#happy birthday leafy!

[previously-justindi]

ITS HER BIRTHDAY TODAYYY!!! give her a reblog to celebrate!!/nf

REBLOGS AND REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!!!

[applesaucify]

OOOOOH so it’s faygo’s birthday, huh??? well i have a slice of cake just for HIM!—

SIKE!!!!!!1!!1! GET CAKED LOSER!!!1!1!

[lemonadepinksstuff]

🍃🔥Leafy and Firey try out the Grimace Shake!! They love it! 🍃🔥 . . .

[recordum]

[camellia-salazar]

Birthday Comic #2

Birthday party for Leafy and Teardrop!

[tomboyvampire23]

Happy (Late) Birthday to Kotoko Utsugi again!!

(The art looks rushed though)

[pansylair]

Celebrating my 28th birthday with my lovey boyfriend and wonderful friends! So happy to have a little bf-vacation and have everyone over for a visit :)

id: A traditional ballpoint pen drawing with a black background, simply stylized with warm hues and muted colours. A dog holds a long, leafy plant stem in its mouth, peering up towards the sky and sun. To its right, a house sits in the distance. Flowering plants frame the sun and create a square border around the illustration. Text to the top left in all upper case reads “WARM FEELINGS AMONG THE GREEN” In an attached panel below its feet sits three stars.

[defilerwyrm]

Guess who's 12 today!!

Jimmy the Foster Monster was born feral on or around August 28, 2012. I found him as a poor, starving, orphaned bean barely 3 weeks later, and we've been together ever since. He has defied the odds again and again to live a long, full, love-filled life indoors and become a creaky, cuddly little old man—and gods willing he's got plenty more life to live.

In lieu of cake, Jimmy got a special treat of apple pastry (he's always been mad for apples). He also got small amounts of homemade venison sausage, Manchego cheese, and organic lettuces (he LOVES leafy greens)!

Happy birthday, Jimmy! 🖤🎂🥳

[feelinmatcha]

❛ 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ❜

DESCRIPTION: you don't want to celebrate your birthday, but perhaps your friend(?) will change that NOTE: reader is implied to be an older sister. angst to fluff. age mention?? but you can easily take it out!! CHARACTER(S): modern! sanji & zoro 🎵: the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody

You wished you could care more about it. Truly. But birthdays stopped being special a long time ago. And now they felt like something you'd outgrown, like a shirt that once fit and no longer did.

When Nami asked about it over breakfast, her voice so casual as she asked when you'd be celebrating, it was like the entire room froze around you. The others were watching, forks paused mid-air, and you felt yourself retreat inward, pulling your arms around yourself as if you could make yourself disappear. "It doesn’t matter," you mumbled, but you could feel the weight of their stares even after you said it.

You tried to remember when you stopped caring, tried to pinpoint the exact year birthdays turned hollow. Maybe it was the year your parents stopped lighting candles and making cakes, reserving that fuss for your younger siblings, who still had reason to smile as they counted the candles. Or maybe it was the year your stepsister—just a few months older—received a thoughtful gift and the whole family gathered around her, while you spent the better part of your own day staring at the phone, waiting for your mom to call. She finally did, hours later, voice muffled by kitchen sounds, explaining that she’d been busy with pastry orders and barely managed a quick “Happy Birthday.”

And you wanted to be okay with it. You really did. You told yourself she was doing her best, that she had her own life, her own dreams, that maybe it was selfish to want more.

But later that night, alone in your room, you finally picked up the phone and left her a voicemail, your voice thick and breaking. “Hey, Mom. I tried calling you earlier. Guess you’re busy right now. Just wanted to tell you… remember that test I was stressing about? I got an eighty-one. Not perfect, but it’s something.”

You stared at the screen for a long time after hanging up, waiting for the pang to settle. Twenty-one years old, but somehow you felt twice that. You wondered if birthdays would feel different if you’d already moved out, if you had your own house, your own kids. Maybe then she’d remember, maybe then she’d care.

