#candle street bakery

[dumpster-fire-sapphic-failgirl]

my own take on the s’mores croissant from the Candle Street Bakery, in the most trash American way possible:

1) pillsbury crescent roll

2) Jet marshmallow fluff

3) Cadbury chocolate squares (yes i know it’s the American version and not as good but still better than Hersheys)

4) cinnamon

baked crescent roll, cut in half, spread on fluff. Broiled for 2-3 min. tuck chocolate squares under fluff. let sit for a minute or two. sprinkle with cinnamon. die happy.

[allthingsscented]

first burn of this one! i love it 💛

smells like banana pudding 😋

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★

a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦

Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.

The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.

It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.

For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.

He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.

You always find a way to defy his expectations.

The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.

You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.

"What are you doing awake?"

You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.

"Happy birthday, my love."

It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.

Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.

("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.

"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.

"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)

He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.

"Now put the cake down, please."

"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.

"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.

You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.

"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.

"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."

"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.

"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."

His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.

"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.

"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.

Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.

"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[pucksandpower]

Blow Out the Candles

Charles Leclerc x birthday girl!Reader

Summary: the many ways that you and Charles celebrate your birthday throughout the years

Warnings: vague depictions of childbirth and labor

It’s my birthday today so this is my gift to you 🫶

You let out a long sigh as you lean back against the cold concrete wall of the holding cell. This is not exactly how you pictured spending your birthday weekend.

The heavy steel door clangs shut behind you, the sound echoing in the cramped space. Looking around, you take in the sparse furnishings — a bench along one wall, a grimy leaking sink in the corner, and a single window so dirty that it barely lets in any light.

Charming.

You hear voices and footsteps approaching. Keys jangle and the door swings open again. A police officer steps aside and another person stumbles into the cell.

He looks to be about your age or a little older, with messy brown hair and a bewildered expression. The officer mumbles something about “sorting this out shortly” before slamming the door closed once more.

The new arrival blinks in confusion before noticing you sitting on the bench. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says with an accent you can’t quite place. French, maybe? He runs a hand through his tousled hair sheepishly.

You give a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. I take it you’re joining me for the complimentary holding cell experience?”

He chuckles, leaning back against the wall across from you. “Yeah, something like that. I’m Charles.”

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, cellmate.”

Charles grins, and you can’t help but notice how his nose crinkles up when he smiles. It’s kind of adorable. “The pleasure is mine,” he says gallantly, giving a theatrical little bow that makes you laugh.

“So Charles, what terrible crime did you commit to land yourself in this lovely establishment?” You ask with mock seriousness.

He smirks. “Would you believe me if I said jaywalking?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirms. “I was trying to get to the bakery before they sold out of croissants. I may have darted across the street … outside of the crosswalk.” He shakes his head ruefully. “The things I do for pastries.”

You have to laugh. “A real menace to society, you are.”

He grins again. “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re in for armed robbery or something.”

“Me? No way,” you scoff. “I was taking the metro downtown and I may have … accidentally used an expired metro card. The transit cops dragged me off at the next stop. I tried to explain it was an honest mistake but they weren’t having it.”

“Ah, a hardened criminal!” Charles exclaims in mock horror, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Clearly. Us lawbreakers need to stick together,” you joke.

You both erupt into laughter, the sound ringing brightly in the dreary holding cell.

As your laughter subsides, Charles regards you curiously. “So do you make a habit of riding the metro with expired cards, Y/N?”

You make a face. “No, I just grabbed the wrong card in my wallet this morning. I was rushing to get downtown and didn’t even think to check.”

“Why were you in such a hurry?”

You hesitate. The real reason seems kind of silly now that you’re stuck in a jail cell. “It’s my birthday today,” you explain with a self-conscious shrug. “I was meeting some friends for brunch downtown to celebrate. Guess I’m going to be late for that.”

“It’s your birthday?” Charles’ eyes widen. “Well, happy birthday!”

You crack a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry you got stuck in here for your birthday,” he says sympathetically. “That really sucks.”

You give another shrug. “Honestly, this will make for a pretty funny story later. Not exactly how I wanted to spend today, but what can you do?”

Charles nods thoughtfully. A moment later his face lights up. “I know what we can do! Since we’re stuck in this lovely cell, we should have our own little birthday celebration. I can sing for you!”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised but charmed by the offer. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s your birthday, of course I do!” He insists.

Clearing his throat theatrically, he launches into an enthusiastic, if not exactly tuneful, rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

His voice echoes off the concrete walls as he gesticulates dramatically, getting really into it by the second verse. You can’t help giggling as he puts his whole heart into hitting the high notes.

By the time he finishes with a flourish, you’re both laughing again.

“That was amazing, thank you,” you tell him, still chuckling.

He gives an exaggerated bow. “My pleasure, birthday girl. Sorry I don’t have a cake to go with the song.”

You grin. “That’s okay. 10 out of 10 performance.”

Charles smiles, looking adorably pleased with himself.

You regard him thoughtfully. “You know, you really didn’t have to do that. Singing for a total stranger in a holding cell.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to. You seemed like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Well, it worked. I definitely feel better.” You study him for a moment. “You’re pretty strange, Charles.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs.

You shake your head amusedly. You have to admit, you’re really enjoying his company. For someone you just met under bizarre circumstances, he’s remarkably easy to talk to.

Charles checks his watch. “I hope they let us out of here soon. Those croissants are calling my name.”

“And I’ve got mimosas waiting for me,” you add.

As if on cue, footsteps sound outside. You both look up expectantly as keys rattle in the lock.

The door swings open and the officer from before steps in. “Alright you two, come with me. We got it all sorted out, you’re free to go.”

You share a relieved look with Charles as you both follow the officer out. After a quick stop to collect your belongings, you step outside into the sunshine.

Charles turns to you with a smile. “Well, it was very nice to meet you, Y/N. Happy birthday again!”

“Thanks, Charles.” You smile warmly at your strange but lovely cellmate. “This turned out to be a pretty memorable birthday after all.”

He looks pleased. “I’m glad I could help make it special. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

With a little wave he heads off down the street, presumably in search of those croissants. You watch him go, struck by an impulse.

“Charles, wait up!” You call out, jogging to catch up with him.

He turns, looking at you curiously.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for making a crappy situation fun,” you tell him sincerely. “And, if you want, you’re welcome to come join me and my friends for brunch.”

His eyes light up in surprise. “Really?”

You nod. “It’s the least I can do after you serenaded me in jail,” you joke. “Plus, I’m sure the restaurant will have croissants.”

Charles smiles broadly. “Well in that case, I would love to.”

“Great!” You beam, linking your arm through his. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

You sink back into the plush leather seat, gazing out the jet’s window at the twinkling stars dotting the endless expanse of sky. This is definitely a step up from last year’s jail cell birthday celebration.

“Champagne, ma’am?”

You smile up at the flight attendant as she offers you a crystal flute. “Yes please!”

Charles grins at you from across the cabin. “And please keep it coming, my girlfriend deserves to be spoiled on her birthday.”

You still get butterflies every time he calls you his girlfriend. This past year with Charles has been amazing. After that fateful day, he easily slotted himself into your life. What started as an impromptu brunch turned into real dates, which turned into a real relationship. You’ve never clicked with someone so quickly or felt so comfortable so soon.

Now here you are, celebrating your birthday at 11,000 meters aboard a private jet chartered from one of Ferrari’s sponsors. You had balked at the extravagance at first, but Charles insisted. “It’s your special day, we have to do something incredible!”

You take a sip of crisp champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose. “So where exactly are we headed?”

Charles has kept your destination a surprise. “You’ll see soon, birthday girl,” he says with a wink.

You pretend to pout. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

He just laughs. “Trust me, it’s going to be an amazing trip.”

You don’t doubt it. Charles has a knack for making every day feel special and fun. Even just being cooped up in this plane with him feels like an adventure.

As the flight continues, you enjoy a decadent five course dinner complete with even more champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Charles keeps you laughing with silly stories and jokes. By the time you finish eating you have to stifle a yawn behind your hand.

“Someone’s getting sleepy,” Charles teases.

“It’s been a long exciting day!” You say through another yawn.

Charles grins and hits the call button. A flight attendant appears instantly. “Yes sir?”

“I think it’s time to get the birthday girl to bed,” Charles says.

The attendant nods and pulls back a partition, revealing a plush bedroom suite.

Your eyes widen in delighted surprise. “Wha … we can sleep in an actual bed on the plane?”

“Only the best for you,” Charles says, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You happily snuggle under the covers in the sumptuous bed, sighing contentedly. “Okay, this is an amazing birthday present.”

Charles chuckles, sliding in beside you and pulling you close. “The fun is only beginning, mon cœur.”

Within minutes you’re sound asleep curled up in his arms.

Sometime later you stir slowly awake, momentarily confused. The bedroom is dark and Charles is shaking your shoulder gently.

“Wake up, chérie. It’s almost midnight!” He says excitedly.

You rub your eyes and peer blearily at the clock. 11:58 pm. “Why, what happens at midnight?”

“Your birthday starts again!”

You look at him blankly, still not fully awake.

He grins. “We just crossed into a new time zone. Which means ...” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I get to be the first to wish you happy birthday again!”

As it clicks you start laughing. Only Charles would come up with something so adorable. You watch the clock count down the last seconds to midnight as he bounces giddily on the bed.

“Happy birthday!” Charles exclaims right on cue, tackling you in a hug.

You hug him back, still laughing. “You’re crazy, but thank you.”

He beams down at you. “I have so much planned, it’s going to take more than one time zone to celebrate properly.”

Over the next few hours, you dip in and out of sleep as Charles wakes you at each new midnight. Every time he sings and wishes you happy birthday again with infectious enthusiasm. By the fifth round you’re both delirious and silly from lack of sleep, belting out drunk duets of “Happy Birthday” and collapsing into giggles.

Finally he lets you sleep through until morning. When you emerge from the bedroom, blinking in the bright daylight, you gasp. Out the window is an ocean of clouds and in the distance, a tiny island just coming into view.

You turn to Charles with wide eyes. “Are we … is that ...”

He grins and wraps his arms around you. “Welcome to St. Barts! I wanted your birthday to be paradise.”

“Every day with you is paradise.” You kiss him soundly. “Thank you, this is the most magical birthday I could’ve imagined.”

Charles trails his fingers over your cheek. “You deserve magic every single day. I’m just doing my part to make sure you get it.”

***

You stir awake to soft kisses trailing down your neck. Opening your eyes, you find Charles gazing down at you, his brown hair endearingly rumpled.

“Happy birthday, mon ange,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum contentedly, running your fingers through his messy locks. “Mmm, now this is a nice way to wake up.”

Charles gives you his signature crinkly-nosed grin. “I have so much planned for your special day.”

Your heart flutters happily. After two amazing years with Charles, the connection between the two of you feels more intense than ever. You can’t wait to celebrate.

But his smile turns apologetic. “Well, so much planned for after the car launch.”

You nod in understanding. Charles has commitments. And today the new Scuderia Ferrari car is being unveiled in a highly anticipated event.

Charles kisses your pouting lip. “I’m so sorry, ma belle. I wish I could get out of it but-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” you assure him, silencing his worries with a kiss. “I know how important the launch is for the team. I’ll just miss you today.”

“I’ll miss you too. But I promise, as soon as it’s over I’m all yours.”

You spend a blissful morning lazing in bed, laughing over crepes Charles attempts to make for your birthday breakfast. Flour ends up more on him than in the pan, but you happily eat the lumpy results.

Too soon it’s time for Charles to leave for the launch. At the door he pulls you into his arms. “I love you. This evening will be perfect, I swear.”

You smile up at him. “Love you too. Go show off that new car.”

After one more lingering kiss he’s off. You distract yourself by meeting local friends for birthday lunch. But your mind keeps drifting to Charles. You hope the event is going well for him.

By mid afternoon you’re back in Charles’ Maranello apartment, curled up on the couch watching silly movies. You’ve just bitten into a slice of birthday cake when your phone rings.

It’s Charles FaceTiming you, his handsome face filling the screen. “Hi, mon amour!”

You grin at your adorable fiancé. “Hey you! How’s the launch going?”

“It’s good!” His eyes drop to your plate. “Are you eating cake without me?” He gasps in mock outrage.

You giggle. “Only a tiny cheat slice. Don’t worry, there’s plenty left for when you’re home.”

Voices sound faintly behind Charles and he glances over his shoulder. “Ah, the program is starting again soon. I just wanted to see your beautiful face.”

You blow him a kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, baby.”

“I love you!” He says before the call ends.

Snuggling back into the couch, you focus on the movie again. But a notification keeps pinging on your phone. You glance over to see texts flooding in from Charles.

Can you watch the livestream?

The link is all over social media

It’s starting again soon 😘

You go on Instagram and click the link curiously. The livestream shows an auditorium packed with press, Ferrari team members, fans, and VIPs. Cameras flash as Charles takes the stage along with his teammate and team principal. They talk about the new car but you mostly just stare lovingly at Charles’ dimples on the big screen.

