#i just really wanna show off these fondant creations

[kateis-cakeis]

Kept forgetting to show pics, but this was what my sister and I did for my birthday cake this year.

A lovely Arthur's mother's sigil, and the dragon Balinor carved for Merlin. Super proud of how both these turned out, the dragon's head particularly has so much detail, my sister really did well with that one, especially the ears!!!

And the sigil. I still have it, I haven't eaten it, the fondant is still okay, I almost wanna cast it in resin or something because look at it!!!!!! It's as close to the sigil as you can get with some grey fondant XD

To top it off, we got blue fondant to cover the cake because, ohhh I don't know, reminded me of water, of a lake, just seemed fitting for a merthur cake ;)

[tellmealovestory]

Cake

Summary: The wedding plans continue as you and Bucky try to decide on a cake flavor.

Notes: It’s been awhile and I’m a little rusty. Part of Something More.

Warnings: Food mentions obviously, but other than that none.

“Bucky!” You laughed, nudging his knee beneath the table. “You’re supposed to share that.”

Mouth full with red velvet cake and cream cheese frosting didn’t stop him from answering. “Maybe you should eat it faster.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“You sure about that?” A goofy grin on his face, a dab of white frosting stuck to the corner of his mouth and you couldn’t believe this was the man child you were about to spend the rest of your life with.

You couldn’t wait.

Lightly swatting his hand away from the sliver of a sample he had left you with you scooped the red velvet cake onto your fork, popping it into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully as you tried to figure out if you liked it more or less than the previous sample; a simple vanilla bean cake that had left your mouth watering when you paired it with the best buttercream frosting you had ever tasted.

Without waiting for you or Ava, your expert baker to explain the next sample he dived into the next piece, a carrot cake paired with the same cream cheese frosting you were giving serious consideration to marrying if your marriage with Bucky didn't work out.

“Yes I’m sure,” you laughed, answering his question. “We’re supposed to be taking our time and keeping track of what we like and don’t like.” You gestured down to the small spiral notebook that rested between your elbows. Two neat columns with a pros and cons list for each of the samples you were working your way through.

So far the only thing written down was a note of no written in Bucky’s messy handwriting next to the mint chocolate chip cake. And next to that in an even sloppier scrawl were the words tastes like toothpaste.

It hadn’t of course, but no matter how much you had tried to convince him of it the mint chocolate cake was out.

“Hard to keep track when all you’re doing is eating the frosting,” he teased, leaning back into the chair, a self satisfied smirk on his face before he thought to add, “Carrot cakes a no.”

Ignoring him you took a sip of water before trying it. Warm spices burst onto your tongue reminding you of autumn days with him by your side and when you bit into a plump raisin you knew that this cake had serious potential of being the one. Closing your eyes for a second you let the spices dance on your tongue as you cut off another sliver.

Carrot cake at a wedding was a polarizing option, but you were willing to take that chance with this piece. It was that good.

“I’m eating more than just the frosting,” you retorted once you swallowed your second bite of cake. It was mostly true.

When you had first started the first bites you had taken were of the frosting, but in your mind it was the best part of the dessert. Whipped frostings, American buttercream, cream cheese, ganache, you weren’t picky. You had always been that way, anytime you went out with Bucky and split a dessert you always dove into the frosting first while he worked his way through the filling. But this wasn't just any dessert, this was your wedding cake, a day you had been thinking about non stop since he had proposed to you on that random Tuesday night. And once you had bit into one of Ava's creations you had been unable to stop eating the cake, each sample somehow better than the last.

“I think the carrot cake has potential and with the cream cheese frosting it could be a hi-,” you started, words getting cut off with a laugh when you turned to Bucky who was shaking his head no, an exaggerated frown on his face.

“Baby, no,” he whined as he set his fork down on the plate with a soft clink. “Nobody likes raisins.”

Parting your lips to interject that you liked raisins, he beat you to it, “‘Cept you. You really wanna serve our friends and family a cake full of raisins?”

Ava interjected, a woman with the patience of a saint when it came to dealing with you and your varied tastes said, "We can omit the raisins. Some people choose to fill it with pineapple and walnuts." Pushing her glasses up her small nose she glanced between you searching for a compromise that would please not only both of you, but also your wedding guests. She was good at her job and as her words sank in you wondered how much extra you'd have to pay her to have her come over and settle your movie night disputes.

At the mention of juicy pineapples and the added crunch of walnuts in an already delicious cake your mouth watered, but Bucky was quick to shut that suggestion down too.

“Nut allergies.”

"You're not allergic to nuts. What about the pineapple at least?"

"What about our guests? No.”

Chewing on your lower lip you knew that he was right, something you weren't thrilled about telling him, but you also knew that it was possible to still have it without adding the nuts or pineapple or even raisins that he was set against.