The ache returned, and you swiped the back of your hand across your eyes, furious at yourself. Why couldn’t you be stronger? Why couldn’t you stop hoping?

Eventually, another year came around, and with it, the dreaded day. You were thankful Nami hadn’t brought it up again, not since that morning at breakfast. She must’ve seen the look in your eyes, the way your voice cracked just enough when you’d admitted you didn’t take pleasure in celebrating it anymore. She hadn’t pushed, and for that, you were grateful. For that, you felt a little less alone.

roronoa zoro

The kitchen lights buzzed to life, casting a warm glow over the counters stacked with groceries. A couple of tomatoes, three fresh baguettes, too many leafy greens for one person—all evidence of Sanji’s over-the-top attempt to “share” his food with Nami. You could almost hear him explaining it to her, claiming he’d bought too much for the week. But you knew better. You knew he’d counted on her taking it, on feeding her like she wouldn’t feed herself, and the thought made you grin, sifting through the bags with a growing smile.

“Eggplant, garlic, rosemary,” you muttered, almost impressed by how thoughtful it all was. Everything was fresh, carefully chosen, perfect for the recipes he’d probably rattled off to Nami before he left. But still, the faint lingering scent of his cologne—the one he seemed to think was charming but always hit your nose like a cloud of spiced ash—hung in the air.

You set a bottle of olive oil on the counter, catching your reflection in the glass. There was something about today, the weight of it pressing a little harder as you remembered it was your birthday. You hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t wanted to, but it felt like the knowledge was there, lurking, like a reminder you were determined to ignore.

The door down the hall creaked open, followed by the soft thud of it closing and heavy footsteps coming closer. Zoro’s voice rang out, gruff and tinged with irritation, “I can smell Sanji’s disgusting perfume. Did he come here?”

Flipping on the kitchen light, you turned and stifled a grin as Zoro appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, his nose wrinkled in mock disgust. He looked every bit the part of the annoyed rival, his hair damp from training, shirt rumpled as he leaned against the frame, eyeing the bags on the counter with open disdain.

“Yeah, he was just here,” you said, glancing up as Zoro stepped into the light, his nose crinkling in mock disgust. “But I think he left enough rosemary in here to mask the smell. Unless you’re that sensitive?”

“Sensitive?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. “It’s just hard to breathe when that walking cologne cloud’s been around. How many tomatoes does he think Nami needs, anyway?”

You shrugged, picking up one of the tomatoes and tossing it his way. He caught it with a smirk. “Sanji just wants to make sure she's fed.”

“Please,” Zoro snorted, turning the tomato over in his hands before placing it back on the counter. “Does he really think Nami can’t feed herself? Or did he just want an excuse to show off?”

“You know him. Probably both,” you said, leaning back against the counter, a smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. Zoro’s presence filled the room in a way you couldn’t quite explain—steady, calm, a quiet sort of reassurance that reminded you there was no need to feel alone.

You found yourself letting out a sigh, the kind that comes when you’ve been carrying a weight around for too long. Zoro’s gaze flickered over you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Something wrong?”

For a second, you thought about brushing it off. But the way Zoro looked at you—sharp but somehow softened by a quiet understanding—made it hard to lie. It was as if he could see through any mask you tried to put on.

“Just… thinking,” you murmured, glancing down at the bags Sanji had left behind. “Birthdays, you know? Nami brought it up the other year, and it kind of stirred things up.”

Zoro’s face shifted, his usual hardness melting away as he took you in, tilting his head a little. “Didn’t know it was your birthday,” he said quietly, his voice steady, free of pity or fuss.

“It wasn't... it's today, actually,” you admitted, the words feeling heavier than you’d expected. “It's fine, I just… stopped celebrating it a while back.”

He didn’t press, but his gaze was unwavering, his arms still folded as he leaned a little closer, his posture saying he was there, that he was listening.

“Why did you stop?” he asked finally, his tone calm, as if he were inviting you to share without any pressure.

You took a slow breath, the ache you’d been holding onto all day surfacing. “I guess… it just stopped feeling like my day,” you said, each word weighing you down a little more. “It was always about someone else, something else. Eventually, it felt easier to just… ignore it. Less disappointment that way.”

