#Ceramic Lips Planter
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lumionzhome · 2 years ago
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Ceramic Lips Planter: Combine the elegance of ceramics with the whimsy of lip-shaped planters. These hydroponic vases not only nurture your plants but also serve as eye-catching pieces of art in your home.
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mayalli · 1 year ago
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writing patterns tag game
RULES: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!
Letting @foibles-fables know I did this since I saw it there and it looked interesting 😊
Everything I do is Horizon, so I’ll just toss ships in the parentheses.
--
1- Hold the Shadows in Your Heart (Aloy x Nil)
Even with Nil’s arm draped over her, his body sleep-warm at her back–tangible proof that she wasn’t alone–she had woken, shaking and terrified it hadn’t been real.
2- Good Vibrations (2nd chapter was Aloy x Kotallo)
Aloy walked beside Kotallo as they headed toward their theater, fighting the urge to continuously tug at her skirt.
3- Getting to the (Scorcher’s) Heart of the Matter (Aloy x Kotallo)
Aloy stretched after setting her armor on the stand just inside the western door to the Base.
4- Race on the Sun-Scorched Sand (Nil x Drakka)
Drakka’s eyes darted open as someone kicked his foot, blinking up at Attah in the early morning light as she stood above him, hands on hips.
5- Sweetest Kiss (Aloy x Fashav x Balahn)
Aloy peeked around the corner, lips curling up in a soft smile at the scene she saw.
6- With Frosting on Top (Aloy x Kotallo)
Aloy remembered Kotallo’s distracted mumble about chocolate frosting sounding like something that belonged in every soldier’s rations.
7- The Marshal’s Moments (Aloy x Kotallo)
Kotallo watched greenshine eyes dart to his neck, white paint not completely covering the fading bite mark.
8- Mistletoe Hung, So Please Don’t Flee (Fashav x Nil x Kotallo, Aloy x Balahn)
Aloy knocked her feet against the heavy ceramic planter, knocking off some snow before she rang the doorbell.
9- Warmth of a Familiar Sun (Nil x Avad)
Avad closed his eyes, breathing in the cool breeze that carried the scent of freshly tilled fields and an abundance of spring flowers.
10- Finding Warmth on a Winter’s Morning (Aloy x Nil x Kotallo x Fashav)
Fashav leaned against the raised table, enjoying the warmth slowly filling the fingers currently wrapped around his coffee mug.
PATTERNS: I apparently only start stories with action, no description or dialogue allowed 😅 I also write a large number of ships
TAGGING: @nyxianthe @fogsblue if either of you, or anyone else, is interested.
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shes-a-cowboyyy-killer · 11 months ago
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have you ever broken a bone?
have you ever gotten stitches?
have you ever had a favorite blanket that was super duper soft and comfy?
Nope
I have. I had a seizure when I was walking and I face planted into my grandma's ceramic planter, which caused me to bite through my lower lip. I was like 10 or so at the time? I also ended up chipping my two front teeth and also got a concussion too.
Yup, does a weighted blanket count? lol
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tswaney17 · 3 years ago
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Across the Hallway - Epilogue
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The happiest of happy birthdays goes out to the wonderful, amazing, gorgeous, sweet @offtorivendell! You are an incredible person and I am lucky to call you my friend. I know you love this fic, so here's a little epilogue to conclude the series. Thank you for inspiring this final part. I hope you picked out the pieces I put in specifically for you. All my love. 💜
I hope you have a truly wonderful day, my love! 💕
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💜💙💚
Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4**
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: lots of fluff🥰
Word Count: 1,580
Even after eight months of being together, Elain still got butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw Azriel. A wave of utter happiness would wash over her just in his presence. He was everything she dreamed of wanting—even went as far as believing that she had too high of expectations until she met him. But after everything Graysen had put her through, Elain felt like she owed it to herself to find someone who truly cared for her.
And care for her he did. Azriel was attentive, affectionate, kind, loyal, considerate, and indescribably good in bed. The love, the pleasure she received from him was beyond her imagination.
After just six months, they moved in together, buying their first home. It wasn’t fancy—a small cottage-like house with a garden in the back and planters around the front. Sitting on just the outskirts of Velaris, it gave them the privacy they enjoyed while still not being too far from their jobs.
Elain maintained the garden, bringing it back to life and flourishing practically every kind of flower one could think of, while Azriel worked on the house in the areas that needed a little TLC. She helped him where she could and he always made a point to assist her in the garden when he was able to.
They truly made the perfect team in building their life, their home, together.
Shadow was growing out of his kitten stage, though he was still as loveable as he was when he was young. He had taken to Azriel exceptionally well—to the point that Elain sometimes became jealous of the attention Az received from her baby.
By the time she arrived at their home that night, it was close to seven. Cerridwen was out sick and since the wedding of the Whitethorn-Galathynius’s, her bakery had taken off. Elain was in the process of finding more help, but had yet to hire anybody; so, she was responsible for taking on the extra work when one of her two employees was ill. She was bone-tired and looking for some much-needed R&R with her boyfriend and little furball.
Opening the front door, she called out, “I’m home!”
“Living room,” Azriel grunted back.
Tossing her keys into the ceramic bowl by the door, she kicked off her shoes and went in search of her man, wondering why he sounded like he did.
What Elain didn’t expect to see was Azriel in the middle of their living room doing pushups, Shadow curled up on his bare back dozing despite the movements. Her brows shot into her hairline. Pursing her lips in an attempt not to laugh at the little show, Elain asked, “What exactly is going on here?”
Azriel dropped onto his stomach, breathing heavily as he looked up at her with his chin propped on his wrist. “I was trying to work out, but somebody was incredibly needy today.” He glanced over his shoulder at the cat still lying on his back. “It started when I was doing sit-ups. He leaped onto my chest and stayed tucked there until I finished. Then I put him on the floor and he jumped onto my back when I switched to pushups.”
Elain giggled, walking further into the room, and plucked the black ball of fur from his back.
Shadow peeked open an eye at her, meowing once before he snuggled into her chest.
“Hi, my sweet boy. Were you bothering daddy when he was trying to work out?” she cooed, kissing his little head.
Azriel rolled onto his back and sat up, resting his arms around his knees. “Thank God. I would’ve been stuck there until he got off or you removed him.”
Laughing, she bent at the waist and dropped a kiss onto his lips. “You could’ve just rolled to the side and made him slide off.”
He huffed, standing up. “And what kind of a father would I be if I just pushed him off me?”
She raised a single brow, shooting him a sly grin. “You’re going to spoil our future children rotten, aren’t you?”
Azriel laughed, the sound deep and joyful. “Oh, absolutely.”
Elain shook her head, sighing to herself but still amused. “At least they will be thoroughly loved.”
Wrapping her and Shadow into his arms, Az kissed the side of her head. “The most loved children the world will ever see.”
She hummed in contentment.
“I’m going to shower. Dinner is in the oven if you want to take a peek at it before feeding Shadow.” Tilting his head forward, he kissed her again.
“Sounds good. I’ll be in in a few to change.” Elain twisted on her heel, making her way to the kitchen.
* * *
Azriel waited until Elain was in the kitchen before he headed for their bedroom. Going to his dresser, he opened the top drawer with all his socks and rooted around to the back corner where a small, black box was currently being stored. Pulling it out, he flicked open the lid to look at the engagement ring he had picked out a month earlier.
It was beautiful—rose-gold colored with a band of leaves at the top, centering on the middle diamond. Azriel picked it because it looked like a flower and knew that Elain would love the simplicity of the style, but resonate with it at the same time. It was so perfectly her, he was enamored by the ring when he first saw it.
Too absorbed by his thoughts, Azriel didn’t hear Elain until she asked him, “What is that?”
He whipped around, snapping the ring box closed, and found her standing in the doorway of their bedroom, face slack with shock. Her eyes were glued to the black container in his palm.
His panic had him stumbling back a step. He hadn’t meant for her to see the ring yet. Had a whole plan for them to have dinner in the garden she created. He was going to string up some twinkling lights, have soft music playing from their portable speaker, cook her a delicious dinner of steak and roasted potatoes paired with an expensive bottle of wine. But all of those plans came crashing down. “Uhh, this isn’t—it’s not what it looks like…”
Her eyes widened at the blatant lie. “Do you want to try that again when you don’t still have the box in my line of sight?”
Azriel didn’t move. Didn’t try and hide the box. He swore lowly. “This isn’t how I wanted to ask you.”
Elain took a small step farther into the room. Swallowing, she questioned him, “How did you want to ask me?”
He sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I had everything all planned out. If I don’t tell you, I can still keep a minuscule amount of the romance in it.” His dry chuckle felt self-deprecating.
She took another step. “Ask me now.”
If Azriel was unexpecting anything today, this would by far be at the top of the list. “I wanted to ask you in the garden. I have twinkly lights hidden in the garage that I was going to put up. I was going to cook you dinner and buy a bottle of wine and tell you how much I loved you.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Being half-naked, sweaty from a workout was not what I intended for.”
Moving around the bed so he was directly in front of her, he dropped down to one knee. “Elain Violet Archeron—you have captured my heart since the first day you burst into my apartment chasing after Shadow. I never knew what I wanted out of somebody that I planned to share my life with until I met you.”
She choked up at that, eyes lined with silver.
“When we met, I was struck stupid not just by how beautiful you were, but by how kind and generous you were. How loving and so full of life you were even when you were still dealing with your past. I knew instantly that one day, you would be my wife. The mother of my children. So, the only thing left for me to do is ask you.” He popped open the black box, relishing in her gasp at the ring inside. “Elain, would you do me the greatest honor of marrying me?”
Tear tracks stained her cheeks as she reined in her sobs. “Yes, Azriel. A thousand times yes.”
He rose, hauling her into his chest, and kissed her fiercely. Her soft lips molded to his, sighing into his mouth and granting him access to deepen it with his tongue.
Elain wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him closely. “I love you so much, Azriel,” she breathed, the words marking his soul and shining like golden rays of sunshine.
With his arms still around her, he flipped the box back open and pulled the ring from its velvet cushion. Releasing her, Az took her left hand and slipped the engagement ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly and he prayed to the mother that he managed to get the size right with all his attempts while she slept. His amber gaze met her bright eyes and he told her, “I love you, Elain. Now and forever.”
When he kissed her again, Azriel sent up a thank you to whoever was listening for letting him move into the apartment across the hallway.
~~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕
I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than they’re worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
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lou-struck · 3 years ago
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Gentle Giant
Wakatoshi Ushijima x Reader
~ After a windstorm destroys your favorite flowerpot you find it missing before you can repair it.
Genre- Fluff
WC: 1.1k
*Repost b/c it wasn't showing up in the tags at all :(
It’s broken, shattered, destroyed.
Your beloved painted ceramic flowerpot you got as a housewarming gift for your first apartment has fallen victim to last night’s windstorm.
It fell off the railing of your window ledge and onto the bricks of the shared garden space below into what looks like hundreds of little pieces and shards.
You run down the steps of your apartment as fast as you can. You curse under your breath as you crouch over the remains trying to figure out what you can salvage.
Dirt and basil leave splatter the bricks like a crime scene as you realize there is no saving Benny the Basil. But the Pot itself may be fixed. After much deliberation, you decide that you have a chance of fixing it. You carefully dispose of the deceased plant in the compost bin before turning your attention to the sards of pottery.
Picking through the rest of Benny’s remains, you carefully gather the pieces into a bag and set it off to the side hoping that no one thinks of it as garbage and throws it away.
Not wanting to take this mess into your apartment you look around at the space. The faded picnic tables would be a great spot for you to work on your new puzzle once you run to the hardware store and get yourself some heavy-duty superglue. Knowing that the space isn’t really used by any of the other residents in your apartment complex you head off to the store.
~
You were only gone 45 minutes but by the time you make it back to the patio where you have stashed away your project you find the entire bag filled with your ceramic memories is gone.
Superglue in hand, you pace the yard thinking that you may have just misplaced it stepping over an orange waterlogged sheet of paper that had fallen into a puddle.
You look everywhere including the dumpster out back but can’t find any trace of the beloved pot. You search until the afternoon sky fades into the evening, the setting sun making it difficult for you to search any longer. Feeling dejected you go back up to your apartment to mourn the loss of the little white pot with the painted vines on it.