You had never thought that trying to find a cake for the wedding would be so complicated. Not only did you have to think about yours and Bucky's likes and dislikes, but you also had to take into account potential food allergies of your guests as well as trying to find something that would please the majority if not everyone.

Ava jotted down a quick note and cleared her throat sensing that the carrot cake was a no go even if you weren't ready to give up. Pointing down to the next sample and explaining what it was you half listened, grabbing your pen and in big letters that took up a quarter of the page you wrote yes next to the carrot cake.

“For someone who said they didn’t care about the wedding planning you sure have a lot of opinions, Bucky.”

He chuckled, the tone low and meant only for you he murmured, “What can I say. Picking out a cake is a lot more interesting than choosing silverware and thinking up wedding favors.” Leaning over he pressed his sugar coated lips to the side of our head in a kiss that was as sweet as the frosting you had been inhaling all afternoon.

The last sample lined up was a confetti cake bursting with the bright colors of greens, reds, pinks, oranges, yellows and blues. The small rectangle that sat on the plate made you feel happy just looking at, not even Bucky's amused expression, smirk curling up those stupidly plump lips of his or the memory of the way he had teased you when you first suggested this, asking if this was for your wedding or tenth birthday party could dampen your spirits. Eagerly diving into the piece your eyes closed in bliss and immediately you knew. This was the one.

And even better was the way that Bucky was nodding his head as he swallowed his bite. Finally you thought, a piece that you both had managed to agree on.

Ava beamed a smile at you seeming to know that after an hour of tasting and years in the business the difficult part of her job was almost over. Shuffling through a pile of papers and photographs she slid over a few glossy photos showing the same cake you were eating in different iterations. Naked with minimal frosting, coated in rainbow sprinkles, fondant flowers cascading down the side even one covered in a thick layer of fondant topped with two macarons on top.

"It's not bad," Bucky settled on, popping the last few crumbs into his mouth.

"Could this be the one?" Ava asked, pen poised over her pad, ready to finalize the details.

Licking the frosting from your lips you turned your attention to Bucky. A silent conversation was had, a perk to having known each other most of your lives.

Mentally you went over one more time the samples you had indulged in.

The carrot cake and mint chocolate chip cake were out despite your best attempts at getting him to change his mind. The vanilla bean cake had been simple, but delicious, an instant crowd pleaser as had the red velvet cake, one that had been so moist it had melted as soon as it touched your tongue, much like the double chocolate cake. And there had been the last one and so far your personal favorite, the confetti cake.

The silent conversation stretched on, Ava sat still, pen still poised above her pad before clearing her throat and suggesting, "Of course you don't have to decide today, but the sooner the better."

A shrug of your shoulders as you left the decision up to Bucky.

"We've decided." Mischief danced in his eyes and curled his lips up into a smirk that screamed trouble. “The cream cheese frosting.”

“Excellent choice,” Ava praised, “Which cake are we pairing this with?”

Turning that mischievous look in your direction and with a straight face nonetheless he managed to say, “No cake. Just the frosting.”

Whatever you had thought he was going to say it wasn’t that. Ava had the decency to look bewildered, glancing between you, the poor woman’s expression growing more confused the longer it took you to find your thoughts.

“Bucky!” You spat out, hand slapping his shoulder. Choking back a laugh and willing your face to stop burning you tried to find the words to apologize on behalf of this man child.

For a beat that felt more like an eternity nobody said anything.

“That not what we agreed on?” Bucky asked, his question caused your face to warm to temperatures that rivaled that of hot lava. Beneath the table you kicked at his ankles while thinking of the numerous ways you were going to get him back for this as soon as you left.

“I’m so sorry. That is not what we agreed on.”

Ava was still flustered, but trying her best to appear professional.

“Possible to get extra frosting on the cake?” Bucky asked and for a brief second he seemed to be taking this more seriously.

A quick nod of her head and she jotted it down, underlining it twice. “We can do that, of course it will be extra.”

“The more frosting the better. Wanna make sure there’s plenty when I feed you that first piece.” His mischievous smirk widened into a full blown smile and this time you didn’t hold back.

“James!” You tried to glare at him, but it faltered when that stupid, beautiful, man child turned his smile on you. “We talked about this and you are not shoving cake in my face.”

“We’ll see.”

For a second that felt more like an eternity your surroundings faded into the background when your gaze locked on his.

No longer could you hear the hustle and bustle of the bakery. No pans clanging as they slid in or out of ovens, no voices rising and falling, no bell jingling overhead as customers streamed in. Nor could you smell the sugar of frosting or the sweetness of the cake samples, no richness of freshly baked bread. Nor could you hear the sound of Ava’s pen tapping against her notepad in rhythmic short bursts.

