#and the most beautiful lush bouquet of flowers

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

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[theladyofbloodshed]

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 7

A whoosh of wind blew through the room, rustling the pages of her book. Elain swept in with it, a small bunch of flowers clutched to her chest as she twirled. With a flourish, she threw herself onto the low-slung couch opposite Nesta, pink skirts draping across the lush carpeted floor.

‘I am the luckiest woman in the world.’

‘Because I am your sister?’ Nesta countered.

With a beaming smile making her features shine, Elain brandished the bouquet to Nesta. It was a little tired from where Elain had likely clung to it on her walk home from the village, escorted by Mrs Lawrence as chaperone.

‘You hate peonies. You called them roses for paupers a few weeks ago.’

Elain snatched the flowers back and pressed them to her chest again. ‘It’s the thought that counts. Graysen didn’t have to buy me flowers. And they’re beautiful.’

They were nice enough but they looked as if he had torn them from somebody’s garden hastily before his meeting with Elain. Her sister was enamoured with them though so Nesta kept her lips firmly closed.  

‘Maybe I won’t be the only lady in this house to receive flowers.’

On instinct, Nesta’s eyes flickered towards the windows, expecting to see shadows or wings.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Elain gave a coy smile. ‘Mr Dunne was on his way here. He’ll be knocking at any moment.’

As soon as the words were out, a knock did sound at the door. Nesta suppressed her groan. Many suitors had been sniffing about her father, enquiring after his eldest daughter’s hand – and he had been happy to indulge them in conversation so that he could bloat his account with further coin. Since Father had been away on the Continent, Nesta had snipped away every suitor like pruning dead flowers, chopping the heads off one by one. Only one man still came calling because he was too dopey to realise her scathing comments were meant to wound.

Mrs Lawrence’s voice echoed down the corridor as he was seen into the room by her. Rather than sprawling out, Elain sat upright, flowers still held in her lap. She greeted him with a nod of the head and a brief curtesy.

‘It is highly inappropriate to come unannounced and unwanted, Mr Dunne,’ said Nesta, not rising from her chair. She had tried to be polite, abrasive, or cold, and he still returned. ‘Even stray hounds can follow commands.’

‘You charm me with your tongue. I did come with a reason. I have written to your father this morning. A letter has been sent to Neva requesting your hand, officially.’

Elain let out a gasp. She had the luxury of marrying for love. Nesta did not. Destiny was cruel; because she was the eldest, she carried the family’s status on her shoulders. There was no future that she could carve, only her father could decide it. And, well, they rarely saw eye to eye. He wasn’t likely to take her views into account. Only in his absence, could Nesta meddle.

‘You will not find me an unpleasant companion,’ he continued, though Nesta already did. He was in his thirties, with a waistband that was stretching year on year with indulgences. The mutton-chops taking up most of his face were greying and untrimmed. He had not yet married but was filthy rich, seizing the unoccupied space their father had once held in trading.

Nesta was not naïve. She’d known a match would be made between her and a wealthy man, but did he have to be so unappealing on the eye and have the personality of a wet dishcloth?

‘Is that all I should want? A pleasant companion to spend all of my days with?’

There had to be more to life than being a docile wife whose dreams were systematically plucked away by her husband. Being a mother was important to her – but that wasn’t all she wanted. Now that their wealth was restored, opportunities were presented to her, ones that were denied in their destitution.

Nesta’s fangs were already exposed ready to draw blood. A glance was shared between Elain and Mrs Lawrence that said they ought to evacuate Mr Dunne from the room before Nesta shred him in two. She had already been called a difficult girl by Mr Polesworth as if she was a foul-tempered horse that could not be broken in fully.

‘I have sent a letter across the ocean to your father.’

She resisted the urge to snort. That was all it took, was it? A simple letter officially asking to be the husband of Nesta Archeron. That was all that was needed to tie them together for a lifetime.

‘And that should move me? Would you cross oceans of time to find me? How ardently will you love me, admire me?’ Nesta stood then to her full height – which had a good, few inches on him. ‘Would you not wish for any companion in the world, but I?’

Mr Dunne attempted to stammer out a reply, but Mrs Lawrence cut in. ‘Good grief, look at the time! We must host you at another time, Mr Dunne. We’d be overjoyed to have you for afternoon tea next Thursday. Miss Archeron will be on her best behaviour. She has been unwell of late.’

‘Ah the sea air would do her well. My family has a property with a vast land by the coast.’

Their voices carried from the room and Nesta let out a low laugh as she dropped back into her seat. Her fingers grazed the spine of her novel as she reached for it. Elain blew out a breath.

‘That was not nice, Nesta.’

‘I am not nice,’ she replied.

If he wanted to enter her den, he should expect the monster to be residing within. Mr Dunne was insufferable. If Father shackled her to him for a lifetime, Nesta would claw and shred until there was nothing left. 

‘What did you mean, crossing oceans of time to find you? What was all that?’

‘Graysen will marry you because he loves you. I must marry whomever father decides will fill his pockets with the most money. Is it a crime to a want a man who would love me too?’ Nesta thumbed through her book to find her page, having closed it too hastily earlier. ‘If a man wants me, he should earn my love, not expect it.’

From her couch, Elain gave a small, mischievous smile – the likes of which Nesta hadn’t seen on his expression for many, many years. ‘You are a romantic at your core.’

Nesta made a tutting noise. ‘Delusional, perhaps, to hope a husband might want a wife who could meet him step for step in history and mathematics and be more than a brood-mare.’

Elain stood then, smoothing down her skirts with one hand. The peonies were gazed upon once more with airy delight, Nesta’s words hardly registering.

‘These need a vase and water,’ she said to herself before exiting the room.  

It was difficult to know if Elain purposefully ignored comments that Nesta made or it was unintentional. She had been coddled and kept, year on year. When Nesta had asked her to think of the possible outcomes of Graysen discovering their youngest sister was fae, Elain had begun singing to herself and straightened the rug. She did not like to face reality, but it was a necessity. Elain preferred to keep her head in the clouds to avoid the rain whereas Nesta anticipated downpours before the clouds had even greyed.

As a result, she had nobody to share her misery with. The only one in the village who ever made time for their family was Clare. Thoughts of Clare had Nesta’s throat tightening. She had walked past the house the next morning. She’d thought along the way that there was a pungent smell of smoke strangling the air then her eyes had settled on the charred, smouldering remains of the Beddor home. It had felt as if the whole world stopped. Nesta had stared and stared in disbelief that a whole family could be gone – that nobody in the village even knew about it until the morning.

The sycophantic women who had made a return to their lives when money returned were not welcomed by Nesta. She had made a point of being rude and cold to them. Elain might have forgotten about the decade of shunning they received, eager to be back in society, but Nesta would never forgive them. She did not want – or need – such vain people in her life.

But it meant that she was alone. There was nobody to lean on, to share her worries about an impending engagement with, or even pass the time with for fun. Nesta had learned to be alone.

***

‘Where in the name of the Mother have you been?’

Cassian dropped the spoon he was holding and practically hurdled the low table in the living room to wrap Azriel in a bone-crunching embrace that lifted his feet from the ground.

‘Do that to him again,’ called Mor, ‘and he’ll disappear for another week.’

When Azriel was settled back down, Cassian returned to his soup. Mor lay on a couch, a lock of blonde hair twisted around the end of her finger.

‘I’ve been busy,’ he replied then joined them in the living room.

Busy.

Laughable. Debatable. Undeniable.

He had been busy of his own choosing. Azriel took on more missions on the Continent, more stakeouts, more canvassing. He was working himself ragged of his own accord. The order hadn’t been issued by Rhys. Hell, Rhys had not even contacted him for days. He'd do anything rather than be back at the mortal manor - although every single fibre of his being demanded he go there.

Not even him. These fucking shadows.

See her.

They whispered it even now.  

Azriel did not want to even think of that word – mates – because it was impossible. She was mortal, so very mortal. In fifty years’ time, she might not even exist. A strong illness could take out mortals as easily as a dandelion head blown away. There was no such thing as a mating bond to a mortal. Bonds were rare amongst high fae, rarer still for Illyrians.

His shadows had a newfound fascination, that was all.

They had latched onto something new and shiny. Someone who didn’t balk from them. That was all. It was a novelty for somebody not to shy away from them so his shadows were getting carried away with their excitement.

‘I need to see Rhys.’

‘Good luck,’ said Mor with a tinkling laugh. ‘You won’t see him for at least a week.’

‘A week? You’re being generous. Four days, maximum,’ replied Cassian.

He glanced between the pair, not understanding their joyful expression.

‘Feyre accepted the bond,’ said Mor.

Oh.

Azriel had suspected it the moment Rhysand had stormed the wedding and spirited her to Velaris. Anybody else would have been kept in the Hewn City rather than risk them seeing their City of Dreams.

‘You can tell the story, Mor, since you were the one to stow Feyre in Illyria.’

It sounded as if Azriel had missed all of the excitement in his self-imposed exile. Whilst he was overjoyed for Rhys and Feyre, the ache in his chest gave a resounding sigh as if it was missing something. While Mor spoke of the attack on Rhys, Feyre ensnaring the Suriel and discovering the truth, and her taking Feyre to the cabin in Illyria, Azriel listened mutely.  He had little to add to the conversation except his own congratulations which he’d pass along when they all reunited again. If anybody deserved a mate, it was Rhys. He was glad for his brother, but as he shuffled along to his room that night, Azriel couldn’t help but feel jaded. For over five hundred years, he had wanted only one female. He’d wanted to bond with her. Wanted her. And the Cauldron had decided that Azriel didn’t deserve Mor. He wasn’t equal to her.

The shower head rained down on his wings. He tipped his head up towards it so the heat washed over him. There were many things in his life that his childhood had forever changed. Showering was one.

Each day, a fresh bucket of water was brought to him to drink from. An empty one remained to relieve himself in. He doubted if they were ever truly washed. Once a week, after he saw his mother, Azriel was brought a bucket of tepid water with a few bubbles floating on the surface. It was all deliberate, he knew, so that he was sent to his mother as grimy as possible. One rag would be at the bottom of the bucket to scrub himself with. Azriel could never wash his wings properly with too-short a reach.