After the speeches, they unveil the sleek new car. Your heart swells with pride for Charles. But you can’t wait for all the events and obligations to be over. You miss him.

The hosts invite Charles to say a few words. He steps up to the microphone, smiling. “Thank you all for being here today. I’m so excited to get behind the wheel of this beautiful SF-26 ...”

He continues talking passionately about the team and the season ahead. But then his eyes flick to the camera broadcasting the feed. “Oh, I also have a very special announcement.”

You sit up, intrigued. Charles winks at the camera. “As some of you may know, today is my wonderful girlfriend Y/N’s birthday.”

Your eyes widen. You have no idea what he’s doing but it makes your heart flutter.

“So to celebrate this amazing woman, I thought we could all join together to wish her a very happy birthday.”

Charles starts singing “Happy Birthday,” looking straight at the camera with so much love. The crowd joins in, the whole auditorium singing to you. You stare in overwhelmed wonder as Charles blows you a kiss.

When the song ends, the audience claps wildly. Charles grins. “I hope you enjoyed your serenade, mon cœur. I can’t wait to celebrate you properly tonight. Happy birthday, I love you!”

The livestream switches off and you sit staring at your phone in shock. Trust Charles to orchestrate something so thoughtful and adorable. Only he could turn a huge unrelated event into a birthday present.

A few hours later, the front door finally bursts open. Charles rushes in and sweeps you into his arms.

“Surprise!” He laughs, spinning you in a circle.

You hug him tightly. “Charles, that was the sweetest thing ever!”

He beams. “I wanted you to feel special today even though I couldn’t be with you. Did you like it?”

“Like it? I loved it!” You punctuate each word with a smacking kiss.

Charles looks immensely pleased. “Good, because the celebrations are just beginning. Now, I believe I was promised cake?”

You spend the evening feeding each other cake and laughing over champagne. Charles serenades you again, because one impromptu singalong just wasn’t enough for him.

As you sway together, slow dancing in the kitchen, you whisper, “Best birthday ever.”

Charles smiles and pulls you closer. “We’ll make every birthday together your best one yet. I love you, Y/N. So much.”

Your heart swells with joy. No matter where life takes you both, with Charles every birthday is celebrated to the fullest.

***

A salty ocean breeze ruffles your hair as you gaze out over the glittering turquoise water. The sun is sinking low, painting the sky in dazzling pinks and oranges.

You sigh contentedly, snuggling back against Charles’ chest. His arms tighten around you as you sway together on the yacht’s deck.

“Happy birthday, mon ange,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.

You tilt your head back to smile up at him. “I know I say this every year, but this is the best birthday ever.”

Charles grins, his nose crinkling adorably. “Well you deserve the perfect birthday getaway.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly relaxed and blissful here in his arms. Charles always plans the most romantic adventures for your birthdays. But after three amazing years together, just being with your favorite person is celebration enough.

As the sun continues to set you chat and trade soft kisses. The conversation lulls eventually into comfortable silence.

Charles shifts behind you. “Y/N, can you turn around? There’s something I want to ask you.”

You swivel in his arms to face him, curious at his suddenly serious tone. But a radiant smile lights up his face.

Slowly, Charles sinks down to one knee before you. Your breath catches as he takes your hands in his.

“Mon amour, these past three years with you have been the happiest of my life. You are my best friend, my heart, my home. I want to laugh with you, explore the world with you, and grow old with you.” His eyes shine with emotion as he gazes up at you.

“So Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man alive by marrying me?”

Joyful tears fill your eyes. “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Charles’ face splits into the most delighted grin. He moves to stand but wobbles slightly, the boat swaying beneath the two of you.

You reach out to steady him. “Careful!”

“Sorry, just excited,” he laughs breathlessly. With exaggerated care he pulls a ring box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

Your smile widens impossibly further. The sunset lights the gems ablaze from within.

Charles takes your left hand gingerly, his own hands trembling. “I hope you lik-”

But his unsteady fingers fumble and the ring slips from his grasp. You both gasp, hands shooting out too late to catch it. The diamonds glint once in the dying sunlight before plopping into the blue water.

“No!” Charles cries in horror. In a flash he’s scrambling to rip off his shoes and shirt. Before you can react, he’s diving in after the lost ring.

“Charles!” You rush to the railing, scanning the rippling surface for him. Bubbles appear where he dove down. The seconds stretch nerve-wrackingly until finally he surfaces, gasping for breath. In his clutched fist, the ring gleams triumphantly.

Relief crashes over you as Charles swims to the ladder. He clambers back aboard the boat, soaked and panting but grinning ear to ear.

“I got it!” He crows, holding up the retrieved ring.

A delighted laugh bursts from you. Only Charles would dive headfirst off a yacht to save an engagement ring. You throw your arms around his dripping shoulders, not caring that you’re getting drenched too.

“My hero,” you kiss him soundly.

Charles wraps you in a soggy hug. “Couldn’t let this ring get away when I still have a very important question to ask you … again.”

He sinks down once more to his knee, water pooling around him. With his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes soaked through, he looks adorably bedraggled but still so breathtakingly handsome.

Grasping your hand again, he asks earnestly, “Y/N, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?”

“Yes!” You don’t think you’ve ever smiled so wide. “Yes, Charles, yes!”

Charles whoops triumphantly, surging up to kiss you passionately. This time his hands are steady as he finally successfully slips the ring onto your finger.

Admiring the shimmering diamonds you joke, “This ring might need a free cleaning after that swim.”

Charles laughs, pulling you close again. “I’ll get you a new one if you want. Anything for my future wife.”

Wife.

The word sends a thrill through you. You cup Charles’ face in your hands. “This is the only ring I’ll ever want. Because it’s from you.”

His eyes soften. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You lean in for another searing kiss as the last light fades behind the horizon.

When you finally draw back Charles wrinkles his nose. “As romantic as this is, I should probably get into some dry clothes.”

You laugh, plucking at his soaked shirt. “Good call. Then we can continue this celebration in proper style!”

Charles grins and sweeps you up into his arms. “I like the way you think, Future Madame Leclerc.”

***

“One more push, you’re almost there!”

You squeeze Charles’ hand with all your might, face scrunched in exertion, as you bear down to bring your baby into the world.

This is not exactly how you envisioned spending your birthday this year. But as you give one final push and hear your daughter’s first cries, you know this is already the best birthday of your life.

“She’s here! You did amazing, mon amour!” Charles says through joyful tears, kissing your sweat-damp forehead.

The doctor holds up the squalling, wriggling newborn. “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

Charles cuts the umbilical cord with shaky hands before the nurses whisk your daughter away to be cleaned and checked. He turns back to you, eyes shining. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. She’s perfect.”

You beam tiredly back at him. The child you created together, your little family, is finally here. After long months of waiting, your birthday wish has come true.

Soon the nurse returns, swaddling your baby girl in a soft pink blanket. “Say hello to your daughter,” she says gently, placing the tiny bundle in your arms.

You gaze down at your daughter, tears of joy and wonder sliding down your cheeks. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes — she’s absolute perfection.

“Hello Juliette,” you whisper. “Happy birthday, my beautiful girl.”

Charles perches gingerly on the edge of the bed, staring at you both like you hung the moon and stars. He reaches out a tentative finger to stroke Juliette’s downy head.

“She’s so small,” he marvels. “And so perfect. I can’t believe we made this little human.”

His voice cracks on the last word. Your tough Formula 1 driver melts into a puddle of emotion in the presence of his daughter.

You glance up at Charles, your husband, your soulmate, and now the father of your child. The utter love and joy shining from his eyes in this moment eclipses every birthday and every milestone you’ve shared before.

“I used to think so many birthdays were the best day of my life,” you say softly. “But now … this is it. The real best day.”

Charles smiles through his tears and leans in to kiss you tenderly. “This is just the start of so many best days together.”

You both gaze back down at the baby nestled between you. Juliette blinks up at you tiredly and the sight of her green eyes looking back at you takes your breath away.

Charles lets out an awed little laugh. “She has my eyes.”

He holds out a hand and Juliette instinctively grasps his finger. Charles completely melts.

“Hello, ma petite princesse,” he coos. “I’m your papa. And I’m going to love you forever.”

Juliette seems to study his face intently before giving a big yawn that makes you both chuckle. Your heart feels fit to burst watching Charles bond instantly with your daughter.

The next hours pass in a blissful blur of feeding, diaper changes, and stealing each moment possible to just gaze at the miracle you’ve created. You almost forget it’s even your birthday until Charles speaks up.

“You know, I had something else planned to celebrate today but Juliette decided she simply couldn’t wait,” he laughs.

You just smile. “This is the greatest gift I could have asked for.”

He leans down to brush a feather-light kiss to Juliette’s forehead, then yours.

“I guess we’ll just have to plan an extra special party when you’re both home,” he says with a smile. “Our little princess deserves the biggest birthday bash for entering the world on such a special day.”

You grin up at him. “I have a feeling her daddy will go all out.”

“Only the best for my girls.” Charles winks.

Juliette stirs in your arms, letting out the tiniest of baby sighs that melts you both instantly.

As Juliette drifts to sleep cradled between you, her little fingers curled around yours, you know this birthday marks the start of your greatest adventure yet and many more amazing birthdays still to come.

[worldsbeyondpod]

The WBN team strives to make the world of Umora as richly imagined as possible, and the fun thing about being mainly audio-only is that so much of what is described is up for personal interpretation, including the food!

We (aka the social media manager who loves to cook at home 😉) wanted to try our hand at the deliciously described Candle Street goodies: this is the croissant with marshmallow and chocolate, as described to Eursulon to Ame.

I don’t have the skill or patience to make croissants at home, so I purchased that at my favorite local bakery. I did make the marshmallows by myself! Broiled to golden brown, sandwiched between squares of dark sea salt chocolate,and added a dusting of crushed up freeze-dried strawberries over the top at the last minute.

I’m excited to keep on dreaming up and cooking the foods of Umora, and hope you join me! Tag us or use the #WorldsBeyondNumber hashtag to show us your interpretations of this world’s delectable delights (either irl or artistic renderings!).

This is the unofficial launch of the unofficial WBN cookbook club! 🧑‍🍳

[asteroidzzzn]

timeless

summary: no matter the decade, you and ellie seem to always find each other

word count: 4.3k

a/n: this ones for all my swifties that also have timeless (the best vault track btw) on repeat

a bustling crowd carried you downtown, where you roamed aimlessly. you tossed a quick few cents to a paperboy in exchange for the daily paper, Evening Standard, 1945.

Now, it is 50 miles to Warshaw, where the—

an unexpected object slammed against your forehead, while you were distracted reading. you stumbled away from the pole, your gaze drawn to the flickering lights of a nearby shop. a quaint little place, seemingly cozy.

something in your head said stop, so you walked in.

the place was a cluttered mess full of memories from countless lives. a cardboard box with a sign read photos, 25 cents each.

your hand reached in, revealing a photo of a woman in a wedding dress, smile bright while her husband next to her gazed at her as if she hung the stars. newlyweds stood proudly in front of their new house.

aged writing on the bottom of the photo stated that the couple, betty and james, bought their first house together in 1934, just a decade prior to present day.

although you had never seen the two before, you could tell one thing about them. their love was a rare kind, the love you were lucky to find just once in your life, for a fleeting second.

you saw yourself and ellie in that photo, in some alternate universe. it was a perfect world, where you could find a farmhouse on a hill, raise animals together, and no one would bat an eye at the fact you were two women in love.

you recalled ten minutes ago, reading the paper which regarded the war, praying to whatever god out there that she would come home safe.

with all the care in the world, you returned the photo to the counter, keeping your head low as the bell rung on your way out.

when you returned to your home, you quickly found your way to your room, lighting a candle and sinking down to the floor. your emotions overtook you, letting out a soft sob.

ellie was one of the few people you cared about. during the harsh conditions of the war, you found comfort with each other. you had a connection that you shared with no other.

the day she got sent across the world, you were devastated. at first, you visited her bakery, left abandoned with dust and broken glass. she assured you she would keep safe, simply serving soldiers their meals, but she could not console you.

your hand found its way under the bed, pulling out a shoebox. it contained letters from the past year.

tears trickled down your cheeks as you gripped the envelopes, reminders of her love and wellbeing.

a sudden warmth washed over you. a calm sense of sureness. you lingered on the beautiful memory of meeting ellie, that one winter day in 1944.

"oh dear, i'm so sorry, ma'am," you had apologized and brushed off the mysterious woman's apron.

"it-it's no worry," she told you, offering a smile.

if it were any other day, you would have figured out something equally as polite to say and be on your way.

but something seemed different today.

if it was any other person, you would have bowed your head in apology once more, and continued your trip to the market.

but you simply could never forget about this woman, let alone leave her for just a couple of tomatoes your mother had beckoned you to retrieve.

the woman adjusted her chef hat, pushing a strand of hair from her face, revealing her eyes, into which you shamelessly admired for probably a moment too long.

a soft chuckle fell from your lips as she struggled to straighten out the hat.

