#Candy Dish Refill Candle

[spartacandles]

Illuminate Your Space: Rustic White Candle Warmer

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[looksforleaders]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 🌞🩵PartyLite Pumpkin Patch Candle Holder.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - The D.A.M.N Bois + Gavin + Caelum pampering you after a long day.

While I originally wrote this for Diamond!Anon, I want to include everyone who is having a hard time lately.

I can't help much other than offering my headcanons, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

You tend to run yourself to the ground from work and classes. The bois are very well aware of this. Fortunately, they have a plan ready whenever you have a bad day.

It can be anything - an argument with your loved ones, assignments aren't going well or if the world is just against you that day. Gavin and the others have it covered.

The moment you step into the house, everyone is in position.

The first thing you'll receive is a long, warm hug from Huxley. His familiar scent melts all the tension away.

"Welcome home, buddy. Long day? Yeah, Gavin gave us a heads up. Do you think you're up for a hot bath? Damien got it all set up."

And with that, Huxley ushers you to the bathroom where Damien is waiting.

The water is warm and there are scented candles on the counter. Damien throws you a small smile once he sees you. But then he scowls with the tip of his ears red when you stare at the clothes he's wearing. Or the lack thereof.

"Yeah, yeah - you can stop gawking. Gavin insisted that I wear these pants and nothing else. Wanted to give you something to look at while I wash your hair. Now get in here."

You decided to tease Damien by whistling lowly - definitely appreciating the eye candy - before the Fire Elemental gets impatient and helps you strip.

The water is soothing against tight muscles. Damien's soft voice engages you in inane conversation as he rinses your hair. Knowing better than to ask about your day, he instead asks about the fun things you saw. It really helps distract you from the gloom.

Just before Damien lets you settle in, he throws in your favourite bath bomb. Lasko, Gavin and Huxley high-fived one another when they heard you shriek in delight.

Once you're done with your bath, Lasko greets you next with a fluffy towel. It's your favourite colour too. He can't help but blush when you rise out of the bathtub; your body will always leave him in awe.

"W-Wow... you look so, so sexy. Your body is - is just - oh geez, I was going to ramble! And y-you must be cold! Let me wipe you down, p-please?"

He helps dry your body despite your relentless teasing and together, the two of you went to the bedroom. He chooses the comfiest pyjamas for you to wear.

You're seated in front of the vanity mirror. Lasko rubs his hands with a generous amount of hair serum before running his talented fingers through your hair. Then he dries your hair with the hairdryer.

When you and Lasko step out of the bedroom, Gavin is there to gently pull you into his embrace.

"There's my Deviant. I know that you didn't eat much today so I cook all your favourites. Huxley even got your desserts. And if you're up to it, I'll be giving you my own... brand of dessert later."

And with that, Gavin presents you with the dining table that's laden with food and drinks. Huxley, Lasko and Damien are already seated and waiting for you and Gavin to join in.

Dinner was fun. Hearing everyone talk about their latest interests lifted your spirits. You enjoy the atmosphere with a grateful smile as Lasko refills your glass.

The bois make sure that you couldn't take another bite before they start cleaning up. You help out with the dishes despite their frowns. You want to pay them for the wonderful dinner.

Table cleaned and dishes on the rack, you're then ushered to the living room where Huxley had laid out blankets and pillows while you were in the bathroom with Damien.

The lights are dimmed and the curtains are drawn to allow moonlight to filter through the windows. It casts an ethereal ambience around you.

You frown when the bois purposely let your left side empty. Occupying your right, Gavin winks and the sound of a Rift cracks the silence.

You coo as Caelum immediately cuddles you. Being around him never fails to set your heart at ease.

"I miss you so much! So, so much, hehe! Gavin said that we're gonna have a sleepover tonight! He promised lots of snuggles, pillows, blankets - and look, look! We have them! Can we please have the pink blanket?"

Gavin wraps the thick pink blanket around you and Caelum. The two of you continue to cuddle as Caelum tells various fairytales from Aria. Gavin acts as his mouthpiece for Damien, Huxley and Lasko.

From the stories of E��Laetum and Min’Ara, to Delphinus' past and even Gavin shares his fond memories in Aria.

Your day might not go the way you wanted and the world might overwhelm you, but the bois will make sure that your night will end perfectly.

With you knowing how much they love and care for you.

[bopbopstyles]

6. Heartbeat

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.8k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: welcome to the land of harry as a father aka the place of my death, i hope you enjoy your stay!

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N had told Harry she’d pick him up from the airport, but now that she was parking in the arrivals lot, she was wondering if that was the wrong choice. She’d managed to keep her news a secret since she had found out, not wanting to tell Harry over the phone when he was halfway across the world, but it had been horrible. They had never kept secrets from each other, at least, not ones like this, and it was eating away at Y/N from the inside. She didn’t even know how she was going to tell him yet. There were speeches she had practiced, about how it wasn’t necessary for him to be around if he wasn’t interested, that she would do it on her own—but she didn’t know if she wanted to do it on her own? None of them had felt right though, and all of them had ended with her in a pile of tears on her bedroom floor. Her hormones were out of control lately, emotions on a rollercoaster that she was permanently strapped in for.

But she had promised Harry, and despite her fears of telling him her news, she was truly excited to see him. It had been over a month and a half and she was desperate to see his face in person, to touch his body and confirm that yes, he was in fact, real. So she got a move on, not wanting to make Harry wait for her and risk being sighted in the airport.

She bounced up and down on her toes in the arrivals hall, keys jingling in her hand as she waited to see him. He’d probably have sunglasses and a hoodie on, a few suitcases rolling behind him that she’d have to somehow find space for in her trunk. The prospect of him turning the corner had her heart leaping in her chest.

And then there he was, a black hoodie and black sunglasses, two suitcases pulled behind him, curls peeking out from the edge of his hoodie. No one seemed to have caught on as to who he was, so Y/N went for it—she did what she had always wanted people to do when she arrived places. She ran through the arrivals hall, launching herself at Harry.

His eyes met hers when she was a few paces away and his face lit up, lips turning up in a smile, dropping both of his suitcases and opening his arms for her to fly into. Which she did, full throttle, tossing herself into his arms, chuckling at the way he staggered back dramatically. Their faces met immediately, lips on one another for an innocent kiss, desperation too much for the moment.

“Hi,” he said when they pulled away, eyes glinting under the florescents. “What a nice surprise.”

“Thought I’d give it a shot,” she replied, hopping down and taking one of his suitcases from his hand. “Have a good flight?”

Intertwining his fingers with hers, they walked through the arrivals hall. People may have recognized him, but maybe out of kindness they stayed away, perhaps noticing the two young lovers caught up in one another. “Long, but I slept most of the way. Wanted to be all rested up for my girl,” he said with a wink.

Y/N gave him a playful bump with her hip and led him to her car in the arrivals lot, listening to him jabber about the other passengers in first class and how terrible the food was. He was ready for a home cooked meal, he told her, one that he had prepared, and Y/N was fully prepared for that reality, having already gone to the grocery store earlier that day.

They managed to squeeze his suitcases into her trunk and she took the wheel, letting him put on some music as she pulled out of the spot and navigated traffic out of the airport. “Feeling any better?” His question was innocent enough, but for Y/N it set off alarm bells in her head. Had he found out somehow? And then the underlying question that had been keeping her up at night since she had found out: what would he say?

“Bit,” she told him. “What do you want to do now that you’re home?” She asked, quickly turning the topic of conversation back to him, but he didn’t notice. He just yammered on about wanting to go for some hikes, go to their favorite restaurants, spend time with her catching up on the movies he had missed. Jeff was mentioned, the idea of having some friends over, and the prospect of having Jeff anywhere near them right now was an anxiety attack that Y/N had managed to hold off and was perfectly ready not to have anytime soon.

The topic switched to music, which Y/N was perfectly happy with, and she played him the Phoebe Bridgers album that she’d recently discovered. He gave her his analysis, unpacking her favorite songs in the car. Then he shared his new favorite songs, a collection of indie songs she’d never heard and the Top 40s he was loving. They analyzed them together, unpacking the elements she had grown up attuned to—the synths and the perfection of a good bridge.

Before she knew it, she was swinging into the driveway of Harry’s house, punching the garage door opener clipped to her sun visor. As she turned off the car she heard Harry sigh next to her, a wide smile on his face.

“Home sweet home,” he said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Now let’s get these suitcases inside so I can get in the shower and get all these airplane germs off of me.”

Together they brought his cases inside, locking the garage door behind them and turning off the security system. Harry praised her plant maintenance skills as they crested the stairs, pulling the heavy bags into his bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, arms outstretched for her to crawl into, which she did gladly. Upon feeling his arms close around her, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, a weight lifted off of her shoulders from a month and a half of being separated.

“Missed you so much,” he whispered into her hair, holding her close to his body. “So happy to be home with you.”

She lifted her head from his chest and swept her fingers across his jaw. “It wasn’t the same without you,” she told him. “No one being annoying while I try to watch TV.”

“Hey!” He said, tickling at her sides. “I’m perfectly wonderful. I just like lovin’ on you.”

Y/N snuggled into him and tried to let her fears from earlier subside. She’d tell him after they made dinner, let him settle in a bit. “Go shower, you smell like plane,” she said, mumbling against his hoodie. “Want me to start anything downstairs?”

He shook his head, rolling out from under her. “Would you put my wash in though?” His eyes batted at her, as if he was a kid begging for a candy bar.

