#pictures of the flowers in my backyard

[catididnt]

The thing is trying to pick between resting, and necessary chores, and what you want to do, and just being lazy (not the same as resting - sleep is not lazy).

I know I need more rest, yet if I give up more things I want then I will only do the necessary and the resting. I tried that and it was very empty. All the necessary is daily/weekly/immediate survival.

I can shuffle the necessary about and made it into patterns to be extra efficient, so there is time for what I want as well as resting, but there’s still no time for being lazy. For just being. I gotta be extra on top of it to get it all to fit, and it really only works when I’m feeling better than normal.

It gets hard to truly rest if you’re being efficient. You got to fit your tasks to your time, and then you’ve got to equate your exhaustion level into how long it’ll take. Your math will get confused.

I want to be lazy. I want to nap with the cats because the sun is warm. I want to dance badly and sing worse when my favorite song comes on without stopping to get back to work after the first chorus. I want to play the mandolin or mess with practicing a language, or any of the little hobbies that are not prioritizes. I want to not feel time pressing against me, counting down.

I guess I want time to be a companion instead.

#I'm actually pretty bad at tracking time #my 'eat lunch already' alarm goes off at 1pm and I realize I should eat #I glance at the clock while finishing up a task and see it's an hour or two later than expected #I should spend less time on tumblr but this is where I take back lazy time #a place to be amused and skim and reblog thoughtlessly - no big decisions but neat information and pictures and nothing overwhelming #(overall at least) #also the disability thing plays into it #I have to keep everything looking together so no one will claim I can't be on my own and somehow take it away #this is kinda irrational but everyone who is committed by family says that they never expected it #but i'm ace/aro/agender and i've an invisible disability and also 'woman' who doesn't want kids and really just weird #got to stay excentric and wacky without being freaky or scary - not threat #I forgot how much that is a quiet background rule but it's come out a lot now that I've a house - a home that is mine and mine to play with #the need to appear put-together in the front yard while more happily experimenting in the backyard #appearances #not keeping up with the joneses but ensuring to blend in just enough #add garden beds to keep all the 'flowers' acceptable and pleasant #(lots of garden beds! I will get rid of the grass eventually) #anyway #I am tried of ensuring I fit in 'enough' #I would like to reclaim that time but I would also not like to lose the time that putting up with complaints would be #so it's complicated #this has been a long strange weekend

[headspace-hotel]

"Plant blindness" was coined as a term relating to the tendency to fail to notice plants in your environment, to view them as unimportant backdrop.

The tendency that concerns me the most is not this per se, but rather the inability to notice plants that comes from the inability to identify them, causing your brain to see the world in terms of "grass" surfaces, "weeds," "flowers" and "bushes" and "trees"

I can identify most wild plants I encounter on sight now—it's hard to even imagine how I lived differently.

The change is shocking. Learning to see plants was not just a matter of adding knowledge to my head, but creating totally new neural pathways. I believe my brain's capability for noticing and processing detail is profoundly increased. I can look much more closely at surfaces and objects and notice and be immediately drawn to small details.

The way I take photos is very different. When I look at outdoor photos from before I learned the plants, they are very broad and zoomed-out pictures of only the most obvious and unmissable features. It really appears like I was stumbling through the world almost blind, able to see big, obvious objects and nothing else.

And when I started learning to identify plants, oh, it was so painful, they all looked the same, and I couldn't even see the small details that set them apart! And there were no good resources or guides! I was fighting for my life!

And it's normal, that's the wild thing, most people go through life not being able to name the common plants that are all around them. This thought is scary and alien to me now, but a couple years ago I was entirely aware of my ignorance and felt no need to fix it. I didn't even know what the trees in my backyard were and I had lived here for 10 years and I wasn't troubled by it.

#plants #plant blindness #nature

[woso-dreamzzz]

Power

Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: You and Katie both know who really holds the power

It was always funny to see the two of you together, going back as far as your childhood.

Katie had always been the more tomboyish of the pair of you, always up to wrestle with the older kids or go careening down the hill on her bike. You were slower in comparison, taking your time and amusing yourself by playing clapping games or making daisy chains.

You shouldn't have worked as well as you did but it must have been fate.

When Katie moved to England, you came with her. There was never any debate about it. Wherever she went, you went.

Football was her passion and you were happy to go along for the ride. She'd found a home at Arsenal and you were more than happy to tag along.

You worked at the local florist, surrounded by flowers everyday. You had beehives at the back of the garden. Your backyard was picture perfect and you grew your own fruits and vegetables.

No one expected someone like you to be engaged to someone like Katie.

"Mate," Leah said as she relaxed back in her seat," Your girl's a dream. I mean, what can't she do?"

Katie tilted her head back so she could peer into the kitchen where you were sectioning out the cake you'd made earlier.

It wasn't often that you two hosted bonding nights but, when you did, everyone came along. Your Pa was a chef so you'd picked up a few things along the way.

Your meals were the stuff of legend between the Arsenal team, with the experience being passed down from older teammates to younger ones as they all sat waiting for the invitation.

"Nothing," Katie replied as you momentarily got distracted by rearranging the bouquet that lived on the windowsill.

"You hit the jackpot," Jen said," I mean, I don't know how you control yourself. If I had a girl like that to come home to everyday, I'd never leave the bed."

"Hey!" Katie said, shoving her friend," She's my fiancée! Not yours!"

Jen laughed, tipping her head back. "I'm just saying! Come on, Katie, you can't say that you've never considered just skipping practice."

Katie winked. "I never said that. I just said to stop fantasising about my girl!"

"So you would stay in bed with her all the time?" Leah teased.

Katie smirked. "You know I would but you know," She shrugged," One of us has to be the breadwinner." She flexed jokingly. "I make enough that she could be my pretty housewife if she really wanted to."

"Real macho, McCabe," Leah said," You're forgetting we once saw you drop a weight on your foot. You're not that smooth."

"I think y/n would disagree with you there." Katie winked. "I'm super smooth. It's why she fell in love with me."

"She fell in love with you because you seduced her, I reckon. All this power is going to your head. Occasional Arsenal captain, Ireland captain and now you're saying you're the man of the house."

"I'm absolutely saying that." Katie flexed again. "I mean, check out these muscles."

"Alright," Jen laughed," Put those guns away before you take someone's eye out."

Admittedly, Katie knew she was talking like she was some kind of hormonal uni boy but she couldn't help herself. She was completely relaxed here, in her own home with her teammates scattered around and you serving everyone cake. She was definitely bigging herself up here but she didn't want to lose face in front of her friends, especially as you breezed back into the room with pre-sliced cake and a pile of plates.

"I hope you're all able to eat this," You said," I know you're meant to be on diets but, surely, you can cheat for the day."

Katie grinned, drunk on the feeling of puffed up pride at everyone's compliments about you. She stood and rested her hand a little too low on your ass to be decent in public.

"Course we can, babe," She said, emboldened by the way you didn't say anything as she squeezed lightly," Everyone loves your baking."

You sent her an unreadable look but allowed her touching, helping everyone get a slice before settling on her lap in the loveseat.

Katie smirked at Jen and Leah, who were sending her similar cocky looks, and she finally moved her hand from your ass to rest splayed out on your hip, dragging you ever closer.

You fed Katie bites of your own slice automatically as she sat manspread on the loveseat, still talking amongst her teammates.

When there was a lull in the conversation, you brought your lips to her ear.

"Vey macho, Katie," You said, watching her throat bob in horror when she realised that you had heard everything," A real man of the house."

"Babe," She murmured back, eyes darting back and forth between everyone to make sure none of them were looking," I-"

"I'm not going to say anything," You said, shutting her up by pressing another forkful of cake into her mouth," I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all of the new signings."

"Babe," She said again, shifting a bit uncomfortably as you put more food into her mouth.

"Shh," You said softly," Don't talk just yet." You leaned a bit closer, putting the plate down on your lap so you had a hand free to push Katie's hand to grip your hip harder. "You have your fun showing off for your friends. You do whatever you want but let me make this clear. If you have to be reminded who's really in charge here then I will make sure to remind you. Understand?"

"I understand."

"Good." You smiled and drew away, picking up the plate and nudging Katie's lips with a cake filled fork again. "Open up, baby. I spent a lot of time on this. Make sure to eat your fill."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: VII

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

The next morning as Simon lay in bed, he clicked on the link you texted him about the adoption website. Navigating to the section for dogs, he was surprised to find only one listing – the last puppy up for adoption.

It was a male German Shepherd puppy, approximately two months old. Knowing the pup was too young for K-9 training, Simon decided that having a companion at home would be comforting until then. Quickly filling out the online form, within ten minutes, the puppy was officially Simon's.

The shelter informed him that his new furry friend would be ready for pick-up at noon. Simon went about his morning routine, enjoying breakfast and engaging in a rigorous workout until it was time to pick him up.

Leaving the shelter, Simon stared at the small canine now occupying the passenger seat. The puppy looked up at him with big brown eyes, tilting its head to the side. Simon reached over and noticed the collar was blank.

“No name, huh?” he mused, and the puppy yawned in response.

"Like a little ghost," Simon remarked, and the puppy turned its head, seemingly considering the suggestion.

"Should your name be Ghost, hmm? Well, that might be a bit confusing on base." The puppy whined and laid down in the seat. 

"Ghost Jr.?" The puppy didn't seem convinced, and Simon nodded, "Yeah, it doesn't have the same ring to it."

Simon reached for his phone and snapped a picture of the puppy, deciding to seek suggestions for a name from the team by sending it to the group chat Johnny had created.

Ghost: Name recs?

Johnny: Bartholomew

Captain: Bloody hell, Soap...

Johnny: What about Ghost Jr.? He has your eyes, L.t.

Gaz: Doesn’t really have a ring to it, mate.

Ghost: Thought so too.

Captain: That little pup does look like a Riley.

Ghost looked at the message and back at the puppy.

“What do you think of the name Riley?” The puppy stood up and started walking over to Simon, nestling himself in his lap before closing his eyes.

“Okay, Riley, I gotta drive, mate; you can't sleep there.” Simon picked him up and placed him back on the passenger seat, but Riley got up and made his way back into his lap.

“Bloody hell. Fine, just don’t move around or I’ll crash.”

Simon picked up a few things for him on the way home and set up a corner of the living room for him. After finishing, he sat down on the couch and took a few different pictures of Riley, sending them to you.

When Simon's name lit up on your phone, you eagerly grabbed it, swiping it open to reveal his notification. Your mouth dropped at the sight of the adorable puppy.

Y/n: WOW, you actually adopted him!? He’s so cute!! Did you decide on a name?

Simon: Riley.

He sent another picture of Riley, the puppy looking down at the camera, lifting his paw up, and you nearly melted.

Y/n: Riley is such a cute name for him. Have you bought him any clothes or toys?

Simon smiled as his eyes read over the message. So, you think his last name is cute, huh?

Simon: Riley is my last name.

Simon: Clothes? Dogs need clothes?

Y/n: Oh, I didn’t know that. The name suits him. He’s like a mini you :)

Y/n: They don’t need clothes, but it makes them look really cute. He might need little shoes since it’s getting colder.

Both you and Simon found yourselves smiling at your phones as you texted back and forth. The conversation shifted, and you asked him about his day. You even sent him a picture of your cat Missy, to which he replied.

Simon: She looks hateful.

Y/n: No, she doesn’t! She looks cute.

Throughout the day, you and Simon exchanged a few pictures. Simon shared more photos of Riley, curled up next to him while watching a movie. In return, you sent a picture of yourself in your garden, busy planting new flowers.

This led to Simon asking more about your garden, and you gladly shared details about your favorite plants and flowers. You took him on a virtual photo tour of your backyard, showcasing a thriving fruits and vegetables garden. 

Simon: What type of stuff you growin?

Y/n: Some onion, garlic, potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, zucchini, carrots, and some others I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Y/n: I even have a cute little apple tree! 

You snapped a picture of Missy sunbathing next to your basket full of produce. Simon smiled at the stretched-out cat, leaning over to show Riley the picture.

“You fond of cats?” Riley started nibbling on the hem of Simon's jacket.

The following day, in the afternoon, you found yourself finishing the batch of apple strudels you had baked, only to realize you had made too much. A sigh escaped you as you surveyed the pan filled with the pastries and glanced at the abundance of produce you had harvested the day before. The realization hit that, being just one person, much of it would go to waste before you could use it all.

You decided to put some of the strudels into a container. Grabbing an extra basket, you carefully arranged half of the vegetables you had picked yesterday.

I'm sure Simon wouldn’t mind a free delivery?

With a small basket and container in hand, you made your way up his driveway and rang the doorbell. Simon peeked through the peephole and cursed when he saw you on the other side.

“Just a second.”

He quickly retreated to his bedroom, donning sweatpants and a hoodie before returning to the door, opening it.

“Hi, sorry to bother you so randomly in the day. I just wanted to drop these off since I had extra.” Simon looked down at the basket in your hands, and then his gaze went to you. He was about to thank you when Riley went between his legs, walking to you. Your eyes grew wide, and you put the basket down on the ground.

“Hi Riley, aw, look at how cute you are.” Simon smiled down at you, loving the way his last name sounded when you said it. Riley was licking your face, and you laughed.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude if you're busy.”

“Wasn’t doing much before you came.” 

Simon had been lying in bed, watching a Gordon Ramsey cooking video in nothing but his briefs.

“Okay,” you smiled up at him, and he reached over, grabbing the basket you brought. You picked up Riley, and both of you walked inside. 

Simon's living room bore witness to his minimalistic approach to decor, featuring only a couch, a TV, and a coffee table. As you stood in his living room, the blank walls and empty space caught your attention.

“Sorry love, don’t really know how to decorate.” You laughed, placing Riley down.

“There’s actually a Ross not too far from here. Maybe you could get a lamp… or two. Maybe a painting?” You glanced around, noticing the absence of a dining table or any items on the counters in the kitchen.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this house was for sale.” Simon laughed, placing the basket you brought on the counter.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of a Ross.” You turned to face him, eyes wide, “You're joking, right?”