"who do you cook for?" you prompted, curious to know more about her.

"oh, i actually own my own bakery, down on seventh street." she lifted the paper bag in her hand. "i just went to pick up ingredients."

your eyes widened, "that's incredible, i'll have to go there someday!"

she bit her lip, seemingly lost in thought. "i'm heading there right now. would you like to come?"

nodding enthusiastically, you linked your arm with hers, glancing to the side to see the faintest blush dash across her freckled cheeks.

"lead the way," you told her. and she did.

you wiped your tears on the sheets hanging off the side of your bed, you dug through the box to find the most recent envelope you hadn't opened yet.

you read about her past week, a smile creeping up on your face as you saw the way she signed of her name.

yours, for all time, ellie

and you believed it. your love truly would be timeless.

"this is taking forever," you groaned out to yourself, ripping tape of and sealing yet another box shut. it was a gorgeous sunny day during the summer of 1981. however, you were stuck in a dark, hot garage, while all your friends spent the day at the beach.

the door creaked loudly, welcoming a person into the room. you did not look up from the box, assuming the shadow in the corner of your eye was your father, telling you to hurry up.

your family was moving to a new town for his work, and since your parents were extremely busy all day, you were burdened with the task of packing the entire garage.

a familiar, unexpected voice spoke out.

"need some help?" the smile was evident through her words, causing you to turn around swiftly.

"ellie? what are you doing here? how'd you get in? did my parents see—"

she hushed your worries with a kiss, pulling you behind a large shelf, shielding the two of you from the door leading into the house.

"came in through the window in the kitchen," she whispered on your lips, pulling a giggle out of you. "had to see you today," she whispered again, except with a hint of sadness, now.

you pulled yourself closer to her, eyes closed, memorizing the way her hands slipped under your flannel, holding you just as tight. a silent goodbye.

she felt your frame quiver against her and quickly moved her hold from your waist to your face, wiping any evidence of sorrow with her thumbs as you sniffled.

"sorry it's stupid that i'm crying it's just i'll...i'll miss you. a lot," you explained.

"it's okay...we'll be okay," she attempted. her words were as unsure as yours. "i'll write to you, and call you, and i'll visit when your parents are out of town," she promised.

you nodded, stepping away from her and toward the piles upon piles of unboxed items. she came up next to you, sorting through old pictures.

"what's this one?" she asked, holding up a photo, which you judged was very old from the way it had faded brown and had multiple tears along the edges.

in the photo, dated 1958, were your mother and father, when they were your age. they held hands, walking down your sidewalk. her in a dress, and him in a suit, just before their senior prom.

you chuckled, "those are my parents, but i've never seen that one before," grabbing the photo from her to study it, you recalled the night at prom you met ellie.

"we're gonna be late!" your friend, dina, had called upstairs where you were slipping on your shoes. it was the first school dance you had ever been to, making you extremely nervous.

"coming!" you shouted in return.

when you arrived at her mothers' car, you lifted up your dress to step inside. ms. woodward made small conversation with you, which dina suddenly interrupted with a sharp gasp.

"oh my god, i just remembered i heard leon ross asked you to prom! where is he? are you meeting him there?"

"oh, um, i'm not going with him," you replied with hesitance.

dina's eyebrows raised, "why not? he's super hot, nice, and he's the best player on the football team."

you shrugged, turning your head to gaze out the window.

"not my type."

you shortly arrived at school, and stepped into the gym, dina's arm linked with yours so you wouldn't lose each other in the bustling crowd.

the two of you met up with some friends and made your way to the center where everyone danced. at some point, dina nudged you to inform you she was heading to the bathroom. when she returned, she held up a blunt, wiggling her eyebrows.

you made your way outside, the cool air a refreshing contrast from the uncomfortable humidity of the windowless gym. you found a secluded space, yet there was a person leading against a wall who hadn't noticed you.

"who's that?" you asked dina, pointing at the person in a suit who was by themself.

"oh, that's ellie williams. she's the one that's gay, remember?"

"oh, yeah. okay."

you passed the blunt back and forth, chatting with dina. it was a beautiful and quiet night where you laid on your back, giggling and pointing out shapes strung out by the stars.

eventually, dina sighed and stood, noticing how people were exiting the gym in large groups.

"i should probably head home now, it's getting late."

you nodded, glancing at ellie, who was still alone, now sitting and gazing at the night sky.

"you need a ride?"

you glanced one more time. you couldn't let yourself go home without saying something.

"no, i'm fine, my dad should be here soon."

she hugged you, saying goodbye a final time before disappearing behind a building towards the parking lot.

you took a deep breath and headed towards ellie, having a spur of confidence from the weed.

you sat beside her. her eyes were on you, and time was standing still, waiting for one of you to speak up.

"hey," she said. hushed. confused. "do i know you?"

suddenly, this was a very very bad idea.

"oh, uh, no. you don't. i just wanted to say hi. you don't have any of your friends sitting with you," you pointed out, tearing your gaze away from her face to watch the groups of people leaving. soon, it would be just the two of you.

she scoffed at that, bringing her hands into her lap to spin her rings.

"don't have many of those."

"oh," you didn't know what to say. you assumed it was because she was outed as a lesbian just a few months ago. you heard the rumors, the words she was called, and saw the stares she received in the hallway.

you felt horrible for her, but figured she wouldn't want to talk about it anymore.

"i like your rings," you gestured to them. a small, kind compliment, but it didn't get the reaction you were hoping for.

"why are you here?" she lifted her gaze. was staring into you, searching for intention.

"my friend dina kinda forced me to go, so she—"

"no, why are you sitting with me right now? i don't need your sympathy. i know you know, everyone does."

your lips fell apart. you contemplated. it was absolutely ridiculous to tell someone you just met something to personal about yourself, but you felt the need to let her know. it would have helped you to know you have a friend that accepted you. someone who was just like you.

"i'm...i like girls too," a quiet whisper, only for her ears. "oh also, my names y/n," you added with a nervous chuckle. it was freeing to finally be able to tell someone, who you somehow knew would keep your secret safe.

she blinked. "oh."

you nodded, lips pursed. "you're the only one who knows. i can't imagine how it would be to have everyone at school know. especially if i didn't want them to. i just...i think you're brave, honestly, ellie. it's cool you can wear a suit to a dance. i wish i could do that," you rambled, watching as her lips twitched up into a shy smile.

"how'd you know my name?" was her only response.

the dark masked your blush, but the nervousness was still evident in your voice. "dina told me."

she hummed. "well, nice to meet you."

"yeah, you too."

it was a precious, innocent, memory. the start of something unexpected and beautiful, that swept you up like a sudden whirlwind.

in the deepest parts of your mind, there were some days you wished you had never went up to her. the thought that one day you would have to go your separate ways haunted you.

with one final look at the photograph of your parents, young and joyful, you placed it down. upon a shelf, was a photo of them on their wedding day, wearing the same giddy smiles as the day of prom.

one day, you wished, that could be you. finding ellie despite how long you would be apart on separate sides of the country, never letting your love die.

you glanced behind you at the girl who snuck past your parents to help you pack instead of doing anything else. she wanted to spend time with you.

that was all it took. you knew you would find each other again someday. against all odds. and everything would be okay.

you spent your afternoon in the castle's library, the one and only place you could find solitude. where no responsibilities weighed down on your shoulders. it was a peaceful, quiet moment until the doors swung open.

"darling? are you in here?" your father, the king, boomed out, his voice bouncing off the countless towering shelves.

you slammed the book shut, hastily slipping it into its rightful place and standing up, straightening out your dress as you stepped out from your comfortable place on the floor.

"yes, father?" you clasped your hands behind your back, forcing your posture up straight.

he rubbed his eyebrows with his thumb and pointer, as if he knew he could find you in the library off in your own world.

"you cannot continue to do this, dear. you will have responsibilities now."

you tilted your head with furrowed eyebrows, prompting him to explain.

he sent away his two loyal guards to have a private conversation with you.

"you know i would not have agreed to this if it did not depend on the fate of our kingdom," he began.

"father? what do you mean?"

he refused to look you in the eyes as he spoke. "you are to be wed to prince hill, the soon to be king of aragon. they threatened war, and this is the only solution to protect our nation and keep peace.

your eyes welled up with tears. you were left speechless. you swallowed your pride, nodding and wordlessly retreating to your room.

the days were dwindling away to when you would have to leave your home. just the night before you were destined to leave, your father knocked on the door to your room, where you had spent the majority of your days the past week.

you couldn't find any words for him besides politely asking him to let you get a good night's sleep.

your mouth remained sealed in the carriage, passing by endless terrains. you arrived at night, forming excuses so you wouldn't have to see the king. just not yet, i am not ready, you thought.

you slept in a massive room, tossing and turning on your new large mattress, yet you had no one to share it with.

the next day, you slipped past the guards into town. later that day, you figured you would tell them you merely wanted to greet the townspeople you would soon be ruling.

in common clothes, you perfectly blended in. the lack of attention on your presence was new. you could have gotten used to it.

you strolled past shops, observing and taking in the surroundings. the rush of breaking the rules, being where you weren't meant to be, caused you to roam the streets of the kingdom daily, until one morning, guards were stationed outside your room.

"oh, good morning," you greeted him. you couldn't see his face, covered by his helmet, and he stood so perfectly still, you wondered for a moment if he were just a statue.

the knight removed his—her helmet.

fear was not a feeling you experienced often. this was slightly different from fear, however. it was something you could never describe, even if you knew each word in the dictionary.

she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen. she couldn't have been much older than you, but you could tell her adventures had aged her. you imagined what she had been through in her life, wondering if maybe, one day, she would tell you all about it.

her green eyes shimmered for a fleeting moment, when the sun and the reflection of her helmet met and agreed to place a shine on her.

"good morning, princess. i am knight williams. i have been placed at your service for the next month up to the wedding, and to prevent you from exiting the castle during the day."

"i—but—what? why?" your words failed you, tumbling out in an unorganized mess.

knight williams cleared her throat. "i am to accompany you to breakfast shortly to meet with the prince. i will wait outside until you are ready, princess lowe."

you grimaced, "you do not need to address me so formally. just y/n will do."

her mouth opened to reply, but you swiftly shut the door to prevent a response. when you emerged from your room, the knight gestured for you to follow her.

"i assume you have recently been too busy sneaking away to explore the castle, so allow me to lead the way, princess."

you chuckled at her remark. "that is true, however, i did tell you there is no need to call me princess."

she let out an exasperated sigh, "if that is your wish, y/n."

"and what is your name?" you queried, as you made your way down a winding set of stairs.

her jaw tensed. "it would not be professional to be on a first name basis with each other."

you hummed, finding excitement in challenging her, "it would not be fun if you acted so uptight all the time. it would be nice to have a friend."

"i am your personal guard, not a friend."

discouraged, you remained quiet during the remaining walk to the dining hall. knight williams settled into the seat beside you, while the prince sat in front of you.

he was a handsome man, but there was something that just wasn't there. you remembered when you were a child, when your mother told you love stories. she told you what love felt like. it made you nervous, giddy, and excited, among many other wonderful things.

it was quite a dreadful realization that you did not love the man sitting in front of you, who you would be wed to within the next month.

as the prince bragged of his accomplishments, you smiled and nodded when appropriate. your eyes often found knight williams.

stoic and mysterious, you wanted her facade of being forbearing to crumble away.

through the following days, you tested her patience. you had absolutely no interest in the prince, dreading the wedding day. but even if it was for just a moment, simply the presence knight williams eased your nerves.

you could tell her wall was slipping away, she was slowly letting you in, becoming more comfortable around you. you told her stories of your fathers' battles, your kingdom's drama, and how you wished you were not royalty at all.

"why is that?" she prompted.

you squeezed the pillow in your lap. a ball was scheduled later that night, but opposed to tending to your duties as a soon to be queen, you were laying on your couch with knight williams, chatting on a rainy day.

"sometimes...i wish i were you. you are so brave and strong, and you have been out in the world. been in danger. just once in my life, i want to protect myself, and have a story of an adventure to tell."

she remained silent.

"i suppose that is quite ignorant though. i wish to go through suffering and pain, just to get a taste of it."

she cleared her throat. "i understand. to be honest, i wish that i were you, sometimes. along with everyone in the kingdom," her chuckle following her words was a sound you could have gotten drunk on every night of your life.

your lips lifted into a smile, which she returned, after a moment of hesitance. time slowed, pausing so all there was, and all you hoped would be, was you and knight williams sitting on that couch on that rainy day.

her gaze fell, her shoulders tensing, slicing the frozen moment and returning to reality.

"you should prepare for the ball."

you swallowed, "yes, i should."

it was a horrible night. you shook hands with, curtsied to, and danced with men and women of importance for hours on end.

