#london candles shop

[kekeyw]

klean soho apartment. | cc build

hi everyone!

i built a two story apartment that features @felixandresims and @harrie-cc 's latest collections, Kichen 2Point0, Klean and Soho.

gallery id: kekeyw

packs used: backyard stuff, cool kitchen stuff

placed: IX Langraab, San Myshuno

watch youtube video here

download tray files here

how to place the stairs -> here

cc list below the cut

house of harlix - bafroom, baysic bathroom, baysic, jardane, kichen 2point0, livin' rum, kichen

harrie - klean (all), brownstone, brutalist bathroom, coastal pt3, halycon kitchen, kwatei pt1, octave pt2, 3, shop the look (all)

felixandre - soho (all), chateau pt4, 5, berlin pt1, 3, florence pt1, 3, grove pt1, 3, london, shop the look (all), paris pt3, kyoto pt2,

pierisim - calderone, coldbrew, david pt1, mcm (all), pantry party, stefan kitchen, office, auntie vera, unfold, woodland ranch pt3

bbygyal123 - advent calendar (shopping bag)

charly pancakes - chalk, miscelleneous

the clutter cat - dandy diary pt1, 2, snuggle set pt1

linacherie - backyard candle override

littledica - eco kitchen, delicato

myshunosun - gale dining, simmify guitar,

peacemaker - hudson bathroom, futura

ravasheen - flood saucer light, motivational speaker, sip sip hooray

thank you to the following cc creators: @pierisim @bbygyal123 @charlypancakes @thecluttercat @linacheries @littledica @myshunosun @peacemaker-ic @ravasheencc

[rheya28]

The Crown [ Lounge + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to The Crown, a haven of refined indulgence that seamlessly shifts from an upscale morning restaurant and lounge to a sophisticated evening gentlemen's club. In the daylight hours, experience culinary delights in an ambiance of polished dark wood accents, moody lights, and soft jazz.

As the sun sets, The Crown transforms into an intimate and stylish club, where discreet luxury meets thrilling entertainment. With an emphasis on sophistication, The Crown offers an unforgettable fusion of exquisite dining and sensual experiences in an atmosphere of opulence.

Additional Notes: ● In order for the adult club function to work, you must download the wicked whims mod [Download at your own risk]. ● This build does not have to be a club, it can be set as a restaurant, a lounge, or a bar. ● I am not 100% familiar with wicked whims so I will not be answering questions regarding the mod. However, I played around with it and did some playtesting as a club owner and everything is functioning correctly on my end. I advice that you look up tutorials if you're not sure to how this lot type works.

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:25 Speed Build 15:52 Photos Sim's Featured in the video are by the talented @rhdweauni0 <3

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: The Crown Lot type: Gentlemen's Club/Str*p Club [Can be set as a lounge, restaurant or bar] Lot size: 30x30 Location: Windenburg or San MyShuno

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi ● Wicked Whims by Turbodriver [optional: This is only required if you want to set this lot as a club] ● Functional Pool Table by Utopya

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! CharlyPancakes ● Miscellanea [books] ● Soak [ Floor pattern, wall lamp] Amelie ● Vintage Art print #3 Severinka ●Aura Bedroom - Ceiling lamp V01, V03 ● Ceiling lamp Alpha ●Industrial Light II Ceiling B, Ceiling D Sooky ● Dark Academia Victorian Oil Paintings 01 ● Horizontal Oil Painting - landscape ● Horizontal Oil Painting - Still Life ● Vertical Oil Painting - Landscape ● Vertical Oil Painting - Portrait ● Vertical Oil Painting - Still Life The Clutter Cat ● Dandy Diary pt 1, 2 ● Hello Horses FelixAndre ● Chateau [all ] ● Berlin pt 1 ● Colonial pt 2, 3 ● Florence pt 2 ● Gatsby ● Georgian ● Grove [ all ] ● London Interior ● Paris pt 2, 3 ● Soho pt 3 House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Livin Rum ● Orjanic Harrie ● Brownstone [all] ● Baysic ● Brutalist ● Coastal pt 2, 3, 8 ● Klean pt 3 ● Kwatei ● Octave pt 2 ● Shop the look pt 1, 2 ● Spoons pt 3 ● Jardane Kiwisim4 ● Block house dining [dining chairs] Lilac Creative ● The classic Collection Little Dica ● The even Grander Piano Myshunosun ● Garden Stories [patio lights] ● Lottie [candle] ● Simmify pt 2 [book clutter] Pierisim ● Coldbrew pt 3 ● Combles [chair] ● David Apartment pt 1, 2 ● Domain du close pt 2, 3 ● MCM pt 1, 3 ● Oak House pt 4 ● Tilable ● Winter Garden pt 1, 2 ● Wood Land Ranch pt 3 Plush Pixels ● Parisian Apartment [coffee table only] Simcredible ● Bossa Nova Ceiling lamp Simplistic ● Rusticlife area rug Sixam ● Boho Bathroom [floor tiles] Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Areas MycupofCC ● The Modernist [wall lamp] Tuds ● Ind Syboulette ● Ratatouille [Sign ] Utopya ● Pool Table [mod]

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[dreamgrlarchive]

A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Spring

since i won’t be active on tumblr when next spring comes around, and i’ve done 3/4 seasons, i felt it was appropriate to go ahead and finish the series! if you find yourself inspired by my aesthetic/looks, you can absolutely use this as a guide for the next primavera season! 🐇

what’s the look this spring?

my personal forecast for fashion spring ‘24 is “pink pilates bimbo” for sure. the renewal of spring is the time for a wellness reset. so i’ll be engaging in a physical activity but i’ll still be in barbie attire. pink athleisure pieces with super girly additions is my predicted aesthetic. 🎀

first and foremost…

let’s talk about what spring symbolizes: renewal, cleansing, and restarting. that makes itself apparent in the seasons colors; the darkness of winter transitions to the soft pastels of spring.

preparation

start spring cleaning and prepping for seasonal allergies. stock up on in season fruits to keep in the house. take up outside activities like biking, outdoor yoga, and jogging. buy new fragrances. prep your skin and hair for the overtime humidity.

essentials

pretty umbrella

allergy meds/quarterly check up

new water bottle/tumbler

fresh and clean candles + home fragrances

matcha and jade citrus tea

humidifier

neti pot

clothes and accessories

pink athleisure. the lululemon strawberry milkshake jacket is a must! (or a dupe if you’re on budget)

foldover yoga pants

bedazzled pieces

pastel colored pieces

cute mini bags

victoria’s secret totes

tennis skirts

sheer + lacey tops

florals for spring? groundbreaking.

glitter + sequins

satin dresses

lace up sandals

hunter boots

coach baguettes

victoria’s secret co-ords, leggings and sweaters

ballet flats

ugg slippers + fluff sandals

cute gym shoes with pink/sparkly details

lace up pieces

baby blue is a staple color for spring

ruffle trims

warm materials + revealing cuts

“pastry princess” looks inspired by sweets and dessertz

cropped baby tees

stripper heelz

diamond jewelry

body jewelry + belly chainz

sparkly hair clips and headbands

butterfly aesthetics

ribbons and bows

ostrich feathers

sparkly keychains and wristlets

bodysuits + heels combo

statement jewelry like hello kitty, fruit or desserts

beauty

pretty eye pigments (try mac, huda or iconic london)

vibrant pinks

warm bronzer

glitter gloss

translucent glosses in pink and orange

charlotte tilbury flawless filter

nars super orgasm blush

morphe 8r complexion palette

morphe nikita palette

natasha denona diamond & glow (favvv)

a bunch of clear glosses

fenty diamond bomb

fenty fussy gloss bomb

urban decay moondust shadows

cake beauty products

joseon spf 50

bright and/or floral fragrances (gucci flora gorgeous gardenia, jimmy choo illicit flower, carolina herrera good girl blush, juliette has a gun collection, yves saint laurent mon paris intensement, marc jacobs daisy fragrances)

victoria’s secret love spell + warm and cozy + la crème fragrances

sol de janeiro body mists

body shimmer (fenty beauty or bath and body works)

sweet body butters

sol de janeiro beija flor

exfoliating gloves

juicy sheet masks

cetaphil moisturizing cream

native candy shop collection

victoria’s secret tease + eau so sexy

5 blade razors and post shave oil

cute mirrors to keep in my purses

glitter nails

lavenders and pinks

protein treatments for moisture overload

[daisyblog]

Love Day

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.

“Happy Valentine’s Day baby!” Harry whispered to YN, whose eyes were still closed as they laid in bed. With his hand resting on her now rounded tummy, Harry placed a small peck to her exposed skin, where his white t shirt at risen up her bump. “And happy Valentine’s Day to my other favourite girl!”. 

YN’s lips turned up slightly when she felt his lips kissing her baby bump, where their little girl was growing nicely. “Happy Valentine’s Day Mr Styles!”. YN tugged at his arm so he was now hovering above her, her hands sitting on his bare shoulders.

“G’morning Mrs Styles!”. Harry smiled into the kiss, their lips moving slowly against the other. Their hands gently exploring the others body. “God I love calling you my wife.”. 

Wednesday had started with a lazy morning for the newly wed couple, Harry had made them both breakfast in bed, which later resulted with their clothes being thrown on the floor and the pair tangled in between the sheets. 

Before they got out of bed, Harry pulled a white envelope from behind his back. “I know we said we weren’t going to do presents…but I couldn’t resist this one and it’s kind of for both of us”. 

“Harry!” YN whined and her now plump lips from a busy morning pouted. “We agreed”. She carefully opened the envelope and inside was an appointment card for a private baby scan dated for that day. “Is this a joke?”. 

“No…no joke baby”. Harry reassured her, as he smiled brightly, his white teeth on full display. “We’re going to see our baby!” YN pulled him closer and placed her lips on his whilst she mumbled ‘thank you’ over and over again. 

After showering and getting ready for the day, they headed out for the afternoon for a walk around London. They had stopped off at a small coffee shop for a drink and some donuts. They were sat at the back of the cosy vintage shop and Harry couldn’t help but smile as YN took a bite of her donut. 

“Whot?” YN eyed Harry suspiciously, wondering why he was grinning at her all of a sudden. She dabbed the napkin against her mouth quickly. “Do I have something on me face?”.

“No…I was just thinking about our first Valentine’s Day and now we’re married with our baby girl on the way”. Harry’s hand naturally went to YN’s tummy, where he could feel some movement of their daughter. 

“I guess our wishes did come true!”. 

---

12th of February 2012

As One Direction were on tour in Glasgow on Valentine’s Day, Harry had planned for YN to stay at the flat after their London show to celebrate early. He wanted to wine and dine her, but with YN still being seventeen it just wasn’t possible. So to Harry’s benefit, Louis was travelling to Scotland earlier than the rest of the boys which meant he had the flat to himself. 

Whilst YN was in the bath, and pampering herself ahead of the relaxing night they had planned, Harry was getting the living room ready with blankets, pillows, duvets, snacks and everything else they needed. He had just finished lighting some candles, that created a soft glow in the room, when YN entered. 

YN was cuddled on Harry’s lap, the film playing in the background as they both spoke, not really paying attention to the film. YN’s fingers played with the strings on Harry’s hoodie. “Do you ever think about the future?”.

“Yeh quite a bit actually” he confessed, as he moved his hand to YN’s exposed thigh. “Why? Do you?”.

She only nodded as her fingers continued to twist the cotton. “What do you want yours to look like?”. 

Harry scratched the back of his neck, whilst he thought. “I want to be happy…I’d like to have a wife and children…uh yeah keep making music and touring”. He could see YN try to hide her smile. He wanted to add that he’d like that life with her, but only being a few months into their relationship he was worried it may come across too much. “What about you?”. 

“Well I’m just going to be really forward…I want to be your wife and have a family with you”. YN said matter of fact. Harry could feel the pink appear on his cheeks as he tried to act cool about the conversation. 

---

Entering the small private clinic, Harry and YN were greeted with a warm welcome from the lady behind the reception desk. “Oh waw…you are glowing!”. She complimented YN as she stood in front of her. 

“Aww thank you…I think being pregnant is my new favourite thing!”. YN smiled and let out a chuckle at Harry’s raised eyebrows. 