“Dead serious, love.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the Ross building. “You're telling me you’ve never been inside one of these?”

Simon shook his head again. What was the big deal about this store?

"They have everything in this store! Furniture, clothes, skincare, shoes, purses, home decor, even some spices and snacks, but I wouldn’t trust it. You have to go, Simon! They even have clothes and toys for dogs.” Glancing at the time, Simon looked back at you.

“You have anywhere to be right now?”

“No, I don’t really have things planned on the weekends besides spending time with Missy.”

“You think she’d mind if you were gone for a few hours.” Your smile grew as you caught on to what he was hinting at.

“No.”

Simon placed Riley in the large cage he had bought, and the drive to Ross took only around five minutes. The short trip to the store became a chance for Simon to discover more about your interests and preferences for small talk of course, not that he wanted to know more about you, of course not.

As you walked into Ross, you rambled on about various pieces of furniture and decor, grabbing a cart and leading Simon towards the furniture section. Simon's eyes widened as he checked the price tag for a nightstand.

“Are these things broken or chipped? Why are they so bloody cheap?”

You laughed as Simon added the nightstand to his cart. Navigating through the store, you selected a stylish black lamp, and Simon followed suit, placing it in his cart. Moving on to the decor aisle, you looked at various candles, allowing Simon to sample a few before he settled on one with a pine scent. 

You continued adding small decor items for Simon's coffee table – throw pillows, throw blankets, a rug, a bookshelf, minimalist frames, place mats, and even a skull wax warmer with some clean linen scented melts. Your choices filled the cart with a mix of stylish and cozy additions for Simon's home.

In the kitchen aisle, you insisted on essential items – a fruit basket, organizers for his pantry and fridge, additional pots and pans, and more cooking utensils. Simon, who only owned one pan and one of each silverware, recognized the practicality in your suggestions.

In another aisle, he saw you looking at a cat mug before putting it back and wandering into another section. He quickly grabbed the mug and placed it at the bottom of his cart before making his way to you.

“You ready, love?” You hid something behind your back and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll meet you up front. I just need to look at something real quick.”

You found yourself in the doggy section of the pet aisle, examining various toys and outfits for Riley. Noticing he only had one rope chew toy, you felt compelled to get him more. You selected a little squeaky bone chew toy, a tuxedo, a sweater, and some adorable little shoes – perhaps a size too big, but too cute to resist. To complete the ensemble, you even chose a fluffy bed for him to sleep on.

Doubt crept in – was this too much? Should you put something back? Would Simon find it odd? Shaking off the uncertainty, you shrugged and placed everything in your cart. As you made your way to the registers, you spotted a clearance aisle filled with past holiday-themed items. A cute black and white skull mug caught your eye, and you picked it up.

He asked you to draw skulls on his bookmark, and he really liked the skull wax warmer. I’m sure he’d like this.

 Placing it in your cart, you walked to the registers. Meeting Simon at the front after both of you finished paying, you helped him carry his bags to the car while he handled the nightstand.

When you returned to Simon's house, you dove into helping him unpack everything in the living room. You organized items, rearranged furniture, and experimented with different placements until the layout felt just right.

While you were busy making his home feel cozier, Simon had taken charge in the kitchen, using the ingredients you brought to prepare a meal. He made oven-roasted vegetables and steak, with guidance from a Gordon Ramsey video. Pulling the newly purchased mug from the Ross bag, he washed it and filled it with ice water.

Unbeknownst to Simon, you had stationed yourself on the floor behind the couch, secretly dressing Riley in a little tuxedo. Just as you finished putting on his tiny pants, Simon walked over with two plates, setting them down on the coffee table. Trying to conceal Riley, you quickly grabbed some black kids' sunglasses from the bag and placed them on Riley before picking him up and showing Simon.

“He looks like the dog from the bookmark! I couldn’t find a toy assault rifle, though.” Simon paused for a few seconds, looking at Riley and you holding him up with a big smile. He laughed and picked Riley up, your hands brushing against each other for a moment.

Simon couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat, feeling your hand against his. A foreign sensation of touch, yet Simon found himself yearning for his hand to linger against yours a few seconds longer.

“I have to show the boys this.” Simon laughed, handing Riley back to you so you could hold him up. He took a picture from the side, excluding you, but the moment he sent it, the boys bombarded his phone with questions, asking if those were your hands and if you two were on a date.

“I also got him another outfit, it’s this sweater and some little shoes for when you take him outside when it starts snowing.” Simon smiled as you gestured towards the other outfit laid out on the couch.

“Thank you, love, for spending your money on him. You really didn’t have to.” You smiled and got up, sitting on the couch.

“It’s no problem at all. I wanted to see him dressed up.”

“He’s definitely going to be a ladies' man at the dog park now.” You laughed, finally noticing the two plates on the coffee table.

“Oh! Is this for me?” Simon walked over to the kitchen, bringing your new mug. “No, it’s actually for Riley.” He approached you with a grin and placed the mug down on the table in front of you.

Your eyes grew wide upon seeing it. “Oh my god! I was thinking about getting this mug at Ross!”

“It’s yours, love, and I cooked dinner for us as a thank you for spending your day helping me spruce up my place and for sharing your garden with me.” You smiled, looking at the delicious meal in front of you. Simon had used the potatoes, carrots, and everything you gave him. The aroma filled the air, and you realized how hungry you were. Almost forgetting the mug you had bought him, you dug through the bag and pulled it out.

“I almost forgot. I actually got you a mug.” When you handed it to him, he smiled, looking at the little skulls.

“You know me so well.” You smiled up at him, and the moment lingered for a few seconds before Riley tried to jump on the coffee table to get to the food.

Simon put on a movie, and both of you enjoyed dinner together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and sipping from the cups you had bought for each other. After finishing, you insisted on washing the dishes he used to cook, despite his multiple offers to handle it. You expressed gratitude for his effort in cooking, considering the least you could do was tackle the dishes.

Once done, you both indulged in an apple strudel, using the moment to learn more about Simon—his favorite color, a few favorite foods, little details that brought you closer. As the night grew late, you decided it was time to head back home.

“I should really head back home; it’s late.” Despite spending the day with you, Simon felt a twinge of disappointment at your leaving.

“Let me grab my keys; I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, are you sure? I mean, I only live a few houses down.”

“I insist; it’s dark out. You only live a few houses down anyway; it’s no bother.”

Strapping Riley to a leash, the three of you walked to your house. You pointed out various flowers and plants around your front door, and Simon mentally noted them down, remembering the ones you said you didn't have.

“I had a lot of fun today, and thank you again for cooking and for the mug.” Simon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket while Riley sniffed around your flowers.

“I should be the one thanking you; my house doesn't look like a prison cell anymore.” You laughed and lightly shook your head. “Maybe next time you could come over, and I could show you how to grow a thing or two. You could meet Missy.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” You smiled and kneeled down to say goodbye to Riley.

“I’ll talk to you later, goodnight Simon.” You grabbed the keys from your pocket and unlocked your door.

“Goodnight, love.”

When you closed the door behind you, Riley let out a low whine. Simon turned and began walking away.

“I know, Riley. I feel the same way.”

#call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #writers #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon x reader #simon riley #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost fanfiction

[kimberly-spirits13]

Moving In

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: None

Summary: a short Drabble on you convincing Jason to move in with you

Word Count: 963

Your house was a haven for Jason. It was somewhere where he could lay down and forget all his troubles or simply sit in silence and not be overwhelmed by the life outside of your front doors. Despite the occasional complaints he hears from you about the woes of homeowning, he sees no flaw in your home. You were well off from your job, able to buy a nice home in the same area that Wayne Manor sat. It wasn’t intentional, you had been living in this home before you knew Jason, and through the years you had completed various renovations and upgrades to make it reflect you. There was a garden in the backyard filled with your favorite flowers, a sizeable kitchen where Jason likes to spend most of his time, sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows, and a few additional rooms catered to your interests were settled between the walls of the home. Convincing Jason to move in was not a hard thing to do. He hated living in an apartment and hearing his neighbors talk or walk around in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep. You and Jason also found that it was a hazard climbing into the windows during the waking hours of dawn after patrol. A few close calls meant that most of the time when you were out on patrol, you two went back to your place to crash. It’s easy to say that he was delighted when you offered to let him move in after a long week of patrols gone south. 

         “You know, you should ditch the apartment, Jay.” You were laying on top of his chest, legs sprawled out over his and blankets nearly covering your face.

         “Whatcha mean Doll?” He stopped combing his fingers through your hair and started twisting small loops into it with his fingers.

         “Come live with me. You always talk about hating living in the city anyways and you sleep better there.” 

         “It would make patrols easier.” He commented, “You’re not delirious right, you’d actually want me to live at your place?” There was a tone of insecurity in his voice like at any moment you’d tell him you were joking.

         “I am not delirious Jason.” You sat up and looked at him, “I have plenty of empty room that needs you to fill it.” “There’s plenty of room for your books in the library and you practically already live there. I’m pretty sure more than 60% of your things are already somewhere in the house.” “You could literally move in right now.” 

         “I would love to live with you.” He said smiling, “but I think we’d need to, you know, make sure everything is taken care of before I move out. My lease ends in a week and I’d need to pack everything up” 

         “We can get boxes tomorrow.” You said, “You can just start leaving things for the next week, plus, you don’t have to stay in the apartment even if your lease isn’t over.”

         That was exactly a week ago and Jason was ready to move into your place. He pulled into the space in your garage that was meant for him with boxes loaded in the back of his car. There weren’t many boxes in his trunk, but he had a few odds and ends that he couldn’t send to Goodwill or throwing away. Most of the contents of the boxes were his books, some old mugs and pictures, the clothes that weren’t already in your house, hygiene stuff from his place, and other knickknacks he had around. After a few seconds of collecting his thoughts, he looked up to see you coming into the garage from the side door into your house with a smile.

         You took his hand as he got out of the car and shut the door to walk to the trunk and start unloading. Taking a few boxes at a time, the two of you gradually unloaded everything and put it into the room connecting to the garage. It wasn’t going to take a long time for you two to unload everything, the most daunting thing to Jason was permanently invading your space. Taking the box filled with mugs, you opened the cabinet in the kitchen that kept all the mugs and started carefully putting them in like they were meant to be there. 

         “Hey doll, do you have a place you want all of this?” He asked timidly.        

         Usually moving in somewhere wasn’t a problem for him and he knew where everything was meant. He knew that you didn’t mind and just wanted him to be comfortable, but at the same time, Jason was afraid he would mess something up, make you regret letting him live with you.

         “You know you can put stuff wherever. I mean obviously shampoo and conditioner belong in the bathroom and dishes in the kitchen but Jay, this is your home, I don’t mind.” You said comfortably.

         Jason felt his heart swell at your words. This was his house now. You might have been there first, but you were telling him that this was allowed to be his home. Everything was perfect, nothing was popping Jason’s bubble now. 

         He set his stuff down and watched as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. In a moment of silence, he ran his fingers through your hair and put his chin on the top of your head.

         “I’m glad you’re here now.” You said softly, “I hated when you had to leave.”          Jason held onto you tighter and lifted your chin with his finger, “I love you y/n/n. You’ve given me the best life I could have ever lived.”

         “I love you too Jay.” 

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fluff #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine

[spacebaby1]

MY BEAUTIFUL SON (PART 2) (Gojo Satoru × Mom!Reader Ft: Megumi)

"Gumi, come here," he ran towards you jumping in your arms, your four years old was already impatient to run around in the huge backyard and play.

"Ahu, he can't stop running?" Gojo chuckled walking towards both of you and ruffling Megumi's black hair, your son groaned but giggled followed when his father messed his already messy hair, "Don't do that to his beautiful hair," you fixed Megumi's hair; to no use it kept standing up like it was since he was a baby. "Ya, my strongest boy." Gojo gently pinched his son's cheeks. You slapped his hand away, "Don't hurt my precious little boy," you pouted, earning a pout from Megumi as he laid his head on your chest.

A hand on your shoulder made you flinch awake to look around; you were in Megumi's bed. You turned towards the person who woke you up, Gojo's mother, "you need to eat something, the guests are gone." You shook your head still holding Megumi's uniform shirt in other hand, "I am not hungry, Ma." She sat on the bed beside you and gently took your empty hand in hers, "My Dear, there aren't enough words to console a child's loss. Megumi was-"

"Please don't say was, don't talk about him like h-he like h-h-he's g-gone," your breathing hitched as you tried to speak in a low voice, you looked at her with puffy tearful eyes, "I want to hold my son in my arms again, I just need to see him smile, i-i-i would give my life for him, why not me? Why him? He's a kid-?" You burst into painful cries. Gojo's mother hugged you, gently caressing your hair, "I want my son back, please."

Gojo's mother insisted she stays with you but you told her that you need to be alone and she can go home since she's probably tired, you entered the living-room and sat beside the wall staring at the picture of Megumi with all the flowers around it; he loved flowers so much even though no one knew that about him, your silence was cut short when someone entered the living-room at first you thought it was Gojo but it was Yuji and Nobara; they still haven't left even if it was already ten at night, in all honesty they were scared to leave you alone.

"You didn't go home? It's late" you spoke barley a whisper, you cried your voice out. They both sat beside you on either side, "we didn't want to leave you a-alone," Nobara spoke and you could tell she was fighting back tears from the way she spoke. "Can we stay a little longer, please?" You know they won't leave even if you told them so you nodded and sat there in silence, Nobara was sobbing at this point trying hard to not be loud with her sobs; the kids were tired as much as you were if not more.

Nobara laid her head on your lap, sobbing on your skirt. You tapped gentle hand on her shoulder while Yuji leaned his head on your shoulder crying, and you placed your other arm around his head; letting both kids cry on you. They too missed Megumi and loved him dearly. "Shh, don't cry, you are strong Nobara and Yuji you are my strong boy; don't Cry or Megumi will be angry at both of you." You tried to chuckle but that made them cry even more.

