#have a poly fic

[chancellorxofxtrash]

speed on ahead (don't mind the burnt bridges)

Fandom: Boonboomger Pairing: Boonboomger OT5

Mira did burn a lot of bridges, when she ran away from the altar

Read on AO3

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Fic Idea where Fiddleford helps Stan rebuild the portal, but Stan finds out that Fiddleford has a wife and he's like

"You have a WIFE?? That DIDN'T marry you to steal your car and money???? What are you DOING here???"

"Yeah, well.... She's better off thinking I'm dead somewhere....."

"A WIFE. That LOVES you. Get outta here and go explain yourself, Idiot!!"

"She and our son shouldn't have to deal with--"

"YOUR SON???!!?!!??"

Anyways, so Stan helps Fiddleford reach out and explain himself to his wife, but expresses that he wants to keep being in Gravity Falls, so his wife and kid go to live with them in The Shack instead.

Blah blah blah, bonding happens, Stan bags Fiddleford AND his wife and becomes a step dad, God bless 🙏

[ohwowimlonley]

more public sex with james please 🙏🙏

No :)

-

Everyone is piled onto one large L shaped sofa in James’ living room, despite there being plenty of other seats available. James says it’s because you get the best view of the TV from where you are, but you’re convinced it’s some kind of ploy.

Sirius is sat to the left of you, James to your right and Remus to his right. There’s a pink sherpa blanket over your thighs, one that you’d offeredto the boys on either side of you, but they’d both refused, with Sirius claiming that he doesn’t need a blanket to watch a horror movie, and James saying he’d let you know if he gets too cold.

In all honesty, you’re not at all interested in the movie playing on the TV screen, despite the fact that you were allowed to pick the movie, one you knew would scare the life out of Sirius and Remus.

James’ thigh has been pressed to yours for the past fifteen minutes, and even through the expensive matierial of the blanket you can feel the heat that he’s somehow always radiating. It’s distracting, really, the way he touches you just oh so casually, like there’s no intention behind it at all. But you know better. There’s no way that he just so happens to repeatedly brush his hand slightly too high when stroking your thigh over the top of the blanket.

Quickly, but as nonchalantly as possible, you throw the blanket over his lap too, and swing your right leg over his knees. He’s suggested doing this sort of thing before; touching eachother in front of the boys, and you’ve always been eager but too apprehensive to actually try it yet.

“You sure about this?” James knows what you want. Somehow, he can always just tell. His hand is already underneath your skirt, on the brink of prodding the waistband of your panties. His lips are on your earlobe, breath fanning all the way down your neck and giving you goosebumps, “we can just go upstairs, you know the boys won’t mind,”

You don’t trust your voice. If you try to speak now, the sound that will come out will be nowhere near appropriate, so you just nod, slow and meek, and keep your eyes flitting to the boys on either side of you.

Your subtleties last not even a minute. The second James’ calloused fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a low, warbling whinge. All three marauder boys look at eachother and snicker. You don’t care about them knowing any more, you just smush your cheek against your boyfriend’s muscled pec.

“Needy, s’she?” Sirius has that toothy grin on, one that all the marauders know to be his ‘thinking dirty thoughts’ smile, “Moony can sort that out, y’know?”

You prove his point only moments later by grinding yourself against James’ fingers. He slips them over your slit, up, down, up, down, and finally allows them to circle around your empty, aching hole. A simply unholy sound leaves your mouth when he slips a finger inside, all the way in until his palm brushes your clit.

“Let them have their fun, pads,” Remus tuts, stretching his gangly arm around you and James to flick him on the shoulder, “you’re havin’ fun with Prongsie, aren’t you pet?”

“Yeah,” it’s barely even understandable, the high pitched preen you let out, but the boys always get you. James leans down, nosing alond your jawline and letting his teeth drag on the topmost part of your neck. He takes out his finger, and replaces it with two of them.

“Gonna show the boys how pretty you sound when you cum, love?” His fingers speed up, tapping against your gummy walls and grinding against your sweet spot. His other hand reaches round and tugs experimentally on the blanket still covering your modesty. He only removes it for the boys to see when you nod frantically against his chest.

“Already? Not even been five minutes, sweetness,” Sirius teases, eyes widening when he sees your pussy contract at his words.

“I think she just likes the attention,” James curls his fingers, using his knees to spread your legs further apart to show you off to his friends, “s’that it, honey? Y’want the boys to watch you get all desperate for my fingers? Want one of them to have a turn next?”

You choke back a sob as you finally cum around James’ fingers, barely even hearing the boys’ gasps of wonder as you gush creamyness around the rim of your puffy hole.

“So,” Remus clears his throat, “my turn?”

[nonranghaes]

jeonghan wakes up to the soft sound of you singing happy birthday to him, and he's already smiling to himself. the door creaks open, that sweet sound coming closer and closer as he turns over to see you're bringing him breakfast. you don't do this often, which he's always been fine with, but he likes it when you spoil him like this... even if he knows he has to be a menace about it. he's your menace, after all: you'd be disappointed if he didn't live up to that.

"happy birthday, my sweet jeonghannie," you play up the cuteness a little more, just because it's his day, and carefully seat yourself next to him, tray in hand. "i'm so glad you're in my life."

ah. well, now it feels a little mean to be a menace. but he leans in, lips pressing against your own for just a few seconds before he pulls away. "do you mean that?" he's grinning. "then feed me."

you snort a little, almost jostling the tray as you balance it in his lap. "really?"

"you don't love me?" he's not going to fight back how visibly amused he is with you. you've seen him tease others with a straight face, but he almost never hides that smile or that glimmer in his eyes with you anymore. not unless joshua's around and your partner's other partner (as you and joshua jokingly call each other now) is in on some bit.

you just kiss him again. "i adore you." you press another kiss against the corner of his mouth, and another against his cheek. "so if you insist..."

"i do." he reaches up, cupping your cheek as he steals one last kiss for now. "i love you, too, by the way."

[ervotica]

whump with poly!rosekiller and their sweet angel girl. their treasure, the most precious person to ever exist. maybe it's voldy related, maybe it's someone holding a grudge against them, maybe it's a pureblood feud. unfortunately for the culprit, it doesn't matter, anyway. they're out for blood. feral. primal. nursing their sweet baby's injuries and fussing over her even as she whines and shies away from the affection, the intensity of it. even after all this time, sometimes it's a lot to process at once. their blinding adoration. when she finally drops into a fitful sleep in evan's arms, barty gives a curt nod as he stalks from the dorms, wand in hand.

the poor fucker won't know what hit them.

[braindos]

Zzzzz…

[paperibbon]

ink stained hand (will you hold it?)

chapter i: bookstore girls pairing: poly!feysand x reader series sum. A bookseller’s simple life turns upside down when she becomes fast companions of the Night Court’s Inner Circle. When she develops feelings for the most powerful couple in Prythian, how will she get over the golden thread of fate that pulls them ever so far apart?

The sun was high in the sky, and the sweat stuck to the back of your shirt with a vengeance, plastering the material to you like a second skin. As forgiving and endearing as summer was, children laughing in the streets, people bustling about in sheer, bright colors, the heat could be killer.

Especially waiting in lines like these. 

The queue snaked around the block, everyone from fae that lived on farmland outside of Velaris, to shopkeepers, to families of all shapes and sizes. You’d thought the heat might thin it out a bit, maybe send some people to find shelter and shade, to stand in front of an icebox maybe; but alas. It was just as long as it was a few hours ago. You clutched the papers you’d written up months prior to your chest, lifting your hair from your neck in an attempt to elicit some sort of cooling effect.

You, like many, many others were grateful to your High Lord, and newly minted High Lady for these meetings. Even if not everything was fixed, most people walked out with a respect you were sure you couldn’t say other courts held for their rulers. And the papers you’d slaved over, finding just the right words to propose your idea, well, you hoped they’d hear you out, if nothing else.

Smoothing down the front of your skirts, you surveyed the people in front of you. Three bodies. Three people. Three more appointments to suffer in the heat until you were face-to-face with people who could grant your dreams, or crush them kindly in their fists. Your heart stuttered, thick, humid air winding its way through your nose, and out. Two. Then, the curly haired fae with a sour expression on her pale blue face that had stood before you for the past three hours marched into the heavy open doors, and you were twisting your fingers in flighty anticipation. You couldn’t hear her voice, even at your proximity, and it relieved something in you to know that this wouldn’t leave this room. Your sorry request, your whimsical fantasy would stay stuck in the air between your High Lady, High Lord, and you.