You could get a new one for next to nothing, but it wouldn’t replace the memories you had with the old one it’s more than just a decoration, it’s a part of your past that you’re not ready to let go of yet.
~
The next morning you are just about to leave your apartment when you see one of your neighbors stepping out his front door.
He’s tall and impossibly gorgeous, you heard from some of your other neighbors that he is a professional volleyball player or something like that. Either way, Wakatoshi Ushijima has been way too intimidating for you to approach on your own, until you see that he is carefully holding something fragile in his large hand.
You can hardly believe your eyes; your tiny flowerpot is resting carefully in his palm. He meets your eyes, and you have this sense of courage to approach him and ask why he has your missing planter.
“Excuse me,” you say marching up to him hoping that the giant would give you back what’s yours.
“Yes?” he asks with a beautifully calm face.
“I believe that’s my pot,” you say boldly as he raises a brow in amusement.
“It’s yours” he repeats analyzing the nearly pristine container.
Do you really have to fight this man to get your pot back, you bite your lip in worry as you size up your potential opponent. He’s head and shoulders taller than you and his biceps alone look like grapefruits.
Upon seeing you freeze he lets out a low laugh and his olive gaze softens. “You didn’t see my note did you,” he asks curiously.
“W-what note?” you stutter, trying to dig through your brain for whatever he could be talking about. Then your thoughts drift to the paper that you saw on the ground. The puddle had soaked it so much that you thought it had just been a piece of trash. “I saw a piece of paper that had fallen into a puddle, was that the note you were speaking of?”
“I see he says with a shake of his head. “I saw your pot fell in the windstorm y/n. I like seeing it on the window, so I fixed it for you and wrote the note telling you that I was fixing it. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”
“Oh, it's no problem at all, I’m sorry I got so defensive about it you say pulling your eyes to the floor in shame at your overreaction.
He hands the pot back to you and for a moment it's like you forgot what it looked like yesterday. Each piece was carefully reattached and even the paint was new. It must have taken hours of his time, why did he fix it for you?
“T-thank you, Mr. Ushijima.” You stammer out “This pot means a lot to me. I went to the store myself to go and fix it and when I saw it was gone, I was a mess.”
“It wasn’t a problem he says turning to leave.
“Wait!” you call after him. He turns around with such enthusiasm you wonder in the back of your mind if he was wanting you to call out to him.
“Yes?” he asks taking a stride close to you.
“Can I do something to thank you?” you ask nervously “Could I take you to coffee sometime?” Clenching your fists in anticipation of his rejection you study his face, even if he says no you still get to look at him a bit longer without being too creepy.
He opens his mouth to speak, “I would like that,” he says giving you a small smile. :I know a place not too far from here, we could go and then stop by the plant nursery next door to get you another plant.”
“That would be great,” you smile “When works for you?”
He thinks carefully for a moment. “Thursday would be good, he hums “But y/n, I must ask you one thing.
“Yes?” you answer.
“Please call me Wakatoshi when we go out.” He says with the tiniest bit of pink on his cheeks. “It’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it?”
Your cheeks heat up a bit at his request, but you oblige, “Alright then, Wakatoshi, then I guess ill see you on Thursday at noon you say.
“That sounds wonderful, he says “But if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to practice now.
“Of course, Thank you again for fixing my pot.” You say as he turns down the hall.
Once he is out of view Ushijima breaks out into a huge smile accidentally stumbling into the wall in excitement.
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copperbadge · 4 years ago
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I’ve never seen an ad for a planter throw anything close to this amount of shade.
[ID: An ad showing an image of a dark, spiky succulent plant in a plain white planter with a red lip on it. Beneath it, text reads “This Just In” followed by “Nightshift Ceramics Mushroom Planter”. Below that, ad copy reads “This wide-lipped planter will distract you from the fact that your plants aren’t thriving and you can’t figure out why.”]
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oh-for-merlins-sake · 4 years ago
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SLOW BURN | gw | golden
summary: y/n, a local florist, stops in weasleys’ wizard wheezes for the first time and finds more than she bargained for. soon, she’ll teach george that there are many reasons to stop and smell the roses.
pairing: george weasley x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: alcohol
a/n: AAAAAH you guys i did not want to stop writing this!! i had so much fun, and i’m really happy with how it turned out! it was really challenging for me to write a “slow burn” relationship, but i hope i did it justice! as you’ll see, this is not a “song” fic, but a lyric (in bold and italics) was used. cheers to the first installment of the golden collection!!
taglist: @iliveiloveiwrite @andromedaa-tonks @pansydaisy @a-little-too-much @slytherinsunrise @marvelettesassemble @msmarklee1213 @letsgotothehop @finnishslytherin @starlightweasley @witch-and-a-half @darthwheezely @vogueweasley @gcdric @breadqueen95 (message/ask to be added/removed, loves!)
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Blackbirds trilled overhead as you glided over the cobblestone path to work. The sun was finally reemerging from behind the dark, dreary clouds, which had just finished bathing the streets of Diagon Alley in a springtime shower. You admired the lingering smell of fresh rainwater that dripped from the eaves above you.
Today, you were taking a detour from your ordinary route. Your younger brother’s birthday was just around the corner, and you had yet to find a gift worthy of a teenage boy’s microscopic attention span and angst-ridden ennui. You smiled to yourself as you spotted the vibrant shop down the street with its mechanical mascot tipping his hat to you.
It was curious to you that this shop had a natural magnetism to people of all ages. If you hadn’t found a thing yet, this shop should surely hold something that would cater to your brother. You’d seen the troves of young wizards clamoring in a morning or two before.
As you approached the large front doors, you glanced at your watch: half an hour until the start of your shift. You strolled into the whimsical shop, dodging a Fanged Frisbee in the process. You slowly turned in place, eyeing the towering shelves of eccentric gadgets and vivid pyrotechnics. Truthfully, it was a little intimidating; where to start was beyond you.
“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”
Startled by the sudden voice, you spun to face its origin. You were met with a tall, redheaded man with freckles that practically danced across his cheeks as he chuckled at your expression. Suddenly, you felt sheepish. “Sorry?”
“You looked a little...” he pondered the right word, “overwhelmed.”
You laughed, “To be honest, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.”
He nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Younger brother’s birthday?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a guess,” he shrugged.
You were quite impressed. As he motioned for you to follow him up the stairs to the next floor of the shop, you couldn’t help but notice how familiar he looked. Surely you’d seen him before — perhaps in line at Gringotts or sipping mead in the Leaky Cauldron. You couldn’t quite pin it.
You were relieved to leave the gargantuan fireworks below — on behalf of your mother mostly. You followed him to a wall of massive tubes that were filled to the brim with colorful candies.
“Our full collection of sweets,” he announced.
You eyed the assortment, noticing the words Puking Pastilles on a golden label. “Are these different flavors or...?”
“Yes, but more importantly, they serve different purposes. These, for example,” he pointed to the pastilles, “induce vomiting — perfect for skiving class!”
You chuckled. “Surely these aren’t allowed at Hogwarts?”
“‘Course not! But that’s what makes them so bloody popular — hot commodity,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve got a sweet for nearly every malady.”
“Who even thinks of this sort of thing?” you mused — again, thoroughly impressed.
“I guess we do,” he answered, leaning against the counter.
Your jaw dropped. “You made these?”
He shrugged, the faintest smirk on his lips, “I made everything.”
“Get out!” you laughed, pouring some candy into a purple plastic bag.
“Of my own shop?” he teased. “I don’t think so!”
You twist-tied the bag shut and turned to face him. “So you’re Weasley?”
“One of them, at least — George, to be exact.”
“That’s wicked!”
You noticed his freckled cheeks growing rosier by the second. “That’s awfully kind of you,” he said, waving dismissively.
“No, honestly! It’s incredible!”
As you reached for another plastic bag, George rushed over to interrupt. “Here,” he pointed to the display of Skiving Snackboxes. “Take one of these — they’ve got all our best-selling sweets in one box. Your brother’s sure to love it.” He led you over, plucking a box from the top and handing it to you. “On the house.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” you said, shaking your head.
“I insist! Consider it an incentive.”
“An incentive?”
He nodded. “To come again.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, George — really! I just know he’ll love it!” As you turned the box in your hands, you caught sight of the time on your wrist: five ‘til. “Merlin!”
George furrowed his brows.
“I’ve got to go!” If you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you’d seen a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “But, perhaps you’ll stop by sometime. I can return the favor — clip you a free dozen roses for your girlfriend or something,” you rushed out.
“I’d have to find one first,” he chuckled, following you as you skipped down the steps towards the doors.
A warm blush flooded your face as you laughed nervously. You spun to face George one last time as he landed at the foot of the stairs. “Well, maybe you’ll stop by anyways.”
“Florist down the road?” he asked, pointing in the general direction.
“That’s exactly the one!” you called, stepping backwards onto the street.
You rushed down the path towards the florist, your step feeling a touch lighter than it did earlier. You noticed the result of the sudden sun after the storm: a rainbow hanging above the grinning man attached to the storefront.
“Aha!” you exclaimed, finally realizing why George had looked so familiar.
When you arrived at work, you swung the screen door into the greenhouse open, announcing your presence, “Sorry I’m late!”
“Not to worry, dear,” Muriel remarked.
Muriel hired you a few months prior, admiring your proclivity to gardening and greenery. She taught you something new every day without ever realizing she was doing so. Her green thumb had a knack for nurturing every flower both under and out of the sun. And her extraordinary eye for piecing together various plants and flowers to create a stunning and elegant arrangement never ceased to amaze you.
“Be a dear, Y/N, won’t you?” Jasmine grunted as she attempted to haul a heavy-bottomed, ceramic pot.
You threw your things onto a nearby stool and rushed over to lift the side closest to you. The two of you managed to hoist the pot just above the dirt floor to carry it to its destination.
“Re-potting the Wiggentree,” Jasmine explained, dusting off her hands. “Pretty soon it’s going to be too big to stay, mum,” she called to Muriel.
“Yes, I know, dear,” Muriel muttered, “That does not change the fact that it must be re-potted.”
Jasmine was less fond of gardening than her mother was. But if something unfortunate were to happen, the shop would fall to Jasmine, so she figured it’d be best to at least try and learn a thing or two.
You walked through the door leading directly from the greenhouse into the shop. “Morning, Candace!”
“Morning, Y/N!” the cheery teenager chirped as she balanced a vase full of violets on the counter.
A set of hooks adorned with various dirt-stained aprons lined the wall just behind it. You reached for the one with your initial embroidered in the upper right corner, quickly throwing it over your head and down your body. You tied a bow behind your back before throwing your hair up and stepping back into the greenhouse. You grabbed a pair of gloves and began heaving soil into the planter with Jasmine.
Beads of sweat were already forming on your forehead as the humidity of the greenhouse settled into your skin.
Re-potting the Wiggentree proved to be a difficult and timely task, taking up most of the morning. By lunchtime, you’d moved on to trimming daisies and de-thorning roses, and come sunset, you were planting hyacinth seeds and watering Flutterby bushes in the garden.
“Y/N,” Jasmine announced, stepping out from the greenhouse. “Someone’s here to see you.”
You wound your way through the garden and the greenhouse, stepping into the shop in search of your guest. Candace giggled as she zipped her coat and nodded towards the front door. You stepped onto the patio, where the outdoor displays danced in the gentlest of breezes. You were shocked to spot George leaning over to smell the roses.
“George?” you laughed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Someone said something about roses,” he teased.
“Well,” you began, walking over and gesturing to the basket of pretty, pink roses, “What do you think?”
“Well worth the walk over here,” he answered, smiling brightly at you as he rocked on his heels with his hands in his coat pockets.
Jasmine rushed onto the patio with her jacket and purse draped over her shoulder and swiftly said, “Y/N, I completely forgot about my mother-in-law’s birthday dinner, and Candace just left! I’m so sorry — would you mind —”  
“Go on!” you hurried, waving her off of the patio, “I’ll close up!”
“Thank you, Y/N!” she called over her shoulder, “You’re an angel!”
You chuckled and rolled your eyes in amusement as she disappeared around the corner.