Yuji hugged your side and cried hard, "I am sorry Auntie that I wasn't strong enough to save Megumi, please forgive me-"

Nobara sobbed hugging your lap "I am sorry I wasn’t there, forgive me Auntie."

"Hussh! None of that! Don't you dare think it's either of your fault, don't say those things ever again." You spoke trying hard to not cry yourself, "I could never blame any of you, don't break my heart with such words." They both cried themselves to sleep on your lap that night, Carefully you got up trying to not wake them up, leaving the living-room you saw Satoru sleeping on the doorsteps of the living-room; he was here the whole time and didn't leave your side just too scared to come near you and that you will push him away like you did earlier; you tried to tell yourself that it wasn't fair and he lost a son to but who's plan was it in first place to take Megumi in the fight?

You walked past him and went to your room and brought extra pillow and blankets for the kids; you came back and carefully placed pillow under their heads and blanket on them so they won't get cold; you placed a blanket on Gojo too; you weren't that heartless, just in pain.

Sleep didn't come easy to you and the night felt long just staring at the picture made your heart numb, your phone buzzed and you avoided it but it kept buzzing nonstop, without taking your eyes of the picture you answered the call, "Hello?" Your voice low and full of exhaustion. You were expecting it to be Gojo's mother or one of your friends, but the voice on the other side made your heart stop for a minute when you heard a low answer, "Mama? Where are you?" Your eyes widened and hands shaking in confusion, unable to think if this was a dream or reality. Were you dreaming again? You held the phone with both hands now trying to stop your hands from shaking, "G-Gumi? Megumi? Baby? Is that you?" There was a shuffle, and this time it wasn't Megumi. It was another voice you recognised well, "Y/n? It's shoko, come down to hospital now, I called Satoru but he's - "

"S-Sh-Shoko was th-that, I-" you got up hurried out of the room almost tripping over your feet when you shook Gojo to wake up him up and immediately he jumped awake noticing your shaking figure infront of him with your phone in your hand, "Sa-Satoru tak- the the the hospital-Shoko, she she i- Gumi I he-heard hi-Megumi, my, ou-" you could barely breath let alone speak and it was terrifying Satoru as he held you gently, "Hey, calm down, shh, Hey," he brushed your hair off your face, "Breath darling, Breath-" you shoved the phone in his hand and he finally noticed it was on call, "hello? Shoko?" You noticed how his tired eyes widened, "W-we'll be the- Come on, Darling, are you okay? Breath," he shut the phone before helping you stand and you urged him to walk. He glanced inside the living-room; the kids were asleep, he grabbed your hand and ran out of the door barely able to process what Shoko just told him over the call.

You were shaking in the passenger seat as Satoru drove insanely, luckily there weren't many cars at two in the morning, Satoru could hear your loud hitched breathing. The ten minutes drive to the hospital felt like hours until Satoru parked the car in the most uncommon way before getting out and help you out as you both literally ran inside the hospital to where Shoko was.

You got closer to the door and felt your legs go numb breathing heavily you pushed the doors open and felt your heart stop for a minute. There stood Shoko beside your son; he sat on the table dressed in hospital gown; your Megumi, your son was sitting infront of you looking absolutely exhausted, his eyes were barely open, you felt as if you will just wake up and it will all be a dream but you kept walking with heavy steps feeling your legs numbing with each step but that feeling stopped when Megumi smiled at the sight of you and you ran to gather him in your arms.

"Gumi, oh my boy, why did you leave? Why did you make your Mama cry?" You cried holding him closer, Megumi knew that the deal he made with Sukuna whatever it was, it was worth it because he was back in his mother's arms, "Oh my child, My beautiful boy, you scared me." He hugged you tight, "I'm so sorry Mama, I would never do it ag-"

"OF COURSE THERE WILL BE NO AGAIN!" You pulled away and looked at him, he smiled weak at you and you planted kisses all over his face, forehead, and hair over and over the hugging him, "I was so scared Mama, I w-was so sac-"

"Shhh, you're here with me, Mama is here," Megumi couldn't shake the fear and the darkness that he felt for the last few hours. Is this how it feels to die?

Megumi looked behind you as he lifted his head from your shoulder, he saw his father standing there, eyes coverd in tears not saying a word, he had the look of guilt, fear and relief in his eyes all together, "D-Dad," Megumi called causing you to gently to pull away from Megumi to turn and look at Gojo.

Gojo sobbed worse than Yuji and Nobara when he took Megumi in his embrace, "Gezz old man, don't remember seeing you cry like that before" Megumi joked hugging his father back resting his head on his chest, "I'm sorry Gumi, my boy, I am so sorry I am an idiot an absolute useless of a father and I'm so sorry I let that happen to you, oh God. I am sorry please forgive me, I should've known better, I should've never let you near that damn school that damn life. I'm so proud of you, I love you and I would die for you in a heartbeat if you tell me to do that right now. Gumi! Please don't you ever leave me again like that, I will die without you, don't do that to your Mama, I don't want to see her in pain like that ever again."

Megumi held on Satoru's jacket and cried, he never seen his father upset let alone sob like that; it broke his heart to see his father like that. "It was my fault, all mine, I should've left when you told me to, I would never disobey your words Dad, I was so sacred."

"You went there on your own?" You asked in a whisper and Megumi nodded looking at you still holding on his father, "D-Dad told me to leave again and again b-but I wanted to help, I-I couldn't leave Dad alone, I'm sorry." All this time and everything you said to Satoru and not once he said that he wasn't the reason Megumi was gone; even when he's son wasn't there Satoru refused to rat him out on you, this made you remember all the times Gojo took the blame from things Megumi did; especially accidentally breaking things.

Gojo pulled away letting Megumi reach for you and hugging you, "You'll never ever, ever do a thing like that ever again, I can't lose you again, Megumi, I can't." Shoko had gathered some clothes for Megumi to change before she went away after you talked for a while; she too had a long day. Few minutes later Megumi got out and immediately hugged your side as the three of you walked to your car.

"Mama, can you stay with me here? Please?" Megumi asked as you helped him to backseat, you looked at Gojo and he nodded before closing the door when you got in beside him, he immediately nuzzled into you; it was clear that Megumi was still scared. Gojo took of his jacket and placed it over Megumi before getting in the drivers seat and starting the car, you swear that you saw a faint black line on Megumi's arm that disappeared as the moment it showed up as you were holding his hand and he had his head nuzzled on your shoulder. Satoru made sure to drive carefully this time.

You really didn't want to wake Megumi up when you reached home, so you sat there in the car for few minutes before Satoru turned to you and nodded, carefully you woke Megumi up, "Sweetie, we are home," he blinked nodding as he got up.

Megumi was holding onto you as he walked still limping a bit and few faint bruises on his face that were still there, Gojo races to open the door but it was flung open, "MEGUMI!" Both Yuji and Nobara pushed Gojo away and jumped to hug Megumi earning a grunt from him as they both lunched on him crying their eyes out. Shoko had texted Yuji when he woke up to find both of you gone and she told him everything.

"WHERE DID YOU GO?" Nobara sobbed

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE US?" Yuji cried.

"WE ARE SO SORRY MEGUMI!" They both cried. Megumi hugged them both even though he wasn't able to move a lot, "WE LOVE YOU, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE US, MEGUMI." Nobara cried causing Megumi to chuckle, "I'm Home, don't cry you two silly, I won't go anywhere." You hardly were able to help him walk since Nobara and Yuji refused to left go of Megumi as he walked; they basically held him inside and he stopped when he saw his picture covered with flowers in the living-room; people came for him?

"I'll remove that in the morning," Satoru placed a gentle hand on Megumi's hair, "you need to rest now, okay?" He nodded when Nobara and Yuji walked him to his room as you followed behind. When the kids were gone you grabbed Satoru by the hand and walked inside the living-room shuting the door behind you, and you slapped his shoulder causing him to jump in confusion and you slapped his shoulder again and again, "W-what did I do?" He asked, confused. "Why didn't you tell me? Why? Why didn't you tell me that you told "Megumi to leave"? Huh? Why did you not tell me the truth?" You asked, trying to keep your voice low, and it cracked when you asked him, "Why did you let me say all those things to you, Satoru?" You grabbed his jackets collar, "I was so mean to you, I screamed at you, said horrible things to you," your hand let go of his collar and now rested on his face as he sat on the couch arm looking at you, "I would never want to blame our son, never." You hugged him to your chest, "I am sorry I said such horrible things to you. Please forgive me-"

"Darling, I love you." He kissed your hand and you smiled with tears in your eyes, "I love you, you idiot." He chuckled, playing with your finger he spoke, "Let's go, leave this place, somewhere far away, I am done being the strongest, I am done sacrificing my life and I los-i almost lost our son for nothing, let's go, okay?" You nodded hugging him, "Yes. Satoru, we'll leave as far as we can. I just want to be with my two beautiful boys." You kissed his hair before resting you cheek on his head.

Megumi was sitting in the middle of his bed while Yuji and Nobara had their arms wrapped all over him on his either side; he seemed so unbothered with their actions; instead he had his arms wrapped around them both as they spoke to him.

Even when they wanted to stay awake it was already early morning and Nobara was half asleep on Megumi; still not letting go of him, "Ha, Yuji you should sleep and we should let Nobara sleep too, she can barely keep her eyes open." He gently tapped her head to which she shook her head groaning, "N-No, we can stay awake," Yuji got up and helped Nobara up as you and Satoru got their futon in Megumi's room because he asked you too and they were for sure not leaving him anytime soon, "Yeah, you need to sleep and we should let Megumi rest." You Told Nobara to which she nodded before getting on her futon and you placed her blanket on. Yuji came round to hug Megumi one last time before going to his bed, you came and sat beside Megumi's bedside, "you okay?" You brushed his hair to side and he nodded, "I'm just happy to be home,Mama." You kissed his forehead, "I'm happy you are home, sleep well sweetheart. Call for us if you need anything, okay sweetheart?" He nodded before he got under the covers and with the the three of them were fast asleep.

Every move, every word made Sukuna fum with anger. How could you be so nice? How can a mother be this sweet? Megumi was too tired to feel it when Sukuna took over, and got up making his way towards the living-room, he sat down and scoffed at all the flowers that were placed for Megumi, Sukuna knew that people in his village probably celebrated when he was killed and sealed away.

You were fast asleep when you opened your eyes to find Megumi making his way to the living-room so you got up looking at the clock it was still four in the morning and pretty dark outside. The lights were off in the living-room but you could make up that Megumi was sitting on the floor in front of his picture; unaware that it wasn't your son but the king of curse himself; Sukuna. He saw you made your way beside him and gently resting your hand on his head before sitting beside him, "couldn't sleep?" You asked looking ahead just like him, he didn't dare to speak but just shook his head, you hummed motioning for him to rest his head on your lap; he turned his face to look at you and you did the same but luckily for him, you couldn't see much in dark. Your eyesight problems prevents you from seeing anything in dark even the dark marks on your Son's face that belonged to Sukuna but he saw your gentle smile and without thinking he placed his head on your lap, as if it was Megumi's body reacting on your words; after all you were his mother.

You gently soothed his hair, and hummed a song then you softly spoke, "From the moment you were born, you became the sunshine in my life I was so happy when I found out I'm gonna have a baby, from the moment they put you in my arms, it became my life's work to keep you from harm," you chuckled, "you were so little and I was scared that a harm will come to you but you are strong just like your dad and even more, don't tell him I said that. I never had much in my life, never had the love of a parent in my life, you changed that but I wanted to give you all my love, I never want anything to happen to you, and I know you're grown now, but my heart doesn't realize that. In my heart, you will always be my sweet baby boy, my sweet boy. I want you to know how proud I am of you and how much you mean to me, You are the best gift I've ever received. God blessed me with you, and I would want to be your Mama in every lifetime." You leaned down and kissed the top of Megumi's head, but Sukuna was the one who reserved it. He blinked when he realised that he had tears rolling down his eyes. Why was he crying? Is it because his parents never wanted him in the first place because he was a monster? He wanted to snap your neck then and there; he knew that was a lie. You were a perfect mother that he didn't have.

"...Ma," he whispered and you soothed his hair, "yes, Darling?" You answered to which he shook his head and just snuggled to you as you hummed to him till he fell asleep, slowly the dark lines faded away from Megumi's face as he slept.

#jujutsu kaisen #angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk megumi #megumi angst #child megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #gojo satoru angst #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #dad Satoru #reader is megumi's mother #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #Sukuna Megumi vessel

[southernsolarpunk]

Currently in progress: building garden beds for free! (Aside from the cost of an axe & hatchet) I really had my heart set on raised garden beds but ultimately it would be too expensive to get the supplies right now, and we need to thin out the trees in our backyard. (Lots of skinny trees in high density) the previous owners left all those plant pots and grow bags in the picture, my son likes to play with them for now. :) (soon they will house my peppers!)

The sun stays on the left side of the yard, and luckily that’s where the highest density trees are, so once we cut them down it’ll open up the canopy and let in more light. I’ll have to get some topsoil though, the soil here is compacted as fuck!! (Seriously, I’ve never seen soil so compacted) where it looks like a bush behind the beds ( it’s trees we cut down) there’s a natural dip in the ground about 1-2 ft and I’m planning to put a wildlife pond there using a no-liner method.

Most of the light green growing in this picture is Chinese privet I haven’t yet cut down :/ and now I can see alllllll the poison oak that’s popping up :))))))) (I’m very allergic)

…

Front yard!

I got a packet of wildflower seeds and they’re just starting to pop up so I took a picture to compare to when they are more/fully grown! I also got some moss phlox (native) and snapdragons (favorite flower).