She rolled her eyes, sliding off the bed. “Yes. All of it?”

He nodded. He’d gone through a lot of clothes, obviously. So she unzipped his suitcases, unpacking his clothes and separating out the colors, making two tall piles of all his things. She made a separate pile for all the bits that needed to be dry cleaned for him to drop off tomorrow while she was at work, and took the darks into the laundry room downstairs, starting a load. Upstairs, she heard the sound of the shower and Harry singing one of his songs like the menace he was. Her eyes fell to a bottle of wine on the counter that she had pulled out for him earlier, and she remembered that she, now, couldn’t drink.

Fuck being pregnant, she thought. All she wanted was a nice big glass of wine.

But she left it be and instead lit one of his favorite candles and turned on their playlist in the speakers, letting the sound fill the house. Before long, Harry was coming down in the stairs in sweats, hair wet and floppy on his head in the way she thought made him look so young and sweet, utterly cuddly and lovable.

“Cravin’ a good bowl of pasta and some veg, how ‘bout you?” He said, making his way into the kitchen. A glass from the cabinet was pulled down, sat next to the bottle of wine she had glanced at earlier, and a question over his shoulder. “Want some?”

“No,” she said calmly. “I’m okay. And yes to dinner, sounds lovely.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her answer, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled some veggies from the fridge and grabbed a cutting board, musing to her about how he wanted to get some new towels while he prepared their dinner. As he cooked, the thought of Harry as a dad crossed her mind. An evening like this, but a baby in the mix. It wouldn’t be so bad, she decided. He’d actually be probably amazing, actually. The only problem was that the perfect moments wouldn’t be all of the moments.

Their conversation flowed easily over dinner, Y/N’s belly full from the food and the laughter from Harry’s terrible jokes. She cleared away the plates and together they washed up, Harry bumping his hip into hers as he dried the dishes. With every moment that passed, the knot in her stomach tightened at the thought of having to tell him, of breaking his fantasy of what the next few years of his life might hold—of his entire life, really.

He refilled his glass of wine and together they made their way to the couch and when they sat, Harry pulled her into his arms, cuddling her close. This was the moment, she realized. It made her stumble, trying to find the right words to tell him this kind of earth-shattering news.

“Harry,” she said, voice cracking with nervousness. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Harry’s body tightened immediately—she could feel it happen against her. “What is it?”

She straightened up, pulling herself from his embrace. She needed space if she was going to do this, the ability to think properly, and being that close to Harry made it impossible. Did she just spit it out? No pretext, just tell him? This was the part she always stumbled on, how to phrase it. But, she thought, there probably wasn’t a handbook on how to tell your boyfriend this kind of news. Especially when it’s not planned.

“Love?” He prompted, worry written all over his face.

“I—fuck,” she said, stomach seizing in worry, “I’m…” She couldn’t get the words out, they were sticking in her throat and she couldn’t find them and she wanted to tell him but she was so fucking scared of what he would say.

Harry reached out, taking her hands in his, the hard calluses of his fingers brushing over her skin. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Whatever it is.”

Her eyes met his, and she just decided to go for it. No dancing around. “I’m pregnant.”

Harry’s eyes widened, whole body stilling. In his grip, her palms began to sweat, the nerves running through her body like a train. They just stared at each other, the news sinking in for Harry probably in the same way as it did for Y/N—the utter panic seizing him. The questions swirling around faster than he could process.

But he didn’t say anything. Just stared at her. And she didn’t know what the fuck that meant. “I know it’s a lot,” she said, the words rushing out, trying to fill the silence. “But we have options.” She used the same words as her doctor, she realized. “I’m still early enough to terminate if we wanted to, or we can do adoption, although I doubt Jeff would go for it, and I’m also happy to do it on my own.” The last one was the one that she’d given the most thought to, and she was actually okay with the idea. Having a child on her own, being a single mom. Wasn’t in the books, but it wasn’t a bad outcome. “I know you’re busy and just starting your solo career so a kid isn’t really great timing, so I can do it and you can like be in their life, I guess? Whatever you want—I’m not, I’m not expecting anything, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” The words came out like a freight train, barreling through the silence between them.

But Harry’s answer blew her straight out of the water. “You—on your own? Fuck no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“You—what?”

“Y/N,” he told her, squeezing her hands. “I’m not letting you raise my kid on your own.”

The words almost made it worse because she realized once he said them, she almost wanted him to say sure, raise it on your own. Because it would be easier. “Harry,” she said softly, slowly, trying to figure out how to say this, “I’m not sure if…I want you to do it with me.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” His words cut like ice, anger clear in his voice, hands wrenching from hers as if she was on fire.

“I don’t know if I want to raise a kid with you,” she said, trying to make it as plain as possible.

The hurt in his eyes burned her to her core. All the joy in his face gone, as if a cold wind had come by and slapped him in the face. And it pained her, but it was also the best thing for her. To be able to do it on her own terms, her own pace, her own place even. “Why?” When he spoke, it was broken, a whispered question.

She bit her lip, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “My dad’s a musician. I know what it’s like to be a musician’s daughter and it fucking sucks most of the time. I saw it destroy my parents’ marriage, saw it destroy the marriages of my dad’s friends. I don’t want to put my kid through that,” she told him, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I want to be a good mom, and I don’t know think that means having you in the picture.”

Harry launched himself off of the couch, standing up with his back to her. All of a sudden, Y/N saw his shoulders shaking, the raspy sound of his cries, and she realized he was crying. She’d made him cry. Made him sob, from the sound of it. And it broke her into a million pieces, the remaining bit of her heart that she hadn’t ripped out the moment she had to tell him that she didn’t want him around for their child.

“Harry—“

“No,” he said, whirling around so she finally saw his face, the tears streaming down his face like waterfalls, red and puffy eyes. “You do not get to sit there and try and comfort me right now. You just told me that you don’t want me to be in my kid’s life!” His voice had reached a scream, the sound echoing in the room.

Y/N tucked her knees up to her chest. She knew it was going to be hard, but she didn’t expect it to be like this. Did she expected him to accept it, maybe? Be relieved? But from looking at Harry now, she didn’t know how she could’ve ever thought that. He looked devastated, utterly destroyed, as if the rug had been ripped out from under him. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice soft. “I just…”

“Y/N,” he said, struggling to stay measured, “obviously this is ultimately your decision. But I am the father, and more than anything, I’m your boyfriend. This isn’t like some one night stand—I’m—“ His voice broke, tumbling over the words. “I’m in love with you. And you’re having our baby. And I feel like you’ve completely shut me out from making any kind of decision. Like you just decided without even considering what I might want.”

“I prioritized myself,” she said, voice stern. “Because I have to carry this child for nine months. I will be there, every single day, for the rest of my life, raising this child. It will be me, Harry, not you, who will be the parent at every school function, helping with homework and dealing with nightmares. Because you will be gone half of the time. So I’m sorry if I had to put myself first, if that feels like I shut you out. But trust me when I say that I did consider what you might want.”

“But you decided that what you want is more important.”

“Not what I want,” Y/N corrected, “but what I need. What my child needs.”

“Our,” he said, cutting her off. “Our child. ’S not your child, it’s our child.”

His words stopped her dead in her tracks. He was so insistent, staring her straight in the eyes, not moving from where he stood. “Yes. Our child.”

With an exhale, Harry ran a hand through his hair, his rings glinting under the soft lights of the living room. “I understand your fears. I want you to know that. I’m fucking terrified too,” he said, a soft chuckle falling through the tension, “but I don’t plan on fucking off around the world and leaving you here to care for our child. Y/N, I want a family more than anything in the whole entire world. More than my career, more than everything.”

They’d never really had this conversation, she thought when he said those words. She knew he wanted kids, but she never knew where they ranked in his ambitions. How high up they actually were. She had assumed, she realized, that he would act the way so many others did. But Harry, he was different.

“I want to raise our child with you,” he continued, voice straining as the tears continued to fall down his cheeks. He brushed at them with the back of his hand and Y/N wished she could dry them for him. “I want to do this with you. If you don’t want me to, then I’ll respect that. But I’m not going to let you—our child—go without a fight.”

Y/N exhaled, his words hitting her like a ton of bricks. He wanted their child. He wanted to be a father, to raise a kid with her. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, no pause, intention clear in his tone. “Never been so sure in my life.”

“This isn’t something you get to go back on,” she reminded him. “Like, this is the rest of your life you’re committing to.”

“I know.” His voice was devoid of any doubt, just sureness, and it managed to chip away at the hard edge she’d been latching onto in an attempt to make the hardest choice of her life—pushing him away.

She looked down at her hands, the chipped blue nail polish there from Friday night when she’d been having a whole lot of deep thoughts about this conversation and the future. “Harry,” she said softly, “I’m terrified of this.”

A hand drifted through her hair and she looked up, seeing Harry crouching in front of her, eyes level with hers. “I know, baby.”

“I don’t know how to be a mom. I’m not ready.”

“Me either,” he said with a sad smile. “But we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Slowly, she nodded and Harry exhaled, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, tears ripping through her again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms without a second thought and Y/N folded into him, shame and regret leaking from her like a faucet. “I forgive you,” he said with a kiss to her temple. “Raising a kid with me is definitely not going to be the easiest thing in the world. That’s not your fault, and you wanting to do what’s best for our kid, even if it means me not being around? That shows how fierce of a mom you’re going to be.”

