ball I so painstakingly helped put together.”

A huff of laughter came from the shadows and a man followed it. The thin light of the moon coupled with the candles that burned in their sconces on the wall gave you a good look at him. He had to be one of the Wayne boys, you noted, with those teal eyes and dark hair, but you had never seen him before.

“Oh.” Your voice failed you for a moment as you took in the sheer size of him. Many of the men of the Ton boasted about their athletic accomplishments, but this man truly looked as though he engaged in some physical pursuit on the regular. A shock of white hair stood out at the front of his dark, messy locks and you had the sudden urge to run your fingers over it.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying. “I didn’t realize someone else was out here. I can go back to th-”

“That won’t be necessary,” the man, Jason, the butler had called him, replied. “Alfred, would you be able to stay for a few moments to ensure Miss…” You offered him his name and he nodded, repeating it in that rough voice of his. “To ensure her propriety.”

A flush of indignation crept up your neck and you averted your gaze from the gentleman. Stepping closer to the fenced off edge, you craned your head up to study the stars. They truly were beautiful like Alfred said.

“Andromeda,” you breathed to yourself. Her stars glittered brightly in the night sky. The myths of antiquity had always fascinated you and you loved connecting the stars to their mythological counterparts.

“The wife of Perseus,” Lord Jason said. He settled in on the other end of the balcony and leaned against the stone. You turned your face away from his unyielding gaze and kept your focus on the sky.

“Chained to the rock because of her mother’s vanity and cruelty,” you continued. “Intended to be a sacrifice for the monster Cetus.”

“Do you believe her to be helpless?”

You considered his question and then turned to finally look at him. There was no judgment in his gaze. No cruelty or spite or anger. There was only curiosity, something you so rarely saw in the eyes of those you met at these balls.

“Yes, but no. She was helpless in that moment, but I think we all have those moments. Those times when someone else must come to the rescue, if not to save us from an outside force, but maybe from ourselves. The theme runs through a lot of stories. Heracles, Tristan and Isolde, Saint George in Spenser’s work. I think she isn’t helpless, no. I think she’s just human.”

He inhaled sharply against the night air and you were afraid that you had said the wrong thing. This wasn’t a proper topic of discussion for a young woman. Perhaps you should go back inside. Your mother was probably looking for you.

You turned to head back inside when his voice stopped you. “And do you believe that he truly fell in love with her with just one look?”

The moon bathed your face as you faced him and he noted the way it made your eyes shine just a little brighter. He had been in the ballroom when you were pressed in the corner, avoiding everyone’s gaze. No matter how hard he tried, he had been unable to tear his gaze from you. When he saw you escape from the ballroom, he took that as his chance to go outside and take a deep breath, maybe smoke a cigarette.

He never accounted for you.

“Is it foolish for me to say that I do believe he did?”

Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from yours and frankly, he didn’t want to. There was something about you that made him want to find the nearest monster that threatened you and slay it. After he came back from war, his family noted the darkness in his eyes and the sleepless nights. He played pretend at these stupid balls with no intention of forcing someone into a loveless marriage. How could he be a good husband when he couldn’t seem to wipe the blood off his hands?

He looked at them now and saw nothing but scarred skin.

“You like to read?” he asked carefully. You seemed more settled now and you made your way back to the stone railing. When your eyes met the sky once more, he took in the soft slope of your neck and the curve of your jaw. His hands curled into fists in an attempt to stop him from reaching out and touching the small tendril of hair that curled around your ear.

“I enjoy it.” You said it as if you had to balance every word. “Do you?”

“The library here at the manor is brilliant,” came his breathless reply. “Books from all around the world. You could read all day for the rest of your life and never finish them all.”

“That sounds wonderful. My parents find little care for books,” you admitted. “My governess tried her best, but I’m sure I’ve missed out on many stories.”

Let me tell them to you, he wanted to say. Rather, he merely replied with, “I could show it to you. The library, that is.”

Alfred cleared his throat, a tinge of regret in the old man’s face, and he gestured towards the open door. “Your mother will be getting worried now, miss.”

“Right. Yes. Sorry.” Jason didn’t understand why you were apologizing. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t hear the drums of war crashing in a neverending echo against his ears. He didn’t see the blood on his hands. He only saw and heard you. And then you were gone.

Two days later, you sat in the drawing room and slid the needle of your embroidery in and out of the smooth fabric. The elegant knot of yarn bloomed upon the canvas, but you found yourself unable to find joy in the small success.

“A caller for Miss,” one of the footmen announced. You set your stitching down and stood next to your mother, fully anticipating Baron Crock to step through the door and into your life.

But it was someone else entirely. Lord Jason Todd-Wayne made his formal introduction with your mother before stepping off to the side of the drawing room with you, still in full view of your chaperone.

“I brought you this,” he said softly, extending a well-worn book out to you from his seat on the opposite seat. You gingerly took it and opened the cover to find that it was an anthology of mythologies from around the world. A surprised gasp escaped you and you looked up in surprise at the man before you. His teal eyes glinted with mischief and something else. Closing the cover, you set the book next to you and busied yourself with pouring him some tea.

Perhaps this was your future. A handsome man discussing books with you as you poured him tea. There was no anger in his fists or eyes. There was no fear in your heart.

If this was your fate, you reckoned, then so be it.

[autumnmobile12]

Finishing Touches on Malicious Compliance

Fanart for the Endeavor Agency Annual Christmas Party because I just felt like it.

It's kinda weird drawing them with the height differences in mind and showing how tall Touya is compared to the women in his family. We know Fuyumi is 5'3" and Touya clocks it in at 5'9". Rei doesn't have an official height listed, but we can see in the family shot she is a little shorter than Fuyumi. So I put her mother Grandma Himura's height about the same at 5' exactly.

Also, I don't know if there was an attempt to contain Touya's fluffy hair, but if there was, I think the ladies gave up pretty quick.

Part 2

...

With Touya wearing a woman's kimono, this seems like a good time to bring up gender identity. In the Ambush Sim AU, he does identify as male, but he is not opposed to wearing feminine clothing for comfort/practicality purposes, or in this case, pure spite. So I suppose that's a characteristic that skews more demi-masculine(?) orientation. Except I think if anybody tries to pin down exactly how Touya identifies, all they're gonna get is a shrug because he is long past the point of caring about labels. When it comes to gender identity and which public restroom to use, Touya is very much in Camp 'Just Wash Your Hands When You're Done And We'll Get Along Fine.' So while wearing a woman's kimono may have started out as malicious compliance against his father, it may also have served as some self-realization for him. Here, he's a teenager who missed out on three years of mental/physical/emotional development and figuring himself out. And he has a very encouraging and understanding grandmother.

In any case, I hope I'm using the demi-masculine term correctly. I know someone in real life who identifies as demi-feminine, and she said this was accurate, so I'm trusting her opinion.