The guard positioned at the gate gave you a wry smile, a rosy hue to her cheeks, the sweat slicking her orange hair to her brow. You were sure you looked similar, frazzled and sweaty, sickeningly anxious and delighted all at the same time.

“You’ll be fine.” Her voice was accented lightly, like nothing you’d ever heard before. You grew up here, in the Night Court, barely a child when Amarantha terrorized the land, now, a fully grown female with stars in her eyes.

You nodded your thanks. She simply smiled wider.

When the doors opened again and the fae from before walked out, a wind flirted across your cheeks curling in your hair. A greeting.

“First door on your left. Can’t miss it.” A smooth wink, and the door thumped shut behind you. 

The marble tiling was smooth, dark, and flecked with silver. How Night Court. You couldn’t stop your head from swiveling as you traversed the hall, ornate art hung on either side, a show of wealth, of power. You recognized some of the scenes, the High Lady fearlessly facing off against Hybern’s forces at the Rainbow, the Night Court’s general sweeping low onto the battlefield, the Lady’s sister, fearsome, cloaked in silver flames like a phoenix. Your eyes shifted towards the open doorway, thick wooden carvings of an animal you couldn’t place, scales expertly carved, fangs and talons almost as sharp as you’d imagine the creature carried in real life. Absently, your hand curled around a claw jutting from the frame, the stable wood almost warm beneath your fingers.

“Admiring the woodworking?” A soft voice cut through the silence, and you turned, abruptly, eyes wide. 

“I’m so sorry.” You stuttered, the words falling out without a thought. The High Lady was standing, a stunning lilac dress tailored to her form, golden and silver stars stitched delicately in sporadic patterns. A golden circlet, plain, yet stately sat at her raised brows, warm sea blue eyes crinkled into a smile. You balked, face pinching into an expression that could only be described as shameful, hands twisting in your old linen skirt, the drab color sticking out like a sore thumb. The High Lord was absent, the chair next to hers empty, but you felt no relief from that. The High Lady was just as imposing.

“Don’t be.” A flick of her wrist towards the chair across from them sent you into action, and you lowered yourself into the plush seat. “Would you like anything to drink or eat? How long have you been out there?”

Her voice seemed too perfect, too hypnotic for your ears. You found yourself blinking, twice, three times before you registered her question.

“I’m okay, truly.” Food would make you barf, so bad move there. From the looks of this place, any glass they’d offer you was likely three times the sum of your rent, and your shaking hands would send it shattering across the floor. “And not long, my lady.”

“Hm.” The sound was low, like the rumble of the ground beneath your feet, and your head felt inclined to dip. The High Lord was just as intimidating as you’d expected; dressed in all black, a matching circlet to his mate’s glinted in the faelight, his hands folded neatly into his pockets. “We don’t take kindly to liars.”

The expression that flickered across your face must have been comically scared, from the way the Lady’s eyes hardened to sheer ice.

“Rhys.” The lovely voice, the bells you would follow to the ends of the earth, possibly, shot out like a crop. 

The High Lord leveled you with a look that would have sent males twice your age running for the hills, and you thought about it. You considered hiking your skirts up, tucking your pitiful tail between your legs, and dashing out of here as fast as your legs could carry you. Instead, you smoothed out the papers in your hands, lowered your gaze, and began to read from the page.

“Thank you for your audience.” You began, eyes tracking your scribbling. “I wanted to first extend my gratitude for not only this moment, but the neverending support that you both have shown your people. I thank you for that.” A glance up, and your eyes connected with the starflecked violet gaze of your High Lord. Something in your gut twisted violently at his lowered brow, and your hand passed briefly over where your heart titered in your chest. “I here to ask for something that may be small to you, but is quite big to me.”

The rest of the words bleed together on the page in front of you, and with a sigh, you fold the paper along the edges, and cover the square with your palms. You know what you want, it swirls in your gut, tugs on your heart. It’s hanging from the biggest and brightest star, and this is the only chance you might have to dream for it, to hope that it might, one day, be real, might be a whisper of fruition eddying towards your open arms. 

“I’ve dreamed for my whole life that one day, I might make a difference. That someday, something might make me matter to someone.” Your voice teetered on breaking. “My mother and father are long gone. I have no brothers, no sisters. I don’t have many friends to speak of, and I’m sure I speak of them more than they speak of me. What I’m asking for is stupid, but to me, it’s a dream.” A saccharine smile aimed at your twisting hands, before your head pulls back to finally look at the two most powerful people you’ve ever known. “Have you ever had stupid dreams?”

The question hangs in the air like a feather. Your fingers flex, like you might reach out and snatch it back.

“No dream is stupid.” The High Lord’s eyes blink with stars. It’s mesmerizing. It’s terrifying. His gaze doesn’t stray from you, and it spreads a heat across the tip of your nose, peaking your ears. 

You pick at the edge of the paper neatly pressed to your thighs, peeling a corner back, folding it on the edge, and ripping along the seam as you swish your thoughts around in your head.

“This one might be.” Your smile is wistful, if not sad, like a flower blowing in the cold wind of winter, the laughter of a grown child. 

The scrape of a chair, and your High Lady has inched ever so close to you, her knees almost touching yours, the hazy purple gauze flirting against the skin of her legs as she shifts. It makes your heart beat that much quicker, her beauty, her close proximity, the power you feel rolling off her. You’ve been caught in storms before, but she’s like lightning itself. Soft, strong hands cup yours, and you almost jerk back out of sheer surprise, but the quirk of her lips makes your own soften into a smile.

“It’s okay to wish for silly things.” 

Years ago, you might have agreed with her.

Today, you aren’t so sure.

“High Lady, High Lord,” You say, eyes stuck on a freckle at the base of her thumb, tracing the lines of the jet black tattoo that curls up her wrist. “I want to find purpose.”

You could hear a pin drop.

The High Lady’s eyes glazed over, the stormy sea calming to a rolling fog. Daring a glance at the High Lord, you noticed a similar look in his eyes, the purple sky a calming shade of lilac, his eyes unfocused. You didn’t dare breathe, catching a gasp in your chest when they both finally resurfaced, a sharp snap in their gaze like you’d clicked your fingers for their attention. It was odd to have such resounding attention from two people who could crush the world around you with a blink, who could kill you without batting an eye. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, but you weren’t sure if it was terror, or great awe.

“That’s your wish?” The High Lord’s voice is startling all of a sudden, though you know it shouldn’t be. You blink, once, twice, and then nod, a simple strong shake of your head.

“That’s my wish.” You feel pitiful as you shrug your shoulders, but the High Lady squeezes your hands in hers. “I understand if you can’t grant it, I do. I greatly understand. In fact, I know you probably won’t be able to. And that’s alright with me. I’m just glad you’ve listened.”  It’s lighter than the rest of your conversation, the almost laughing tone your voice takes on. You pull back from the hands on top of yours, nodding gratefully. You hope you look sincere as you lower your head in a makeshift bow. “Thank you for that. For your hearts.”

You stood, not waiting for dismissal, which might have been a stupid decision. It might have cost you more than just pure embarrassment, the flush taking on a different, less welcome heat as it cloaked your shoulders and pressed into your chest. You did a poor curtsy, out of nothing more than a sorry excuse for respect to the two, and fled the room without a glance in either direction, even as something molten, something tight in your chest tugged away at you.

You didn’t even realize in your haste, the paper you’d meticulously, ever-so-carefully tended to for the last months had toppled to the floor, scrawled with sprawling words. 

Your wish.

-

The sun was still hot and high in the sky as you slunk into the shop, and the book you were using as a fan was doing nothing to combat the heat. Leaned against the entryway, holding the hair off the back of your neck and rapidly flapping the flimsy romance novel in your hand in hopes that even the smallest breeze would cool you down. The magic that typically kept the shop well ventilated was on the fritz, sending wayward gusts of air that ruffled through the pages on hand before stopping altogether, levitating teacups and coffee mugs in the air before dropping them and sending any liquid spilling onto the floor, opening and closing the curtains at will. 