The receptionist took some details from YN before they were both told to sit in the waiting room. They didn’t have to wait long until a young female called. 

“Mrs Styles?”. Her voice was soft and a warm smile filled her face. They followed her into a smaller room which had a bed and a few chairs by the side of it. “Come on in…I’m Jessica and this is Paula”. She pointed towards the older woman who sat on a chair near a desk. 

“Ahh so you’re the famous Harry that Jess is always talking about!” Paula revealed, a teasing tone to her voice, showing the type of relationship the two colleagues had. 

“Paula!”. The younger of the two gave her a warning look. But Harry and YN only laughed and reassured her that it was okay. “I am a fan…but I am professional and I wouldn’t reveal any of your details”. 

“You’re alright babe…it’s nothing I wouldn’t reveal myself”. YN’s laid back tone was enough to reassure her. 

YN laid down on the bed, Harry taking a seat next to the bed. They had been to a few scans already so it was like second nature to them both now. As Jessica got the probe ready, YN pulled up her jumper and lowered her leggings down that exposed her bump. 

Within a few minutes, they could see their baby girl moving her arms and legs around on the smaller screen. “Oh you have a very active little one”. 

“She’s following her Daddy!”. YN teased Harry. 

“You know you’re having a little girl…how sweet!”. Paula smiled over to the couple, totally in her element at the scene in front of her. 

“YN’s always said I’m a girl Dad…whatever that means”. Harry revealed, looking between the screen in awe at how much their daughter had grown. 

Jessica smiled down at YN. “She’s growing beautifully in there…she’s weighing about two pounds always so whatever you’re doing Mama, keep doing it.”. 

YN and Harry walked out of the clinic with bright smiles, new photos of their little girl, along with a few extra gifts from the two women, a teddy that played their daughters heartbeat and a free appointment for another scan. 

“The best Valentine’s Day yet…don’t you think”. YN spoke as they spoke drove home. 

“And next year will be even better!”. Harry looked down at YN’s bump. 

ynstyles

liked by annetwist, lottietomlinson, and 2,675,986 others

ynstyles Happy Valentine’s Day to my Husband and Baby Daddy❤️ View all 12,877 comments

harrystyles Happy Valentine’s Day Mrs Styles! X ⌞harryfan4 HARRY!! ⌞ 1dfan6 MRS STYLES!! 🥹🥹🥹 ⌞ harryfan9 hi Harry!!!

niallhoran Aww my three favourite Styles’😂See you soon xx ⌞ ynstyles Baby Styles is excited for her Uncle Niall’s tour 🫶🏼

gemmastyles Too cute 🥹

annetwist Love you three very much 🤍🤍🤍

lottietomlinson Look beautiful sis😘 ⌞ ynstyles It runs in the genes babes ❤️

louist91 Watch your hands Harold!!😂 ⌞ynstyles A bit late for that Lou, not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m already pregnant xx ⌞harryfan3 these two never fail to make me laugh😂😂😂 ⌞louisfan7 the best siblings❤️

louteasdale How are you married? I swear we were just on tour😉

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

[janesociety]

hi lovely<3 can you do a james potter x shy reader where r is meeting his family for the first time at christmas?? thank you so much:)

this christmas

james potter x shy!reader

type: fluff

word count: 1.9k

summary: james brings his anxious girlfriend home for the first time at christmas

warnings: anxiety, small panic attack

notes: thank you so much for this request! i had a lot of fun writing this <33

marauders masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

“You’ll be okay,” James said, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, they’ll love you, Y/N,” Sirius said, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. “I mean, they love me, so how could they not like you?”

“We really should’ve stopped him from drinking so many cups of coffee,” you whispered to James as Sirius ran ahead. James laughed.

“This is just how he gets every time he comes home,” James said, his breath fogging in front of him as he chuckled. “It’s just up here a little farther.” He pointed to a large brick house just up the road. It was beautiful, really. Big uniform windows with white shutters all had wreaths and green tinsel lining them. The wall lining the property was decorated with glowing Christmas lights strung across the entire perimeter. It looked like a house straight out of a muggle Christmas movie.

The three of you had stopped in town after arriving via train from Kings Cross. You hated traveling by floo powder and Sirius really wanted to ride on a muggle train, so James arranged for the three of you to take one up from London. While there, you made James go with you to find a present to thank his parents for letting you stay for the holiday. If it hadn’t been such a last minute decision, you would’ve gone to Hogsmeade, but now you were stuck with the set of candles you bought from a local shop.

“James,” you whispered as Sirius got to the gate in front of the house, swinging it open and rushing to the door. James recognized your tone and stopped walking. “I can’t.” Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you could barely think, only feeling the intense fear that only grew as you approached the gate.

He reached out and places his hands on your upper arms, rubbing up and down to create minimal heat in the fridge temperatures.

“Oh, darling,” he said, seeing the look of utter dread on your face. “It’s going to be alright, you're going to be alright.” Your breathing picked up and your hands holding the wrapped box began to shake. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, reaching up to cup your face.

“Sirius! Come in, darling,” you heard the voice of a woman carry across the empty yard of the house and over the short wall you were in front of. You let out a choked sob as your fears intensified. James looked over to his mum who was standing in the door watching the two of you. He gave her a small nod and she understood, shutting the door.

“You talk the same,” you said, still shaking and breathing heavily, but laughing lightly. You were trying to find anything to distract yourself. “I guess that’s why you say ‘darling’ so much.” James chuckled, his gloved hands still on your face. Tears were forming in your eyes, but at least you were smiling.

“We can walk around more if you’d like?” James offered, tucking a free piece of hair behind your ear. “No rush.” You shook your head.

“Just need a minute.” You leaned into his touch, trying to focus your breathing back. James took deep breaths with you, his shoulders moving up and down dramatically as he did so.

“Tell me the schedule again?” you asked, closing your eyes.

“Tonight we’ll have dinner- I think I can smell it already- and then us and Sirius can do whatever we want,” James said, moving his hands down again to create friction on your arms. “Then tomorrow, Peter, Remus, Lily, and Marlene are coming over for Christmas Eve. We’ll go into town, have lunch, and then come back home for dinner with mum and dad again. And on Christmas, we’ll have breakfast and open presents, of course, and then the rest of the day we have to ourselves.” You smiled, eyes still closed but breathing now steady.

James pressed a kiss to your cheek and you grinned wider, opening your eyes to see his own boyish grin.

“We can take that walk still,” he offered, squeezing your shoulder.

“No,” you said, still a little shaky. “I’m ready.” He smiled, taking your hand again and rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

As soon as you got relatively close to the door, it swung open, Euphemia Potter standing in the doorway.

“Hello! Goodness, Jamie, your girlfriend is going to freeze!” she chittered off, wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing. “Y/N, dear, it’s lovely to meet you finally.” You smiled shyly, squeezing James’ hand harder as you began making your way up the front steps. Euphemia smiled brightly at you- her smile alone almost putting you at ease.

“It’s lovely to-“ You were cut off by a crash in the kitchen.

“Monty! What did I say about picking up the pans before they cool!” Euphemia shouted, turning and rushing back into the house. It was more of a scolding than a shout, like how a mother would instruct her child as opposed to a lovers quarrel.

James turned to you to gauge your reaction, but all you could do was laugh. You made your way inside, taking off your shoes and jacket. Stepping into the house warmed you up almost immediately to the point where your cheeks flushed from the sudden temperature change.

“We’re in here, darlings!” Euphemia yelled from further inside the house. You smiled cheekily at James, grabbing his hand as he led you to the kitchen.

Sirius was already there, sneaking food off what appeared to be a plate of decorated cookies. Euphemia was at the sink with an older man, Fleamont Potter, cleaning off a fresh burn on his hand.

“Ah, you must be Y/N!” Monty said, smiling widely at the girl. He had James’ smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you!” You squeezed James’ hand tightly before responding.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you said quietly. You were still so nervous about saying the wrong thing.

“James just never seems to shut up about you!” Monty continued as his wife remained cleaning up his hand. “His letter go on and on-“

“Dad!” James cut him off, blushing a deep shade of scarlet. You couldn’t help but laugh, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. “Don’t laugh at me!” James said, laughing too as he poked your side. “It’s not my fault you’re so intoxicating I can’t help but think of you at all times.” You and Sirius both pretended to gag at the same time, causing James and his parents to laugh. You suddenly remember the colorfully wrap box in your hands.

“Oh, uhm, James and I- we picked you up a present in town,” you said, stumbling over your words. James grabbed your hand again, running his thumb over your knuckles. “As a thank you, for letting me stay.”

“Oh, how lovely, you’re welcome any time, sweetheart,” Euphemia said, finally dropping Monty’s hand. She came over to you and took the present out of your hands. “Monty, dear, would you put this under the tree?” Monty nodded, quickly rushing off.

“James, dearie, could you take the potatoes out of the oven,” Euphemia asked, going back to tending to the dinner she was preparing now that she was done with Monty’s burn. “Oh, Y/N, sit, darling, relax.”

You complied, finding a spot next to Sirius- who was still sneaking cookies- and watching as James began helping his mother cook.

“He is really crazy about you, y’know,” Sirius said, wiping frosting and crumbs off of his face. You stared at him, deadpan. He was messing with you, you assumed. “I’m serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius,” you mocked his usual line.

“Ha-ha,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But, like actually, when you started dating, he would not talk about anything else- ever! He was totally mad.” You blushed, squeezing your hands in your lap.

“Sirius, would you set the table for me, dear?” Euphemia asked, taking her final dish out of the oven.

“What happened to relaxing?” he groaned, dragging himself out of his seat nonetheless. Euphemia tutted.

“I told Y/N to relax,” she said, shaking her head amusedly. “You decided to relax and eat all the Christmas cookies I made for your friends tomorrow!”

“Oh, you love me, Ef,” Sirius said, beginning to pass out plates.

“Here, I’ll help,” you said, grabbing a handful of silverware.

“No, no, darling, sit down,” Euphemia insisted.

“Really, it’s fine,” you said, blushing.

“James, tell your girlfriend that she is our guest and we insist she not do any chores while she’s staying here,” she said, turning to her son. James started towards you, a big grin plastered on his face.

“No, James, it’s really-“ he cut you off with a small kiss, taking your moment of distraction to pry the forks you were holding out of your hand.

“You heard the woman,” he said, pushing on your shoulders and forcing you back into your seat. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from laughing as you glared up at James. “Aw, don’t give me that look,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing your nose before returning to the kitchen with his mother.

The dinner was out soon enough, and you were sat next to James with Euphemia on your right at the head of the table, Monty across from you, and Sirius across from James. Conversation flowed comfortably, even if you only added in when James prompted you.

“So, Y/N, James tells me you’re a Ballycastle fan, aren’t ya?” Monty asked, looking up at you with a grin. You nodded, quickly trying to finish chewing your food. James squeezed your thigh under the table. “Bah, didn’t you think that last minute call the other night-“

“-was total bull!” you finished for him, the two of you laughing. James chuckled.

“No, no, you Bats fans are just sore losers,” James said, his smile matching his father’s.

“Says the Puddle Dud,” Sirius spoke up, causing the table to burst out laughing.

“Hey, how many European Cups have the Bats won again?” James feigned curiosity.

“Oh, okay, you want to bring up the Euro Cup then? When the Magpies have won just as many?” Sirius said. James’ hand was no longer on your leg and was now waving wildly in the air as his and Sirius’ debate became more heated.

“Alright, boys,” Euphemia said, immediately halting the argument.

“I just don’t know how you live with him, Ef,” Sirius said, exasperated. “I mean, he likes the most overrated team in the league!”

“You live with me too now, y’know,” James said, glaring at him. Sirius looked up with a stoic look on his face.

“Effy, Monty, I think it’s time we’ve had a real conversation about James moving out,” Sirius said, putting down his silverware.

“Enough,” Euphemia said, laughing at their antics. “You boys are too much.” Sirius and James ended their short scuffle with childish tongues stuck out at each other.

“James,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. He immediately stopped and turned to you.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she now?” Euphemia said, smiling as she took a sip of her sparkling drink.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sirius said, returning to his meal. “The boy is whipped.”