When Rhysand’s mother had taken him in, Azriel would stand under the shower for what felt like hours. He only ever came out when he was forced out either through food or some other means. Even now, Azriel did not like baths or open water. He’d learnt to swim later on as a necessity, but found no joy in it. Showers, however, were still something that he craved and looked forward to when his mood was low.

When Azriel finally emerged from his bathroom, his shadows were skittering over the bed like a pile of puppies. At his arrival, they scattered to the floor, leaving one solitary shadow on the bed.

‘Oh, remembered who sings to you, have you?’

It rushed at him. In one movement, it darted across his cheek, around the back of his neck then settled on a shoulder, curling towards his ear.

‘Did you enjoy your jaunt to the mortal lands?’

The shadow spoke to him.

Engagement.

Letter.

Neva.

At the words whispered into his ear, Azriel stiffened. The ache in his chest turned to something unbearable like a rib prised open, a heart plucked from within.

‘She’s the eldest daughter. It is a natural sequence of events for mortals.’

With war imminent and the abode of the mortal sisters likely to be a battleground soon enough, engagements seemed a folly. Azriel warred with himself over what to do with the information. It was inconsequential. It changed nothing. He had no need to pass it along to Rhysand or Feyre, even if it concerned her sister. And yet, Azriel could not stop himself from thinking of it as he lay in his bed, in the silent House of Wind. Did the eldest sister not deserve a life of happiness with a husband to take care of her? If the male had a safe place for Nesta, it was better she married and increased her distance from the Wall.

Her heart has not chosen him.

Azriel pulled a pillow over his head as he rolled over. The shadow continued trying to wheedle its way towards his face.

‘The heart does not always get what it wants.’

It gets what it needs.

#nezriel #you're the closest to heaven i'll ever be

[vrmxlho]

SEASON OF LOVE - LOVE FLOWERS

pairing: kaiser x gn! reader

day 0 ← masterlist → day 2

he stood in the flower shop. a stranger in a strange land. michael kaiser had never bought flowers for a partner before; it felt strange and unfamiliar. looking around, unsure of what to do, he felt like an intruder. like he wasn't supposed to be there. like he didn't belong.

he felt the eyes of the shopkeeper upon him, judging him, and he felt a sudden wave of anxiety veil over his being.

it was the time of year when the flowers were in full bloom. the air was filled with the sweet scent of roses, and the streets were lined with colourful bouquets of daisies and lilies. he felt it was his duty to buy you flowers since having first heard your fondness for the delicate bloom. so why did it feel disingenuous to be standing here in middle of all the beautifully cut and arranged flowers in pretty pots waiting to be taken home to you?

"how may i help you sir?"

it was the same shopkeeper who had been inspecting him with a look of disgust or disapproval. which one it was, kaiser didn't know. but he didn't really care

"yes actually. i'm looking for flowers to get for my partner."

"a partner...so what are their favourite flowers?"

"i'm not entirely sure."

"you're not sure." he sounded so utterly disinterested it almost offended kaiser. "favourite colour perhaps?"

it finally struck him. he didn't deserve to be your romantic partner at all. he had no idea how to make a romantic gesture, how to express his feelings in a way that would be meaningful to his beloved. kaiser felt like a clumsy child, unable to speak matters of heart. but then again, even children knew their crush's favourite colour.

"see, we don't really talk about that..."

"it really isn't my place to comment...but, perhaps seek out a relationship therapist rather than just buying flowers as an apology."

how dare he? kaiser didn't need some stupid flower shop to get flowers. he didn't need this treatment. he didn't deserve it.

"as you said, it's not your place to comment."

kaiser still felt unfamiliar and like an intruder, the only difference was that he didn't care to fit in anymore. so he left. the only problem that now remained was getting you those flowers.

it wasn't long before he found himself in front of a gaping meadow. the meadow was a vision of beauty, a tapestry of colour and texture, a dreamscape of wildflowers. while the sun shone down from a cloudless sky, the air was alive with the scent of spring and kaiser felt like he was about to drift away. the grass was a lush, vibrant green, and the flowers were a riot of pinks and purples, yellows and blues. a breathtaking harmony of nature's bounty.

perfect for you.

the figure of a man, moved slowly through the meadow, his gaze intent on the flowers that surrounded him. he was picking them, one by one, carefully selecting the most beautiful blooms and holding them in his hand gently. he imagined how you would react. a bright smile for sure, he couldn't wait for that smile. like a ray of sunshine, illuminating the room with its warmth and beauty.

in fact, when he gave you those same flowers, some with their roots still sticking out, dirt under his nails, you smiled. oh you smiled so so brightly, if the sun was still out your smile would've been a fair competitor.

"for me?"

"who else?" he said sheepishly, holding the flowers out to you while looking away. it was quite unnatural for you to see him like this, but you didn't mind really.

"why would you pick them yourself? there are are flower shops for a reason..."

"i didn't like any of the flower arrangements there."

"oh yeah? so what makes your flower arrangement better." you teased. you knew he hadn't thought that hard about it but you were curious to see what he'd come up with on the spot.

"the smoothness of the petals remind me of your soft skin, under my touch–"

"is that so?" you couldn't help giggling, he looked so passionate about it, it felt unreal.

"shh i have more to say. the sweet fragrance of the blooms reminds me of your sweet smiles." he was getting closer to you now, pulling you in by the waist. he didn't even have to whisper for you to hear him.

"shut up." your body shaking with laughter, you could feel a blush burning your cheeks.

"i was reminded of the way you laugh, your head thrown back and eyes sparkling with joy, when i saw the way the petals seemed to dance in the breeze."

he leaned in, lips brushing against yours in a series of small kisses. you giggled, eyes twinkling with delight just as he had said, and you couldn't help but smile. you stayed like that for a moment, lips barely touching, and then you both burst into laughter.

the air was filled with a playful energy, and you were glad you had him with you here, close and warm. you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, bodies intertwined in a passionate embrace, and you knew that you had found your home.

#blue lock kaiser #kaiser texts #kaiser’s #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser michael #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk #bllk headcanons #bllk anime #bllk imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x you #blue lock #blue lock x y/n #blue lock fluff #bllk manga #mmmm #am a week late so i'm sorry </3333 #feels out of character too :(((( #whatever this is my blog i will write whatever i want 🙄 #(🎆) — season of love event

[edns]

02. Blossom!

Thank you! I may have gone a little too ham with this... But enjoy! I'm a little rusty with writing and also I did this quickly so it might not be my best work but I had fun ^_^ P.S. I Swear I tried to write something cute or funny but I think I am physically incapable of making it weird or sad lol

It wasn’t often that the flower vendor passed by Garreg Mach these days, her good being greatly varied — from lush greens for a garden and potted plants to flower bouquets. As Dimitri took a stroll down the market, he was painfully aware of all the eyes on him… All this time, up until Rodrigue’s death, he had been looking away from them all, when they turned to him for help. Looking around the market, his attention first drifted to the armory. He went to check whether there was anything new there, when a thought passed by his mind.

He probably should have given a gift to the person who cared for him deeply, but got pushed away. Cyrus Lenz, the person who nursed him back to health when Dimitri lost his eye — he made it very hard to tell if he cared or not. Ever since Dimitri reunited with his used-to-be classmates and the Professor, Cyrus had been distant, spending most of his free time training and sparring with other sword fighters. However, Dimitri had seen him fight in the battle at Gronder Field, which made it clear as day that Cyrus still cared, deeply. Putting one’s life on the line was a Faerghan way to say that, after all…

Heaving a sigh, Dimitri perused the armory. The vendor started to fuss as soon as he recognized him.

“We have a new collection of swords and daggers available, Your Highness,” the vendor smiled. “They’re all a valuable find. Surely you would be interested.”

“Are they, now…”

Dimitri rubbed his chin in thought, as his mind wandered… Should he give one of such daggers to Cyrus? At first, this seemed like a great idea, but then he remembered the amount of times everyone made fun of him for giving a dagger as a gift to someone else he cared about… His mind wandered to that person, rage flashing in his eye for a brief moment.

Squeezing his eye shut, Dimitri turned away from the store he was browsing… Only to be met with a pleasant floral aroma. He opened his eye, and saw an abundance of colors. He found himself wandering towards the store. He touched one of the flowers as gently as he could — a rose. Its petals were soft, smooth… It soothed Dimitri. For some reason, it reminded him of Cyrus. The rage on his face was replaced with a soft smile.

“It’s not often I see a warrior such as yourself enjoy flowers,” the flower vendor grinned; she didn’t seem to recognize Dimitri as the Prince yet. Perhaps she was new around here…

“Do I really have an exterior of someone who would not appreciate their beauty?” Dimitri smiled; the lack of formality was also comforting. He picked up the rose flower by its stem, only to feel the sting of a thorn… He pulled his hand away and noticed his thumb bleeding.

“That’s roses for you,” the vendor looked at the rose flowers standing neatly in a vase full of water. “They’re beautiful, but they also sting… And they wilt so quickly.”

Those words etched themselves in Dimitri’s mind. He stood there, his eye jumping between the blossom and the cut in his already scarred hand.

“What is one more wound for me? As you said, I am a man of war. I can take the thorns.” He took the rose again, this time avoiding the thorns, and looked at it up close. With a deep sigh, he touched the soft petals again, an almost pained smile on his face.

“Are you thinking about the rose right now, Dimitri?” The vendor gave him a smirk as the question startled the prince enough to make him look up from the flower. “Or about someone you know?”

Dimitri couldn’t answer, even though his heart desperately wanted to. He stood there, still staring at the rose with a furrowed brow, but it wasn’t rage that was clouding his mind this time.

“If it really reminds you of them, you should give this flower to them. It’s on the house.”

“… No, I can afford to-”

As Dimitri looked up, he found himself standing in a lonely corner of the marketplace, in front of a bush of roses that just happened to bloom there. It wasn’t the first time something of the sort happened to him, causing him to wander off somewhere or speak to people who weren’t truly there, but usually it wasn’t something this… pleasant, so to speak.

After rotating the rose in his hand for a good minute, Dimitri turned around to leave the marketplace with it… Only to see Cyrus before him.

“Your Highness…” Cyrus looked worn out, his voice monotone and quiet, but concern still showed through his seemingly cold expression. Through the thorns…

Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and instead just handed Cyrus the rose blossom, his heart aching as he hoped the other man would accept it. Taking the rose, Cyrus, for some reason, didn’t even look shocked… But he did smile.