...

You would not believe the amount of research I put into drawing their kimono accurately according to situation/season. Because kimono do have seasonal patterns/colors and are varied by formality, age, and sometimes marital status of the wearer.

So breaking down the kimono in the fanart to the best of my understanding:

All three of them are wearing homoungi, a semi-formal to formal kimono that is typically worn by guests to formal parties, such as a wedding, graduation ceremony, dinner party, etc. Since the Endeavor Agency Christmas party is a company event, I figured it would be considered semi-formal. Homoungi are generally characterized by having a pattern along the hem, sleeves, and over the left shoulder seam.

The kimono colors:

With winter colors, shades of red are popular, but otherwise, more neutral colors work just as well. Since Grandma Himura is an elderly widow, I thought dark green would be a good choice since it's not flashy and more what you'd expect a dignified older woman to wear. (That's a cultural thing, not my personal opinion!) The pattern on hers is bamboo stalks and leaves. Fuyumi's kimono is white with bare branches and camellia blossoms. Touya's is a wintry blue (actually, that's same color as the rindou flowers) and has a roughly drawn yukiwa motif. Yukiwa is a Japanese pattern made to resemble snowflakes or flowers.

Obi:

Again, neutral colors/patterns. Or at least ones that complement the kimono. Fuyumi's scarlet one matches the flowers. Touya's is black lacquer (urushi) with abstract silver embroidery. Grandma Himura's obi is white for snow with abstract flowers in silver embroidery.

Kanzashi:

Again, winter-themed hair pieces, so Touya's is a carnation arrangement hana-kanzanshi and Fuyumi has a camellia. Touya's also wearing a wisteria kanzashi, which I don't think are considered winter flowers, but I like the look of them, so they were included. If you look closely, they also have little bells. Grandma Himura's is mostly hidden because of how she's standing, but she's wearing a tama-kanzashi and a kushi.

Deepest apologies for any inaccuracies above. I am not a kimono expert and I did the best I could with what I had to work with.

...

I realized something rather sad while drawing this. In The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation, it's mentioned Grandma Himura died a few weeks after Touya's eighteenth birthday, so he can't be any older than sixteen or seventeen in this fanart. Since I don't think he made any public appearances so soon after returning home, he's more likely seventeen years old here.

Seventeen years old, it's Christmas, and he has a January birthday. So Grandma Himura dies in maybe two months after this, and I swear I did not intentionally set it up to be that tragic!

[adventuringblind]

White Clover

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Childhood crushes are normal. Max has been racing for a while now, he's a world champion, it's only natural they would look up to him. It wasn't supposed to go this far...

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, authors limited knowledge of flower language, sickness, Oscar and Reader literally deteriorating, blood,

Notes: One of my favorite tropes! I hope le requester likes it! Hoping to get some loscar comfort out soon!

Side Note: Reader drives for Aston Martin in place of Lance

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really doesn't make sense in her head. Every time she tries to rationalize it, the answers come up even more ridiculous then the last.

It's always been her and Oscar, Chasing their dream together. It was meant to be, it had to be destiny with the way the two of them fit together so naturally.

Then Max Verstappen happened. A supposed childhood crush. Then a hero they looked up to. Then a rival in their sport. It was supposed to end with that.

Her and Oscar and their weird fascination with Max Verstappen.

Then there was a shift. Suddenly Max was acknowledging their existence. He was talking to them, giving them pointers, including them in the usual playful Max like banter. Their mutually discussed respect for Max turned into a full blown crush.

Not a small crush either. The kind that has them both fumbling around him.

Lando is no help either. He picks up on it immediately. Teases them about it relentlessly.

They are sitting in Oscar's driver room when it happens. The first of many coughing fits as Lando is trying to cheer them up. Because Max is with Kelly; It would never work. They don't even know if he would be into it.

She starts it. Hacking up a storm and Lando and Oscar trying to get her to take water. Oscar starts up a minute later.

The cough up white clovers. Small ones, but a handful.

Lando looks at them sympathetically. All three to in shock to say anything.

"There is no way this is real, right?"

~~~~~~

It is, in fact, very real. The tiny white clovers continue for about a month. Frequently enough that when their helmets come off, they tumble onto the ground.

Being around max makes it better. The ache in their chests lessens enough to breath deeply again.

Then it switched on them. Gone were the little white clovers. Now there were bigger pink camellias. A longing for Max that they didn't know they had.

They lay in bed for most of the winter break. The toll this stupid disease is having doesn't feel fair.

Both of them stare at their breakfast. Neither wanting to eat knowing it'll be a waste.

"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer..." She trails. Both of them know what's going to happen sooner or later, but losing the memories they do have feels worse.

Oscar sighs, having weighed the options on numerous occasions. "Lets give it until Australia. My mum knows a doctor who'd be willing to do it privately and make sure it doesn't get out."

"Will she make us food while we recover too?"

"I highly doubt she'll let us move until we're cleared."

~~~~~~

Pre-season testing - for lack of a better phrase - fucking sucks. They've moved onto red roses. The thorny kind that catches in their throats. She didn't realize it until she was coughing in the car again and it burned more then normal.

She hustles her car into the pits and stumbles her way through the garage until she can't keep herself up anymore.

The stem that comes up with the full rose is speckled with thorns that catch on things as she pulls it out.

She's so lost in trying to get it out, that she didn't notice who had come in. A hand rubs her back and moves any loose hairs away from her face.

The drops of blood mixed with bile causes the panic to finally set in. Her body gives out, but her teammate is there to get her sitting upright.

"Do I want to know who it is?"

"Just need Osc, please."

Fernando leaves to track down Oscar and ends up coming back with both McLaren drivers in tow. The Aussie doesn't look like he's fairing any better then herself. Paler than usual and still coughing.

"If Max doesn't get his act together then I'm going to run him off at turn one." Lando, their self designated caretaker, sets about getting her cleaned up since Oscar look seconds away from passing out.

"He doesn't have to, not like Max would want us anyway-"

"Oscar Jack Piastri, I swear if I have to listen to anymore of your self-loathing I will tell Max myself." Since when did Lando become a mom? "Plus, he does. He won't shut-up about you two. Daniel is losing his shit and begging him to just end it with Kelly if he adores you two so much!"