All you could hear was the steady in and out of Bucky’s breath next to you, the low timbre of his voice when he murmured, “Sweetheart.” All you could see were those sparkling blue eyes of his as they searched yours. All you could feel was the gentleness of his touch when his fingers stroked across your still scorching cheek.

No longer was it you, Bucky and Ava sitting in a back room in a bakery in Brooklyn discussing cake options.

For a few blissful, brief seconds it was just you and Bucky, lost in one others gazes.

All too soon though you were being hurtled back to reality when Ava cleared her throat for the second time that day, breaking you both out of your trances. A knowing look rested on her face, one that you had come to recognize as the same one Natasha and Steve and both of your parents used to shine down on you when your stares lasted a little too long for just friends. A look that seemed to say they had never seen two people more meant for each other.

“Have you decided on a cake?” She asked in a not unkind way.

You got the feeling she was ready to be rid of you both and when Bucky’s hand searched out yours beneath the table, the light touch sending a thrill through you you couldn’t help but feel ready to leave and get him alone.

Another glance in his direction, another silent conversation.

Out of the samples you had tried there were only two you had been able to agree on whole heartedly. They’d not only be crowd pleasers, but you also wouldn’t have to worry about food allergies with them either.

The first was the confetti cake. Vanilla bursting with bright pops of color it had been light and airy, reminding you of his mom’s homemade cakes and all the hours you had spent sitting on their kitchen counters licking the spatulas clean of the batter and watching with rapt attention as she frosted the cake, always giving you the first slice much to Bucky’s annoyance. Paired with a thin layer of vanilla buttercream that Ava had mentioned would pair perfectly with champagne you had been sold after one bite. Even better was that he had seemed to enjoy it as much as you had.

The second had been a double chocolate cake smothered in ganache and that Ava said usually came sprinkled with chocolate shavings on top, every chocolate lovers dream she had said. It had melted on your tongue after the first bite and you swore you had never tasted a chocolate so rich before.

“We have,” Bucky said slowly and for the first time today taking it seriously. “We’ll do the chocolate cake.”

“Perfect!” Ava gushed, jotting it down as she bobbed her head.

As her and Bucky talked amongst themselves finalizing details and asking follow up questions you leaned against his side, mentally crossing another thing off on your wedding to do list as the date grew ever closer.

[kieraelieson]

Janus’s Birthday

Commission for @borrowedblue as a present for @infinimay

It was Janus’s birthday, and Remus could hardly contain himself! He was going to make Janus the very best birthday!!

He had several fun games planned, and even written out and everything! And he’d been just about to show the list to Janus when Thomas had summoned him.

Remus crossed his arms and pouted for a long minute, waiting on Janus to come back. And when he didn’t, he popped up in the real world, hidden beneath the couch.

“I’ll just need your help for a few hours,” Thomas was saying.

Remus plopped down on the floor, rather annoyed to hear them setting plans for he-didn’t-care-what.

Eventually he went back to the mindscape, folding up his list and tucking it inside his shirt. It wasn’t fair. It’d been hard to write big enough for Janus to read! And now it was wasted.

Well, he wasn’t letting his plans get ruined so easily. He was an evil mastermind! He wouldn’t let his plots be foiled!

He paced back and forth, ideas spilling from his brain into half-real phantoms, swirling around him waiting to be picked.

He had to choose something that didn’t take Janus’s time. A gift then, not an activity. Or gifts! No one said he was limited to one!

He thought carefully, and finally the memory blasted into his brain, shattering it into a million pieces. He scooped them back up and plopped them back into his head, fitting the top back on. And then he remembered normally. He’d drunk the rest of Janus’s snake oil a week ago. He could get him more!

He squished himself underneath Janus’s door to find the empty bottle. He clambered up to the top of his dresser where he kept his beauty things, leaving a slimy green trail. He had to look around for a bit before he remembered that he had the bag of slime in his back pocket, and he’d sat on it under the couch, breaking the bag. Well, Janus wouldn’t mind too much. It wasn’t the worst thing Remus had spilled in his room.

He looked around the dresser for the bottle, and saw a glass dome. He recognized it immediately as Roman’s handiwork, since it looked just like the one from Beauty and the Beast. And inside was a chocolate cupcake, decorated with gold frosting that glittered and with a single candle, burning already, but never burning out, probably thanks to the dome.

And that really was not fair! Roman’s present didn’t get ruined! Well he was going to do one better. He was going to make Janus a whole cake!

Remus got down, snake oil entirely forgotten, and ran to the kitchen.

Roman’s cupcake was almost certainly conjured, so Remus was going to make his cake from scratch!

He got up onto the counter and started conjuring ingredients small enough that he could use them. He tried to think of how big he wanted the cake to be. Definitely Janus-sized. He wanted it big enough that Janus couldn’t eat it all at once.