“I only wish for you to know that I… Appreciate your efforts in battle,” Dimitri blurted after a minute of silence.

“You don’t exactly give people roses for that,” Cyrus sighed, deep sadness returning to his eyes after the brief respite of a smile. “However, I will continue giving my best efforts. Thank you, Your Highness.”

Saying that, Cyrus turned and left the marketplace promptly, leaving Dimitri alone, his palms stinging with pain as he realized that the cuts were plenty, instead of just one.

Perhaps a weapon truly would make a better gift in this case.

#fe3h oc #oc cyrus bartholomew lenz #Sorry Im not putting any of these in the main fandom tags......It is just silly writing exercises #I feel like I have to make this disclaimer before someone takes this the wrong way but I do not ship Anything but my cringe oc x canon ship #Also I feel there is a Lot of context missing here that is just. In My Brain. I guess it's like my little comics! Gotta piece it together #Anyway I really had a blast with this one thank you for sending it in! #I will get to the other rqs either tmrw or after the weekend! #Again I wanted to draw a nice little illust with this but ahhh this wouldve taken me too long so. Yeagh #writing

[w0nd3rplay]

YOOMI × SATOSHI | DOLLSTINGER

Don't know them? Look at these posts for context

🔥♡🔮

The two met when all of the next gen defenders were gathered at the Wu Shi Academy; Satoshi was there as it's mandatory for future Lin Kuei and Shirai Ryu grandmasters to participate while Yoomi was there because her coven thought it would be beneficial for letting someone familiar with threats beyond what Earthrealm's defenders know to be trained under them as well as intel of other realms with their universe such as Edenia, Chaosrealm and Outworld.

The pair met when everyone was asked to partner up during a team exercise, they were the only ones left. Satoshi was supposed to be with Takeda but he went with Frost instead while Yoomi doesn't know anyone here just yet, standing there dumbfounded. So, out of reluctance they pair up cause Satoshi thought she was being left out while Yoomi was happy that there's finally someone to willingly pair up with her.

They had a civilized relationship as acquaintances in the beginning, and had shown a lot of respect for each other as future grandmaster and diplomat in training respectively.

Then they began talking about their interests in between the breaks in training, how their respective pasts were like. The more they learned the other had opposite personalities, the more they clashed, thus began a friendly rivalry.

They compete for the most dumbest ridiculous shit known to man, though it had to be held back since Yoomi was getting a bit too far with the bets. Despite being similar to Satoshi, he didn't grow up the same way she does.

When he has the chance, Satoshi sometimes brings Yoomi along to visit his home island. Spending time hunting and gathering in its lush forests, sometimes his father comes along and when nightfall arrives, they both tell Yoomi tales from their home country, ainu and their clan alike while eating the s'mores she packed to be toasted along with the edible plants in the campfire.

They also draw stuff together in their free time, often leading to collaborative pieces that had the charming beauty of having clashing and entirely different artstyles; Satoshi had a more semi realistic expressionist look while Yoomi has a more colorful and cartoony look. Satoshi kept one and hung it framed in his room back home.

Satoshi has dimples that he's very insecure about. He always covers them when he laughs and does a small smile for a genuine smile. Yoomi was sad that he felt that way and told him that his showing dimples would make him a more handsome man anyways. Which made him a bit more confident.

This led to him laughing without covering his face for the first time, Yoomi was right and she started to fall in love. She'd always make sure he laughs, even if it meant at least a day.

Satoshi came second to fall in love with her when he came to watch her practice her magic with her elders and he's beginning to be fascinated by the user rather than the magic they use.

Yoomi and Satoshi are both unaware that it's actually mutual but to everyone else it's really painfully obvious. Yoomi sometimes gives him a nice small bouquet that says 'I love you' in flower language that he always keeps in his room back home, taken care by his parents and in return gives her random doodles to express his love.

Speaking of parents, Satoshi even began to approach them for relationship advice but hides the actual reason why, always using 'just in case it happens one day.' and many of its variations as an excuse. Little did he know that they playfully teased him behind his back about how it reminds of them when they were his age, and was really rooting for him.

Odette, Yoomi's legal guardian and mother figure knew of this from them during a parent-teacher conference. So she began doing mock training tests on Yoomi's ideology towards romantic relationships to teach and train her about its ups and downs whenever she can, so Yoomi would have experience on what to do when the time comes. Yoomi on the other hand genuinely thought these were actual tests and took it seriously to which Odette doesn't mind.

When they visited the Fire Gardens during a field trip for their class. They were together, all alone. Yoomi was the first to initiate the confession by nervously rambling about how much she loves him more than a friend to which Satoshi hugs her making her speechless, telling that it's mutual.

Their first date was visiting an art museum in Earth-222 (the world designation number of her legal guardian's home dimension) with all of the old paintings in it, from across various cultures. Along with modern works that used those art styles as a way to preserve the culture, they even saw an old ainu painting featuring a samurai and a babaylan portrayed as a romantic couple to which Satoshi points out that it reminds of them.

Their overall dynamic is 'cute artistic couple that's mistaken as besties' which confused some of their peers and thought the whole crush thing was a dare until one day Yoomi gave flowers and referred to him as 'jonquille' (daffodil in french) while Satoshi in return referring her as 'amai haru' (sweet spring in japanese)

Satoshi isn't a big fan of pda but when he does, he often kisses all over Yoomi's scars as a form of affection and knowing that he found the person he was destined with. Meanwhile Yoomi just randomly sneaks in some small pda whenever she can

Yoomi 'moles' Moonstar × Satoshi 'freckles' Hasashi

Satoshi's parents doted on Yoomi every time she visits because they've already given her their blessings even waaaay before they even dated. Odette and Adaline (Odette's mom btw) were skeptical at first but were willing to trust their adoptive daughter/granddaughter with Satoshi.

Tagging: @theelderhazelnut @bloody-arty-myths @laismoura-art @running-with-the-feels

#🔥♡🔮 // ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ dollstinger #🌠// lucky's headcanons #🐲 // w0nd3rplay's mortal kombat #satoshi hasashi #hanzo hasashi #harumi hasashi #takeda takahashi #forest fox #kenshi takahashi #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #🔮 // ⋆｡°✩ yoomi moonstar

[lesbianhotch]

a rose, is a rose, is a rose

more sugar d*ddy hotch content<33 for the masses<3

notes: sfw, female reader, hotch is here but hes not hes just sending things, v short its like a blurb

It starts with a modest arrangement.

Sunflowers amongst a handful of baby’s breath, artfully tucked into a clear glass vase. A note card is attached with a gold ribbon, with the simple message,

‘Something to brighten your day. -A.H.’

It sits on your desk next to your computer, adding a considerable amount of color to the boring beige of your shared office walls.

The next one comes while Aaron is away on a case. The vase is much taller this time to hold everything; lush peony tulips in white, pink, and stunning violet. It’s delivered right after your lunch break, which means all your coworkers are around to take notice.

The note card reads, ‘Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl. -A.H’

You’re glad everyone else is too entranced by the flowers to notice your blush.

“They’re gorgeous!”

“I wonder how much they cost.”

“-you have to tell us who sent you these!”

You gently swat them all away, careful of your new bouquet.

“He’s a very busy man and our relationship is….complicated.”

Someone hums knowingly, nodding.

“Most relationships are dear.” She strokes a petal with a gentle finger. “However if I were you, I would think I was getting wooed.”

-

Another bouquet arrives, this time directly to your door on a Saturday morning. Back to back cases means you havent seen Aaron in almost 3 weeks, and when you answer the door, the flowers are obscuring the delivery mans face.

He offers to bring it inside, and you let him, the large vase clinking heavily against your wooden kitchen table.

Roses of all shades of pink, vibrant and perfectly bloomed, accented with lush green leaves and red berries.

As you wish the delivery man well, you’re suddenly very glad it didn’t come to your office; theres a good chance it wouldn’t all fit on your desk.

You’re so busy admiring every square inch of florals that you almost forget about the note card. It’s hidden amongst the leaves, and as always, tied with a ribbon.

“Miss you baby. See you soon. -A.H.”

taglist: @sadgirlml @arsonhotchner @needinghotch @jaspxr @angelfxllcm

#my writing #aaron hotchner x reader #HI THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I LIKE IT I JUST THINK IT CAME OUT SWEET

[graebootz]

In the Spirit of the release of Wednesday on Netflix, My first Plant post will be her favorite flower, Inspired by her favorite unsolved Crime

-The Dahlia

--Language of Flowers/Plants

In the Victorian era, the “language of flowers” was a way for women and men to send messages to each other. At that time, expressing feelings of love and affection was taboo. Thus, a bouquet of specific flowers was a way of saying what you feel, without really saying it. The dahlia symbolizes the commitment and the eternal bond between two people. Used to express intimate, personal feelings, they represent elegance and dignity. The dahlia is also a symbol of loyalty and happiness for your loved ones.

The dahlia is a symbol of change, which can also represent betrayal. It is also a symbol of lush beauty, power, and many gifts.

--Metaphysical Symbolism

Dahlias are the official birth flower for August, although other traditions recognize them as the November birth month flower instead. Though most of the symbolism is positive, dahlias still carry a few negative connotations, including betrayal, dishonesty, and instability. Moreover, this beautiful flower is often perceived as a symbol of diversity since its petals appear to fit perfectly into the whole head. Though I found it difficult to find anything specific on the use of the dahlia in specific spells or for casting, its use can always be dependent on intent in its casting and its meaningfulness to you.

--History

The dahlia is native primarily to Mexico, Colombia, and Central America. The Aztec people would call this flower “Cocoxochitl,” which means “cane of water,” referring to its hollow stem. Initially, the dahlia was used to feed animals on its foliage and stems. The dahlia was introduced to France in 1802 by a botanist, Doctor Thibaus. The Swedish botanist, Andreas Dahl, gave a name to this flower, Thus becoming a “Dahlia.” The first species introduced were the dahlia coccinea and tha dahlia pinnata. When crossing these two species, they quickly realized that this flower allowed for many genetic combinations, which promptly widened the range, and thus, created new varieties of dahlias. The dahlia is considered as being one of the most prolific plants in terms of colors and shapes. With over 50,000 varieties available.