Fernando ends up driving them back to the hotel.

~~~~~

Being in Australia with Oscar has always been something to look forward to. This time feel more like dread and guilt.

Telling their teams had been the easiest part. The off week after Australia will be for recovery. It almost made her cry with how supporting they were.

They just have to get through the weekend now... and hopefully avoid Max in the process. The harder part of this whole thing. Specifically when he won't leave them alone.

It's during the drivers parade that everything goes downhill. They are standing in Max's vicinity, Landing becoming a wall between them and Fernando keeping him occupied. It's helping ease the weight in their chests and burning in their throats.

Max, inevitably, makes his way over to them and starts up conversation. Only it doesn't make the pain better this time. The second he starts up conversation she feels the rose blooming in her lungs.

"How have you two been?" Max is awkwardly stammering his way through pleasantries with Oscar while she chokes back her coughs. She throws Lando a pleading look, trying to get him to understand what's happening.

"Doing pretty well, you?" She can hear the strain in Oscar's voice, but he's holding it together. Unlike her, apparently.

She stays silent the rest of the parade. Unable to tune into the rest of the conversation.

Her physio is there waiting for her when she gets back to the garage. The amount of blood she loses is concerning. The bundle of roses makes her want to scream.

Something isn't right. Her body is screaming at her not to move. The flowers refusing to stop.

She doesn't know how Oscar manages to finish the race. He looks miserable when he meets her at the car. Lando has an arm slung around his shoulders to keep him upright.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Max first?"

"What would we even say, Lan? That he's the reason we're dying?" Oscar slides into the back with her. Nicole sits in the drivers seat and Chris on the passenger side. They get sympathetic looks from both of them.

"I mean he broke up with Kelly-"

"Lando, we appreciate what you're doing but it's to late for this. We are knocking on deaths door and we'll still have each other. We'll be okay." She tries her best to comfort the worries Brit.

"Promise."

"Pinky."

The car ride is painfully silent. Not like either of them can talk anyway. It's just her and Oscar wrapped around each other as much as they can be.

They enter the hospital with fingers intertwined. They sit together in a private room waiting for the pre-op to start. A hard decision but one they know had to be made.

"Is it bad, that I don't want to forget?" She peers up at Oscar through watery eyes.

He sighs, the heavy kind followed by another cough. "No, I don't want to either."

She feels like falling asleep in Oscar's arms. Pretending that this isn't what's happening. That she's not growing flower bushes in her body. That she'll remember Max when she wakes up in a few hours.

"At least we get the next week off."

"Nando said he's going to drop some kind of care package off later." She laughs, remembering how he'd fussed over them with homemade remedies. "And Mark, I thought he was going to lose it when you handed him a rose."

"The look on his face was priceless!"

They can do this. They have each other and that's all they need.

Then the door bursts open.

"Max?"

~~~~~~

It's not like he thought he would ever find himself in this situation. Smitten with two of the younger drivers and driving himself insane by not confronting his own feelings.

He tried his best to just be friendly and leave it at that. He invited them to do things with the other drivers, struck up conversation, did his best to give them tips for their driving when he had the opportunity.

But the two of them have Max wrapped around their fingers. Both are smart and intuitive. They think he's funny. Max also thinks they are funny and compliment each other well.

This cannot be a normal kind of attraction... Right? No, it's not. It's the whole reason he had to split with Kelly because he knew this went much deeper then he wanted to admit.

The last minute driver change took him off guard. Then he saw Oscar on the grid talking to Lance. The Aussie looking miserable and on the brink of falling over.

He jogs up to Lando, concern lacing his facial expression. "What's going on? Why the last minute driver change?"

"She's sick." Lando doesn't look at him, anxiously fiddling with his fingers while getting ready. "She's been sick so they had a contingency just in case."

"And Oscar?"

"... Also sick."

Obviously Lando isn't telling the whole truth. If the lack of details is anything to go by. "Are you going to tell me with what?"

And Lando is a terrible liar. Max has known him long enough to read his expressions. "The flu?" Max raises his eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay but if i tell you then you can't say anything because it's really bad."

Max gives him a confirming nod. Not like he wants to spread gossip about the two.

"It's hanahaki, but they should be better soon. Surgery is after the race today. She's our due to blood loss and Oscar is nearing that point but determined to race."

Max gapes. What is his reaction supposed to be? "Do they not love each other?"

Lando rolls his eyes. "Max - there is a third that they are both in love with."

"Who is it because I swear-" Maybe anger wasn't the right emotion to have given Lando's annoyed huff.

"It's you! You're just so oblivious that you didn't notice. You were with Kelly so long and they didn't want to make things weird for you that they didn't say anything."

Max gets two steps towards Oscar before he's being shoved into the car. Forced to race despite being able to fix the problems of two people. He’ll just find them afterward.

He, unfortunately, does not escape the people wanting to speak to him. By the time he ends up at the McLaren garage, Lando looks miserable sitting on a counter and swinging his legs. “You just missed them.”

Max deflates to the floor. It looks obnoxiously dramatic and leaves Lando to huff at the scene. “Relax, you can catch them at the hospital if you’re quick enough.”

Lando ends up driving because he’s in no state to do it himself. The anxiety he’d been fighting off is hitting full force now. Enough to make his entire body shake.

He dives out of the car. Disregarding the fact that the sleeves of his race suit are hanging off his waist and nearly collides with the ground because of it.

Oscar’s parents are in the waiting room. They look at him with the most aghast looks he has ever seen. “What are you doing here?” The death glare Nicole is giving him strikes fear into his heart.

“I need to know where they are, please.”

“Now you want to see them?”

Chris puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “They are getting prepped for surgery at the moment. You might be too late.” He gives Max a sympathetic smile.

“Please-“ desperation is evident in his voice. “-please, I love them back. I have to try!”

He gets the room number and continues his sprint to the pair. The weight of possibilities comes crashing down on him, that they might not remember him if he is too late.

Times he went to them when he didn’t want to be alone.

When he sought them out at the bars and clubs when Lando subsequently ditched them.

Dragging them around Monaco when they were there for the Grand Prix.

Max should’ve made himself think about it. How he spent hours with them when he didn’t have to.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the door when he gets there. He slams the door open wide and almost sobs in relief when he sees them still waiting.

While her face is buried in Oscars shoulder, the Aussie is staring right at him. “Max?”

He takes a tentative step forward but stops when they both start violently coughing. “Sorry - I’ll stay over here.”

“What ever are you doing here?” The rasp is her voice makes him flinch. It’s scratchy, like her throat has been torn to pieces.

“I just - Lando told me what’s been going owns I know it’s not fair that I’ve made you suffer for so long.” He wants to get closer, hold them, provide them comfort. “It took me too long to get my shit together but, I love you both.”

Oscar tentatively tries to get up, the female not able to move without falling over and the Aussie in no position to carry her. Max lunges forward to catch him when he stumbles and down to the floor they go.

Max attempts to get him back up, but isn’t fast enough when the female slides down to join them. They end up falling asleep against him, breathing evenly.

They stir when the doctor announces himself, but don’t move from their spots. Max assumes that they are exhausted from coughing up literal flowers.

“This was not what I expected to find.” There is an amused tone in the doctor’s voice. “I take it you were the one?”

“Yeah, that would be me.”

“Well, we’ll keep them for observation and make sure any lingering thorns don’t do anymore damage. Would you be alright saying near them?”

Max nods hastily, eager to do whatever is necessary.