"sir, i apologize deeply, but i must head outside for a quick moment of fresh air," you bowed without waiting for response from a king of a kingdom you did not care about, and wove your way through the crowd until you pushed the gates to the garden open.

your hand traced the petals of pink flowers on a bush as you strolled through the garden.

the grass behind you rustled.

"it is just me, y/n," knight williams spoke.

you continued to wander in the garden, eventually coming upon a clearing where you fell to the ground, settling on your back.

"you may want to find somewhere else to sit, your dress will be stained—"

"i do not care. come lay with me. please."

the knight removed her helmet. then followed each piece of armor, leaving her in a crinkled white top and brown trousers.

"the stars are beautiful tonight," you told her. "i have seen drawings of constellations in my books, yet i have never been able to recognize them in the sky."

in a swift moment, knight williams took hold of your hand with herrs, pointing up to the sky in a pattern, which helped you to see a constellation which resembled a scorpion.

"wow..." you breathed. "show me more."

the two of you talked of astronomy, which you both had an interest in since you were children.

you giggled and pointed up at the sky, "that one looks like the prince. the star over there is his abnormally large chin jutting out."

you felt accomplished when knight williams let out a loud laugh. you wanted to know what she thought about the prince. did she see what you did? that something was missing from him, that you couldn't quite place?

"have you ever been in love?"

she nearly choked at your words.

"i—i have. why do you wonder?"

"i want to know what it is like. i think i am not in love with prince hills."

"i think you are not either," she whispered. her body adjusted to face yours. you mirrored her action.

"so? what is love like?" you repeated.

"it is...well...you want to spend all your time with that person. and they might make your stomach hurt. and make you very nervous. you may even think they are perfect."

her gaze did not falter, stuck on your curious eyes.

she chewed on her bottom lip. "do you feel that for the prince?"

"i do not," you replied, a chill rushing over your body. it could have been the autumn chill, yet you believed it was something different.

"i would rather spend all my time with you, knight william—"

"my name is ellie."

your heart raced. "and it is you, ellie, who makes me nervous. and i think you are as close to perfect a human could—"

your words died on your tongue, as she inched closer to you, the only noise being the grass which moved under her and your heavy breathing.

when her lips pressed against yours, you suddenly knew what love was. in hidden corridors, nights by the fireplace, away from the sight of prince hills, your love for ellie grew.

on the fateful day when stood in a white gown in a chapel, telling the prince you vowed to marry him, ellie sat with her head down.

you blinked a single tear from your eye.

in the castle, you made a simple excuse that you were exhausted to avoid spending the night with your husband. ellie stood outside your bedroom door, unsure whether or not to enter.

as soon as she heard your sobs, the door was flung open.

"y/n..." she whispered your name, stripping herself of her armor to pull you into her chest.

"can we run away from it all, ellie? i want to leave it all behind."

she held your face, grounding you with her sturdy touch.

"you have a kingdom to rule. i will always be here, though. i will never leave your side."

you nodded. "i know. i will always be yours."

the two of you drifted off to sleep, comforted by promises, trusting, because you just knew.

you blinked awake when the bright sun trickled through your blinds, the book on your chest unfinished. your wife beside you stirred awake.

"mornin'," she rasped, then gestured to the book. "whatcha got there?"

you had found the book with cobwebs and dust, a fairytale of a young couple destined to never be together by fate.

"it's an old romance book. hundreds of years ago they fell in love, despite all odds."

ellie smiled, "just like we did."

you scoffed, playfully hitting her arm. "you're such a sap."

a/n: omg im clinically insane

taglist: @skylerwhitwyo @ximtiredx @ohitsjordynn @gold-dustwomxn @elliesinterlude @fireflyels @trulygnomed @deluluwh-0-re @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss @emluvselandabs @ariianelle @jokerpokimoon @lonelyfooryouonly @lil-elliesgf @yuaaa05 @ourautumn86 @ucannotcompare @lunarpretty @cassharass @uberyellowsheep @444na0m1

[annawrites444]

Bat Boys Relationship Headcanons

⚠️DO NOT REPOST ON ANY WEBSITE OR PLATFORM WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT⚠️

Azriel

he is definitely the type of guy to memorize the smallest details in your everyday life and take note of things you might only mention once.

OH NO! You're having a rough day at work?-he will drop off your favorite food or drink to give you a little boost during a hard shift or meeting.

If you have a bad day, Azriel will make you your favorite foods for dinner as he comforts you in his arms.

When you go on your nightly strolls down the lamplit streets of Velaris, you might mention a book series you were currently reading or talk about wanting to try a certain pastry from your favorite bakery that just came out with new flavors. Azriel being the ever kind partner he is, will not only get you the next book in your series but buy you a whole box of pastries from that bakery you both love, including the new flavors you wanted to try.

All in all, Azriel loves to show his love and dedication to you in the small things :)

Cassian

Cassian strikes me as more of an impulsive male. While we know he is very strategic and careful, he does love to have his share of fun with his family and especially with you.

You might be expecting a romantic candle lit dinner from the High Lord's general, but NO not Cassian. He would 100% grab his date and burst up into flight (with your consent of course) to show you the views of Velaris the City of Stars. You would go soaring in his arms, catching the golden beams of the lingering sunset and watching as the city below you drown in the remaining colors of gold before melting into the many colors of dusk.

Cassian might end this impromptu flight by landing you on a nearby terrace and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how much you mean to him, how much more you mean than all the stars you'd see in the darkening night sky.

Cassian is just as much the romantic as any of the other bat boys, but I see him opting for more activity based dates, and wanting to try something new with his partner.

Rhysand

Ahhh the most handsome highlord himself- Rhysand.

Now compared to the other two Rhysand to me is more vocal about his partners and is the type to brag on you quite a lot. (Out of love though <3)

"Oh YOUR partner is an excellent fighter?? Well MY partner is able to take down a hoard of men with just a few hits..."

Besides the proud bragging about his partner Rhysand really is loving, he will always be there for you with a shoulder to cry on if needed, listening to any rant or issue you may have weighing heavily on your mind.

He gives me the vibe that he loves to hear about any Tea or Drama going on in your life -"and then she got exposed for cheating." and then Rhysand would go- "OH N0O SHE DIDNT???!!!"

He would definiteley listen to everything you might want to ever say, should you be interrupted by anyone he would 100% stop the conversation and make everyone shut up and listen to you speak. "Excuse you, I don't believe y/n was ever done talking?? Continue darling".

All of this said, the three of them try their hardest to show their love to you in different ways, each one making you feel more loved and special. <3

[todorokies]

megumi reminds me so much of autumn . . . the leaves turning frail and crunchy, the outdoor air carrying a cold breeze that shakes wind chimes, the days fall short whereas the nights stills longer, warm maroon coloured sweaters, vanilla and apple scents follows in bakeries and candle shops . . .

this time of year cast a lovely veil over megumi’s life which temporarily reliefs him of his duties as a sorcerer. he chooses his spare time wisely and doesn’t take it for granted, since you occupy most of his thoughts its only warranted he spends his lazy saturdays with you by his side.

the first saturday of october, you both visit a secondhand book store after grabbing tea at a cozy cafe. megumi buys a agatha christie novel, the murder at the vicarage, you on the other hand buy a r.l stine goosebumps book. he sighs with a soft smile of his face, “typical…” he mutters to himself.

the second saturday of october, you, yuji, and nobara somehow grouped megumi into playing with an ouija board. after countless attempts of asking questions to the actual thin air, the planchette moves to the ‘yes’ side of the board after you and nobara jokingly asked: ‘does someone haunt the dorm room in the male east wing?’ the room was soon filled with screams of terror . . . needless to say you spent the night in your boyfriend’s dorm cuddled up in his arms.

the third saturday of october consists of going into tokyo for a street festival. traditional snacks, candy apples, cinnamon rolls and the smell of caramel wafts throughout the street. going hand in hand manoeuvring through the large crowd while looking at the cool vendors and displays and occasionally saying, “look 'gumi let's check this one out!”

with the fourth and final saturday of october, you currently reside in the commoner kitchen sitting on top of the counter watching megumi use halloween-themed cookie cutters on pre-made dough. the plan for tonight was to stay in and watch hocus pocus, after some time you break the comfortable silence, "so... since when do you like halloween?" a small smirk plays on his lips "who said i didn't?"

“you don’t seem like the type, you know?” you take a neatly rolled up piece of cookie dough off the baking sheet to prop it in your mouth, “if i didn’t know you well enough i’d probably think your favourite holiday was something boring like new year’s.” he snickers at your claim but covers it up with a fake dry cough not wanting to give you that full satisfaction.

he ends up choosing to ignore your comment, “there’s a lot of things to do around the fall time that entertains me. that’s all.” you teasingly wiggle your eyebrows clearly fascinated by this new discovery. “did you ever dress up for halloween?”

“gojo used to dress me and tsumiki up all the time when we were little. one year we went as oompa loompas and he dressed as willy wonka.” his eyebrow slightly twitches in annoyance by the faint memory.

you hold in your laughter mainly to protect megumi’s ego and make a mental note to ask gojo for proof with pictures later. “i’m glad you wanna spend this month with me it seems like it means a lot to you.” you blurt out suddenly while fondly smiling at him as you softly trace over his chuckles with your finger.

his breath gets stuck in his throat and he can practically feel the blush climbing from his neck up to his face. you always seem to do this to him; make him awestruck and flustered like an idiot with a freshly new crush. but in hindsight, he doesn’t think the puppy love phase will ever end, at least not for him, you still make his stomach flip and tumble after many months together.

contrary to popular belief, megumi believes that the month of love doesn’t take place in february, but in the month of october. where the orange, yellow, and red is a far more appealing set of colours than pink and white.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3 a/n: in honor of it being september

[sukunasun]

WHERE OUR PIECES FALL IN PLACE | NANAMI KENTO X CHUBBY READER

instead of an expected reunion—imagines that he’ll meet you in the middle of the street randomly one day by fate. maybe in a garden among pretty flowers but you’d be the only thing he can’t take his eyes off. or by the ocean, no one else but a man confessing his sins that shall be buried below water and he’ll be anew, he'll be forgiven—nanami is only left with silence on your end.

a sequel to 'SAY IT'S HERE'

sometime in the middle of the twin's birthday party, when the candles are blown out and yuuji's tiger face paint starts to crack around the corners of his smile, geto hands nanami two slices of cake. nice thick wedges of strawberry and chocolate, alternating pink and brown towered high with rainbow sprinkles on top.

it isn't a surprise the twins couldn't decide on a cake flavour so geto layered them both, however, what does surprise nanami is that he hands it to him on a plate with ice cream on the side as well. he pokes his spoon into the melting scoop of vanilla and wonders how people have the appetite for something this insanely sweet. then looks up to see gojo gobbling down his fifth serving of cake, exerting himself in getting that last piece of boba at the very bottom of his milk tea, plastic cup contracting with these resounding pops they both ignore. not to mention that he's already gone through two pints of rocky road.

geto's face is stoic but reluctantly so, a crease forming between furrowed brows, "thanks for coming, and thank you for the gifts, the girls love them," is all he says, voice even. despite his loyalties to you, he doesn't forget that he's nanami's friend too.

which nanami could commend him for, he doesn't make it about himself, this is the day his daughters were born, he's meant to celebrate. call it common ground. geto's lips lift at the corners when he looks over to see the two of them slowly prying wrapping paper off the multiple boxes nanami had flown in. he'd been undecided on what to get because gifts are not his strong suit, he's never understood the need for such materialistic representations of love but he likes the twins, so he bought...everything under the sun. (yuuji helps them with the bigger ones and in the process, screeches so loud he almost breaks a window when it's revealed that nanako and mimiko have received not one, but two game consoles.)

"by the way, i'm not picking sides but i think you should talk to her," geto says warily, his hand clasped beneath his chin as he eases his way into the subject. to say that he's torn would be an understatement because he always does this. gets in his feelings and worries til grey hairs and frown lines appear yet, it shows. geto can't help but care for others and make it known, say it with words that don't get caught in his throat, and proves it through his many sentimental ways.

nanami almost dismisses the notion because it's not like he hasn't tried. it's been the longest time without seeing or hearing from you since...well, since you broke up with him via call, left your job, and stopped coming around the usual places. the cafe, the bakery. there had been a few missed calls in between (47 to be exact, all sparingly spaced out across weeks because he doesn’t want to seem too desperate. he's meticulous like that) some voice messages he's left in your chat that probably went unheard. he's even contemplated if he should show up at your apartment. (but he's not crazy. of course not.)

instead of an expected reunion—imagines that he’ll meet you in the middle of the street randomly one day by fate. maybe in a garden among pretty flowers but you’d be the only thing he can’t take his eyes off. or by the ocean, no one else but a man confessing his sins that shall be buried below water and he’ll be anew, he'll be forgiven—nanami is only left with silence on your end.