[honeycombsims]

Coastal Abode (furnished)

I don't know what took longer, furnishing this house or making the cc list for it

4 Beds, 3 Baths

30 x 20 lot

§173,000

download (patreon, completely free)

more screenshots and CC list below

CC List

Harrie

The Coastal Collection - Part One

The Coastal Collection - Part Two

The Coastal Collection - Part Three

The Coastal Collection - Part 4

The Coastal Collection - Part Five

Coastal Collection - Part Six

The Coastal Collection - Part 7

The Coastal Collection - Part Eight

Porto

Lilac Creative

Kitchen Decor

"That Sim" Essentials Part I

myshunosun

Bake It Up

Herbalist Kitchen

DAWN LIVING

LOTTIE BEDROOM

MIDSUMMER EVE

Sona Dining

Simmify Music Nook Part 2

Lullaby Nursery

Tranquil Bedroom

Pierisim

WOODLAND Ranch

Domaine du Clos - part 3

Auntie Vera's Bathroom

David's Apartment - part 2

Winter Garden

Teeny Weeny

CALDERONE bedroom

MCM House part 3

OAK HOUSE part.6

OAK HOUSE part.1

OAK HOUSE part.4

OAK HOUSE part5

THE OFFICE

TIDYING UP

WINTER GARDEN

Tuds

Tiles!

SHKR Kitchen

IND Restaurant

Beam Kitchen

CRIB

Felixandre

FAIRYLICIOUS :)

CHATEAU Part 5 :)

CHATEAU Part 7 :)

CHATEAU Part 4 :)

BERLIN Set Part 3:)

precious promises

LONDON Set Full:)

SHOP THE LOOK Season1 :)

FLORENCE Part 1

Awingedllama

Nostalgia Living CC Stuff Pack

• boho living stuff pack •

conversions for infants

apartment therapy inspired stuff pack V2

KKB

[KKB'sMM]My Cherish Things

[KKB'sMM]Citrus Room

[KKB'sMM]My Heimish Hall

Max20

Bathroom Pack

Classic Kitchen kit

Child dream kit

Cozy Backyard Pack

The Clutter Cat

Ｓｕｎｎｙ Ｓｕｎｄａｅ part I 🍦♥ ♥

ＢＡＢＹ ＢＯＯ

𝐵𝓊𝓈𝓎𝐵𝑒𝑒

Cowbuild

Soft & Serene Nursery

Blooming Garden Cafe

Charly Pancakes

the lighthouse collection

smol

chalk pt.III

diaper days

Miscellanea

Modish

Munch

soak

House of Harlix

TINY TWAVELLERS

ORJÁNIC - Part 2

BAYSIC

LIVIN’ RUM

Peacemaker

Creta Indoor & Outdoor Kitchen

Cats & Dogs Build Mode Expanded

Elsie Bedroom Basics

Hinterlands Bedroom

Kitayama Living

Plush Pixels

Summer in the Hamptons

Urban outdoor

Rooaarr...

Sixam CC

Tiny Playrooms - Kitchen and Music (CC Pack for The Sims 4)

Boho Baby

ScentsibleSim Scented Candle (fixed)

Art Studio My Rustic Lodge

My Cup of CC

Teenage Dream

Tiny Dreamers

Misc

sad beige baby playmat by blarffy

FOLKLORE SET by Lili's Palace

The Sims 4 Rise&Grind Coffee House by Littledica

Aubrey Office by leaf-motif

Art Attack Posters by Pluto Sims

RUTLAND Kitchen CC Pack! By S-imagination

Cottage bedroom by Syboulette

Petal Pals Flower Vase by Who is Sage

[imnotjaesblog]

Hogwarts Dreams at Night

Part 1: An Owl Appears

Warnings: None

MINORS DO NOT READ!!

Words: 4k

At eleven years old you sat by the bay window in your living room. You tapped boredly on the glass watching as two raindrops raced to the bottom. Your head resting on your palm. You sighed the right raindrop splashing onto the bottom of the window. It was another boring Sunday.

Your parents were out working. Your parents owned a flower shop in London. Your mother's dream was to have her own shop to grow and sell flowers. When an order came in for a bouquet of flowers for a wedding or Valentine's Day she always cheered. Your father followed her to London, his wish was to be with her, to always make her happy.

He did just that when they had you.

Now at eleven, you sat by the bay window waiting for them to come home. It was too wet and cold to play outside. All of your friends were home probably finishing their homework. You had completed your school work the day it was given and handed it in the same day.

You loved reading but you'd already read every book in your collection including your mother's, twice. So there was nothing left for you to do but sit and wait for them to return.

at three o'clock your parents were still out working. The nanny they left you with was asleep on the couch placed in front of the TV. The only thing that separated the two was a brown coffee table your father made.

At four o'clock you got hungry. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself a bowl of cereal, you hadn't learned how to use the stove yet but you were sure you could figure it out.

At five o'clock you laid on your bed reading again. An encyclopedia all about frogs. You had just learned about amphibians and reptiles in school. Just as you reached your favorite part, there was a tap on your window. You perked your head eyes zooming in the glass. A branch large enough to fit a bird's nest blew back and forth in the strong wind. You ignored it until you heard another tap. This time when you looked at the glass there was an owl. A white owl perched on the long branch a white envelope in its hand.

Curious you lifted from your bed leaving the book behind. You slowly walked to the window unable to wipe the smile from your lips. You'd never seen an owl so close before, let alone during this time of day. Maybe the owl was sick or perhaps blind? You thought seeing the sun barely peak over the dark clouds.

The owl shuffled side to side before it flew to the window tapping on it with its beak. You smiled eyes wide as you flicked the lock opening the window wide. The rain poured into your room landing on your white carpet. Soaking the fabric of your socks. The owl flew inside flying around your room. Creating chaos as it knocked down books and flew past your candle darkening the room. You held onto your head ducking to avoid its claws.

Once the envelope fell from its mouth and onto your bed it flew out the window. You quickly ran to shut it stopping the rain from coming inside and strong cold winds from hitting your face.

You let out a huff as you locked your window seeing the owl was gone. You turned back to your bed. The envelope sitting on the mattress. You walked over climbing onto the sheets and picking up the letter. You flipped it over seeing a red stamp holding the paper closed.

The front was addressed to you.

You had never received mail before. Well once before when your best friend Jeno invited you to his eleventh birthday party last Spring. But you had never received mail and didn't know what was inside. Nor were ever able to open up the envelopes you received anyway. When you receive your grades or tests your parents always open them.

You excitedly open the envelope pulling the folded cream colored paper out.

Dear Y/n

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

You held the letter in your hands eyes gliding across the page. "Hogwarts?" you thought out loud. Every time your eyes flashed over the words witch and wizard your heart skipped a beat. An owl had come to you and delivered a letter for a magic school. To any other child, it would spark a whole new world of imagination. An escape perhaps from your boredom.

But was it true? A school is full of magic. The keys at the front door caught your attention. Your parents were finally home. Maybe they could answer all your questions.

Your tiny feet ran down the stairs. Both your parents step inside removing their shoes. Confused expression on their faces when you ran to them. Normally they'd find you deep into a book or your studies. They usually found you reading a book about whatever animal you had learned about or a piece of ancient history.

You rarely ever ran to greet them. They didn't mind it. They understood the powers a good book can hold.

"Hello darling," your mother said bending down and kissing your forehead. She squinted her eyes at the letter in your hand. Your father noticed it too. "What do you have there?" he asked pointing at the letter. You held up the cream-colored brownish letter.

"A letter from a witch school," you said eyes glowing. Your mother gasped and your father scoffed. He looked over at the nanny who was now awake. He walked over to her, paying her and quickly ushering her out. Your mother took you into the living room. You sat down on the couch. You sat in the same spot the nanny once sat in. It was still warm.

Your father sat on your left. You still held the letter between your small fingers. Your mother walked in with a sigh. She wiped her hands on her pants as she sat down on your right. A small smile formed on her lips. "May I see the letter?" she asked. You handed it to her with a small nod, as well as the envelope.

She expanded the letter reading the rest.

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for daywear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags. COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set of glass or crystal vials 1 telescope 1 set of brass scales Students may also bring an owl a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

She nodded off chewing her lip. "Still the same," she said. She handed the letter off to your father.

He motioned her placing it down on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked the both of them. "What is Hogwarts?" you asked. Many questions flooded your mind. What did your mother mean by 'still the same'?

"Hogwarts is a school for wizards and witches," she said. You raised your bow confused. "But I'm not a witch or wizard," you responded. "They don't even exist," you said. Your mother chuckled. She gripped onto your hands looking deep into your eyes. Her warm smile calmed you. "There are many things that exist out there. Far beyond things you can imagine," she said. Your wide eyes and mind started to wonder. Surely your mother was either crazy or telling the truth.

You chose to believe she was telling the truth.

"So vampires exist?" you asked nervously. Your father chimed in. "Hogwarts isn't a school for creatures or monsters," he said touching your shoulder. You looked over at him with curious eyes. "It's a school for people like you," he said. You sat back his hand slipping off your shoulder. Your heart thumped skipping a beat. "For me?' you questioned. Your mother nodded.

"You're a witch Y/n," she said a hint of excitement in her voice.

"And a damn good one. Once they train you!" your father said charged. "Being that your mom was one of the best witches that ever existed," he said. Your mother looked away shly. While your parents egarly celebrated the letter you sat there on the brown couch still confused but intrigued.

----

At 11 you had arrived at the train station. You stepped onto platform 9 3/4 after running through the wall of the station saying goodbye to your parents. You were pleased to discover Jeno had also received a letter in the mail awaiting his arrival at Hogwarts. You had both gone to the station together. You both sat beside each other on the train. Looking outside the window. Wandering eyes glowing as kids much older than you walked around looking as if they knew exactly where they were going.

Once everyone boarded you and Jeno sat back on the chairs of the train sitting right across from each other.

"My father told me of a sport called Quidditch. He said he used to play during his time at Hogwarts," Jeno began excitedly feet barely touching the floor of the train. They swung back and forth as he spoke. A proud smile on his lips.

"I'm thinking of trying out for the team," he said. You nodded mimicking his smile. "I'm sure you'll make it. You were our school's best football player," you said. Jeno went to speak but a smaller boy with glasses walked by. He looked into your cart eyeing the book beside you. He scoffed pointing at it.

"Frogs? Seriously? Are you nine?" he asked cocky smile on his lips. You looked over at the book and then at him with a shrug. "I like reading it. Why do you care?" you asked a scrunch in your nose in annoyance. He scoffed arms crossing over his chest. "Frogs are boring and slimy," he said stepping into your cart. He moved the book to the side but it ended up falling on the ground.

You went to get it but Jeno grabbed it for you. "Thank you," you said with a smile. Jeno smiled at you and sent the stranger a dirty look. There was a small beat of awkward silence.

"Are you two some sort of couple?" he asked. Both you and Jeno frowned facing morphing into disgust. You shook your head. "No. He's my best friend," you said. Jeno nodded, "Besides I have a girlfriend," he said. The boy with the glasses chuckled. "Relax," he said. He turned back to you. He opened the bag he held handing you a book.

"Read this instead. It's way more interesting than that boring book of yours," he said handing the brown old book to you. You dusted it off.

1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi

You looked up seeing the boy still next to you. "Why are you still here?" you asked. He opened his mouth surprised. Then closed it. He opened it again to speak but didn't. Instead, he stood up readying to exit the cart. Before he could exit an older lady with a cart of sweets stopped in front of him. She offered him some but he refused shaking his hand.

Jeno's eyes twinkled at the sweets. He had only seen hundreds of different candies once in London at a sweet shop. He stood up pushing the boy to the side. He huffed dusting off his brown vest. He fixed his glasses.

"Excuse me," he said to the lady. She moved her cart to the side for him to exit. Once he stepped out he turned to you.

"Make sure you return that book!" he said with a point of his finger. You went to ask him his name but he walked away. You huffed sitting back into the seat. He reminded you of a girl in your class. Always acting like she knew more than you. She constantly reminded you when she scored higher than you did. Especially on days you missed class because you were fighting her friends behind the school for stealing your books and homework. Samantha hated you were smarter than her.

Jeno sat down across from you. Many different colored sweets in his hand. He offered you a bright pink cotton-shaped candy but you shook your head. He shrugged moving closer to the window eating his sweets and watching each tree pass by. You turned to the book, eyeing the book of frogs. Maybe if you were going to Hogwarts it was time to leave the children's books behind and start focusing on things you'd need to know.