“I’ve got to tidy a few things but... the bar down the street doesn’t close for an hour,” you began, your heart fluttering as your stomach burst with butterflies, “We should take a walk and look at all the flowers down the alley.” You chuckled, feeling your face grow warm, “I planted half of them.”
George smiled, a light laugh gracing his lips, “All right, sounds good then.”
George busied himself with the outdoor displays while you prepared the shop for closing. He brushed his calloused fingers over the delicate flower petals, occasionally indulging in their sweet scents. He imagined how you likely smelled of flowers after a long day of work, and how that would be the perfect antidote to the lingering smell of gunpowder that constantly plagued his pillows.
“Ready?” you asked, stepping back onto the patio.
“More than ever,” he said.
As you walked down the alley together, you pointed out flowerbed after flowerbed resting on the windowsills of various shops and bakeries. Your favorites, he learned, were always the dahlias. He was surprised by the natural beauty that erupted from the brick and stone storefronts, and even more so by the fact that he never once paid attention to any of it. How could he have missed this?
“Merlin!” you gasped, rushing over to Mr. Reilly’s butcher shop. “Mr. Reilly has been doing an absolute lovely job tending to his poppies! You see, when I first popped in, he swore to Godric that he was incapable of keeping anything alive but himself, but look!”
George laughed, racing to keep up with you.
You led him to the pub that had just opened the month prior, Brenda’s Brews, whose owner agreed with your suggestion of keeping a few Fire Seed bushes out front to “really grab the people’s attention!”
Upon entering the pub, Brenda greeted you from behind the bar, “The usual, Y/N?”
“Two please!” you called, sliding a few sickles across the counter faster than George was able to dive into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it,” you winked.
“Okay, but next one’s on me, yeah?”
“No, no, consider it a thank you for earlier,” you said, raising your glass.
George clinked his glass with yours before sipping from the foamy ale. “Good choice,” he nodded.
“Can’t go wrong with a little Dragon Scale,” you remarked, savoring in its tangy, bitter taste.
“I’ve got to ask,” George began, setting his glass down on a coaster with The Weird Sisters plastered on it, “It seems like you know everyone in this bloody part of town. How come we haven’t met? Have you been here long?”
You laughed at his disbelief. “I’ve only been here a few months, so I haven’t quite gotten to everyone yet — for example, Number 93,” you muttered as you fidgeted with your diminishing glass.
“That’s wild,” he paused before snapping his fingers and saying, “Y/N?”
“Y/N,” you confirmed, taking a swig from your glass.
“And you’ve already made that big of an impact on everyone?” he continued.
You blushed, feeling flooded with a sudden warmth. You were quite flattered by the idea that you may mean something to this place; a place that was so new and intimidating not that long ago; somewhere you were certain a florist could never thrive: the middle of the city.
Perhaps the finger pricks from a thorn every now and then was worth it.
You shrugged bashfully, “I don’t know about all that.”
“Y/N,” a bartender called as he raced past, carrying two different mugs with different colored ales, “May loved the mayflowers! She said yes, by the way!”
You clapped, squealing in excitement, “Congratulations, Borden!”
George raised his eyebrows, as if to say, See?
Brenda bellowed, “Last call!”
You checked your watch: half an hour until close.
And despite the short burst of time remaining, it felt as though you’d been laughing and chatting away with George for hours. If someone insisted that they’d magically slowed time, you might have believed them. It felt so familiar to talk to George; it came so naturally. You wondered if he’d been talking since birth, given the way he animatedly told stories and produced witty comebacks within nanoseconds of the original comment.
At last, your glasses had been drained of their contents, and Brenda was shooing the last of the stragglers out the door. George followed behind you as you ducked out, calling goodbye to Brenda and Borden back inside.
Perhaps you’d been imagining it, but it certainly seemed that you and George were walking much closer together than you had been originally. One misstep and you might have brushed his hand.
You were suddenly distracted by the vibrant purple dahlias sitting outside of Rosa Lee’s. You raced over, carefully assessing exactly which flower to pick, explaining, “She won’t mind, I give her a new basket every week.”
George felt suddenly in awe of your natural grace and delight. It seemed so simple to please you: a dainty dahlia was all you needed to feel like the world was a good enough place to live. In a way, he envied your childlike wonder; it was different than the one exhibited in his shop by his products. It paid attention to the smaller things in life, rather than inciting big, booming bangs. It provided a sense of serenity.
You giggled and tucked the flower behind his right ear. He blushed as your hand gently grazed his skin. “How do I look?” he managed.
“Beautiful,” you said sincerely.
You continued walking as George fiddled with the dahlia. “Your favorite, right?” he asked, pointing to it.
“That is correct, sir,” you answered, impressed by his memory.
Once you reached Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, George leaned against the door and twiddled with the tiny flower between his fingers. He considered asking you inside, despite the lights clearly being off, indicating that the shop was clearly closed, and therefore, indicating that he meant inside his flat.
Likewise, you pondered the same prospect. You wondered if it’d be too forward: to suggest the idea of coming inside. Perhaps, tonight wasn’t the night.
And that was all right.
“Well, George,” you sighed, “I must say I’m really glad I stepped into this wacky shop of yours today.”
“I’d say the same,” he said earnestly.
You paused. “You’ll have to stop by again... you know, to finish off your bouquet,” you said, gesturing towards the dahlia.
He smiled. “You’ll be there tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” you echoed, a smile growing on your lips. You stepped onto the street and waved.
The sight of George waving back with a lopsided grin on his freckled face was enough to tide you over until next time. You spun in place and apparated home.
Honestly, George liked the idea of taking his time, carefully picking flowers — a few each day — until his bouquet was erupting from its vase.
Maybe then, you’d come in.
409 notes · View notes
drabbls · 3 years ago
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1. One Herb at a Time
The morning brought with it hazy memories in the form of stiff joints and aching muscles despite the heat behind the salty breeze sighing through the window. The sheer cotton draperies transformed into a ghost beneath its childlike animation. The room was painted in pale, pleasant colors and filled with glossy-leafed potted plants. It was a milk bath drawn to the perfect temperature.
With all the grace of rusted machinery, Will swung his feet over the side of the bed and dipped his toes onto cool ceramic tile. He scraped a hand down his face and across his unshaven jaw as he gathered the courage to greet the day. The first few strides were always more of a shuffle, his hands mapping the walls, but movement worked things loose and he rarely used the island for support upon reaching the kitchen. Two espresso cups rested beside the sink, one empty and one full, and Will didn’t need to look to know the one on the right was full. He lifted the cup to his nose and closed his eyes as he breathed in the rich scent. He could see the process, deft and meticulous, attentive hands frothing sugar into the espresso the traditional way. Will opened his eyes as he finished off the espresso and set both cups in the sink. His gaze lingered at the basin, his hands cold. He drew back and sighed evenly through his nose.
He walked from the kitchen to the tiny table nestled in the dining nook, finding the morning paper there. It had been unfolded. Its reader had returned it to its original fold pristinely, though Will knew he was not the first to thumb open its thin layers. He glanced at the date. It had become a kind of game for him, trying to recall the day each morning. He’d yet to do so successfully, but he guessed that was to be expected. He had little use for the date, anyway. Will shook the paper to unfold it with one hand and looked over the pictures. The crossword was completed in neat lettering, though the pen that was used was nowhere to be found. Will left the paper unfolded and turned away from the table.
A set of opened sliding glass doors led to the terrace, beyond which lay a modest garden. It was planted with various native plants and shaded in one corner with a small pool. He stepped off the terrace and the damp grass cushioned his feet. Will closed his eyes, and a gravel driveway stretched before him. A line of trees stood to his right at the far end of field. He dropped a hand, and his fingers spread through thick layers of fur. Behind his ear, he heard whisperings of conversation. He felt the press of something sharp across his back. Hot breath on his nape.
A shiver brought a twitch through Will’s jaw and down his shoulder and he opened his eyes again, drew a breath, and turned towards a small patch of turned earth. Beside it, elevated pots housed various greenery. Will knew there was mint, basil, oregano, thyme, and rosemary, though the rest were lost on him. They were far from prolific, but he wasn’t concerned with the herbs. The dishes they made appearances in were always decadent regardless.
“I think it’s high time you make me a mojito,” Will said, his voice still rough from sleep, “I doubt it will miss a few leaves, now.” A slow smile pulled across his lips as the man crouched over a drooping basil plant looked up at him, his eyelids drooping in exasperation. Will stepped forward again and stroked his hand through the thick, greying strands of Hannibal’s hair. “One herb at a time, darling,” he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the only healthy-looking plant in the planter, “I was rooting for the mint, though.”
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iamnotoriginalphil · 4 years ago
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Try Again (Cordelia Goode x Reader)
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Synopsis: You’re having trouble sleeping because of a certain witch.
Words: 1940
Warnings: none
**GIF not mine**
Dappled sunlight filtered through the window, the old sycamore tree swaying in the breeze. You stood at the kitchen counter, cup of tea clasped in your hands, shawl wrapped tight around your shoulders. The old house creaked above you, the sleepy silence setting in around you like an old worn blanket. You watched a raven hop on the green grass, it’s head tilting at something you couldn’t see.
“You’re up early.”
You turned your head slightly, not able to see the blonde witch in the doorway but acknowledging her presence. You let out a long breath, a mixture of contentment and excitement settling in your belly.
A soft hand grasped your shoulder and you turned, leaning back against the counter. Cordelia, pale skin, blonde hair, and beautiful brown eyes, was looking down at you, smile on her pretty pink lips. She cupped your cheek, a thumb running over the dark circle under your eye.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. She lent forwards, looking in your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ear. You shivered, tilting your chin up to give her a better look, to better gauge your state.
“Nightmares?” she asked. You shook your head.
“Too many thoughts.”
Which was mostly true. Too many thoughts were clouding your brain, making sleep an impossible fantasy, much like the thoughts running through your head. Images of Cordelia hadn’t been leaving your mind all night. Images of her in the warm sunlight, of her with her hands buried in soil in the greenhouse, of her sitting at her desk with that welcoming smile on her face. You hadn’t been able to get rid of them. It was like a sweet kind of torture,
“Would you like the day off to catch up on your sleep?” she asked, her thumb still running over the dark circle.
“I’d rather keep busy,” you replied.
“I could use some help in the greenhouse,” she said, “that should keep you busy.”
She offered you a smile and despite the way your stomach clenched you smiled in return.
“Is there any more of this?” Her fingertips brushed against your knuckles and you looked down at the mug in your hands.
“In the teapot,” you said.
She turned away from you, her skirt swirling around her calves. With graceful actions you’d never quite managed to emulate she reached up to the cupboard above her head. She poured herself a cup of the tea, steam swirling up around her hands. You turned away from her, looking out the window again. The raven was still on the lawn, staring through the window at you.
“I see Edgar is here.” Cordelia’s arm brushed against yours as she stepped up to the window.
“Edgar?” You kept your eyes trained on the bird.
“He’s here every morning. I thought I should give him a name,” she said, “I know it’s cliched but it made me smile.”
“No I like it,” you said hurriedly. You glanced up at her to find her already smiling at you. She nudged you with her elbow.
“I’m going to go get started. You might want to get dressed.”
And just like that she was gone in a waft of perfume that curled around you. You took a shuddering breath in before steeling yourself. You poured the rest of your tea down the drain and left the cup in the sink.
When you entered the greenhouse half an hour later Cordelia had her back to you, her nose buried in a bud of a flower. You coughed. She turned, a smile already there to answer your questioning look. A dark swath of dirt was on her cheek, clinging to her peachy skin.
“Are any of the girls up yet?” she asked.
“I thought I heard Zoe stirring and Mallory was looking for a book when I passed by. I think Queenie might have it,” you replied with a small smile.
“Did you tell her that?” she asked, quirking an amused eyebrow at you.
“I suggested she ask the other girls,” you replied with a shrug.
She chuckled, turning back to her work. You came up beside her, watching her sure hands repot the flower in one of the painted ceramic planters gifted by one of the girls. You felt your face flush at the way her fingers curled around the roots of the flower, protecting it with her cupped hand.
“There are some vials over there,” she said, vaguely gesturing to one of the side benches, “can you bring all of them over here?”