The hardest part is actually getting them to let go of him. The second he retracts contact is the moment they start panicking and coughing again. It’s a stressful few hours until it dies down again.

Nicole and Chris look ecstatic to see the three of them together. They’ve informed her parents about the change in plans and are also happy to know they’ve had a good outcome.

The residual flower petals come in waves, but they are dying down in intensity. The painkillers they are on make them wake up with dopey smiles on their faces.

“Hey Max?” She whispers. The three of them laying in the hospital bed together despite it being cramped and having a second one.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks…” The drowsiness in her voice evident.

“For what?”

Oscar is somewhere between asleep and maybe consciouses. “For noticing us.”

[metasattva]

Spring 4 seasons in the neighborhood, Japan

[art-by-jas]

"Goodnight, Doll."

Summary: With the holidays approaching, Alex and you must hire more workers. Finn teases Sonny about his barista crush. Sonny takes you out to dinner.

After being told to take it easy and rest and relax, Sonny finally took the advice, he put in for a few days vacation, which Benson immediately approved. The sergeant explained that while they had started a big case, the Chicago Intelligence Unit, Detectives Lindsay and Halstead, were there to help. Sonny felt a little guilty about the timing, given the high stakes of the case, but Benson assured him they would be fine and that she understood his need to prioritize self-care. With his vacation approved, Sonny left the station feeling relief and excitement. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken real time off, having been too focused on work to prioritize relaxation.

As he entered the hallway of his apartment, he paused to glance back at your door. Stepping inside, he dropped his bag by the door and hurried to the kitchen. His fridge was woefully bare, a consequence of his long work hours and habit of eating most meals at the station's break room.

Surveying the sparse contents - some takeout containers, a couple of eggs, and a six-pack of beer - he let out a resigned sigh. If he wanted to unwind properly this week, a grocery run was clearly in order. With a renewed sense of determination, Sonny grabbed his keys and wallet and headed back out, the setting sun casting warm hues across the city skyline.

The familiar sounds of shopping carts and the hum of refrigerators greet Sonny as he steps into the store. He grabs a cart and begins browsing the aisles, gathering essentials like milk, bread, and vegetables. The store was surprisingly peaceful, with few other shoppers around. Sonny relishes the calm atmosphere, a welcome respite from the usual hustle and bustle of the city.

As he passed through the produce section, a display of fresh flowers caught his eye. On impulse, Sonny selects a bunch of mixed daisies, the camellias in particular drawing his attention. Placing the flowers in his cart, he feels a flicker of nervous anticipation. He’s not sure why he had chosen to buy them, but the sight of the blooms had made him think of you, and he found himself wanting to bring you a small gift.

After finishing his shopping and paying, Sonny exits the store feeling lighter and more at ease as he heads home.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

As the holiday season approached, your shop became increasingly busy, prompting you to make a difficult but necessary decision - you needed to hire additional staff to manage the growing workload.

After interviewing four candidates with Alex, you both carefully assessed their attributes. Jeziah, a 16-year-old boy, was lively but lacked maturity. Amy had a vibrant personality was a maybe. John seemed responsible, while Erin was efficient yet somewhat cold. Kiki had a positive attitude, but her tendency to gossip concerned you.

As you reviewed the interview notes in your office, you felt overwhelmed by the daunting task of selecting the right candidates to hire.

Alex glances at you, clearly sensing your hesitation. "What are you thinking, boss? Did any of them strike you as a good fit?"

You take a deep breath, biting your lip as you consider the question. "I'm not sure," you admitted.

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. It's not an easy decision."

The work schedule has Martha arriving for the next shift at 3 PM, followed shortly by Sean. Several other employees would clock in after them. As your shift neared its end, you began wrapping up loose ends, tidying the counter area, and restocking supplies for the incoming crew.

Hearing the bell over the door jingle, you glance up, your heart racing -It’s Sonny wearing casual clothes, jeans, and a plain grey t-shirt. His hair was a little messy as if he'd just woken up, and he had a hint of stubble on his jaw. Seeing him walk in with a man beside him, they talked, sharing a laugh as they strolled further into the coffee shop.

Sonny greets you with a warm smile, approaching the counter, the man beside him trailing a step or two behind before he glances at the menu board, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Hey," Sonny says, giving you a casual nod. "Sorry to drop in unannounced like this. We just needed a little caffeine boost." His voice was deeper than usual, with a hint of gravel in it, and you find yourself drawn to the sound of it. Blinking, you regain your composure, replying with a friendly smile of your own.

"No need to apologize," you reply, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "Happy to have you. What can I get for you guys?"

"Hmm.. Why not be festival, I’ll try one of the pumpkin pie lattes, what about you?” Sonny glances at his friend to answer you.

“An Americano, please,” The man requests.

You nod and jot down their order on your pad. "Coming right up." Turning to the espresso machine, you began to prepare their drinks, the familiar motions helping to calm your nerves a bit. As you continue to prepare their drinks, Sonny glances back at his friend, who is standing behind him.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” You ask with a smile.

"Right," Sonny grins, "this is Finn. One of the detectives I work with"

Finn steps forward, extending his hand towards you with a charismatic smile. "Pleasure to meet you," he says.

His eyes are bright and friendly, and his grip is firm as you shake his hand. "Likewise," you respond.

The coffee machine finishes brewing and you pour the drinks into cups. Adding the finishing touches, you slid the drinks across the counter to Sonny and Finn.

"Here you go, guys," you said, offering them a smile. "One Americano and one pumpkin pie latte."

Sonny picks up his coffee, savoring the aroma, before taking a sip. Finn did the same, a satisfied sigh escaping him.

"This is damn good coffee," Finn says, nodding in appreciation.

Sonny shoots him a look, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Told you this place was worth the trip." he winks at you. Finn chuckles and takes another sip while eyeing the pastries on display.

"I'm gonna check out the food," he states, wandering over to the display case. Sonny watches him for a moment before turning back to you, a shy smile on his face.

"Sorry about him," he says, chuckling softly. "He's always hungry. Especially after a long night."He brings the coffee cup back to his lips, taking another sip before setting it down on the counter between you. There is a slight pause before he speaks again, his gaze lingers on yours.

"So, uh, how've you been?" he asks, his voice soft and casual. "It's been a while since we've seen each other."

"I've been good," you answer, a small smile on your face. "Things have been pretty busy here lately. And you?"

Sonny shrugs, his broad shoulders moving underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "Oh, you know, the same old. Work, work, and more work. But today's my first day off in a while, so Finn and I thought we'd come by and grab some coffee before he has to go in later." He looks around the café, his eyes taking in the cozy atmosphere and the other customers scattered around. 

Just then, Finn appears at his side, holding a large cookie in his hand, 

"Man, I’m going to go broke, everything looks so good," Finn says.