His words stirred something in her. Mom. She was going to be a mother. “You think so?”

“Going to be fucking incredible, baby.”

“You’re going to be a dad,” she whispered, looking into his green eyes, which were still red and puffy, but the sad look was replaced with one full of excitement, joy. “Gonna be a good one, too, I think.”

He smiled at her, cupping her cheek in his hand. “With you at my side, don’t know how I couldn’t be.”

Harry sat down in the pink plastic chairs, rubbing his hands on the his pants, and Y/N dropped into the seat next to him. Seeing Harry Styles in an OB/GYN clinic was quite possibly one of Y/N’s favorite things she’s ever seen. He was peeking at the women’s magazines, reading the articles about pregnancy intensely in a way that made her restrain from giggling. He even made conversation with the receptionist, asking her about her day and making sure that the appointment would be completely safe for the baby, which of course, it was.

When she made the appointment she asked to be scheduled at a time when no one else would be in the waiting room, and they managed to succeed, the seats completely empty when Harry and her walked in the door. They hadn’t decided how—or when—they wanted to announce her pregnancy or if they even wanted to. They were both deeply private people and the idea of blasting their personal lives on social media felt horrible, so they wanted to avoid it for as long as possible.

They also hadn’t told Jeff and the rest of Harry’s team yet. Harry told her he wanted to wait until he heard his child’s heartbeat, felt the reality of having a child, before he launched into that conversation with his management because it wouldn’t be an easy one. So the last thing they wanted was Jeff finding out Y/N was pregnant through paparazzi photos of them going into an OB/GYN clinic.

“Have you ever been to an OB/GYN clinic?” She asked him, propping her elbow up on the arm rest between them.

He snorted. “Why would I?”

“Dunno,” she said with a shrug. “Thought that might explain why you seem not to be overwhelmed with the amount of modeled vaginas and uteri around you.”

“That what those are?” He asked in mock surprise, pointing at the one next to them. “Well fuck. Just thought it was art.”

Y/N had to hide her face in his shoulder to keep from laughing too loudly, and when she poked her head up, Harry was looking down at her with a grin. “Glad you’re here,” she said, chin resting on his shoulder.

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Me too, baby.”

“Gonna hear your other baby,” she said with a chuckle and Harry just looked like he had won the lottery. It was this reason that Y/N was becoming more and more okay with the idea of raising a child with Harry with every passing day. He was just so happy all the time—there was a new bounce in his step and he was utterly obsessed with picking out baby clothes. The morning after she had told him, she went downstairs to find him sat at the dining table, browsing some websites for baby clothes, selecting an entire wardrobe for his child to outfit them for their entire first year. Y/N had to physically hide his wallet and remove his computer from his vicinity to get him to stop.

Harry pulled her into his body and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You know I’ve always dreamed of doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Hearing my baby’s heartbeat.”

She kissed the exposed skin at the top his shirt at the base of his neck, hoping it would encapsulate the feeling of love radiating through her body because she truly didn’t have the words.

“Y/N?” She looked up and her OB/GYN, Dr. Crawford, stood in the doorway. Harry stood up immediately, the excitement flowing through him obvious to anyone with eyes. He held her hand as they walked down the fall to the exam room, not minding that her hand got a sweaty from the nerves. There was something mildly uncomfortable about Harry being with her at an office where she usually went to get her birth control and yearly exams, but Harry didn’t seem to mind at all. He somehow fit in, made her feel at ease, lessened the nerves with his silly jokes and tickles to her sides when she looked too intense.

“So,” Dr. Crawford said once they were settled in the exam room, Y/N on the table and Harry sat in the chair closest to her, knee bouncing up and down so fast Y/N had to lean over and stop him. “I got your results from Dr. Terrell—seems like you’re eight weeks along, now more like nine. I estimate conception was in mid September by that approximation.”

Y/N looked over at Harry, his eyes crinkling up at the edges, his thoughts probably the same as hers. “When you were home,” she said, the memory of their reunion strong. Of course it was then—she was so caught up in Harry being home she wouldn’t been surprised if she had missed a day of her pill altogether.

“And are you the father?” Dr. Crawford asked, pointing her ballpoint at Harry, a questionnaire attached to her clipboard.

“Yes,” they both said at the same time, Dr. Crawford giving them a warm smile.

He reached out a hand to Dr. Crawford as if she probably didn’t know who he was. Although maybe it was better if her OB/GYN didn’t know that the father was an international popstar? Y/N couldn’t really decide. “Harry,” he introduced himself, leaving his last name conveniently out.

“Pleasure,” she answered, shaking his hand. “Now, I’m assuming we want to meet your baby today?” Harry reached his hand over to hers, fingers interlinking as they both nodded. “Wonderful. Y/N can you lift your shirt for me?”

She rucked up the edge of her oversized t-shirt and Dr. Crawford brought over the same device Y/N had seen on TV—a transducer, her OB/GYN informed her as she lathered a cold gel over a section of her stomach. “Okay,” she said, pressing some buttons on the machine, “give me a second to find your little one.”

Harry’s eyes drifted to the screen, squeezing her hand as they both listened closely to try and hear their child’s heartbeat. The screen was grainy, lines and pockets that Y/N tried her best not to trick into believing was her child. Dr. Crawford moved the transducer around on Y/N’s lower abdomen, searching for the right spot. Panic seized Y/N the longer they waited for the heartbeat, questions swirling in her head—was there something wrong? Was the test wrong—was she not pregnant after all? Or worse—was there something wrong with their child?

And then, a solid thudding sound echoed in Y/N’s ears, and her vision immediately swam as tears welled in her eyes. It was her child, her baby, the little being she was carrying inside of her. She looked over to Harry, and he was full-on crying, wiping his nose on the hem of his sweatshirt as he stared at Y/N in awe.

Dr. Crawford suddenly sighed, and Y/N tore her eyes away from Harry to look up at the screen, where she could see, faintly, the outline of a fetus. “That’s our little Peanut,” Harry whispered to her, bowing his head so it rested on her shoulder, them both looking at the screen. “They’re real,” he said, his tears wetting her shirt and Y/N was crying as hard as him now, the sight of her child up on the screen jerking at every fiber of her body.

Peanut, Y/N thought to herself. Harry already had a nickname for their child.

“That’s them?” She asked Dr. Crawford, barely able to see the screen because of the tears.

“Yes,” her doctor replied, “that’s your baby."

Y/N turned and tugged at Harry’s face, suddenly feeling the overwhelming desire to kiss him, needing him to anchor her to the world and remind her that yes, this was real. His hands cupped her chin delicately, lips meeting. Their foreheads rested against one another’s as their tears flowed, the fact that they were actually going to be parents settling in.

“Can I—can I take a video?” Harry asked Dr. Crawford, looking back up at the doctor, pulling Y/N from their personal moment. “Want to be able to let my mum hear the heartbeat.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Let me turn up the sound.” She pressed a few buttons, and suddenly the thud of her child’s heartbeat was all Y/N could hear. She closed her eyes to the sound, letting it take root in her brain. Her hands drifted to where the transducer rested on her belly, careful not to get too close as she cupped her stomach. Perhaps it had been the anxiety over telling Harry, but she hadn’t really touched where her child was growing yet. The concept hadn’t really settled in—in fact, she had tried to avoid thinking about it because it stressed her out so much.

But now it was a reflex.

“I’ll take some pictures for you to keep,” Dr. Crawford said, pressing a button and shifting the transducer slightly. “I’ll go grab these for you,” she told them, “and then we can talk about what the next few weeks will hold.” She pulled the transducer off of Y/N’s belly, wiping off the gel, and then stepped out of the room giving the two emotional parents a moment alone.

“How is it,” Harry said, voice raw with emotion, “that I’m already so in love with them?”

Y/N pushed a strand of his hair off his forehead and wiped a tear from his cheek. “I know what you mean,” she whispered. “It’s so visceral. I can’t even explain it.”

He bent his head to hers, sighing as he shut his eyes against her skin. “I love you. I know this wasn’t the plan, but I’m so happy I don’t even know what to say.”

Her fingers swept at his neck, massaging his skin, knowing he loved the feeling. “I love you too, H.”

That night, they laid in Y/N’s bed, Harry having decided to stay for a few days while they processed everything, and stared at the photos Dr. Crawford had given them in the office. Y/N was curled up on Harry’s chest and he thought that he had truly never experienced a more perfect moment. The mother of his child curled into him, head on his chest, while they looked at the photo of their unborn child.

“Due in June,” Harry whispered. “They’re going to be a summer baby.”

“Thank god,” Y/N mumbled into his skin. “Between me in January and you in February, I truly don’t think I could handle one more Winter birthday.”

Harry laughed, her head bouncing on his vibrating chest. She managed to make every moment a little bit brighter, and feature he loved so deeply about her. Neither of them could be serious for too long, and it kept them laughing all the time, much to the annoyance of their friends when no one got their inside jokes.

He gazed at the photo of his child, his brain barely able to wrap around the fact. He had known for days, and yet he still woke up in the morning and forgot. When he saw Y/N he always remembered, but there was this second in the morning where he forgot and he hated it. He was going to be a father and he wanted to soak up every single second, revel in the reality that he was starting a family. And maybe it didn’t happen the way he would’ve planned it, but that didn’t make it any less special or exciting. Plus, his child with Y/N was going to have insanely good music taste.