He didn’t break eye contact, his expression unreadable yet somehow gentle, as if he were waiting for you to finish, giving you room to feel everything out loud.

“Makes sense,” he said after a beat, his tone soft, thoughtful. “But… maybe you’re looking at it wrong.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the insight. “Oh yeah? How so?”

He shrugged, his gaze drifting briefly over the countertop before coming back to yours. “Maybe birthdays don’t have to be about other people making it special. Could just be about you doing something you actually want to do. Doesn’t have to be a party or some grand gesture. Could be as simple as sitting around eating these tomatoes if that’s what makes you happy.”

The simplicity of it caught you off guard. You’d thought of birthdays as a day that had to mean something because other people made it that way. But maybe Zoro was right. Maybe the day didn’t have to be a spectacle; maybe it could be quiet, even small, and still feel like yours.

“Maybe…” you murmured, feeling a small, tentative smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe today I’ll just take it easy, let myself have that. Not stress about what it’s supposed to be.”

Zoro’s lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile. “That’s the spirit.”

You both stood in comfortable silence, his steady presence taking up space in a way that felt grounding, safe. He glanced down at the bags Sanji had left, his smirk returning as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Now, let’s figure out what to make out of Sanji’s mountain of produce before it goes to waste. Who knows—could end up being the best ‘birthday dinner’ you’ve had in years,” he added with a teasing grin.

You laughed, the sound soft and light. And as you started unpacking the groceries, working side by side with Zoro, the day felt different, lighter. No big party, no expectations—just a quiet moment, one you could claim as your own.

black leg sanji

Sanji had been over at your apartment last night, like he often was on weekends. He’d practically taken over the kitchen, turning the small space into his own personal cooking studio, filling it with warmth and the scent of roasted herbs and spices. It was cozy, cramped, and packed with the kind of laughter that spilled out of the windows and into the autumn air outside. He’d left around midnight, making his usual theatrical exit, waving his hand with a smirk, promising he’d be back to “save you and Nami from culinary catastrophe” as he dramatically put it.

When you’d come back to the kitchen to grab some water, there it was on the counter: a small white envelope with your name written on it in his signature, neat handwriting. There was no address, no note outside, just your name.

You took the envelope to your room and opened it, heart skipping a beat as you unfolded the note.

“Hey, you,” it began, simple but with his effortless charm. “I didn’t want to say this with everyone around, but tomorrow’s your birthday, right? You probably won’t want to make a fuss, but I thought maybe I could do a little something to make it a day you’ll remember. Meet me at the coffee shop by the library at noon, if you’re up for it.”

When morning arrived, you found yourself a little more excited than you’d expected. Noon couldn’t come fast enough. You made your way to the small coffee shop tucked along the edge of campus, right beside the library, where trees were shedding leaves in a blanket of amber and red. The café itself was a quaint, narrow little place with warm brick walls, a black-and-white tiled floor, and wooden tables spread under strings of fairy lights. It had that cozy, old-world feel that made you want to curl up in one of its soft leather booths and lose track of time.

You found him immediately. Sanji was leaning against a table near the front window, gazing outside, lost in thought. The soft autumn light filtered through the glass, casting a warm glow over him, and when he turned, catching sight of you, a genuine smile broke across his face. He walked over, dressed in his usual dark button-down and black slacks, looking completely at ease despite the bustle of students around him.

“There you are,” he greeted you, his tone gentle as he took your hand, leading you to the table he’d reserved. His eyes flickered over you with a softness that made your heart race.

On the table sat a small, carefully frosted cake—something he’d clearly made himself. A single, delicate candle was nestled in the frosting, and beside it, a small bouquet of wildflowers sat in a mason jar, the bright petals adding a splash of color against the warm browns and reds of the café’s decor.

“It’s not much,” he said, scratching the back of his neck with a slightly sheepish smile, “but I thought you deserved something that was just for you. Hope you don’t mind me commandeering your birthday a little.”