You chuckle, “Why thank you, Finn, I appreciate it. You know what first one is free,”

“No, I can’t, c’mon, how much is it?”

“Seriously, a friend of Sonny is a friend of mine,” You smile at the other detective.

“Okay, if you are sure, Thanks,” Fin states with a grin.

You glance at the clock, noting the time. Sonny looks up from the cookie, his eyes locking on yours. He seems to hesitate for a moment before speaking.

"You know, since it's my day off, I was wondering if you'd be interested in hanging out? Maybe getting lunch or something?"

A flutter of excitement stirs in your stomach at his invitation. You hadn't expected him to ask, but you found yourself nodding almost immediately.

"Sure, I'd love to," you respond, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Sonny's face lit up with a smile, relief clearly etched on his features. He glances at Finn, who is now eyeing a slice of cake with great interest.

"Great," he says, his voice a bit brighter now. "We can figure out the details later. I'll text you."

You nod, feeling your heart rate pick up a notch at the thought of spending more time with Sonny. "Sounds good," you reply.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

As the two detectives walk outside, Finn shoots Sonny a knowing look before nudging Sonny lightly.

"You dog," Finn teases, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Sonny rolls his eyes but does not suppress a smirk. "Shut up," he says, giving Finn a playful smack on the arm.

"You couldn't resist, could you?" Finn persists, elbowing Sonny in the side. "Had to come back and see your little barista crush."

Sonny's face flushes a little, but he tries to play it cool. "She's not a crush," he protests, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We're just friends."

Finn raises an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. "Just friends, huh? Is that why you were stuttering and blushing like a schoolboy when you asked her to hang out?"

"I was not stuttering," Sonny retorts, his face turning even redder. "And I wasn't blushing. It's hot out here, that's all."

"Yeah, hot in November, sure…” Finn laughs but relents, giving Sonny's shoulder a gentle punch. "Alright, alright. I'll lay off. But seriously, I'm happy for you, man. You deserve some happiness in your life."

Sonny's expression softens, and he shoots Finn a grateful smile. "Thanks, man," he says, the tension in his shoulders relaxing a bit. "I just hope I don't mess it up."

Finn claps him on the back. "You won't. You're a good guy, Carisi. And she seems to be a great girl. Just be yourself, and things will work out."

`. ݁ ⋆.˚ 𓆉°❀⋆  ݁°𓇼⋆ ˎˊ˖ .ೃ࿔*.˚˖𓍢ִ໋`. ݁ ⋆.˚ 𓆉°❀⋆  ݁°𓇼⋆ ˎˊ˖ .ೃ࿔*.˚˖𓍢ִ໋

When Sonny arrives home, he heads for the shower to freshen up. As the warm water cascades over him, he can't help but replay the scene in the café in his mind. The way you had smiled at him, the sound of your voice. He tried to remind himself to play it cool, to not come on too strong. You were just a friend, after all. But the memory of the way your eyes had lit up when he asked you to hang out made his heart race. 

As he got out of the shower and dried off, he mentally ran through different ideas for places to go for lunch. He wanted it to be somewhere casual, somewhere you would feel comfortable. He just hoped he wouldn't mess it up.

Gimme a min, a cup carrier decided to give out on me as I handed it to a customer. Covered in coffee -_- Let me take a shower first and I’ll be right over :)

Sonny saw your message and couldn't help but chuckle, he quickly typed out a reply.

Ouch, that sounds like a mess. Take your time though, no rush. I'll wait.

He sits down on the edge of his bed, trying to distract himself with his phone. But his mind keeps wandering back to you, wondering what you'd wear, how you'd do your hair. He shakes his head, scolding himself for being so damn smitten. To pass the time, he changes into a fresh pair of jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. He runs his fingers through his still-damp hair a few times, trying to style it in a casual yet presentable way.

Sonny practically jumps at the sound of the knock ten minutes later, his heart pounding in his chest as he quickly gets up from the bed and goes to the door. He takes a deep breath to steady his nerves before opening the door, and his breath hitches as he sees you standing there, looking fresh and beautiful in a simple t-shirt and jeans.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a little huskier than he intended. He smiles, trying to act casual even though his body is buzzing with anticipation. "Ready to go?"

You smile back, "Yeah, I'm starving," you reply, your stomach growling as if to emphasize your point.

Sonny chuckles, "Well, let's get you fed, then," he says, gesturing for you to exit first.

He shuts the door behind him and leads the way down the hall, his mind racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. As you two walk side by side, he’s acutely aware of how close you are, how he can practically feel the heat radiating off your body.

He struggles to find something to talk about, "So, uh..." he begins, racking his brain for a decent conversation starter. "How was your morning? Was the shift okay before the spill incident?" He cringes inwardly at how lame the question sounded.

You laugh softly, apparently unfazed by his awkwardness. "Yeah, the rest of the morning was pretty uneventful, thankfully. But I did give the customer a free drink to make up for it."

Sonny nods, relieved that you hadn't seemed to pick up on his nervousness. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to keep them from fidgeting.

"That's good," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "So where do you want to go for lunch? I'm cool with pretty much anything."

You think for a moment before answering, "Hmm, I've been craving a burger all morning. Do you like burgers?"

A grin tugs at the corners of Sonny's lips at your suggestion. "Burgers sound perfect," he agrees. "There's a place a couple blocks from here that has really great burgers if you're cool with walking a bit."

You nod, falling into step beside him as you walk together towards the burger joint. The sun was warm on your skin, and a gentle breeze occasionally rustled through your hair.

Sonny is quiet for a moment, as if lost in thought. After a few minutes of walking, he suddenly speaks up.

"You know, I have to say," he begins, his voice soft, "You look nice today. I mean, you always look nice, but today especially."

A blush creeps up your cheeks at the compliment, and you smile shyly. "Thanks," you reply, glancing over at him. "You look pretty good yourself."

Sonny's heart skips a beat at your words, and he smiles back at you, feeling a flutter of excitement in his stomach. As you continue walking, the conversation flows smoothly between the two of you. Sonny finds himself relaxing more and more, enjoying the easy banter and the feeling of your presence beside him. The whole world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, the noise and chaos of the city fading into the background.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Finally, you arrive at the burger joint, and the smell of frying meat and melted cheese drifts out through the open doors. Sonny holds the door open for you and follows you inside. The place was bustling with activity, but there was a relaxed, carefree ambiance to the place. Both of you are greeted by the hostess and are shown to a small booth tucked away in the corner. As you sit down across from each other, Sonny notices the way the sunlight streaming through the window makes your eyes sparkle.

You take a look at the menu and begin to scan the options, while Sonny tries to tear his gaze away from your face. He picks up his own menu, pretending to look at the choices, but he can't seem to focus on anything except the way you were biting your lip as you read.

"What are you planning on getting?" He asks, trying to distract himself from his growing attraction towards you.