The thought that he couldn’t get out of the back of his head was the fact that he was supposed to be going on tour in March. A world tour longer than the one he had just finished, from March to July with basically no breaks. As of right now, he wouldn’t even be in town for the birth of his child. And he wasn’t going to have ten days off to visit Y/N or see his mum. When he looked at his schedule earlier in the day, he had only found one substantial break—ten days in May, nestled between Japan and Argentina. That wasn’t how he wanted to do fatherhood—he wanted to see Y/N for every single second of the day, to see her belly grow and her body change, to talk to his child every night before bed as he had done last night, Y/N giggling above him. He wanted to be present, mentally and physically. He wanted to be there for the birth, at the utter bare minimum, and with the schedule he was going to miss that too.

He also knew that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to put on the kinds of shows he wanted, do the press he usually did, with a pregnant Y/N back in LA waiting for him. It wasn’t the world tour he wanted to put on, the kind of show he wanted to bring to the fans. Harry was a go big or go home kind of guy, and half-assed shows wasn’t going to cut it.

But he had no idea how to balance the two. How did he be the kind of father he wanted to be, but also the kind of musician he loved being? As much as he wanted to ask Y/N, he was scared she’d be frustrated, pointing out that this was exactly what she was afraid of. He needed a game plan before he could really talk to her about it, but that involved talking to Jeff, and he wanted to do that with Y/N there. He wanted Jeff to know that they were a family, and decisions that affected Harry were decisions that affected Y/N and their child.

So who did he talk to, then?

He didn’t have all that many friends with kids. And those he did have, most of them weren’t musicians—they were like James, people who worked in the same city as their family but traveled for work some. Not people whose entire careers were based around being gone for extended periods of time.

But, he realized, he had Adam. Adam, with multiple kids. Adam, a musician who toured—and had toured with Harry. He knew how Harry was, what kind of shows he needed to deliver, the demands of his particular brand of fame.

He glanced down at Y/N and saw her eyes were shut, arm still resting over his abdomen. Soft sighs fluttered from her lips, a sweet smile on her face—even in sleep, she was beautiful. Even more so, somehow. Harry leaned over and flicked off his light, resting the photo of his little Peanut on the bedside table so when they woke up in the morning, it was the first thing they’d see.

In the morning, Harry made Y/N pancakes and gave her a kiss goodbye before grabbing his phone, desperate to talk to someone about the thoughts raging through his head. He could barely sleep last night, the questions and scenarios like a bad movie rolling through his brain—what if he missed the birth? What if he missed the first kick? What if Y/N hated him for it, and made good on her original request—for him to not be in the picture? What if he missed out on the opportunity to be a dad?

That thought had him scrambling for Adam’s contact in his phone.

“Hello?”

Adam’s voice rang through the line and it eased an anxiety Harry had had weighing on him for days. “Hey man,” he said, settling into Y/N’s couch where was set up. “Need your advice on something.”

He heard a rustling, probably Adam sitting down and settling in for what he knew would be a long conversation, as were anytime Harry asked Adam for advice. “What’s up?”

“I need you to keep this a secret. Like, tell no one about this—literally not a soul knows except for you, me, and Y/N. Not even Jeff or my mum.”

Adam exhaled, probably understanding the gravity of it if Harry hadn’t even told Anne. He told Anne everything, which he had been told on multiple occasions was not the type of behavior common in 20-somethings men, but it was how he was. Maybe it was a product of leaving home early, or of the fact that his mum was truly his best friend. “You’re kind of freaking me out, mate.”

“You swear?”

“Of course—swear I won’t tell anyone. Not even Emi.”

Harry breathed in, then out, and then he just spilled it: “Y/N’s pregnant.”

Adam was quiet for a beat, and then, “Wow. How do you feel?”

That was the one question Harry could answer confidently. “I’m so happy that Y/N keeps telling me too stop smiling or she’s going to get me checked out,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you feel like that with Silver and Spike?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, “like my heart was going to pop out of my chest.”

That was exactly the feeling Harry had right now and hadn’t seemed to dissipate. “So, I’m happy right? So happy. But I’m also losing it—I told you about Y/N’s rule, the stuff we’ve worked through, all that. And now we’re going to have a baby. When she told me, she said she didn’t know if she wanted to raise a kid with me—because of my job.”

“Fuck.”

“I talked her back from there,” Harry explained, standing and beginning to pace, bare feet hitting her wood floors. “I told her how I wanted to be present, how it was more important than my career. But, now I actually have to make the decision, because we’ve got a tour scheduled until July and the baby’s due in June. And,” he added, “if I had it my way I would be here the whole time. I want to be here for all of her pregnancy—it’s my first kid, Adam.” His voice broke as he said those words, the reality of what this could become hitting him. “I need to experience that. And I have no idea what to do.”

Adam didn’t say anything, but Harry knew he was still there because he heard Silver talking in the background, Emi’s voice telling her to give Papa some space, which pulled on Harry’s heart. He wanted that so badly—to have someone call him Papa and crawl up his legs, demanding attention. “You haven’t talked to Jeff, yet, right?” Adam finally asked.

“No.”

“Good. Wait until you’ve got a plan of attack—you want to be really clear about what you want to do.”

Harry nodded, leaning onto Y/N kitchen island, eyes studying a crack in the countertop he hadn’t noticed before. “That was my thought too. ’S why I called you.”

“Well,” Adam said, “I’m not going to pretend like my situation was anything like yours. Completely different can of worms. But, I’ll say this—I understanding your desire to be there. I missed bits of it with Silver but got it all with Spike and it made me wish I had been there for all of it.”

“I don’t want cancel tour though,” Harry said, words heavy in his heart. The idea had him heartbroken—all of the disappointed fans? He couldn’t do that.

“No you don’t,” Adam agreed. “But your baby is due in June, so you’re going to have to cancel the US leg at the very least. You’re going to have to tour, at least for part of it. You’ll miss stuff, but that’s the way it works. There’s no way you could be around Y/N all day anyways—she’s got work, you’ve got work, you would miss things either way. But it’s different to be completely gone and it’s going to be brutal for both of you.”

“You’re really not helping,” Harry muttered, the panic resurfacing in his chest.

“Sorry,” Adam said, “I’m trying. Would Y/N go on tour with you?”

The thought flickered through Harry’s brain. It was an idea. One Y/N would probably put up a fuss about, not wanting to leave her office and friends. “Maybe for bits of it. But she works full-time and bloody loves her job. It would be hard for her to do fully remote, I think, especially halfway around the world.” “So that’s an option. As for cancelling the US dates, you can just reschedule them shows for later—maybe beginning of 2019.”

“I’m supposed to be recording then.” He’s got another album to write, after all. An album that had a strong feeling was going to be very different than anything he had done before.

“I—fuck. I mean, maybe you’ll just have to fully cut them, just do refunds.”

Harry sighed. It was, perhaps, the best he could do. Not nearly enough, but it might be all he could do. “Fans will never forgive me.”

“You’ll have to explain,” Adam reminded him. “If they know why, I don’t think they’ll hate you too much.”

He hoped not. He loved his fans and in a normal situation he would never cancel shows like this. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. “I’ll have to talk to Jeff. He’s going to kill me.”

“Hey,” Adam said, voice softening, “he won’t. He’s going to be frustrated, sure, but not with you—more with all the people he’s going to have to call. But that’s his job, not yours. Your job is to be a great boyfriend, a great musician, and now, a great dad. Which you’re going to be. Promise.”

“Thank you,” he said, words catching in his throat. He didn’t even know he needed to hear someone other than Y/N say it until Adam did. “Needed to hear that.”

“Happy to remind you anytime,” Adam told him and Harry thought about how lucky he was to have friends like him around. “Now, I’ve got to go take Silver to a sleepover—call me if you want to talk more, though, okay? I’m around.”

“Thanks mate,” he said. “Say hi to everyone for me.”

“Harry says hi!” Adam called to his family, and Harry smiled at the yells of “HI HARRY!” that echoed through the phone. “They say hi. Talk later, man.”

“Bye,” Harry said, ending the call. He stood up straight, his hip resting against the island, and considered what Adam had said. She’d take some convincing, but Y/N might agree to go on tour with him. He didn’t know how good it would be for her to travel that much—he needed to get that checked out—but it was worth a shot. As far as canceling the shows, it would be painful, but he firmly believed it would be worth it.

He hadn’t lied to Y/N when he told her that her, their child, their life, was more important than anything. It was, which was why experiencing pregnancy with her was at the top of his list. He would do anything to be with her for it, whether he had to move tour dates or mountains—anything for her.

Motown was playing when she opened the door, the smell of something spicy hitting her nostrils immediately. Harry stood in her kitchen in her favorite apron, a towel over one shoulder and a glass of wine on the counter in front of him. He was cooking for her, dinner ready and waiting when she arrived home from work. The thought hit her like a ton of bricks: this was the life she had always dreamed of with her significant other. The simple moments of them making her dinner, of them taking care of her when she needed it most. And after today, she really needed it.

“Hi, baby,” Harry said, turning down the music so she could hear him. He wandered over to her as she slipped off her coat and shoes, arms winding around her. “How was your day?”

“Shitty,” she replied, pulling away from him. “Need to go change out of my clothes.”

“Sounds good. Dinner will be ready in ten.”

Y/N pulled off her clothes and replaced them with a soft sweatshirt and leggings, before making her way into the bathroom to take off her makeup. Eyes exhausted from staring at her computer all day, the words on the screen running together by the time she left her desk, she took out her contacts and slipped on her glasses instead, a sigh of relief leaving her body. Now she felt like she was home.