--Gardening

You can cultivate the dahlia in all regions, provided that it is exposed to the sun and watered regularly. It would be best if you plant it in clay soil from late April until early May at a depth ranging from 3 to 10 centimeters, depending on the size of the bulb. You should space each bulb about a meter apart for large varieties, and 50 centimeters if it is a dwarf dahlia. It is strongly recommend you use a stake to support the plant in the case of a gust of wind.

--The Unslolved Crime

While i wont be going in depth of the murder here, i will provide a link to the story of The Black Dahlia

#wednesday netflix #netflix wednesday #the addams family #wednesday addams #vtuber uprising #gardening #buttergoat #plants #dahlia #flower #garden #pagan #metaphysical #language of flowers #wednesday #emma myers #jenna ortega

[freesia-writes]

Ok. I’m so sorry to those of you waiting ages for your requests but my inspiration has been at zero lately, except this lil spark of a Howzer idea thanks to @ilovestarwarsmen725 that I managed to churn out yesterday. However. It ends very abruptly because I’m leaving for like 4 days and I know I’m not gonna finish. So… enjoy my feeble attempt. 🤣🙈😘

Howzer x GN!Reader - Tea and Long Walks on the Beach

1.2k words and SFW (sorry, LOL)

Howzer was truly full of surprises.

You never would have guessed that his way of asking you on a date would involve a bouquet of wildflowers and a cryptic note inviting you to meet him at some coordinates on a certain day and time. You’d been friends for a while, although you couldn’t honestly say in good faith that you saw him as just a friend; you’d harbored a crush on him from the start but busy schedules and a sense of duty before pleasure had so far kept you apart. Until now.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to arrive looking impossibly suave yet casual at the same time, sporting an insanely flattering green sweater that fell loosely around him but hugged all the right places just enough to show off his physique. His hair was effortlessly tousled atop his head, and his dark jeans gave the whole ensemble a sense of class. Yet when he saw you as you opened the door to greet him, he only had words of praise and admiration for how lovely you looked. (I can see him in all of these outfits so take your pick from the selection below and keep it in mind as we continue, LOL).

For all his accomplishment and esteem, you hadn’t expected him to be so humble, so relatable, so focused on you. This was a refreshing date indeed. So when you found yourself sitting in the most charming tea shop you’d ever seen, you realized you needed a moment just to take it all in. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall sort of place, with a simple entrance through a wooden door that had clearly seen years of use. It swung open with a cheerful creak, revealing the inside of a quaint cottage that had been turned into a small tea room. The wall was covered with paintings, photos of patrons over the years, and so much memorabilia that it could have been kitschy if it weren’t so endearing, so representative of good memories and fun times that had occurred within the walls.

Howzer had taken your hand, weaving through the motley assortment of tables in every shape and size, and headed for a screen door, which apparently led to an intimate garden patio full of string lights and plants. The entire thing was covered by a lush trellis full of delicate flowers whose light fragrance wafted throughout, hydrated by the unassuming water feature that provided a soothing background sound. Every table was surrounded by a variety of foliage, from hanging pots with vines flowing down their sides to neatly-trimmed bushes that provided little walls of sorts, for beauty as well as privacy. It was the middle of the afternoon, the perfect lull between lunch and dinner, and you’d been thoroughly distracted from your perusal of the menu as you gazed at the clone before you, sharp and intelligent yet soft and kind.

“Where are you off to in that brain of yours?” he asked gently, startling you out of your reverie. You met his gaze, the spark in his eyes curving your cheeks into an immediate grin.

“I just can’t believe we’re here,” you admitted sheepishly, shrugging and continuing to look all around. “This is gorgeous!”

“Tell me about it,” he said cheesily, staring only at you and waggling his eyebrows enough to catch your attention as well as a delighted chuckle.

The server came, orders were placed, and immediately a large pot of tea was brought to the table, along with wildly mismatched cups and saucers that made your heart swell in your chest. Even the spoons were unique, each one having its own color, curves, and details that gave it character.

“I didn’t take you for a tea kind of guy,” you mused as he opened the top of the teapot to inspect the color of the liquid inside.

“Needs a few minutes,” he muttered before turning back to you. “I guess I’m just full of surprises then?” he offered, his smile holding a hint of a smirk now.

“I like surprises,” you crooned, thrilling at the genuine laugh your flirtation earned from him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he returned, as a three-tiered stand of plates arrived, covered in tea sandwiches, scones, fresh fruit, petit fours, and other delicately-arranged small bites.

It was still hard to believe that you weren’t dreaming as you compiled a little assortment of treats on your plate, thanking him as he poured tea for the both of you once he finally deemed it ready. The snacks were divine -- every texture and taste perfectly complimenting the entire spread, and the conversation flowed easily. You knew the basics about each other, but you were absolutely enthralled with his stories about his experiences, his philosophies on life, and his responses to your own thoughts and contributions.

Before you knew it, you were both comfortably stuffed with light, fresh food and equally soothed by hot tea that settled your stomach in a most satisfying way. You felt ready for a nap, and thought about inviting Howzer to join you for that very idea, but before you could suggest it, he was on his feet, hand outstretched to you, and out the garden gate with you in tow.

You lost track of time again, wandering the streets of the quaint village as you chatted about the things you saw and the random variety of thoughts they led you to. Jokes were shared, shoulders nudged, furtive glances cast back and forth that sent a thrill through you every time. And then he stopped suddenly, inviting you to look up at where he had led the two of you.

The entire bay stretched out before you, forming an uneven C shape with large rocky cliffs curving around either side. The water inside was quiet, with the large ocean waves buffeted by the protective peninsulas so that they reached the shore in a gentle, lapping rhythm. The sun was setting earlier this time of year, so it had already begun its descent through the haze on the horizon, bathing everything in a creamy golden light.

Your mouth fell open slightly, taking it all in, and you could feel Howzer watching you from your side. The feeling of his hand slipping around your waist, pulling him into a snuggly hug, was the cherry on top of a perfect setting, and you leaned into his shoulder with a contented sigh.

“You’re the best,” you murmured, utterly in awe at his planning.

The rest of the evening involved a long walk, hand in hand, chatting about everything and nothing. As the twilight colors faded into a velvet navy blue and the twinkling stars began to peek out, you stopped at the end of the peninsula, gazing out into the vast expanse of sea and sky.

Then you made out and had wild sex on the beach and somehow sand wasn’t an issue in the slightest cause this is fanfic and we’re all in dream land anyway.

The End. 🤣🙈💕

#the bad batch #howzer #clone trooper howzer #the bad batch howzer #clone wars howzer #tbb howzer #howzer fanfiction #howzer x reader #commander howzer #captain howzer #howzer fanfic #Howzer x you #the bad batch fanfiction #bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfic #fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

[spiriteddreams]

Pink Tulips

Pairing: Childe x Reader Warnings: none i think Word Count: ~3.3k A/N: the long awaited fluff ending to red carnations! oh my holy archons i am so so so sorry for how long this took to come out, but i'm glad i took the time to write this because i hated my first draft of this ending, and at least this one is a bit more bearable lol

Every flower held its own meaning. Whether it was significant or not depended on the owner and their intentions. People would oftentimes enter your shop with a hopeful gleam in their eyes, searching for a bouquet to give to someone or to lighten up their living spaces. You watched as young children came in searching for the most beautiful bunches for their parents, as young adults approached with flushed expressions, embarrassingly asking for roses, and as adults sought out flowers with deeper meanings. People’s stories could be told through flowers, your own home was proof of it. Since arriving in Fontaine, your home was overflowing with colour, a soft welcome every time you opened the door to go home. Everything was the same; simple and normal. So when you arrived at your home to find a neatly wrapped bunch of daisies sitting on your doorstep with a card tucked in the midst of the flowers, it was safe to say you were slightly confused. Your name was written in such an elegant cursive that was so unfamiliar to you. There was no one that you knew who could write in such beautiful calligraphy. So with furrowed eyebrows, you picked up the fresh bunch of flowers and slipped into your home. You traced your inked name on the envelope, silently admiring the penmanship before flipping it over to reveal the stamped wax seal in the shape of a flower. The paper crinkled beneath your fingertips as you quickly opened the item, your curiosity urging you to go faster. But the sight of familiar handwriting caused you to hesitate.

Dear (y/n),

I hope this letter finds you in good health and your time in Fontaine has served you well. I realize that this may not reach you, or you will have thrown away the letter without reading its contents, but I’m praying to the Archons that you might take pity on me this once and allow me to reach out to you for the last time. 

I’ve had the pleasure to speak with your parents since your departure to Fontaine and they’ve updated me about the expanding business and your success. I wish I could be there to see it and watch you wrap bundles of flowers over and over. I’ve heard that there are flowers that are only native to Fontaine—

You stopped reading. The paper slipped from your fingers as you lay it on the table, tearing your eyes away from the words. You could hear Childe’s voice in your head, soft and playful whenever he addressed you, tinged with a hint of excitement. It would be unfair to say that you hadn’t thought about him since you left. Trying to erase someone so important in your life wasn’t as easy as it sounded and more often than not, you found yourself wondering about his well being from the smallest of things. You stared at the ink stained paper, ignoring how you wanted to finish reading through the paragraphs of words. That could come later, focusing on work came first. 

Fontaine was beautiful, truly. It was a new location with new people who welcomed you with open arms and encouraged you to establish your flower business. In a land where etiquette and presentation were part of everyday life, you slipped into an easy routine of living in Fontaine. The warmth of the sun and lush green grass was a nice change from the endless snow and winter that plagued Snezhnaya. And yet, there was still a part of you that was left unsatisfied. A tiny piece in the back of your mind nagged at every waking moment, urging you to search for the unknown missing piece that was bothering you. Your thoughts pulled you back to the letter that was sitting in your home, paragraphs of stories and confessions printed onto paper for you to keep. The proposition of moving to a new place was daunting and yet it would allow you to step into a new world of adventure. And yet, as business flourished in Fontaine and you settled in the quiet little place you called home, that little inkling of a feeling seeped across your mind.