“Hi, lovely!” The seamstress across the way waved at you with a lacy handkerchief, brown hair piled high on her head, a sheen of sweat dotted across her brow and smearing the silvery make-up she’d carefully used to decorate her eyes. 

“Hi, Dia.” You raised the book in greeting, letting your  hair drop from your hand. She sent you  a smile in greeting before escaping inside her shop, the wooden sign in her window swinging proudly from CLOSED to OPEN. 

With a great sigh, you tipped your head back and listened to the busy street with shut eyes. Children squealed on the street, couples tittered back and forth. Some called your name in greeting, and you waved lazily, eyes still shut, lulled into a sense of hazy drowsiness. Your flushed cheek pressed into the door sleepily, until a wet, cold object was shoved under your collar. 

Eyes flying open, the book fell to the floor, hands flinging to the back of your shirt, hopping from one foot to the next. Finally, the ice cube dropped from your dress to the floor, and you whirled on the culprit. 

“Sammy!” The accused giggled, eyes slit in amused mischief. “You pest!” 

Sammy was the delivery boy, and the bane of your existence. He was a child, only seventeen, with a boyish roundness to his cheeks and an inane personality that would make the sweetest person in Prythian think about bashing him on the head once or twice. It was his mission to make every day you lived harder than the last, but his mother, the owner of the neighboring bakery, thought it was because he fancied you a tad. You couldn’t tell if she was having a laugh, or had too much faith in her only child. You were much too old for him anyways.

“Who said I even did anything?” His blue lips pulled into a pout, his ears flicked and his red eyes widened like that of a street dog. “Mean, mean girl.”

Setting your jaw and bending down to swipe the book from the floor and make your way into the shop, you shot him a mean glare, something to make flowers wither, and little boys cry. He was standing by the back door, a sure sign that a shipment was docked, tightening the string on the front of his sleeveless tunic. Sliding behind the counter, leaving the book on the top, you moved around him to peer at what he’d delivered. 

It was a small box, unusual, but not uncommon, with a dainty golden lock holding it shut. You tilted your head around the boy, trying to get a better look at the thing. It was probably a special edition for one of our wealthier clients, but you hadn’t seen any sort of order like that go through in months, hadn’t heard a whisper of what this could even be. Without thinking, you started towards it out of sheer curiosity, but Sammy stepped in front of it with a sharp toothed grin and held his hand out.

“Payment first, please.” 

You rolled your eyes so hard, the planet did another spin.

“Greedy.”

Shouldering around him, you made your way to the lockbox and shook out a few gold pieces. His palm was cold and damp when you passed them over to him, and with a smirk like an alley cat, he disappeared down the alley and left you with the mysterious package. 

The box was ornate and wooden, the lock glinting on the outside with the winking of the sun through the windows. Approaching it with cautious curiosity, you reached out and grasped the lock, feeling its cool metal under my fingertips. Giving it a good tug, your feet slid out from under you, sending you sprawling to the floor in an instant; the box was heavy - like it was filled with a million rocks, ten ton weights, and a heavy book. Stretching your leg out towards the thing, you nudged it with the tip of your toe, hoping for some kind of movement but, alas - nothing. Abandoning caution, your leg reeled back and kicked the thing as hard as you could, only to be met with searing pain that reverberated through the bones of your shin. With a resigned huff,  you stood, brushing off dust from your skirt, and left it behind the counter with another, less fierce, more defiant kick for good measure.

Stupid thing. 

The box seemed to respond, the smallest of noises —the faint shuffle of the lock settling into place. It wasn't laughter, of course, but in that moment, it might as well have been. 

The day was sluggish and hot into the afternoon. Little to no customers stopped in, and Elias, the owner of the store, had left me alone for the morning. You did your duties; swept the aisles aimlessly, fronted all the books in the history section, wiped the counters at the tea stand. You even ventured to organize the pillows and blankets in the reading section, which was a loathsome task due to the sheer number of them littered about. Finally, when the sun was high in the sky with no promise of a cloud, Reana, the only other worker at the shop, slunk into the shop. 

Her inky hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and the clothes she wore were thin and airy, a short cream top with no straps, and a loose matching skirt that showed off a fair bit of her long legs. Her tanned skin was flushed with the heat, and her glasses sat low on her nose, the chain that held them along her neck softly clinking against itself.  

“I am sweating through every layer of clothing.” Her voice was scratchy, like smoke on a foggy day.

“Elias needs to re-up these stupid wards before I try myself.” Crossing the room from the little nook you’d been tidying up, you offered her a smile as a greeting. 

“Oh, don’t do that to us.” She snorted. With a flick of her hand, the tea stand bustled to life. “The last time you tried, it set us back decades.”

She was exaggerating, of course. The last time you’d tried to enforce the feeble wards on the store, it’d knocked every book out of the shelves and broken almost every mug and cup in sight. Your magic was not strong, it wasn’t practiced, and it sure as the Mother wasn’t controlled.

“Can you make some cold drinks? Maybe?” You plopped yourself down on a rickety red stool, chipped and discolored from use. “Milk tea would be lovely.”

Reana works the tea and coffee portion of the shop. While you could make an adequate cup, she was versed in fancy drinks and conversation; two things you did not have the skillset for. Her head dipped as she moved towards the counter, working meticulously to pull together the things she needed. Each movement was a choreographed dance, as she deftly poured and mixed, her fingers moving with the precision of a seamstress. The glasses sitting on her nose fogged up as she leaned down to sniff the spiced pot of tea on her small stove. She set the milky drink in front of you, the icey glass heavenly against my hands as you sipped at it casually, lolling my head back and forth as you drank. As the both of you sat in silence, the ambient sounds of the bustling street outside drifted in through the open window, mingling with the soft clink of ice cubes in our glasses. 

Gratefully, she doesn’t ask about the meeting you had today. Gratefully, she keeps her eyes trained on her tasks. Gratefully, you don’t have to explain anything to her.

Until…

Until the bell on the front door rings, and in steps the High Lord, the paper you’d apparently forgotten pinched between his thumb and his forefinger, the smile of a jester playing across his lips.

“Hello,” Voice like smooth, rich coffee colors the air. “I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

[potatoplace]

You Can Have It - Chapter 4

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 5 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, nothing else I don't think

Words: ~7.4k

Author's Note: it's heeeereeeeeee aaaahhhhhhh RHYS AND FEYRE YESSS I hope you guys all like this chapter! And I can't wait for more cutesy lil interactions with them, all to start come the next update ☺️

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The past month and a half had passed so swiftly, you could hardly believe it. Your days were filled with overseeing a few details of construction, and picking out every last piece of furniture that would be in your bakery, apartment, and garden. You and Mor went on lunch dates every Thursday, and most your other lunches were spent with Rella and sometimes Arana after shopping, or with Marcus between stints of supervising the construction.

Your dinners you spent alone most of the time, dedicating yourself to cooking every last recipe in your Night Court Favorites cookbook, enjoying your love for cooking as well.

The time you spent in your hotel room was either passed by reading the Healer of Time series that Gina had recommended to you, or creating your menu pamphlet for when you are finally prepped and ready to open your bakery.

It was completed already, and sent off to the printers for a custom metal press to be made. You had decorated it with a drawing of your bakery on the front, and the name Sparaiya Bakery. The rest of the pages were filled with drawings of your pastries, with the ingredients and, in some cases, added benefits next to them.

Construction had gone by quickly, and you could hardly believe it when finally, your large custom pink marble tub was flown onto the second floor of your bakery by three very strong Illyrians. It was a foot wider than your wingspan, and deep enough that you could float in it, and it also had pretty good veining done on it at your request. It was by far the most expensive piece of furniture on your second floor, coming in at 1,175 gold marks. But you didn’t care, you wanted your dream tub.

The most expensive thing in your bakery by far were your ovens, each one coming in at 2,000 gold marks with a lifetime warranty, and in a soft, pale blue. You have ten stoves in total, seven of them were against the wall separating the kitchen from the front room, taking up the expanse of it. Each are on an elevated platform so that you could see inside of them without needing to bend over. The other three were against the back wall of the building, slightly smaller oven sizes but with a stovetop on each of them, so that you were able to make the filling that some of your pastries require.