In the kitchen, Harry was plating up their food, a glass of water in a wine glass waiting for her that made her miss alcohol so much—not even in a way where she needed it, the concept of a nice glass of red wine just sounded utterly delectable.

“Made you salmon and a bunch of veg,” Harry said, pressing a kiss to her temple as she passed him in the narrow kitchen. “Was readin’ that book you have ‘bout pregnancy and saw how important it is to eat good.”

The thought of Harry sitting on her couch reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting brought a smile to her cheeks that she desperately needed after the day she had had. He had become a bit obsessed with fatherhood in the few days since she had told him the news, and each time he mentioned the new research he had been doing, it reminded her that the fears revolving through her brain all day might very well be misplaced. Maybe Harry would be able to be the kind of present father that she needed and Harry wanted to be.

“So,” he said, settling into the seat caddy-corner to her, their plates in front of them. “Tell me about this shitty day of yours.”

She took a bite of the salmon, giving him a thumbs up when he asked how it was. “Started with me having to run out of a meeting to vomit,” she began.

“Oh no,” he said, knowing full well how much she hated vomiting and how tired of it she was.

“Yep.” She cut into one of the roasted sweet potatoes, the question of how Harry learned to cook so well crossing her mind as she took a bite. “And then I got the call that the big deal I’ve been working on fell through—the company decided to go with another agency. I haven’t even presented our final plan yet—didn’t even have a chance to prove myself. I don’t even know how they made the choice, but to have done it without even seeing the final product sucks.”

Harry reached over and slipped his hand into her, giving it a tight squeeze. “’S not a reflection of your work, love.”

“I know,” she reassured him, “but it’s hard not to think it anyways.” She took a sip of her ice water, eyes falling to his red wine with longing. “But then one of the interns mentioned some trend on Instagram that I knew nothing about and it made me feel old. And then Jamie asked me if I wanted to get drinks after work and I had to make up an excuse and he looked so sad. So it was a shit day.”

The look on her face was so heartbreaking that Harry just wanted to squeeze it right out of her. So he took his hand and pressed his thumbs into her cheeks, squeezing them together, trying to make her giggle like she usually did when he did this. “You’re really, really fuckin’ cute, Y/N,” he told her and to his delight a blush fell over the tops of her cheeks. “And you’re also wicked brilliant. Anyone who thinks otherwise, or makes you feel like you’re not, is an idiot. And you are most definitely not old.” He turned his chair and pulled himself towards her so his knees were touching the side of her chair, allowing him to press a delicate kiss to the fabric covering her shoulder. “You hear me?”

She nodded, picking up her fork to resume her dinner. “Thank you, H.”

“For what?” He pushed a strand of her hair behind her shoulder so it didn’t get in her food when she took a bite.

“Picking me up,” she said, eyes meeting his. “You’re good at it.”

He pecks the tip of her nose, smiling when her face scrunches up at the action. “Easy to do when you’re so bloody wonderful.” With that, he scoots back to his place at the table, letting her eat in peace. He filled the conversation with jabber about his work for the day, his calls with his team and the interview he did for a radio station. When Y/N was like this, she wasn’t all that talkative, preferring instead to mull about in her head and process all of her thoughts, but when she was ready to chat she came out in full force.

That happened after dinner, when they were tucked up in her bed, both reading. Harry was working his way through a non-fiction book about World War II, doing Dunkirk having piqued an interest for him, and Y/N was reading a copy of the New Yorker that her dad had given her when she saw him last. Suddenly, she nudged his neck with her head, demanding his attention.

When he looked down at her, she was all doe-eyed and warm, her mind having finally gotten itself out of the spiral it was in. “Sorry I was in a mood,” she said. “Hormones are fucking with me.”

“S’okay, button,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. “Sorry I got you pregnant and got you hormonal in the first place.” He meant it as a joke, but Y/N stilled against him and he immediately knew that wasn’t how she heard it. “Joking, Y/N,” he told her. “I love that we’re havin’ a baby.”

She set down her magazine and propped herself up on her elbows, Harry dropping his book too so he could focus fully on her. “Are you sure, H? If you’re being serious, I understand, you know. You don’t have to pretend. I don’t want you to pretend just for my sake.”

Harry exhaled. “How many times do I have to tell you, baby? I’m so excited to be havin’ a family with you I can’t even contain it. Nearly blurted it out to Jeff today in excitement before I remembered what we agreed on.”

“You might need to tell me a couple more times,” she told him honestly. “For some reason, my brain is having trouble wrapping its head around the idea that you want to be doing this.”

“C’mere,” he said, opening his arms so she could fold into his body. “I’ll remind you whenever you need, okay? But please, Y/N, please believe the best in me. I love you, but sometimes the doubt you have in me breaks me.”

Her fingers crawl up his biceps, fingers trailing around the outline of the heart tattooed there. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her chin into his chest, a soft smile bringing him to his knees for her. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and I’d like you to keep an open mind.”

Her fingers stopped tracing his tattoos and her eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?”

“I talked to Adam today,” he began. “I told him we were havin’ a baby.” Before she could berate him for breaking their promise, he forged on, because that wasn’t the part he wanted to talk to her about—he already knew she was frustrated with him for it. “I needed his advice on how to approach the 2018 tour. Whenever we talk to Jeff I need to have a plan before I walk into that room, and Adam’s my only friend who has kids and knows intimately how I tour.”

She considers his words before opening her mouth. “Was it helpful?”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “He had a couple suggestions, some which aren’t possible, some which are. The main one was that you join me for part of the tour. I know that you have work and you probably can’t do it, but I already have to cancel the entire US leg because it’s in June when little Peanut is due, so I probably can’t ask for other breaks. And I have no fucking idea what to do, Y/N.”

Y/N scrambled up, swinging a leg over Harry’s waist to brush the tears that were spilling from his eyes. His heart was beating so fast, the fear of what she would say eating him alive. “Hey, hey, I’m here, okay? We’re going to figure this out.” She was so calm, collected, the opposite from what he expected. “Can you breathe for me? I want to have this conversation, but I can’t do it if you’re crying, H.”

Harry gulped, trying to get his breathing under control. “I—yes. Okay.” He listened to her breathing, the sound of her heartbeat, letting it anchor him.

“Better?” He nodded, and she smoothed his hair back before speaking again. “So. Me going on tour with you?”

“Yeah. What do you think?”

She sighed, her fingers fiddling at the collar of his shirt. Without even thinking about it, Harry found himself curving his hands around her stomach, right where his baby was, the action having become an impulse in the recent days. “H, I can’t travel when I’m over 34 weeks pregnant.”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, the frustration evident in the way he hung his head. “Fuck.”

“Maybe…Maybe I could take off a few weeks at the beginning? I’ve got the vacation time saved up.”

His head perked up at her proposal, eyes wide. “Really?”

She nodded, hand coming up to grip the back of his neck, her fingers massaging into the base of his skull. “I want to make this work and if that means taking some time off so we can be together, that’s what it means.”

The prospect of her on tour with him, her and their baby on tour with him made his heart flutter, the images of her, wildly pregnant, hanging out in his dressing room before shows, watching from the wings while he performed. Her hands carding through his hair while he took naps backstage, them shagging in his hotel rooms, cuddling on airplanes and tour buses. “I like that idea,” he said, bending down so he could press a soft kiss to her abdomen. “Quite a lot.”

“I kind of like it too,” She murmured, giggling when Harry left a lingering smooch to her belly button. “I’m sorry, baby about having to cancel tour. Know that isn’t what you want to do.”

“Rather be here than anywhere else,” he said, nudging at her cheek with his nose. “Y/N, I want you to know, I would never have picked to tour right now if I would have known.”

“I know,” she murmured against his skin. They were cuddled up in each other, her arms around his neck, his face buried in her shoulder. Harry didn’t think the desire to be close to her like this would ever leave him. He just desperately loved being as close as possible, holding her, petting her skin, feeling her breath on his skin. “I know I put a lot of pressure on you and that’s not necessarily fair of me, but—“ “Hush,” Harry said, lifting his head so he could look at her. “You’re right to, okay? I want to be the best dad I can be, but you know how easily I get caught up in my work. Don’t want to do that. Just as I need to remind you how much I care, sometimes you may have to remind me that you’re my world. Can you keep doing that?”

She nodded, a soft press of her lips to his eyebrow that had him gripping her hips, the tenderness like fireworks in his brain. “What do you think Anne is going to say when we tell her?”

Harry chuckled, the panic in her voice evident. “She’s going to be so happy I bet she’ll cry. Been wantin’ a grandchild for ages now. What about your mom?”

“She’s going to have a conniption fit,” Y/N said with a laugh of her own. “But then she’s going to cry too.”

“No wonder we’re such softies,” Harry said, tickling at Y/N’s sides, the sound of her giggles in his ears making him smile.

She leaned back, squirming away from his hands. “Speak for yourself. I’m serious, not a softie.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry lifted his hands, smushing her cheeks together and peppering kisses all over her. “Say that again, baby. Dare you.”

“Fine!” She pulled his lips into a kiss that left him breathless, his desire for her never waving. “Love you, my big softie.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go to bed, gotta make sure Peanut gets his beauty sleep.”

Y/N rolled off of him and let him pull the duvet cover over their bodies, cuddling up next to him. “What about me?”

“Don’t need it,” he said with a swift kiss to her forehead. “Beautiful no matter how much sleep you get.”