"Hmm," You tap your chin with your finger. "I'm thinking of getting the bacon cheeseburger, extra cheese, and extra bacon, with some onion rings on the side."

Sonny chuckles, amused by your decadent choice. "Extra cheese AND extra bacon? You're a woman after my own heart," he teases.

You shoot him a smile. "Hey, you only live once, right? Might as well go big or go home".

Sonny raises an eyebrow, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Oh, I'm all for going big. You haven't seen me at an all-you-can-eat buffet."

You laugh, "Is that a challenge?"

Sonny leans back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "Baby, I'll challenge you to anything," he says, his voice low and silky. He couldn't help but notice the way your eyes darkened at his words. A flush crept up your cheeks, and you try to hide it by pretending to study your menu again. Sonny watches you closely, enjoying your reaction to his flirtation. He was feeling emboldened now, his earlier nerves almost forgotten.

The waitress comes over and takes your orders, and Sonny asks for a burger and fries as you request your order. As the waitress walks away, Sonny leans back in his seat, a smug smile on his face. "So, tell me something interesting about yourself."

You laugh, rolling your eyes good-naturedly at his smugness. "Oh, you want the good old 'tell me about yourself' question, huh?"

You think for a moment before replying, "Well, I'm not that interesting, honestly. I grew up in a small town, moved here for college, and never left. I like to read and write and draw in my free time, and love watching true crime documentaries."

Sonny listens intently, genuinely intrigued by your responses. "A small-town girl, huh? I can totally see that. You have that wholesome vibe," he teases, grinning mischievously.

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Let me guess, you're secretly a huge fan of 'Unsolved Mysteries', aren't you?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Guilty as charged," you admit. "I have been known to binge-watch entire seasons in one sitting."

Sonny's eyes sparkle with appreciation, his smile widening. "See? I knew I liked you for a reason," he says emphatically. "I'm always looking for someone to discuss good old Robert Stack." You laugh, enjoying his enthusiasm. 

The waitress comes back with their orders and sets down two large and delicious-looking burgers in front of you. Sonny's stomach growls loudly at the sight of the food, and you can’t help but chuckle at his unabashed hunger.

He immediately digs into his burger, taking a large bite and letting out a satisfied moan. "Oh, my God," he says around a mouthful of food, eyes practically rolling back in his head. "This is heaven. Pure, delicious, greasy heaven."

You laugh incredulously, shaking your head at his shameless lack of manners. "Seriously? I've never seen anyone get so excited over a burger before."

You delicately take a bite of your burger, closing your eyes in pleasure as the flavors hit your tongue. "Okay, I have to admit, this is pretty damn good."

Sonny swallows his mouthful, a contented grin stretches across his face. "See? I told you," he says, winking at you. He takes another bite, trying to speak through a mouthful of food. "So, tell me more about your love for drawing. Are you one of those people who can draw a perfect photorealistic sketch of an apple or something?"

You snort, waving away the notion. "I'm no Da Vinci, that's for sure. I mainly doodle in my sketchbook when I'm bored or feeling inspired."

You shrug, taking another bite of your burger. "It's just a hobby, really. Not something I'd ever consider doing professionally. But it's relaxing."

Sonny nods, taking a moment to finish off his burger before responding. "Hobbies are important," he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "It's good to have something to help you unwind and relax. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So what do you draw? Landscapes, people, animals... what's your go-to subject?"

You think for a moment, contemplating your preferences. "I'm not sure I have a go-to subject. I like drawing people, but I also enjoy drawing nature, buildings, animals, anything with texture and shadows." You take a thoughtful bite of onion ring, chewing slowly as you continue. "I just doodle whatever strikes my mood at the moment, honestly. Sometimes it's a person, other times it's a landscape or a still life."

Sonny listens intently, feeling an unexpected pang of admiration for your creative pursuits. "Wow, that sounds really impressive," he says, his voice a touch softer than before. "I've always been jealous of people who can draw or paint. I can barely manage stick figures." He chuckles self-deprecatingly, running his hand through his hair. "But what I lack in artistic talent, I make up for in other areas, I suppose."

You arch an eyebrow, teasing him. "Oh yeah? And what areas might those be?" You bit back a smile, enjoying the banter between the two of you.

A cocky smile spreads across his face. "Oh, I have many talents, doll," Sonny drawls. 

You try to hide your flush by taking a long sip of soda, but Sonny's smug smile tells you he'd noticed the effect his words had on you. He reached across the table and grabbed an onion ring from your plate, popping it in his mouth, and winks.

You feign outrage, pretending to swat at his hand. "Hey, hey, hey! Get your own onion rings, buddy."

Sonny grins unrepentantly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry, sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "I just couldn't help myself. These onion rings are amazing."

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile at his cheeky behavior. "You're lucky you're cute," you say, trying to sound stern.

Sonny's grin widens at your compliment. "You think I'm cute, eh? Careful, doll, you might make me blush."

Sonny chuckles, a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Oh, so you think I'm cute, huh?" he teases, leaning back in his seat and resting his arms behind his head.

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face. "Don't let it go to your head," you warn. 

Sonny feigns innocence, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Let it go to my head? Never," he replies, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.

You laugh, shaking your head again. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you say, but there was no heat behind the words. You were starting to find his confidence flirting a bit endearing.

Sonny rests his chin on his hand and gives you a crooked smile. "But you like it," he responds, his eyes sparkling. "Admit it."

You opened your mouth to protest, but then closed it again, realizing that you really did like it. His confidence and cheeky charm were strangely attractive, even if you didn't want to admit it to yourself.

"Maybe," you finally concede, a small smile playing on your lips.

Sonny's grins again, his blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I knew it," he states, leaning back in his seat again. "You can't resist the Carisi charm."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "Oh, yes, I'm completely helpless in the face of your charms," you voice dryly, knowing full well the effect he was having on you.

"What about you, tell me something interesting about you," you ask.

"Well, I grew up and still am very much Catholic, played basketball and little league in high school. I'm O-negative, so if you ever need a transfusion, I'm your guy," Sonny continues telling random facts about his life.

As Sonny tells you more about his upbringing and his hobbies, you can’t help but feel more and more intrigued by him. There was something genuine and endearing about his willingness to share these random details about himself.

"O-negative, huh?" you say, smiling. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I worked in homicide, and I was a patrol officer before becoming a detective in Staten Island's SVU." Sonny continues.

He reached for another of your onion rings and pops it into his mouth, winking at you. You swatted at his hand again, but this time with less conviction. "Hey, those are mine!" you protested, but you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips. The waitress comes over, leaving the check at the edge of the table. Sonny quickly glances at the amount before pulling out his wallet.

"Here, let me get this," he says, pulling out a credit card.

You are a little surprised by his quick move. "Oh, you don't have to do that," you protest. "We can split the bill."