You took a seat across from him, feeling the coziness of the café wrap around you, like a small world set apart just for this moment. There was something quietly magical about it all, something you hadn’t felt in a long time—an unexpected warmth that went straight to your heart.

Sanji cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Close your eyes,” he said, a hint of that usual playfulness back in his tone. “I’ll light the candle.”

You closed your eyes, listening to the soft flick of his lighter and feeling the glow of warmth as he leaned in to light the candle. When you opened your eyes, he was watching you, a gentle smile on his face, his eyes reflecting the candle’s flickering light.

“Make a wish,” he murmured, voice low and intent.

The café faded away, the distant hum of conversation and clinking of cups disappearing as you focused on that single, flickering flame. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to make a wish. And when you opened them, he was still there, watching you, as if he could read exactly what was in your heart.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice warm and sure, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You leaned forward, blowing out the candle, the quiet applause of the flame fading into the room’s ambient light. The scent of vanilla and warm frosting filled the air, mixing with the comforting smell of coffee and the rich, earthy tones of autumn that drifted in from the open window. You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest you hadn’t realized you missed, a feeling of being seen, of being cherished, if only for a moment.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you murmured, unable to keep the gratefulness from your voice.

He smiled, his fingers brushing yours across the table, his touch light but reassuring. “It’s nothing. Besides, you have a lot of birthdays to make up for.”

[ghostorbz]

It's leafy day wish her a happy birthday please

[tsoican]

book cover art for @livesworthlivingau

happy birthday (in my timezone) leafy!!! hope you have a good day babes :))

go read its au!!!

[applesaucify]

OMGS !!

[milkvast]

happy birthday leafy

[hippotooth]

OC Deep Dive Questions

Thank you for the tag, @theameba1436 ! This was fun to think about and answer!

I’m not sure who’s done this already or not, and no pressure of course, tagging:

@d-saster-chron-cles @dirgecomic @geckogeckogecko @sunflowergem @adorablebanite @archduchessgortash @mj-bites

@erme-aeterna-arts

Anyone else who sees this and is interested please feel free to join in too! I love getting to know the details of everyone's Tav/Durge.

Questions/Answers for my beloved durge ~Tuatha~ under the cut

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Tua’s biggest fear is that she is unlovable and that getting close to her only brings suffering.

Do they have any pet peeves?

People being indecisive. She loses patience quickly when people dither about – particularly if someone changes a plan that’s already been committed to.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

A collection of fancy perfumes, neat looking bones, a well-cared for plant.

What do they notice first in a person?

Physical threat – Tua’s first assessment upon meeting someone is how easily she could take them in a fight, if they’re armed, etc. – like Mac’s Ocular Patdown from IASIP.  

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

10 – Tua handles pain easily, she’s quite used to it. She’s trained as a monk and has supreme body/mind control which she can distance herself from her body easily when anything gets too intense.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight! Tua likes to fight and is often looking for an excuse to start one. She’s a resist durge, she tries to be ‘good,’ (if only to gain approval from others) but if she feels there’s any way she can justify the bloodshed, however flimsy the excuse, she’s happy to do so.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Tua is a durge character. She never knew her mother and was bounced around between foster families in Baldur’s Gate for most of her childhood. Many of these families were abusive towards her and she was eventually taken into the Bhaal temple after killing one of them. She does not claim any family.

What animal represents them best?

Mongoose!

What is a smell they dislike?

Tua doesn’t like the smell of cities – she gets overwhelmed and irritated by the fusion of smells you find in them – cooking odors, waste, animals, wells, smoke – all these smells individually are fine but their fusion in an urban setting offends her.

Have they broken any bones?

Many at various points, she doesn’t remember most of them.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Off-putting and intense. Tua vacillates between being very intense and smiley when trying to appear friendly or intensely withdrawn. She has very limited social skills.

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

No preference! I’d say most consistently she likes transitional hours, like dawn and dusk.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Tua adores bitter flavors and her favorite food is leafy greens. She hates the taste of fatty meat.