He feel asleep with Y/N’s head on his chest, arm slung over his torso, and Harry wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. The girl he loved, a baby on the way, and a career he adored. He ran his fingers up her spine, watching the smile flutter onto her lips in her sleep, and let his eyes wander to her belly. You couldn’t tell that she was pregnant yet, but to Harry, knowing that she was carrying their child inside of her, she had never been more beautiful to him.

TAGLIST:  

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 22ND @ NOON CST

[hopewritcs]

another day, another party.

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

word count: 2.5k

request: “13, 65, 66 w billy? you’re the best!” ( “I dare you to kiss me.” / “We could always crash the party.” /  “I’m not sure you understand how much I care about you.” )

summary: billy and y/n have formed an unusual friendship.  both of them are popular, both of them like to go to parties, and they always wind up crashing at y/n’s house after.  but they’re most definitely just friends.  

notes: post s2 - pre s3

stranger things tag list: @thekidsofneibolt, @madhatterweasley, @shaykeijser, @rainy-bookish-days (if you wanna be added to any tag list, let me know!!)

Billy Hargrove wasn’t someone that Y/N’d expected to be friends with.  But, through mutual friends and several parties that year, they’d wound up thrown together on multiple occasions.  

Now, when they walked in the halls at the school Y/N and Billy were always together.  Naturally, everyone assumed that they were together.  It was something they would laugh about when they skipped class and sat in the back of the school under the bleachers.  

Which is exactly where they were now, a lit cigarette dangling from Billy’s lips as Y/N fumbled with the can of coke she’d brought with her from home.  She wasn’t much of a smoker like Billy, but she still hung around with him when he did.  They both needed to skip class every now and again.  

“So Carol told me about this party she and Tommy are throwing this weekend.”  Y/N huffed, taking a sip from her soda before tilting her head to look at Billy.  “Said it was only going to be a small group, which you know means she’s inviting half the school.  Everyone will be there, I’m sure, except people she and Tommy consider freaks.”  

It almost hurt her to say that.  She never bought into the bogus social hierarchy, calling people names and making fun of anyone for something they’ve done or not done.  It simply wasn’t who Y/N was.  It got her a lot of shit from her supposed friends too.  She’d been caught defending everyone from Jonathan Byers to Steve Harrington ever since she could remember.  While her friends teased her for it, told her to stick with them, she’d just rolled her eyes.  

“We could always crash the party.”  Billy said, exhaling as he pulled the cigarette from his lips and offered it to Y/N.  She declined with a wave of her hand, leaning back and letting the sun wash over her as best it could from under the bleachers.  

“We’re invited to the party, dumbass.”  Which was a problem for her.  Of course, she loved a good party.  Honestly, who didn’t?  What else was there to do in a small town except for get wasted on the weekends and hope to god that the police chief doesn’t show up and take you home kicking and screaming?  But as graduation got closer, it was one of the farthest things from her mind.  

“Then let’s have our own party.  The two of us.  We’ll pick up booze from town and go to yours.”  Billy suggested, sitting up to look at her better.  Y/N, in his time in Hawkins, had become the one single person he gave a shit about in the small town.  She didn’t judge him--didn’t judge anyone for that matter--and carried herself both with an air of how can i help and fuck off, a tangled mix that Billy was more than intrigued by.  Y/N had quickly become the person he relied on, his best friend.  “Your parents are out of town, right?”  

“Yeah, they’ve got my older sister’s parents weekend.  Or an award thing?  Who fucking knows.  They’re visiting her and leaving me here.”  Y/N didn’t sound bitter about it, because she wasn’t.  That was just the facts of the situation.  Would she have wanted to go to whatever it was?  Probably not.  But she would have liked the opportunity--she would have liked it if her parents had asked first.  

“So then it’s settled.  Friday after school we’ll rent a video and have our own party.  Who gives a shit about all of them anyway?”  Billy gestured toward the school wildly with one hand as he snubbed out his cigarette and jumped to a standing position, pulling Y/N off the ground too.  Her soda can spilled on the grass as he grabbed her from her seat.  The bell tolled in the distance.  “We can’t be late.”  Billy said, pointing to the school with a smirk on his lips.  

“Yes, because we can actually be late to leave school for the day, Hargrove.”  

“Just move it, Y/L/N.” 

Friday came by quickly, and the hunt for videos and snacks was upon Billy and Y/N.  Billy drove to the video rental, blasting the cassette in his car stereo and driving fast.  He was laughing.  He knew how much it drove Y/N insane when he drove like this.  

Her hands were grabbing on to her seat as she screamed at him to slow down.  This was just how it was when they drove.  Billy drove like he thought--wild, crazy, little care.  Y/N hated every minute of it, her stomach always flew into her throat when she was in his car.  But he didn’t exactly like being driven around, so they always wound up carpooling in his car ( which she’d mentioned that she could drive once and only got a look across Billy’s face to tell her never to mention it again ).  

“Shit Billy, you’re insane.  Where the hell did you learn to drive?”  It wasn’t so much an actual question, but the same thing she always cried out in the car with him.  “You’re gonna get us killed!”  The panic clear on her features, but she also knew that Billy was in fact in control of the car and nothing would happen.  She knew he liked getting a rise out of her, but she couldn’t help her gut reaction of pure terror.  

When they got out of the car, with her backpack slung over one shoulder she looked toward Billy with a glint in her eyes, “If you drive like that all the way to my house I will kick you out of your own damned car Hargrove!” 

Y/N meant it to be threatening, but Billy was smirking at her.  “Think you can handle that on your own?”  

“Don’t test me.  We’re this close to finding out.”  

He balked out laughter at that comment, and Y/N rolled her eyes--she was still holding her thumb and forefinger just far enough apart that it created any space, and the pair made their way into Family Video.  

Y/N brushed past Billy and immediately began searching for snacks.  Regretfully, since she’d picked the film last time they’d hung out, it was Billy’s turn and she was unsure what direction he would go in.  She’d made him watch A New Hope last time, with hopes they’d continue with the trilogy in another movie night.  Billy had grumbled about a lot of the film, but he hadn’t outright hated it like the time she’d made him sit through Peter Pan.  She knew all the words to songs and Billy had sat on the couch with a pillow over his head to drown out the sounds.  With Billy, he either picked something like Animal House or the Birds.  

After he’d made Y/N watch the horror film she’d jumped the next morning at the sound of a bird tapping against her window, to which he’d made fun of her for.  

A tap on her shoulder told her Billy was behind her and she turned to look at him with her arms full of food.  Her mouth fell open at the video in his hands and she asked, “The Shining?  Didn’t we already watch that one?”  she followed him towards the check out, putting all the candies she’d grabbed up with the video he put there.  

“No, I mentioned it last time but you made me watch that dumb movie with the girl who’s whole family forgot her birthday.  The redhead girl and the dweeby blonde.”  

“Sixteen Candles.  I was so excited when it came out on video!  And that’s Molly Ringwald.  I heard she’s got another movie coming out this year.  Maybe you’ll go see it with me when it comes to the movies?”  

Billy shrugged noncommittally as he fished in his pocket for some cash.  Y/N did the same and both of them paid for the stuff before heading back to the car.  

The first time the pair gone to Family Video to do this--rent a video and buy snacks--the cashier had scoffed and asked why Billy wasn’t paying for the whole thing like a guy should for his girl.  Which led to both Y/N and Billy leaning on the counter laughing when you made eye contact with each other.  Of course, now the comment wouldn’t have been so funny.  

Y/N ordered a pizza, got plates and dished it out before she had settled into the couch with some mixed concoction of what she found in the kitchen--some of the soda the family kept in the fridge and a bit of the whiskey her father preferred.  Billy had taken his alcohol straight, already downing one cup and on a refill.  

The pair were on the couch, each leaning on an armrest as the movie began.  “I bet you you’ll be over on this side of the couch before the first half is over.”  

“You have so little faith in me!”  Y/N faked a gasp, putting an amused smile on her face as she placed her hand on her neck, shaking her head.  

“You’re not denying it.”  

“What do I get if I win?” 

Billy thought for a moment, “I’ll let you pick the next two films.” She figured he must be confident in his film choice because Billy always found something to complain about her video picks.  “But that won’t happen,” he sounded overconfident and it made Y/N laugh as she rolled her eyes.  “So when I win, I dare you to kiss me.”  

Y/N choked on the bite of pizza she’d been chewing and she leaned forward with a wild look in her eyes.  There was no way in hell that Billy had an inkling that she had developed a crush on him, right?  This was just some joke, right.  So she relaxed her seat and looked at him, “That’s the worst bet you’ve ever made in your life Hargrove.  What’s the deal?  Got money riding on the schools are they or aren’t they bet?”  Y/N was teasing him, but she still worried about whatever it was that was really going through his mind.  

Billy shook his head.  He was so calm it was irritating Y/N.  “Nah.”  

“Then what, you just wanna kiss me or somethin?”  she choked on her laughter, shaking her head at him.  

Billy shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back toward the video playing.  Y/N pouted when she realized that meant she wasn’t going to be getting any answers out of him, so she sighed and turned her attention to the video and continued drinking, the pizza forgotten on her plate.  