He looked in the cabinet, and found a cake pan. Or at least it was probably a cake pan. He set it on the counter and quickly realized that he would not be able to lift it when it was full.

So he conjured The Terror of the Seas! She was a giant man-eating squid, and one of his favorite creations! Usually she lived in the ocean of the imagination, but when he needed big help and Janus wasn’t around she was always happy to help him. The kitchen was too small for her, but her tentacles reached inside.

“Hey, Terror, wanna help me make a cake?”

Terror let out a crooning warble, which meant yes.

Remus grinned and petted the end of one tentacle before conjuring a big enough bowl and spoon.

“Ok, you just stir while I add things.”

It took thirty-seven him-sized bags of flour, and 23 bags of sugar, the eggs he just tried to use normal-sized, with quite a bit of help from Terror. And he needed to pick a flavor, which he thought about carefully while unwrapping all the tiny sticks of melty butter. He could go with chocolate, but Roman had already done that.

Oh. Oh! If he did it red velvet it would be chocolate and look like blood when it was cut into!

With that decided, he added chocolate and then gleefully poured bottle after bottle of red food coloring in until it was a perfect blood-color.

Terror helped pour it into the pan and put the pan in the oven. Remus happily pulled out another bowl. It was frosting time! The color was obvious. He was doing it green. Or black. Or both! Both was obviously the better idea.

First load after load of sugar, and then a bit more butter, and then mix. Terror was incredibly helpful with mixing. Then Remus put part of it into a different bowl, squirting green into it until it was just as perfect as he was.

The other bowl was black. As black as Janus’s cape, and Remus’s heart. He really had checked once to be sure his heart was black, and it was! Which made it easy to get the right color.

And then the cake was done! It was supposed to cool before frosting it, but Remus didn’t have that kind of time. A quick wave of his hand and the cake was perfectly ready.

Terror has to help a bit with frosting, but then he sent away. Decorating was all his!

The first thing to do was to put his Morningstar on it, of course. But that just didn’t look quite right. Remus stared at it for a long minute trying to figure out what it was.

Oh! It wasn’t edible! And there wasn’t nearly enough either. He picked it up and broke the handle off, and then tapped it, which made it into a candy. Then he just had to make more!

He set them all at the base of the cake, lining them up neatly, since it was for Janus, and Janus liked things neat.

Now what should be next? Again, it took barely any effort to realize that the obvious next step was eyeballs. He did make them candy too, though that made him more sad than making the Morningstar into candy. Eyeballs were already so perfect!

Some marshmallow fondant made into swirls was very nice to put on top, but it still needed a few finishing touches. A can of deodorant, a banana peel. Remus frowned. Something was still missing.

His eyes lit up as he realized. He grew two big tentacles to lift him up and set him on top of the cake without messing anything up. Now. Now it was perfect.

He snapped his fingers to clean up the cooking mess, and then again to replace the fishy smell Terror had left behind with whatever smell it was Janus used as cologne.

Remus surveyed everything. It was perfect. He just had to wait for Janus to get back.

And he didn’t even have to wait long! Just a minute later Janus entered the kitchen, looking a bit tired, and stopped as soon as he saw Remus.

Remus stuck out his tongue in a smile at Janus’s shocked expression. “Happy birthday!”

••^*^••

Part Two

••^*^••

Remus grinned as Janus’s shock morphed into happiness.

“What do you think?” He asked, spreading his arms wide to gesture to the cake.

Instead of answering, Janus picked Remus up, hugging him close. “I absolutely despise it. Thank you.”

“Aww, you’re a softie,” Remus teased. “And you also have frosting on you.”

Janus held him out at arms length, snapping to remove the frosting from the both of them.

Remus climbed up his arm to sit on his shoulder. “So what did Tomathy want?”

Janus pulled out two plates and forks, and got out a knife to carefully cut the cake.

“He had a surprise party to help with. He had to coordinate everything and call all the people involved. This particular party is more complicated than the usual, as some people were able to know some details, and had to know other details, but certain details needed to be kept from them. And these details shifted from person to person, making it quite a complicated web.”

“And not the kind of web Virgey likes,” Remus said. “So what was the best part? I want all the juicy stuff!”

Janus smirked, cutting into the cake carefully so that each piece had a swirl of marshmallow fondant.

“Of course, the most entertaining was getting the person who the party was for to come to the location without telling them why.”

He put the pieces on the plates.

“The first idea was to propose that it was merely for them to hang out with Thomas, but then came the difficulty of getting them to the correct house. So then I suggested that, as the owner of the house where the party will be hosted has a dog, that Thomas should claim to be dog sitting. Of course, then they were concerned that they would not be welcome in a house with the owner gone, which needed a lot of convincing to overcome. Finally I insisted that the owner would be back before they would need to leave, and that she would be interested in hanging out as well. That Thomas had left that detail out as it was uncertain how long she would be there, as her previous engagement had a variable time.”