It took a couple of trips but you managed to bring the thirty or so vials to the bench she was working at. Her fingers were plucking leaves from one of the plants, crushing them between thumb and forefinger to release the scent into the air. She took your hand as it released the final vials, her thumb running over the skin of the back of your hand.
“Thank you for the help,” she said.
“Anything for you.”
Her answering smile was as bright as the sun, filling you with just as much warmth.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to earn so much loyalty,” she said.
“You’re the Supreme,” you replied, your cheeks growing warm under her scrutiny.
“Plenty if people wouldn’t do anything for their Supreme,” she said, “many wouldn’t do anything for my mother.”
“You’re not your mother,” you replied.
“I should hope not.” She laughed, tipping her head back. You gave her a hesitant smile. She pressed your palm to her cheek. Your thumb, without thought, brushed the dirt from her skin. Her eyes sparkled and a hint of pink tinged the skin under your hand.
“What thoughts were keeping you up?” she asked.
“They’re not important.” You shook your head, your hand slipping from her face. Her fingers twitched but she let you take a step back.
“I’d like to help. If you’d let me,” she said.
Her face was a picture of earnestness. Your eyes skittered down, not wanting her to see in your eyes the exact thoughts that were that kept you up at night. The way that her room being close enough to yours that you could hear her in the evenings made you burn from the inside out. The way that with a brush of her fingers she could turn you breathless. The way you were panting for praise from her lips.
The way you dreamt about kissing those lips.
“What did you need help with?” you asked instead of giving her a proper response.
You looked down, playing with a fallen petal, velvet against your skin. You squeezed it, feeling the give against your fingers, the way your skin grew damp.
You didn’t hear Cordelia walk to your side of the bench but when her fingers circled your wrist you took a sharp inhalation of breath. The petal fell from your fingers, fluttering to the floor. You looked up into her brown eyes, feeling your mouth fall open. You bit down on your lower lip. Her eyes darkened.
“I want to help,” she murmured.
You grasped her face, pulling her to you. Your lips crashed into hers, harsh and demanding. She froze and you pushed her away before fleeing from the greenhouse.
You stayed locked in your room for the rest of the day, watching as the sun rose then fell, the light fading around you sitting on the bed, staring out the window. You could hear the girls through the walls, laughing, talking, shouting. But none were the one woman who was stuck in your brain.
You fell back, staring up at the canopy above your bed. Running through your head were a series of beratements, telling you everything you had done wrong since arriving at the Academy. You already had half a plan to leave this place to keep your shame buried deep inside.
You didn’t hear the knock on your door, your thoughts too loud to be able to hear anything but your heart beating hard in your ears. You missed the door creaking open and soft footfalls making their way towards you.
A soft hand brushed the hair back from your face and your eyes snapped open. You hurried to sit up, your hands scrabbling on the comforter. You pushed yourself back from the woman standing before your bed. She sat, as elegant as always, blonde hair grey in the moonlight.
“Cordelia,” you breathed, wiping a tear from your face, “what are you doing here?”
“I think we have some talking to do,” she said, a sad smile on her face.
“We can just forget about it. It’s fine. In fact I’d prefer if we did. We never have to talk about this ever,” you said, a desperation clinging to you tight. If everyone involved could just forget about it then it would be like nothing had happened.
“I would like to talk about it,” she said, putting a stop to all the arguments on your tongue.
You averted your eyes from her, closing your mouth, giving her the option to continue.
“You caught me by surprise earlier,” she said, “I wish you hadn’t.”
It was like you’d been doused in a bath of cold water, your body going numb. You didn’t need her telling you she didn’t feel the same way. It was obvious enough to you. It would have been better if she had allowed you to ignore it. You jerked back from her.
“If I’d been more prepared I could have kissed you back the way I wanted to,” she said.
You dragged your eyes up to her. She was looking at you with an intensity you were unused to. Your breath shuddered in your lungs, stopping as one of her hands reached out to you. She cupped your cheek but you remained frozen, back pressed against the headboard.
“Can I try again?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you want. I don’t understand.” You shook your head, your eyes slipping away from her again.
“I have feelings for you. More than that, I’ve fallen in love with you. I hoped you felt the same way but I wasn’t willing to say anything until you did. I didn’t want my position, my power, to influence you,” she said.
“So you let me think you had no feelings for me?” you asked.
“I tried to show you in my own way,” she said, “but I hoped you’d come talk to me.”
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you replied.
She gave a short dry chuckle. Looking up, you saw there was no humour in her. Her thumb ran over the apple of your cheek.
“It looks that in trying to look after each other all we’ve managed to do is hurt each other,” she said.
“You can try again.”
A smile broke out on her face. She drew closer, hovering a hair 's breadth away from your lips, her breath ghosting over your skin. You shivered, closing your eyes.
Her lips were soft against yours, but sure. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing yourself to her, any semblance of self control gone. She kissed you deeper, hungrier, consuming you. Her hand pressed to the small of your back, keeping you close to her.
She pulled back, pressing her forehead to yours. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy but her lips were smiling.
“How about you try again?” you murmured.
“Was it not good enough for you?” she asked, her eyes blinking open.
“Much too short,” you replied.
A smile broke over her face before you kissed her again.
177 notes · View notes
jenny-bridget-writes · 3 years ago
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Iota (Part 2)
Ashiko pushed open the double doors, letting the icy gale rifle through her cloak before slamming into the bulwark of warm air inside. All noise in the diner ceased, apart from the crackling of the cheap television and the howling of the wind that drew every eye to her.
“Hey!” the owner said, not daring to remove her hands from the cables coming from the back of the television, “Close that door! You’re lettin’ in the cold!”
“Sorry,” Ashiko said sheepishly, closing the door behind Sundara. They took a seat at the bar, and the owner walked over to them.
“You’re an awful strange pair, friends. What brings you here?” she asked the two of them. Her brow was heavy, weighed down by the uncountable creases on her forehead. Laugh lines spread from her bespectacled eyes like river deltas that had seen a lot of water.
“Our airship was shot down up there in the mountains,” Sundara said.
“They also took down the radio tower,” Ashiko continued, “so we can’t get phone signals.”
“That’s rough, buddy,” the owner said, “Any injuries? There’s a clinic just down the street. I could have my son take you there.”
“No, we’re fine,” Ashiko said, “Just a little cold.”
“I’ll get you some coffee. On the house.”
Ashiko and Sundara gawked at this generosity, but their amazement was slightly lessened a moment after.
“It’s a week old, and I can’t legally sell it,” said the owner, “but it’s the thought that counts, right?” She passed two steaming mugs down the bar.
“Y-yes,” Sundara said, taking the hot mug in his hands, “Cheers.”
“Thank you,” Ashiko said as she received her mug. The warmth of the ceramic seeped through her frigid fingers.
“You’re up awfully early,” Sundara said.
“It’s not that early,” replied Ashiko.
“It’s four in the morning!”
“Plenty of people come down from the mountains in the morning,” the woman told them, gesturing to the snow-dusted, heavily-garbed customers, “Mostly hunters and campers who don’t want to freeze out there. But pirate attacks? Those are new to me. We don’t get a lot of action around here.”
Sundara reached for his wallet but soon looked up from his empty pocket with a look of horror on his face. “Hey, erm,” he said, “Is there a quest board or something here? I’ve got no money.” He turned to Ashiko. She shook her head.
“I don’t have pockets.”
The owner took pity on them, something they would wish for later on. She leaned in close to them and whispered: “I’ll give you twenty dollars… if you get that girl out of my establishment.” She subtly pointed to a girl sitting in the corner, who looked to be about their age. She wore little more than tattered, rolled-up overalls and a short wool poncho which looked far too drafty for this weather. Flowery vines curled down her legs to her bare toes. Her blond hair was tangled up in twigs and leaves. She carried a long stick of carved bone with a translucent blue blade at one end made of some sort of crystal. 
“Why?” asked Ashiko, “She isn’t causing any trouble.”
“Look closer.”
Ashiko and Sundara followed the owner’s attention to the girl, who caught sight of a withered flower in a little planter on the windowsill. She brought a small egg-shaped flute to her lips and blew a few notes toward the flower. The bent brown stem straightened and filled out with growing streaks of green. The dried petals uncurled and returned to a fresh springtime bloom.
“That’s not natural,” Sundara said, thoroughly spooked.
Ashiko shook her head, but didn’t take her eyes off the anomaly unfolding in front of her. “I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for that.”
“We have some more… religiously-minded folks that come through here,” the owner said, “I don’t want someone to take her out back like Ol’ Blue cause they think she’s a witch.”
“Best get on with it, then. I’ll take care of this,” Sundara told Ashiko. He hopped down from his barstool and, coffee mug in hand, sat down across from this mystery girl.
“Hi!” the mystery girl said. Her chipper, disarming tone almost got to Sundara, but the promise of twenty dollars steeled his nerves.
“Morning,” Sundara said back, “I’m doing… an investigation in this town, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Okay!” the girl said, idly swinging her feet back and forth. “What do you need?”
“What’s your name?-”
“Mardan!” the girl answered before Sundara had even finished his sentence, “Mardan Atalanta. That’s my name!”
“Nice to meet you, Mardan,” Sundara found himself acting much more cordial than he intended, “I’m Sundara. Now, we’ve been getting reports of local wildlife-”
“Oh, I’m not local,” Mardan said, “Even though the wildlife here is really cool! I’m from Pantano.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! I’m here on a vision quest!”
“Fascinating. Are you sure this is the best place to talk about something that personal?” asked Sundara, going in for the kill.
“That’s a good point,” Mardan said, “You seem like a guy who has a lot of good points. Let’s get out of here.”
Mardan hopped off her stool and skipped outside, without grabbing a coat or anything. Sundara followed after her, bracing himself against the cold.
Ashiko shared a look with the owner, who slid her a twenty-dollar bill.
“That went surprisingly well.”
---------------------------
Next Chapter
Previous Chapter
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sensei-aishitemasu · 5 years ago
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2020 Black-Owned Gift Guide!
2020 Black-Owned Gift Guide!
It’s that time again! Our SIXTH ANNUAL BLACK-OWNED GIFT GUIDE IS HERE!!!! This Black Friday, try and support a Black-owned business for all your gift-giving needs. For last years gift guide, click here. For the 2018 gift guide, click here. For the 2017 gift guide, click here. For the 2016 gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here.
Similar to previous lists, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves: all businesses listed are Black-owned, and many are run by Black women, Black Americans specifically, manufactured here in the United States, and/or sustainably and ethically sourced with philanthropic causes attached to sales! Check them out. 
In addition, this year there are THREE NEW CATEGORIES! Check out items for the ‘Goth/Kawaii,’ for your ‘Activist Bae,’ and for the ‘Esoteric’ down below.
[As always, this guide has been split into categories to make it easier to get through, but feel free to mix and match for the person in your life that fits all of (or none of!) these categories!]