#garden update #gardening #solarpunk #solarpunk in action #yes it’s a mobile home I live in the south

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Stable Girl!Joel and Sunshine

Joel trying to take care of her pregnancy cravings and needs. Massages, carrying her to see how the horses are doing, I googled how to make oatmilk ice cream and it could be doable, just need like butter or cashews to make it creamy ♥️♥️ I like the idea of Joel being taught how to do it by hand♥️ just for her!

Ah Strawberry ice cream?!

Love Language

pairing: The Stable Girl-Verse!joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

rating: F (talks of pregnancy/symptoms, joel is perfect)

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHH this SENT me anon 😭 the strawberrrriesssssss 😭

the stable girl masterlist | joel masterlist

“Again?” Joel’s voice sounded from behind you as you sat at the dining table in the middle of the night, scarfing down the chocolate cake Ellie baked as a “congratulations” for your newly announced pregnancy. You froze as he flicked the light on to get a better picture of the scene he was walking in on—you in your nightgown, your belly as round as a watermelon, chocolate frosting on your mouth.

“I had a craving,” you meekly justified your current state, bringing an amused grin to his face as he walked over, sleep tousling his hair and softening his eyes. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he pulled up a seat beside you and plucked your fork from your hand and shoveled a piece of cake into his mouth. “Who said I wanted to share, huh?”

“My apologies,” he smiled as he lifted a piece to your lips, his lazy grin growing wider as he watched your lips wrap around the fork, cleaning it off. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip to collect the chocolate frosting that rested there before sucking it off with a satisfied hum. “I love seein’ you like this.”

“Yeah?” You laughed and rolled your eyes at the compliment. “I’m sure I look like an absolute goddess right now.”

“You do to me,” he crooned, his hand reaching down to rub over your stomach through the cotton of your gown. “Carryin’ my baby. You couldn’t look more beautiful to me than right now.”

“You’re awfully sweet for being woken up in the middle of the night,” you cooed back with a smile, pinching his chin.

“One more bite and then you’re comin’ back upstairs with me,” he ordered, reaching for the fork to feed you a satisfying final bite before doing the same for himself.

Obeying his command, you let him take you back up to bed for the night, your sugary craving now satisfied and a new, sweeter craving dawned—a craving for Joel’s arms wrapped around you, lulling you to sleep.

“How’s baby Miller doin’?” Joel mumbled against your shoulder as he kept his lips pressed there, holding you from behind and rubbing your stomach.

“Starting to kick a lot,” you chuckled through your sleepiness. “And they apparently have quite the sweet tooth. I haven’t stopped craving sugar since the third trimester started.”

“Oh, I know,” he chuckled and hugged you closer. “Can’t wait to have her here with us.”

“Me neither.”

Joel stood in the kitchen, a piece of paper in front of him on the counter with a messily scribbled recipe he’d jotted down courtesy of Maria. With the cake long gone by now, you’d gone days without something sweet to fulfill your cravings. Though you didn’t make a fuss over it, Joel took it upon himself to remedy the situation with an attempt at homemade ice cream—strawberry, thanks to the community garden’s latest impressive harvest.

“Oof,” you came waddling inside the house from the backyard, your hands still wearing your gardening gloves as they supported your lower back. “I think I’m getting too pregnant to take care of my flowers,” you pouted as you found yourself a seat at the dining table to watch Joel as he shuffled around the kitchen. After a beat of no response, you huffed out, “Hello? Am I a ghost?”

“Huh?” He turned around with a frantic, flustered expression and seemed to just now realize you’d come inside. “Sorry. I’m just…why are recipes so damn hard to follow. What’s the damn difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon?”

“Well, one’s bigger,” you chuckled and found the strength and energy to stand up and waddle over to the sink, your gloves coming off so that you could wash up. Peering over his shoulder, you nosily studied what he was working on before catching a glimpse at the recipe sheet. Though his handwriting wasn’t the cleanest, you could clearly make out “Strawberry Ice Cream” as the title. “Are you making ice cream?”

Joel whipped his head over at the sound of your bright voice, your smile wide with delight.

“Yeah,” he sighed, disappointed that his surprise had been ruined. “Was tryin’ to keep it a surprise until after supper but—“

You tugged him into a hug so tight he worried for a moment that you’d crush him.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his neck as your face buried there. Joel chuckled and peeled himself from you enough to look you in the eye, his smile soft as he studied the appreciation written all over your face.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughed, leaning in to peck your lips. “Might fuck it up.”

“I have full faith in you,” you assured with your thumb and index pinching his chin. “Especially when I call Ellie in here to help you because I need that ice cream, my love. More than I need anything.”

“Oh, anything, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest and turned playfully jealous in an instant. You laughed and stroked over his beard until his pour turned into a smile.

“Fine, almost more than anything.”

“Thank you,” he smiled into the kiss he planted upon your lips before tapping your ass lightly. “Now what were you sayin’ when you walked in?”

“Oh, I was just saying I don’t think I can look after my flowers anymore. My back is so sore these days—“

“Is it sore now?” He slid his hand up to rest on your lower back, his warm palm soothing over the aching muscle. When you let out a sigh of relief and rested your head on his chest, Joel felt a frenzy of affection swarm in his belly. “Baby,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let me take you upstairs and fix you a bath.”

“No,” you objected, lifting your head off his chest. “I really need to fix up the nursery. Baby girl is gonna be here in six weeks.”

“I’ll get someone else to do it—“

“No, you already got someone else to cover my shifts at the stable, and the garden, and now you’re trying to take away my nesting?” you playfully scolded him, a smirk on your face.

“I just hate seein’ you work too hard. You’re already workin’ a miracle by bringin’ my baby into the world,” he frowned a bit, something he’d only ever let you see. “I’ll leave you to your nestin’ but not until you sit in a hot bath. Your back’ll thank me later.”

“Fine, it’s a compromise,” you grinned and pulled him down for another short but satisfying peck. “Okay, I’ll go upstairs for my bath while you and Ellie finish the ice cream.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Later on that night after having spent at least an hour in the bathtub and twice as long fussing over the nursery, Joel forced you to relax at the dinner table, bringing you a plate of the most tender roast you’d ever seen.

“Oh my god,” you beamed as you looked from the plate to his eyes. “You did this?”

“I’ve been workin’ on my cookin’,” he shrugged bashfully. “It ain’t exactly fine dinin’, but I thought you deserved a fancier dinner than what I normally throw together.”

“You—“ You grabbed his chin and turned his face towards you, your smile still bright and beaming. “You are the love of my life, Joel Miller.”

Joel looked touched, his smile soft and sweet, just like him—or at least the side of him that you knew.

“And you are my life. Everything I do, everything I got—“ He placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed. “Everything. It’s yours.”

“Don’t make me cry on my food,” you chuckled and wiped the tears that filled in your waterline. “It looks too good to ruin.”

Joel laughed. “You started it.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #the stable girl #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction

[broomsick]

Nine unique ways to reconnect with nature

Why nine? Because it's the sacred number of my path. In my experience, for people like us who need a certain amount of spiritual practice in their lives, feeling close to nature does wonders for the mood. And I know this is easier said than done, which is why I wanted to share a few personal tips, all related to some extent to self care. After all, I feel like we underestimate the tight link between mental health and this feeling of “closeness” with the earth.

Find the sacred in plants, or animals you've always been drawn to. How can you explain this particular connection you feel? Your intuition often reveals truth.

Collect what you see, and don't be afraid to hoard trinkets like treasure. Cool rock, cool stick, cute acorn, fragrant flower, fallen branch... Whatever tickles your fancy.

Go out of your way to enjoy what every season has to offer. Garden in the summer, or chill at the park, carve a pumpkin during the autumn, make hot cocoa during the winter... Find ways to be cozy in every weather!

Look out the window. Do it as often as you can. Look at the sky, observe how windy it is, how bright the sun is, how thick the clouds are!

Give names to the natural elements around you. Simply calling a tree, plant or animal by the name of its species does the trick: names are powerful, and they show that you acknowledge the spirit that resides in everything that lives.

Learn the stories, as many as you can. Anything folklore related to your area! Folklore hides a great deal of generational wisdom and beliefs, and it reveals such a powerful connection between the people and the land.

Cook with fresh ingredients. No need to grow your own everything, or raise your own chickens, or adopt other such backyard farming activities. Simply by making meals out of fresh, local products as often as you can, you might feel as one with the land thanks to which you are fed.

Stop feeling silly when indulging in aesthetics. Make that Pinterest board filled with pictures of flowers! Listen to that song that makes you feel like a woodland fairy! Put on that long, flowy skirt, or that cardigan with knit mushrooms on it! Through these seemingly trivial little joys, we may experience a connection with ourselves that's crucial to feeling close to our mother earth.

Use your hands: craft artsy projects if you can, dig your fingers in the earth, and brush the bark of trees! You body is your best tool when it comes to feeling grounded. It's always the part of yourself that's closest to earth. To use it is to honor it, and to care for it is to care for yourself.

If you reside in the Northern hemisphere, have a great spring season! Hail the King of the Elves and the spirits of the land 💛

#hail Freyr #heathenry #norse paganism #paganism #spirituality #polytheism #norse gods #deity work #witchcraft #deities #green witchcraft #herbalism #spring #springtime #pagan

[axryl]

hellooo, first time writing for scara 🫣 pls lmk if i did well on this HAHAHAHA (mainly because i feel that he’s ooc here, but at the same time i hc that he tends to tone down his habit of calling people names on reader)

might make a part 2, but it depends if this does well

inspired by: backyard boy by claire rosinkranz

neighbor!scaramouche… who’s just moved in next door with his mom and his twin sister. from the window of your room, you watch him bring boxes in from the moving truck; and for a moment, he locks eyes with you. 

neighbor!scaramouche… who wears a scowl as he tends to the flowers planted by his mom in the backyard. you steal nervous glances at him, opting to stare at him from the corner of your eye when his back is turned in hopes that he wouldn’t catch you staring again.

neighbor!scaramouche… who drops by your place with his family, at the invitation from your own mom for a “welcome to the neighborhood” dinner. he reluctantly walks into the house, eyes trailing to every decoration and picture frame hung before his gaze finally lands on you.

—

you introduce yourself awkwardly to him, outstretching your hand for a handshake as your other fiddles with the hem of your shirt. his mother, who goes by the name “ei”, replies to you before he utters a word. 

“don’t mind him, he’s shy,” she sends a small smile your way, “kunikuzushi. his name is kunikuzushi.”

the man in question only sighs heavily, bringing a hand to scratch the side of his neck. 

“and yours?” he mutters.

you tilt your head in confusion, “my what?”

“your name, stupid.”

—

neighbor!scaramouche… who introduces himself to you properly. this time, on your backyard porch, as he insists that he goes by the name “scaramouche”. he hums in acknowledgment to your own introduction, albeit you being embarrassed from your previous confusion.

neighbor!scaramouche… who you get to know more as the adults chatter in the dining room of your home. he and his sister share an occasional banter as the three of you hang out, and you find yourself grinning at the snarky remarks the two siblings send to each other.

neighbor!scaramouche… who says he plays guitar when a guitar instrumental comes on from your speaker. 

—

“and he’s not good at it,” his sister, raiden shogun, snickers.

scaramouche rolls his eyes in return, “as if you’re good with that damn violin either, the thing practically screeches in agony when you play.”

raiden gasps dramatically, bringing a hand to her chest, and you only giggle as you take in the scene of raiden sending a light punch to his shoulder.

he clicks his tongue in annoyance at her punch before shoving her off him. scaramouche then turns to you, his expression switching from one of irritation to one with a softer touch to it.

“i can play to you sometime, i guess. if i-” he cuts himself off, coughing into his fist, “i mean, if you have the time for it.”

your eyes widen at his words. did he really just offer to spend time with you? well damn, if you had known the invitation from your mom would lead to this you’d have been the one to deliver the news yourself. 

with thoughts running a million miles an hour, you snap yourself out of it before letting a smile grow on your face. 

“sure, that would be okay.”

—

neighbor!scaramouche… who at the end of the night, turns to you while both of your families bid each other goodbye and thanks for the dinner. he awkwardly hands you a small piece of crumpled paper, before quickly leaving out of the door with his family before he could see your reaction to his number scribbled messily on the surface.

neighbor!raiden shogun… who watches the scene unfold in front of her as she stands in a way that’s similar to this emoji, “🧍‍♀️”. when scaramouche finally leaves your home, a smirk grows on her face as she notices the red tips of her brother’s ears.

#scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kunikuzushi fluff #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x readaer #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin college au #axryl.writes

[angelstate]

Husband!Price x Wife!reader

Captain Price isn’t a good man, he never claimed to be one and barely fills the requirements to be considered a moral being in the most mundane aspect of questioning life scenarios he is put to experience over and over again as he grows consciously older.

He knows just how tarnished he is, how dirty his hands are with blood, and how the closest he’ll ever get to heaven is by your side, and in all honesty, he wasn’t a man who craved a peaceful afterlife, nor did he crave for the existence of the promised afterlife his religious mother talked to him about every night to be true. 

Your existence is the only thing that soothes his aching heart, the only person who makes him feel better and unconsciously worse for being the man he is. Because you hold him so gently, speak so softly, and mutter praises for putting his life on the line, for losing morals so the entirety of the world didn’t lose theirs.

He feels as if it’s rotten work to love him, a tortuous action you keep because of the high morals he was never able to develop or comprehend. He sees you as a Martyr for staying with him when he continuously leaves you, disappearing to fight the evils of the world he knows won’t be eradicated anytime soon. 

Aren’t you the kindest of angels for guarding him everywhere he goes, a photo of you hidden in a small pocket on his hat, the smell of your sweet perfume on his suitcase “so you don’t forget my smell” you explained while saying goodbye to him at the door of your home. Oh, sweet angel, he will never forget you.

He usually doesn’t make promises he can't keep, not wanting to feed false hope to the people he cares for, but when you stare at him with teary doe eyes and a pretty smile on your lips because you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to that be the last expression he sees on your face if the inevitable thing that is death happens to him in the battlefield and not in your arms, of old age with a peaceful mind, he feels compelled to promise his return, to ease your mind and take away the crushing pressure on his chest.

he would die for his teammates, but he would live for you.