Like magic plants and their purposes. You opened the book to the first page. You noticed the book came from a library. You scanned the list of names. The last and most recent name reading was Huang Renjun.

----

At 11 years old you arrived at Hogwarts. At dusk, you traveled on a boat to reach the school. It was dark when you finally entered the school. You couldn't help but look and gawk at every piece of art, staircase, candle in the school. It was like something out of a storybook. The castle expanded the further you walked in. Feeling like the halls never ended.

You and the rest of the students were ushered into the dining hall. The tables quickly filled with kids just around your age. You stood close to Jeno. You both sat down at the same table. From where you sat you could see the kid from the train sitting beside a plumber boy with puffy pink lips. The two started talking becoming quick friends.

You looked away observing the rest of the room. Everything looked perfect, magical. Candles lit from the ceiling, floating over everyone. You could see stars from thousands of miles away. The table in front of you was filled with delicious full-course meals. The room was loud everyone excitedly getting to know one another and breathless taking in the large dining room.

You looked around the room eyes meeting with a brown-haired boy. He looked in your direction. Your eyes went big seeing him look back at you. A small smile formed on his lips. He waved at you. You raised your hand slowly waving back. Jeno leaned over your shoulder eyeing the direction you stared in. He zoomed in on the boy squinting his eyes. Once he realized you were making googly eyes to the boy he laughed.

You huffed rolling your eyes. "Ooo Y/n has a crush," he teased poking your shoulder repeatedly. You shrugged him off crossing your arms in front of you. "Shut up," you spat back annoyed. You looked away from him and at the new boy. He was laughing with a few boys next to him. Your hand rested on your palm eyes resting in his direction.

----

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor just after it placed Jeno there. You happily went to Jeno's side. Happy to remain close to your best friend.

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed that strange annoying boy with the glasses into Ravenclaw.

You were 11 years old when the boy with the brown hair and pink lips who you discovered was named Na Jaemin was placed into Slytherin. Your mother warned you of Slytherin's. But at that moment you had forgotten and were just happy to be with your best friend.

You looked at each boy and back at the room with a smile. You were ready to begin this new journey of your life.

Little did you know that these three boys would create such chaos in your life.

-----

You were in your second year at Hogwarts. Just twelve years old when your professor had to pair up with another student for a project in your Spells class. You went to choose Jeno, but your professor stopped you.

"Y/n," he called while everyone else found their partners.

You approached his desk Jeno waiting for you at your shared desk. "Yes?" you asked. He flicked away an inch on his nose. He motioned to the other students in the room. "You're a smart girl. Jeno doesn't need your help. I'm going to pair you up with a different student," he said. You weren't too worried about finding another partner. In your first year, you and Jeno made a new group of friends.

Still didn't mean you didn't want to pick your partner like everyone else.

"Who?" you asked. He pointed at a boy behind you. You turned and any worry about who it might be left your mind. It was the same brown-haired boy from the dining hall. The one with the big eyes and wide smile. He was leaning on his desk talking to a few of his friends. His head fell back in laughter.

"Jaemin," he said. You smiled a part of you excited. This was your chance to talk to him, get close to him. However, you had never really talked to a boy you liked before. Not without Jeno in your ear teasing you. This time it would be normal.

You made your way to him, a pep in your step. You tapped him on his shoulder. His friends, all Slytherin, eyed you. Their laughter dying down including Jaemin's. He turned his head over his shoulder tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

"Can I help you?" he said rather rudely. You brushed it off. Ignoring his bothered tone. "We're partners on the Spells project," you said. He scoffed leaning his body to you. "No we're not," he said. His friends started to chuckle. You could feel your cheeks heating up. You bit the inside of your mouth. It was getting harder to dismiss his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Look I don't want to be your partner either. Let's just get the project over with and I'll never speak to you again," you said annoyed. His laughter died down. He raised a brow pretending to think. He tapped his finger on his chin and then snapped his two fingers together.

"How about you do the entire project on your own and never speak to me again?" he said in the form of a question, a wide grin on his face. Just as you went to speak a book went flying to his head. Everyone turned to see who did it. Jeno had his arms crossed over his chest suspiciously looking the other way. You chuckled looking back at Jaemin who rubbed the back of his head.

He was the shortest crush you'd ever have.

-----

In year three you and Huang Renjun began to compete. You spent most of your time studying. Jeno being on the Quidditch team allowed you that extra time alone to study. You'd sometimes see Renjun in the library studying. You'd send glares to each other muttering under your breath.

In the classes you shared you'd always make sure your hand was up before his to answer the question the professor asked. At one point many students placed bets to see which of them would score higher on an exam.

You won almost every time.

----

By year four you and Jeno started to grow slightly distant. He was still always there for you and vice versa but things became more complicated when he started to become more curious about dating.

It seemed every week he had a new girl he liked. With a new girl in his life, he was crushing on.

You never paid too much attention to Jeno's dating life. Jeno for some reason loved to be involved in yours. You had a few crushes here and there but nothing ever too serious. He seemed to always want to know about them. If they were good enough for his best friend. If they treated you right.

But that's only for crushes he knew about. Most times he was playing Quidditch or with a girl.

You tended to focus more on your books anyway.

---

By year five you had officially hated Na Jaemin.

Jaemin seemed to pick you as his next victim. He teased you, but in the way Jeno did. When Jeno annoyed you it was out of friendship love. You knew deep down Jeno was harmless. But Jaemin was completely different. The boy was nutritiously known for playing around with girls before they slept with them, and then ghosted them.

You were not going to be one of those girls.

Jeno never really liked Jaemin either. Ever since he dissed you in front of the entire class during year two. However, there was not much he could say or do. The two of you in the Gryffindor common room had shared a moment togther.

He kissed you in the middle of the night. You kissed him back. He then asked you to the Yule ball. You said yes and when the night approached you saw him with another girl, laughing and dancing together. Then you saw them kiss later that night. Jaemin who saw the whole thing happened left you alone.

You weren't together but it still hurt.

That night you had your first argument with Jeno. Jeno was tired of you ignoring him. He just wanted to know what he did wrong. You told him and he became even more upset by your reasoning. He tried to explain the girl was his friend and he only danced with her because Jaemin stood her up.

He said "One Dance. I danced with her once because she was upset about Jaemin," he said.

"You still kissed her," you'd fight back. Jeno stunned and with a chest full of pain would ask. "You saw that?" to which you have replied with.

"Are you more upset that you hurt my feelings or that you got caught?"

You stopped being friends with him after that. It was too weird.

Renjun didn't bother you much during this time. You still competed but in silence.

Jaemin loved the fact you weren't friends anymore. It meant he could talk to you without Jeno getting in the way.

----

By year six you had gotten a boyfriend named Jaehyun. He was older than you and a Gryffindor as well. He was also captain of the Quidditch team. Jaehyun was a great guy. He treated you with respect and was very kind to you.

Jaemin and Jeno both didn't like him.

Jaemin still wouldn't leave you alone. Using magic to distract you during class.

Renjun became somewhat of your friend. He'd talk to you in the halls but it was really only to gloat about his accomplishments in and outside of Hogwarts. Any chance he got he would approach you. Reminding you that not only did he have rich parents but that he was smarter than you.

That same day would be the first time you got in serious trouble.

In the library, you used a spell to erase all his notes from year one to six. He failed his exam because of you. Your professors were disappointed. Word got out of what you did. Some people said you cheated. Others said he deserved it.

All you remember is that it made you feel good.

---

Now you'd start year seven. Much older and mature now. You and Jaehyun had broken up due to distance. You and Jeno were still not friends, Jaemin still enjoyed bothering you, and Renjun still hated you.

You still cared about Hogwarts, deeply. But not in the same way you had felt during year one. The same spark you had felt in the beginning began to fade. You started to imagine a world outside of Witchcraft. Maybe a normal job like your mom?

She was a witch and owned a flower shop in the muggle world. Maybe you could do something like that too.

So you thought.

To Be Continued...

Hope you enjoy my new series, Hogwarts Dreams at Night.

I'm excited for you all to read it!

See you soon ;)

Tag: @girlwholovesIpreppyattire

[midnights-dragon]

My Good Omens Masterlist (midnightdragons on ao3)

I have a LOT, and if you just want the list on ao3, the full series is here. This list will be periodically updated, but feel free to reblog!

One-Shots:

Delicate (4,068 words) — Aziraphale attempts to calm and comfort Crowley after a nightmare about his Fall. Takes place sometime during the 11 years before the Not-Apocalypse. POV Aziraphale.

Your Beauty Never, Ever Scared Me (1,763 words) — Very short and sweet, also takes place sometime during the 11 years before the Not-Apocalypse; Aziraphale asks why Crowley keeps his sunglasses on around him. POV Aziraphale.

Ouroboros (7,796 words) — Takes place after season 2. In short, it's the obligatory 'Crowley coping terribly and Aziraphale coming to his senses and returning' fic that I wrote, of course, to cope after The Kiss. Lots of symbolism to a snake eating its tail, as well as the universe, as well as a spinning coin, as well as Crowley's dynamics with Muriel, Nina, and Maggie. POV Crowley.

Smokey Eyes (3,686 words) — Jimbriel lights a candle in the bookshop without knowing the rules, and Crowley is spooked at the scent of smoke in the shop. Aziraphale offers comfort. POV Crowley.

From Eden (11,085 words) — Another fic that takes place after season 2. Aziraphale returns to London after realizing the corruption in Heaven cannot be fixed, and seeks out Crowley in an attempt at reconciliation. Crowley doesn't believe him, thinking he's only there to trick him and then leave again, and Aziraphale finds himself expressing his apology in a less-than-conventional way. POV Aziraphale.

But The Smoke Clears When You're Around (4,967 words) — After the Armageddon that wasn't, Crowley can't rid himself of the trauma caused by a certain event, and shields himself with defensive anger and a mask of irritation. Aziraphale convinces him that it's okay to rest and recover. Pure sleepy fluff comfort and domestic intimacy. One of my personal favorites. POV Alternating.

lay my curses out to rest (make a mercy out of me) (8,438 words) — Greek Mythology AU; gorgon Crowley (like Medusa), and Greek warrior Aziraphale, who has been tasked to kill the monster. POV Aziraphale.

but i might be hopin' about this (oh, what a sin) (1,362 words) — After Aziraphale leaves, Crowley grieves, and listens to Hozier, and grieves some more. Mostly a songfic of From Eden. POV Crowley.

you fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time (but that's okay, I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine) (3,376 words) — Aziraphale falls asleep in the Bentley, and Crowley begrudgingly gives up his favorite pastime of violating traffic laws and breaking the sound barrier with Queen music to allow him to rest. Probably one of the fluffiest things I've ever written, because I just love sleepy intimacy. POV Crowley.

Great Divide (3,595 words) — The missing scene from s2ep6 of Crowley's full discussion with Maggie and Nina, where he tells someone, for the first time, the things he's felt that have gone unsaid for six thousand years. POV Crowley.

Penance That Comes With the Lack of Proper Closure (5,928 words) — Inspired by an ask (my asks are open for writing ideas/requests!) by @ineffableserpentsss. After the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale forgets himself and sends a report to Heaven. This does not go over well, and Crowley is there to help Aziraphale process through the grief of being unwanted by his God. POV Aziraphale.

in the low lamplight i was free (heaven and hell were words to me) (2,017 words) — My own rendition of the infamous bus fics based on the newfound revelation that Crowley and Aziraphale canonically held hands on the bus. Casual intimacy, and cuddling, and the new beginning of 'their side'. POV Aziraphale.

Temporarily Not On Different Sides (or, the Beginning of Our Side) (3,757 words) — Set directly after the Job minisode; Aziraphale is grappling with the weight of his decisions against God's Will, and Crawley very awkwardly attempts to be a semblance of emotional support. Their (friendship? relationship? arrangement?) begins to develop in earnest. Ft. Crawley wiping away Holy Water tears. POV Aziraphale.

Snowflakes and Starshine (1,428 words) — Crowley and Aziraphale have holiday traditions, just like humans do. One of them: a silly competition to see if there's more star or angel decorations, respectively. Plotless Christmas/Holiday fluff. POV Aziraphale.