Remus nodded in interest.

Janus set the plates down on the table, laying his hand next to one so that Remus could slide down to the table.

Then he sat down, and Remus wiggled happily, waiting for him to take that first bite.

“Just to confirm, this is all edible, yes?”

Remus crossed his arms, over exaggerating a pout. “Of course it’s all edible!”

Janus smiled in that way he did when he thought Remus was being cute, picking a forkful with an eyeball on it to eat first. His eyes closed with pleasure as he ate it, and Remus shimmied in a happy dance before digging into his own piece. It really was tasty. Would’ve been better if the eyeballs were real, maybe a little slime in the middle. But Janus seemed to like it quite a lot, and that made it perfect.

“What’s that?” Janus asked, and Remus looked down to see his list poking out of his shirt.

“Oh! That was my first idea.” Remus said, pulling it out.

“Can I see?”

Remus handed it over and continued eating cake.

“You were going to dance with me?”

Remus shrugged. “That one would only work if we got the shrink ray, but there isn’t enough time anymore before your birthday’s over.”

Janus got a weird look on his face, and then it smoothed into something perfectly serious. “Well, you know, my birth happened to span the midnight hours, so to be fair, my birthday ought to span two days.”

Remus jumped up, eyes sparkling. “So we can still do the list?!”

Janus suddenly smiled, and it was his genuine, excited smile. “There’s absolutely no way we could do that.”

Remus jumped up and down in little hops. “Eat your cake! Let’s go!”

Janus even ate quickly, instead of neatly, finishing off the piece quickly. He covered the rest of the cake and put it in the fridge.

“Let’s go.”

••^*^••

Remus had worked hard on that list, trying to think of things that Janus would genuinely like.

And this first one seemed perfect.

They were in a bathtub as large as an ocean, Janus reclining against the side, fully clothed, as both he and Virgil were wont to do. Remus had made himself quite a few more tentacles, and was terrorizing the little ships, occasionally helped by a splash from Janus.

The bubbles though Remus was most proud of. He’d used Janus’s shampoo as the base for the bubbles, and then made them semi-sentient so that they would climb up onto anyone’s head and face to make giant crazy hair and beards.

Janus’s hissy giggle when he caught sight of himself in the mirror was exactly the prize Remus was hoping for.

And then on to the next thing!

As soon as they were dry they were suddenly in a lab, and scientists were tearing Remus away as he screamed bloody murder. In order to rescue him, Janus had to convince the scientists that Remus was actually human sized, and had just been hit with their shrink ray.

Remus watched in awe as Janus talked circles around the scientists, until they thought that they were the small ones, somehow made bigger when they weren’t supposed to be.

The grin Janus flashed Remus when he was handed the shrink ray was absolutely blinding.

And then he shot himself with it, shrinking down to the same size as Remus.

As soon as he did, the world morphed around them until they were in a ballroom. Not a grand ballroom, no, that was something Roman might do. This was a small ballroom, off to the side of the grand ballroom, where they could distantly hear laughter and chatter and music.

A little group of rats with tiny instruments stood in the corner and started playing music.

“Remus, I love this,” Janus said, taking the lead in the dance.

Remus beamed. “I knew you would.”

He still stumbled a bit, (probably he should have practiced a bit more) but with Janus leading the dance was even kind of fun. It was a quicker dance, while still being simple, and Janus’s grin showed that it was also a perfect choice.

When they were both just a bit winded Remus snapped to morph the world into a calm study, jazzy music playing in the background.

Janus dropped into the large chair, letting out a long happy sigh and stretching. “Thank you.”

Remus kicked his feet up over the back of his chair, hanging his head down in the front. “Well it’s not over yet!”

Janus smiled again, small and genuine. “I think I’m ready to take a break, and finish off the list in the morning.”

“Ah, alright. I’ll go knock some heads in then until you wake up. Too much of this mushy and I’ll go crazy!” Remus said with a wild grin.

Janus smirked. “Never change, Remus.”

[rpdrficexchange]

New Traditions (Sashea) - Peridot

A/N: Merry Christmas folks! I wrote this for the lovely roza @leljaaa for the @rpdrficexchange 2019! Feel free to leave any feedback here or over at @artificialperidot :) Hope you enjoy!

To Roza: Merry Christmas darling! I’ve never written Sashea before but I gave it my best shot and I actually really enjoyed it! I hope you enjoy this little coffee shop au with a festive twist, and that you appreciate the little theatre references I just had to sneak in there for you. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas angel!

Shea’s heart was in her throat.

Fingernails dug into her thigh. A strong arm was held firmly around her waist, binding her like a rope. The words he said in her ear blurred into nothing.

This was it.

This was the last straw.

She was done. She had to leave. She was going to leave, right now.