The kitchen was completely done at this point, as was the front room of the bakery. Your kitchen was decorated with the pale blue stoves as well as matching cabinetry with silver handles, and white marble countertops with silver veining. The wide window you had took up half of the wall in the center of it, allowing for more cabinets, as you would likely need them for all of your bakeware and ingredients.

The kitchen was exactly how you’d imagined it when you had envisioned it a month ago, as was the front room.

You had the cedar logs of bakery and it’s furniture stained slightly darker, wanting it to have the cozy feeling of a darkened cabin in winter. The log chairs and benches all had different shades of pastel cushions attached to the seats, and the backs of the chairs. The tables were beautiful as well, the carpenter, a kind beta named Oren, had done a fantastic job on all of the wooden furniture you had.

And the display cases Arana had made for you were lovely, two on each side of the wooden counter Oren had also made for you. Arana had made them of matching wood, with a glass dome on one side, and sliding glass doors on the back facing where you would be standing. The shelves were also made of glass, and you’d had Rella enchant them to be unbreakable, just in case.

There was also a counter running along the back wall of the front room, matching the counters in your kitchen, as well as having the same cabinets below.

Your fireplace- it was exactly what you had wanted, made of different shades of grey stone, and positioned on the left wall, even with the midpoint of the dining area.

Your front door had yet to arrive, but the artist working on it was bringing it by in the next week.

The upstairs was nearly finished as well, your bathroom, personal kitchen and bedroom were all fully decorated. Your bathroom and kitchen were both done in a soft, baby pink color, matching the marble of your tub perfectly. You had a small round dining table, perfect for four, made by Oren in the same stained wood as everything else. In front of your fireplace on the right hand wall, you had a matching couch placed parallel to it, and two chairs placed of to the sides and slightly in front of it, with end tables on either side of the couch.

And your bedroom was absolutely perfect, your nest filled with blues of nearly every shade, with white and silk thrown in every now and then. So many pillows, you have so many pillows. Back in Winter, you had been so focused on your grandmother that you hadn’t even truly settled back in, and your nest was one of the things you had consistently neglected.

But not anymore. From now on, you would honor your omega’s wishes, perhaps even find an alpha who would treat you right in the next few years.

You had a few bookshelves lining a wall of your room as well, and you were determined to fill them all in the next three years with books you’ve read while living in Velaris.

Everything about your apartment upstairs was perfect, you couldn’t have been happier with any other turn out.

And truly, the main thing left for you to do before you could declare your bakery’s construction complete is your garden. The enchantments are complete, including ones to keep the planters waterproof to avoid any possible leakage, as well as keeping the air crisp and humid for your soon-to-be plant babies. You have yet to fill the planters already in place with dirt, or pick up the plants from Winter though.

But that was your main goal for the next week.

You had finally moved in the night before, after Marcus had given you the all clear. Your bill with him came out to be 120,000 gold marks, and every single one of them was well spent, as you had your perfect bakery and perfect apartment.

You had woken up this morning and made tea for yourself in your kitchen, and stared out at the lovely view you had from your massive window. There were a few younger fae out already, skating along the Sidra. It had yet to unfreeze, the temperatures had stayed low ever since you had arrived in town.

You almost felt like winter was holding on a bit tighter, just for you.

You finished your tea and breakfast around nine, then got ready for the day, dressing in one of your new winter dresses, this one in a soft pink, with delicate silver flowers embroidered along the hems of your sleeves. You threw on a white scarf, hat, and mitten set, then made your way down the stairs, and out the of what will soon be your front doors.

You were planning to find a florist this morning, as well as find a garden supply store so that you would be able to visit Viviane later in the week.

Rella had told you of a nice florist who was on the south side of the Sidra, just west of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, so you were making your way there.

The streets were rather slick this morning, so you took your time in getting to the florist’s shop, as Mor had said, there was nothing quite like eating shit before a meeting or going somewhere- which you’d had more than your fair share of in the past month and a half, running around town so often.

Finally you reached the shop, painted a sage green on the outside, and there was a garden along the side of it that you could see wrapped around to the back as well.

You walked inside, making sure to stomp the snow from your boots before you entered. At the counter was a beautiful high fae, with lovely light golden brown hair in a messy bun atop her head, a few strands escaping it and framing her gorgeous face.

“Hello,” you said with a wave as you made your way to the counter. “My name is Y/N, Rella told me that you’re a florist?” You asked hesitantly.

“Rella sent you? That was so sweet of her, make sure to tell her thank you for me, Y/N! My name is Elain, it’s lovely to meet you.” She stuck out her hand, and you got a lovely breeze of her scent, jasmine and honey- another omega. You took her hand, surprised at the grip that the delicate looking fae had. “Did you need a florist for something?”

You nodded your head, answering “Yes, I’m opening a bakery in the next couple of weeks, and I was hoping you would be able to supply seasonal flowers every week.”

“Yes, I should be able to do that. Do you have a color scheme in mind at all, or just the seasonal aspect?”

“Jus the seasonal flowers, any color combination will be lovely, I’m sure.”

Elain smiles at you, her soft chocolate eyes crinkling at the edges slightly. “Very well, Y/N. Do you know how many bouquets you’d like weekly, and a price range?”

“I suppose I’d need…” you thought on how many tables you had inside of your bakery, as well at the mantle of the fireplace. “A dozen bouquets every week, I believe. And price wise… I’m not really sure, do you have a set type of plan?” You asked, feeling unsure.

“Yes, for a dozen bouquets my base price would be around 25 gold marks a week, and for slightly larger bouquets or more rare types of flowers, it could get up to double that.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I think that I’ll let you choose whichever flowers look best together, but I don’t need very large bouquets.”

Elain pulled a contract from beneath her counter, along with a quill and pot of ink. She wrote in the details of your request, then slid the paper over to you.

You read it over, then signed it and slid the page back to Elain. You handed your bank card to her, and she pressed it to her ledger before passing it back to you. “Alright, you’re all set up to start your deliveries, when you know the exact date just come back and let me know, okay?”

You nodded your head, then finally looked around the rest of her shop. There were large bags filled with dirt, gardening tools, large displays of seeds, and even a few types of planters on display. “Oh, you sell gardening supplies too? That’s perfect!” You said, happy to have likely found everything you needed to complete your garden.

“Yes, we even have carts that you can borrow or purchase to take everything home,” Elain said, already moving from behind the counter. “Are you starting a garden, as well?” She asked.

“Yes, just a small one for a few plants and herbs I need for my baked goods,” you replied, already moving to look at the types of dirt she had on offer.

Perfect. Elain already carried dirt from the Winter Court, exactly what you needed for your plants.

“I’ll take- oh, I think ten bags of the Winter dirt, please,” you said, hoping that it would be enough to fill up your planters. “And I’ll purchase a cart as well, that will probably be handy for just about all of my shopping for the bakery,” you said with a chuckle. Elain brought a cart over, and the two of you loaded ten large bags of dirt into it.

You also grabbed a few different sizes of hand shovels and a couple of watering cans, putting them into your cart.

“Is that everything you’re needing today?” Elain asked as you approached the counter once more.

“Yes, Elain.” You handed your bank card over, and tucked it back into the collar of your dress once she gave it back. “Thank you so much, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” you said, moving to push your cart through the front door.

“Did you need any help with your garden at all?” Elain asked before you left.

“Not at the moment, I just need to fill my planters with dirt today. But in the next week I’ll be transplanting some things from the Winter Court,” you replied, and her brown eyes lit up.

“Would you like some help?” Elain asked brightly. “I’ve been so bored during the winter, there’s not much to tend to, I’d love to help you out,” she said, with so much hope in her voice you couldn’t refuse.

“That would be lovely, Elain. I’ll come and get you once I have the plants back here, alright?”

Elain beamed at you. “Sounds like a plan, Y/N. I’m free all of this Wednesday, if that would end up working for you. If not, I’m sure I’ll be able to slip away for a little bit,” Elain suggested.

“I’ll try and get the plants here by Wednesday, Elain. Thank you again!” You said as you pushed your cart into the outdoors.

Luckily, the cart seemed to be enchanted to have the snow speared from its path, and you made it back to your home without much trouble.