Nightingales Not Yet Sung (1,757 words) — Extended scene of Soho, 1967. Aziraphale expresses his worry for Crowley, and the tartan thermos of the Holiest Water. POV Crowley.

angel, just put your sweet lips on my lips (2,617 words) — Short and sweet season 3 speculation that I wrote to celebrate when it was confirmed, and borne in Neil's statement of 'they aren't talking'. It's very self-indulgent, with lots of kisses and a happy ending despite the angst. POV Aziraphale.

Nightingale's Lament (1,886 words) — Season 3 speculation fic. Crowley has to drive Aziraphale somewhere in the Bentley. They aren't talking. The Bentley is not going to stand for that. POV Crowley.

The Opposite of Eternal Damnation (2,349 words) — Fully inspired by Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach (or, the Crowley Therapy Fic) by Nnm — it's a missing scene of Aubrey, Crowley, and Aziraphale in the bookshop. Ft. Sleepy Intimacy and a therapist having many revelations about a client's rough exterior but soft interior. POV Aubrey Thyme/Outsider.

New Year's Resolutions (1,355 words) — This one's pretty self-explanatory, I wrote it for the New Year. Aziraphale and Crowley share New Year's Eve together in the bookshop, along with some extraordinary amounts of alcohol. Takes place before the Not-Apocalypse, sometime during the 11 years. POV Aziraphale.

it would feel like this (984 words) — Crowley has a migraine; Aziraphale takes care of him. Purely self-indulgent. POV Crowley.

Of Rosaries and Burnt Palms (1,516 words) — Aziraphale wears a rosary round the bookshop, and does not think of the consequences. Whumpy hurt/comfort. POV Aziraphale.

fell in love with the fire long ago (11,186 words) — Crowley is a firefighter; Aziraphale is an EMT. A First Responders Human AU one-shot of their 'first' (whumpy but fluffy) meeting, inspired by artwork by @tanpopomugishu. POV Crowley.

The Rules of Chess (977 words) — Crowley & Aziraphale enjoy playing chess in the bookshop. Plotless fluff, ambiguous POV but mostly Aziraphale-thoughts-centered. <3

Cast Thou Send Lightnings? (2,747 words) — Inspired by an ask from @moriarty4life; A brief argument between angel and demon spirals a bit out of control when Crowley's tendency to become struck by lightning when caught up in the throes of his smoking anger makes itself known. Basically; Crowley's lightning thing explained, but in an angsty way. POV Aziraphale.

Interlaced (896 words) — More plotless fluff! In a shared moment of peaceful intimacy in the South Downs, Aziraphale braids Crowley's hair. Inspired by an anonymous ask/request. POV Crowley.

soothe the burns on your palms (2,875 words) — Another work inspired by the art of @tanpopomugishu! Aziraphale has lost an emergency patient in his care, and Crowley comforts him. POV Crowley.

Early Mornings, Gentle Hands (694 words) — Also a work inspired by tanpopomugishu! An early morning of domestic love and peace for Aziraphale & Crowley in their South Downs cottage. POV Aziraphale.

nothing can get a look in on my baby (1,261 words) — An alternate scene of sorts. Aziraphale is the one to rescue Crowley from someone at the bar, with just a touch of angelic possessiveness; after all, no one hurts his demon. POV Aziraphale.

my aching bones are trembling (3,218 words) — based on @camilleflyingrotten's faerie AU; Crowley's curiosity gets the better of him, and Aziraphale is there to pick up the pieces when his wings are torn from his back as a consequence. POV Aziraphale.

Uiscefhuarithe (1,512 words) — In the South Downs, Crowley falls ill one cold winter morning; Aziraphale offers all of his comfort, and receives comfort in return. POV Crowley.

trapped within an abstract from a moment of my life (5,158 words) —Aziraphale is helping people in the 1300s during the Black Plague epidemic in Europe, and finds a familiar face hiding in the shadows of a sick house, in need of help of his own. POV Aziraphale.

watching still living roots be consumed by the flame (4,379 words) — First Responders AU; When Crowley returns home after a long day at work, he finds Aziraphale panicking, having thought that something terrible happened to him. He comforts him the best he can. Onece again nspired by and including art by tanpopomugishu. POV Crowley.

Multi-Chapters:

brought by the sunlight of the spirit (to pour into rain) (38,964 words, 7 chapters) — Please heed the tags with this one. Crowley is punished by Hell in the worst way imaginable, and is left in a state that leaves him, in his own words, broken. Aziraphale tries to pick up the pieces. POV Crowley.

Pull Up the Ladder When the Flood Comes (16,796 words, 3 chapters) — Crawley saves children during the Flood in Mesopotamia, and finds himself in an even more jeopardizing situation as he seeks out shelter. Aziraphale struggles with his own internal conflict, but attempts to help all the same. I wrote this for religious catharsis. POV Alternating.

you will crawl on your belly and eat dust all the days of your life (14,790 words, 5 chapters) — One of my personal favorites. Crowley sheds his skin; it's painful, and uncomfortable, and luckily for him only happens every few centuries. Unfortunately, he no longer has the luxury of a safe place to crawl away to and sleep thanks to Shax and Hell, as he is homeless, living in his Bentley; until the Bentley brings him to Aziraphale, who cares for a rather begrudging snake. POV Crowley.

Aim For My Heart (6,793 words, 2 chapters) — The second chapter is an NSFW/Smut ending. Missing scene from directly after the Bullet Catch scene, to the scene in the dressing room. Aziraphale didn't realize how genuinely scared Crowley was at the prospect of hurting him, and in fear, a lot of things are said, and a lot of things are revealed. POV Aziraphale.

i wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby (snap out of it) (24,075 words, 6 chapters) — Aziraphale comes back to Crowley after leaving for Heaven, but he is not Aziraphale; someone else has taken him over, with the intention of teaching him a lesson through Crowley's blood on his hands. I've been told that this one sends people into cardiac arrest, especially going in blind without reading the tags. POV Crowley.

Strays on the Street (54,252 words, 13 chapters) — This is the longest fic I have ever written, and it's a goddamn cat AU. I've made fanart of this. Crowley is a hardened, long-abandoned street cat, and Aziraphale has been recently kicked to the streets, sure that it must be some mistake and that his good owners are coming back at any moment. POV Alternating.

Coffee Breath (28,680 words, 6 chapters) — A rather cliche but cute human AU story with bookshop owner!Aziraphale, plant shop owner!Crowley, and a meet-cute involving spilt coffee, with angst but also lots of fluff because we all need a cute little story sometimes. Featuring a bonus chapter with their "first time." I have done multiple fan arts of this. POV Alternating.

screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing (10,324 words, 3 chapters) — Aziraphale comes to Crowley's aid when the latter is attacked and left beaten by demons, and the angel takes care of him while he's too weak to do it himself. Very unapologetic whump and BAMF Aziraphale. POV Aziraphale.

Serpent's Requiem (6,520 words, 2 chapters) — Supreme Archangel Aziraphale recognizes a certain demon's signature when approving a contract for the new Duke of Hell. POV Aziraphale.

by his breath the skies became fair; his hand pierced the gliding serpent (12,639 words, 4 chapters) — Sequel fic to the shed fic! Crowley sheds again a century later, in the South Downs cottage, only this time he has Aziraphale at his side to help him through it. Contains vomiting, heed the tags! POV Crowley.

The Man In The Dark Glasses Pays Us Now (5,663 words, 2 chapters) — Wrecked with grief after the awful kiss and Aziraphale's departure for Heaven, Crowley finds himself months later standing at the doorstep to Soho's local brothel. But not for the reasons you might think. ANGST ENDING. POV Crowley.

Appendange (15,115 words, 4 chapters) — When coming back from a meeting in Hell, Crowley runs into Aziraphale, who is returning from a respective meeting with Heaven. However, the demon soon realizes that something is very, very wrong. Mostly an exploration of religious trauma. POV Alternating.

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you (TBD words, 10 chapters) — A WIP fic, 9/10 chapters posted (as of May 18th); the brainchild of @moriarty4life who requested it and it grew into way more than either of us imagined. Supreme Archangel Aziraphale finds himself sitting across the table from Crowley, Duke of Hell; but all is not as it seems, and is that the sigil of Lucifer branded around Crowley's neck like a collar? POV Alternating.

Happy reading! Thank you to everyone who's ever recommended one of my fics; it's always an astonishment.

[artostyle]

Do you want to know about the safety recommendation, types of candles and candle-making techniques? In this guide, we have provided all the information you are probably seeking for that information. Go through this guide and create a cosy atmosphere in your home.

[coqxettee]

“ Old Money”

Winter Guide:

For the angels who want a classic, romantic, classy winter this festive season ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧˖°. ₊˚

Wear silk pyjamas in the mornings & evenings, to feel like luxury when your relaxing

Light candles in the morning and evening to embrace the cozy vibes of winter and make your rooms smell lovely

Wear faux fur: Faux fur coats, gloves, skirts, two-pieces, large silk bows in your hair and large fluffy hats

Wear elegant lace gloves when inside to feel like true royalty

Drink Mulled wine and eat delicate Christmas delicacies in the evenings. Miniature sandwiches, cheese & grapes, and luxury chocolates

Go on a luxury, girly shopping spree (Make a day of it) wake up early, make a cup of tea and get ready. Wear tweed and faux fur, bundle up in a scarf and gloves and go shopping for luxury girly things. Grab a coffee or hot chocolate and go to the perfume and makeup counters, they are always so magical this festive season

Read books and old fairytales by the fire and eat cookies, bundled up in fluffy socks and a blanket

Go on winter drives through the countryside, look at the frosty landscape and listen to classic Christmas songs

Bundle up on a Wintery day and go on a countryside walk. Try and spot deer or any animals that aren’t hibernating for the winter and take photos of them!

Watch “Old Money” Christmas movies and specials like “Little Women” and “Downton Abbey”

Put velvet bows and spray fake snow to glisten on your Christmas tree

Go for a Winter lunch in an cozy, “old town” countryside restaurant or pub, try some of their classic food and drink warming beverages

Listen to Lana Del Rey’s “Old Money”

Browse in expensive stores like Harrod’s, Libertyy of London and Fortnum n Mason’s

This is just for romanticisation purposes, please take it with a pinch of imagination and fantasies, but I hope it made you feel festive and magical

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧˖°.

[simstorian-blog]

Dusty Turf

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Parched Prospect

Lot Size: 30 x 20

(3-bedroom, 2 Bathroom)

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Used

Cottage Living

Desert Luxe Kit

Dream Home Decorator

Eco Lifestyle

Get Famous

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

Island Living

Laundry Day Stuff

Outdoor Retreat

Spa Day

Wedding Stories

Build Mode

AnneSimmer – Wall Mural Pt. 1

Felixandre – London (Chandelier, Panelling)

Felixandre – Grove Pt. (Plaster Floor)

Harlix – Bafroom (Mirrors, Windows)

Harlix – Harluxe (Used Throughout)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 1 (Column)

Harlix – Tiny Twavellers (Mural Wall)

Harrie – Kwatei Pt. 1 (Doors, Windows)

Max20 – Polished Sandstone Trim

Peacemaker – Curly Koa Flooring

Peacemaker – Simple Siding

SimPlistic – Leafy Wallpaper

Sooky – Victorian Floor Tiles

Buy Mode

Anye – Cal Magazine

Anye – Neomy Table Lamp

Anye – Zara Bathrobe

Awingedllama – Apartment Therapy (Rug)

Awingedllama – Boho Living (Cement Planter)

Awingedllama – Blooming Plants

BlueTeas – Rivers Bedroom (Base, Headboard)

CharlyPancakes – Lavish (Shopping Bag)

ClutterCat – BusyBee Pt. 2 (FlatBox)

ClutterCat – Cozy Casita (Candle)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Pt.1  (Leather Tray)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Bathroom

Dereon – Silver Lining Stool (DL Available via Patreon)

Felixandre – Chateau Pt. 4 (Square Container)

Felixandre – Colonial Pt. 3 (Parasol)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 3 (Luggage)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 4

Felixandre – Grove Pt. 2 (Stacked Plates)

Felixandre – Paris Pt. 3 (Pouffe)