“I heard Liyue is beautiful this time of the year.” Céline leant against the counter in the back of your flower shop. Your neighbor and first friend upon arriving in Fontain, she frequented your shop often to gossip about the latest news in the city and to nick flowers every so often to give to the pretty bakery owner across the street. 

“Are you planning to visit?” You hummed in amusement, holding up flowers as you trimmed at the stems. Céline pouted as you turned your attention away from her. Days like this happened rather often, the young woman coming to visit after her long shift of work. 

“I simply think that you ought to take a break.” She reached forward to pluck the trimmed flower from your hands. “You’ve been working so hard since you arrived, you deserve a break. You have employees who can run the shop for you while you’re gone, I can always pop in every so often to check up on things because I’ve seen how you work. Come now, mon cherie, take a break.” You wanted to laugh at her comments. She had been coming to you for the majority of the past few weeks with propositions of a vacation. And while it seemed tempting, to walk away from the flower shop for just a moment, there was something so special about being surrounded by flowers, that you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to let go of, even if it was just for a short while.

“Business is well, so I should stay to oversee it. Lest something goes wrong while I’m away, what could happen?” You took back the flower and tucked it into the bunch you were preparing.

Céline sighed, “Please, nothing could possibly happen to such a cute flower shop as yours. And besides, I’m rather close with some members within the government, I’m sure I could pull a few strings here and there.” You rolled your eyes at her comments but stayed quiet, letting her ramble on. “Whether you wanted to or not, I’ve already booked you a ticket to sail to Liyue and stay for a week.”

“You what?” 

“I booked you a ticket to Liyue. I contacted an old friend of mine, she said she’d love to have you stay over and show you around.”

While Fontaine was a nation that was bursting with colour and innovation, Liyue exuded tradition and elegance with respect held in the highest regard. The style, from attire to architecture was straight out of the story books you had read as a child, with arches and stone carvings jutting out into the streets. Céline’s friend was ever so kind, a native of Liyue who gave you tours around the city and its golden land before allowing you to do some adventuring on your own. You watched as children ran through the streets holding paper dragons and lions in their hands. Women walked past dressed in silk qipaos, bamboo fans in their delicate hands. The sounds of Liyue came to life around you, from the singing of an outdoor opera from one of the teahouses in the city to the shouts of vendors calling out foods and bargains. You couldn’t help but gravitate to Mingxing Jewelry, where a variety of items lay out on display, protected behind a glass counter. In the corner of the glass container lay a gold hairpin, embedded with gold and blue stones in the shape of a snowflake. It would be the perfect gift for your mother, a staple piece in her everyday outfit. 

“You have a fine taste.” You jerked back in surprise at the sound of a deep voice next to you. Standing with his hands folded behind his back, slightly leaning forward to look at the hairpin on display was a tall man with deep amber eyes.

“My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” He frowned at your actions. You shook your head, waving your hand to quickly brush aside his worries.

“I was just looking.” You laughed it off, “I thought it might be a nice gift for my mother.”

He looked at the hairpin, then back up at you and hummed, “I fine gift indeed. If you do not mind, may I ask if—”

“Master Zhongli!” A loud voice cut him off. Another figure came bounding up to the shop, panting as they tried to catch their breath. “You’ve got to stop walking off like that, I can only move so fast!” Your mouth felt dry as they reprimanded the older gentleman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry about… that.” 

You stared at him in shock. He was different, so different. Much taller and more built, clad in grey and red. But his eyes, such a beautiful ocean blue, were the same. The same ones you watched grow up, from a child in Morepesok who spent his days fishing in the ocean before he began to grow and leave behind the small fishing village in pursuit of something greater. It was the same ocean blue eyes that you dreamt about while in Snezhnaya, memories of a boy who flew too close to the sun before he came tumbling down. The letters that reached you lay half read back in Fontaine, unreplied and collecting dust in a little box beneath your bed.

“Childe.” His name fell out before you could stop yourself. Eyes wide with shock at the lack of respect, you hastily apologized and dipped your head in respect. It felt unfamiliar to do so for someone like him, someone you had known so well once upon a time. And yet you still did it anyway.

“You… you don’t have to address me like that.” His voice came out strained. You hesitated when glancing up at him, taking in the furrowed brows and mouth parted in surprise. No doubt he wasn’t expecting to see you in Liyue as you weren’t either.

“It seems that you two are acquainted with one another.” The man who went by Master Zhongli cleared his throat, amber eyes flickering between the two of you knowingly. “I will take my leave now and allow for the two of you to catch up.” You wanted to call out in desperation but nothing came out. A talk was long overdue, that was apparent, and even if you wanted to run from the situation, there was no way that you would be able to outrun a Harbinger. 

You cleared your throat and stepped away from the little shop, finding privacy in a little shaded area beneath stairs. The tension in the air seemed to grow with each waiting second, both of you too afraid to make the first move.

You blurted out your thoughts first, “I thought you left Liyue.”

“Why would you think I left Liyue?” Childe demanded, but his tone was not unkind. His hands were shoved in his pockets, fists clenched as he held himself back from reaching out towards you and pulling you in for a hug.

“I heard there was a… situation. It included the Fatui and the destruction of the Jade Chamber.” You stated matter-of-factly. “I figured you would have left.” There was no malice in your tone, but a small part of Childe wished that you would just lash out at him. Despite standing so close to one another, it felt like there was such a disconnect between the two of you. It felt like an endless void, but on Childe’s side it was a raging storm of emotions while yours was a garden of flowers that tempted him. Your life was one of soft colours, surrounded by petals and lush greenery, while his was one tainted with blood and suffering. 

“That’s all water under the bridge!” Childe grinned, “The Fatui aren’t doing anything to cause trouble anymore!” It was hard to read him, to figure out what thoughts were raging inside his head.

“Ah, of course you’ve handled it.” You nodded, trying to believe your own words. “You seem to be doing well.” You couldn’t quite put your finger on the feelings that bubbled in your chest. It felt like a mix of nervousness and unnerving comfort. He was familiar but strange, too strange but not to the point of complete awkwardness. And yet he still reminded you of home and the flowers you left behind.

He shook his head with a smile, “I’ve been better. You look good though, your shop in Fontaine must be flourishing if you’re here in Liyue.” He watched as your eyes lit up at his words and suddenly you forgot about the reason why you hadn’t bothered to reach out to him for so long. He didn’t say a word as you began to ramble on about Fontaine and the people you met. He watched as you spoke with eagerness, hands making wild gestures as you went off on tangents about the stories he had missed out on. The stories he missed out on. There was so much of your life that he seemed to have missed, even if most of his childhood had been spent with you. The person in front of him was older, more mature with a different aura to them and he couldn’t help but let regret build in his chest that he hadn’t been there to watch you become you.

“You must think I’m crazy for all my ramblings, I’m so sorry.” You had moved back to apologizing profusely and Childe laughed, head tipping back as he was reminded of all your little habits.

“I haven’t heard you talk so excitedly in so long, it’s nice.” He offered you a grin, one side of his lips pulling up slightly higher than the other. You nodded, cheeks warm but you blamed it on the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“It was nice to see you.” You rushed the sentence out. A part of you wanted to stay talk with him, but could you really give yourself that luxury? After all, you hadn’t answered any of his letters and had tried to leave him in the past. Being here, in front of him sent those unresolved emotions flooding back. It was too much. “But I have to go, the host I’m staying with is taking me out for lunch.”

“Wait! Before you leave,” Childe’s hand wrapped around your wrist before you could turn away, “Meet me tomorrow evening at sunset, please. At the harbour where the children play.” Meet with him? You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to read the emotion on his face. Hopefulness, maybe? It was too difficult to tell. But maybe this was the closure that the two of you needed.

---------

The waves crashed against the warm sand of the beach, the icy cold waters stinging your feet as you stared out at the vast blue of the ocean. Shouts of delight and excitement echoed in the distance, the sight of children playing by Liyue Harbour warming your chest. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and the cold chill of the wind was starting to sweep in. The salty smell of the air brought you back to the present as you waited for the Harbinger to make his appearance. Five minutes past the agreed meetup time bled into ten, and then to twenty. You sighed in disappointment, ignoring the way your chest squeezed at the thought that Childe was stringing you along for the fun of it. The bundle of flowers in your hands felt heavy, a mocking mix of pink tulips mixed with other pastel coloured flowers. The warmth from the setting sun was pulling away rapidly but without a jacket to keep you warm, goosebumps erupted on your skin. With a huff of frustration, and a halfhearted curse on Childe’s name, you turned around to leave, only to see said man running down the harbour towards you. Despite his lateness and clear distraught, and that this was just so utterly cliche, you couldn’t help but let a smile grow on your lips as apologies began to spill from his lips while he tried to catch his breath. You stood patiently, listening as he recounted an issue at the Northland Bank that somehow got the Feiyun Commerce Guild involved, followed by a request for him to go to Wangshu Inn to pick up something for Master Zhongli, followed by… You lost track of where his story was going, but instead watched as he talked animatedly with wild hand gestures until he stopped mid sentence, mouth parted and eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve been rambling and kept you waiting.” He bowed his head in apology, eyes lingering on the bundle of flowers in your hand.

“It sounded like you were caught up in a mess.” You smiled gently at him, “I’m glad you were able to make it though.” He was silent at your words but thanked you for the flowers as you offered them to him. He stared down at the arrangement, staring at the flowers and trying to see if he could remember the meaning of each one. 

Pink tulips. Forgiveness. You had told him that one night in Snezhnaya when he had shown up to your house after a petty argument earlier in the day. With a frown upon your lips, you had watched him apologize over and over, not letting you get a word in until the snow began to clump up on his head.

“I forgive you.” Three little words and pink tulips shoved to his chest a moment later and the argument between the two of you was long forgotten. Your parents let him stay over for dinner that night, chiding you for not bringing him in sooner and fussing over the little boy to make sure he was warm.

Forgiveness. Is that what you were trying to offer?

“I forgive you.” There it was. The three words he’d been wishing he could hear for so long. He had replayed them in his mind before, imagining that you’d welcome him with open arms and all the dramatics as found in cliche novels. But there was no running into arms, no lover’s kiss of requited feelings, just two figures standing in the little light that was being chased away by the moon. 