Do they have any hobbies?

Tua likes collecting perfumes and the fancy bottles they come in. She initially started stealing them from her victims as a trophy – she enjoyed bathing herself in the scent of her victims, being able to walk amongst the city cloaked in a symbol of her kill with no one the wiser. Once Gortash noticed this hobby he took to gifting her luxurious perfumes as well.

Tua also like keeping dangerous animals as pets, gnolls are a particular favorite of hers. She spends time researching different creatures and doing experiments to see how they may survive in captivity.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

“You like me, you really like me!!” Tua would be very happy anyone cared enough about her to throw her a party. She would probably cry.

Do they like to wear jewelery?

Tua enjoys jewelry, however, she finds it can be a hazard while fighting so she rarely wears it. She normally has some stud earrings in. She likes to steal jewelry and gift it to her lovers, she enjoys dressing them up.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Extremely messy.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Shame and longing

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Linen – breathable, easy to move and fight in, easy to clean

What kind of accent do they have?

The standard in-game accent

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Autumn (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @thisgameissonintendo

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Pure fluff. Friends to more-than-friends. Morpheus has made you a dream based on one of your favourite things and you explore it together.

Warnings: Physical intimacy, kissing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Happy First Day of Autumn Sandfam! Hope you enjoy this one, would love to hear what you think, and also to know which season is your favourite and why. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

--------------------------------------

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, feeling very much like a person awaiting a surprise on their birthday.

"So impatient," Morpheus replies with a teasing lilt to his liquid velvet voice that sets your laughter free.

"Is that a yes?"

"I am simply adding some final touches."

Ever the perfectionist, you think with a grin.

You inhale deeply, making use of one of the only other senses you could use in this situation. The air is crisp, fresh, with an earthy undertone; you are definitely outside, but where, you have no other clues to help guess.

Morpheus had certainly not given anything away when he had found you sketching in the Dreaming's orchard, charcoal in one hand, half-eaten apple in the other. He had simply told you there was something he wanted to show you.

Curiosity mounting, you had eagerly taken your friend's outstretched hand and promised to not look until he gave the word.

Finally, there is movement in the air beside you. Morpheus' fingers ghost your upper arm to signify his proximity.

"You may open your eyes now," he speaks quietly yet authoritatively by your ear.

You look, blinking to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the swaying branches of numerous trees, before taking the view in properly.

You notice the colours first, their vivacity and variety:

Umber, sienna, scarlet, amber, saffron. All under a pale blue, wispy cloud sky.

Leaves are falling thick and fast. They swirl and undulate in the soft breeze, coming to rest on an already leaf-smothered ground.

Little collections of chestnut coloured mushrooms are dotted next to the tree line. Droplets of dew have gathered on their caps, lending a gorgeous sheen to their already lovely appearance.

Everything you saw was a showcase of autumn.

"You remembered," you say breathlessly, referring to a conversation that had taken place a few weeks ago where you had professed your love for the season and all it entailed.

You look to Morpheus with a sunbeam smile, asking for permission to explore. He nods, extending his arm, communicating that it was all yours.

Your steps into the leafy clearing are gleeful and bouncy, creating satisfying rustling and crunching noises as you go towards the well-established trees. Melodic birdsong echoes from the canopy above you. Swathes of moss begin where the layers of leaves end. You carefully hop onto it and enjoy the way your shoes sink a little into the plush, verdant carpet.

Fingertips trail over the greyish, dappled trunk of a sycamore tree before you move to the tactile, deeply ridged bark of an ash.

You slip your arms around the second tree, close your eyes and give it a big hug.

Everything feels right in this moment.

You open your eyes to see Morpheus watching you from several paces away. There is a twinkle in his deep blue eyes; clearly he finds your display amusing.

The rich autumn colours contrast beautifully against his monochrome attire. None of the falling leaves come close to his person, reminding you that even now, even when he looks to be still, there are a multitude of responsibilities ticking away inside his mind, including the control of the objects within this tranquil dreamscape.

A dreamscape that he wanted to share with you.