Felixandre – Shop The Look 1 (Side Table)

GreenLlamas – Kerv Inkblot Rug

Harlix – Baysic (Bedding, Hanging Clothes, Packs System)

Harlix – Baysic Bathroom (Toilet)

Harlix – Kichen (All glasses)

Harlix – Livin’ Rum (Tv, Bowl, Vase)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 2 (Vase)

Harrie – Octave Pt. 4 (Light Switch)

Joyce – Simple Live #5 (Separate Towel)

LeafMotif – House & Garden Covers

LittlBowBub – Home Barista

Littledica – Delicious Kitchen (Paper Towel)

Littledica – Rise & Grind (Flavour Syrup)

Madlen – Dionis Ottoman

MyCupofCC – ColourTalk (Mirror)

Myshunosun – Gale Dining (Cart, Wine Bottle, Wine Glass)

NoStyle – Mara Living Chair

Peacemaker – Ellipse Armchair

Peacemaker – Mid-Century Abode (Bedframe)

Peacemaker – Oasis Chic Living (Cordyline)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 2 (Account Book)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 4 (Zucchini Chopping Board)

Pierisim – Living Room Mini (Citrus Bowl)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 2 (Rug)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 3 (Metal Sconce, Soap)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 5 (Table Lamp)

Pierisim – Oak House Pt. 4 (Shower)

Pierisim – Vera Bathroom (Mounted Hook, Robes, Soap)

Ravasheen – Hot Sim Disguise Clutter (Tray)

RusticSims – Kind of Modular (Books, Coffee Table)

RusticSims – Lofi Pt. 1 (All Lighting)

Severinka – Aura Ottoman

Sundays – Duvet

Sundays – Kediri Pt. 1 + 2 (Sofa, Throw Pillows)

Sundays – Kuta Pt. 1 (Dining Table)

Sundays – Pandawa Pt. 3 (Pouf)

Sundays – Sumba Pt. 1 (Pillows)

Sundays – Swell Pt. 1 (Bolster Pillow)

Sundays – Ungasan Pt. 2 (Slippers)

Sundays – Yarra Pt. 3 (Bed Pillows)

Syboubou – Caroline Shower Rug

Tuds – Ind 02 (Wine Rack)

Winner9 – Malibu Pillow

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: Download

[call-sign-shark]

Love Ritual

Summary: Among all the members of the Shelby clan who distrust Tommy's new wife, Y/N, Arthur is the one who suspects her the most. As the oldest brother, it is his mission to protect Tommy from his girl... Even if it means using the most awful methods.

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader x fem!OC

Words: 3.5k

TW: horror theme, blood, allusions to murder, angst

Notes: This work was written for @zablife's 2k celebration "A Night at Arrow House". Congratulations honey, here to many more! Room chosen: Bathroom🖤

Y/N Shelby.

The first time you had heard someone call you so was the day of your marriage right after the infamous Thomas Shelby had put a golden wedding ring around your finger and the priest declared you wife and husband. You could still clearly remember the way his strong and calloused hands, damaged by years of excruciating work and one World War, rested proudly on your hips when his smooth lips crashed against yours. He had kissed you as if his life depended on it, the sensual press of his mouth sending shivers of pleasure through your body to the extent of weakening your legs. Admittedly, things had happened rather fast between you and him. Not that it bothered you though — you were more than satisfied about your love story, which had started the day you came in the Garrison asking for a job. The celebration of your wedding was barely over when Tommy asked you to pack your stuff for the magnificent and unforgettable honeymoon he had booked for the two of you. One thing no one could deny was when Thomas Shelby made a gift, it was always ridiculously expensive and sophisticated. After one full week of paradise in Paris, drinking champagne right from your husband’s mouth and only leaving the bedsheet to go shopping in the Champs Élysée, you came back between the mighty walls of Arrow House. In truth, your return to Small Heath had been inevitable and you already dreaded the absence of Tommy, swallowed by a shit ton of work that had piled up on his desk during his absence. Here was the price to pay to be Tommy’s wife, but that was fine with you. After all, you had it all: the money, the fame, the mansion, and even the heart of Birmingham’s most frightening gangster. 

The last thing left was to conquer his family, which you thought would be easy.  If the boss of the Peaky Blinders himself couldn’t resist your natural charm and your beaming smile, no one else could. 

Never you could have imagined how wrong you were. 

The idea to throw a party in Arrow House with all the Shelby clan seemed to be a wonderful way to meet the ones closest to your husband and start establishing cordial relationships. For the event, you hired the most talented cook in London, asked the servants to pamper the guests, and even wore the fanciest dress you found in Paris. Everything had to be perfect. What surprised you though was the worries in Tommy’s eyes when you had shared your plan with him, his turquoise iris turning one shade darker. Still, he agreed with you and let you organize the event as you wished. Honestly, it could have been, indeed, a wonderful idea if the family hadn’t decided that fate shouldn’t go easy on you. The cold and cruel truth, that you’d learn too late, was that no one in the family trusted you. Worst, they didn’t like you. Not at all. And because of their caustic hostility, they were more than decided to turn your charming party into a nightmare you wouldn’t forget. 

The sound of your heel echoed in the dark hallways of the mansion, whose grandiloquent chandeliers remained turned off. Following a violent storm, all of Small Heath had been plunged into a blackout. What an awful way to start the evening, you had thought, unknowing of the fact the Shelby clan had planned to do everything in their power to make it worse. The only source of light that kept the mansion from total darkness were the flames of hundreds of candles Frances had lit all around. 

An unpleasant feeling weighed on your shoulders and made the hairs of your neck raise as you walked through the silent corridors of Arrow House. What was usually a comforting haven had turned into a threatening place for reasons you could not explain. Call it instincts or sixth sense, but you were overtaken by an unexplainable dread now that you were all alone. Maybe the stress of the power cut and the roaring thunder outside was making you slightly paranoid? Or maybe it was the Shelby behavior towards you that had dulled your mood? No matter the source of your anxiety, the result was the same:  you could not help but take quick glances above your shoulder,  convinced that someone had been stalking you from the moment you had left the ballroom. Something was lurking in the shadow, closely monitoring your movements. At this very moment, you weren’t quite sure anymore about wandering in the vast mansion by yourself in almost complete blackness. However, the perspective of coming back to the ballroom stirred a feeling of utter anger within you. No, you definitely could not stay in the same room as Polly Gray anymore. From the moment you met her dark eyes to the one you left the room, the Romani queen had been nothing but a bane to you. 

It had started with her shooting you some condescending glances and whispering things in Ada’s ear as you passed by them. By the end of the pre-dinner drink, the fearless Aunt had waited for Thomas to leave the room to bump into you on purpose and spill all the red wine of her glass on your overpriced dress. When the mischief was done and the fabric of your expensive garment saturated with the red and smelly alcohol, Polly only shrugged and said “Oh, sorry love.” You hadn’t been fooled by her apologies though, for the way her mouth stretched in a sadistic and disdainful grin had left no doubt of her intentions. To this, Ada and John snickered in the background. 

For all these reasons you had run away from the ballroom, trying your best not to cry in front of her, and took the stairs two at times to lock yourself in the luxurious bathroom. You didn’t want them to see you weeping — you refused to give these hyenas the satisfaction of witnessing how deeply their behavior had hurt you. A little sigh escaped from your lips as you stood there with your eyes closed and your forehead leaning against the door you had just shut. 

“Are you lost, love?” The hoarse voice that echoed in the silent bathroom made you jolt like a kitten caught in the midst of doing something stupid. You turned around in one vivid movement, your wide-open eyes falling on Arthur, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His sharp face, sprinkled with freckles, was floodlit by the orange glow of the dancing candle flames scattered all around him. Such an unexpected encounter made you take a few steps on the right side in order to extend the distance between him and you. It was only when your back hit the cold wall that you realized you might have taken more than a few steps. “Thought no one would bother me here but look at ya.” He growled, the gravel of his voice making his chest vibrate and, by extension, your legs shake like leaves in a raging wind. Of all the Shelby clan and Tommy’s acquaintances, Arthur Shelby was surely the one who frightened you the most. Since the first day you met, he barely acknowledged your existence, rather ignoring you. The rare moments he noticed your being, he simply gave you a death stare with his frozen steel-blue eyes and carried on with Tommy's orders. While you didn’t understand the source of his hatred, you did understand that he, as well as the rest of the clan, would never welcome you in the family whether you bore the name of Shelby or not. Moreover, the oldest sibling was dangerous. All he needed was a little push to snap and transform into a rabid dog, ready to maim and murder anyone unlucky enough to cross his path.  And here you were, trapped with him in a dimly lit bathroom. The more you looked at him, the more you felt the immunity Tommy’s protection granted you slip through your fingers. You weren’t Mrs. Shelby anymore, but a prey freshly caught by a starving wolf. 

“I’m— I’m sorry. I just wanted to clean the stains on my dress.” Pointing your finger to the said stain, you managed to offer him a trembling and faint smile in the hope of alleviating the palpable tension that had settled between you. After all, this was the only weapon you had left. “Red wine’s stains are hard to clean.” 

Your attempt to render the mood lighter failed miserably: Arthur didn’t even bother to answer. Instead, his sinister eyes fell on the dark red smudge on your stomach, and, as they did, his gaze almost scorched you to the bones. As the fire of the candles reflected in his void pupils, his iris shone with a threatening gleam. You ended up sniffing, his silence making you uncomfortable, “Why— Why don’t you join the party in the ballroom?” You felt obliged to talk, or else his frightening quietness would have driven you crazy. Arthur finally looked away and shifted his focus on the bathtub, his long and bony fingers brushing the warm water it contained. Now that your eyes had adjusted to the ambient darkness, you noticed the red petals that were lazily floating on the surface. 

Confused by the whole situation, you frowned and tilted your head to the side: why did he run himself a bath in the midst of the party? Not only it was disrespectful, but it didn’t make any sense. It was your house, not his and this intrusion in the bathroom felt like he had violated a private space. 

“‘Spose it ain’t yer fookin’ business, love.”  Arthur finally spoke, punctuating his sentence with a grunt. He didn’t even look at you — instead, his eyes left the bathtub’s content and fell on the floor. Instinctively, your gaze followed his. 

“Fuck.” You mouthed, unable to keep your calm. Your smile faded from your lips at the sight of a knife laid on the tiled floor, in the middle of a pentagram traced with an odd crimson paint. At the end of each branch was a small candle. 

Your chest tightened at the way the dancing flames reflected on the blade. All of sudden, a cold breeze coming from nowhere rushed into the bathroom and made your blood freeze in your veins. The first thought that crossed your mind was to storm out of this place and yell at your husband that his brother was in the midst of a fucking ritual in your bathroom, but when you tried to do so your body stood still, unresponsive. Just like a doe caught in the blinding headlights of a car, you were petrified and your fight or flight reflex was broken. The only part of you that was still working was your tongue. “Arthur, your… Your hands…” You thought you shouted but in truth, your quivering voice was merely a frightened whisper. Arthur raised a brow: with his sleeves rolled up, you could see how his hands and forearms were stained with that same thick paint.

“Hmm.” He replied, bringing one of his blood-stained hands closer to his face to observe it attentively, “Oh, is this the blood that disturbs you eh?” Arthur slowly moved his fingers, enjoying the sensation of the drying crimson liquid on his skin and the beautiful patterns it drew in his hands,  bringing his palm lines out, “That’s okay. D’ye know that blood is a magical substance? Me wife taught me that.” He started, his thin lips curling in a wicked grin, “She told me the tale of Madame LaLaurie. Want me to tell you, Y/N?”

You slowly shook your head in reply, barely daring to show your refusal, and swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. It was enough for Arthur to stand up in a sudden movement and walk to you with the terrific gait of a predator. As he approached, your hand discreetly tried to reach the doorknob in your back but the slim gangster was too quick: he grabbed you by the wrist to keep you from opening the door and brought his face closer to yours. So close that his scorching whisky breath fanned over your cheeks.