For the Homebody:
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Lettie Gooch Small Safety Matches, $18 Lettie Gooch Amber & Moss Soy Candle, $20 Lettie Gooch White Concrete White Tea & Ginger Candle, $28 Lettie Gooch Planetarium Throw Blanket, $68 Lettie Gooch Soleil Throw Blanket, $68
Debra Cartwright ‘Bike’ Watercolor Print, $38 Debra Cartwright ‘Aura’ Watercolor Print, $87 Debra Cartwright ‘Astro Millennial Ladies in Quarantine’ Coloring Book, $5
Harlem Candle Company ‘Brownstone’ Luxury Candle, $45 Harlem Candle Company ‘Lenox’ Luxury Room Spray, $30 Harlem Candle Company ‘Langston’ Luxury Room Spray, $30
Jungalow Genie Vase, $89 Jungalow Handwoven Peach Planter, $49 Jungalow Azul Face Pillow by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $89 Jungalow Soft Mint Pillow, $89 Jungalow Aja Wallpaper in Green by Justina Blakeney, $5 (per sheet) Jungalow Tigris Wallpaper in Onyx by Justina Blakeney, $5 (per sheet) Jungalow Cream Looped Wool Rug, $99.00 Jungalow Silvia Teal & Berry Rug by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $69.00 Jungalow Striped Orange Outdoor Rug, $59.00 Jungalow Reindeer Games Hook Pillow by Justina Blakeney, $60.00 Jungalow Peace Vase by Justina Blakeney, $68.00 
Kashmir Viii ‘S is for Soul’ Print, $35-$45 
Galerie LA Rooted Incense Holder, $45
Duchess365 358 Art Print, $23.99 
Jeff Manning Art ‘Aplomb’ Art Print, $45 Jeff Manning Art ‘Pacific’ Art Print, $30
Kicky Mats ‘Get Naked’ Bath Mat, $30 Kicky Mats ‘Did You Wash Your Hands?’ Doormat, $50 Kicky Mats ‘Go Away, Come Back With Wine’ Doormat, $50 Kicky Mats ‘Did You Call First?’ Doormat, $50
228 Grant Street Candle Co. Tobacco + Patchouli Gold Travel Tin, $11 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Wild Blackberry + Absinthe Amber Jar, $21 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Oakmoss + Amber Apothecary Jar, $32
Shea Makery Strawberry Cheesecake Signature Candle, $40 Shea Makery Cinna-Bowl Signature Candle, $40
The Silver Room Cider and Cedar Leaf Candle, $34 The Silver Room Rose Water & Tea Leaves Diffuser, $28 The Silver Room Minnie Ripperton - Les Fleur Vinyl, $26
Rituals + Ceremony Anonomy Sculptures, $79 Rituals + Ceremony USB Travel Ultrasonic Essential Oil Diffuser, $25
Handcrafted Ceramic Watering Cans, $64
Fill More Waste Less Natural Loofah Sponge, $2.50 Fill More Waste Less Food Huggers, $12. 99 
Ment Nelson Backwoods Baptism Print, $50 Ment Nelson Old Sheldon Print, $40
Quarantine Games!
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Trading Races, $19.99
Winsults, $25
Cards For All People - Black Card Revoked (First Edition), $17.99
Trap Wars - The Urban Game Night Experience, $22.99
Lyrically Correct 90's & 2000's Hip Hop/R&B Edition, $24.99
Black Wall Street - The Black History Board Game, $49.99
Pull Your Card Music Trivia: Hip Hop Edition, $14.99
Spill It Card Game, $23
'Verified' A Party Game for Social Media Lovers (Original Edition), $19.99
For the Foodie:
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Kashmir Viii ‘The Black Power’ Mixtape Coasters, $40 Kashmir Viii ‘Reclaim It’ Mug, $16 Kashmir Viii ‘I Slay.’ Clutch, $45 
Galerie LA Peak and Valley Balance Blend, $30 
‘The Cooking Gene,’ by Michael W. Twitty, $28.99 
‘From Crook to Cook: Platinum Recipes From the Boss Dog’s Kitchen’ by Snoop Dogg, $24.95 
Essie Spice Signature Sauce Collection, $42 
‘Your Guide to Tasteful Manners’ with Love Cork Screw, $19.95 
‘Deliciously Vegan’ Cookbook by The Chic Natural, $28.95 
EAT Apron, $30
Midnight Reflections Crowned White Ceramic Mug, $19.99
The Spice Suite Utensils + Oven Mitts, $50 The Spice Suite ‘The Little Black Spice Book’ (E-book), $30
Rituals + Ceremony Circle Mug, $40 Rituals + Ceremony Agate 6pc Plate Set, $24
Blk + Grn Stainless Steel Tea Ball Infuser, $4
Fill More Waste Less Reusable Tea Strainer, $14.99
Good Thoughts Tea Co. Tea Spoon Set, $12
KazvareMadeIt Personalised Alphabet Mug Tile Print, $20.99 KazvareMadeIt Banananana Cushion, $55.80
Addie Rawr ‘Addie's Cocktail Collection’ (Cards & Prints), $3.75
For the Beauty Guru:
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Lettie Gooch Blends Perfume: Earth, $30 Lettie Gooch Bloom Perfume Blend No. 586, $48 
Galerie LA Hand Sanitizer, $10 Galerie LA Cream Cleanser, $16 Galerie LA Citrine Sea Tropical Exfoliator, $18 Galerie LA Botanica Rose Roller, $14 Galerie LA Botanica Lavender Roller, $14 Galerie LA Aurora Superfood Elixer (Face Serum), $27 Galerie LA Jade Eye Mask, $44 Galerie LA Rose Quartz Facial Roller, $28.00 
Shea Makery Scar Healing Serum, $23 Shea Makery Cinnamon Bun Body Butter, $25 Shea Makery Glazed Donut Body Butter, $25 Shea Makery Milk + Honey + Syrup Bubble Bath, $22 Shea Makery Honeycomb Bath Set, $16
The Lip Bar Cheek and Eye Palette, $15  The Lip Bar ‘Goddess’ Lipgloss, $14 The Lip Bar ‘Bawse Lady’ Liquid Matte Lipstick, $13  The Lip Bar ‘4:00 Stuntin' Fast Face Kit,’ $99 The Lip Bar Limited Edition Easy Holiday Glam Collection, $25  The Lip Bar ‘Lip Bar Littles,’ $18.99 The Lip Bar Minimalist Lovers Bundle, $36
Auda B. Beauty Soy Polish Remover, $26 
Breukelen Polished ‘Paid and Full,’ $11 Breukelen Polished ‘Get Me Right’ Treatment Set, $25
Beauty Bakerie ‘Milk & Honey’ Highlighting Brush, $18 Beauty Bakerie ‘Coffee and Cocoa’ Bronzer Palette, $38 Beauty Bakerie ‘Black Egg-cellence’ Beauty Sponges, $18  Beauty Bakerie ‘Sugar Cookies’ Palette, $28 Beauty Bakerie ‘The Butter’ Hydrasilk Primer, $24
Mented Mini Brush Trio, $10 Mented Everyday Eyeshadow Palette, $28 Mented Brush Collection, $45 Mented Holiday Faves Trio, $50
Blac Minerals Highlight Bundle, $32 
Danessa Myricks Beauty Oil, $30  Danessa Myricks Waterproof Cream Palettes, $36 Danessa Myricks Luxe Cream Palettes ‘The Nudist,’ $44
Pear Nova ‘Holiday Essentials’ Nail Set, $90 
Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Voodoo, $18  Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Midnight Cowboy, $18 Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Black Orpheus, $18 Habit Cosmetics Nail Polish in Scarab, $18
Hunny Bunny Cuticle Cream, $4.50 Hunny Bunny Grapefruit Sugar Scrub, $20
Taupe Coat in Good Fortune, $11
More Brands To Try:
People of Color Beauty
Mischo Beauty
Suite Eleven
Brown Butter Beauty
Beija Flor Naturals
Plain Jane Beauty
Ancient Cosmetics
Hue Noir
Lotus Moon Skincare
For the Fashion Conscious:
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Merit ‘Fate’ Bucket Hat, $20
Chris Cardi Signature TwistDYE Tee, $33
Lettie Gooch Black Mineral Washed Jacquard Leggings, $68 Lettie Gooch ‘Smiling On The Inside’ Mask, $28
Kashmir Viii Face Masks, $16 Kashmir Viii ‘Around The Way Girl’ Clutch, $45-$60
Galerie LA Hemp Tie Button Down Sage, $90 Galerie LA Gratia Jumpsuit Tumeric, $100 Galerie LA Red Zipper Wallet, $45 Galerie LA Dopp Kitt (Makeup Bag) in Navy, $40 Galerie LA Lunar Star Earrings, $100 Galerie LA Meria Sunglasses Coral Pink, $75 Galerie LA Oda Ring, $45 Galerie LA Sabbath Cocoon Tunic, $85
Tree Fairfax Keychain, $22.50 Tree Fairfax Lois Belt, $45
LoveCortnie Polka Dot Leather Key Chain Clasps, $15 LoveCortnie Small Leather Tassel, $17 LoveCortnie ‘Color Me’ Coin Purse, $30 LoveCortnie Envelope Card Holder (Black & White), $32
Rue 107 ‘Toni’ Bikini in XOXO Print, $98 Rue 107 Signature Pencil Skirt in XOXO Print, $68 Rue 107 Tied Cropped Tank in XOXO Print, $48 Rue 107 Tied Cropped Tank in Vintage Rose Print, $48 Rue 107 Signature Pencil Skirt in Vintage Rose Print, $68
Grant Blvd ‘Sustainable Shit Only’ Fanny Pack, $26
Ebony and Green Mindfulness Earrings, $10
For the Bookworm:
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‘Daymares’ by Kenya Moss-Dyme, $12.99
‘Hood Feminism’ by Mikki Kendall, $26
‘The Source of Self-Regard’ by Toni Morrison, $28.95
‘Tar Baby’ by Toni Morrison, $15
‘The Beautiful Ones’ by Prince, $30
‘In Her Hands: The Story of Sculptor Augusta Savage’ by Alan Schroeder, $12.95
‘The Street: A Novel’ by Ann Petry, $15.99
‘Chasing Down a Dream: A Blessings Novel’ by Beverly Jenkins, $14.99
‘Rebel (Women Who Dare)’ by Beverly Jenkins, $5.98
‘Night Song’ by Beverly Jenkins, $8.99
‘Tempest’ by Beverly Jenkins, $5.98
‘Our Black Year: One Family's Quest to Buy Black in America's Racially Divided Economy’ by Maggie Anderson, $17
Rayo and Honey ‘Books Change Your Mind’ Pennant, $75
Jungalow Face Bookend Vase by Justina Blakeney, $98
Midnight Reflections Black Nerd Tote Bag, $18.99
Addie Rawr Book Club Dolls Stickers (Die Cut Stickers), $9.50
For the Kids:
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Jungalow Leela Terracotta Rug by Justina Blakeney X Loloi, $89.00 Jungalow Pink Looped Wool Rug, $99.00
Galerie LA Kids Face Mask, $25
Duchess365 237 Canvas Print, $98.99 Duchess365 231 Tote Bag, $24.99 Duchess365 279 Art Print, $23.99 Duchess365 241 Framed Art Print, $47.99
Shea Makery PB & J Soap, $10 Shea Makery ‘Save A Life’ Mini Assorted Hand Soaps (Set of 12), $5
Little Leaders: Bold Women in Black History, $16.99
‘Clean Getaway’ by Nic Stone, $16.99
‘Bee Fearless: Dream Like a Kid’ by Mikaela Ulmer, $16.19
ABC Me Flashcards, $20
IkdKids Rag Doll, $40
KaAn’s ‘Living The Dream’ Denim Jacket, $40
Yinibini Baby Badminton Playing Octopus Tee, $23 Yinibini Baby Fox Pullover Sweatshirt Jogger Set, $41 Yinibini Baby ROAR Lion Hooded Pullover, $45 Yinibini Narwhal Toy, $28
For the Masculine:
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ALWD Signature DC PROPER Sweatshirt, $40
Chris Cardi ‘Bastards’ Tee, $30.03
Merit Flannel Shirt (Green), $65
Kashmir Viii ‘Everybody Eats, B,’ Tee, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘The Knockout’ Tee, $45
Galerie LA ‘Mister’ T-Shirt, $45
Jeff Manning Art ‘Overflow’ Art Print, $30 Jeff Manning Art ‘The Golden Age’ Art Print, $45 Jeff Manning Art ‘Overflowed Emotions’ Art Print, $50
Levi Fisher Beard Bundle, $39.99
Scotch Porter Face Care Collection, $28.99 Scotch Porter Journal, $9.99
Shea Makery Beard Oil, $15
Enbois Matte Lava Rock Bracelet, $40 Enbois Benji Matte Sunglasses, $45 Enbois Bracelets Collection - Cocoa, $50
The Silver Room Tourer Backpack, $95
Urban Profile Black Panther Shirt, $24.99
Solo Noir Starter Kit, $28.99
Bevel Shave Starter Bundle, $89.95 Bevel Skin Starter Set, $61.95
For the Tech Savvy:
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Enbois iPhone Case, $12 Enbois Power Bank, $15 Enbois Grip Socket, $4
Chic Geeks Brown Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $75 Chic Geeks Brown Snakeskin iPad Case, $75 Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile iPhone Case, $50 Chic Geeks Grey Marble MacBook Case, $80 Chic Geeks Black Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $75
Khristian A. Howell Cava Melon Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99 Khristian A. Howell Cava Black Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99
NSPRE ‘Inferno’ Bluetooth Sunglasses, $71.99 NSPRE Micro SD Card (128GB), $21.98 NSPRE ‘The Ombres’ Bluetooth Audio Sunglasses, $59.99  NSPRE ‘The Solars’ Bluetooth BlueTech Glasses, $59.99
For the Goth/Kawaii:
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VickiBeWicked Vinyl Sticker Heart Drippy Mushroom, Laptop Decal, $4 VickiBeWicked Rainbow Unicorn, Black Girl Magic Laptop Sleeve, $30.99 VickiBeWicked AfroGirls Masked Up Laptop Sleeve, $30.99 VickiBeWicked Pastel Horn Face Resin Keychain, $12.99 VickiBeWicked Red and White Splatter Skull Dangle Earrings, $7.50