“Try and return to me” you whisper in his ear, kissing him on the cheek before pulling away, you have no idea what he would do to ensure he finds his way into your arms one more time before perishing. “Of course, love” he replies, voice gruff yet holding an endearment he only has for you. 

And he remembers your last conversation with pain because Captain Price isn’t a good man, but Jonathan Price is, your Johny is a good man, one who holds you close to his chest at night despite his aching bones from War and violence, who opens the door for you and buys you flower every Sunday after church.

But tonight the night sky has a dooming dark he has never seen before, and the stars above him as he bleeds out on the soil are too blurry to stargaze the way he does with you back home, there is no grass on the floor to soothe the ache of his sore bones the way the backyard of your home does.

He knows he has never been a religious person, never been one to have a relationship with God, but you do, he knows you pray for him to return safe every day he is away from you, so tonight, knowing he isn’t returning to you, he prays for you. he prays for God to be kind to your soul and guide a new lover your way, one who won’t die thousands of miles away from you, one with a body to bury when death catches up to them. 

He prays for nothing more than for God to allow you to live peacefully the rest of your time while his time reaches an end in a secluded place on earth, looking at your picture for one last time before pressing it close to his heart with the hand that has his wedding band, feeling his skin slowly match the temperature of the cold material, his last heartbeats only known by the picture of you and him, a last secret to share with you.

Husband!Price prays for the afterlife to be real, so he can have a chance of seeing you again someday. 

#call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #captain john price #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #call of duty x reader #cod men #price cod #husband!price #wife!reader #john price #captain price #angst #cod angst

[saltofmercury]

The Garden

Pairing: König x reader

Authors note: this was based on this skin I saw on him I just picture this guy having a garden or being a bee keeper.

"The Garden"

It had started with poppies. Red, orange, and pink. As if it were a routine every Sunday morning he would come in, flowers behind his back, a coffee on the other hand, and kissed you deeply. He would then present his assortment from behind his back.

You gushed at the small bouquet, wrapped in the comic section from the newspaper, colors of the comic making the petals stand out more. It was small things like that, that made you wonder more about him. As secretive as he was about his job, bits and pieces of his true self came out too.

Then, his second attempt was to bring you flowers you’ve never seen before.

Pink orchids, perfect storm hibiscus, ranunculuses, in different shades you couldn’t believe. 

“It’s not my birthday…” you sighed, exhaling in adoration. Surprised by his generosity every time.

“It is for… just because” he smiled, seeing your eyes roam the petals, the smile on your face growing slowly, making his heart melt.

You wondered, what farmers market was he going to that you couldn’t find?

It wasn’t until one weekend that you over welcomed your stay that you uncovered his secret little hobby.

You had woken up, startled that his side of the bed was cold. You huffed, upset that he had gone to the gym. You stretched and slumped down the hallway to get started on breakfast.

Or so you thought.

You saw König through the window in his backyard holding a soil bag over his shoulder, his face covered by a towel, and a bucket hat.

He had been up at six in the morning, dressed in a white t-shirt, denim overalls, and green rain boots. What was he up to?

You walked over to the window, knocked on it. It was so cute seeing him turn around, his face a shade whiter because of the sunscreen cast, then a smile appearing on his face. You waved at him, and he dropped the soil bag, walking over to the door.

“Schatzi… you shouldn’t be up at this hour” 

“It’s 9:30 in the morning…”

“Exactly, it’s way too early for you.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t know you.. tended a garden.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s nothing, I don’t like a messy backyard.”

“Yeah yeah,” you paused, he had taken out many tools, laid out in front of a gate.

“Since when does the military show you how to garden?”

He laughed at you, and swiped a finger on your nose.

“I’ll be done in one hour, and we can go to breakfast.”

You ignored his proposal, wanting to see more of him in action.

“No, let's stay home today, I can eat here, you finish gardening.”

He side eyed you, thankful for not disrupting his hobby, and shrugged.

“Okay schatzi I’ll be outside.” He turned back to his garden.

The entire morning you had watched him bent over, on his knees, poking, prodding, cutting, digging, pulling, planting, watering, and spraying his entire backyard. You sat by the window, sipping your third cup of coffee. He had finished by eleven in the morning, just in time for lunch.

He came in, drenched in sweat, stomping his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a huge glass of water, and proceeded to chug it down.

You had been preparing lunch, eyeing him from the window, waiting for the meat to cook. He had peeked open one of the lids on the stovetop.

“How come you never ask me to help you?”

He had choked on the water, coughing it up, and then regaining composure. 

“Schatz, jesus christ… Announce yourself!” 

He cleaned up the water from his chin, inhaled and exhaled, and came over.

“Help me in what? You mean outside?” He said it surprised, he never told you about the garden, thinking it would be “too feminine” as his father told him as a child. He looked at you nervously.

“Yes outside, I never knew you had a garden! I just knew about your jacuzzi from that one night.”

You weren’t sure if he was turning red or just red from outside, but he had taken the towel off his head, wiping away at his face.

“It’s just my hobby, but if you insist I'll show you.” He sort of had no choice, he was excited to show you this part of him, and for the safety of his garden being picked or prodded at by you, he extended his hand out and guided you outside.

*

You couldn’t keep a plant alive to save your life, you never understood “plant” people constantly buying plants to keep in their home. You remembered your mom having a vine type of plant hanging off the ceiling in your apartment, but that was the extent of your knowledge.

Flowers were about as close as you got to keeping something alive, but happily and greedily letting those die because they had no source of life connected to them.

Now you were walking to the extra plot of land König had saved in his backyard.

What seemed to be bushes of green surrounding the entrance, had mesmerized and lured you in.

There were rows of planter boxes on the ground, silver metal archways inside some of the boxes, vines connected to them. He had small fruit trees in one corner, in the other corner he had plants, actual green plants growing, blooming, and thriving in the sun. 

There was a place and order for his garden, just like his house.

You couldn’t keep a plant alive, but König could probably feed you two through the winter.

He excitedly pulled you around his garden, telling you what he was growing.

“You see, schatzi, this is where I grow my crops. I have some eggplant, tomatoes, broccoli, and small peppers.”

He had pointed to the small crops growing, their colors vibrant, his produce huge just like him. It was outstanding.

He tugged you to another planter box.

“This is where you have your leafy greens. I only do kale and sometimes lettuce here, but I am not a fan of salads.” 

You laughed, the bunches of kale growing a deep shade of green, their leaves crinkled and huge. Some of his lettuce heads had holes in them, probably from pesky critters.

He walked you down to some of the plants he was growing.

“My grandma always liked to grow new life, so this is her corner of the garden.”

Vines, sage bushes, and lavender, growing in one end of his garden, Colorful shades of green, purple, violet, and deep green growing and surrounding this area. The fragrance hit you, reminding you of your childhood. It felt nostalgic, smelling these plants.

He had quietly said,

“All things grow with love and patience.” he paused, “That’s what she used to tell me.” A small reminder that she used to tell him when he was worried next to her in the garden, his plants wouldn’t grow (like him) and they would die.

He brought you to the other corner where he pointed at a couple lifeless trees.

“I hope by December, this little guy will bloom pomegranates.”

“Pomegranates?”

“Yes schatzi, I’ve had so much trouble trying to grow this tree, I saw some improvement last fall, but had only produced maybe four small fruits.”

“They were only four, but they were a brilliant red, and so juicy!”

You heard his determination in his voice, how proud he felt that he grew and produced fruit. It was a side you never seen before, let alone heard. He had touched one of the branches drooping down toward him, he caressed the branch and its leaves, being ever so gentle, and then releasing it, making it wobble up and down.

“Over there are the grapes, they aren’t ready yet, but I promise you by July, we’ll have so many grapes we will be sick of them.”

A jungle of small green grapes had appeared by one of the silver archways he built, tangled in huge leaves and thick vines.

“Wow, you have grapes too?” was all you could say.

He turned his attention towards you, grabbed your hand again and led you to another corner.

He had got nervous, let go of your hand, began cracking his fingers, a nervous fidget he had grown accustomed to when it came to showing you things.

“This corner here… is uh.. Well you know what it is.”

You never thought of König as a romantic, but you think deep down, somewhere at the bottom of his heart is where he hides it, it’s where his love for you has blossomed, pouring love into this small corner of his garden.

The flowers that you never could find, that he always brought to you on Sunday mornings are grown here, in his backyard. This small little garden plot, he had dedicated to you, filled with almost every color imaginable, petals of different shapes, hues of orange, red, yellow, pink, purple, and even blues surrounding you, comforting you.

He peeks over to where you are, his face pooled with admiration and love, when he tells you “This is your corner of the garden.”

“You grew all this for me?”

“Yes.. I did”

He looked like a boy, innocently smiling super big, his hands in his pockets, watching you, take all the colors in.

“I never knew what I would grow for you, but I figured it would be flowers, who doesn’t like flowers.”

You had bit your bottom lip attempting to hide your smile.

“I’ll have sunflowers by summer too. I know you said something about Van Gogh, so I started early last month.”

You smiled, remembering that you were talking about the exhibition of Van Gogh, not the flowers. You turned to him, praising him.

“Thank you, I just, I don't know what to say.” And you didn’t, there wasn’t any grand gestures from him before. Especially in your relationship. Sure he had ordered hundreds of roses when you guys fought, but you think maybe this was his way of showing how much he really did care, giving you your own corner of love.

“So when can I help?”

König’s eyes widened, before peering down at you, bending over to kiss your nose.

“Whenever you want.”

*

Saturday morning you’re standing in his garden again, ready to help him.

He’s slathering on sunscreen, before putting a cool, damp towel on his head, secured by his bucket hat. He then comes to you, rubbing sunscreen on your nose, neck, and ears.

“Schatz I get you like the sun, but trust me, sunburns are painful.”

He knows, after being on a dangerous mission in the desert, taking no precautions how powerful the sun is.

He hands you a basket filled with tools you’ve never seen.

“Ready? It's a two hour work day.”

He leads you to one of the boxes, instructing you to pull the weeds out. 

“These are clovers, they’re good luck.”

“They will sprout white flowers, not good for this area.”

You begin to pull them out, kind of upset. You always liked clovers.

He turns to you again, seeing you pout.

“Come on schatz, clovers are weeds.”

You smiled at him, “but they looked so cute.”

“Did you know my grandma used to tell me stories about clovers?” he looked over at you.

“She used to tell me, ‘little clover bunches bring small creatures from the woods, they’re the ones who steal your crops.’ He looked up at you again, where he was finishing up his own side of the bed.

“And… when you see a circle of mushrooms it’s fairies, coming to keep you awake at night, which is why we must pick them out.”

You two had finished the bed, working on the other two, then watering the beds.

He looked so at peace here, tending to his garden. He looked like he had possibly been a farmer in Austria, with all the extensive knowledge he told you about soil, plants, which things to grow when, and how much water everything needed. He turned to face you,

“you just turned three different shades of red in the last 5 minutes… did you reapply?”

“No…”

“Go reapply and i’ll show you how to water your corner.”

You stomped to the porch again, slathering on sunscreen, then came back.

He pointed the hose at you, then showed you which dial to use on it.

“See, if you go to this one, it won't ruin your petals, just give it a nice mist.”

He modeled it for you, then gave you the hose. “Gentle schatz, these are your flowers.”

You sprayed lightly over the rainbow of flowers, hoping you weren’t going to drown them, or worst case scenario, kill them. Once finished, he asked you for help on the arch trellis.

“Arch trellis?”

“This arch right here.” He pointed to the silver metal arch you had seen last week.

“With this, I think I’ll be able to have the grapes hang over for easier access this summer”

You two worked, untangling and tangling the vines into the arch, being so careful because the grapes were still in their early season to mess with. Then let the small green grapes hang, cutting off a few big leaves.

You had enjoyed it, you didn’t expect to be left on a high helping pull out weeds, water some flowers, or untangle some vines. He picked up his equipment, held out his hand, and walked inside. 

The fatigue of being in the sun all morning weighed on you as soon as you entered the house. He placed his tools in the sink, then took off his clothes. He plopped himself on the couch, pulling you in.

“This can be our hobby, you know, I have many things to show you.”

You had been undressing yourself too, to just your underwear, then plopped right onto him. Both of you sticky from the sun.

Excitement filled your stomach, ready to help him with anything.

“Whenever you’re ready to start”

#könig #call of duty #könig x reader #könig headcanons #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #garden!könig #konig x reader #cod könig #könig cod #könig x you

[vettelinyourarea]

all of the girls you loved before - carlos sainz

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

word count: 1,051

inspired by all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

warning: english is not my first language, otherwise none i think

feel free to give me any feedback!

When you think of all the late nights

Lame fights over the phone

Wake up in the morning with someone

But feeling alone

Your past relationships were not like the one you currently have with Carlos. When you first spend the night with him, you thought it would just be the same as waking up alone, because that’s how you feel when you dated other men. But you were surprised when you woke up feeling comfortable, being hugged by someone who you have come to know since you were just a child.

Really, no one was surprised when you started dating your childhood friend. You and Carlos on the other hand, were very very surprise when you learn about each others feelings for the first time. Your thoughts got abruptly cut off when you feel a kiss being pressed on your temple by a pair of lips you have come to be familiar with.

“Good morning, hermosa.”

Your past and mine are parallel lines

Stars all aligned and they intertwined

You first met Carlos when you both went to the same kindergarten. You remember you were playing with fake fruits all alone when he first came to you and stuck out his hand. “My name is Carlos!” he said with a toothy grin. And both of you are inseparable from then on.

All of the girls you loved before

Made you the one I’ve fallen for

Every dead-end street

Led you straight to me

You were crying in your dorm room alone when you suddenly hear a knock on the door. Trying to wipe off your tears, you immediately started to break down again after seeing who it was.

