petal path

5

Because I was up to my eyeballs in finishing illustration work for a tight deadline, I hadn’t had any time to work on paths. WELL NOW I DO! YAY!

These are the first two spring tiles I’ve done since the snow melted. I’m planning to do more to match, including different stepping stones, and a little stream edged in flowers. Keep an eye out for them! 

Say not, ‘I have found the truth,’ but rather, 'I have found a truth.’ Say not, ’ I have found the path of the soul.’ Say rather, 'I have met the soul walking upon my path.’ For the soul walks upon all paths. The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed. The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.
—  Khalil Gibran

Y'all I love him so much.
Came into the house to a rose petal path and a candle lit dinner of wonderful homemade lasagna. This was taken after we’d already had dinner and dessert. He also got me a stuffed monkey plush I’m beyond happy He went so out of his way for me I’m so thankful for him

Surprise

After a long, tiring day of work, I walk into the house I share with Joe. I kick off my shoes and hang up my bag in record time. The weight of the day hasn’t hit me until right this very moment. It seems almost impossible that I’m this exhausted from one day of work. Realizing the “weekend” is officially here because Joe should be landing home in the morning, a bubble of excitement rumbles low in my belly. H

eaded towards the stairs to our room, I shrug off my dress and let my hair down, deciding that a warm shower before he gets home would do me some good. I feel something squishy under my foot. I look down and coating the steps in abundance are pink and red rose petals. The center is cleared off like a pathway. My curiosity piques and I follow the path straight to the front door of the bedroom. I push the door open and stop mid-stride, my heart literally skipping a beat. The rose petal path continues to the front of our bed. Candles are lit sporadically around the room to give the room a soft glow, along with the fairly lights decorating the tufted headboard. 

 Joe is wearing a fitted, charcoal suit. It clings to him perfectly, etching out his broad shoulders, his thick biceps, his powerful thighs… I bite my lip in reflex. Damn. Under closer inspection, I spot two flutes of champagne in his hands. Something in my brain reminds me that I have a voice and I can use it. 


 I lick my now dry lips and clear my throat. “You’re home early…” Really? That’s what you see upon seeing this gorgeous man? A dark and dangerous smile grows on his face. 

“Yes. And it seems I’m a little overdressed." 

My cheeks flush. He’s seen me naked more times than we can count, but he never fails to make me blush. At least the lacey bra and thong match. "I agree.” I drop my dress to the floor and slowly strut over to my man. “Care to do something to even the playing field?" 

 He holds he flute to my lips, urging me to take a sip. I oblige. It’s pink, sweet, and chilled to perfection. "My beautiful lady is eager tonight.” His brow lifts a fraction. I notice my tiring day is long behind me. 

I tug at his tie so that he’ll lean over and give me a taste of his lips. “It may have something to do with my incredibly handsome man being home early." 


 I take his bottom lip between my teeth, sucking gently at the plump lip and getting a hit of the champagne and his own natural taste. And God he smells divine. He sets the flutes on the dresser, not really caring for their placement and then his arms are circling my body. The velvety pads of his fingers roam freely, massaging my skin and coaxing a small moan out of me. I sometimes forget how much I miss him when he’s gone. It drives me crazy but I’m grateful he’s doing what he loves when he’s back in my arms. I curl my fingers along his shirt feeling the grooves of his torso, his hard chest, and up to his thick neck. I wrap my arms around him. I’m quickly lifted to wrap my legs around his waist. I groan in utter annoyance when his lips leave mine. When I open my eyes again, he’s gazing down at me with the boyish grin I love to death. I tilt my head. 


"What?" 

"I put in a request for a small vacation. It got approved. So I’ll be home for a little over a week." 

My mouth drops in the most unlady like fashion. "Storyline?” I ask. 

 "Yes. And for us, my beautiful lady.“ Chances like this don’t come around easily so I know better than to question it any further. I’m beyond stoked that he’s home, but annoyed that I still work. Maybe I can put in for some of my own vacation days. 

"For us. I like that.” I smile so wide my cheeks hurt. 

 With a swift lick, and then a kiss to my lips, Joe whispers, “Happy two-year anniversary, beautiful." 

My heart completely melts inside me. "Happy two-year anniversary, handsome.”

Renascent

Adjective

[ri-nas-uh nt, -ney-suh nt] 

1. being reborn; springing again into being or vigor:
     a renascent interest in Henry James.

Origin:
1720-1730; Renascent, like its linguistic cousin renaissance, can be traced to the Latin nāscī meaning “to be born.” It entered English in the mid-1700s.

“The windows were open, and the church was filled with late-spring smells, renascent dogwood and azalea–their petals littering the path to the little church–and a clean, dry breeze from the west…”
- Joe Klein, Primary Colors

New ID- Sam Winchester

Anon:

A super fluffy one where Sam Winchester proposes to you please (:


Tagging: @wickedkittycat

You walk through the bunker door back from a supply run after your boyfriend of over 2 years, Sam, decided he just could not do without a beer. Immediately you get slammed in the face with the smell of something sweet and toasty.

As you walk down the stairs, you take a look around the huge room and notice that most of the lights are off. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you step on something slightly crunchy and you look down to see rose petals.

Then it hits you; all of the lights are off and it’s the candles which are burning on almost every bookcase and surface in sight that are giving off that illuminating glow.

“What the hell is going on guys?” You say to the empty room. Looking down again, you notice that the rose petals where forming a path towards the kitchen, where soft classical rock is playing quietly.

“Dean are you trying to surprise Castiel because I’ not being jumped out on!” you say louder than before.

“Hey, Y/N, you’re home!” says Sam, whose whole face beams the moment he lays eyes on you. “Wow, you look beautiful,” he mutters to himself and walks over to kiss you.

“What’s all this?” you ask as you spot the steaks in the oven and the apple pie cooling off on top of the stove.

He smiled and pulled out a chair for you. “Well you always cook for me and Dean so I thought I’d make you something. I told him to go out so we could have some time together.”

“You cutie.” You giggle and kiss his nose softly

At one point you get suspicious, and suspect that he has broken something valuable while you were out, but that proves not to be the case.

He reaches out across the table to take your hand in his, and gently rubs his thumb over the top of yours. “The new Ids came.”

He fumbled around in his pocket and slid it across the table to you. As you opened the leather holder you read the words on the paper.

With closer inspection you see it is a picture of you, with the FBI stamp on it. To the right of the picture are two words. Y/n Winchester. Your heart is pounding faster than you’ve ever felt it pound. “S-sam…It says Winchester as the last name?”

“Yeah…we’ll erm…I was hoping you’d become Y/n Winchester.” He lifted the paper up to show a ring underneath it.

“Ohmygod, Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, Sammy, Yes!” As you yell these words you see the biggest smile plant itself onto his face. Getting up from the table and picked you up in one quick, swift motion. He spins you around the room, all the while whispering, ‘I love you,’ in your ear where only you can hear it. And you know it is only meant for you.

He slowly pushed the ring on your ring finger and kissed the back of your hand as he placed you down.

~Paris