Kashmir Viii ‘The KeKe’ Print, $35-$60
Adorned by Chi ‘Goth Club Presidenct’ Unisex Raglan T-Shirt, $34.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Pro Black’ Unisex Raglan T-Shirt, $34.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Pretty Girls Like Anime’ T-Shirt, $32.99 Adorned by Chi ‘Awkward’ Iron-On Patch, $11.99 Adorned by Chi ‘I Need My Space’ Hard Enamel Pin, $12.99
The Colour Polka Dot iPhone XS ‘Creepy Cute’ Rainbow Phone Case, $40 The Colour Polka Dot ‘Creepy Cute’ Spoopy Ornaments, $12 The Colour Polka Dot ‘Kawaii Cute’ Face Mask Case, $16
Embrii Shop Blush Pink Laptop Sleeve, $36
Gothic Lamb Anti Social Goth Club Tee, $28 Gothic Lamb ‘FedUp’ Tee, $24 Gothic Lamb ‘Make America Goth Again’ Tee, $28 Gothic Lamb ‘Melanin Manson’ Tee, $24
For the Esoteric:
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Behati Life Third Eye Vision And Prophetic Dreams Intention Oil, $22 Behati Life New Moon Bath Soak Herbal Mix, $22 Behati Life Lunar Goddess Moon Magick Intention Oil, $22
Lettie Gooch Ecuadorian Palo Santo Quartz Crystal Bundle, $18
Jungalow Chaya Wallpaper in Amethyst by Justina Blakeney, $5
The Silver Room White Sage Bundle, $6
Grandma Baby's Black Gold Lenormand Tarot Deck, $44
Pretty Spirits ‘The Truth’ Decks, $50
The Afro Tarot, $88
The Hoodoo Tarot: 78-Card Deck and Book for Rootworkers by Tayannah Lee McQuillar, $18.66
‘Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success’ by Tayannah Lee McQuillar, $11.99
Rituals + Ceremony Palo Santo Pack, $7 Rituals + Ceremony Empowered Vibes Ceramic Incense Holder, $10 Rituals + Ceremony Adinkra Intention Candles, $23 Rituals + Ceremony Cleanse and Protect Ritual Kit, $34 Rituals + Ceremony Crystal Candles, $22 Rituals + Ceremony Crystal Bliss: Attract Love, Feed Your Spirit, Manifest Your Dreams Book, $14.99
Ebony and Green Raw Clear Quartz Earrings, $15
For Your Activist Bae:
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Kashmir Viii ‘Kash’s Bacon Shack’ Clutch, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘Copy and Paste’ Tee, $45 Kasmir Viii ‘We Did It First’ Stickers, $5.25-$20 Kashmir Viii ‘Reclaim It’ Clock, $45 Kashmir Viii ‘The Black Family’ Tee, $45
Jeff Manning Art ‘MLK’ Art Print, $35 Jeff Manning Art ‘We Shall Prevail’ Art Print, $45
‘The Spook Who Sat By The Door’ by Sam Greenlee, $21.99 ‘The Black Panthers Speak,’ $20 The Black Power Mixtape: 1967-1975, $22.95 A Beautiful Ghetto by Devin Allen, $26.95 ‘Are Prisons Obsolete?’ by Angela Davis, $15.95
Angela Davis T-Shirt, $25
Legendary Rootz ‘Black Girls Are The Purest Form of Art’ Tee, $25
Alex Carter ‘BLACK BUSINESS OWNERSHIP’ Tee, $50
Rayo and Honey ‘Much To Be Done & Undone’ Pennant, $75 Rayo and Honey ‘Black Lives Matter’ Pennant, $75 Rayo and Honey ‘Joy Is An Act Of Resistance’ Tote Bag, $65
‘They Carried Us: The Social Impact of Philadelphia’s Black Women Leaders’ by Allener M. Baker-Rogers & Fasaha M. Traylor, $ 28.99
Midnight Reflections Black Radical Woman Tank, $25.00
The Colour Polka Dot ‘Fuck Racism’ Resin Heart Keychain, $8
Rituals + Ceremony Be The Change Scented Candle, $24
Grant Blvd ‘Disrupter’ Tee, $30 Grant Blvd ‘End Cash Bail’ Hoodie, $54 
Cards, Notebooks and Wrapping Paper + Holiday Ornaments:
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VickiBeWicked ‘Skull Santa’ and Candy Cane Greeting Cards, $2
Harlem Candle Company Set of 10 Vintage Nightclub Greeting Cards, $30
Kashmir Viii ‘Nina En Printemps’ (Nina Simone) Notebook, $14 Kashmir Viii ‘Boo Yow!’ Notebook, $14
Midnight Reflections Wrapping Paper 3-pack, $26.97
Midnight Reflections Claus Ceramic Ornaments, $15.99
Midnight Reflections Emoji Black Santa Christmas Stockings, $24.99
Bylianarae Note Cards, $15
KazvareMadeIt Rap Lines Inspirational Coloring Book, $18.20 KazvareMadeIt Lemonade Notebook, $18.20 KazvareMadeIt Fried Egg Wallpaper, $4.88 KazvareMadeIt Diamond Retro Wrapping Paper, $4.88
Khristian A. Howell ‘Speak To Me’ Wallpaper, $12 (sample pack) Khristian A. Howell ‘Palm Springs’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Sonar’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Twinkle’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Ansley Park’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Rosy’ Holiday Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Long Weekend’ Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell ‘Bonjour’ Card Set (10 pk), $18
GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ HOHOHO Gift Wrap, $7.50 GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ Do Not Open Gift Wrap, $7.50 GreenTop Gifts ‘Clarence Claus’ Candy Canes and Trees Gift Wrap, $7.50
Addie Rawr 2021 Planners (Preorder), $30 Addie Rawr The Great Gratitude Journal, $20 Addie Rawr The Great Gratitude Journal, $20
206 notes · View notes
lumionzhome · 2 years ago
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Ceramic Lips Planter: Combine the elegance of ceramics with the whimsy of lip-shaped planters. These hydroponic vases not only nurture your plants but also serve as eye-catching pieces of art in your home.
0 notes
southernchicstyle · 4 years ago
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Swan Princess Party
A magical black and white swan princess party with pink, of course!
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The idea of a swan party was inspired by the swan pool float we have had for a few years. It just so happened my daughter was into Barbie’s Swan Princess movie when I started planning her 4th birthday.
So, the swan idea came to life around swans and princesses  - feathers, ballet shoes (as an ode to Swan Lake), swans, and black and white accented with pink. Cake by Wink by Erika with added “4″ candle, photos by Johnny Than.
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Black linens on the table with our white charivari chairs pulled in the colors perfectly! And, the cute swan plates looked great on the black linens. To turn the swan plates into swan princess plates, I found gold crowns and added them to the plates. Ta-da! Swan princess plates. We added the gold crowns to the swan masks, as well.
Behind the kids’s table, we hung silk wisteria on fishing line to have a hanging floral accent. It took way more pieces than I imagined (and I still wish I’d done more of them), but it was a fun photo spot.
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The  centerpieces were one of my all time favorites! I found the set of three swans in different sizes and ordered 2. My mom arranged the fresh flowers for the party and put them in the swan planters.
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The food even reflected the black, white, and pink theme! Black licorice, chocolates, and chocolate goldfish were spread with yogurt covered pretzels, vanilla sugar wafers, iced animal cookies, vanilla ding dongs, white M&Ms, mini white chocolate Oreos, white chocolate covered mini Rice Krispie treats, white swirl suckers, white chocolate truffles, and pink M&Ms on my favorite melamine platter.
Another tray had the almost black colored grapes and an assortment of white cheeses, marcona almonds, macadamia nuts, and Pirate’s Booty.
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We also used black rock candy in a container with more of the white chocolate pearls.  And, I found a great jewelry stand to display powdered donuts and chocolate donuts. Now the jewelry stand holds my daughter’s headbands.
White feather boas were great for draping around platters and decorations. And, we used the same flowers from our daughter’s Garden Party first birthday to add pink accents to the feathers (seriously the best faux peonies I’ve ever found).
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For decorated cookies, I chose a “4″ for the 4 year old along with a feather and swans. These were done by Sweets by Shey and were tasty and on theme. She even added a little sparkle to the 4s.
The tiered serving piece has become my go-to piece for the decorated cookies at the parties, so I’m linking it here.
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Another tray of food included White Cheddar Cheez-its, Pirates Booty, white cheddar popcorn, Chicken-in-a-Biscuit, Wheat Thins, and pink Goldfish to continue the white and pink foods.
I really enjoy carrying a theme all throughout the party, if you can’t tell.
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I found the cutest swan cups for all of the kids that we kept on the beverage table alongside “Swan Lake Lemonade” (pink, of course!) and the cutest swan mugs from Manor used for additional florals.
The floral swan printable sign was perfectly on theme and is linked here.
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In addition to the feather and floral decor, we used swan stuffed animals like the ballerina swan pictured below from Manor.
Isn’t she a beauty with her crown and ballet slippers?!?
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Now to discuss my sweet girl’s dress! 
Every year Cuteheads makes a custom piece for the birthday girl to wear. This year, Esther must have read my mind because she created this piece that was perfect for a Swan Princess Ballerina party - light pink tulle with swans all over accessorized with ballet flats and a peony hair piece. 
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Our swan princess ballerina was overjoyed when Rapunzel showed up to let her know Odette from Swan Lake sends birthday wishes! Fairest of All Parties has the BEST princesses in the Houston area. They worked with me tirelessly to try to have Odette from Swan Lake, but the costume was nowhere to be found and there was not enough time to create one. 
My daughter’s favorite princess at the time was Rapunzel, so it was a welcome surprise for her. Rapunzel sang (beautifully) with the kids, told stories, and shared a treasure chest of treasures. She even did face painting on the kids. 
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We loved her so much, we used Fairest of All Parties for the 5th birthday (post coming soon) and are now planning number 6 with another Fairest of All Parties princess. 
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Favors for the kids included a swan princess holder, swan princess “Thank You” sticker, princess crown full of candy, princess lip balm, princess rings, princess bracelets, and stickers tied with tulle.
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Here’s a complete source list of all of the party things:
Ballet Slippers $35
Ballet Shoes (on birthday girl) $14.59
Balloon Garland (used black, silver, & white on balloon tape accented with greenery and feathers) 
Black linens (pintuck taffeta): Round $28, Rectangle $30
Candle (pink number 4) $6
Cake: Wink by Erika
Ceramic Swan Mugs: The Manor $20
Cookies: Sweets  by Shey
Dress: Cuteheads
Feathers: 12-14″ $12.99, 5-7″ $7.50
Feather Boas $8.59
Feather Garland $11.69
Flowers (hanging silk wisteria, 6 pieces) $12.99
Gold Crown Stickers (pack of 100) $11.85
Invites $8 (pdf & printed at Katie & Co.)