Now the hard part: getting all of the dirt upstairs and into the planters.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

It took you a few hours to finish the planters off, and you were more than ready to wash the dirt from your skin by the time three in the afternoon rolled around, but you forced yourself to write a letter to Viviane, asking to come and grab the plants Wednesday morning before you did so.

You ran hot water in the tub, then let it fill up while you stripped your clothes from your skin and placed them in your laundry bin. You slipped into the tub, loving how your wings were able to sink beneath the water comfortably as well.

It was the first time they would have a proper wash in over a month, and you were looking forward to how soft and fluffy your feather would feel afterwards.

Taking your time, you spent over an hour in the bath carefully washing the first and debris from your wings, refilling the tub once so you could rinse clean. Afterwards, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, one that was so soft that you had bought all of your towels from the same vendor, even for the bakery, in varying shades of blues, pinks, and purples.

A reply from Viviane had landed on your desk while you were bathing, confirming that she would pick you up in front of Mor’s townhome at eight on Wednesday morning.

You’d considered buying baking supplies and bakeware today, but after the hauling of dirt you were too tired, and nothing sounded better than getting a takeout from Sevenda’s and curling up on the couch in front of your fireplace with the third Healer of Time book.

But getting Sevenda’s would require going outside again, and going across the Sidra…

You had the ingredients for the chicken curry you had made on your second night in Velaris, and that, you supposed, would be less daunting of a task than leaving your home.

You got dressed in a soft sweater dress, another recent purchase of yours, and let yourself read for a half an hour on the couch, until your stomach was growling at you to loudly to continue ignoring. Fine. I will make the damn curry.

You stood up from your couch and went into the kitchen, chopping and stirring and waiting until finally you had your dinner. Your cooking skills had improved in the month and a half since you’d made this recipe, and you could tell in the taste of the curry.

Seated at the table, you read while you ate, so lost in the gripping story that you hadn’t realized you were done with your food until you ate a spoonful of nothing.

“Oh,” you said to yourself, then got up and rinsed your bowl out. You were so tired already, and it was barely six in the evening.

Today would be a good day to start getting back into a baking sleep schedule, if you were so tired already… And then you would be able to get up bright and early in the morning, make yourself some breakfast, then head to the Palace of Bone and Salt to buy enough baking supplies to make each of your recipes three times, to make sure you still have all of the techniques you need down pat before your grand opening.

Grand opening. You could hardly believe it, you’re so close to your dream becoming a reality, and it’s been almost nothing but fun the entire journey.

That was definitely in part to the wonderful fae you’d met in Velaris, each one that you worked with you helpful and friendly. You truly couldn’t have asked for a better start to your new life here.

You allowed yourself to read until seven thirty, then forced yourself to get into bed.

It took a little while for you to fall asleep, even with being tired, but soon enough you drifted off, thoughts filled with bags of flour and the pastries you would make tomorrow.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Picking out your bakeware took you longer than expected.

Did you want glass or metal bowls? Pink or blue ceramic? Wooden utensils or metal utensils? You were so indecisive, trying to choose between whatever you liked most and trying to have a color scheme- but then you realized it doesn’t matter, all of them will be used for the same purpose.

And if you love all of your bakeware, then who cares if they don’t match?

So you’d gotten possibly double of everything that you needed, but that would just make it easier for you to do more batches or different things at once in the future. And you’re fine with that.

You’d carefully made your way home, trying your best not to break any of your new dishes.

Your only casualty was a cute mixing bowl you’d picked up for your personal kitchen, it was pink with little duckies all around it. You would get another at some point.

It took you two hours to have everything arranged the way you wanted, and immediately after getting your kitchen set up you went out again pushing your cart back to the Palace of Bone and Salt to get your baking ingredients. That shopping trip took you a bit over an hour, and by the time you got home you were tired once more, but more than ready to start baking again.

You had never gone much over a week without baking, ever since you were six years old. You felt like apart of you had been ripped away, until your hands finally sank into dough once more.

It was magical, how happy baking makes you. You baked for the rest of the night, probably eating far too many pastries for dinner, but you don’t care, because they’re pastries you baked, in your bakery.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Two days later, it was Wednesday, and Viviane had picked you up as promised.

“So, how’s Velaris treating you so far?” She asked as the two of you were on your knees in the greenhouse, working to free the last of three hornberry bushes you needed.

“It’s been amazing so far, the change of pace as been absolutely wonderful, and getting closer to the grand opening of the bakery I’m getting more and more excited! And everyone has been so kind so far, I feel so welcome.”

Your four combined hands finally pulled the bush out of the ground, and you carefully placed it in the cart holding the rest of your plants.

“That’s so great to hear, Y/N. I’m glad you’re settling in well, you deserve it after all you’ve been through,” Viviane said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Did you need any other plants, dear?”

You looked over the cart thoroughly. “Nope, that’s all I need Viv. Thank you so much!”

“Of course, Y/N! You know this section of the garden practically belongs to you, right? You and your grandmother are the reason our birth rates and overall health as a court have gone up. If you need anything else from here, just write me again, okay?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully at her. “Oh, by the way, the money you gave me was far too much,” you said, and Viviane opened her mouth to speak. “But it is very much appreciated, Viv. It’s made getting the bakery perfect so easy.”

Viviane grinned at you. “I knew it was the right choice, telling you once you were already in Velaris,” she said with a laugh.

“That’s true, I would never have accepted it,” you agreed, chuckling along with her.

The two of you stood from where you were kneeling, dusting the dirt from your dresses. “Are you ready to see my bakery?” You asked, holding your arm out for Viviane to take.

“I have been since before it was built, Y/N,” Viviane replied, taking your arm and winnowing the both of you back to Mor’s townhouse. “Lead the way, dear.”

The two of you trekked back to your bakery, taking longer than usual with the cart’s wheels snagging on the snow.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s perfect!”

Your front doors had been delivered yesterday, perfectly depicting the change from dawn to day to night while snow falls over the Sidra, more beautiful than you had thought it could be.

“Isn’t it?” You asked dreamily, still slightly disbelieving that it was real, even when you’d been living here for the past five days. “Come on, let me show you the inside,” you said, unlocking the doors and dragging the cart inside after Viviane had entered.

“This is so cute! I wish you were open right now, I’ve been dying for one of your hornberry tarts. Leo does a good job, but I don’t think he’ll ever get them perfectly like yours, Y/N,” Viviane said, referencing the pasty chef you’d trained before moving.

“Well, if you come back for the opening or any time after, I’ll make sure you get a few to take home with you. I’m sure Kallias would like some as well,” you remarked with a smile, recalling how fond the High Lord was of your pastries.

“He’ll probably join me once you’re open, he won’t say it but I know he misses your baking. He does this cute little pouty face whenever something doesn’t taste perfect,” Viviane said, always ready to talk about her alpha. “Well, I’d better get going Y/N, I have a few meetings I need to get to, but let me know when your opening is and I’ll do my best to stop by.”

“I will, Viv. Winnow safe, okay?” You said as the two of you hugged, taking in one last breath of her calming snow and cranberry scent.

“I will, dear. Have fun planting!” Viviane said, winnowing away after giving a little wave goodbye.

You immediately set to taking the plants upstairs as quickly as you could, wanting to get Elain over at a reasonable hour.

It was eleven thirty when you finished, each and every last plant taken up the spiral staircase and placed next to the planter it would be replanted in.

You washed your hands, then put your winter wear on and headed into the city, going straight for Elain’s shop. When you arrived, the door was locked, so you knocked loudly on it. Elain came to the door a moment later, already dressed to leave the indoors.

“Lovely, Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it today!” Elain said excitedly, locking her shop up behind her. “And I get to see your bakery, I’m excited for that too!”

The two of you made your way to your bakery slowly, the two of you appreciating the people milling about as you walked.

“This is a gorgeous bakery you’ve got, Y/N,” Elain said once the two of you were standing in front of it, you unlocking the door.

“Thank you, Elain,” you said, swinging the door open and letting Elain inside.

“Oh, the inside is so adorable! Now I have such good ideas for your bouquets, after seeing the space. I’m thinking a blue flower in every weeks bunches, keep the winter theme going a bit.”

“I love that idea, Elain, that’s perfect!” You led her to the kitchen and up the stairs, and she rushed towards the garden.