"i appreciate your concern, but this is neither the time nor the place," nanami's face is impassive, showing no signs of honing any hard feelings. not on the surface at least. "besides, what good will it do, she has moved on." a tugging in his chest is felt as the memories of you showing up at his favourite bookstore with another man come flooding back.

gojo interrupts his thoughts, "about damn time, she's liked you for ages, i tried warning her but who knows what she ever saw in you," he complains while geto clicks his teeth and shoots him a piercing glare because he's definitely not helping the situation.

nanami clenches his jaw, he doesn't need reminders. he of all people should be very well aware that he sits in geto's living room with pompompurin ears on his head feeling at his very lowest because he's lost you and he lives with that regret every day.

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the tokyo museum hosts an exhibition on rodin sculptures. his life's work displayed in phases, epochs depicting the best and little-known, of stories centred around great heroes and lovers. their lives and feelings depicted in dynamic poses, down to the most intimate of embraces chipped and carved into bronze, alabaster, and marble. a preserved intimacy, a history behind every look and touch. haunting and somewhat forever living...just like the image of nanami in that bookstore haunts you.

"thanks for that," you say to the man beside you. voice travelling over the loud chatter among patrons. young and old and excessively rich. looking down, you peer over the pamphlet tucked by your elbow, stepping before different sculptures of varying sizes. you're stunned by the mastery of craft and precision but the emotions evoking within you are hesitant. like it was...wrong to be here with someone else. to be looking at these figures and having no relation to them. all that passion and yearning, why is it that you feel grief instead. a part of you missing.

"i saw it in his eyes, he's guilty," higuruma strolls next to you, bored out of his mind. “i mean, he looks guilty.”

“i’ve never seen him like that," you explain. not even when there were rumors about his past breakups floating around the office. nanami only seemed nonchalant. like it barely affected him. cutting someone loose a mere task he's checked off before it's back to work.

“what did you think he’d look like?” higuruma asks.

“relieved? happy?” he looked like a shell of himself, hollow, miserable. you wished you could relish in that, take pleasure in the way he seemed so empty, so dejected. payback, you think. for only loving you in silence, and thus, he suffers in silence too. but you find that you've been feeling just as brokenhearted.

hiromi shrugs, “from what i've seen, you’re entirely capable of making him as..." he pauses—tilts his head when you both come closer to a sculpture—then continues, "...afflicted as he is with you."

whatever hiromi means by that, you don’t know. his voice almost lost on your ears when he moves away from you to examine it closer. here, the sculpture portrays the man as a figure who is fully at the woman's disposal due to the adoration he possesses for her. 'The Eternal Idol' it reads. tenderness, sensuality, submission, and humility to the world in a woman's form.

you dismiss him, “please, you say that like he was head over heels in love with me, i think he just pitied me,” luring you in with the homemade bread and leatherbound jane austen. a voice so soothing and a face you see in every other man. an urge to place him next to them in comparison, hoping they’d shift and mold themselves to be the capable salaryman with blue shirts and a suit jacket that pools over your shoulders, smelling like tea and galettes and that they’d be just like him. only that they’d love you differently, loved you more, kiss you til your lips swell, and there wouldn’t be a need to hide or to fear or make you chase after the unknown, you’d know he loves you and only you. 

"these accusations you make are unfounded,” higuruma merely states, "and it's also rather unjust to yourself." when he turns towards you, you expect to see a teasing, flirty glint in his eye. instead, you're greeted with nothing but his flat expression before he looks away. oh, he was just being factual.

“you should be his attorney," you try to joke.

his lips quirk up by the corners, “not even i could plead his case, the man reeks of remorse, even if he did deceive you, he’s not proud of it, which makes him less likely to defend himself..." his hands come up to brush over the engraved caption on the plaque. they're nice hands, rough, but a little too big, too gentle, like he could let you go at any moment if he wishes. nothing like nanami's. if nanami were to hold your hand he'd hold on for dear life.

“there’s no justice in that,” higuruma's decided he's done with this sculpture, picks his head up and moves away to the next one, he doesn't get attached. he doesn't linger. maybe that's why you never took things further, he's always seen things in black and white, like you were just another one of his cases. saw the teary look on your face, the long hours pouring over every detail leading up to the end and he couldn't leave it alone.

you sigh, wrapping a hand around his arm as you continue to walk down crowded corridors. "speaking like a true lawyer, one who's so distinguished."

he breathes out a rare laugh, not a real one, just these puffs of air he exhales along with a grin. "so depraved, haven't i told you the system's fucked?"

at that, you let out a laugh too, for the first time in awhile, "i'm afraid it's the same when it comes to matters of the heart." you look up, savouring him for now. he's just here right the wrongs, bring some perspective, and that was all there was to it.

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by midnight, your phone starts buzzing by your side, jittering against the mattress. without looking at the screen, you have an idea of who it might most likely be on the other end.

ding. ding. you reach for it to see that it's nanami again. for the fifth time today. a new voice message he's recorded for you sitting there in your messages. waiting as always, for your recognition, for your reply. you wouldn't want to give him the privilege or the pleasure. you've broken up with him after all, but you're unable to pull away from him and his futile attempts. forget that you have yet to wake from the lingering bits of a dream, or that you've got an interview come morning.

nanami's voice fills the emptiness of your room, spine-tingling and molten hot. you almost miss the intros—hi, hello, please bear with me, all the usual. you've heard it in clipped and composed tones, as if he's rehearsed these lines, must have written them down on his legal pad before pressing record, his lines spoken awkward and uncertain way, tightly wound in guilt.

only now he sounds different. the exhausted drawl, the languid pulling of his syllables, slurring and seductive. "those hyacinths..." he starts, "don't over-water them." he had them delivered to your place and you had only accepted them because they were a gift, it would be sad to turn them down after he's paid for them. plus, it would be a shame to send them back, these florists have put in so much effort.

nanami pauses for a second, you hear him taking big gulps, no doubt the whiskey bottle is empty at this point before he continues, "am i any closer to getting you back?" after a short pause, the message goes silent, like he's realised what he's asked.

you press play on another where rambles on, or whatever is nanami's version of rambling. a deep voice rumbling from his chest, a heavy sigh, a string of words you can't tell decipher. if they're genuine or not with how needy he gets. nanami never gets needy. nanami never begs. it's just the alcohol talking, you wouldn't know what he's like when in the throes of proclamation...still, his voice curls its way into your heart, wringing it tight when he drawls, "tell me so i can be put out of my misery, or better yet, come back into my life."

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geto and gojo sit across from you at the library. their bodies dwarfing the kid-size chairs and desks. close by, mimiko and nanako work on their math problems both with equal amounts of distaste but suguru's promised they'll get double the snacks as a reward for tackling their multiplication tables, hence they try their best, fingers counting down one by one.

on the other hand, you're busy colouring a page from a fairytale. a scene of a royal couple dancing at a ball, lingering by the edges is a crowd looking on happily as they twirl under glittering stars, a whole universe cheering for their union. you hold back the forlorn sigh as your hand involuntarily reaches for a yellow crayon, even here, you wish to colour in blonde locks below the prince's crown. you can't see it any other way.

"sorry about the party," you apologize, missing their birthday bash hadn't been the plan, but suguru had given you the heads up on nanami's appearance and you thought...it wouldn't be a good idea. things were still too fresh, too new, it would've been uncomfortable for everyone.

you know it was a selfish excuse, but suguru won't hold it against you. "i understand," he replies but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. 'i understand' doesn't mean the same as 'it's okay to miss out on a special day because you're afraid of conflict'. which is why you're trying extra hard to make up for it now. shifting focus to your friends instead, you avert your attention. dodging any discussion about the breakup, or nanami, or the fact that you cling on.

satoru however, doesn't fall for any of it and jumps into his interrogation. his honesty comes out sharp and biting albeit genuinely oblivious—"how long are you planning on avoiding him?" his voice is too loud for comfort and the librarian would shush him if it weren't for his charm. he's been flirting with her so they get to check out as many books as they want, plus, waiving late fees goes against geto's rules but he'll take it as a kindness for now.

you roll your eyes, he's way too good at reading you, or maybe you've just been so transparent anyone would've notice. "i'm not avoiding him, it's called moving on," you try to reason, although it's starting to sound exactly as gojo puts it.

nanami chases you down for reconciliation and nothing more, a settlement of sorts. you've already assumed it was because of guilt. he doesn't want to be the bad guy possibly. why else would nanami be leaving messages, making calls, and sending a million flowers if not as an act of atonement.

and when has he ever needed to repent, nanami's always been so aloof, you've seen him brush things off with a calm and cool demeanour, sorry is merely a word he gives to strangers he's accidentally bumped into on the train. he'll come out of this with that perfect head on his shoulders held high after the remnants of past memories have faded and no longer hold any significance to him. he could always bake more french loaves and there's more wine to be tasted. he'll continue siphoning his emotions into the separate little folders of his makeup. you've never taken up the space of his heart because that shall be reserved for someone else—"he'll get over me in due time," you say, loathing how the words taste, how it makes you hate yourself.

"geez," satoru shrugs off the tension from his shoulders, "melodrama doesn't look good on you," the jab strikes where it hurts the most.

your face falls, give it a few seconds and you'll start crying in the middle of the children's section, "i guess i wanted more," you swallow down the embarrassment, typical that you've ended up here. back to where you've always been. single, jobless, a few pounds heavier, a few more cracks in your aching heart.

"there's a lot going on—" suguru cuts in, hoping it'll make you feel better, "—it's okay to feel as you do." sympathetic as it is, you start to wonder if you've traded in a birthday for a pity party when there's a truth in what satoru says.

in the silence that passes, the scene you work on is full of colour, save for the stars you've left in white. the twins have completed their exercise sheet, and satoru stretches his limbs and yawns like a cat basking under an afternoon sun. suguru might give him a pep-talk after this and he might feel bad for bringing up the whole thing, but it has to be said— "talk to the guy, he's never looked worse."

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on the walk home, the clouds start to gather. greying skies and thunder roaring above you. behind the clearing of mist and cold, you see him standing right outside your building. not knowing how long he's been there, but judging by the steady rhythm of his pacing feet, nanami's been waiting for a while. if anything, he's patient and—god help you—persistent.

the drizzle gets heavier and rain pours down over his body, soaking through the layers of fabric; his coat, his tie, his white shirt. golden blonde hair turning into a muddy shade of ash, strands clumping together, droplets hanging off and sticking to his skin. to his foggy glasses, thin-rimmed and shining. although drenched and dishevelled, he is every bit the man you love, and you hate that you can't look away, turn him down and kick him to the curb, pretend he doesn't exist.

taking him in, your heart clenches when the light of a lamppost next to you cuts a glowing line across his sullen face, highlighting the deep depths of his cheeks. you see that he looks exhausted, more so than usual, and he's lost a little bit of weight. you think to say something, ask him if he's been skipping meals, that it's no way to deal with his remorse. anything that would break the tension but kento beats you to it.

"we need to talk," he says in a low voice but it takes almost every fibre of his being to say it, "i thought this was the only way we could do so." he recognizes what he's doing, he's being invasive, he's being desperate and when was that word ever associated with him. not til now he supposes, not before you.

“don't you know it’s embarrassing to chase after an ex?" the bite won't be drowned out by pitter-patter, it stings, but he doesn't move an inch. swallows that lump in his throat and prepares himself for the words he's about to utter.

"i am not the best with words, but believe me when i say i am not ashamed of you–" he pauses. waits for your reaction but chooses to continue, nothing will come in between, not here and now, "forgive me—for my ignorance, for my restraint, it is because of me that you felt our relationship was one-sided."

that should do it he thinks, he's laid it out on the table, he's said what he came to say. placid and concise. and at first, he's relieved, he professes and proclaims without expectation. he didn't come here hoping for more, that part of him has been tampered with and put out by his own self-doubt. he only wishes to let you know. he'll force himself to be content with solely acknowledgement.

but he starts to worry when he sees the anger seep into your features. “you’re upset,” he states, unsatisfied, "i thought it would be best if we got closure—"

“did you come all this way just for closure?" your question hangs in the air. each passing second filled with the sound of raindrops and the million thoughts bouncing off his brain. you shouldn't put him through this anymore, it's practically ruining him from the inside out. “you’re forgiven, let it ease your conscience,” you say, ready to turn away and leave him for good this time.

he sucks in a breath, frustration prickling all over, “i am a man that’s lacking, trying to convey to you the things that cannot be conveyed, i have never been a passionate person and you knew this." you can see it so obviously in his expression that you've made him this way, twisting him up into knots over the need for verbalization, for definitions and arguments he can't give.

your eyes narrow, getting defensive. you always thought you could be the exception, that you'd be the one to experience it firsthand, his fervent need for you, whatever version of it you could get. "you denied me in front of people you cared about, you were always so cautious and constipated, like you couldn't bear it, i get that you're not into big girls but—"

"that's not true!" he says quickly, voice rising with tension. his hands come up to hold your face in them, thumbs rubbing over damp cheeks and warm skin before realizing...he's neevr actually felt it. how does a man concede, he's scared, fearful of an inevitable end, "i didn't want to lose you," he admits softly. lips less than an inch away, breaths a hair's width apart.

you try to pry his hands away, shaking your head, there's no use when "you can't love me the way i want you to and maybe i'm not the one who's meant to be loved by you."

nanami doesn't let go, "i can only love you the only way i know how, it was never my intention to make you feel less than—" with no more hesitance, no more weighing speeches and consequences, he tells you the truth—"my love for you...has made me selfish. it has consumed me, i want you so much that i don't know what to do with it. why should i put you through that, burden you with me."