Ostrich Feathers (12-14″, 10 pieces) $12.99
Peonies $9.99 per bunch
Peony Hairpiece $15.98
Princess: Fairest of All Parties
Princess Crown in Favors (12 count) $12.99
Princess Lip Balm (8 count) $7.32
Princess Ring (36 count) $13.99
Rose Gold Cups, Plates, & Silverware (150 count) $27.99
Rose Gold Crowns (12 pack) $8.99
Swan Backdrop $18.90
Swan Ballerina: The Manor
Swan Cake: Wink by Erika
Swan Centerpieces (set of 3) $34.99
Swan Cupcake Toppers (12 pack) $12.07
Swan Cups with Straws (set of 8) $20.58
Swan Lake Lemonade Printable Sign (Invite designer made it at my request)
Swan Masks/Photo Glasses $4.99
Swan Plates (set of 6) $2.39
Swan Princess Favor Box (set of 6) $3.77
Swan Thank You Stickers (40 count) $8.99
Swan Yard Signs (10 count) $39.99
Photos by Johnny Than
                       _______________________________________
BIRTHDAY ARCHIVES
3rd Birthday: Sundae Funday
2nd Birthday: Bubble Bash
1st Birthday: Garden Party (I managed to never share these... will have to post them once I catch up on parties for you all)
9 notes · View notes
theonlinemuse · 5 years ago
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And me and @freckledpianoman are back with more Beth Chapel content! Continuing from this post, here’s even more headcanons about our favourite Dr Mid-Nite: 
Beth is nearsighted and started wearing glasses when she was three and a half. Bridget started noticing that her daughter kept squinting all the time and eventually took her to an eye doctor, attributing Beth needing glasses so early to all the times that she hid under the covers with a flashlight and read late into the night instead of sleeping 
Her prescription is really strong and while her glasses correct most of her vision, she still needs accommodations like enlarged and high contrast texts and other visual aids 
Chuck eventually becomes another accommodation since he acts as a cross between telescopic and magnifying glasses and a talking watch 
She’s fluent in French thanks to her grandma Beatrice’s influence and she can carry a conversation in Spanish (she picked it up from Bridget, who often talks with her patients in Spanish) and Norwegian. That last language throws people off when they first hear about it, but it comes in handy when four-year-old Pieter Cross and his family (who don’t speak much English) move to Blue Valley from Trondheim, Norway 
Yolanda grumbles about not being able to talk to Beth in Spanish class whenever she’s home sick from school because she's the one decent conversation partner she has in that class
Rick often practices translating for his French class with Beth. Once he goofed and said “madame le docteur”. And poor Beth was close to shaking him and going, “Rick, that's wrong on so many levels” 
He knows by the incredulous look on her face that he’s all sorts of wrong and he blushes all embarrassed. But later he mistranslates on purpose just to see her adorable reactions 
She wants to pick up more languages eventually (she’s deciding if she wants to take both Mandarin and Arabic in college like her dad did) and is currently learning ASL 
Beth is a Star Trek fan thanks to her dad’s influence. She and James would watch reruns of Deep Space Nine while she was growing up and it was their way of bonding. While that tradition didn’t happen as often when Beth started high school, she and Yolanda (who had watched Voyager with her brother and cousins) eventually start a tradition of watching Star Trek Discovery 
Beth and Yolanda’s love for Star Trek is often a point of contention with Rick and Courtney, who are both Star Wars fans. It’s been the subject of a lot of arguments about what to watch for JSA marathons. Pat is usually the tie breaker 
Beth learned how to garden from her grandma Beatrice, who raises African violets in her rooftop garden. Beth’s backyard isn’t big enough for a garden so instead she keeps all sorts of plants in her room, including little teacup succulents on her bedroom windowsill and in honeycomb shelves 
While her backyard’s too small for a garden, there’s a pink dogwood tree and she loves reading and having picnics under it when it’s in bloom. In the summer Beth makes her own butterfly feeders and hang them from the tree and watch the butterflies gather 
She grew up listening to Schoolhouse Rock thanks to her dad, who would play their songs in the kitchen whenever he made breakfast on Saturday mornings while she was growing up. Even now, Beth sings along to them whenever she hears them and Chuck starting adding them to karaoke mode, including her favourites “Three is a Magic Number”, “The Tale of Mr Morton”, and “The Energy Blues” 
When she was in middle school, she started using the melody of Schoolhouse Rock songs to memorize things like country names and the periodic table. She used the latter to help Rick memorize different elements for his chem class. Yolanda actually caught Rick softly singing to himself at his locker when he was searching for his notes for one last read through 
“Beth got you to sing? Willingly?” “I wasn't singing, you’re hearing things.”
Courtney is weirded out by the fact that Beths texts with Mike of all people, but it's mostly through gifs, emojis, and random memes. She has no idea what they even talk about, saying that Beth texts with Mike more often than she does with Rick, much to the latter’s annoyance. In reality Beth and Mike talk about robotics competitions, the latest episode of whatever they were binging (this week was Julie and the Phantoms), and their ongoing bet on when Courtney and Yolanda will finally get together
If Beth wins, Mike has to help upgrade her costume and if he wins, she owes him an ice cream cake 
“It's like their own little nerd language, it makes no sense.” 
Her style icon when she was little was Ms Frizzle. Beth thought that Ms Frizzle’s themed dresses and jewellery were so cool and she wanted to dress up like her. She still loves Ms Frizzle’s style and you can see the influence it has on Beth’s fashion from bright colours, unique patterns, and quirky jewellery 
Beth has a special section in her closet for Ms Frizzle like outfits that she wears to the children’s library she volunteers at. It makes her very popular with the kids there 
She actually dressed up as Ms Frizzle for Halloween in seventh grade 
Despite being on opposite sides, Beth and Cindy have a begrudging respect for each other similar to Betty and Wilhelmina’s relationship on Ugly Betty, Beth being the JSA member that Cindy tolerates the most
Cindy begrudgingly thinks that she does know a thing or two about fashion because she often upcycles clothes. Courtney’s surprised that Beth’s still alive after she said that Cindy dresses like an evil PTA mom within earshot, though she did kidnap Beth a few times for a shopping spree 
“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!” “Did you just quote Mean Girls?”  
The first time they had a standoff, Cindy went “please, I’m Japanese, you’re Black, we’re not talking around this thing like a couple of dull white people” 
Cindy once called Rick a feral raccoon and smirked when it made Beth accidentally burst out laughing 
While Beth is more than confident with her personal style, but she’s still very new to makeup in general. Yolanda and Artemis (even Cindy much to everyone’s shock) have taken it upon themselves to help experiment with makeup and find out what she likes. Beth immediately knows that she doesn’t like mascara, even as Yolanda scolds her to stay still while she’s trying to put mascara on her
“You’re making it seem like I’m torturing you.” “Your superhero costume has claws, that doesn’t exactly scream safe.” “I’ll have you know I’m very practiced with my claws, now stay still!” 
Beth likes the lipsticks and glosses much better, she likes the different colours and how it feels on her lips 
She has to get used to the feeling of makeup on her face in general, but she doesn’t mind it and she’s shocked when she looks in the mirror. It’s still very much her, but it's like she’s glowing. She can’t stop smiling and the girls all look at her fondly 
And they also exchange knowing looks, knowing that Rick is going to lose his mind 
She did a history report on Bessie Coleman in middle school and she eventually drew inspiration for her Dr Mid-Nite costume from looking at photos of Bessie’s pilot outfit 
Beth and her mom often did ceramics classes when she was a kid. They weren’t very good at it at first, but the little lopsided knick knacks they made always made them laugh. Beth and Bridget got better over the years with Beth painting colours and patterns on whatever her mom helped her make before they went into the kiln. She thought they would be plain otherwise and Bridget agreed with her 
While ceramics classes have since stopped, they still use the honeycomb mugs and planters that they made and painted when Beth was in middle school. Bridget uses one for the aloe vera plant she keeps in her office at the hospital 
Beth is allergic to pineapple. She found out during a school trip in third grade when Henry offered some of his fruit salad and she ended up with a swollen face and tongue, which really freaked Artemis and Cindy out. Yolanda and the villain kids ended up taking care of her until the ambulance came and Beth jokes that it was the one time the JSA and ISA kids worked together on something 
She now carries an epipen in her backpack and Rick has taken to carrying a backup one in his jacket in case Beth can’t get to her backpack in time 
She had a stargazing phase that she never grew out of. Her parents got her a mini telescope for her fifth birthday and Bridget started teaching her about the solar system before Beth started learning about constellations on her own. Bridget jokes that if her daughter hadn’t been set on becoming a doctor, she would’ve gone into astrophysics 
Beth still has a telescope set up by her bedroom window. Sometimes when she has trouble sleeping and she’s not in the mood to read, she’ll look for constellations through the telescope while Chuck chimes in with little known star facts 
She also has a starry globe nightlight and a constellation globe
She and Rick sometimes have stargazing “dates” out on her back porch. They curl up together in a patio chair with midnight snacks while they watch meteor showers. Sometimes Yolanda and Courtney will join them, curled up together in the other patio chair  
Beth and Courtney often have karaoke nights at the Pit Stop after Pat souped up Barbara’s old karaoke machine. The usual playlist includes fun 80s and 90s jams as well as modern songs like Bruno Mars, Lizzo, and Janelle Monae. Yolanda often joins them for girl group songs (Little Mix is a favourite), even though she protests that she’s not much of a singer when she’s not singing Selena songs 
Rick gets roped into doing a song too, much to his dismay. Courtney pouts and complains that he has to because there’s an unspoken rule that everyone has to sing
“I don't sing, dammit.” “Oh really, are you forgetting about that little ditty you were singing before your chem test?” 
Beth sees how nervous Rick is and decides to go easy on him, finding a slow, bluesy song that he can keep up with and assuring him that even if he can’t croon those long deep notes, everyone will cheer him on. He ends up giving the best performance of the night, shocking the girls and impressing them all 
He blushes when he sees Beth looking at him all starry eyed 
When Beth was growing up, her family would have game night every Thursday and they were always old fashioned board games like Clue, Scrabble, and Pictionary. Whenever they would play Clue, Beth would always choose to be Miss Scarlett while her dad would switch between Professor Plum and Colonel Mustard. Beth could never beat her mom at Scrabble and it often ended up with Beth’s chemistry words versus Bridget’s medical terms 
While game nights have since stopped, James will sometimes have Beth join him for a card game at three or four in the morning after he comes back from a business trip. He taught her how to play games like crazy eights, gin rummy, and cribbage when she was in middle school and it’s now their way of catching up after he comes back from travelling  
Both her parents are only children. James’ family was originally from California before he moved to Nebraska for work while Bridget’s family are of Louisiana Creole descent and hail from Omaha. Beth is quite close to Bridget’s side of the family, especially with her second cousin Delphine’s family. Beth sometimes helps look after Delphine’s daughter Eliana whenever she and her husband are in town 
Rick once mistook Eliana for Beth’s baby, hilarity ensued
Beth has a love for animals and since the fandom has collectively decided that Beth is a Disney Princess, she has a particular talent for being an accidental animal tamer. During a mission, three of the ISA’s attack dogs made a beeline for her and attacked her with doggie kisses instead of doing their job 
The ISA are torn between being pissed (“when the hell did Mid-Nite become an animal tamer?”) and confused. Sportsmaster is vaguely impressed and takes it as a challenge 
Later they tried scaring Beth with a python, which only really worked on Yolanda (“oh my god, what is that?”) while Beth just boops the snake on its snout. The snake swooned. So did Rick 
After Rick and Yolanda recover from the shock, they look at the trio of attack dogs follow Beth all the way to the Pit Stop and go “we’re not keeping you”. Rick just hopes that the trio are the only attack dogs that follow her back home. He wishes that he had been more specific because he was not expecting an actual maned wolf suddenly coming up and sniffing all over Beth during a visit to the Dugan-Whitmores’ cabin
“What the fuck, where did that come from and why is it all over Beth?!” 
It turns out that Beth didn’t realize that she had a cookie in one of her pockets and the maned wolf caught a whiff of it and was now trying to find it. The way it sniffs her is ticklish and she’s laughing the entire time 
Once the maned wolf brought over a friend to see Beth and Courtney goes, “aww, he met another–oh my god, that’s a panther!” The panther also wanted one of Beth’s treats and it swooped in between her and Rick and started pawing at her like a spoiled kitten 
Rick picked Beth up and carried her inside because “we can’t trust her outside anymore” 
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Text
The question is inevitable. I stop wiping down the ice cream equipment and look up. For the past two years, that’s all anyone’s ever asked me. Now as I sit here, I realize that by this time next year, I’ll be preparing to move. By this time next year, the question “what do you want to study?” will be answered. The thought of growing up and going to college has always been in the back of my mind, but it always seemed far off. Now as my boss asks me the same question I’ve been asked a million times, the answer doesn’t just feel real; it feels tangible.