Carlos, standing in your doorway holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant down the street. You had not expect him to come to you immediately when you texted him about your relationship.

I broke up with him. He cheated on me with my fucking friend.

But here he is, hugging you while you cried your eyes off. You were surprised he came to you not even 30 minutes after you texted him, especially because he just finished training, preparing for the upcoming season. But he was always like this, always putting you first, even above himself.

Now you’re all I need

I’m so thankful for

All of the girls you loved before

“I should definitely thank your exes for this,” you said jokingly after feeling a little bit better. “What?” he said, quite surprised by what you had just said. It was not a secret between both of you that neither of you two have ever like each other’s exes.

“Yeah, she really taught you how to comfort someone. Remember when I broke up with my ex and you asked me to go fishing?” you said with a little smile on your face, remembering his panicked face when you started crying more hysterically after he asked you to go fishing with him.

“Please don’t bring it up again,” he said with a soft smile, trying to act annoyed even though all he could feel at that moment is happiness in seeing your smile.

“By the way, I can definitely treat you better than your exes,” he said.

“I know you can.”

When i think of all the makeup

Fake love out on the town

Cryin’ in the bathroom for some dude

Whose name I cannot remember now

You were at your backyard when he talked about your high school years together. “Remember when you cried over your crush when we were 16? I remember you were crying in your bathroom and didn’t want to go to school,” he said while laughing. And you can’t help but laugh at it too. Partly because of hearing his laugh, and partly because of how random it was.

“Of course I did! I was so sad because he posted a picture with his girlfriend back then, and I have always thought I would have a chance with him even though I’ve never even talked to him, I don’t even remember his name now!” you said with a big smile after hearing Carlos laughed once again at the story.

“Well, good thing I still stick around you even after you went to school with mascara all over your face.”

Your mother brought you up loyal and kind

Teenage love taught you there’s good in goodbye

Every woman that you knew brought you here

I wanna teach you how forever feels

It was no secret that Carlos is a gentleman. He never raised his voice at anyone even when he was frustrated, he always tells you about his problems so there is no miscommunication between you two, and he also always treats you like a queen. But one dinner though, he made a quite shocking revelation to you.

“You know, I got scolded by my mom after our first dinner as a couple together,” he said while eating his slice of pizza. You were having a movie night and dinner together to celebrate your second anniversary. “Huh? Why did she scold you?” you asked because you didn’t remember seeing him getting scold by his mom.

“Yeah, she scolded me because I forgot to pull the chair for you.”

“Ooohh, so that’s why you scolded me when I pull the chair myself?”

I’m so thankful for

All of the girls you loved before

But I love you more

“You know, I think I really need to thank the girls you dated before,” you said suddenly. Of course it makes Carlos shocked, you just got married and it was the first thing you said to him right after the ceremony. Not even I love you or I’m so happy or other romantic things.

“They made you become the man I’ve come to love, you know?” you said after seeing his confused look. Thankfully, it was quickly replaced by a soft smile on his face, mirroring yourself. “Well, I also become the current Carlos because of you, hermosa.” He said while looking at you.

“Well, I know that. I just want to thank them, you know? Although, I know that I love you more than they have ever loved you. That’s why I married to you now.”

“Oh, I also know that.”

#f1 #carlos sainz #formula 1 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #vettelinyourarea

[reidsdaisies]

Heyyy!!!! Could you please write a blurb, drabble or headcanon about Spencer wanting to be a househusband or how would he be as such??!? I’ve been watching The way of the househusband anime lately and it sparked the idea. I love your writing and have a great day 💕💕💕

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; househusband spencer reid x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; you literally read my mind!! I’ve been wanting to do something about househusband spencer ever since i did spencer x housewife reader! and i had way too much fun on pinterest looking for inspo pics 😭💞 here’s a board i lowk love, I think it’s just adorable if anyone wants to know what I’m picturing — ׂׂૢ

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— i know i said he’s a terrible cook before, but in this universe i think he would have spent a lot of time learning how to cook and bake so he could cook you homemade meals and delicious sweet treats to show his appreciation for how hard you work to put a roof over the two of your heads

— he wears cute ass girly or flowery aprons when cooking and adorable oven mitts, fight me

— he has an unhealthy attachment to his kitchen aid mixer, will talk about how much he loves that thing. you’re concerned.

— excellent and very precise with cleaning 👌 scrubs at the bathroom sink till you can practically see your reflection in it and dusts every damn crevice of your house

— very passionate about the projects he gets into. like if he decides he wants a garden, omg he will commit. he’d probably want a house with a big backyard with enough space to build one of those cute vegetable gardens in the back yard and grow you two’s own food. and he would plant big apple and pear trees, would take pride in how great the fruit is and when everything is finally ready to be picked, he’ll make you bring it to work for the team

— AND omg a greenhouse would be his dream to have. everyone knows about his big ass brain and he definitely has extensive knowledge on all different types of plants, exactly what conditions they need to thrive

— along with that, i know he’d be really into lawn-scaping, you two have the best lawn EVER, and im not exaggerating. the back and the front of the house— absolutely beautiful. he picks out the prettiest flowers and makes sure the soil is rich, and ofc trims the bushes to perfection. he’d look so cute with gardening gloves, these or these specifically, and his massive ass, muddy ass gardening boots that are a size too big but he’s oddly attached to them.

— other hobbies he’s picked up include scrapbooking, drawing, painting, and of course knitting & crocheting.

— in one episode, he told Penelope he spent weeks knitting a scarf for his cosplay, and so now I’ve been constantly thinking about the other things he’d knit & crochet for him and his partner. scarfs, mittens, winter hats, sweaters, pot holders, anything he can make, he will make even just to try it out once.

— the pot holders would have cute animals on them or flowers. floral everything. he loves all plants, specifically flowers.

— now that you two own a house together, there’s so much opportunity for him. he’s got his own office AND most importantly, it’s massive and doubles as his own personal library. it’s walls are lined with multiple of the tallest, most spacious bookcases you could find for him, still just barely being able to fit his ever growing book collection on their shelves.

— he’s a house husband, he probably doesn’t have time for the FBI. im not sure if he would be fully a stay at home husband because that would bore him and many people need the help of his big brain so I think he’d spend a lot of time in his office, researching and writing articles probably most having to do with finding a cure for schizophrenia.

— if he were to also be a professor while married to you, i don’t think that would happen unless you’re imaging later seasons reid, but personally I’m imagining seasons 6-11 (minus season 8 with the maeve story arc) for this.

— i could maybe see Penelope and him owning a buisness/website together for both their crafts, of course Penelope would run the website and handle all the technical things.

— you and spencer have Penelope over on weekends and off days to chit chat while knitting or painting mugs or canvases. sometimes you’ll invite JJ, Emily, and Derek over but Emily and Derek would drag you away to the kitchen to get wine-drunk and gossip while JJ would be decorating the frames of her kids pictures and copying silly mug designs she found on Pinterest for Will.

— whenever you’re not on a case, and you’re friends aren’t available or you two aren’t feeling ver social, that’s when you finally get to be the sweet, lovey-dovey married couple you two are at heart

— for fun, you guys always bake brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and what not together, that ofc, he insists you take into work to show off his beautiful decorating skills. they’re not that beautiful but you still like to tell him they are to boost his ego and make jokes about how he should work at a bakery. a bakery would never hire him.

— you’ve given him the nickname of ‘cuddle bug’. why? because he’s such a gosh darn cuddle bug. will curl up to your side for hours while you finish any necessary paperwork and you two talk about the most recent case you worked while he’s mindlessly drawing little butterflies and hearts on your back

— after particularly rough cases, he runs you two a bubble bath to just soak in and spend some much needed and well deserved alone time together

— mentioned this in my housewife head canons, but you two would take turns giving each other back, shoulder, foot, or really anywhere needed massages. he’s all fancy with it, bringing out coconut oil and shi but you just let him do his thing, you’re getting a free massage, no need to complain about that

༉‧´ˎ˗ bonus; you two have movie nights every friday where you lounge in the living room eating nachos and watching tv. surprise, he always weasels his way into getting to pick what you watch. even bigger ‘surprise’, it’s always Star Trek or some scientific documentary.

-

anyways, that’s all i can think of for now, but if anyone has anything they want to add, please talk to me about house husband spencer through my inbox !! i will do anything to feminize this beautiful man

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #house husband spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male reader #househusband spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom

[seeingivy]

sick with sadness

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

content: mentions of depression/anxiety, getting taken advantage of, pure sadness NO happy in this chapter

an: I am alive. I am convinced I have some underlying chronic disease or illness going on with the way the past three weeks have gone, but I am alive. we are all going to close our eyes and read this chapter and then move on.

previous chapter

--

Eren’s tenth birthday is the first time he feels it. 

He sits on the spiral staircase to watch the crowd roar on outside, well past the normal time he’d be asleep. He can feel the tiredness sitting in his eyes, the stuffy, starched suit his mom forced him to wear digging into his neck. There’s a mix of blue, green, and yellow confetti littered on the floor, a sticky grime to the usual pristine house his mom’s meticulousness affords - and he hates it. 

From his vantage point, he can see every corner of the party, the expansive glass doors letting him catch every person laughing, enjoying, swinging to the beat of the music. Armin and Bertholdt are pouring salt into Historia and Annie’s drinks while they use the bathroom, Sasha and Jean are being way too aggressive with the pinata, and Mikasa’s braiding a little flower crown for a very smiley Marco. 

His parents' friends, people whose movies he’s spent years watching when he grew up, studied when he was at the SHWA are on the right side of the lot, sparkling dresses getting ruined by the mud in the backyard and their expensive jewelry discarded on the tables. 

And all Eren can do is watch. Whatever it is, the block in his chest, that’s stopping the breath from reaching his lungs - it’s gluing him down to the seat, making every part of his brain feel heavy and his arms feel loose. 

If souls were real, his would be hundreds, thousands of miles away - detached from his real body. 

He hears a loud pounding and turns his neck to find Ymir and Reiner poking the little aquarium to the left of the staircase. The fish he picked out with Zeke on his last birthday, the picture perfect day of quiet solitude, are frantically swimming around the tank.

He watches the two of them, their inquisitive eyes laughing as the fish duck around the tank after each respective smack. The lights flicker every time Ymir pounds her closed fist against the glass, the sound so loud that it smacks against the wall behind it. 

And suddenly, the sound, that sound, is all too loud, so jarring that before he knows it there’s thick tears pouring out of his eyes and his voice is getting all tangled in his chest. He’s not sure how he got there, but suddenly he’s standing up, freed from the stairs, and yelling at the two of them. 

“Stop smacking against the glass, Ymir! They don’t like that.” 

Ymir looks over, a confused and almost bored look on her face. Reiner's eyes, he's so puzzled, only make his skin burn more. Reiner’s looking at him like there’s something wrong with him. 

Is there something wrong with him?

“It’s just a fish, Eren. They don’t even care.” Ymir says, bending back over to focus her eyes on the glass. 

“They do care! Every time you punch the glass they swim away because they’re scared.” Eren says, his chest heaving too hard, his mind not catching fast enough to stop it. 

Reiner and Ymir shrug as they walk away, the two of them giving Eren pitchy awkward smiles as they each squeeze his shoulder once. And when they’re finally out of their vantage point, the tears are only hotter, faster, scalding hot as he stares at the fish in their little cave, instead of swimming freely in the tank. 

The fish, long gone, are always what come back to Eren when the feeling returns. 

When the sadness takes residence in his chest.

--

“Sorry…line?” Eren says, giving an awkward smile to the director as he turns his neck to the right. 

The director, David Lance, rolls his eyes as he cuts filming on the scene, very aggressively calling for lunch. Eren feels his throat sink into his chest, the regret settling in regardless, as he watches him angrily storm off, the cast and the crew awkwardly shuffle behind him. 

He should have spent longer memorizing his lines. Or at least reviewed them this morning. Eren shuffles his feet to the coffee cart as he starts apologizing to the cast and crew, who are all but kind to him about his performance. Truly, his only saving grace in the personal hell that he’s living in.

Deep down, Eren knew that whatever he worked on next, wod never compare to the work that he did on Attack on Titan. Getting to work with his biggest role models, all of the people he grew up with, the girl he was in love with right across the door from him - it was virtually impossible for anything to shape up. 

He just didn’t realize it would be this fucking bleak on the other side. 

The plot of Satellite Port is mediocre at best. Another cheesy astronaut movie, clearly trying to catapult off the success of the feature film that won best picture last year. A half-assed director - who can’t even fucking direct - and maybe the stupidest dialogue he’s ever seen in his life. 

Eren’s a good actor. But even he can’t fix this. 

And he’s had enough when he hears an irritated sigh behind him and turns around to find Gianna de Anola, his prissy co-star, glaring at him. An ice-cold supermodel, Gianna’s making her break onto the acting front, trying to fall in the footsteps of her world-famous triple threat mother. 

“You know, maybe if you didn’t stay up jerking off, we’d actually be able to finish this movie on time.” she says, slouching down in her chair as her assistant brings her lunch to her side. 

If Eren could, he’s strangle her assistant every time he walked over. And then her for good measure too. 

“I wasn’t jerking off.” Eren mutters, grabbing his script from the table as he flips to the end of the pages. His lines are all highlighted and he can feel his frustration growing even deeper as he remembers he spent two hours doing this scene yesterday. 

“You want to know something embarrassing, Eren?” Gianna says, twisting the straw in her soda can with her perfectly manicured fingers. 

From the look on her face, Eren already knows. She’s going to say something that’s going to ruin his whole day. 

“Please, Gianna. I’m dying of fucking curiosity over here.” 

“You spend all your time watching your little pop-star girlfriend perform on her world tour. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn, sacrifice the movie you’re working on, probably text her good luck before every show of hers and I’ll give you twenty bucks she won’t even come to your premiere.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” 

Eren drops his script on to his lap, his ears burning with irritation, at idiots like Gianna. The picture perfect image of nepotism.