"you were never a burden 'ken," his name sounds so bittersweet, as if there's still a fondness there, the way you gently hold those syllables without spite but he hears the longing, the hurt. "i didn't want you holding back for my sake, i've liked you for so long, i was ready for it all, even when it came to losing you, i don't need you to be something you're not."

he's never had that ability, despite his efforts, he isn't capable of detachment, with all his distractions and defeats, he's ultimately bound to you, too well tangled in his soul. "you shall move on but i cannot do the same—my life starts and ends with you, do you understand?” 

you nod silently, looking up at him with widened eyes and catching the specks of dew on his lashes when his eyes travel toward your lips, his thumbs caressing them tenderly, benevolently.

"despite my shortcomings and the fact that you are now seeing someone else, i would like to try again, please allow me to do my best." nanami opens up to you as a flower blooms, petals blossoming, coming apart to reveal the innermost parts of himself. red spreading across his skin from the tips of his ears to his lips when he parts them under yours. he wasn’t made to hide it, all that restraint keeping him from you, from what he knows is his deepest desire. made to love, loudly and forever. there, where two lives meet again, coming together and converging.

[jeridandridge]

Autumn Days

The giddy excitement Melissa feels as she drives is enough to make her vibrate. You were in the passenger seat as usual, looking at the map on your phone while you two head for the cider mill. Melissa had a secret, one that was on a silver band hidden away in her bookshelf at home. Now, driving in the crisp morning air Melissa glances over unable to stop the warm smile spreading across her lips as the sun rays come through the window giving your hair a warm glow and your black sunglasses sparkle.

“If we keep going straight we’ll hit Main Street and it’s right there.” You tell your girlfriend, completely unaware of her loving gaze.

As you two pull into the grassy parking area you beam like a little kid rounding the truck to hold Melissa’s hand.

“I haven’t been to one of these places since I was a kid.”

“Yeah? Well we’re pulling out all the stops.” Melissa beams lacing your fingers together as you walk through the entrance. Taking in a deep breath you smell cinnamon and cider making you shimmy your shoulders in excitement.

“Hayride and apple picking first?”

“You bet, hon.”

As you two walk through the crowd you find the little stand to pay to get on the hayride and offer Melissa your hand to climb up onto the makeshift seats. “Covered in hay.” You chuckle. “I bet you’re already thinking about what you can bake with the apples we pick.”

Melissa grins squeezing your hand. “And the pumpkins we’re gonna carve.”

She looked like a little kid in a candy store, bright eyed and a permanent smile etched onto her lips. Looking over you can’t help but squeeze her hand grinning like an idiot. She made you feel warm and fuzzy, alive.

As the afternoon goes on you carry your bag of apples over your shoulder as you walk through the bakery and shop looking at all the sweet treats. With a handful of Carmel apple suckers between your fingers you weave around other people and strollers getting to the cider.

“Baby, do you want a jug of cider for the house?”

“Yeah! We can use it as a mixer.” Melissa grins. “You need all those suckers?” She laughs.

“Of course I do! They’re seasonal, Mel!” You smile happily carrying everything to the checkout.

When you two come out of the store you hold onto both bags in one hand and Melissa’s with the other, happily intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t wanna put pressure on you, but I’m gonna kick your coolie at carving.”

You quirk a brow eyeing the playful smirk on her lips. “You’re on, Schemmenti.”

Back at home with a candle burning, cider drinks made, and a cozy fall playlist going you and Melissa stand at the opposite sides of the plastic covered table with a sucker between your lips. Standing with a determined look on your face you finally come up with an idea, not having a clue as to what’s going on with Melissa.

The redhead is already holding the pumpkin back, drawing her design. She tries to keep her hand steady as she writes.

“I got you big time, Schemmenti.” You grin getting started on your carving by taking the top off.

Melissa shakes her head with a smirk taking her time with the carving not wanting to finish too soon. As you get to carving yours you stand up and hum and bop along to Don’t Fear The Reaper.

“You’re so cute.” Melissa chuckles watching you concentrate on your work, the little crinkle between your eyes being one of your favorite mannerisms.

“I’m very cute.” You grin right back at her. “Don’t try to sweet talk me. I’m winning this thing.”

“I dunno about that one, Tesoro.”

You smile flicking pumpkin guts onto the plastic with a scrunched up nose not thinking of anything going on from the other side of the table. When all is said and done Melissa stands up getting the pumpkin guts off her hands with a towel

“Are you done already?” You chuckle, “let me see.”

“No!” Melissa panics. “Not yet, we gotta wait for the reveal with the little lights.” She recovers easily. You nod and open the package for the little fake candles.

“Here, I’ll do those and spin em around for you to see em.” Melissa tells you with a giddy smile. There was definitely something going on.

“Okay,” you chuckle going over to flick the lights off so you can get the full effect.

Melissa’s hands shake as she opens up the top of the pumpkin, the smell is almost too much in the moment with her senses on overload. She’s never been so nervous in her life. Placing the battery powered lights in the pumpkins she turns yours around first smiling at the witch design.

“I carved Kristen, you like it?” You joke.

Melissa laughs holding onto the other pumpkin. “I really do, hon. You got her nose just right.” You were definitely the one for her.

Carefully turning the pumpkin around, she keeps her eyes on you. When you see the words carved and glowing you let out a gasp, your eyes going over the words over and over again. Four words that change everything.

Moving to stand beside you Melissa wraps her arms around your waist.

“Will you marry me, hon?”

Spinning in her arms you beam like an idiot pulling her into frantic kiss.

“Yes!” You laugh, “oh my god, Mel yes!”

Melissa squeezes you in a tight hug before holding the gorgeous engagement ring out to slide onto your finger.

Cupping her cheeks in your hands you lean in giving her a sweet kiss before grinning once again.

“Best day ever.”

[climbthemountain2020]

Solstice Gifts

Baby's first Feysand! | Ao3

[Feyre loves buying Solstice gifts for her family, but this year she might have been outdone.]

Eternal thank yous and forehead kisses to @tunaababee @cauldronblssd and @witch-and-her-witcher for just being the most wonderful humans and beta reading and encouraging me to post this.

Solstice in Velaris was the most lovely time of year, and no matter how much time Feyre spent here, she doubted she’d ever grow tired of it.

The snowy streets were covered in faelights, all twisted into beautiful shapes and hanging from the signs and light posts. There were long strings of them criss-crossing over The Rainbow and casting all the snow and shops in an ethereal glow. Complex smells of cinnamon, clove, freshly baked breads, rosemary, and mulled ciders cascaded from the storefronts, their windows decked in boughs of holly and fir and their doors hung with mistletoe.

Feyre was hurrying back to the River House, late as usual, with the last of her gifts.

She’d been mostly organized this year, but Nesta’s gift had ended up taking longer than expected, and of course today was the first time she’d been able to sneak off to grab the little Illyrian leathers with space for wings that would fit an almost-four year old.

She’d gone a little overboard on gifts this year, but it was hard to not spoil those she loved now that she had the means. Old habits die hard, and she too-vividly remembered the years that she and her sisters had stoically ignored the Solstice happening at all, not even a candle lit in the windows to be spared. So now, when things had changed so vastly in the last seven years, she would fully use every bit of means at her disposal to shower everyone with gifts they would love.

Nyx was six now, somehow, the years flying by in a rush that she tried and failed to stop like grabbing whitewater in her hands. Rhysand reassured her constantly, a laugh on his lips, that though time was flying, they still had centuries together, and there was no need to beg for more. Another thing she had trouble letting go of in her immortality–the idea that things were good now, and there was no time limit on it. Things could be happy and productive and peaceful like this for centuries more. But Feyre still had trouble allowing hope for good things to bloom in her heart, despite feeling beyond blessed in all ways.

She shuffled the bags in her arms–she’d had to stop for some last-minute pastries, too. What good was a solstice birthday if she couldn’t eat whatever she wanted? The smells on the way to the leather-smith had been too good to resist, and she was crazed for the pistachio croissants with the bergamot filling that the bakery beside Rita’s had this time of year.

She quietly snuck the front door open, hoping to slip in quietly and unnoticed by her houseguests. Mor, draped in her normal gorgeous finery, strode through the foyer, lifting a brow that surely must be genetic, and before tipping her head back to laugh at Feyre.

“You’re just as bad as Rhys, you know? I saw him coming back not twenty minutes ago.”

Rhys, that weasel.

Feyre wondered what he’d been off plundering after amusedly lecturing her this morning about sneaking out last minute for more presents. She ran the bags upstairs, ditched her coat, and wrapped the leathers quickly in the celebratory packaging she’d picked up last month in their guest bedroom before scurrying back down the stairs. She’d arrived just in time, everyone present in the sitting room as Nuala and Cerridwen announced the dinner was ready. Luckily, she’d had the foresight to prepare before going to grab the gifts, her long midnight-blue dress swaying luxuriously around her feet, the gossamer sleeves like a soft embrace along her arms. She’d definitely gotten used to wearing pretty clothes in the time she’d spent in Velaris, though most days, she still dressed for comfort. She’d left her hair down and lightly curled, compulsively tucking a strand behind her ear as she entered the dining room. Elain had helped prepare the Solstice meal and cake, as she insisted she do every year, and Feyre had to admit it all looked mouthwatering, as always.

Rhys pulled her seat out for her as she walked up, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head as he pushed her in.

“Last minute shopping go well?” He murmured against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and goosebumps down her arms. He knew it, too, and she turned to scrunch her nose at him as he laughed.

“I hear you’re one to talk, hypocrite.” He held his hand to his chest feigning offense, then sent her an absolutely world-shattering smile as he moved to take his place.

A crash in the hall sent Feyre’s eyes to the doors, followed by Nesta’s bellowing.

“Hey! Wings closed indoors! You know the rules.” Giggles abound as Nyx and Aife came into the room, leaning into each other and cackling as they took their seats. They were only two years apart and thick as thieves. Though Nesta and Feyre would never admit it aloud, seeing their children close as they’d never had the opportunity to be as children had healed something between the two of them that had once felt depthless.

Nyx pushed midnight-black hair from his eyes as he looked to Feyre.

“Mom, can we go play with our presents after we open them tonight? I promise I’ll go straight to bed after.”

“I don’t see why not. Nesta, are you all staying the night tonight?” Nesta looked to Cassian and nodded.

“I think so. Aife and Nyx are going to be here all day tomorrow anyway during the snowball fight. We might as well.” She gave a pointed look to Cassian, who grinned wolfishly. Feyre could hear Aife whispering to Nyx.

“Who’s going to win this year?”

“Uncle Az. It’s always Uncle Az. He says our dads are old now.” They both giggled and Feyre cracked a smile, shooting the conversation down the bond to Rhys, whose eyebrows lifted as he shot her an amused smile as if to say we’ll see.

They tucked into the great feast, a large roast the centerpiece, surrounded by offerings of ham and turkey and too many sides to reasonably name. Feyre loaded her plate with the most buttery mashed potatoes she’d ever tasted, one of Elain’s specialities that Feyre always requested for special occasions, as well as a basil and tomato tart, baked to crisp perfection by Nuala.

She remembered a time when she’d hated her birthday, and while she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with all the attention, she surely would celebrate now if only for the delicious foods she got to have. She couldn’t beat the company either, her blood and chosen family all seated around the table, laughing and loving and enjoying themselves in her home. A decade ago, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who’d tried to describe this possibility, and it wasn’t lost on her how much luck and fate had stepped in to make things as they were.

++

Stuffed to the brim and with the gift exchange behind them, Feyre slumped onto the couch. The kids had been spoiled beyond reason, the piles of gifts higher than the chairs surrounding them.

Nyx and Aife had begged Az, Cass, and Lucien to bring them outside to practice with the new bow and arrow sets, courtesy of Elain and Lucien’s recent trip to the Day Court. As the official “Uncle Troupe”, as they’d so ridiculously named themselves, they felt it would have been in poor taste to decline. Feyre pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head back. It had been a busy few months, though things were finally, blessedly beginning to smooth out. They’d been able to delegate a bit more recently, and it certainly helped their workload.

Elain had gone back to the kitchens to help clean up and exchange gifts with the twins before they took off for the evening, leaving Feyre to relax for a bit while Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor sat at the table with sweets and coffees chatting. Amren and Varian had skipped the party this year in favor of a trip to Summer, as they now alternated holidays between courts. While she’d never taunt Amren to her face about it, Feyre secretly loved how domesticated she’d become in the time she’d known her, settling down while still claiming that ancient power hummed through her veins.

