Blossom X Buttercup Novels & Stories

Camilla scrunched her brows in contemplation, “It is the same perfume I have always used.” "Please remind me of the name again?” “Floral Extravaganza.” "Yeah, I remember now.” “Is there anything else?” Camilla asked and Ruby nodded, walking closer to her. "Yes. Just one more thing.”The seriousness oozing from Ruby's tight facial muscles was beginning to make her palms wet. “What is it?” "You need to shut down this pastry shop." "Is that supposed to be a joke?” Camilla asked calmly. She found a chair and sat down, facing Ruby directly.

She made a kiss face before shutting off the camera. I exhaled, looking up at Zac. "We're going to be good at this, right?" "That's just it," Zac grinned at me. "You're the love of my life, Bloom." - The End

I introduce them. “Oh, hello Lady Meadow.” “Hello, Sir Tate.” “He’s a handsome fellow.” “And young.” “Ladies, you should introduce yourselves,” Xander says, cutting off their discussion of my brother before it goes downhill. “I’m Blossom.” “And I’m Poppy.” “And this is Daphne, she’s shy.” “I love your lights, did my sister make them for you?” Meadow asks, feeling the magic in them. “She did!” “Don’t you love them?”

"The old stories said it only blooms when two fates cross—when something doomed still tries to live." Xavier gave a faint smile. "Sounds familiar." Blythe looked up at him, expression unreadable. "I never actually saw one before. I used to think it was just a metaphor. Something the old poets invented to make love feel tragic." "It's real," he said. "Like us." Her brow furrowed. "The scrolls said it's also called Lupinaria's Mercy. The goddess of wild ruin." Xavier tilted his head. "Why mercy?" "Because," she whispered, brushing the petals gently with the back of her knuckles, "the bloom only lives one day. Then it dies. Just enough time for someone to witness its beauty. But never to keep i

The Blossomland had been his go-to-cure for a bad day. The wide terrains and hills and plains filled with vibrant colors of flowers, dancing along with the strong breeze—the serene sound of petals and leaves rustling—the smell of the aromatic azalea and windrose flowers—the warm kiss of mid-morning sunlight—they all had used to help Kael calm his thoughts down. But this time was different. The worst thing he could’ve had imagined was happening now.

The shopkeeper told him. “How long would it take for a bouquet of saffron crocus, moon flowers, white orchids, kadupul flowers, white lilies and for filler silver dollar eucalyptus, myrtle, lemon leaf, poms and baby’s breath.” Meredith’s eyes were growing wide as she listened to Brayden’s conversation with the shopkeeper. How did he know of so many different flowers? This was a new side to him she hadn’t known. Meredith blinked a few times not hearing what the shopkeeper said in return. “Greta…”

First get the butter. Resting on her father's chest and shoulder with his arms embracing her, Rose wiggled her butt a bit and pushed out her tight rosebud, which Wiretop understood as "Lube me first." She was easy to get first one and then two butter-slicked fingers into. Wiretop was generous getting both of them buttered up nicely.

Riverbourne, Calvia. Bruce hit the rose garden at dawn—only to find a field of ash. The gardener was sweeping up nearby and looked up. "Mr. Jerkinson? You're up early." Bruce stormed over. "What the hell happened? Where are the roses?" He yanked the guy by the collar. "I was gone a few months. You torch them or something? Do you even know what those meant to Suri? What I put into them?" "Easy, sir! It wasn't us—your wife told us to clear them out. She lit the fire herself."

The pulse beneath her skin surged like electricity. A whisper tickled her ear. Not a sound. Just a pressure in her bones. Bloom. She ripped her hand back like it burned. Her phone buzzed, the vibration a violent shock in the quiet room. Jules: Still feeling it? Aria: Worse. Two more petals bloomed. It’s changing again. Jules: Meet at the market. Let’s see if anyone else’s reacting. Niko’s already there. She hesitated, then typed: Aria: On my way.

She let out a bright little giggle. "My sweet girl. Come, let me hold her," my grandfather said. I laughed and passed the bundled baby to him. Chandler leaned in closer, his face full of pride. "Of course, she's adorable. She's ours, after all." "You kid, always trying to take the credit…" Watching the two of them, I turned back to the tombstone and couldn't help smiling. The butterfly fluttered around us for a long while before it finally drifted toward the flowers on the other side.