She felt a kiss on her cheek as the hand around her waist clenched tighter.

Fuck no.

Shea pushed him off and slapped him in the face, and ran away as fast as she could.

She heard him call after her.

But there was no turning back now.

***

Sasha was one of very few odd people who actually didn’t mind working on Christmas.

Now don’t get her wrong, she still loved Christmas. She loved the coloured lights, buying gifts for others, the Christmas carols, even the cold weather - it reminded her of her home in Russia. And of course she missed spending Christmas with her loved ones, but she didn’t mind waiting just one more day to open her presents and eat her turkey. After all, that meant her family had two Christmas Days, and she didn’t mind missing out on one of them.

Christmas was actually one of Sasha’s busiest working days. She owned a quaint little café in the middle of New York City, and it was usually the only place open for miles on the 25th. Her café was her pride and joy. She was so happy to be able to create a safe space for everyone who entered through the door, and let them forget about the outside world for a little while. Each detail of the café had been hand chosen by her, from the books on the shelves along the walls to the different coffees and teas they served.

She had spent a few years (and probably too much money) designing it in her own vision. Clean, white walls with bookshelves, wooden counters, glass tables, low hanging neon coloured lights, and brightly coloured chairs, in magenta and bright yellow and electric blue. She wanted to create a comfortable, welcoming space for artists in New York like her, of which Sasha knew were many.

The colourful chairs had since been wrapped in silver tinsel, and the coloured lights set to reds and golds and greens to create a warm, festive atmosphere. Besides Sasha busily working behind the counter, the café was desolate, just as she had expected. She had a few loyal employees, but she would never expect them to work on Christmas, even for double the pay. And, she never expected anyone to come into the shop on Christmas either- even those who didn’t celebrate Christmas usually didn’t want to face the snow and ice. Though, Sasha still prepared the usual cakes and pastries if any customers did decide to brave the cold, as well as some festive treats (gingerbread and shortbread and Christmas cake) which she would likely bring home to her family at the end of the day, having remained untouched.

Instead of busily serving customers from behind the counter as she usually would, Sasha had a new task on Christmas, one that made missing the day with her family all worth it. Every December 25th she would spend her morning kneading and stirring and creating the most magical Christmas desserts and cookies and cakes, complete with fondant icing and Christmas decorations. Sasha wouldn’t necessarily call herself a baker, but she was most certainly creative, and so she made use of her creative streak to invent a multitude of new sweet creations, and had received some pretty great reviews in the past. She would use up all the ingredients she had in the café making as many treats as her brain could come up with, each new addition as delicious as the next.

Whilst they were in the oven, she’d start her next task- wrapping as many shoeboxes she could. The café collected empty shoeboxes from their customers from the beginning of November, and thanks to their generosity, easily over one hundred would be donated. Then, using a combination of customer donations and her own money, Sasha would buy gifts to put in each box – warm clothes and bath products and blankets and sweets and toys for children.

Once everything was wrapped and baked, Sasha would gather each present and dessert and load them into her car, before driving down to the local homeless shelter, where she would stay until midnight. She would hand out her gifts to all of those who gathered there for a warm meal, and serve her cakes and cookies and pastries, which everyone loved. She would talk to them and sing carols with them all evening, and had formed a close friendship with the staff and the homeless people over the years for her generosity.

She wanted to make sure that everyone had a good Christmas, and give back to the community that had done so much for her over the years.

And this Christmas was no exception.

Sasha was busily kneading a lump of dough for her mince pies with her flour covered hands and absentmindedly humming to ‘Hark the Herald’, when she heard the shop door open. She jumped a little in surprise, and turned her head sharply to see who was the source of the footsteps that were headed her way.

Sasha hadn’t expected anyone to come into the café on Christmas Day.

Especially not a woman dressed as an elf.

Especially not a women dressed as an elf who was crying her eyes out.

To say that Sasha didn’t know what to do would’ve been an understatement.

She approached the counter, her running mascara staining the green collar of her shirt with black smudges.

“Uh… can I get a black coffee, p-please?” the girl muttered in a weak, shaky voice, as if she was on the verge of crying again.

Sasha stood silently for a second, eyes wide with utter bewilderment. She could’ve laughed at the sight of the poor girl – she’d never seen an elf with such little Christmas spirit. But, that wasn’t Sasha’s nature, so instead she started making the beverage, giving her time to think about what to say.

She handed over the drink and collected the girl’s money with a small smile, trying desperately to comfort her but not having a clue how to. The girl muttered a quiet “thanks” and turned to leave the store.

Sasha knew she couldn’t just let her leave.

Not on Christmas.

“Hey,” Sasha called out, “how would you like some company while you drink that? We could sit a while, talk?”

The girl wiped a tear from her eye and smiled hopefully. “Um, okay. Thanks.”