“I want to hopefully study something in the arts,” I reply. “I’m hoping to study to then get a job as a concept artist for movies and TV shows.”
"Well, you know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m three years old. I’m sitting at the kitchen table with white printer paper spread out all over the place. Half of the sheets are filled and the other half to go. My tongue sticks out in determined concentration as I finish what feels like my fiftieth self portrait today. I’m still not happy with how the hair looks, but I’m getting better with every one I make.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m eight years old. I wait nervously outside the classroom in the aquatic and community center for my first ever real drawing class. I wait until the door opens and file in behind the rest of my peers into the classroom. I find a spot a little further away from everyone else. Once the teacher begins instructing us on how to draw the basic construction of a horse, I immerse myself into the lecture. Soon enough my anxiety melts away as I immerse myself in the drawing. By the end, I’m not quite satisfied with how my horse looks, but I look forward to the next day. There’s still three more days of camp, and I’m ready to get even better tomorrow.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m twelve years old. I’m sitting with what feels like my entire body sunken into an overly plush floral print couch. I watch as Mrs. Scalabrino, a family friend, teaches me how to make a magic loop with the yarn and crochet hook. “I’ve been doing it all wrong! Now I finally understand!” Deb hands me the yarn and hook and urges me to try myself.
This time, instead of having the hook slip through and make a tiny slip stitch, I loop the yarn though and then pull through a final time to create a stitch.
“I did it! I was doing it wrong!”
“It looks very good! Keep going and you’ll be making full projects in no time!” I smile at her compliment and keep practicing.
By the end of the afternoon, I have a long rectangle of clumsily made single and double crochet stitches, but I don’t mind. I’m proud of my lumpy, uneven, handmade rectangle.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m thirteen years old. It’s my first time at Blue Lake Fine Arts camp, and I’m taking my first pottery class. I’m carefully carrying my freshly reglazed pot to the back room of the pottery studio after fixing it for a second time. The first time it got damaged I had dropped it after molding the structure and the second time someone else bumped into me, messing up the glaze and sgraffito pattern and glazing in multiple places. I stayed after class during my recreation time and painstakingly remolded and fixed the intricate glazing pattern.
At the end of the session art show, I’m called to the front of the crowd of visiting parents and my fellow campers. I’ve just won the Outstanding camper scholarship. My cheeks flush furiously with embarrassment, but inside I’m also elated. Even though the pot wasn’t perfect. I was still proud of it. I worked hard to save and fix the pot twice broken, and for once, that work pays off. I look out and see the faces of everyone who was with me on the journey to complete the piece, and I know that that pot will always be more than a keepsake planter.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m fifteen years old. I lay in bed before my first day of high school. I should be worried about my academic classes, and I am. I can’t stop thinking about the homework for my double paced math class and honors biology, and the more advanced reading we’ll do in honors english this year.
I console myself by thinking about the art class that I’m going to take. By chance there was a scheduling conflict with my social studies credit, and there wasn’t a spot to fit it in. I’d have to test out of the class over the summer, but that meant that I could take Art 1 instead. I stay up and wonder what it will be like. Will it be like my art classes in middle school? Will I finally be able to try oil painting? What about ceramics?
I drift off to sleep anxious, but ready to try all new mediums and make more; to be able to create amongst all the chaos that comes with advanced academic studies.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
I’m sixteen years old. I’m almost finished with what was supposed to be my sophomore year, but because of the pandemic, quarantine has made the past month of march even more grey and dreary than normal. The trees outside droop with the heaviness of the recent freezing rain and the sky is a somber grey. I stare absentmindedly at my computer screen waiting for my last zoom meeting of the day to end.
I return to my painting once I log off of our AP Art zoom. I glare at the canvas in front of me. I hate this piece. Even the dull grey color palette outside seems more appetizing than the same oranges and blues that I’ve stared at for the past three months. It’s the feeling in the pit of the stomach when you don’t feel particularly welcome and you know something is off. The dynamic is all wrong and you infuriatingly search the faces of the people there for an answer but to no avail.
I sigh and start to reach for my paints to force myself to push through to a solution, but set them down. “There has to be another way to get through this,” I say to myself as I open my sketchbook against my better judgement. After a quick image reference search, My pencil migrates from the jar to the page. I don’t worry about making it perfect. This piece is just for me.
I sketch out the figures of the boy and girl and boy in the photo, their arms intertwined in an embrace and their lips in a gentle kiss. I make sure her thumb just skims the length of his forearm and that his hand is placed just so on her waist. I step back. We’re getting somewhere.
Long since abandoned for my previous acrylic piece, my colored pencils feel slippery and foreign in my hand. I reach for the tan and brown colored pencils to start, but the bright fuschia red catches my eye. I cautiously begin to apply it to the girl’s face and neck area. Perfect. I don’t stop until the shadows crossing the girl’s face are all shades of pink and red and the boys silhouette is coated in deep blues. What next?
My watercolor palette sits just inches from my paints. I open it and observe my options. I water down a bright pink, an ocean blue, and my untouched cake of deep purple watercolor. I haphazardly splash the pink on one side and the blue on the other, applying purple to blend the area where the two seas of paint mix. I remember an old painters trick of using salt to make cool backgrounds, and apply a generous amount. The scissors come out next, and I delicately cut the form of the girl and boy out. I paste it right on the background and let it sit under a book overnight to press.
In the morning, I observe my work. It’s not perfect. The proportions on the girl’s arm are off and I never quite managed to capture the folds on the boy’s shirt, but I smile. I love it. This is my piece. No one told me to make this. I just did. It’s for me.
My abandoned assignment sits waiting on the other side of the table. I look at it again. This time I do see what’s missing. Like I did while I was working with the pencil, I need to add more depth. That’s why I hate it. That’s why it felt flat and boring. I set my new opus aside and reach for the beaten up acrylic brushes and paint tubes.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
The computer screen finally loads. I'm exhausted and have just returned from a missions trip to the Dominican Republic, but in my blissful sleep back in my own bed, I'd remembered that AP scores had come out while I was away. The three numbers I've waited for loom in front of me:
AP Spanish Language: 5
AP Language and Composition: 4
AP Studio Art: 4
A four.
I stare in disbelief at the screen. I'd expected a three at best. I rush to tell my parents.
“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”
***
"Yeah, I know," I respond. "But it's so much more than that to me."
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shadowywerewolfqueen · 5 years ago
Text
Autumn Invading
For Suptober Day 17
Dean was driving home from work and couldn’t help but enjoy the change in scenery. Fall had finally arrived and the trees were now an array of oranges, reds, and yellows. Acorns littered the ground and every time you stepped, there was a chorus of crackles. The chill of the morning was now lasting throughout the day and the sun was taking longer every day to sink beneath the horizon. Dean and his husband were finally able to sit out on the porch at night and watch the squirrels, deer, and other animals start preparing for winter. 
Dean finished the last of his pumpkin cream cold brew he had ordered from Starbucks. It was one of his favorite fall menu items as it tasted like a liquid pumpkin pie. Dean smiled gleefully as he thought about all the pies he would be able to make now that fall was here. There was pumpkin, of course, plus pecan, apple, sweet potato, cranberry apple, and so many more. Dean was drooling just thinking about all of the delicious pies.
He pulled into the driveway of his home a few minutes later. His eyes went wide as he took in all the decorations his husband had put up. “Cas, I think you went a little overboard,” he whispered to himself.
There were half a dozen hay bales sitting in the front yard. Every bale had a scarecrow behind it, a metal turkey on top of it, and was surrounded by a cornucopia of pumpkins, multicolored ears of corn, and squashes. Cas had also moved some of his potted plants from the back yard and interspersed them between the hay bales to bring in a splash of yellow and red. 
Cas had hung a garland made of maple leaves, pumpkins, berries, pinecones, and sunflowers over the porch railing and around the door. There was a matching wreath hanging on the front of the door, a sign in the middle of it reading, “Happy Fall, Ya’ll.” He had also set up multiple planters with pumpkins and leaves in them on both sides of the porch steps. Along the top of the railing, he had placed lanterns with different pumpkin faces on them. Dean could also make out a couple more scarecrows and ceramic turkeys sitting on the porch near their rocking chairs.
Dean slowly got out of the car and walked up the steps to his front door. He stood frozen for a second, his hand resting on the doorknob. He was slightly afraid to see how much the inside of the house had been transformed. If the front yard was any indication, Dean was about to walk into an autumn wonderland. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
“Autumn invaded my house,” Dean muttered under his breath. 
There wasn’t an inch of house undecorated. Many of their pictures had been taken down and replaced with seasonal signs, animal cutouts, and fall paintings. There were signs saying, “Welcome to This Home”, “Happy Fall,” “Time for Giving Thanks,” and many more fall greetings and sayings. There were now dozens of owls, foxes, squirrels, and turkeys flying and jumping across their walls. Dean’s favorite seasonal painting hung on the wall: Baby sitting in a pumpkin patch with Dean and Cas making out on her hood. Cas still wouldn’t tell him just how much it had cost.
As Dean walked further into the house, he couldn’t help but let out a low groan. He should have never given Cas free reign in the decorating department. Everywhere Dean looked, he saw leaves, pumpkins, sunflowers, pinecones, and woodland animals. His entire house was now a medley of greens, yellows, reds, and oranges. As he took a deep breath, his nose was assaulted with the strong aroma of pumpkin spice. 
He took a peek into the living room and saw that their normal blue and green pillows had been replaced with yellow and red pillows while an orange throw was laying on the back of the couch. Of course, there was more leaf garland hanging on the fireplace mantle as well as more pumpkins and squashes. A tablecloth with leaves was now covering the dining room table while their pilgrim salt and pepper shakers sat in the middle. A large cornucopia full of maple leaves and vegetables sat behind the shakers. There was even a large scarecrow sitting in the corner.
Dean finally walked into the kitchen, and just like the rest of the house, it had been transformed. All the dish towels had been replaced with autumn themed ones. Cas had brought down their dishware set covered in gold and yellow swirl designs. There were a few foxes, owls, and pumpkins scattered about. A few fake sunflower bouquets were set in even increments across the kitchen counter. In between each bouquet sat orange candles, obviously the source of the pumpkin spice scent.
Cas was standing in front of the oven, pulling out a freshly baked pecan pie. He turned around and set it on a cooling rack before looking up. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw Dean leaning against the counter. “Hello sweetheart, how was your day?”
Dean stared at his husband with as much love as he could muster. Cas was wearing one of his old band tees with a red plaid shirt thrown over it. He also had an apron on that read, “Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice.” His hair was tousled and he had flour on his cheeks from when he made the pie crust.
“Hey baby, my day was good. Nowhere near as busy as yours it seems,” Dean said as he walked towards his husband.
Cas went into Dean’s outstretched arms easily. “I’ve been very busy! What do you think of the decorations?”
Dean pressed a tender kiss to Cas’ lips. “It looks like autumn invaded our house.”
The smile fell from Cas’ face. “If it’s too much, I can take some of it down. I may have gotten carried away.”
Dean reached up to cup Cas’ cheek in his rough palm. “Baby, it’s perfect! It takes a second to get used to, but I think you did a fantastic job! You aren’t allowed to take a single decoration down.”
Cas’ eyes sparkled with Dean’s praise. He nuzzled his nose against his husband’s before sliding his lips against Dean’s. “Thank you, sweetheart. I just pulled a pecan pie out the oven and I have a fresh batch of apple cider in the crockpot. Sam and Eileen are coming over and they are bringing takeout from the Roadhouse. I’ve got a dutch apple pie ready to go in the oven and a pumpkin pie that’s ready for you to take a slice out of.”
“Have I told you recently that you’re the best husband in the world?” Dean asked as he peppered kisses to Cas’ face before finally sealing their lips together.
When they broke apart,” Cas replied cheekily, “You could stand to mention it more.”
“Cas, you’re the best husband in the world,” Dean said softly before pressing another tender kiss to his husband’s lips.
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