Eren’s not trying to be hypocritical. He knows that his parents are famous actors, his brothers at the top of the industry, which sets him out to be a premier face in the industry. But Gianna is a whole different breed. 

Because Eren’s trying. He- he has a reason for wanting to do this. There’s a difference between him and her. 

There’s a part of him, deep down, that’s enthralled with the job he gets to do. That encourages, cherishes, deeply acknowledges that what he gets to do is a privilege. 

Eren is making art. He gets to tell stories about people's lives and take every broken part of him and make it into something great. He can pour every negative, disgusting, boring, happy, ecstatic moment he’s ever had into a scene to make it something better. 

Have someone watching his work at home feel seen, have their chest stir and their eyes water because someone out there feels the same thing he does. Make people feel nostalgic, excited, sad - to feel the feelings with him. To be with him from the beginning of the story till the end, to be excited about what he has to say and what he has to do. 

Eren’s parents are famous. And by definition, so is he. But there’s a part of him, deep down, that wants to prove himself. Show that he has feelings, emotions, something to share with people that’s true, authentic - and not just because it was what he was meant to do. 

And he knows that’s not the case here. 

She’s a specific type. Part of the clear cut, mindless army of people with famous parents - living, thriving off what gets them attention next. It makes Eren sick, makes his stomach turn over in circles and circles until he’s churning with anger. So angry, so negative that it makes his skin itch like he’s covered in dirt. 

He looks over at Gianna, a smirk pressed on her perfectly airbrushed face from the makeup team, and he can’t help but feel the burning in his chest sink lower and lower until it’s replaced with ice cold. A hollow wind, rustling through trees.  

It’s because he knows Gianna is right. And that if an idiot like her can catch onto it, it won’t be fast until everyone else follows, until he’s the radio clown in the papers next week. 

Because despite your best efforts, Eren knows deep down that she’s right. 

You won’t be coming to his premiere. You’re above it. 

--

Eren swirls the fizzy drink in his hand as he leans against the wall, eyes focused on every person and almost no one in the room at the same time. And he’s trying to push that feeling down, the block in his chest, as he tries to memorize all the faces here, everyone celebrating in front of him. 

He’ll remember this moment as the sweetest one. When he can finally say goodbye to this godforsaken movie. He feels a smack on his shoulder and a sudden flash in his eyes, all his senses bombarded all of a sudden. 

“TMZ! TMZ! TMZ!” 

“Connie. Would it kill you to be quiet for maybe like five minutes?” Jean mutters, rolling his eyes as he shoves Connie to the side. 

Eren finds Connie, Jean, Armin, and Marco in his periphery, the three of them smiling big at him. Connie and Jean have clearly already had too much to drink - from the way their ties are loosened against their necks and the pink tints on their cheeks. 

And from the way they’re currently trying to wrestle each other at his wrap party. 

“Do you ever think about that? Armin is literally like paparazzi with that fucking polaroid camera. He’s been a little bitch like that since he was fifteen.” Connie says, squishing Armin’s cheek, as Armin frantically tries to swat him off. 

“Like you’re any better, Connie. You’ve been doing the same thing to Eren and Y/N since like the first day of filming.” Marco responds, taking the spot next to Eren, giving him a smile. 

“See but. That was me helping a brother get it. I got so tired of seeing his little horny, wimpy eyes I just had to help him out.” Connie responds, snickering with Jean.

“Oh my god. Connie look, it’s that girl from Death Note.” Eren says, pointing in an ambiguous mention. 

Connie’s so frazzled by the mere mention of her - and the alcohol in his system surely can’t help - that he’s dragging Jean to the other side of the room where Eren pointed, the two of them creating a mess of knocking things over as he leaves. 

In another life, and probably in this one too, Eren thinks that Connie was raised in a barn. 

Armin and Marco lean against the wall with Eren, the three of them staring across the room together now. After six months of pure torture - the most irritating director known to man, the biggest diva as his co-star, and the sweltering heat of Tampa, Florida - Eren’s finally been freed from the godforsaken Satellite Port movie. 

The day he’s been looking forward to, since he started all this, is finally at his front door and he can’t be more than relieved. He gets to hear the ratings for the movie at the end of the party, celebrate with his friends, and finally see you after seven months. 

And stick it to Gianna di Anola’s face that you still love him. Granted, she doesn’t know that you two are actually dating or that you even love each other - no one does besides your friends - but he can still have the satisfaction. Of imaging her stupid face pursed up in irritation at being wrong. That he has something she doesn’t. 

“Can I say something you potentially might not like?” Armin says, tucking the polaroid he just took - the tops of Connie and Jean’s eyes and a very confused looking Eren in the back - into his coat as he leans back. 

“Sure.” Eren responds. 

“I really hate your co-star. She- she’s so annoying.” Armin responds, sighing. 

Eren laughs as he pats Armin on the shoulder, amused that Armin thought something like that could offend him. 

“Imagine working with her for six months.” Eren deadpans, eliciting laughs from both Armin and Marco. 

The feeling - the overwhelming, all consuming wave of panic - is subsiding in his chest as Marco laughs at his side, the three of them nitpicking everyone in the room to pass the time. No one’s safe from the three of them - every stuck up friend of Gianna’s, the coattail hanging out of David’s outfit, and the godforsaken designer - they're not safe from the three of them

“David Lance has a stick up his ass and that’s what he used to write that dogshit script.” Eren says, his face hurting from smiling. 

“And the best part? Gianna di Anola thinks the script is amazing because she can’t even read it.” 

Armin, Marco, and Eren turn their heads to find Sukuna at their side, a devious smirk pressed onto his lips. They all laugh as Sukuna slides against the wall next to Eren, taking the glass from his hands, and downing the last of the liquid. He makes a weird face as he swallows, turning to Eren.

“Are you drinking apple cider?” 

“I don’t like to drink.” Eren responds. 

Sukuna gives him a polite nod before rolling his eyes, his glare focused toward the front door. Hyla Clarkson - the girl that Sukuna has publicly been feuding with for the past few months - just entered, pressing kisses to Gianna and her family. 

All he knows is that if he tallied up every time Hyla and Sukuna argued and fought, she would win - by a longshot. Sukuna’s still blacklisted from getting hired by certain studios - a fact he only knows because he only ever took Satellite Port because Sukuna was supposed to be there with him. It was a rude surprise when he showed up and got left to fend for himself. 

“So are you on again or off again?” Armin asks. 

“On. But- I. I don’t know - they’ve got this way of sucking you in.” he responds. 

“Wasn’t she dating that model last week? What’s his name again, something-” Marco starts. 

“No. You know how tabloids are, they-they’re always on some shit.” Sukuna responds. 

Eren puts a hand on Sukuna’s shoulder and squeezes, pushing even further. 

“So did they photoshop that picture of them kissing or-?” Eren says, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“She was just trying to piss me off, it-it’s all part of the chase. Plus, you should know of all people, Eren. You’re telling me everything that the tabloids write about Ricky and Y/N is true?” 

Eren lets go, his throat dry at the mention of it. He can feel his knuckles turning white against the empty glass Sukuna handed back to him, Marco and Armin finishing off the conversation for him. Eren’s too busy seeing red to even pay attention, at the thought of Ricky James. 

Eren's never met Ricky James. But he knows far too much. He’s read every Wikipedia page, scoured every tabloid, fan page, supporting comment, Reddit thread about him. 

One of the worst parts of being famous? People can comment, theorize, and speculate about every aspect of your life. Even worse? That there’s a breadth of information to pit yourself against, to pinpoint all the perfections and none of the flaws for his self-imagined competition.

And Eren hates to think that way, to take the words of teenage girls and tabloid writers to heart, but there’s a small part of him that feels sick from the entire ordeal. Because everyone thinks Ricky James is better for you than him. 

He’s a twenty year old singer-songwriter from a small town in New York, who's recently been breaking into the acting scene. Like you, he’s one of the few premiere actors who has pulled in the industry who doesn’t come from a famous family. And like you, he’s charming and mesmerizing - beloved by the people. 

And ever since you both got cast in Little Women together - him as Laurie and you as Amy - and the press tours started all people can do is talk. And Eren, every self-preservationist thread of him gone - can only listen. Watch fans edit videos of you two being cute together for ten minutes, listen to podcasts where the two of you gush about each other's talents, see that Ricky was able to get time off in his schedule to go to your tour when Eren was stuck on Satellite Port. 

It fills him with rage. And it makes him feel less than. And every time Eren tries to shut the voice in him down, to convince himself that it’s not true and that you’re still at your best, he comes out short. Granted, a personal affliction for negative thoughts is easier to shut out. To convince himself that he’s making it up. Seventy thousand people affirming his worst fears makes it harder. 

“Wasn’t it their fault you got fired from the ensemble of Last Voyage? And Satellite Port?” Armin asks, remembering the tabloid blast from the past few months. 

“Yeah, well not her but the people around her. Her dad especially - they have so much pull, it’s insane. And-and they play mind games and shit, I couldn’t even tell you the half of it. It’s-” 

Right on cue, Hyla walks up to the four of them, a sickly sweet smile on her face. She’s wearing a long, willowing green gown and watches her stick her hand out for Sukuna. And Eren’s floored when he watches Sukuna purse his lip and give a polite excuse me as she whisks him away, leaving the three of them on the wall. 

Armin gets pulled off the wall by Connie and Jean who have returned with Misa, who is apparently a really big fan of Armin’s. And by how pink Connie is, giggling like there’s no tomorrow, Eren knows it's better to stay away from him to avoid any chance of second hand embarrassment. 

“I always miss this.” Marco says, a soft smile on his face. 

“Connie being a dumbass?” Eren asks.. 

“I mean, not particularly that, but all of us being together. It feels weird to be so far away from everyone when we’re all doing things so different.” Marco responds. 

Eren knows Marco far too well to be doing this. 

“Quit trying to psychoanalyze me, Marco.” Eren asks, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“That’s my job.” 

Eren and Marco turn their necks to find Historia in a pale blue dress, a soft smile on her face. They both rush forward and immediately wrap their arms around her, both taking a second to press a kiss to her cheek. 

“So what are we psychoanalyzing Eren about, Marco?” Historia asks, the two of them giving teasing smiles. 

“Nothing. We’re not psychoanalyzing me about anything. I’m fine.” 

“Y/N. Ricky James. Everyone being so far away, but her specifically.” Marco responds. 

Historia pinches her mouth into a straight line, the look in her eyes making Eren feel like a scolded child. If it was a different person, Eren would feel pitied. By both of them. But he knows them both far too well to know they’re the few people in his arsenal who would fight for him. 

“Ricky James. Huh? Seems like an asshole a little bit.” Historia states, swiping two ice cream cups off the tray. She hands the extra to Eren, leaning towards Marco as they share the other.

“You’re just saying that because you feel loyalty to me, Hisu. I’m sure he’s a nice guy and Y/N seems to like him.” Eren responds, his chest feeling like an anvil all of a sudden. 

Historia frowns as she turns to his side, her eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

“Yeah. I don’t like him because I feel loyalty to you, Eren. But I also don’t like him because he was friends with John.” 

Marco and Eren both clear their throats and swallow hard at the mention, the regret sitting in Eren’s chest for even saying that in the first place. On instinct, Eren wraps his arm around Historia’s shoulder, Marco following suit as they both rest their heads against hers. She sighs at the touch, squeezing both of their shoulders in response. 

Mentioning John is basically like saying the devils’ name for Historia. The music producer that she had been working with since she was seventeen and the one who all but pounced on her the second she turned eighteen. Eren thinks it’s disgusting that the same thing happened basicallly happened. Levi told him that he has forewarned him.

The two of them had made so many hit songs together, he’d basically helped Historia start her music career. When they got together that no one batted an eye. They were charming and celebrated - ignoring the fact that Historia was only nineteen and John was in his thirties. That Historia looked awkward and uncomfortable near him. 

Everything came crashing down a year ago when Historia got dumped, for lack of a better word, on the side of the street and left to a swarm of paparazzi after an argument she had with him. Ymir and Sasha were the ones who got to her the fastest, ducking her into a car, and hiding her for the time being. 

But in true Historia fashion, she was never one to be quiet. She wrote Dear John. Made art out of her pain, something Eren could only admire and love her for. Her effortless way of bouncing back, of jumping straight back into what hurt her for the sake of art was something only Eren could dream of possessing.

Something he envied when everything weighed so heavy on his mind. 

“I’d kill him if he did anything like that to her.” Eren states. 

“I’d help you.” Historia responds. 

“Speaking of, I haven’t talked to her in a while. Is she taking breaks with the tour and movie and all?” Marco asks. 

“She doesn’t take breaks. From the way she’s going, I don’t think she’ll stop till she gets what she wants. Which, you need that type of drive to do this. To get what she wants.” 

Historia brings her hand up to Eren’s shoulder again, squeezing. 

“Eren. When was the last time you talked to her?” 

“It’s-it’s been a while with the time differences. When she’s not performing, she’s writing. And when she’s done writing, she’s practicing lines. There’s not really any time for that and I’m not going to be the one to pull her back when she’s in the zone and-” 

“Eren. I’m sorry.” Historia says, her voice borderline pleading. 

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal-” 

“Do you know how rare it is to have what you do? It’s insane that two people can even like each other at the same time but to be in love, so fully and unselfishly, you-you can’t let that get away from you.” Historia says, her eyes turning red and her voice getting louder as she goes on. 

“Hisu. I-” 

“We’re seeing her next week for the awards and your birthday. Just-just tell her, okay? I’ll kill you if you let something like this pass you by. Or I’ll haunt you from my grave if I’m dead.” Historia says. 

“You sound like me.” Marco says, giving her a teasing smile. 

“Shut up, Marco.” she responds. 

Eren leans into their touch, their limbs all still tangled together, as he sighs into the air, trying to focus on the good. That they’re here with him, even if you can’t be. And that'll be you instead of them in a week. 

It doesn’t work. The sadness still creeps in. 