“This is amazing! Who did your enchantments?” Elain asked once she was in the garden, the air even colder than it was outside.

“Gabrella, in the Palace of Flame and Steel,” you replied, joining her in the garden. “And this is my little garden,I’m excited to get everything planted. And please, don’t feel obligated to stay at any point, though I do truly appreciate your help.”

“I love to see new plants, and I’ve never seen any of these before. I’m guessing they’re native to the Winter Court, with the dirt you bought and the climate you’ve got here,” Elain said, hitting the nail on the head.

“You would be right, Elain. I use all of them in my pastries. All of them are pretty easy to plant, just make sure their roots are covered and then water them until the soil is completely soaked,” you informed Elain, already kneeling in front of one of the planters.

The two of you got to work, Elain watched you plant one of the bushes before moving to her own, planting it with expert hands.

As you worked, the two of you spoke of your lives, mainly your hopes for the near future. You spoke of your bakery, how excited you were to see it finally in action, and how the people of Velaris would react to your business. Elain talked about her mate and alpha, Lucien, and how they were hoping to have children soon.

“We’ve been trying rather vigorously,” Elain tittered, and you blushed along with her.

“Well, I cannot promise that it will work for sure, but I do make a fertility pastry with these berries,” you say, pointing to the spiky berries on the hornberry bush that you were currently planting. “We have seen a significant increase in births the Winter Court over the past five years, though that could be due to the end of everyone being imprisoned.”

“Anything at all that will help, we’ve been trying for the past five years with no luck so far. As long as it tastes decent, I am willing to try anything, I’ve wanted to be a mother for so long,” Elain said, sighing after she did.

“I believe they’re rather delicious, but you’ll just have to see for yourself,” you laughed.

Within two hours, you and Elain were sitting back on your hands, looking at your now completed garden. “Thank you for your help, Elain. Would you like to go to lunch with me?” You asked, wanting to thank her in some way other than words, and you had a feeling she would turn down any monetary payment you would offer.

“I would love to, Y/N. Did you have a specific place in mind?” She asked, already getting to her feet. You followed her up, then lead her over to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from your hands.

“There’s this great noodle place on the west end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, if you’re interested? Or we can go someplace else, if you’d prefer,” you offered.

“Noodles sound great,” Elain said, smiling softly at you.

“Noodles it is, then.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Lunch with Elain was nice, and you walked her back over to her shop before heading home. The two of you had gotten to know each other better, and you were happy to know that you might already have three omega friends in your new city, very different compared to your sold one in Winter- Viviane.

When you got back to your home, slightly surprised to see Marcus outside of your doors.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are!” He said, walking over to meet you. “I was… I was hoping that I could ask you something.” For the first time since you had met him, Marcus sounded nervous.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me- on a date?” He asked.

You hadn’t seen it coming. You’d enjoyed his company, yes, he was fun to talk to and nice to be around.

“I… uhm…” you started, unsure of what to say.

“Look, there’s no strings attached, if you hate it halfway through, or even right when I pick you up, we can act like it never happened, hmm?”

You considered it for a moment. Would it really be so bad to go on a date with a handsome, friendly alpha?

“Okay, yes, I’ll go out with you. What night were you thinking?” You asked, looking up at Marcus nervously.

“Would tomorrow night at six work for you?”

You nodded your head. “Yes, tomorrow would be fine,” you respond. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow night at six, Y/N,” Marcus said before departing from you with a wave, leaving you to slink inside of your bakery and contemplate what had just happened.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“You’re going on a date with Marcus? Oo, tell me what you’re going to wear!” Mor said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

“Just a dress and some tights, Mor, nothing fancy,” you said after swallowing your bite of salad.

“Well, at least tell me you’re excited for the date?”

“I guess so.” Mor stared at you, disbelief in her eyes as she chewed the last bite of her sandwich. “What? Marcus is nice, really nice, I just don’t feel any kind of spark towards him, that’s all.”

“At least give the male an honest chance, alright?” Mor asked of you before paying for the tab. “I’ve got to run, but next week you will tell me all about the date, yes?” You nodded your head. “Good. I’ll see you next Thursday, have a good date today doll,” Mor said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving the restaurant.

You finished your salad, then walked the short distance home from the restaurant in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.

Perhaps you should be getting ready excitedly at this point already, but you knew in your heart that you wouldn’t find that spark with Marcus. After all, you’d known each other nearly two months at that point, and you’d never looked at him as anything other than a friend.

But you supposed that going on a date, even one that you know you won’t go out with again, could be fun.

So you baked for a few hours, then took a long bath to make sure their was no flour left on your body. Getting dressed was easy, you simply slipped on one of your old favorites, a cute pink wool sweater dress that goes to your knees and some warm tights. You put on a little bit of eyeliner and a tiny bit of lipstick, but it only took you ten minutes to get ready. It was only five thirty.

You picked up your book and read, already on the fourth book of the series. By five fifty five, you had on your winter wear and boots and were downstairs.

Marcus knocked on the door exactly at six, looking handsome as usual.

“Shall we go?” He asked, extending an arm to you.

You took it, then said “Yes, lead the way Marcus,” with a gentle smile.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The date was fun, that was true. But you felt no kind of connection with Marcus besides that of a friend. He seemed to sense as much when he dropped you off at your door later that night.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Y/N.”

“I did too, Marcus, but…” you trailed off, unsure of how to say it.

“But you don’t feel the connection?” Marcus asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “It’s alright, I had to take my chance, right? An omega as amazing and wonderful as you, well, you’re a catch to any alpha with eyes and ears, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Marcus. And I’m so sorry, I wish it could have worked out. You truly are a magnificent person, and I’ve loved getting to know you over the past two months. Friends?”

“Friends,” Marcus confirmed, giving you a brief hug before pulling away. “I’ll see you at your bakery’s opening, when was it again?”

“It will be next Friday, I’ve decided,” you declared brightly, glad that things with Marcus could still be pleasant.

“I’ll see you next Friday, Y/N,” Marcus said before walking away, leaving you on your doorstep once again.

You sighed and headed inside, going straight up to your bedroom to get undressed and wash your face. After you had, you flopped into bed, wishing that you’d been attracted to such a kind, helpful alpha.

But you’d find someone, at some point. You would meet at the right time, the perfect time, and everything would fall into place from there, you were sure of it.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“It didn’t go well, did it?” Mor asked as you sat down across from her in the noodle restaurant.

You sighed. “No, it was a fine outing, just not a good date,” you said. “I did have fun with him, there just isn’t that connection there, you know?”

The two of you ordered quickly when the server came over, then went back to your conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it one more date?"

You nodded your head. “I’m sure, Mor. There’s no point to it, if I haven’t felt any kind of attraction in the two months we’ve known each other.”

It was Mor’s turn to sigh. “Okay, okay. Do you have any other alphas that you might like to date?” Mor asked, wiggling her brows at you.

“None that I can think of Mor, you can tell Viv that I’m happily single at the moment.”

Your food arrived then, and the two of you tucked into your food, both of you humming happily at the taste.

“So, my bakery opens tomorrow,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence while eating, and Mor quickly swallowed her current bite.

“Tomorrow? Oh, that’s so exciting Y/N! What time do you open? I’ll try to get there near then, but no promises, I might be sleeping in.l

“That’s fine, Mor, I’m opening at seven so I don’t really expect you to be awake at that time,” you laughed, knowing that the alpha was the opposite of a morning person.

“Mother no, I would never be up that early for anyone,” Mor giggled. “Have you sent out flyers or anything yet?”

“Yes, I had some pamphlets printed up with the menu, they’re being distributed around town as we speak!” You said brightly.

“That’s good, that’s good. I hope everything runs smoothly, Y/N, you deserve it after all of the hard work your put in.”

“Thank you, Mor. I just hope that people like my pastries.”

“Y/N, just based on that little sampler basket you brought me at the beginning of the week, the people here will go nuts over your bakery,” Mor reassured you.

You had brought a basket of pastries to every person that had helped you in starting your bakery: Mor, Marcus, Rella, Arana, Oren, and the stained glass artist, Wren. You’d actually brought five baskets to Marcus’s office, enough so that he could have a basket of his own, and plenty left for the crew that had worked so hard to bring your dream together.