“Can we start over?” He ignored the way his voice sounded so meek. You stared at him for a moment. Could you? Could you look past everything and allow him back in your life? There was still your flower shop in Fontaine, you couldn’t leave that behind. And who knew how long he would stay in Liyue before he was swept away by orders of the Tsaritsa. There was too much to consider, too many factors that could stand in the way of rebuilding your friendship with him and yet none of it seemed to matter. The man standing in front of you was still the same one you had grown up with, the same one who poked at your cheeks when you stuffed them full with food, the same one who wrote you letters whenever he could and still tried and tried to seek you out.

“I’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.” You held out your hand, breath low as you waited for his move. His gloved hand rose to clasp yours with a hint of firmness as if he was afraid that you might run away from him.

“Ajax, it’s nice to meet you too.” A hopeful smile crossed his features and you couldn’t help but giggle at his nervousness. With a sharp tug, you pulled him in close, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face into his clothes. He smelled like silk flowers and incense, not quite like the candles he used to burn in Snezhnaya, but something a little new, but still him. Just him.

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3 A/N: took forever but i sat down after my test today and just did a lot of writing lol

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #childe #tartaglia #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

[drahtphotography]

Look at this! Eric has some words to share! Draht Photography

New Post has been published on https://www.drahtphotography.com/the-beautiful-backyard-wedding-in-the-mountains-sampler/

The Beautiful Backyard Wedding in the Mountains Sampler

Savannah and Arya September 9, 2023

---

Savannah and Arya's backyard wedding was a beautiful and intimate celebration of their love, blending their unique cultural backgrounds and taking place on a picturesque 5-acre piece of land that they called home. The entire event was a heartfelt reflection of their personalities and the love they shared.

The setting for the ceremony was truly enchanting. The backyard was transformed into a dreamy, outdoor oasis, with lush greenery and colorful flowers adorning the space. A winding path of lilies led guests through the manicured gardens to the heart of the ceremony area, where a stunning flower-covered arch was set up beneath a towering oak tree, providing natural shade and a sense of reverence.

Capturing the magical ambiance of the ceremony, a photographer discreetly documented each meaningful moment. With a keen eye for detail and a talent for preserving emotions through images, they beautifully captured the love and joy that filled the air that day.

As the wedding began, the soft notes of a live acoustic ensemble filled the outdoor venue. Friends and family gathered on rustic wooden chairs, facing the altar where Savannah and Arya would exchange their vows. The couple's love story was shared through heartfelt vows and touching verses, celebrating their journey together.

Throughout the ceremony, the photographer skillfully captured the tender expressions on Savannah and Arya's faces, eternalizing their love in a collection of timeless photographs.

Savannah, radiant in her flowing white gown adorned with delicate lace, walked down the aisle with her father. Her bouquet of wildflowers and greenery perfectly complemented the natural surroundings. Arya, dashing in a tailored suit, awaited her arrival with a beaming smile.

Expertly positioned to capture each significant moment, the photographer documented the couple's joy as they exchanged vows and rings on a beautiful Persian rug, sealing their commitment to one another with a passionate kiss.

After the ceremony, guests reveled in the charming backyard, enjoying cocktails and hors d'oeuvres surrounded by the soft glow of twinkling lights as the sun set. The reception took place on the spacious lawn, where a long wooden table was elegantly set with white linens, candles, and vibrant centerpieces.

Throughout the evening, the photographer moved seamlessly among the guests, capturing their laughter, heartfelt speeches, and toasts. The dance floor became alive with celebration, and the photographer skillfully photographed guests of all ages engrossed in the joy of the moment.

The wedding of Savannah and Arya was not just a celebration of love, but also a merging of cultures and a testament to the beauty of blending traditions. The photographer's talent lay in capturing these unique moments, preserving the memories of their special day in a way that would be cherished for a lifetime.

As the night came to an end, the photographer discreetly captured the couple's final dance under the starry sky, surrounded by the people who meant the most to them. With their backyard transformed into a magical haven, Savannah and Arya celebrated their union in a way that was truly unique and meaningful to them.

Photographer ERIC DRAHT

Draht Photography

View Full Gallery`;

#Kelowna #photography #vernon #wedding #sampler #draht #photoraphy

[allthingsfook]

Hi! I just saw your ships post and I’d love one if you are still doing them :))

I’m a cancer sun and a leo rising. I have short red hair but i dye my bangs different colors all the time. I’m 5’8. I have a tattoo on my ribs of a bouquet of flowers. I wear a lot of funky earrings and love bold eye makeup! My love language is acts of service 100%. I am in school for theater and dance. I have been obsessed with music for as long as i can remember. My parents are artists. I love collecting records, poetry, and visiting local coffee shops! I love a good cry session! You’ll most likely find me spending time doing witchy and ghostly things. I’m pretty quiet and don’t speak much in public settings, but I have a lot of emotional intelligence and strength, which is my favorite quality about myself. I love my car! I drive a bug that is filled with stickers and greenery! I love planes and traveling. I’m uncomfortable when I’m still for too long. I think that love is the most important thing on earth and I genuinely take time each day do my best to find the beauty and love that is scattered around this planet (as corny as it sounds haha)! I hope that’s a good enough description!

Thank you for doing these! I have so much fun reading them :))

Hello beautiful Anon!!!! I ship you with….

Danny 🤍✨

I think Danny would notice your style from across the room and immediately be intrigued. Only to meet you and find out that you are wickedly cool!!! The first time he gets a glimpse of your tattoo (I imagine him noticing it as you change in the bathroom, door slightly ajar), he would admire the beautiful detail 🥰 Then reflect on how he’s always wanted one but never could decide on what he would get. Maybe that’s an excuse for him being a little nervous that it would hurt.

Through acts of service, which I feel all of the boys identify with, Danny and you would be volunteering at animal shelters, benefits, and charity events. It truly is a sense of community and accomplishment when you know you are helping those around you 💛🤍

Danny would take great interest in theatre and dance. He’d support you in every way possible. Whether it’s giving you alone time to practice, helping you prepare for a show, and most importantly, cheering you on during a production. He’d always have a bouquet of flowers ready for you 💐 Also, Danny would get along with your parents so well! Not that he wouldn’t win over any dad 😉 He’d be curious about their careers and stories throughout the years.

You and Danny certainly are the ones of the group that just sit back and take in all the goofiness of everyone around you. With a group of friends like Josh, Jake, and Sam, he has to let them get all their energy out. There’s no doubt that you two would have the greatest time during a night out, watching all the other’s crazy antics!

I love that you identified such amazing qualities in yourself, and Danny would admire that too! Emotional intelligence and strength….. that sounds so attractive!!!!! Danny definitely gravitates toward someone who is authentically themselves and independent. That shows him that you can stand for yourself when he’s away. Although it might be hard, he’d appreciate the dedication and strength it takes to be in that sort of relationship. Besides, he’d so do anything to make it up to you when he got home.

To build off that, travel would be a huge part of your relationship. As much as you think he’d be tired from the demanding travel schedule with his work, and want to stay home…. He loves to vacation 🏖️ All of those boys are incapable of staying still! Go ahead and be Danny’s little wanderer! (Check out Little Wanderer by Death Cab for Cutie!!! It’s such a Danny song!)

You are gunna have to struggle to get Danny from his Corvette, but once he rides in your bug, he’d realize how much he loves the aesthetic! Imagine road tripping it to the coast in it. His lush curls flowing in the sea salt breeze!!!

Your appreciation of love would be the biggest thing that brings the both of you together. Most of the time we don’t discuss our need of love and giving it to others, we more often show it. Isn’t that beautiful?! Our actions really speak louder than words, and that’s so pronounced with love. Although, when your dealing with a band like GVF, they tend to paint amazing images in our heads with their words…. And Danny did write a lot of Light my Love 🤍🤍

Let me know what you think!!!! I thought it was amazing 🤩

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf ships #gvf imagine #peaceful army #greta van fluff #danny gvf #danny wagner #daniel robert wagner #daniel jean louise marie wagner

[floralallure]

Top 10 Romantic Flower Gift For Your Loved One

When it comes to expressing love and affection, few gestures are as timeless and cherished as giving flowers. Their delicate beauty and enchanting fragrance have the power to convey emotions that words sometimes fail to capture. If you’re looking to surprise your loved one with a romantic gesture, look no further than the floral wonders available at Floral Allure Flowers & Gifts LLC, the premier flower shop in Dubai. With our expertise and dedication to excellence, Floral Allure offers a wide range of breathtaking blooms in Dubai. In this article, we present the top 10 romantic flower gifts that are sure to make your loved one’s heart skip a beat.

1.Classic Red Roses: The Language of Love

Red roses have long been synonymous with passion and love. These timeless blooms symbolize deep affection and are the epitome of romantic gestures. At Floral Allure, you’ll find the most exquisite red roses, carefully arranged into elegant bouquets that will make your loved one feel truly cherished.

Order Anniversary flowers online in Dubai from Floral Allure

2.Luscious Lilies:

Lilies exude elegance and sophistication, making them an ideal romantic gift. Their graceful blooms and delicate fragrance can create a romantic atmosphere. White lilies symbolize purity and innocence, while pink lilies represent admiration and appreciation. Choose a bouquet of luscious lilies from Floral Allure to convey your deep affection and make your loved one feel truly special.

3. Captivating Carnations:

Carnations are known for their beauty and longevity, making them a wonderful choice for a romantic gesture. These charming blooms come in various colors, each carrying its own meaning. Red carnations symbolize deep love and admiration, while pink carnations convey affection and gratitude. By gifting a bouquet of captivating carnations, you can express your heartfelt emotions and make your loved one feel cherished.

4.Enchanting Orchids:

Orchids are exotic and captivating flowers that exude sensuality and beauty. They represent love, luxury, and refinement. Orchids come in a variety of colors, each with its own symbolism. A bouquet of enchanting orchids from Floral Allure can convey a sense of desire and passion, leaving your loved one mesmerized by their elegance and allure.

5.Blissful Mixed Bouquets:

Mixed bouquets are a delightful and versatile choice for a romantic gift. They combine a variety of flowers in different colors, creating a vibrant and harmonious arrangement. A well-crafted mixed bouquet from Floral Allure can represent the diverse aspects of your love, from passion to tenderness. It’s a thoughtful way to showcase the depth and complexity of your relationship.