--

Eren closes out all the tabs of his laptop as he sees your picture flash against his screen, accompanied by his ringtone. He slides the video call open, the mere sight of you making his heart ache. 

“Hi Eren.” 

“Hi Y/N. Ready for your show?” 

“Eh. Almost.” 

Eren glares, narrowing his eyes at you as he waits for your laugh. You’re basically primed to perfection - your hair perfectly blown out, your sparkly silver dress pinned down, and your glittery makeup shining. 

“Okay, okay. I’m ready, I just wanted to call you.” 

Eren frowns, realizing that his shortcomings were so horrible, that they were enough to illicit a call from you when you were this busy. 

“Because I’m a failure?” 

“Eren. You’re not a failure. You-when have we ever cared what the Elms have said?” 

The Elms officially released their gold standard review of Satellite Port last night. Eren wasn’t expecting much, knowing that this was far from his best work, but the review was scathing. And the articles that followed were even worse. He’d spent all morning reading them, his chest burning and his head becoming a solid rock weighing him down with every last word. 

The worst thing that we see nowadays is a waste of talent. A true, self-actualized potential fall short. Our latest example? Attack on Titan star, Eren Jaeger. After garnering himself a total of three nominations the Institute last award season, it seems that the actor is on the come down. His work in Satellite Port was described as insanely mediocre, almost painful to watch knowing that this is the same boy who acted in the infamous Thank You scene - which garnered him his first Institute Award win. Eren is nominated for four awards at the Institute TV Awards next week - Best Actor in a Lead Role, Best Actor in a Drama Series, Best Scene, and Ensemble Cast - which will most likely be his last nominations ever with the work that he’s been putting out. We’ll see if Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman can wrangle him in place for the last season of Attack on Titan and salvage his career. 

“The things the Elms said about you and Armin back in the day were baseless. You- they just didn’t like you because of your parents. You’ve proved yourself over time and time again. I had all these things stacked up against me, there should have been no reason I failed and I did anyway.” Eren responds. 

He watches you frown on the other side of the screen as you lean forward, your eyes washed over in concern. Eren immediately feels guilty for worrying you right before you’re about to perform, trying to save face as fast as possible. 

“I’m just going to be upset about it today and I’ll be okay tomorrow, alright?” Eren asks. 

“Just today, Eren. I’ll kill you otherwise, you little bitch.” you respond, giving him your best angry look. 

Eren laughs at your profanities, which elicits a smile from you. 

“You kiss your mom with that mouth, Y/N?” 

“Mhm. And I kiss you with it too.” 

“You’re so vulgar.” 

“Wanna know something cool? Yesterday, when I was performing New Year’s Day at the start, the applause literally went on for n-” 

“Nine minutes. And then they cheered your name for another ten after you walked off for your outfit change.” Eren responds, finishing your sentence. 

“You watched?” 

“Don’t be stupid. I watch you every time you perform. I like watching you - the faces you make when you’re singing your songs and smiling at people - it’s cute. Makes it easier when I miss you so much.” 

He watches you sigh, your face contorting into a frown. 

“I miss you too. I-I’m really excited to see you next week.” 

“Me too.” 

He watches you finish off your routine - as you clip on your earrings and fiddle with the ends of the hair as your team starts moving around you, pointing at their watches to indicate that you’re going to go on soon. 

“Wanna know the stupidest thing about your tour, Y/N?” 

“There’s stupid things on my tour?” 

“Just the one.” 

“Please enlighten me, wise one.” 

“You sing New Year’s Day with a piano backtrack instead of playing the piano.” 

“What’s the point of learning how to properly play the piano when you’ll always be there to do it for me?” 

He feels his chest stirring at the words, even more when you blow him a kiss before hanging up to perform. His phone screen is left on your contact, the picture of the two of you making him smile. 

He closes out all the tabs of the reviews, replacing them with the live stream of your show as he crawls back into his bed. And when he watches you wink at the camera right before you start singing New Year’s Day with your piano backtrack, he knows its for him.

--

“Ymir. This isn’t even half convincing.” Eren says, trying to swat her hands off his covered eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t even know what’s coming.” Ymir responds, pushing hard against his eyes as she swings him into the little foyer. 

“It’s my birthday. Almost everyone we know is in town for the award show tomorrow. None of you guys have said happy birthday to me and now you’re inconspicuously leading me somewhere with my eyes covered. Oh, I’m dying of curiosity here, Ymir.” 

“You’re no fun.” she responds, lifting her fingers off his eyes. He’s met with the sight of everyone popping confetti in his face at the same time, an excited amount of cheers filling up the air. 

Mikasa and Armin reach him first, almost everyone wrangling them in his arms and smacking him on the back. Connie offers him his first legal shot as a twenty-one year old, which Levi confiscates in three seconds. Reiner rolls his eyes as he swings a sash around Eren’s neck, which elicits an insurmountable amount of laughter from everyone.

“Mother to be?” Eren asks, reading the sparkly cursive writing on the sash. 

“They ran out of birthday sashes. And giving birth is basically adjacent to birthdays, so I figured it was the best one. It was either that or a quinceanera.” Reiner explains. 

“A quinceanera is a real birthday dumbass.” Eren responds, shoving him to the side. 

Everyone’s too overzealous and excited to hand him gifts because they’re immediately sitting him down, handing him packed boxes. Hange and Levi gift him an expensive watch, the pair of them pressing a kiss to his head, before retreating upstairs to their rooms, arms locked together and whispering in each other's ears as they go up.

Reiner and Bertholdt give him gag gifts first - which are just framed pictures of every time he’s flipped off paparazzi - before giving him his real gift, their annotated versions of the original Attack on Titan script. 

Eren’s been a big fan of Reiner’s blocking notes since they were students together at the SHWA, because Reiner clearly has no conception of what the blocking notes are actually supposed to be. Instead of writing in his own staging spots and directions from the crew, he writes his own commentary on the script. 

Eren flips to the marked page, the big reveal scene, and finds Reiner’s handwriting at the button. 

Reiner: I’m the Armored and he’s the Colossal. 

And underneath, Reiner’s inscription. 

fuck. 

He flips forward a few pages to find the Thank You Scene marked as well, his handwriting on the side. 

Eren: I’ll wrap that scarf around you, as many times as you want. 

And Bertholdt’s commentary. 

yall fucking? 

Eren snorts as he closes up the script, giving the two of them a smile, as Historia and Marco plant a gift in his lap next, skillfully packed in wrapping paper with his face on it. 

“I’m not sure if I should ruin something so perfect. I just look so good here-” 

“Eren. You’re a five on a good day.” Ymir responds, unbothered to look up from the game of soccer she was watching on the screen. 

Eren frowns as he opens up the gift, a glass showcase filled with polaroids. The first is a framed picture, one of the first of the entire cast. Underneath, Historia’s handwriting is inscribed, loopy letters spelling out Long Live. Eren smiles as he sets it to the side, observing Marco's gift. A Maya Angelou poetry book.

Eren gives the group of them a smile as he scans his eyes around the room, noticing the only face missing. The only one he was looking forward to seeing. Marco grabs his hand and drags him up the staircase, as he whispers over his shoulder. 

“She left a while ago to set up her gift for you. She should be in your room I think.” 

Eren’s nearly sprinting up the staircase as he pushes open the door, a defeated sigh leaving his lips when he stumbles in. There’s a half wrapped gift on the bed next to you, where you’re face down and fast asleep. He can see that you’re still in your party clothes - the dress and birthday hat still stuck to your head - as you nearly drool onto his sheets. 

“Nonsense, Eren. We’ll just wake her up, she was really excited to-” 

“No.” Eren responds. 

Marco swallows hard as he looks over at Eren, jaw half clenched and eyes narrowed down as he moves around him, shutting the door behind him. Eren carefully yanks the party hat and the shoes off your feet as he tucks you into the sheet properly, the tears burning his eyes. 

He takes the halfpacked gift and note from the bed, shutting the light off, as he escapes into your room to open them. To take a second, to calm whatever burning, irritating sensation is ripping his chest right now. 

The gift is a vinyl, the cover art is the same as the tattoos that you guys got together nearly two years ago. There’s a note inscribed on the front, your messy handwriting on the front. 

Eren. Our music is the best music. Here’s to many more to come :D 

He turns the vinyl over to find one song on each side - New Year’s Day on the front and Invisible String on the back. There’s a list of untitled listed underneath them, clearly meant to be future songs you and Eren write together. 

And all Eren can feel is despair. The gross, disgusting feeling that sits in his chest and never goes away is going to drag you down too. 

Isn’t it?

--

Nearly twenty four hours later and Eren’s standing on the other side of the red carpet, his palms sweaty and burning. He was supposed to walk out twenty minutes ago but his feet are glued to the foam, his throat dry. 

It always comes at the worst times. His birthday party, when he saw Zeke at Christmas, when he met Ricky James at the cocktail hour and then Gianna right after. 

Every little thing that’s been bothering Eren for the past day, the past few months is tumbling into this moment, where he’s staring at the red carpet and hearing the cameras flash behind the curtain but can’t summon his feet to move beyond them. 

Eren’s embarrassed. He’s ashamed. He’s trying. He’s trying to swallow it, trying to move his feet, to get out there to stand next to you. 

It’s humiliating. 

He feels a tap on his shoulder to find Armin at his side, readjusting the collar against his neck as he gives him a smile. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Min.” 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

Eren tilts his head to the side as Armin gives him a smile, before turning his face back towards the curtain. 

“I hate walking on red carpets. But they’re easier when friends do them with me.” Armin responds. 

Eren sighs, a third person now catching on to him, as he stares at his shoelaces, evenly knotted against his leather shoes.

Is he that obvious? It's like it's written on his forehead.

“So, Eren?” 

“I-I don’t know if I can be a good friend right now, Armin. I think I should leave and-” 

“You’re the only friend I need. Just come on, okay? No one’s going to talk about Satellite Port, especially if I’m with you. They’re just going to try and wrangle spoilers out of you for the next season.” Armin responds, holding his hand out. 

Eren look down at his outstretched hand, blue eyes filled with such a vote of confidence that Eren agrees, stepping out into the flashing lights with Armin at his side, the two of them gaining a considerable amount of cheers as they walk out. 

Eren walks down with Armin, snapping a few pictures, before stopping to talk to a few of the interviewers, letting Armin carry the bulk of the weight as his mind spins in thirty different directions. About where he’s standing, if he should leave, how he’s a fraud and everything in between. 

Armin tugs him nearly all the way to the end as he pushes him into the auditorium, Eren’s chest heaving as he settles into his seat in between Hange and you, though your seat is still empty. 

“Eren. You okay?” 

Eren gives a halfhearted nod as Hange and Levi pinch their eyes in his direction, sharing a look, before leaning back in their chairs. Hange’s hand is squeezing his shoulder, which is all he tries to focus on as more people start piling in - cameras, lights, sounds getting brighter and brighter. 

Eren feels a tap on his shoulder to find you at his side now, a big smile on your face. 

“Oh my god. The interviewers out there were so fun.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I really liked them.” 

He feels you pull for his hand, nestling it under the pleats of your dress, obscured from the public view, as you squeeze his hand three times. Eren tries to ignore the pounding, burning, twisting happening in his mind as he focuses on the announcer, giving his opening monologue. He’s clearly doing a bit of crowd work as he’s walking around, pointing and poking fun at the stars around him. 

And Eren’s worst fear is self-actualized when he walks over to the two of you, his voice booming in his ears as the lights flash in his face. He can feel Hange’s grip on his shoulder tighten as he starts talking. 

“Here we have an international pop-star, Y/N L/N. Originally a small town girl from Canada, her soft spoken love songs, phenomenal acting, and insane dance act have left no heart untouched.” 

Eren looks over to find your cheeks pink, a big smile spread on your face. He can’t help but smile - thinking about you crying in your room after your first panels to be what you are now. 

“And you. What’s your name again? It’s sweet they let fans sit with stars now.” the headliner asks him, eliciting a large amount of laughter from the crowd as he walks on. 

Eren swallows hard, his eyes and throat burning as he sounds echoes in his ears. 

It’s funny. It’s just a joke. It’s a joke because it’s funny that no one knows who he is. It’s funny because he’s no one compared to you and-

“I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.” Eren says, standing up and walking out. 

“Eren.”

He shakes your fingers off his wrist as he nearly springs out, loosening the tie around his throat and yanking the heavily starched collar around his neck. And it’s back. That sickening, sickening feeling in full flesh. The block in his chest, that’s stopping the breath from reaching his lungs - making his legs feel like lead, making every part of his brain feel heavy and his arms feel loose. 

Eren reaches for the closest room, an open bar playing a video of the ceremonies as he settles onto the bench, head pressed against the concrete as he murmurs out for a glass of water. 

Eren stays there - trying to feel the concrete cold against his forehead, his breath making his entire chest tremble, and his knuckles pressed white. He feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and lifts his head expecting Hange. 

Instead, he finds an older man - nearly in his fifties with gray hair smiling down at him. 

“Eren. It’s nice to see you again.” 

Eren lifts his head, trying to rack his fried brain from where he knows him. 

“You know, Eren. We’ve been in the same room hundreds of times. Yet, we’ve barely talked for two minutes.” 

“Ss-sorry. I don’t mean to-” 

“You and I could be really helpful to each other.” 

He slides over his card, the name gleaming back at him as the memory comes back. Years ago, at that panel, where he met him the first time. Scott Clarkson, the Stone Studios producer. 

“If you want your reputation back, if you don’t want to be the butt of the joke anymore, if you want to be the one talked about next to her instead of Ricky James, you’d give the number a call. Instead of ripping it half on principle this time.” 

Eren watches him slide off the bench, a smile pressed on his face, as he turns his face back to the screen, watching you accept the Best Actress in a Drama Series Role. He looks back down at the card, the silver shine reflecting on his face. 

Eren tucks it into his pocket. And calls the next day. 

It's the worst mistake he makes.

--

next part

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