It is times like these that you are confronted by the truth of just how special your friendship with Morpheus is. There are fleeting moments where you wish it could be more but for now you are simply an Endless and a mortal who find solace in each other's company.

Pushing yourself away from the tree, you come back into the clearing and find a spot among the leaves to sit. Morpheus joins you after you pat the ground and call his name.

No words are exchanged for a while. You simply pick through the surrounding leaves to find the most vibrant example. A scarlet one, fallen from an aspen is what you settle on. You tuck it in your coat pocket and meet Morpheus' wistful gaze.

"Thank you, I really needed this."

He nods formally. "When you said that you found yourself missing the autumn splendours of the Waking World, I decided to make a version for you to visit at your leisure."

You are taken aback. "You made all this for me?"

"Yes," his tone starts off measured as ever but gives way to something you have never heard before. "Does it have your approval?"

The sudden insecurity is impossibly endearing. You reach sideways to touch the back of his hand.

"Approval? Morpheus, it's - well, somewhere I could only dream of."

He bows his head. "It pleases me to hear that."

"I hope it didn't take up too much of your time to make it all, I know how stretched you can get."

"I cannot deny, it has occupied me a little more than the construction of other recent dreams, however, I believe it necessary to put time and effort into making gifts for those whose pleasure and happiness you find important. You deserve to feel those things, Y/N, and being able to contribute to them in some way brings me pleasure of my own."

You don't know if it the fiery colours around you heightening your reactions but hearing Morpheus talk about pleasure is doing something to you.

It is fuel to the embers that had been smouldering within your body for a couple of months now.

It makes you feel delirious. You find your attention languidly drifting between his eyes and his lips.

Blue to pink, pink to blue.

Then he mirrors your action and it all becomes too much.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you admit, the words rushing out without proper consideration.

"Very well," he answers instantly, not allowing you even a fraction of a second to regret your sudden divulgence.

Doubling down on this approach, he turns his body to face yours and gently cups your face in his long-fingered hands.

He's staring at you so intently, his thumbs run back and forth over your cheekbones, the unwavering attention and sensation causing you to shiver and sigh.

He moves closer and his pupils blow out from anticipation.

Morpheus' perfect lips are now mere centimetres from yours. Fluttery nerves fill your insides. You are so overwhelmed that this is actually happening.

You close the gap, testing the waters with a kiss that is soft and tentative. Morpheus is instantly hooked, initiating a second one that allows you to discover just how skilled he is.

Your hands move up to tangle in Morpheus' unruly hair. At present, you cannot remember how long have you been longing to do this but you are not disappointed by how silken it feels under your palms.

The kiss between you becomes intense, his tongue joining the dance with a bone melting deftness, and soon you want to feel more of his body against yours.

You go to lay back on the bed of leaves.

He pulls away, concern etched in his brows, forehead and eyes that questions if he has gone too quickly.

You smile softly to assure him that all is well.

"Come here." You draw him backwards with you, allowing him to straddle you. During the manoeuvre, his coat falls open enough for you to see the galaxies swirling within the lining.

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you once more, starting at your lips and moving to your neck when he senses that you need to breathe.

The touches of his mouth, the feeling of his body covering yours protectively, the weight of his hips aligned with your own; it has you moaning appreciatively.

He withdraws but remains close, astute eyes drinking in every detail and emotion on your smiling face, the halo-like glow shimmering on your hair.

"So beautiful," Morpheus murmurs reverently.

"Your dreams always are," you say, looking past him at the translucent clouds hovering in the sky above you.

His deep voice rumbles deliciously as he speaks his reply, a false admonishment, "You know that's not what I meant."

He playfully nudges his nose against yours. "This dream pales in comparison to you."

You blush as brightly as the leaf that you had stashed within your pocket. Morpheus traces his fingers over the blossoming redness, marvelling in how the extra heat feels under his touch and how his words were the ones that put it there.

"Kiss me, please," you ask in a whisper.

He arranges his coat to cocoon you against the seasonal chill and then obliges you with a deep and passionate kiss that spreads internal warmth right out to the tips of your fingers and toes.