She felt Rhys sit down by her feet, his presence always noted by her magic immediately twining with his. At any given time, she could feel where he was, the power soaring back and forth between them like a current. The depth of love between them was fathomless and deep, and she’d never quite get over the fact that she had him all to herself, hers and hers alone, for the rest of her life.

He picked her feet up in his hands, shuffling them over to his lap and giving them a squeeze.

“Tired, darling?” His voice was a low rumble as he leaned against the back of the couch, settling in.

“Exhausted. I love the holidays, but I would also love a solid two days of sleep.” He laughed, his smile lighting up the room as she lifted her head to peek at him. “Did you enjoy your Solstice gifts?”

She’d bought him a device she’d found at one of the shops in Day Court on a summer visit to Elain and Lucien months ago. Duty had them back and forth between courts now, and Feyre couldn’t deny the love she had for any excuse to get to the shimmering beaches of Day. She’d found it nestled in the back of a tinkerer’s store–a handheld device that rolled over clothes, enchanted to remain sticky, and pulled any lint or fuzz from them.

“It’s only my favorite thing I’ve ever owned,” Rhys quipped immediately. She laughed, closing her eyes again and poking him in the side with her toe. He gripped it in his hands and threatened to tickle her. “How about you, love? Get everything you wanted?” Feyre paused, but didn’t open her eyes. She should say yes. She should feel like she had everything she wanted, but there was just one thing missing, and unfortunately it was something she couldn’t have.

“Hey lovebirds, we’re heading out!” Mor called across the room, her arm around Emerie’s.

Feyre sat up to say goodbye. “So early?”

Mor chuckled and Emerie elbowed her in the ribs. “Solstice plans of our own,” Mor said, waggling her brows at Rhys and giggling as he rubbed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Alright, then.” He slapped his palms on his thighs, laughing and ending the conversation as Emerie blushed about ten shades of red, still not quite used to the way this family spoke so openly about things. Feyre stood to hug them both.

“We’re so glad you came. Feel free to drop in any time tomorrow. We’ll be here all day.”

Gwyn and Nesta had gone to join their mates and the children out on the illuminated training ring in the yard, leaving Feyre to slip back down onto the couch, this time scooting closer to Rhys and leaning her body against his. He was always so warm and solid, her touchstone in times both trying and lovely. He always smelled like oranges and the sea–the smell of Velaris, of home, tied intrinsically with his. She nuzzled closer, his arm finding its way around her waist as he settled too.

“Everything okay, darling?”

She hummed noncommittally. She hated that even with all this joy, all these gifts, all this family, she still couldn't shake the thought that something was missing, incomplete.

“Can you believe this is Nyx’s sixth Solstice?” She felt Rhys soften beneath her, realization creeping down the bond from his end, followed by a burst of soothing love and affection.

“He's incredible, isn't he? What are we going to do when he learns how to use that bow accurately?” She laughed.

“Truly, it's the inaccurate use I'm more worried about.” His breath ghosted her ear as he chuckled, sending those light shivers scurrying back along her spine.

Things got quiet, then. She knew it would take very little for Rhys to understand what she was thinking, if he didn't already intrinsically know. Even without the bond, even without the daemati powers, there was really a moment he wasn't able to read her like a wide open book.

“He's so big now…” she let her voice drift off, trying to hide the hurt in it and failing miserably. As always Rhys filled in the gaps.

“He’s wonderful. We made a really wonderful child, Feyre. He’s everything I never even dared to hope for for myself. I never thought such joy was possible for someone like me. You know that he’s the greatest gift you ever could have given me, right?” She felt the tears burning behind her eyes, and she took in a deep breath as she felt him press a kiss to her temple.

“I know.” Her voice was just a wobbly whisper, quiet in the room.

“And if he’s the only one we ever have, it’s more than enough for me. I need to know you know that, Feyre.” She nodded furiously, the big tears slipping down her cheeks now, burning hot tracks as they descended.

“I can’t even explain it. It just feels like someone else should be here.” He pulled her tightly against him, resting his chin on her shoulder and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“And maybe, someday, they will be. But if the three of us are all we ever have, it’s more than enough. It’s everything to me.” She couldn’t hold back the sobs then, turning to bury her face in his chest as she cried.

It had been two years since they’d decided things had evened out enough that another child was even an option for them. They’d been casual about it at first, enjoying themselves and giggling in the dark under covers as they talked about the possibilities of the future. She missed Nyx’s tufts of baby curls, that new infant smell that seemed to cling to him always then faded abruptly away after he hit one year. She missed the snuggles and the closeness, and her heart ached to watch how wonderful he was with his cousin without knowing if she’d ever be able to give him that gift as a big brother.

Realistically, she knew all the logic. It could take fae decades to have a child. It wasn’t always going to be as quick as it had been with Nyx. He’d come quickly, but the consequences, as everyone remembered, had been disastrous and near-fatal. She’d never even considered the possibility of it being a problem again when Nesta informed her she’d changed their anatomy, but she’d never considered that she might be the one having the problem. Part of her wondered if the absolute massacre of her body bringing Nyx into the world was responsible–her tissue mangled and her blood spilt and her spirit eking into the ether, only to be yanked back and mended together at the last possible second. Could it have damaged her irreparably, the anatomy be damned?

“Nothing is your fault, love. Not one bit of it.” He held her to his chest as her cries subsided. “And it’s okay to be upset about this. You don’t have to hold everything in all the time. There are no prizes for stoicism.” She snorted at him, and he huffed amusedly at her.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she shot back wetly. He smiled softly as she sat back to look at him, a little of the life returning to her as well.

“You’re a lovely mother, and our boy thinks you’ve hung the stars and moon above Velaris, even if he is getting old enough to wield a weapon. A little sibling won’t ever change that. Plus, I get the impression Aife isn’t going to be his only cousin.” She sighed, nodding, as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s just hard not to feel like I’ve done something wrong. I know how badly you want another, how badly I do. It’s hard not to wonder.” He took his hands in hers.

“I meant it when I told you that you and Nyx, you are the gifts. Our family is absolutely lovely the way it is now. If we’re meant to grow it one day, we will, and if we aren’t, believe me when I tell you I am absolutely over the moon for the way things are now.” She couldn’t help but kiss him then, the stars reflecting in his violet eyes taking her breath away, as they always did. “Plus, I never mind practicing with you.” She smacked him across the chest as he grinned broadly and wickedly at her, hauling her into his lap in response as she yelped.

If anything, Rhys knew how to chase away her tears better than anyone else ever had or would.

Just then, the parlor doors opened and Elain stepped through.

“Oh, just the two I was looking for! I’ve got one last gift for you both, but I wanted to wait until the right moment.” She ducked back through the doors momentarily, reappearing with a small, neatly wrapped parcel as they stood. She flounced lightly up to them, setting the little bundle wrapped in delicate yellow paper in Rhys’s hands.

“Elain, you didn’t need to get us anything else. You already gave us such lovely gifts and you made dinner.” Elain blushed, still the demure lady after all this time.

“Consider it a double gift.” She whispered as she leaned in conspiratorially. Rhys pulled back the paper and pulled out the tiniest, knitted pink blanket.

One beat, two. The silence hung in the room as Elain smiled wide.

“I just saw last week, but I wanted to make you something to let you know in a way that was special.”

Feyre’s hands shot to her stomach, and Rhys began to cry, turning to her and holding her close while still looking at Elain.

“Now?” Feyre asked, incredulously.

“Probably only about a month along.” Elain smiled again. “I knew with the wings and everything last time, you’d want to get in to see Madja as early as possible.”

Feyre was sobbing into Rhys’s chest again, his tears dripping down into her hair. Feyre felt him reach out to Elain and pull her into the embrace.

“Thank you, Elain. Thank you so much.” She pulled back, laughing lightly again.

“I’ll leave you both to it then. I gotta get little lady’s cousin and uncle home safely.” She put a hand to her own stomach, winked, and went towards the back to grab Lucien before Feyre and Rhys could even register her news. He grabbed her face in his hands, pressing kisses to every inch of her face.

“I love you, more than anything.” Feyre laughed, the sound breathless and airy. She couldn’t take her hands off her stomach, the joy pulsing through her veins with every beat of her heart.

A daughter.

“I have one more gift for you, too, actually.” He reached into his back pocket to withdraw a small, navy velvet box, pressing it gently into her hands.

Her eyes shot to his. “You didn’t need to get me something else.”

“Open it.” His smile was wide open, his entire heart spelled across his face like stars across the night sky.

Feyre cracked open the box and couldn’t help the flood of tears that began anew. Nestled in the soft velvet was a silver necklace, a charm of a large crescent moon with two small stars dangling down off of it.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.” He smiled. “You’ve been getting those pistachio pastries all week that you liked so much last time. I figured it couldn’t hurt to be prepared with one more last minute gift.” She took it out, turning to let him put it on her. He let his hands graze across her neck as he dropped them while she turned in his arms.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Rhys. I love it. It’s been the best Solstice ever.” Her smile was broad and teary, but she felt the joy all the way down to the very fibers of her immortal heart.

“Thank you, Feyre. For all of it.”

And nothing in all of Velaris could hold a candle to the joy radiating back and forth down the bond between them in that moment as their lips met quietly again this Solstice.

[allthingsscented]

Semi Annual Sale Haul!

Here are my first impressions/reviews:

Fresh Amalfi Lemon 🍋

I love this, it's a sweet lemon and I love the herbal notes the spearmint brings.

Fruity Sherbet Scoop 🍧

I had this in the body wash last year and loved it so much I had to get the whole line. It's fruity (obviously) but the sweet treat vibe of it is nostalgic to me somehow!

Wild Madagascar Vanilla 🍨

This one is somewhat of a scooby doo mystery (a la Queen of the Girl Geeks, thank you Bonnie for the perfect phrasing) to me. My mom had this in the fine fragrance mist years ago and I hated it! But the cream is amazing!? I love how creamy it smells and the floral and pear round it out well.

Main Street Bakery 🍌

Ok, I walked in to SAS saying I would buy 1 candle. I am running out of storage space in my current apartment and wanted to hold off until moving on acquiring any more. But when I picked this one up I knew I was breaking my own rule! It smells like an amazing banana pudding confectionary bakery blend. SO GOOD!

Apple 🍏

See prior reviews, I decided I needed back up FFM and a shower gel.

Vacation Vibe ⛵️

One of the few I bought that weren't on sale: I love this! It's a wonderful pistachio and amber coming through for me. Perfect for summer!

Love Always Wins: Vibrant Citrus & Sage 🌈

I think this is the best pride scent yet. It's deep and woodsy yet brightened by the citrus!

Water Lily Springs 🪷

This scent is an aquatic fresh floral. I loved it so much in the shower gel I wanted to pick up a FFM.

Very Berry Crisp 🫐

I put this straight out to use once I bought it. Smells just like berry cobbler!

Springtime in Paris 🍑

I love this scent. The light floral and peach makes it perfect for spring. What really sold me was the birds on the jar. They remind me of something my grandma would've loved 🦜

Wallflowers

I don't have many reviews yet for these but I can say the Almond Croissant is 1) AMAZING 2) STRONG!! and 3) true to its name!

[shadowdaddies]

Hello beautiful, I love your blog and your stories help me continue living with these characters. An idea, Elain has mate but they haven't done anything important, one night she wants more.

smut + lingerie + roses??? 🩷

EEP I love this request🥰 this is so sweet and romantic and I love it

Blush

Elain x Reader

Warnings: fluffy smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, minors dni

The mating bond clicked for you nearly a week after meeting Elain. It was easy to fall in love with her kind, gentle nature, as natural as the fall of a soft Spring rain. The bond snapped for you, however, shortly after your friendship began. Elain had invited you to Rita’s with her and her family, the two of you having an incredible night until a female came up to you, unprovoked, and spilled wine on your dress, muttering an insult about you under her breath. You couldn’t hear what she said, but it was enough for Elain to grab the female by her arm - a look of anger that you didn’t realize possible for someone so sweet taking over her features - and demand that she apologize to you. 

The moment Elain turned back towards you, you saw something in her eyes you’d never seen before, and the bond snapped like a lightning strike. You ran outside onto the street, trying to catch your breath as you tried to grasp what had just happened, panicking over the thought of losing your new friend, when Elain approached you cautiously. “It snapped for you too, huh?” she whispered, and you turned to her. 

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face. “For me too? Elain, you knew about the bond?” She nodded shyly, wringing her hands in a show of her nerves. “The bond snapped the moment I saw you exiting the bakery that day. I wanted - needed, to know you, but I wanted you to be able to choose for yourself how you felt about me without the pressure of the bond.” 