Billy knew the movie was going to get under Y/N’s skin.  He knew how she felt about the horror films he’d picked in the past, so he was just waiting for the bet to be over with.  The last bet was during Lady and the Tramp where she’d bet him he would wind up complaining well before the baby was born.  Billy had said he wouldn’t.  The stakes were: if Billy won he could order what he wanted for both of them the next time they ordered from the diner, and if Y/N won she could bring one of her cassette’s into Billy’s car.  High stakes, since Billy hated listening to music he didn’t like, so he’d done his best to not complain.  He really had set against not complaining.  But in the first scene he’d gone and rolled his eyes, leaning on the couch, “But there’s no holes in the present!”  And Y/N had brought in her Cyndi Lauper tape into the camaro, which it now called home.  

Surprisingly, Y/N had made it through most of the movie without jumping over the middle of the couch.  Every time Billy looked over at her, her face was contorted in a look of concentration.  Which only made him roll his eyes, she was determined not to freak out and let him win the bet.  The look of determination in her eyes, even as he watched her flinch from what happened on the screen.  

They were more than half into the move at this point, but Y/N still hadn’t moved from her spot where she’d grounded herself.  She refused to move, except to look at Billy out of the corner of her eyes.  She’d caught him looking her way, but didn’t say anything.  Y/N was still trying to figure out what kind of shit Billy was trying to pull with the whole kiss dare.  

In the future when this movie night would be spoken about, it would be in terms of the bets they’d made and who won.  

When the credits were rolling, Y/N stood up and took the video out of the player and turned back to Billy with an angry tint in her eyes ( definitely partially fueled by the alcohol she’d consumed during the movie ), “So what the fuck was that dare for, Billy?”  

Billy stood up and chuckled at her.  He was playing it off as nothing more than just a simple dare to get under his friend’s skin.  But maybe it had meant more to him.  “Just wanted to see you squirm.”  He said, passing by her to go into the kitchen where he opened the fridge.  “I didn’t think it would affect you this much, Y/N.”  he’d called back to her.  

“I’m not sure you understand how much I care about you then.”  Y/N had meant to say it under her breath, but her voice carried from where she stood in her house to where Billy stood in the kitchen.  

“You care about me?”  Billy asked, suddenly appearing at her side and looking at her with eyes she couldn’t decipher.  

Y/N jumped and turned to face him, “You scared the shit out of me Hargrove.”  she nudged his arm with her fist, sloppily pushing against his chest.  

“You ignoring my question, Y/L/N?”

“What question?” 

Billy sighed and repeated his question from moments before, “You care about me?”  

Y/N’s eyes widened for a split second before she cleared her throat, “Of course I do!  You’re my best friend, Billy.  Of course I care about you.”  It didn’t sound so convincing to either of them.  Y/N was sure her voice had raised a surprising octave and Billy had kept his eyes on hers when she spoke.  

“Kiss me.”  he said quietly.  

“You lost the bet.”  Y/N pointed out with a soft chuckle.  

“This ain’t about the damn bet, Y/N.”  Billy harrumphed, putting a hand on her cheek and looking at her.  In that moment, she sobered up when he said, “Kiss me.”  

And she did.  

In the future, when they’d talk of the bet made that night: both of them would say they won.  

[doriscahill]

Fireworks at New Years Eve

Its my first New Years Eve, and man is it cold. Dry cold. I am at my host families home, its grand in the interior.  I love  them; very hard working. Their home is at the foot of Rabati Castle, the ancient fortress re-purposed many times over the centuries and recently rebuilt to its finer glory. This history dates back hundreds of years, some of it lost,; many wars and conquests. Its  only 10 miles from Posof, border crossing to Turkey.

Like the Castle and many homes in this neighborhood  are fenced in by various walls or gates. A  2-3 foot thick by 8 foot tall wall wraps the boundaries. A solid double plated iron gate. (you can not scale it, the drop on the other side is steeper).  One evening I was locked out, as the keys were limited and the family, all seven out, serving a wedding feast, one of several businesses they ran. I too out, but  with other Peace Corps volunteers. One, Ryan is a martial arts black belt. He thinks climbing the wall  a possibility. He hops up and down testing the height and his legs.  Me, far less confident replicating his hops and listening to assurances of lifting then catching me as I drop down the other side.  Even in my best young years, this maneuver  could provide me a broken leg, Should we succeed, such a gymnastics would only get you in the courtyard and  locked iron, door to the house.. Summer still, we sat outside on the ground against this great house wall, to wait for the key. Georgia things take longer, so we grabbed coffee for an hour or more. 

My first New Years eve comes quickly and I bound well with my adoptive family. We are inside the their lovely home. 

A family of 7 plus close relatives and friends plus me slowly gather around the formal dining table. Centered above is a regal chandelier, tall upholstered chairs wrap the formal table, the matching breakfront, best woolen rug afoot, in the corner an ornate marble fire place ready to roast the meals star, fresh baby pork. The finest jars and figurines on its mantel.  Squealing piglets arrive on grated trucks the day or two before. Luckily I miss the slaughter, but came close on a few chicken be-headings. The arching entry, the cascading curtains from ceiling to floor, the cornice trim, the wrapping sectional and cocktail table. A piano to play.  Simply beautiful.

The table is set with lace cloth, on that, fine small glasses for toasting wine and liquori. Each place has a small plates to sample the many dishes; serving in stages for hours. These dessert plates are swapped out for clean ones as the night progresses. Hand eating is acceptable. The traditional amber wine is placed on the table in clear pitchers. Delicacies are placed out and piled up on each other; Salads of carrot, spinach and beets with walnut paste, raw herbs, cheeses, breads, small meat filled ravioli-like dumplings called  Kinkhali. Special once a year items such as dried ham which hang from the porches for weeks, gelled brain and honey still in the cone. 

Chattering and laughing to celebrate the new year begins,. Toasts form the toast master start the celebration, thanking God, the new year and families and health. And with each toast, your tiny glass is topped off, so counting is not an option. It’s traditional, not to  let the guest’s  glass to get too low. You must say no three times to get the refills to stop. 

(This is the last day of the weeks celebrations, gift time for Orthodox Christmas.)

New Year's eve is the first big night of celebration, this continues nightly for a week until Orthodox Christmas. House to house, party to party, everyday for for the week. The first few days all shops are closed. There is a bustle in the markets daily as it leads up to this night. Mostly women prepare the dishes except the those little piglets, roasting the meat is the man's job at the fire pit.

Now in my chair, I begin to pick and choose items to sample, I am familiar now. I am think out of the box, “this is new”, I try the brain. Maybe you have had some? At  guests encouragement "delicious" , I parse the tiniest bit with my fork, its not a hand food, then "chomp, chomp, squish” stop to look up.  20 guests surrounding you,  with a gulp and swallow.  Next.  I go for the chicken, a safety food world wide. I did nimble the fresh fried fish delicacy, not bad. at all, avoiding loving the eyes. I know  eyes are packed with vitamins. It  never occurred to me the fish is not served de-bones. Again yummy.  I avoid the local cheese as its custom to not refrigerate cheeses for days, its preserved by salt so its fine, but changes the taste. 

Cake or desert is not common at the end of a meal, you would be served fruits and nuts during it. Cake, candy and ice cream are for coffee time, which is any time or all the time. Red meat, meaning cow, is not eaten much, mostly pork. The Cows are milk cows and they graze freely. You will see the cows come home each day.

 I spy the honey with natural cone and take the smallest piece. Taking big chunks like in the US is a no, no..no. I tilt my head and open wide, slurp, chew, then swallow. Delicious and sticky.  Yum, a moment passes, my throat  swells, begins to numb, my airway starts to close and breathing difficult. What is this? 

I had a number of those little wines over several hours so I was calm and think, this could be it, one needs to breath. It seemed like a long time but only seconds what should I do? the hospital is 3 hours away at best and if all goes good in transit. Then, thanking God in silent though  “here is just as good as there to die”. God gently whispers  “pay attention going forward about what you eat.”  Yes, my breathing returned. Sober the next day and  happy it not my last.

The room gets lively its close to midnight, as if children the men  rush outdoor courtyard, the women to the upstairs porch. I actually took video of this. Each house in our town of 20,000 and all across Georgia at midnight shoot off fireworks. Not your roman candle or m80, but industrial type super dangerous fireworks. Far too much wine now and giggling through the entire 20 minutes my host brothers, dads and neighbors,  aim and shoot off in every direction. Its amazing; dark sky ablaze; flicking dynamite size bangers into the street. Pow, whiz, screel, hiss and boom.  Of course the Boston Esplanade is grand, but boringly organized.

Even my birthday cake had its own firework candle! No wimpy sparkler. 

I think after six attempts this story is done...

Thanks for reading Doe

[decadent-treasures]

HOW I SAVE $18K A YEAR AND HOW YOU CAN DO IT, TOO!

I know you scoffed and raised an eyebrow when you read the title, but you clicked anyway just to have a laugh and maybe leave a sarcastic comment. I have my own reasons to laugh, about 18 thousand of them! 

Follow these tips and with some discipline you can save up for that down payment on your first home or that trip around the world or whatever big thing you want to do in your life!

Weekdays:

DON'T get coffee to go, that's $3 a day, Monday through Friday. DO wake up 5 minutes early and make your own at home, you'll save $780 a year.

DON'T order lunch- that lunch special is delicious and convenient, but it's $10 a day, Monday through Friday. DO pack up lunch the night before or the morning of, you'll save $2600.