***

The pair spent the next hour or so talking to each other, losing track of time. Sasha had laid a table and made two hot chocolates with marshmallows, one for her and one just in case her new companion wanted something sweeter than her coffee. Free of charge, of course.

Sasha learned that the girl’s name was Shea, and that she was originally from Chicago, but moved to New York 3 years ago to study fashion design at college.

Sasha could’ve said how ironic this was considering her Elf costume, but she bit her tongue.

Besides, Shea still looked pretty good in it regardless.

“Then, after I graduate, I wanna design costumes for Broadway shows,” Shea continued on.

“That’s awesome! I used to do loads of theatre when I was younger,” Sasha reminisced.

“Same! I was such a theatre kid!” Shea laughed fondly. “I played Heather Chandler when we did Heathers in my senior year of high school.”

“No way! Heathers is one of my favourites!”

“Me too!” Shea exclaimed. “Fuck, I got to see Falsettos with the original Broadway cast a few years ago and it was honestly the highlight of my life.”

Sasha’s jaw dropped. “I am so jealous!”

Shea laughed and looked down, her dimples and the creases by her eyes forming a beautiful picture that Sasha never wanted to unsee.

And there wasn’t a single tear in her eyes anymore. Shea’s sadness seemed to be forgotten, at least for now.

Sasha tried to convince herself that she was looking for traces of teardrops in Shea’s eyes, but who was she kidding. Shea has the most warm, welcoming eyes Sasha had ever seen, eyes that drew her in and sparkled under the Christmas tree lights and allowed Sasha to catch a glimpse of the fiery soul that lay behind them.

She couldn’t help but stare. Although she had just met Shea, she was sure that she wanted to stare into those eyes for more than just an hour.

Sasha shook herself back into reality, now quite aware that she had been staring for a little too long. Embarrassed, she quickly tried to draw attention away from her staring.

“So, Uh, what stopped you from pursuing the whole acting thing?”

Shea shrugged. “I don’t know… I always wanted to do it, but people kept telling me it was unrealistic.”

“People like…”

“Mainly my boyfriend,” Shea mumbled. “I mean, my ex-boyfriend now.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I…. I left him today, actually.”

“Is that you were upset earlier?” Sasha asked.

Shea bit her lip.“Sorta… I just felt bad doing it on Christmas.”

“Don’t feel bad! I’m sure he probably deserved it anyway,” Sasha said, shaking her head.

“Trust me, he did,” Shea scoffed. “He was a dickhead.”

Sasha smiled and met Shea’s eyes for a second, before she quickly glanced away. “Um, can I ask why? It’s totally okay if you don’t wanna talk about it and I get it if you-“

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Shea replied, a sad sort of smile forming on her lips. “In all honesty… he was a jerk. He would, um, try and control my life, and what I wore, and what I did and stuff. Even today he was being a control freak. We both work part time jobs at Macy’s, as Santa’s helpers, and I had booked the day off to spend Christmas with my family, and he was still working and he, uh, he wasn’t too pleased about me leaving him on Christmas. So, uh, he changed my work schedule to make sure I was working on Christmas and didn’t tell me.”

Sasha felt her heart rate quickening. Oh my God. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah. At first I thought he just didn’t wanna spend Christmas without me, but really, he just wanted to show off to his friends who took their kids to see Santa Claus. He didn’t even get me a gift.”

“Shit,” Sasha said in disbelief. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s fine, I guess. I’m so done with him now though,” Shea said through gritted teeth. “I tried to talk to him earlier, to tell him how I was feeling, but he didn’t listen. He just started flirting, playing it off as if it was nothing. And then he was grabbing me, and I slapped him and ran off.”

“Fuck, Shea.” Sasha furrowed her brow and bit her lip until she tasted blood.

Shea pursed her lips and inhaled sharply. “I know, it was really fucking bad, Sasha. I’m never going back. I don’t wanna see him ever again.”

Sasha genuinely couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This girl had been through hell and back, and yet was still able to articulate everything so perfectly, and Sasha felt priveleged that she trusted her enough to tell her story.

Sasha wished she knew the right words to say. She wished she could rewind time, reverse what happened to Shea. She wished that she could make sure that it would never happen again. “You’re so brave for leaving him. So brave. I’m so proud of you.”

She saw tears start to well in Shea’s eyes, before her face crumpled and she allowed her emotions to come out. Sasha grabbed the girl’s hand across the table, squeezing it tightly and trying to show her how loved she was, how she didn’t deserve any of this shit.

Shea allowed the tears to flow, each wave of emotion overflowing her senses, until she calmed down and started to feel okay. She wasn’t sure why she had allowed herself to be so vulnerable in front of Sasha. Something about her made her feel safe.

Sasha’s fingers remained interlocked with hers as her breathing began to slow, and she saw a smile creep back her Shea’s face.