Your eyes welled with tears, unable to comprehend how the cauldron could bless you with this kind, thoughtful, protective female as your mate. The two of you went back to your apartment, staying up the rest of the night talking, getting to know each other and discussing the bond. You both decided that it was best to take the time to get to know each other further before moving forward with the bond, and that was the start of your relationship with Elain.

~~~

Months had passed, and you were head over heels for each other. The two of you were inseparable, spending nearly every day together as you practically became a member of the family. You knew you were ready to accept the bond on your end, but much like how Elain wouldn’t pressure you to recognize the bond, you would not pressure her to accept it. 

Instead, you worked with Rhys to plan a romantic night away at the Moonstone Palace - you would cook for a change, light candles, and decorate with flower petals. The two of you hadn’t been physically intimate yet - your intention was simply to make Elain feel as special as she made you feel. 

When you arrived to the palace to decorate and start preparing for the evening, only to find candles, flower petals, and gauzy curtains draped everywhere. It was breathtaking, and before your mind could register what was happening, Elain floated around the corner looking like a goddess in a sheer blush dress that left little to the imagination.

She gave you her signature shy smile, but the coquettish gleam in her eyes made your stomach flutter. Looking around at the decorations, Elain explained, “Feyre helped me orchestrate all of this for us. We have the place to ourselves for the night.” You let out a soft laugh - of course Rhys and Feyre would have been scheming together. 

Walking over to Elain, you greeted her with a soft kiss, wrapping your arms around her waist as you took the moment to just hold her. You took in a deep breath, her scent of jasmine and honey like a soothing balm to your senses. Elain leaned back, taking your hands in hers as she toyed with your fingers. “I have a surprise, if you’ll follow me,” she whispered as she took your hand, leading you to a large sitting room. 

One wall was entirely open to the snow-covered mountains, the view only partially obstructed by the pink gauzy curtains draped throughout the room, twinkling fae lights illuminating the space to glow golden pink, and red tones. Pink and red flower petals scattered the floor with the exception of the center of the room, where a low-standing table was surrounded by lush patterned cushions. On the table was a bottle of sparkling wine, along with an assortment of chocolate covered strawberries and sweet cream. 

Elain looked at you, love filling her eyes as she fidgeted with her hands, bringing you back to the memory of that night when you first learned of your bond. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, you admired her beautiful brown eyes, whispering, “this is so beautiful. I wanted to surprise you with a special night, but of course you would think of something even more incredible. I love you, Elain.”

Elain’s eyes filled with unshed tears as she smiled at you, laughing softly as the two of you felt each other’s joy through the bond. “I love you, too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss you with more fervor than ever before. She walked you backwards towards a pile of cushions, the two of you laying down on them as you continued to explore the feel of each other. You ran your hand up her waist, rubbing soft circles below her breast as she softly moaned. It was a magical sound, one that you felt as though you could live off of, never needing anything else as long as you existed.

You rolled on top of Elain, running your hand through her long hair as she gave you that coquettish grin that had your core pulsing with need. She batted her doe eyes at you, hands toying with the straps of her dress as she teased, “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but I do have a new purchase under this dress that I’ve been longing to show you.” 

Your face flushed, barely able to form a coherent thought as you nodded, gasping out a “yes, please,” as you watched, entranced by Elain. She sat up slightly, slowly slipping off each strap of her dress before turning around and kneeling with her back to you, gesturing for you to undo the laces on the back of her dress. You obeyed, watching as the garment fell, exposing Elain’s stunning form. She stood, kicking the fabric of the dress to the side as she showed her new lingerie - a blush strappy teddy with iridescent floral patterns, chiffon ruffles above her behind that accentuated her figure flawlessly. 

You found yourself emotional once more at her beauty, this ethereal being who had graced you with not only her presence in your life, but her love. You reached up, hands eager to feel her, worship her, but she pulled them away. Elain smirked at you as she shook her head. “I would like first honors,” she spoke in a low, sultry voice as she tilted her head towards you, gesturing for you to lay back. 

You blindly obeyed, eyes glued to Elain as she strode over to you, kneeling between your legs as she softly traced her nails up your thighs. She took her time, memorizing each inch of your body as she lifted your top, kissing the exposed skin as she went. Elain moaned softly as she found that you weren’t wearing a bra, losing her patience as she lifted your shirt the rest of the way off. Giving a teasing lick to one nipple, she massaged the other breast, occasionally running a teasing finger across the increasingly sensitive bud. You were mewling, arching into her in a silent plea for more contact. Elain obliged, sucking and gently tugging on your nipple before switching her actions to your other breast.

You threaded your hands in her hair, rolling your hips against her as you moaned her name repeatedly. Elain laughed against your stomach as she slid down your body, stripping you of the rest of your clothing as she went. She paused at your hip bones, pinning them down with surprising strength as she sucked dark marks on each of them before moving to place a kiss just above your clit, the word “mine,” a whisper and a promise on her lips.

Elain held your legs open, one arm pinning them down as she pushed two fingers into your mouth. You sucked instinctively, swirling your tongue around them, Elain cooing, “good girl,” before latching onto your clit without warning. She sucked the bud hard, tongue swirling wildly as her fingers muffled your moans. Your eyes were rolling back, already nearing your climax when Elain withdrew her fingers, pumping them into you without warning. 

You let out a silent scream, back arching as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. Elain curled her fingers against your walls as she licked and sucked your clit, and you quickly went over the edge, chanting her name like a prayer as she worked you through your orgasm. 

You came down, vision coming back into focus to see Elain above you, licking her fingers as the fae lights cast her in an angelic glow. Your heart leapt with adoration as you pulled her down to kiss you. You pulled back with a smirk, murmuring, “my turn,” as you flipped Elain onto her back, straddling her hips as you took your time admiring her in all her beauty and her lingerie, eyeing the sweet cream on the table as you planned your next move.

[samkat10423]

More Community Lots

So, here are a couple more community lots in town.

This one is across the street from the school. It's where the business lot is in the modern version of this town.

It's an old lot from Parsimonious Sims called the Ruby Rooms, and is zoned as an exclusive lounge. I did do some relandscaping on the outside, but nothing much. Mostly got rid of a lot of redundant hedges that came with the original and added the trees out front. I wanted to keep it pretty simple.

This is the ground floor. In the one room on the left, sims can get married. I think the original creator had a major Twilight thing going on in her life at the time, because she went nuts with the candles. I did change out the chandeliers in the lobby and added a pool table in the lounge area on the right.

The second floor is the banquet area. I upgraded all the tables - giving them actual tablecloths because you'd expect that in a classy place. I also gave them a dance floor instead of leaving that open area between the 2 buffet tables blank. Plus I got rid of all the ceiling lights she had. Mostly because this is a 2-story room and ceiling lights hanging from a non-existent ceiling makes no sense to me. I used those invisible lights from buydebug instead.

And on the top floor, I used those store gambling sets, along with @mspoodle1's poker tables, to create a small casino area for my sims to lose all their simoleons. The left side she had made into a huge bathroom - that I left. I got rid of some stuff, but basically left it alone.

Then across the street is the Baker Street Bakery. I got this lot from the Magic Kingdom world. The original lot ended with that light blue build, so I added that extra build on the end for the town spa - because I needed to stick it somewhere and I had the space here.

This is the ground floor. I think all I did here was change the floor tile.

And this is the 2nd floor. I changed all of this floor, adding those tea-set tables and adding that small lounge area for the dudes. Plus the bathrooms. I think in the original, they had made this into a kitchen, but there was lots of room on the first floor for the bakery kitchen stuff, so that's where I put it. As for the spa, it just has the rabbithole rug in it, because I got lazy.

[konigsprinzessin]

donnerkeil. part two, yandere!könig x reader

likes, comments, follows ect are all greatly appreciated! 

the first time he laid his eyes on you, his once cold heart began to pound a little faster. his social anxiety seemingly leaving his body behind. you were entering the market, your beautiful hair bounced against the morning golden sun. you walked over to one of the vendors as könig walked behind you, picking up on your accent and otherwise poor german skills. clearly, you weren't a native speaker from around here. he knew that he needed to act fast, who knows when you’d be leaving to go back to your home country. 

from his peripheral vision and occasional inconspicuous glances he would briefly watch you study the candles you picked up and examined. he couldn’t tell what the first one was, second was lemongrass and the last one was lavender. you took a liking to that one as you paid the fare and placed the candle in the basket you held. 

könig played with the honey jar he held whilst mindlessly listening to the vendor explain the fine details in the ingredients contained in the honey, trying her hardest to scrape a few euros out of him. he placed the jar down and picked up a bigger one with a pink gingham ribbon around it, similar to the one in your basket. 

you moved one vendor down. only one away from könig. his heart was racing. how perfect this was. all you needed to do was move down one vendor and he could strike a conversation up with you.

 a natural conversation of course. 

not a conversation he was replaying in his head. 

you picked through a collection of soaps and flowers making careful purchases with each. 

until you say your goodbyes to the seller and moved. you walked to the vendor on the opposite side of the gravel road. you were behind him on the other side of the street. 

he missed his opportunity. quickly, könig said his thank yous and put the honey back in its respective place it was in before. the vendor you were stood at was a vendor from a small family run bakery. he liked their baked goods and he knew the person at the table.

fuck it. 

he walked over to an open spot to stand beside you. he gave you a greeting in german with a smile painted across his lips now fully being able to see your face and your perfect features. he would kill everyone within a mile just to hug you for mere seconds. you returned the greeting with a meek wave, filled with nervousness. in your hands was a topfenstrudel wrapped in a plastic sheet held together with a black zip tie. könig made a positive comment on how lovley the pastry was (especially when warm) nodding towards the boy running the booth. that comment alone convinced you enough to purchase it. 

“ihr sachertorte ist auch gut” he paused before speaking again, “magst du sachertorte? he smiled, picking up a container with the famous austrian pastry placed inside. 

you hummed in confusion with a puzzled look on your face. “was ist sachertorte?” and his suspicion was right. how could you not know? foreigner. 

“it’s a chocolate cake. native to austria.” chuckling, he gave the seller the requested amount of euros for cake. “you’re not from here, huh?” he placed the cake in a bag given to him then turning to you. “perhaps i can show you around more...later on”.

[ghoulyghoulsblog]

The Solace of Winter

Bucky Barnes had always found solace in the quiet of winter. The world seemed to hold its breath, muffling the noise of his chaotic mind. The snow-covered streets of Brooklyn, now largely unrecognizable from the ones he once knew, still brought a semblance of peace. The old brownstone he lived in was a far cry from the lavish apartments of Stark Tower, but it felt more like home than anywhere else.

It was a crisp evening, the first heavy snowfall of the season draping the city in a blanket of white. Bucky had just finished his morning run, his breath visible in the cold air, when he saw her for the first time. She was standing outside the small, local bakery, fumbling with an oversized scarf. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes bright with laughter as she struggled to balance a large bag of pastries and a coffee cup.

"Need a hand?" Bucky found himself asking before he could think better of it.

She looked up, startled, and he was struck by the warmth in her gaze. "Oh, thank you! Yes, please," she replied, her smile genuine and kind.

"I'm Bucky," he said, taking the bag from her.

"Y/N," she introduced herself. "I run the bookstore down the street. Figured I'd treat myself to some fresh pastries before opening up."

"Bookstore?" Bucky's interest was piqued. "I didn't know there was one nearby."

"Yep, it's just around the corner. You should stop by sometime. We have a great selection, and I can always use another pair of hands to help me with deliveries."

He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Over the next few weeks, Bucky found himself stopping by Y/N's bookstore more and more often. The quaint shop was a haven of warmth and quiet, filled with the comforting scent of old books and the faint hint of vanilla from the candles she kept lit. They talked about everything and nothing, finding a surprising ease in each other’s company.

One particularly snowy evening, Y/N closed the shop early due to the weather. She invited Bucky over for dinner, promising homemade chili and freshly baked bread.

"Are you sure? I don’t want to impose," Bucky hesitated, though the idea of spending more time with her was undeniably appealing.

"Absolutely sure," she insisted, her eyes twinkling. "I’ve made way too much chili for just myself. Besides, it’s nice to have company."

Her apartment was cozy and inviting, filled with books and soft lighting. They ate at her small kitchen table, sharing stories and laughter. Bucky found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t in years, the walls he’d built around his heart slowly crumbling under her gentle presence.

As the evening drew to a close, Y/N walked him to the door. "Thank you for tonight, Bucky. It was… really nice."

"Yeah, it was," he agreed, lingering in the doorway. "We should do it again sometime."

She smiled. "I’d like that."

Winter melted into spring, and their friendship blossomed into something deeper. Bucky found himself falling for her kindness, her strength, her unwavering support. Y/N saw through the broken soldier to the man underneath, never once flinching from the shadows of his past.

One quiet evening, as they sat on her couch reading, Bucky took her hand in his. "Y/N," he began, his voice soft and tentative, "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but… thank you. For everything."

She squeezed his hand, her eyes meeting his with a warmth that chased away the last of his doubts. "You don’t have to deserve me, Bucky. We deserve each other."

And as he kissed her, slow and tender, Bucky finally understood what it meant to find solace—not in the quiet of winter, but in the love of a kindred spirit.