Sonny shakes his head, waving off your protest. "Nah, I got this," he declares, giving you a look that brooked no argument. The waitress comes back and takes the card, leaving the two of you alone at the table again. Sonny leans back in his seat, studying you with a thoughtful expression on his face.

You fidget a bit under his gaze, feeling a little self-conscious. "What?" you ask, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.

Sonny smiles, his gaze softening. "Nothing. I just like looking at you, that's all," he replies, his voice a low rumble.

Your heart skips a beat, and you try to hide the effect his words have on you by averting your gaze. "You're laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?" you say.

Sonny laughs, unperturbed by your attempt to downplay his compliments. "Maybe a little," he admits, shamelessly. "But I only say what I mean, doll."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "You're impossible, you know that?" you express, but there is no real heat behind the words.

Sonny grins, leaning forward in his seat. "What can I say? You bring out the impossible in me."

His eyes flicker up to the waitress returning with his credit card before looking back at you. "Ready to go?" he asks, rising to his feet and holding out a hand.

You accept his hand, feeling a shiver run down your spine as your skin makes contact with his.

"Yeah, let's go," you voice, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

Sonny squeezes your hand before releasing it, instead placing a hand on the small of your back as he guides you out of the restaurant. As you step out into the crisp night air, a brief shiver runs through you, the cool temperature a stark contrast to the warmth of the restaurant. Sonny notices you shiver and, without a word, slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The material was warm and smelled faintly of his cologne, and you instinctively snuggled into the comforting scent.

"Can't have you freezing on me," he comments, his voice a low rumble.

"Thanks," you mutter, pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders. Sonny slips his hands into his pockets and starts walking, falling into step beside you. 

As you stroll down the busy city street, a comfortable silence settles between you. Every so often, you stole a side glance at him, admiring his profile in the soft glow of the streetlights. He catches you looking more than once, and each time he flashes a cocky grin, knowing full well the effect he was having on you. 

The night air still has a chill, but with his jacket around your shoulders and the warmth of his presence beside you, you feel surprisingly warm. You try to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The apartment building comes into view, its familiar brick facade a welcome sight. Sonny glances at you as you approach, then slows his pace as you reach the steps leading up to the doors.

The elevator dings and the doors open, pulling you both back to reality. You step out onto the floor of your apartment doors opposite each other.

Sonny turns to face you, his expression unreadable. "Tonight was... fun," he smiles, his voice a little rougher than usual.

"Yeah, it was," you agree, "Thanks for dinner."

Sonny steps closer, closing the gap between you. Before you had time to react, he cupped your face with both hands, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. Your heart leaps into your throat as Sonny steps towards you, his hands cupping your face gently. His warm fingers brush against your skin, sending little tingles down your spine.

As you meet his intense gaze, your breath hitches in your throat. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and you can smell the faint scent of his cologne.

"Sonny..." you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

The loud voices of the kids down the hall break the moment between you and Sonny. You both jump apart, momentarily startled. You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sting of disappointment at the interruption. You look up at Sonny, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked equally annoyed, his face set in a scowl as he watched the rowdy kids run by. As the kids disappear around the corner, Sonny turns back to you, a small frown still on his face. "Sorry about that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kids, am I right? I should probably let you get some sleep," he speaks, his voice a little rough around the edges. He glances over his shoulder at his own apartment door, then back at you. 

You nod, feeling the same pang of disappointment at the thought of the evening coming to an end. "Yeah, I probably should," you reply, trying to sound casual. Yet, you both stand there for a moment, neither one of you quite ready to say goodnight just yet. The silence stretches between you, filled with an unspoken tension. You could feel the heat of Sonny's gaze on you, and you felt inexplicably drawn to him, like there was more to say, more to discover.

Finally, Sonny speaks up, "Goodnight, Doll."

"Night, Sonny." You give him a small smile before you turn to enter your apartment, Sonny does the same to his.

As you close the door behind you, you lean against it and sigh. Despite the interruption from the rowdy kids, the evening had been one of the best you'd had in a long time. Something about Sonny fascinated you and made your heart beat a little faster. You wander over to your couch and collapse onto it, replaying the evening in your mind, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Masterlist

[queensharotto]

Brittle Doughie’s Cookie Run x Reader Masterlist (Part 10: Holiday Season 2024)

A masterlist of @brittle-doughie’s Cookie Run stories organized by month.

Genre Emojis

😞 is for angst, 🎃 is for Halloween, 🎄 is for Christmas, 🍪 is for Cannibalism, 💗 is for Yandere, 💝 is for Valentine’s, 👻 is for Horror, 🎂 is for Birthday, 💚 is for Yandere!White Lily Cookie, 😈 is for Ancient Beast AU (Inspired by Cuppajj’s Beast Ancient AU), 🧑‍🧒 for the Lone Giant AU and 💔 is for the Viture of Compassion AU.

The Indents are related to the featured cookies. If there are numerous cookies (Over 10 Cookies Featured), I’ll make a note on that as well. Additionally, I’ll categorize various cookies if they’re associated with a specific hobby, location, food etc.

Also, the ⭐️ will indicate a story featuring one of Brittle’s OCs while ✨ will indicate someone’s interpretation of Y/N Cookie.

Additionally, many people proved art to showcase to Brittle, which will be indicated by this: 🖌️. I will also mention who provided the art.

November 2024 🌾

• “Princess, Princess, Princess!”

Featuring: Princess Cookie

• “You Can’t Prevent Her Loss”

Featuring: Timekeeper Cookie

• “Anticipated Arrival”

Featuring: Golden Cheese Cookie

• “Cookie and a Beast”

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “Friendly Hotel Maid”

Featuring: Frilled Jellyfish Cookie

• “Apologies, Apologies”

Featuring: Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, and Smoked Cheese Cookie

• “Touch”

Featuring: The Spice Swarm Leaders

• “Pie for a Dragon”

Featuring: The Five Dragons and Everything Pie Cookie

• “Enter Rich Cheese Cookie”

Featuring: The Cookies of the Golden Cheese Kingdom

• “Go Smell the Flowers” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs and Golden Osmanthus Cookie

• “Negotiating”

Featuring: Customer Cookie and Rich Merchant Cookie

• “Fluff Longan”

Featuring: Longan Dragon Cookie

• “Blueberry Blues”

Featuring: Parfaedia Teachers

• “The Camellia and the Osmanthus”

Featuring: Camellia Cookie and Golden Osmanthus Cookie

• “No Dream for You!”

Featuring: Dreamweaver Cookie and Peppernut Cookie

• “The 8th Dream - Y/N Cookie’s Nightmares”

Note: What is this?