“Sorry,” Shea eventually murmured, “for getting upset and shit.”

“Don’t say sorry. Emotions are healthy,” Sasha smiled sympathetically.

A weak smile appeared on Shea’s face as her rising chest settled and she was back in control.

“Well, I guess if that shit never happened I never would’ve ended up coming here,” Shea chuckled, the final tear rolling silently down her cheek before being flicked away. “You’re the only place open on Christmas for miles. Except McDonald’s.”

“McDonald’s doesn’t count,” Sasha scoffed, a sarcastic eyebrow raised making Shea giggle.

“Shhh, Ronald will hear you!” Shea exclaimed, before the two found themselves in fits of laughter.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you came in,” Sasha smiled.

“I am too. I’m really glad I met you, Sasha.” Shea beamed, the twinkle of sadness in her eye fading to a spark of hope. Sasha stared for a little longer than she probably should have. It was so easy to lose herself in her kind eyes.

Snapping back to reality, Sasha quickly glanced down and cleared her throat. Damn it. Shea must have noticed her staring that time. She’d need to be more careful about that.

When she dared to glance back up, Shea’s eyes were waiting, staring back into hers. Fuck. There was something so special about this girl.

No. Sasha had only just met this girl, they barely knew each other, and she had just broken up with her boyfriend for Christ’s sake.

This wasn’t happening.

This was crazy.

But maybe, Sasha liked crazy.

Maybe it was the fire in Shea’s eyes, or her fingers still interlocked with Sasha’s, or even her dumb elf costume that gave Sasha the confidence to say what she said next.

“So, uh, if you have no plans for Christmas anymore, then maybe you could stick around and help me with a few things.”

Shea smiled. “I’d like that.”

***

The next few hours blurred into clouds of flour and the sweet smell of gingerbread, as if Shea had stepped into Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory for the first time. Sasha was grateful for the extra pair of hands around the café to help her prepare for the evening, but even more grateful for the company. Being with Shea was always exciting, always fun, and Sasha somehow felt at ease around her. The empty café was now renewed with a sense of Christmas spirit, with a cacophony of laughter and Christmas music and the whirring of whisks filling the air around the two. Shea’s terrible Christmas had been long forgotten, and instead filled with candy canes and sugar and sweetness.

Shea didn’t have a clue how to bake, so whilst Sasha handled the difficult parts, Shea was set the task of decorating the gingerbread men, which she did with glee – she gave each biscuit a name and a different outfit and told Sasha made-up stories about each cookie character, making the smaller girl giggle. There was something infectious about Sasha’s laughter. God, she was adorable.

Once Sasha had seemed their collection of baked goods satisfactory, they began on their next task - wrapping. Shea felt more in her element here, given her experience with fabric, and so set off on a mission to show Sasha how amazing her wrapping was. She covered her first shoebox with glittery gold paper and streams of ribbons and bows, as if the present was fit for Broadway itself. She proudly handed it over to Sasha with a nod, before glancing over at Sasha’s gifts. Each one was precisely wrapped with crisp, neat folds, tied up with a flourish of ribbon. Not to mention the fact that she had wrapped 7 boxes in the time it had taken Shea to wrap one.

Upon noticing Shea’s gawking, Sasha laughed time herself. “It’s all in the math. Wrapping is essentially geometry,” she said, curling a length of ribbon with her scissors. “I like your wrapping more though. It’s more fun!”

Shea smirked. Damn. Smart and nice? Did Sasha know how perfect she was?

Shea knew alright.

***

The sound of a chorus of voices singing ‘jingle bells’ poured out from the homeless shelter, which was buzzing with life and activity. It had been decorated in rainbow-coloured fairy lights, a beacon of hope and magic in an otherwise dark and cold December night.

The two girls walked through the double doors side by side, arms bundled with seemingly endless wrapped boxes and silver tins of desserts. They were greeted by friendly faces and handshakes and hugs from volunteers and homeless people alike, thanking them for contributing to their Christmas.

Shea was sure she hadn’t understood the meaning of Christmas until now.

They began handing out the gifts along each row, Sasha offering hugs to those she had gotten to know over the past few years. Seeing the genuine, heartfelt reactions of those who appreciated such simple gestures as shoeboxes and cakes made Shea’s heart soar. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive.

Maybe it was Sasha who made her feel alive.

She couldn’t really tell.

After an evening spent singing carols and eating Sasha’s Christmas desserts, the two left arm in arm.

“Hey Sasha,” Shea said. “Thank you for all of this. For saving me.”

Sasha beamed. “You make it so easy.”

And thus began Sasha’s brand new Christmas tradition.

She would still go down to the homeless shelter and bring her desserts and her gifts. Of course.

But now, she would bring Shea with her too.

And now, they both dressed as elves on Christmas.