“Well,” He started, allowing his free hand to graze your throat for the simple pleasure of feeling your erratic heartbeat against his palm. The blood from his fingers smeared your delicate flesh in the process, “I’ll still tell ya, love. Madame LaLaurie was obsessed with beauty. One of her deepest desires, besides torturing her slaves -because the crazy old lady owned poor slaves- was to find the secret of eternal youth. Hell, ain’t it every woman’s biggest dream ay?” His grin stretched in a Cheshire smile, which showcased all of his teeth and slightly lifted his mustache, “LaLaurie was a sick bitch hmm. But she had found a very interesting and efficient way to keep her skin fresh and young…” Arthur’s fingers suddenly left your throat to trap your chin. Then, he forced you to look at him right in the white of his eyes, “Can ye guess what it is, lass?”

“Arthur — Please I need to… To come back to the ballroom. Tommy’s gonna be worried.”

“Nah, yer going to stay with me a little longer alright? Going to keep company to your brother-in-law until he finishes his story, ay love?” His grip around your chin had become slightly painful by now, on top of his evil eyes roving over the details of your face, “So Madame LaLaurie found a way to plump the skin of her face. She slathered her misbehaving slaves and smeared their blood on her face. Ye heard me well, ah! She used their blood as a fookin’ beauty mask.” He let out a frightening chuckle as if the whole situation was amusing. It wasn’t. The gravel in his tone thickened the atmosphere, enhancing your fear so brutally that you almost suffocated. Silence fell in the room for what felt like an eternity as Arthur stared at your very own soul through his dark lashes, his round pupils reflecting nothing but a dizzying void. At this moment, you were convinced he was feeding on your fear, relishing the terror that animated your traits. He smelled it — how powerless you were. “Now, me wife felt tired today. Life’s been harsh with her lately, and the poor angel is slightly afraid of turning twenty-eight. See, I told her she was still young and beautiful, but the anguish is deep-rooted in her. So, I said “fuck this house party” and decided to run her a hot bath to soothe her soul,” The gangster tilted his head to the side — did he even blink during the whole conversation? You could not tell. “Before you came in that bathroom I was thinking about Madame LaLaurie… And was wondering if she would feel better if I’d bring her some fresh blood.” 

“Arthur, I —“  You tried to say something after a few seconds of carefully thinking the next words that were about to come from your mouth, as if the slightest misinterpretation would lead you to an inevitable death, but you couldn’t finish your sentence: the bathroom door flung open at the moment you started speaking and it closed again in a loud bang.

“The hell you’re doing with my husband?” A chilling and enchanting voice, as mesmerizing and threatening as a siren’s chant in the midst of a foggy sea, echoed in the room. A voice you had only heard once but which was deeply engraved in your mind. Your heart missed a beat in your chest, first delighted at the perspective of someone walking in and saving you from the creepy conversation you had with the oldest Shelby brother. But when you turned around, your dawning smile withered as you caught sight of Arthur’s wife:  the vitriol that was boiling in her eyes was so corrosive that you were pretty sure it could dissolve you right on the spot if you gawked at her for too long. The tiny hope you felt had already disappeared. Far too well you were aware that the young lass was probably more inclined towards breaking your nails one by one and maybe your bones too than she was towards saving you now that she saw you physically close to Arthur. Far too close to her liking. When you understood what was going on in her mind, you stepped back from him as if you had just been burned.

“No-Nothing! I swear we were just talking! I was about to leave.” You stuttered, trying your best to sound convincing but the weight of her accusing gaze made your confidence shrink — to the extent that you started to feel guilty even if you didn’t do anything. And if fear had already overtaken you because of the lanky gangster, it was an indescribable terror that was now coursing through your cold veins. 

“Angel.” Arthur gruff voice said, softer as talked to her. 

According to rumors, Heaven was nothing but an evil witch whose inhumane powers could kill someone without even touching them. The few times your husband talked about his sister-in-law, you had noticed faint tremors in his voice: he feared her. At first, it seemed exaggerated. Unreasonable. After all, Heaven was a short and frail woman, so petite that a gust of wind could have blown her away. Moreover, her facial features were incredibly soft. So soft and delicate that she looked like an innocent creature with her big aquamarine eyes and her plumped lips always adorned with gloss. But now that she was standing in front of you, dressed only in a long white silk robe, you realized that something uncanny was radiating off her. She looked too pure to be real and too pale to be alive with her snow-white mane and her iris made of frost. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine: if Heaven Shelby looked like an angel fallen from the skies, her beauty could not hide the Devil that was hiding underneath. For sure, her physical appearance only compensated for the emptiness of her heart. 

In this life, no one mattered to her except her husband and John.

“Talking.” She repeated with her strong French accent as she tilted her head to the side, her long white hair following the movement and hanging loosely. “Of course.” She scoffed. Each of her words made your stomach twisted. 

With the elegance of a wildcat, Heaven walked to the pentagram traced on the floor and picked up the knife. As she did, your eyes followed her, fearing she would stab you at the tiniest opportunity. “And what were you talking about?” She inquired, looking at Arthur. The gangster was quick to come to her and, when he reached his young wife, he laid his blood-stained and possessive hands on her waist, not minding the red traces they left on her bathrobe. The way he looked at her, with mad and obsessive love, only added a layer of creepiness to the whole scene. Maybe Tommy wasn’t wrong when he told you she had probably bewitched his brother. At this point, Arthur would have probably thrown himself out of the window without any question if she'd asked him to do it.

When faced by your silence, Arthur’s mouth grazed her earlobe with utter desire before he whispered something in her ear. What the lanky man told his wife you could not tell. What you could tell though was how the sudden sparkle that ignited Heaven’s eyes had sent a surge of unreasonable panic in your being. The hellish couple was now staring at you, like two wolves waiting for the slightest sign of weakness to devour you.  The oldest Shelby sibling’s face split with a threatening grin while Heaven’s full lips curled in a cold, sardonic smirk.

“Listen, I’ll let the two of you have a romantic bath and—“

“You’re not going anywhere, silly girl.” The evil angel retorted, pointing you with the blade of her knife, “Go get her.” She had barely given the order when Arthur, hopelessly devoted to her, bounced on you and seized your shoulders with a grip so strong that you would have collapsed on the floor if his hands had not kept you on your feet. With that being done, the frightful gangster sneaked behind you and locked you in his arms while the ethereal but malevolent creature broke the distance. She only stopped when the sharp and pointy tip of her knife painfully pressed against your throat. Then, she observed your fragile flesh with great attention, moistening her tantalizing lips with her tongue as she thought how easy it would be to kill you now. “The human body is an amazing thing you know? One small cut here and you’ll bleed to death on the floor of this bathroom.” She paused. Running out of courage, tears beaded in the corner of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks, leaving long wet trails behind them. “Come on Y/N. Light the candles and chant with us, I’m pretty sure I could use that blood of yours…”

A rush of adrenaline suddenly struck you as the image of Arthur and his angel-looking wife making love in the bathtub filled with your own blood flashed in your mind. It wasn’t a romantic bath they had planned, but a human sacrifice. Blessed with a sudden strength only the desperate ones are granted, you overcame your catatonia and broke free from Arthur’s grip, yelling like an agonizing prey, “Leave me alone!” You screamed, a scream so loud it woke all the ghosts of Arrow House up. Without asking further questions, you threw yourself at the door and ran from the devilish couple with tears flooding your vision and anxiety keeping you from breathing properly. 

Disappearing in the corridor, you let the darkness swallow you, unknowing that you wouldn't be safe anywhere in Arrow House anymore.

🩸 Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

🩸 Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @brummiereader @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @helen06dreamer

[caspianthegeek]

Nightingale May Prompt One: Night We Met

As Furfur disappeared, Crowley deflated on the sofa curling in on himself. Aziraphale’s heart stuttered in his chest at the look of defeat on the demon’s face.

“I should make myself scarce, they’ll be here soon…” he trailed off, not daring to meet Aziraphale’s gaze.

He didn’t know. That was excellent, it meant there was a chance the other demon hadn’t noticed his switch, either. If it all played out, he could keep Crowley safe. “Come to the Bookshop with me.”

“Not painting a target on your back, angel,” the demon bit out.

With a frustrated huff, Aziraphale crossed the room to take Crowley’s hand, startling the demon into facing him. He couldn’t say anything outright, they weren’t safe here and Furfur could figure out the truth at any moment. He tried to give weight to his words as he spoke, “There is nowhere I’d rather be this evening than in your company.”

The demon’s head bobbed slightly as he swallowed. Aziraphale couldn’t feel the terror rolling off him, but it was plain as day. It had only been a matter of hours since Crowley had waltzed back into his life, and he would keep him safe no matter the cost. This night was theirs and he wasn’t going to let some upstart demon vying for a promotion ruin it.

“Please,” Aziraphale added softly.

That was enough, Crowley was on his feet and leading the angel from the theater. By the time they made it to the Bentley, she’d thrown his door open as if understanding her owner was in a rush.

If he’d thought the earlier mad dash through London had been worrisome, it was a gentle stroll compared to how the car tore through the streets now. “Don’t want them to find us here,” was all Crowley offered as an explanation.

There was an actual screech as they stopped in front of the shop and a heartbeat later, Crowley opened Aziraphale’s door. He paused until Aziraphale held out his hand, almost demandingly. The demon helped him from the car and Aziraphale took the lead to the shop.

Clumsy fingers fumbled with the keys distracted by the nervous tension in his partner at his side. He could feel the protection swirl around them for an instant as they both stepped over the threshold.

Home it seemed to echo to the pair. Still, he took the time to draw the curtains before placing out some candles and wine. As Crowley sank into the chair and Aziraphale poured the glasses, the moment was set for his reveal.

The relief was palpable when Crowley saw the photo.

***

Shades of grey echoed through Crowley’s thoughts. As if thousands of years could be reduced to one monochromatic tone. Aziraphale’s eyes glinted grey, then green, then blue never able to rest. His beautiful angelic rainbow, hidden in plain sight.

“We should destroy the evidence, you know.”

“It’d be a shame, though. Evidence that I performed at the West End!”

Aziraphale’s smile calmed his heart and soothed his soul. He still hadn’t quite given up on retaliation coming for him, but he knew they were protected here and now and that was what mattered most. Well, that Aziraphale was safe here with him at any rate.

The angel stood, taking the photograph with him. He pulled a battered journal from the shelf and slid the precious souvenir between the pages before returning it to its rightful place. No one would be able to find it again besides Aziraphale, of that he was certain.

Crowley tossed his glasses to the table and fiddled with the radio until he found gentle music. Something about a nightingale song. He’d been so focused he hadn’t realized Aziraphale was beside him until the angel once more took his hand.

“You came with me, even though you thought it was your last night on Earth,” Aziraphale said softly.

“‘Course,” Crowley grumbled out. “Not like I’d spend it with anyone else.”

The angel was close. Almost too close. “I am relieved it won’t be. We’ve only just met again. Is there… that is…” he took a steadying breath. “Is there anything you would have liked from this night?”

You. Crowley didn’t say aloud. Instead, he only leaned closer one hand raising to cup Aziraphale’s cheek before he froze. The angel understood and closed the distance between them, bringing their lips together in a soft and chaste kiss.

It was everything he’d always wanted. The song warbled in the background about dreams and truths, and all Crowley knew was that he’d cling to this moment for the rest of his existence.