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear that. I hope that you can make it tomorrow, I believe that Kallias and Viviane will be stopping in later in the day, so long as nothing pressing comes up.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you and them tomorrow, then, Y/N,” Mor said as she gave you a quick goodbye hug, her citrus and cinnamon scent washing over you again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mor,” you said with a smile, managing to get your bank card down on the bill first.

You walked home alone, knowing that you needed to make sure everything was in order for the next morning as you went, taking a little longer to savor the warmth of the sun. It had started to warm a little bit, and most of the snow was cleared from the streets at this point.

You used your three hours before your self imposed bed time to check everything twice and make sure you had enough ingredients for everything you needed to bake in the morning, as well as plenty of tea and coffee for people to drink.

Your time to sleep went by too quickly, and soon enough it was four in the morning. You took a quick bath, then donned a comfortable lilac dress with a back scooped low enough for your wings to be free, something you’ll want as you will most likely be spending the next fifteen hours working in the kitchens and the front of house.

Finally, you thought, so happy that your grand opening is finally here.

You rushed downstairs, turning on the fae lights so that you could see your work.

Most of the pastries were done proving, and ready to go in the oven. You had plenty of your winter berry jams ready to go, all you need to do is make more dough and get it proving.

You spend the next two and a half hours working quickly and efficiently, the rush that baking on a large scale gave you fueling you on, faster than ever before.

You had just finished stocking up the pastry display cases, medicinal on the left and typical pastries on the right, when Elain showed up at the front door, bright eyes and perfect hair even at the early hour, You rushed over to unlock the door, opening it to let the sweet fae inside, and you flipped the open sign over as you shut the door.

“It smells absolutely wonderful in here Y/N. Lucien is bringing the rest of our family around, I made them all promise to show up after they devoured that basket of pastries you delivered to my house,” Elain said, shaking her head lightly at them. “I was able to try that hornberry pastry thought, it was divine. Tell me you’ve got plenty ready to go?” Elain asked.

“Oh yes, I’m already thinking it will be my most popular pastry, I’ve got two dozen ready already and another five dozen in the process of being made,” you reassured her, already going behind the counter to grab her a pastry and place it on a plate. “Here you go, and if you ever want to take some extras home, just let me know,” you said with a smile, loving that she immediately took a bite of the pastry.

“Seriously, these are so good,” Elain said, right as a crowd of people pushed through the front doors.

In first was a red headed male, who made his way straight to Elain, placing a kiss on her cheek and swiping the pastry from her fingers. Lucien, presumably.

Next in was a tall, bulky Illyrian with hazel eyes, holding hands with a beautiful fae- Nesta?

“Y/N?” Nesta asked, making her way over to your counter after she met your eyes. “I didn’t know you were the one Elain was working with, what a small world.”

You nodded your head, meeting her strong steel grey eyes. “Yes it is, I didn’t know that you were related to Elain, either. It’s nice to see you again, I’m hoping I can make it to that book club of yours in the next couple of weeks,” you said.

“That would be nice, Y/N."

“Introduce me,” the large Illyrian said after gently nudging Nesta, having followed her over.

Nesta rolled her eyes, a small but affectionate smile on her lips as she said “This is Cassian, my mate.”

Cassian stuck his large hand out for you to take, and when you did his hand practically swallowed yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Now, am I allowed to order right away or should I wait a little bit?” The alpha asked, eyes already turned to the pastry cases.

“You can order right now, if you’d like,” you responded, letting him look over the options for a moment.

“Oh, Nes, we are so getting the hornberry pastries, remember that little promise that you made to me?” Cassian asked, turning his mouth to Nesta’s ear, whispering something that made the fae’s face turn beet red before she nodded. “We will take two of those, plus three croissants.”

You handed them their pastries on a large plate, telling them “Bring it up here when you’re done, or if you need a to go bag.” They left the counter, Nesta still blushing profusely, even when they sat down.

You looked back to the door, seeing Mor and another Illyrian next to her, this one with shadows swirling around him, occasionally dipping into his ears. They moved over to the right side pastry case, peering through the glass at what you had on offered. You glanced away from them and back to the door, and that’s when you saw them-

The most devastatingly beautiful male and female you had ever seen, power thrumming off of them in gentle, soothing waves, and their combined scents washed over you- citrus, sea, jasmine and lilacs. A perfect, heart stopping blend of two alpha scents that set your mind and body on fire in the best possible way. You felt so awake now, so present as you stared at them both, trying to memorize their faces as quickly as you could.

This. This is the feeling you wanted to feel when you went on a date with someone.

The couple moved closer to you, and Mor introduced them.

“Y/N, this is Rhys and Feyre, our High Lord and Lady.”

Oh, Mother, you are so fucked.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Feyre said, extending two beautifully tattooed hands to grasp yours. “Mor has told us so much about you, it’s nice to finally put a face to her kind words.”

Your heart nearly stopped, you were sure of it. “It’s lovely to meet you as well, High Lady-”

“Oh none of that, please call us Feyre and Rhys,” Rhys said, his strong voice pulling your eyes away from Feyre’s hypnotic ocean eyes. His were just as mesmerizing, violet with flecks are stars in them, just as beautiful as his mate’s.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Rhys and Feyre,” you corrected, your hands still captive in Feyre’s.

“Alright you two, stop hogging my friend, I’d like to have one of her delicious pastries for breakfast,” Mor said, breaking the spell the two alphas had over you, and you finally looked away from Rhys’s eyes to lock onto Mor’s.

“Did you know what you wanted, Mor?”

“Yes, I’ll have one of those cute little cheese danishes, and a cup of coffee with some cream please.”

You nodded your head, then set to grabbing Mor’s order. With your head turned from the group, though, you couldn’t help but close your eyes.

You are so fucked. They are mates, they are a couple, you will never have them. Remember that, you thought to yourself, before turning around, Mor’s coffee and danish in hand

Mor tapped her bank card to your ledger before you could stop her, sticking her tongue out at you. “You can’t make me not pay, Y/N, I just won’t do it,” she said while smiling at you, then left the counter to take a seat in front of the fireplace, where Elain and Lucien were now sitting.

You turned your head back to the couple that you knew would stay in your thoughts for days, maybe even weeks to come. “Did you two know what you wanted?”

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

[sluttyten]

I was working on a new fic that I was really looking forward to, but in light of recent revelations, I'm gonna be taking a step back I think

also i removed him from the member masterlist and all of his fics, excluding things like YIMA and the poly series which I'm considering re-editing to get rid of him

[anonomi]

sketches of my favourte fic and ship ever <3 <3

[sh1nsoukoku]

quadruple soukoku’s text messages if they were in a semi-functioning poly relationship

[takaraphoenix]

So it turns out that Steter, beyond being an excellent ship with a delightful fandom, is also a gateway drug into Stetopher and I just feel like someone should have given me a heads up before I decend into another ship :/

Guess who's writing her first Stetopher fic :D

[delphi-shield]

Close in the Distance // Poly Drabbles

multichara x gn!reader wc: ~1650 characters included: jill, leon, chris, claire, rebecca, carlos, ada pairings highlighted: jill & leon, jill/claire, jill/chris, jill/carlos, chris/leon, chris/rebecca, leon/ada, leon/claire ada refers to the reader as gorgeous but i consider that a pretty gender neutral expression, ymmv. i'm kind of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks with this, but i hope you enjoy it! i know i had fun writing it. i'm gonna go see fnaf and play splatoon until my eyes bleed lmao

Ada & Leon

Ada runs just as easily as she pulls you down to her bed. Leon leaves you with much more reluctance, but he leaves all the same. The note he leaves pinned to the fridge with a fish-shaped magnet from your last vacation (Roatán, blissfully uninterrupted by Leon’s work. Ada’s shadow darkened your doorstep two days before your flight home. She arrived in the night; you think you dreamt her arrival, her muted argument with Leon, but when you wake it’s with her arm draped across your waist. "Stay put, gorgeous," she tells you, her voice a sleep-addled rasp at your ear, "Leon's getting breakfast.") dripping with remorse and guilt.