DON'T use vending machines. I know you're thirsty, but $1.75 for a small bottle of water when you can buy the 2 liter bottle at the market for the same price? Just use the water fountain! And that $2 candy bar? You can get the King size for less than that at the dollar store! DO invest in a travel mug so you can bring your coffee to work, then wash it and refill it with water throughout the day. There are some cold-brew teabags on the market if water is too plain for you. Also, get cheap candy in bulk or from the dollar store and carry some in your bag at all times instead of wasting cash at the vending machines. This bring your own water and candy trick will save you $975 yearly if you can stay away from the vending machines for 5 days a week.

DON'T get take out for dinner and don't order in : you're too tired to start cooking and you're too hungry to wait, but that $15 dinner adds up. DO eat a snack as soon as you get home and start cooking right away. You can prep your meals on your days off so you have them ready to warm up after work. So forget about ordering in 3 nights a week, that's $2340 a year you could be saving instead! Not to mention what you cook at home is very likely healthier than what you order in.

DON'T get a personal trainer! I won't say DON'T get a gym membership, even though you could technically work out at home, find a place to jog or go as a free guest with a friend or family member who has a gym membership...But if you can afford a gym, by all means invest in your health, just don't get a personal trainer if you live on a budget.Yes, they'll show you a few exercises that target the areas you want to work on, but in the end, it's you who has to hop on that treadmill or elliptical and lift those weights, not the trainer. The trainer is there to get his or her $60/ hr. One training session a week will cost you $3120 at the end of the year. DO get your information watching trainers on YouTube and do your research on fitness blogs when you are looking for specifics.

DON'T buy groceries in the spur of the moment, especially when you're hungry. So you're on your way home and you decide to stop by the market, assuming that once you're there you'll magically have an idea what to make for dinner. Chances are you're going to rush through the aisles because you just want to get home already and cook the damn dinner. A few items are going to catch your eye: the unhealthy frozen pizza and TV dinners, the expensive salad in a plastic box, the pastry section because what's wrong with having only cake for dinner? I can't tell how much you'll spend but take my word for it, shopping when you're hungry and in a rush is not likely to save you money.

DO plan your meals and make a list of the ingredients you need. Stick to your list. Buy in bulk when possible. Use coupons. Choose quality over quantity. In the long run, healthy eating will prevent you from spending thousands of dollars years later to treat affections caused by bad eating habits or poor quality food.

Weekends: DON'T go out for drinks. Yes, it's been a long week and you deserve that cold beer or that Mojito, but having 2 drinks every Friday or Saturday night for a whole year will set you back $1560, tips not included. DO call your friends over. You'll get the beer, they get the wine, you can even split a bottle of liquor between all of you. Plus, you're already home, so you won't have to call a taxi or have someone give you a ride home. I'm not saying it won't cost you a bit, but you'll be getting a lot more than 2 drinks per night for this money.

DON'T dine at restaurants. No, not even Sunday brunch! Sure, home-cooked meals can get boring, especially if the fanciest dish you can make is lasagna. But a meal out at a restaurant- and we're talking popular chains, not fine dining- will cost you somewhere in the $50 range ( $10 cocktail, $10 appetizer, $15 entree $10 dessert, plus tax and tips). So don't go out to eat every weekend and at the end of the year you'll have saved $2600.

DO dine at restaurants on special occasions. Dining out only on special occasions really makes going out to eat an event you look forward to. It's what marks the occasion as special! But if you really want to save, browse through the online menus of fancy restaurants and then find the recipe online and make it at home. Serve it in your fine china, add a mini candle in a jar or two, or go all out and put flowers as the centerpiece.

DON'T go to the Mall because...what else is there to do? Going to the mall means impulse buying because yes, this world is full of beautiful things and guess what, they're on sale this weekend only! This one's especially hard for the ladies. Having something new to wear, whether it's a pair of jeans, a pair or earrings or that divine new body lotion- these are the things that make us feel like we can take on the world like the fabulous superwomen we all are. But life will soon feel anything but fabulous when you realize every trip to the mall costs you $20 at the very least (even if you found a great top at 75% off for only $10, you'll most likely spend another $10 on snacks and drinks because all that sale hunting got you hungry. So skip the weekly impulse buying and sale hunting and save $1040 yearly at the very least.

DO research fashion blogs. I know, we all have a closet full of clothes but nothing to wear...Waste a little time on fashion blogs and you'll learn about contrasting or coordinating fabrics, patterns, colors and accessories. So instead of always wearing the white cotton shirt with the navy suit pants, try those stretch marigold skinny jeans you regret buying because they don't really go with anything. A little research and creativity can get you a new outfit with a $0.00 price tag.

DON'T go to the movies! So you're paying $200 a month for your Cable bundle and you can't find anything to watch on TV? I guess paying $12 for a movie ticket and another $10 for popcorn and soda in addition to your cable bill will satisfy your desire to be entertained. But if your financial needs hold priority over your entertainment whims, skip the monthly trip to the movie theater and in a year you'll save $1144.

DO check out what's new on your favorite cable channels, use Netflix and other cheap subscriptions. Now, if you are really frugal, cancel your cable subscription, get a library pass at your local library- it's free- and check out their DVD/ Blu ray section and ask for the new releases! Why, of course they have the last season of Game of Thrones, glad you asked!

DON'T get a manicure, pedicure or haircut too often. I know, every time I pass by a window that says "Manicure+Pedicure = $ 50 ONLY!" my mind goes "Treat Yo Self". But $50 on nails every two weeks plus a monthly trip to the hair salon will cost me $1900 a year.

DO get high quality gel nail polish and LITERALLY treat yo self. Also, avoid going to the hair salon too often by having healthy hair. If your hair is fully hydrated and shiny it usually sits well and not many will notice that it's not styled. But good hair means buying high quality hair products. Sure, it will cost you a pretty penny but it won't cost you $1900, guaranteed.

So there you have it, a lot of DON'Ts will get you to save $18,059 in a year. But it's all very doable, notice how for every don't there's also a DO! So what will it be for you? A year of Don'ts or a year of Do's?

[seungkwanslowqualityenglish]

VIXX MTL... To be romantic

Most

N / Hakyeon - Hakyeon would live for it, he’d love surprising you with things like flowers and candy. Hakyeon makes candles in his free time, so you can expect your house to be covered in candles, like who needs to use light bulbs when you have candle light; well, that is until a candle probably almost caught a curtain on fire, that you both decide maybe candles shouldn’t be used for constant light. He’d be the kind of guy to sweep you off your feet every single day, constantly reminding you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

Hongbin - Hongbin would be the every day romantic, he wouldn’t be as showy as Hakyeon, but he’d still do some things like that. He’d buy flowers and candy and other stuff every week, yet unlike Hakyeon he wouldn’t need validation about it, he’d just simply refill the vase and candy dish weekly; you’d notice it and bring it up, and he’d simply just brush it off, since it was something he usually did. He’d also do things like taking tons of photos of you, not in a creepy way but in the ‘you looked so beautiful I couldn’t help it’ way; he’d probably surprise you with photos he took of you, decorating your house in photos of the both of you. 

Ken / Jaehwan - Jaehwan wouldn’t really actively try to be extra, he’d just be more romantic than the others. Taekwoon would be subtle with little things and Hongbin would basically give you personal photoshoots, while Jaehwan would be in the middle, the type to just pull you aside one day and ask you to slow dance in your living room with no music on. One thing about Jaehwan is he’d love praise, if he bought you flowers he’d expect you to talk about how much you love them and him for like ten minutes minimum. 

Leo / Taekwoon - Taekwoon would come off at cold, most people would think he’d be the least romantic; however, they would be wrong, he’d by no means be the most but he’d also not be the least. His love would be shown through the little gestures, he’d buy a new carton of eggs when the old one was empty instead of just hoping you’d notice it. He’d do the task that you’d usually do, to make it easier for you, like doing your laundry when you’re at work and he’s on a day off, so you’d have more time for the two of you to just relax.

Hyuk / Sanghyuk - Sanghyuk would probably try to be funny and make everything a joke, like romance to him would be poorly thought out pranks in between cuddling. More than likely his idea of romance would be childish in a way, like one of those little boys in preschool that pulled a little girl they liked hair to get her attention; except, it would be worse and he’d already know you liked him back, but he’d still do it anyways.

Ravi / Wonsik - Wonsik just wouldn’t try, while Sanghyuk would be childish, he’d at least try unlike Wonsik. In Wonsik’s mind if you two love each other like you do, there is no reason for him to try to be romantic, why show it if you already know it.

Least 

[spartacandles]

Home Products: Sparta Country Candles

Create a warm and inviting atmosphere in your home with our wax warmers. Our plugin wax warmers are easy to use and perfect for any room in your home. Simply add your favorite scented wax melts to the warmer and enjoy the beautiful fragrance that fills your space.

[spartacandles]

Candy Dish Refill Candle: Sweet Scent for Any Room

Enhance your space with the Candy Dish Refill Candle, offering a delightful aroma reminiscent of your favorite treats. Perfect for home decor or as a thoughtful gift, this candle infuses rooms with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Whether placed in living areas, bedrooms, or offices, its warm glow and sugary notes create a cozy ambiance. Treat yourself or someone special to this indulgent sensory experience today!

[spartacandles]

Delight Your Senses with the Candy Dish Refill Candle

Experience the ultimate indulgence with the Candy Dish Refill Candle from Sparta Candles. Each refill infuses your space with delightful aromas, transforming any room into a sweet haven. Easy to use and eco-friendly, it's the perfect addition to your home decor. Elevate your ambiance with our exquisite scents and enjoy endless moments of relaxation and joy.