• “Rescue Mission”

Featuring: Golden Osmanthus Cookie, Cobalt Cookie and Camellia Cookie

• “Beast Stars” 💔

Featuring: The Five Beasts

December 2024 🎄

• “The Deal with Ancients V2”

Featuring: Characters featured in both Episodes 17 and 18 and Beast Yeast Episodes 1 and 2

• “Love for a Pearl”

Featuring: White Pearl Cookie

• “Slight Detour”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “PALM the Killer Robot”

Featuring: Pudding a la Mode Cookie

• “Lily's Sense Going Crazy!”

Featuring: Choco Drizzle Cookie, PALM Cookie and White Lily Cookie

• “The Beasts’ Aid”

Featuring: Team Drizzle and the Beast Cookies

• “Jester’s Influence”

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie

• “Becoming the Beast Within”

Featuring: Team Drizzle

• “Rejoice” 🧑‍🧒

Featuring: St. Pastry Order

• “Needy Little PALM”

Featuring: Pudding a la Mode Cookie

• “Destructive Influence”

Featuring: Team Drizzle and Burning Spice Cookie

• “Endless Winter” 👻⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “Don’t Provoke Her or You Will”

Featuring: Pudding a la Mode Cookie

• “Trouble with Triples”

Featuring: Triple Cone Trio and Team Drizzle

• “The Good Stuff” ⭐️

Featuring: Golden Osmanthus Cookie, Caravan Leader Cookie, Dumpling Cookie, and Salsa Cookie

• “Long Lost Love”

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “Crowned Cupcake’s Family” ⭐️

Featuring: Crowned Cupcake Cookie

• “Incorrect Quotes Cookie Jar: Soul Jam Edition”

Featuring: The Ancient Cookies and the Beast Cookies

• “Dead Ends”

Featuring: Team Drizzle and the Triple Cone Champions

• “Incense Shared” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “Ultimate Present My Crumbs!”

Featuring: Shadow Milk Cookie

• “Who Can You Trust?”

Featuring: Random Cookies

• “For the Sake of the Silver Tree”

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “Cannibal Run” 🍪

Featuring: Almond Cookie

• “The Joy of Baking” 👻⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “Taxes to Pay” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “Bride Contest”

Featuring: Jungleberry Cookie, Princess Cookie and Choco Werehound Brute

• “We Failed You” 💔

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “Gift List”

Featuring: Coffee Candy Cookie

• “Time for Bed” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “And they were roommates”

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie and Shadow Milk Cookie

• “Fluffy Clouds”

Featuring: Eternal Sugar Cookie

• “Dungeon Clearout” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “The Green Lunatic”

Featuring: Green Tea Mousse Cookie

• “Covered in Strawberry Jam” 💗

Featuring: Green Tea Mousse Cookie

• “The Little Robot and the Assassin” 💗

Featuring: Pudding a la Mode and Choco Drizzle Cookie

• “Kisses”

Featuring: The Ancient Heroes and the Five Beasts

• “Healed”

Featuring: Licorice Cookie

• “Marriage to the Watcher”

Featuring: Caramel Arrow Cookie

• “What If? Futility”

Featuring: Choco Drizzle Cookie and Pudding a La Mode Cookie

• “What If?: Deceit or Defeat?”

Featuring: Shadow Milk Cookie

• “Corrupted” 💔

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “History” 💔

Featuring: Éclair Cookie

• “Strange Memories” ⭐️

Featuring: Brittle’s OCs

• “Affectionate Sky God”

Featuring: Stormbringer Cookie

• “The Goddess of Apathy” 💗

Featuring: Mystic Flour Cookie

• “All Aboard!”

Featuring: Tower of Adventures Y/N Cookie

Divider Source l Masterlist Checkpoint l Previous Masterlist

[whysoblue2]

okay but now that we know what scents represent the other bishops, what does THAREN smell like to Leshy? 👀

I thought I would answer normally to this question... but I decided to be dramatic and write a proper segment for it. I hope you like it! This is ideally the night between Chapter 14: Two Wild Camelias and Chapter 15: Interlude. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tharen had already drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep. Leshy could hear the sound of his breathing soft and even. He snuggled closer to rest his head against Tharen’s warm, fluffy chest rising and falling regularly and a gentle smile crossed his lips as his lover began to purr accompanying his senses like a lullaby. The night carried a mosaic of scents that filled Leshy's nostrils: the tangy sharpness of pumpkin juice turned sour, the untouched pomegranate with its faint sweetness, the spice of distant alcohol bottles, the mixing aromas of sweat, intimacy, and the wild camellias blanketing their surroundings. Together, they gifted him with a vivid image to play in his mind. But as sleep began to claim him, the worm inhaled deeply against the golden fur, searching through the myriad fragrances to find the one he sought most, Tharen’s own. When he finally caught it, his smile softened, and he surrendered to slumber. Perhaps it was a dream, or maybe fragments of memories pieced together by his wandering mind. In his vision, Leshy stood on grass sprinkled with tiny flowers and damp earth. The air was still, broken only by the symphony of cicadas serenading the forest. Darkwood was alive with the explosion of berry bushes, their boughs heavy with ripe fruit that filled the air with their sweet, fresh scent. It was summer. The God of Chaos grinned with delight as he crouched to pluck a handful of raspberries, tossing them lazily into his sharp-toothed maw and the juices flooded his mouth, giving his face a bright red smile. As he wandered deeper into Darkwood, wild torrents flanked his path, carrying with them aromas from all over his lands. He paused by a stream, watching its gentle flow and catching a glimpse of his reflection in the water. He was a young god full of life, adorned with magnificent antlers carpeted with wildflowers and watching through deep, green eyes glowing with vitality. Suddenly that old dusty black robe he wore felt oppressive and dull, entirely unsuited to the season. With a chuckle, he tossed it away, letting his fur and leaves be his only garment as he continued his carefree stroll. His tail swayed in time with the cheerful tune he began to hum. When he reached a sunlit clearing, he was slapped in the face by the overwhelming scent of wildflowers! A sea of vibrant blooms greeted him as they reached skyward, basking in the warmth filtering through the dense canopy above. The sight filled all five of his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat at the beauty he created. The young God of Chaos didn’t hesitate and dove into the field, lying among the blossoms with a broad grin as swarms of bees buzzed around, revelling in the abundance of nectar and pollen. He could already smell the honey they’d create, its sweetness lingering on his tongue. He decided to spend there all day, savouring the sun’s journey across the sky until nightfall brought the promise of wild celebration. Fireflies glowed through the cool evening, lanterns swayed from his followers' hands, and the air stung his nostrils with spiced rum and fresh fruit. That night Leshy laughed, danced, sang, played his flute, mated freely, and drank ambrosia until even his divine body gave in to exhaustion. This was Darkwood’s summer, after all, the wildest, most joyous time in his domain. Through it all, Leshy smiled in his sleep, cradled in Tharen’s embrace. To him, Tharen was his Darkwood Summer.

-------------- I hope this is a good answer to your question. Thank you again for the ask 💙 PS: to those who read Chapter 23... here is something to soothe the pain.