On a rare reunion, you slip away to give them time to themselves and Ada reels you back in with an arm around your waist, tucking you securely between the two of them. They race for the same cheesy joke just to hear you laugh and exchange warm glances over your shoulder. You pray one day you will wake and they will both be there. You pray that one day you stop collecting the pieces they leave behind to remember them by.

Claire & Leon

Claire and Leon are in and out of each other's lives so often that you could tell time by it. Thanksgiving together and Christmas apart, a New Year's reunion obfuscated by the fizzle of fireworks overhead. Claire holds your hand in the crowd, Leon’s hand at the small of her back to guide the both of you. She leans close to be heard over the cheering of the crowd, promising to kiss you first at midnight. Leon doesn’t seem to hear, but he spins you away from her when the clock hits midnight, stealing the first kiss of the year, smiling against your lips as Claire whines and smacks his arm.

Days later, Leon tells you, "we're both in the doghouse now," when you come home to an argument and refuse to pick a side. Centrism is the biggest crime of them all to Claire, and Leon’s apologies are in short supply. You fall asleep with him on the couch, and when you wake with a pillow under your head and Claire’s humming drifting from the kitchen, you know that you are absolved.

Chris & Leon

Chris and Leon thought this arrangement was fine until their own unresolved feelings bubbled to the surface, their entire friendship recontextualized in the span of seconds over cheap beer. You lean against Chris’ shoulder, watching the gears in Leon’s head turning. A realization years in the making happens in the span of minutes for you, and it takes only a little bit of careful probing to understand that it’s mutual. 

They both drag their feet, men who know how easy it is to wreck something as fragile as this, neither willing for their hands to be the ones that break this time. To be direct is to be dismissed. Chris brushes off assurances that you don’t mind and Leon has told you in no uncertain terms to drop it. You feign tiredness one night and slip away, leave them to themselves, and like clockwork, they ask to speak with you about something the following week. Smug is an understatement. Your playful ribbing is worth putting up with if it means the three of you can move forward together - even if it means the porch swing is a little more cramped from now on.

"Don't let that one go," Chris teases, his eyes squinting in a smile.

"I don't think I can," Leon says. He means it to be a joke about the way you cling to his arm, but his voice too soft, too enamored for the intended effect, his eyes too warm.

Jill & Leon

Jill and Leon see too much of themselves in each other to ever understand the appeal, but god, do they love you. For a long time they operated on separate schedules. You had called it a custody arrangement once, a joke that you came to regret with every fiber of your being because the both of them had latched onto it and neither of them know how to let a joke die with dignity. The first sign of change is a text from Jill, sent at three in the morning (a difference in timezones she didn’t bother to calculate, you’re sure). An offer, their stupid custody joke to break the ice -  I know it’s your weekend, but that movie they want to see is coming out Saturday and I’ll be stateside. Do you mind if we go? You can come too.

It hadn’t been a good movie, some forgettable action movie you had laughed about all the way home, but ever since that night they had been more open to nights together. That’s how you wound up with your legs over Leon’s lap, your head against Jill’s thigh, Leon’s thumb tracing a lazy pattern against your ankle and Jill’s fingers carding gently through your hair. Their hands meet in the bowl of popcorn and Jill relents. Leon insists, no, after you, his tone as dramatic as the sweep of his hand. You can envision the way Jill rolls her eyes without picking your head up, and before they can devolve into a familiar back and forth, you chime in sleepily. "What, are you guys five? If you were going to get cooties, you’d get it from me."

Jill & Chris

“Wrong side,” Jill reminds you, indicating to her own ear. She doesn’t even need to look up from her breakfast. You click your tongue and move to Chris’ left instead, repeating your question louder, clearer. They move so fluidly around each other, nearly two decades of trust informing every word, every look, every action. At times it feels like they inhabit the same body. It's all you can do to try and fall in step with them. They make space, slow their pace, guide you where they have to. Chris is ever the worrier, but it’s Jill who watches you like a hawk when the three of you are out, who grips your wrist loosely and nudges you up with them, never letting you fall behind. Unhurried time together is short on supply, but you cherish every moment of quiet, every laugh, every old story they have to explain to you, you cherish the hurt and the pain, the grief that they try to borrow from each other, all the things they would rather forget yet choose to trust you with.

Jill & Claire

Jill is an expert in handling Redfields, but she can take them apart just as easily. She says she’ll teach you one day. A well-placed ‘got it out of your system’ during an argument starts Claire’s rant all over again. A hand at the nape of her neck, curling her into Jill’s side to calm her. Jill’s methods are effective, but they’re hers. You weave your own way between them, fingers interlocking with Claire’s, palm flat against Jill’s, the way each of them prefer. Jill will drink her coffee anyway she gets it, things like preferences and personal taste feeling like an afterthought to her after so long of nothing but survival, but you see the scrunch of her nose when it’s too dark, too bitter. You slip sugars and cream one cup at a time until you find the perfect blend, and it doesn’t take Claire much longer to catch on to your discovery. There was peace before, and there can be peace again.

Jill & Carlos

"Not that one," you tell Jill, swatting her hands away as she tries to pack one of your many stuffed animals up, the small army having taken over most of the bed. "Carlos got me that one." Jill rolls her eyes, muttering that they're all from Carlos. His absence is filled with plush toys, cheap, soft substitutes for his presence - but at least he tries to fill the void. Jill becomes a ghost when she's away for work, insisting her silence is for your benefit. She comes back to you battered, vacant, and she asks you what you've been up to as if she might fill herself with your memories instead.

If it weren’t for Carlos, you would have no idea how she’s really doing. He has her back, he assures you, and you wonder if he’s reminding himself as well, if the distance she forces (for your own good, she repeats, her tone firmer) bothers him as much as it bothers you. Pulling her back to you isn’t always easy, but Carlos is a steady presence at your side. His gifts for Jill are fewer and farther between - Jill told him to cool it, by his own admission - but you notice as she thins out the stuffed animal militia, she leaves the dog plushie he had gotten her right where it is.

Chris & Rebecca

Rebecca drags you through the aisles of a department store, stuffing colorful paper decorations into the cart you push. Chris is coming home - properly coming home, not just a quick stopover between flights. Rebecca wants to surprise him, and you worry he’ll be too tired. You worry his assignment took a turn for the worse, that the last thing he needs is a fuss when he’s barely had time to process the aftermath. Rebecca assures you it’s fine. She insists she wouldn’t be doing this if everything hadn’t gone well. You reach for the pink and blue streamers on the top shelf, dropping them with the mish-mash of other supplies in the cart as she tells you more and more about the assignment. “I think that’s supposed to be classified, Becca,” you remind her. She shushes you, a finger pressed to her lips. You make a detour to pick up a case of beer, making a bet with Rebecca on how long it will take Chris to ask for a cold one. Chris arrives on time for once, no delayed flights, a blissfully short debriefing at base. He drops his duffle bag the second the door is shut, eyes cutting to the fridge. His arm winds around your shoulders, tugging you into a hug. 

“Guess you missed me,” he says, taking in the decorations. Rebecca patters in from the kitchen, spreading her arms wide to gesture at the apartment, transformed briefly into a discount Party City. He’s tired, it’s clear, but he laughs all the same. It only takes five minutes - as you predicted, shooting a successful smirk at Rebecca - for him to ask, “Hey, any beer in the fridge?”

[ecto-stone]

Pac-Queen of our Heart.

[makethatelevenrings]

“Ghost scrubs his hands raw before touching his girl” “ghost wears gloves so the blood on his hands doesn’t taint her skin” ghost deserves a girl who licks the blood off his face and smiles

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

looking back on the fic I've written in the last few years and my own sexuality journey has made me realize that there is an argument that poly folk and ace/aro folk process love in a lot of the same ways, like the idea that you can have significant, life-defining relationships with different people and you get something important and sometimes even a similar flavor from each relationship but each one is still fundamentally different and significant in its own way and sometimes you don't want sex but you do want hugs and your partner may be having sex with their other partner but that does not make your relationship any less important because they come back to hug you and having more hearts bound up in your own is never a bad thing, because being loved no matter the form is never a bad thing, you are lovable and you can love so many people and having a heart overflowing with love for other people and things and the universe just means that you're healing and finding the people who fit you in whatever way that comes and there will always be someone cooking in the kitchen filling your heart and stomach no matter what and in this essay i will-