6.Elegant Flower Boxes:

Flower boxes are a modern and stylish way to present flowers as a romantic gift. The carefully arranged blooms inside a beautifully designed box create an instant visual impact. The luxurious presentation of a flower box from Floral Allure adds an element of surprise and sophistication to your gift. It shows that you’ve put thought into creating a memorable experience for your loved one.

7.Timeless Tulips

Tulips are elegant and graceful flowers that symbolize perfect love. Their vibrant colors and delicate shape make them a romantic choice. Gifting a bouquet of timeless tulips from Floral Allure allows you to convey your deep affection and appreciation for your loved one. Whether you choose passionate red, soft pink, or pristine white tulips, the gesture will surely be cherished.

8.Peonies — Whispers of Admiration:

With their lush and captivating petals, peonies represent admiration and appreciation. Gift a bundle of these charming blooms to show your loved one just how special they are and how their presence brightens your life

9.Gardenias — Secret Love:

With their intoxicating fragrance and striking beauty, gardenias symbolize secret love and deep admiration. Giving a bouquet of gardenias signifies your heartfelt affection, even if it’s yet to be revealed.

10.Sunflowers — Joyful Affection:

Bright and cheerful, sunflowers are the embodiment of warmth and happiness. These golden blooms represent loyalty and adoration, making them an ideal gift to celebrate the joy your loved one brings into your life.

Floral Allure’s Exceptional Services and Unmatched Expertise

At Floral Allure, our passion for flowers goes beyond mere arrangement. We specialize in creating extraordinary experiences through our exceptional services and unmatched expertise. Here’s how Floral Allure sets itself apart in the industry:

1.Extensive Flower Selection: Floral Allure offers an extensive range of exquisite flowers, sourced from the finest growers around the world. From classic roses to exotic orchids and everything in between, our collection ensures that you’ll find the perfect blooms for your romantic gesture.

2.Expert Florists: Floral Allure boasts a team of highly skilled and experienced florists who have an innate understanding of floral design. With their creativity and attention to detail, they create stunning arrangements that are tailored to your preferences and perfectly convey your emotions.

3.Personalized Touch: We believe in the power of personalization. They take the time to understand your vision and incorporate your unique style and preferences into the floral arrangements. Whether it’s a favorite color or a specific flower choice, their team ensures that your gift is truly one-of-a-kind.

4.Quality and Freshness: We are committed to delivering only the freshest and highest quality flowers to our customers. Our meticulous sourcing process and careful handling guarantee that every bouquet and arrangement is filled with vibrant and long-lasting blooms.

5.Timely Delivery: With Floral Allure’s online flower delivery service in Dubai, you can rest assured that your romantic gift will be delivered promptly and with utmost care. Their reliable delivery network ensures that your flowers arrive in perfect condition, adding to the element of surprise and delight.

6.Customization Options: Floral Allure understands that every love story is unique. They offer a range of customization options, allowing you to add personal touches to your flower gifts. From handwritten notes to special add-ons like chocolates or teddy bears, you can tailor your gift to make it truly special.

When it comes to expressing your love and devotion, nothing compares to the enchanting beauty of flowers. Floral Allure offers an exquisite selection of romantic flower gifts. From classic red roses to exotic orchids and delicate sweet peas, their expertly crafted arrangements will help you convey your deepest emotions with grace and beauty. Choose Floral Allure for your next romantic gesture, and let the power of flowers speak the language of love.

#flowers #flowers online #online flower shop #send flowers dubai #gift ideas #dubai flowers #flower shop

[gaveyouall]

The Enchanting Beauty of Hydrangea Bouquets: A Complete Guide

Flowers have a unique ability to captivate our hearts with their enchanting beauty and vibrant colors. Among the myriad of floral options available, hydrangeas stand out as a timeless classic that never fails to impress. Their lush blooms and delicate petals have made hydrangea bouquets a popular choice for various occasions. In this complete guide, we will explore the mesmerizing allure of hydrangea bouquets and how they can add a touch of elegance to any setting. We will also delve into the exquisite collection of rose bouquets, hydrangea bouquets, and sunflower bouquets offered by Floral Beanie, a leading florist and flower delivery service provider in Singapore.

The Allure of Hydrangeas: A Captivating Beauty Hydrangeas are renowned for their large, showy flower heads and abundant petals, which create a captivating visual appeal. These blooms come in a wide range of colors, including shades of blue, pink, purple, and white, offering versatility when it comes to floral arrangements. The lushness and voluminous nature of hydrangea blooms make them an ideal choice for creating stunning bouquets that leave a lasting impression.

The Symbolic Meaning of Hydrangeas: Expressing Emotions Just like every flower has its own symbolic meaning, hydrangeas hold special significance. These blooms are often associated with emotions such as gratitude, appreciation, and heartfelt emotions. They are a perfect choice for conveying messages of love, friendship, and thankfulness. Whether it's a romantic gesture, a token of appreciation, or a heartfelt apology, a hydrangea bouquet can express the intended emotions with grace and elegance.

The Versatility of Hydrangea Bouquets: Perfect for All Occasions One of the most remarkable aspects of hydrangea bouquets is their versatility. They can seamlessly fit into various occasions, ranging from weddings and anniversaries to birthdays and celebrations of any kind. The timeless beauty of hydrangeas adds an element of sophistication to any event, making them a preferred choice for both formal and informal gatherings. Whether used as a standalone bouquet or combined with other flowers, hydrangeas create an enchanting visual impact.

Floral Beanie's Rose Bouquets: Timeless Elegance At Floral Beanie, we understand the timeless appeal of roses and the emotions they evoke. Our collection of rose bouquets showcases the classic beauty of these beloved flowers in various arrangements. From single-stem roses to grand cascades, our skilled florists meticulously craft each bouquet to perfection. Whether you're looking for a romantic gesture or a heartfelt expression of admiration, our rose bouquets are sure to leave a lasting impression.

Floral Beanie's Hydrangea Bouquets: Elegance and Grace If you're seeking a touch of elegance and grace, our hydrangea bouquets are the perfect choice. At Floral Beanie, we take pride in curating stunning arrangements that highlight the natural beauty of hydrangeas. From monochromatic bouquets to delightful combinations with complementary flowers, our hydrangea bouquets exude a sense of charm and sophistication. Whether you want to surprise someone special or add a touch of beauty to your living space, our hydrangea bouquets are an excellent choice.

Floral Beanie's Sunflower Bouquets: Radiant Joy For those who prefer vibrant and cheerful blooms, our sunflower bouquets are sure to bring a radiant smile to your face. Symbolizing warmth, happiness, and positivity, sunflowers are a popular choice for expressing joy and spreading cheer. Our sunflower bouquets feature a delightful mix of sunflowers and complementary flowers, creating a harmonious blend of colors

that will brighten up any room. Whether you want to celebrate a special occasion or simply bring a ray of sunshine into someone's day, our sunflower bouquets are the perfect choice.

Tips for Choosing and Caring for Hydrangea Bouquets When selecting a hydrangea bouquet, consider the color palette that best suits the occasion or recipient's preferences. Blue hydrangeas symbolize serenity and calmness, while pink hydrangeas evoke feelings of love and romance. White hydrangeas represent purity and grace, while purple hydrangeas symbolize enchantment and mystique. Additionally, pay attention to the freshness and quality of the blooms, ensuring that they are well-hydrated and in peak condition.

To ensure the longevity of your hydrangea bouquet, follow these care tips:

Trim the stems at a diagonal angle before placing them in a clean vase with fresh water.

Remove any leaves that will be submerged in water to prevent bacterial growth.

Place the bouquet in a cool area away from direct sunlight and drafts.

Change the water every two to three days and re-cut the stems to enhance water absorption.

Mist the blooms with water regularly to maintain their freshness and prevent wilting.

The Art of Pairing Hydrangeas with Complementary Flowers Hydrangeas are incredibly versatile flowers that pair beautifully with various complementary blooms. For a romantic and elegant look, combine hydrangeas with roses, creating a stunning blend of textures and colors. Delicate filler flowers such as baby's breath or statice can add a touch of whimsy and enhance the overall arrangement. For a more contemporary and modern style, pair hydrangeas with calla lilies or orchids to create a sophisticated and artistic bouquet.

Hydrangeas as Decorative Elements in Events and Weddings Hydrangeas have long been favored by event planners and wedding designers for their ability to create breathtaking decor. Their voluminous blooms and soft colors make them a versatile choice for everything from centerpieces and floral arches to bridal bouquets and boutonnieres. Whether you're planning an intimate garden wedding or a lavish ballroom reception, incorporating hydrangeas into your floral arrangements will elevate the ambiance and create an unforgettable experience for guests.

Floral Beanie: Your Destination for Exquisite Bouquets When it comes to finding the perfect bouquet for any occasion, Floral Beanie is your go-to destination. We pride ourselves on our commitment to quality, craftsmanship, and customer satisfaction. Our expert florists handpick the finest hydrangeas, roses, and sunflowers to create stunning arrangements that convey your heartfelt sentiments. With our reliable flower delivery service in Singapore, you can surprise your loved ones with a breathtaking bouquet that will leave a lasting impression.

In conclusion, hydrangea bouquets have an enchanting beauty that never fails to captivate hearts. Whether you're celebrating a special occasion, expressing emotions, or simply adorning your living space, hydrangeas add a touch of elegance and grace. Floral Beanie's collection of rose bouquets, hydrangea bouquets, and sunflower bouquets offers a wide range of options to suit every preference and occasion. With their commitment to quality and impeccable craftsmanship, Floral Beanie is the trusted choice for exquisite floral arrangements in Singapore. Embrace the enchanting allure of hydrangea bouquets and let their beauty illuminate your world.

#HydrangeaBouquets #FloralBeauty #EnchantingBlooms #FlowerDelivery #FloralBeanie #RoseBouquets #SunflowerBouquets #FloralArrangements #FlowerPower #ElegantFlowers #FloralInspiration #FlowerMagic #BouquetGoals #FlowerLovers #FlowerArtistry #HydrangeaLove #FloralDesigns #FlowerAddict #FloralGifting #FlowerEnthusiast

[illumiera]

1 ⭐️ for what you think is Ellie's most positive and most negative trait,

And ⭐️⭐️ for anything you'd like to share about her! 🥰

for every ★ I get, I will post a fact about my characters!

ooh, an interesting question indeed! let me think...