If your winter continues like this, with Morpheus to hold and bond with, it is shaping up to be infinitely more delightful and cosy than any that have come before.

[hopepetal]

A little boatem knights au writing for Scar's birthday!

—

Scar woke up a year older, and as it had been with the last few centuries, things were unchanged. The sun was shining (which brought with it the leafy scent of Mumbo's sunscreen), the birds were chirping, and Scar stepped out of his tent to greet the day.

He walked out to a very different sight than what he had expected.

“Surprise!”

Standing there were the knights, Cub, Jimmy, and Tango, who had clearly just been rushing around preparing... this. The camp was covered in mismatched decorations, trinkets likely taken from Grian's treasure hoard (with great reluctance from the avian, Scar imagined) strewn about the camp, shining when the light caught them.

Scar blinked, looking around at everyone. “Huh– what's this? What are you doing here?”

Impulse grinned. “Well, I was with Cub the other day and he just so happened to mention that it was your birthday today! So I told the others, and we grabbed Cub and Jimmy and Tango to help celebrate!”

“It's because no one here can bake to save their lives,” Jimmy explained, “and they wanted a cake.”

Mumbo held out the, to be quite frank, monstrosity on a plate. “Grian and I decorated!” he chirped, and Scar squinted at the near illegible frosting words.

“I wasn't here for this,” Pearl explained, “I was out getting decorations.”

“It says happy birthday Scar!” Grian told Scar, “and you can just ignore the redstone dust in the frosting, that's Mumbo's fault.”

Mumbo squeaked, eyes widening. “Look, I washed my hands! Very thoroughly!”

Cub chuckled, shaking his head. “Slight redstone ingestion never hurt anyone,” he pointed out, Mumbo, Impulse, and Tango nodding in agreement.

Scar beamed, holding his hands over his heart. His eyes shone with joy and barely held back tears. “Why, you all are so sweet! This is absolutely amayzin', thank you so much!”

“I still think we should sing,” Pearl piped up, to a resounding, unanimous "no."

“You do not want me to sing,” Mumbo told her with a slight giggle.

“Or me,” Impulse added, scratching his head right behind his horns. “Not a good idea. Tango will tell you.”

Tango grinned, elbowing Impulse. “Oh, I absolutely will, buddy.”

Scar took the cake from Mumbo, his face hurting from how much he was smiling. “Thank you all so so much,” he said once more, sincerely. “This is– this is so nice!”

“Of course, Scar!” Grian's wings fluttered slightly from the excitement. “You're our friend! Of course we'd celebrate your birthday!” He leaned over, pointing at the red and green blobs of frosting on the cake. “And these are poppies, see? They're your favorite flower, I remembered you telling me!” He was so proud of himself for this, eyes shining as he bragged to Scar.

Scar gasped. “Oh wow, G! That's absolutely fantastic! I think we should go eat it now!”

“Count me out.” Jimmy backed away, his hands held up. “I live with this man. I've seen what redstone does to him.” He gestured at Tango with his head. “I refuse to take part in any of this.”

Tango laughed. “Your loss, buddy!”

Cub nodded, holding back a smile of his own. “More for the rest of us, then.”

Pearl wrapped an arm around Jimmy's shoulders. “Does poor Tim have a sensitive stomach?” she teased, to Jimmy's indignant squawking. “It's okay, mate! Nothing to be ashamed of!”

“I'm not–!” Jimmy splutttered, face turning a light shade of red. “Oh, my gosh. This is awful. Why do I come here?”

Grian hopped up to Jimmy, a coy grin on his face. “Because you love us, Timmy!”

Scar began walking to the eating area, carrying the cake with him. “C'mon, guys! This cake isn't gonna eat itself, y'know!”

The rest of the day was spent joking around with the knights and their friends, and eventually ended under the stars with a crackling bonfire.

Scar heaved out a contented sigh. “So. Have you guys given any more thought to matching uniforms?” he asked, and laughter broke out among the knights.

It was a good day.