[cozyjae]

traveling with nct 127 🏝

dream version

going to madrid with taeil...let’s you take the lead on where to go, will vibe anywhere, loves learning bits of spanish, lets you wear his leather jacket, carries around any of your shopping bags for you, keeps track of your passport and all of your tickets and important documents, somehow always knows where he’s going, holds your hand while he navigates through crowds, planned dates where he plays off the amount of effort he put into them, candle lit dinners, takes a lot of sunset pictures, always very cheesy but you love it.

going to athens with johnny... his camera is always around his neck, pausing you too many times to take a picture (and the occasionally sneaky candid), both of you wearing matching ‘i love greece’ tourist shirts that he insisted on buying at the airport gift shop and then begged you to wear, taking outfit of the day pictures, renting bikes to ride around town, afternoon picnicking, his arm around your shoulder as you walk the illuminated streets at night, asking an older tourist couple to take a photo of you at the parthenon, both of you smile widely as they take one and johnny asks for one more, quickly pressing his lips softly against your cheek.

going to paris with taeyong... his newfound determination to speak french, practicing french phrases on his phone in the morning in a low raspy voice, munching on expensive macaroons, visiting all the typical touristy places like the louvre & versailles, having 1,000 new photos on your camera roll, taeyong deleting pictures to take more of you, hotel balconies, warm baths together in the fancy hotel bathroom, fancy new perfumes, giggles in fancy restaurants, giggles everywhere, walking together to see the effile tower at night.

going to tokyo with yuta.. hiking until you complain but the reward for reaching the top of the mountain is kisses, feeding and petting wild deer, spending a lot of time outdoors, happiness while speaking japanese, watching old anime reruns at the hotel and staying up too late, going to a cat cafe and staying too long there playing with the kitties, buying too many souvenirs considering it’s his home country, going to local markets, buying street vendor onigiri and dango, visiting niche earring shops, he’s just always laughing.

going to london with doyoung... him making you take aesthetic photos of him, being really prepared, always checks the weather before he leaves the hotel, cheeks flush and he gets very red from one beer, leaning against your shoulder and cuddling you in the taxi home, wants to buy every single person he knows a souvenir, watching the buskers at night, likes keeping your hand in his always, gets stressed easily and then you relax him with kisses, will sing in the shower, will sing you to sleep if you ask nicely, quietly will request to be the little spoon. 

going to sicily with jaehyun... wine tasting, sun dresses, golden rings, making pasta at a small local restaruant together, he of course makes it a competition of who’s pasta is better, taking a ferry tour and making you do the titanic pose in front of other tourists, buys way too much gelato, touring museums and always taking cliche tourist photos, blazers, firm grips around your waist, you trying to pay attention to the tour guides but you’re too distracted by his gaze that’s only focused on you.

going to hawaii with jungwoo.. confident english, wearing lais, hiking waterfall trails to exercise but then going directly back to the resort and drinking a lot of smoothies, being obsessed with room service, a lot of playing around in the ocean, drinking from coconuts, he’s amazed at the smallest things, especially all the wildlife, peaceful and relaxing, gets shy when you look at him for too long, his face is slightly burnt, follows you around happily, buys a lot of hawaiian shirts, wants you to wear one, you probably will  do just to make him giggle.

going to vancouver with mark... giving you the personal mark lee childhood tour (your favorite) of vancouver, loud laughs along the streets at night, making him laugh too hard as he folds his body into yours, wide eyes paying attention to you always, thumb rubbing over your hand asking where you want to go, freaking out when it hits him he’s actually at his childhood home with you, taking you to all the places he used to eat at, letting you decide what you want to do, is always down for anything, he breaks out into laughter randomly, his excuse is just that he’s so happy, you roll your eyes but you secretly love it, will keep a hand on your thigh when sitting anywhere, his hands are always warm and always find their way to you, buys too much maple syrup to bring back for your friends. 

going to nyc with donghyuck... going to times square and making you take pictures with the pikachu and hello kitty mascots in the streets, wanting to try on the funniest and weirdest outfits you pick for each other in vintage stores, embarrassing you in public and him not caring that you’re embarrassed and will absolutely continue, makes weird faces at you from across a store, buys too much street vender food and candy, museum dates, gets very excited over fossils, you have a full blown photoshoot on a roof top bar with your fancy mixed drinks, is always excited, swings your interlocked hands back and forth and hums, he never gets tired and just wants to spend time with you always. 

[julianalvarez9]

too far / mason mount

author's note: soooo it's been a while since i wrote something for this man, and it just had to be angst, you know? italics are flashbacks. proofread, but just a bit. it's kinda an open ending but i'm not thinking about a second part at the moment, sorry :(

wc: 2.052 words.

summary: things aren't going great for mason at the minute. he knows something -or someone, that could turn things around, but you might be too far now.

the doorknob twists, and mason sets a foot into his house. it's dark, no lights turned on, exactly as he left it when he went away, a few days ago. it smells empty, like no one lives there, and it's kind of true: he's never really there.

his shoulders slump and he feels defeated. it seems like he can't escape these feelings nowadays: he's just coming back from that first leg against real madrid, and the pain from the defeat is still weighing heavy on him, the scar still fresh on his mind.

he doesn't bother turning any light on, and much less making something to eat, knowing that his fridge must be empty. it's been one week since his mother did the grocery shopping for him, chastising him while doing so. "you need to eat, mase".

the brit steps a foot out of his car, and even though the london weather is as cold as it could get, with the night all settled in, he feels warm. he sees the lights turned on, shining all through the blinds, and he knows he's home.

the second he passes the entrance, mason gets welcomed by the homely fragrance of your shared home. there's a slight vanilla essence he can recognise, surely from the candles you love to lit, but also, a nice smell coming from the kitchen that makes his stomach rumble, reminding him how hungry he is after the trip back home. he can hear plates clinking and different sounds, which only ensures that yes, you're there.

"missed you" he says, while hugging you from behind. you're still busy mixing ingredients in the pan, but you still melt onto your boyfriend's figure. you feel the ticklish sensation of his beard over your cheek when he cranes his neck enough to leave a kiss there, and you smile knowingly. "missed you too, sweetheart".

mason doesn't care enough to clean up after himself, instead starting to undress from the minute his figure passes the entrance. the backpack he took on the trip with him is abandoned near the door. he'll take care of it in the morning, he thinks, if his mother doesn't get ahead of him. 

his trainers are the next thing to leave his figure, not caring enough to untie them before taking them off only with the help of his other feet. ben would, for sure, give him hell if he saw what he did with his birthday gift from him. "oi, mate! you're going to crease them!". again, he couldn't care less right now.

when he gets to the top of the stairs, the painful images return. it's like he was walking through his house as a mere corpse, going up the stairs in just his black briefs without actually seeing where he was going. he just wanted to jump into bed. 

instead, the spot seems to transport him back to a few weeks back, on the same site, same white walls and wooden floor, where he saw you for the last time. mason has made an effort to not think about it too much the thousands of other times he had to pass through the same spot. but he's not that strong tonight.

"what are you doing?".

his voice startles you, and mason gets even more confused at your reaction. this isn't usual for your relationship, he thinks: you, not jumping on his arms to greet him when he comes back from training; him, not knowing what you're up to; and last but not least, you flinching at the sound his voice. he can't prevent the pit in his stomach from forming when he sees you close your eyes, inhaling deeply before speaking softly. "i-i thought you would be gone for a few more hours. i'm sorry". 

he knows where this is going, even before asking you about it. but still, he does, in case he has misinterpreted something: in case this isn't as over as your sad features lead him to realize.

the suitcases stick out like a sore thumb, and the brit isn't one to keep from exteriorising his doubts. "what are you doing?" he repeats, almost expecting you to tell him about some trip you're taking coz of your work. he knows that's not the case. your work doesn't require any traveling; you had converted to working from home exclusively when you two moved in together. your reasoning was that mason was away all the time, you didn't need to make things more difficult.

"i'm moving back to my parent's house, mason. i explained everything in the letter," you mutter, almost inaudibly, like you're afraid he would get mad at your response. the truth is, you can't even look him in the eyes while telling him this: you imagined it would be worse if you had him in front of you, and you were right. that's why you wrote the letter in the first place. that's why you had thought about leaving when he wasn't home. so you could, hopefully, escape his pleads that would get you back to square one.

"a letter? why can't you say it to my face?" he asks, and even if it's a rhetoric question, you try to answer it, but you're left empty handed. "you're leaving me. say it".

he isn't angry, but his tone sounds harder than it needs to be. the thoughts are filling his head, and he's beating himself up for every one of them. he realizes that, yeah, he might be angry, but not at you, rather at himself. for letting it get to this point. for making you feel like you couldn't tell him what was wrong before deciding to leave.

"is this coz i'm always away?" he bitterly asks when you don't respond, rather standing still in the same spot where he had caught you. "i don't like being away either, but it's my fucking job!" he gets louder by the end of the sentence, before adding "i signed up for it".

"yeah, you did, and i'm proud of you for that every day". you're flashing him a nostalgic smile that he doesn't get to see, too occupied in trying to flatten the wrinkles on his forehead that had formed in surprise when he saw you with the bags. in reality, he's trying to divert his thoughts before falling apart in your presence, which turns to be even more difficult when you finish what you had started to say. "but i didn't sign up for living alone in someone's house, you know? you're always too far, mason. and i wish i would be talking only about the physical aspect of you not being here, but i'm not".

the air felt thick, and it sunk in mason's head that there would be nothing he could do to change your mind. his shoulders deflate even more, if it was even possible, when he heard you dragging your things past him, only to stop right by his side to give him a kiss on the cheek. a last goodbye, he thought, later on, once the dust had settled and the silence of your shared home, now only his house, engulfed him. your face was drenched in tears, but he didn't feel or see them because he couldn't do anything else but stare at his feet, and try to think where it all had gone wrong.

the first week was the worst.

he called a thousand times; morning, evening and night. you never picked up, of course. and it was fine, because mason didn't really know what he would say to you if you did. he only wanted to hear your voice in the recorded message that reproduced automatically after the call ringed too many times: he preferred to hear your chirpy, happy voice saying your automated "please, leave your message at the end of the beep!" instead of the gloomy tone you had when you muttered the last words you said to him.

"you're always too far, mason".

mason made sure to train extra hard, so sleep would come in quicker, but it had only made his teammates worry about him even more. he was visibly grumpy, and it only prompted more questions about what had happened between you two when his friends realized about your presence missing at stamford bridge.

"i'm so sorry, mate. i thought she was the one," said christian, sympathetic look in his eyes and a friendly pat on the back. the brit had thought you were the one too, the red box hiding on his nightstand only reminiscence now of what he hadn't even had the chance to ask.

"would you marry me?"

with the way he kept slowly brushing his fingers on your naked back, you were almost asleep when mason muttered his question. "huh?". he giggled a bit at your questioning eyes, barely seen by him in the darkness of your bedroom. nuzzling his nose on the top of your head before placing a soft kiss, he explained, though his voice sounded hoarse. "hypothetically speaking. if i bought a ring, would you say yes?".

it was the first time that you two were talking about this topic. still, you had no doubts. "i'd say yes. hypothetically speaking” you clarified, like he had done before, and he only held you tighter by the waist. the way you two were resting, skin to skin, almost asleep after your sinful activities made this talk seem like a feverish illusion. “what’s that taylor swift lyric? 'i've loved you three summers now…'".

"and i want them all," finished mason. he wasn’t just completing the lyrics, but rather exteriorizing his deepest wish.

the temperature didn't drop inside his house, but suddenly mason felt cold all over. not even the hot shower he took to try and ease his aching muscles helped him with the warmth he was lacking. after all, he knew it was yours.

it would be a lie on his part to say that he didn't feel you all over after that day. he wasn't sure if this is how it was before; maybe the little things that made him remember you throughout the day felt comforting before, but now, he dreads every time you appear in his brain. and it’s even worse when he can’t do anything to stop his thoughts from going back to you.

he realizes he feels you in the most mundane things, and that was what he despised the most, not being able to get rid of anything to forget you. nothing in the material objects spelt your name: they would, probably, seem normal to anyone that dared to look at them. but they weren't mason, didn’t have his soft caramel eyes who recognised all too well what was yours. what used to be. he was the one carrying the memories of your relationship, too engraved in his mind to forget.

for example, the hydration cream he applied religiously after you had scolded him for not taking care of his skin. the delicate sheets you had insisted he needed to buy to upgrade his quality of sleep. the thousands of pillows that you needed to sleep, but now, that was just decoration to him. "baby, the only pillow i need to sleep well is you," mason had insisted.

you were all over his house, but you weren't there. 

he knows it's pointless to still dwell on it, even after all this time. he knows why you're not here anymore, and there's nothing he can do to change it. at least, that's what he thinks. it's safer that way, to not think about what could’ve been. maybe if he had been more there, if he had listened more, if he had seen the signs. for sure, you would still be here. he knows the love didn’t run out; but the distance between you two was impossible to ignore.

“i wish i would be talking only about the physical aspect of you not being here, but i'm not".

after tossing and turning, probably more times than he could count, he gave up. mason realized that sleep would definitely escape him for the night, and at these ungodly hours, he just wasn’t as strong. he didn't do what he had promised himself he wouldn't.

02:22 [mason] said: i miss you

02:22 [you] said: go to sleep, mase

02:23 [you] said: we'll talk tomorrow, yeah?