★ I think Ellie's most positive trait is her innate sense of hope. she's been through some of the worst and no doubt seen some of the worst over the course of her years in Skyrim, but there's this unquenchable spark within her that makes her try and try again even when things seem impossible, see beauty wherever she goes, and believe that things—other people, her own nature, the world itself—can one day be better.

her most negative trait is just how reserved she can be—she's a very soft, sensitive person, but as kind as she is, as warm as she is, as ready with a smile as she is, her inability to forgive herself for what happened to her family makes her deny her deep sense of loneliness and keep people at arm's length as best as she can. even Lucien, the only actual friend she's let herself have since she left High Rock, doesn't really know all that much about her, and they've been travelling together for well over two years...

★ singing while healing helps her concentrate, and she's found that it extends to other things, too, whether sewing or cleaning or gardening. thanks to magic, she can grow plants that would never survive in Skyrim's cold, as well as keep them alive for long past their season... but if you catch her in a playful mood, she'll say it's the singing that does it.

★ at home, she's an absolute maximalist (or a hoarding dragon, you decide)! there's paintings and plush rugs and throws aplenty, and by night, her home is lit by an array of flickering candles in pretty holders. vines of real ivy climb the walls dotted here and there with tiny magelights, bouquets of dried flowers are suspended from the ceiling, and her bed is piled high with fat pillows and lush quilts to keep her warm. its canopy is wreathed in yet more ivy and little magelights, so that when you look up, you feel like you're peering up at the sky from within a forest! 🥰

#asks #thank you for the ask!! #oc: elentari #come to think of it... she and your jia sound like they have very similar interior design tastes! 🥰

[elysiumxii]

[ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ paion of course gifts elias flowers! he's terribly old school ]

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 - elias & paion

"You know, it's complete bullshit that Romeo gets a guy so quick. He's only been top side for what? A month?" With a scoff, Elias looks down at the plastic whale bath toy in his hand as he sits against the edge of the bath. Speaking, of course, to the mother happily playing 4 armed demon splash time with the toddler in the tub. Hyacinth is beyond pleased to have his two favourite people (daddy not included) together for his bath time, even if it was earlier than usual, due to an incident with a juice carton. One rather over eager fist and he'd covered himself, his high chair and most of the kitchen in cranberry.

"What is it with you lampads anyway? You got gorilla grip pussies? You're just holding on to all the men until they give up the fight?" He huffs, dropping the bath toy back into the bath before catching Alena's unimpressed look. "What? He's a baby, he doesn't understand you or his uncle being complete hoes-" he'd started serious but even before the end of the sentence he was grinning with his tease.

"Isn't that right, Hyacinth baby?" He coos, turning to kneel down by the bath and pinch the teething-red cheek of the little tot softly, gaining happy squeals because of his tone of voice. "It's amazing you got here at all! Your mamma didn't just take it in the ass at least once! -and we got you as a blessing" his voice remains high pitched and playful, even whilst he's teasing Alena something rotten. Of course as the best friend, he knows everything.

Lightly nudging the nymph with his shoulder, the familiar laughs as he looks over at them. "I'm just a bitter old bunny bitch-" he hums, flashing Alena a toothy grin, teasing himself to make up for it. In truth Elias could be very jealous of the sweet, if not strangely dysfunctional family, because he himself seemed to have a romantic life that he could barely get off the ground. Of course it was his total love and devotion to all of them that stopped that from happening. Alena, or maybe it was Hyacinth, were as close as he came to a bonded companion right now, and the closeness with them both sustained him.

Resting his chin on his folded arms, Elias watches Hyacinth splash happily. Knowing that hair washing comes next and he was not a fan. Thinking over his own situation he sighs softly. Sure he had his flirtation with a certain Doctor, that was fun. He was both stimulating to look at and stimulating to talk to... but along with that came his incredibly busy schedule and though the late night texting had gotten a little steamy more than once, it was hard enough to try and fit in with his schedule to, well, fit him in!

A knock at the door has Elias' head lifting and seeing as Alena was already up to the elbows in bubbly water (and Hyacinth still wasn't great at not peeing in the bath) he quickly waves a hand and stands up. "I'll get it" he excuses himself and stands, smiling as he pulls the bathroom door closed after him and cuts off the happy, gurgling bathroom sounds. What greets him when he answers the door, Elias was not expecting. A beautiful bouquet of flowers. White roses nestled in with pink carnations and gypsophila all with a lush, dark green background of eucalyptus - even better was behind it, Paion's ridiculously handsome, smiling face.

"The doctor is making house calls-" he breaths through a steadily widening smile as he steps back to let him in, more than a little surprised to see him (and when do men make an effort to actually genuinely offer a surprise? Never). His eyes lower to the flowers again, feeling a light tinge to his cheeks as they were so lovely and just his colour scheme. He should call out to Alena, the nymph would definitely enjoy seeing everyone's favourite doctor and little Hyacinth loved Paion, but as he looks back at him, so close he can actually touch... Elias feels like being a little selfish.

Without a word, offering only a playful "shh" Elias lets his fingers wind around Paion's tie and starts to lead him backwards towards his own bedroom, as his eyes twinkle mischievously. He'd waited long enough to get his hands properly on this man.. and he bought him flowers!

#replies;elias #unavernales #/ paion: imma get flowers and be romantic! #elias: yup imma ride that diiicckkkkk #also i live for the besties #and we all know that if beomsoo knew paion was round he'd monopolise all of the drs time cuz he also loves him LOLOL

[sereina-archive]

A RougeLune Wedding - @twilighttheater​

The day had finally arrived, and it was one full of sunshine and warmth. The scene in the forest was set, with a wooden walkway leading up to the altar. Rows of chairs flanked either side of the aisle, sunbeams filtering through the leafy green canopy overhead. Lights were strung up in the trees above, likely unneeded with the sunlight for the time being. A group of musicians chatted quietly off to the side, hushing and beginning to play as the guests began to filter in. Many were from overseas, while some guests didn’t have to travel far, fortunately. Everyone settled down in their seats, quiet whispers and chatter filling the forest air. 

The conversations grew quieter, a hush falling over the group as the wedding procession soon came in several moments after. Chandelier led the group, flower petals cascading out from her hands freely in an array of colors, earning a series of ‘aww’s’ from the crowd. Flowers also bloomed in her wake along the lush forest grass, lining the aisle beautifully and spreading out through the seating area itself. 

Serena was far behind the party, trying to keep herself out of sight as she watched everyone else take their places. “Does it look okay?” She asked Grace, a hand lifting to gently tug at her veil. Her mother only met her with a beaming smile, hands coming to rest on her daughter’s shoulders. “Serena, mon ange, you look beautiful. I promise. You don’t even have a hair out of place.” Grace reassured her, which only made Serena smile in response. “Now go! It’s almost your time to shine. Yveltal is waiting; I’ll be in my seat.” With a final, tight hug, Grace parted from Serena and hurried to take her seat.

Before she even made a step, Yveltal hurried over, helping her lift the bottom of her dress so it wouldn’t drag too much in the dirt and leaves beneath them. Serena could see his eyes threatening to fill with tears at any second, willing herself to keep her own tears at bay. “Thank you,” she’d say softly, arm slipping into his, “are you going to be okay?” She joked immediately after, which earned her a rare laugh from the god of death. “I… I won’t lie to you, I likely will end up crying.” Yveltal admits, leading her towards the ceremony. “It’s hard not to do so right now, even. You look absolutely stunning, Serena.” She gives his arm a squeeze in return, fighting back the rising lump in her throat. 

They approached the aisle together, Serena sucking in a quiet breath. Only the music from the quartet filled her ears; the guests were in total silence at her and Yveltal’s approach.

Serena, quite literally, looked like a star goddess. Her dress was draped over her frame, like a piece of the night sky itself was plucked and molded to fit her body perfectly. Long locks of blonde hair were twisted expertly into curls and braids, black roses and smaller white flowers adorning golden tresses. Her makeup matched the intensity of her dress, black void nearly taking over shimmering silver, and a long veil of darkness rest over her like a blanket. Atop her head was the tiara Red got her for her birthday, a crown of stars matching her engagement ring. A few quiet gasps and ‘ooo’s’ rose from the crowd, Serena feeling herself blush slightly, thankful for her veil. In her hands was a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses, complimented with small white flowers. Her signature Mega Ring was missing from her wrist, kept safely at home for the time being instead. A diamond and blue sandstone bracelet rest in its place instead.

Bright silver eyes soon moved away from the guests, rising towards the altar to look upon Red. Red, her fiance, and very soon to be husband. It was such an emotionally raw moment, between being the most dressed up she’d ever been in her life, Yveltal walking her down the aisle, and her getting to marry her soulmate. She hadn’t realized how frazzled her mind had been until she looked upon Red, her thoughts soon finding their usual calm as they did when he was around. He was her sun, the burning light that would illuminate her, mind, body, and soul. The red accent of his Montsuki complimented her flowers perfectly; an accidental match that showed they were on the same wavelength as always.

Once they reached the end of the aisle, Serena turned to give Yveltal a hug, holding on tight as tears were battled back once more. “Thank you,” she whispers. The hug is returned as carefully as Yveltal can muster, not wanting to mess up her hair by mistake. Serena feels him begin to shake slightly, tears dripping onto her shoulder. “I love you, dad.” And with that, they’d part, Yveltal watching her join Red at the altar through tear-filled eyes, soon joining Xerneas’ side in the audience.

A hand leaves her bouquet, immediately finding Red’s as she faced him. Sunbeams filtered through the trees above, bathing the two in the soft glow of the sun. She could see why he was so adamant about her staying out of the room when he was trying his Montsuki on. He looked so good, so stunning, so handsome, she was still utterly awestruck and blown away that she got to be his wife. It felt too good to be true, but it wasn’t.

“You look amazing,” Serena said quietly, the music now slowly winding down with the two joined at the altar.

#twilighttheater #rougelune wedding #cries twice while writing this nbd- #let's all pretend that the sapphires in her bracelet are blue sandstone like her ring alright :')))) #long post #ALRIGHT HERE WE GO LETS GOOOOOO EVERYBODYYYYY