#Basin Reserve

[crudlynaturephotos]

[thorsenmark]

Slowing Down to Enjoy the Beauty at Mono Lake by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While walking around the South Tufa area at Mono Lake with a view looking to the east to tufa towers and other formations present. Mono Lake-42

[worldoceansday]

Coastal communities are the most at risk of climate impacts.

The Ocean give us a lot but we give it very little in return. "Awaken new depths." World Oceans Day 2024.

[reasonsforhope]

Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds

Article | Paywall free

When lightning ignited fires around California��s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”

Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.

“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.

Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.

Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.

Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.

Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.

It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”

... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”

-via Science, December 1, 2023

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — IDOL! GOJO X HAIRSTYLIST! READER

“Boss! Your favorite client is here!”

Hurriedly, you wipe your damp hands off on your apron and frantically tidy your hair in the mirror. Then you muss it back up. Then you smooth it down again. 

How messy is too messy? You want to hit that effortless cool factor of looking like you don’t care, but just enough. 

You don’t have time for this! He’s going to be here any minute! 

“He’s not my favorite customer,” you scold your receptionist. 

“I’m not?” Says a voice behind you. “Aw, you wound me.” 

He’s not just about to arrive. 

He’s already here. 

Gojo Satoru had always operated on his own schedule. You slowly turn to greet all 6 feet and 3 inches of him, grinning like an idiot. Next to him his manager looks extremely apologetic. 

“I’m so so so sorry,” she rushes out before you can manage to say anything. “I know our appointment was later, but it’s an emergency. Can you please make an exception?” 

You don’t even have to consider it. Gojo’s company is a regular, and that makes them VIP. Especially combined with the fact that Gojo tips three times the actual price of whatever service you provide him, you’d kick your own sister out of the salon to get him booked. 

Thank god your last appointment just left. He follows you to the usual room you reserve for important guests. He’s characteristically nonchalant, whistling as he walks, hands shoved into his pockets. 

His roots are a little grown out, you notice. 

Gojo likes to tell his fans that his signature icy white hair is all natural. “Grows out of my head like that,” he says with a wink. 

No one believes him, of course, but they all indulge him. There has never been a single soul who’s immune to Gojo’s charm, besides poor beleaguered  Utahime, who’s banned him from all of the sets she works on. 

His hair is an important part of his image, so you always make sure to take special care of him. That, and the fact that you just have a soft spot for him.

“Did you miss me?” Gojo asks as you shampoo his hair. His eyes are closed, soapy hair still lying in the basin unwashed as you freeze. 

So much. 

More than you can imagine. 

Rather than be honest, you laugh and poke his cheek. “Who’d miss you, you overgrown man baby?”

“I dunno,” he says, poking his tongue out at you. “I feel like you’d miss your favorite customer.”

Your face heats up. 

“You’re not.” 

“Uh-huh,” he says. “And my hair isn’t black underneath all this bleach.”

[inky-duchess]

Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: Tea

This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI. I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.

Today will be focusing on the rules of tea with this time period.

Tea was a staple in society, not only as a comforting beverage but as a social gathering beset by strict rules. Etiquette at tea is not only important for guests but is a sign of respect to one's host.

High Tea vs Afternoon Tea

You're reading both terms and you're thinking high tea is the formal version and afternoon is informal. In fact, no. It is the opposite. High tea was actually served far later, about 6pm/7pm and focused on more savoury, substantial dishes. High tea was more of a lower class tradition, designed to fill the stomachs of hungry workers. The word "high" is derived from the tall tables used. Afternoon tea is served at 4pm, designed to fill the gap between lunch and dinner. Afternoon tea is served at low tables with all the guests seated and involve a lighter meal, more nibbles than anything.

Hosting and Attending Tea

Tea is an event that happens every day, it's not an excuse for a snack, it's a ritual. One can have tea served in one's own home or at the home of a friend. One must be invited to tea, one can't just show up and expect to get fed. Tea was typically served in libraries or drawing rooms and done times outside in the gardens if weather permits. One had to dress for tea usually in comfortable but appropriate clothing. Men would wear suits, women would wear tea gowns or a simple gown - keeping their hats upon their head, if they are visiting. Tea was not poured by the footman but by the host or if it is a large party, by one assigned guest. The hostess or designated tea pourer would serve themselves last.

The Tea Set

Tea sets are highly coveted and much remarked upon at tea. One would usually inherit a service (that's what the collection was called) or be gifted it at one's wedding. Services would all match and most households had different kinds, the best usually reserved for important guests.

Teapot: the tea pot held the hot water and tea leaves was was usually made of china and decorated.

Cups: the cups were generally low, shallow.

Saucer: a small plate for the cup to rest on

Tea cannister: where dried tea leaves would rest until needed.

Sugar bowl: was a small container made of china with a cover to protect the sugar from moisture.

Milk jug: a container for the milk

Slop basin: was a porcelain dish used for disposing tea leaves left behind with the dregs of tea.

Tea spoon: small spoon used to stir tea

Side Plate: small serving plate used for food.

As you might have noticed, other than a tea spoon, cutlery is not listed. There would be a spoon for jam and a knife for a scone, most food was designed to be eaten with one's hands.

There is also one instrument not listed here and it's the most recognisable thing at afternoon tea.

The Tiered Tray

The tiered tray is a set of trays stacked upon one another holding on each one, a different course. Sandwiches and savouries were served on the bottom (Favourites include smoked salmon, cucumber, cress, egg salad sandwiches), scones on the second and sweeter delights served on the top (sponge cake, macaroons, pastries etc). One would begin ay the bottom and work one's way upward.

Making the Perfect Cup of Tea in the Edwardian Era/Belle Epoque/Gilded Age

Disclaimers: Let's make one thing clear. Tea is not prepared one way for all. Tea is culturally important across the world and every culture has their own rules about how tea is consumed and served. There's no one right way.

I will be discussing the English way of brewing tea in this post.

As mentioned before, tea is held in a cannister before use. Tea leaves were added to the hot water and lightly stirred.

Controversially for most people, milk was commonly added first.

One would then set a strainer in one's cup, tilting the pot. The strainer will catch the leaves and leave your cup almost tea-pulp free.

With the tea added, one could add in sugar. The trick is not to make a show about it or be too loud. One simply should gently turn your spoon from the 6 o'clock position to the 12 o'clock position. Also, the spoon rests on the saucer when not in use and doesn't stay in your cup.

When drinking your tea, put your pinky down. That's an American myth. Simply lift your cup to you, lifting the cup to your mouth by the handle. Saucers are not lifted unless your cup is far away. Don't slurp it, there's plenty more where that came from.

Etiquette at Tea

Afternoon tea is for light conversation, do avoid heavy topics.

Listen attentively when being spoken to.

Don't talk with your mouth full or stuff your mouth. Typically everything should be polished off with 2-3 bites.

Gloves should be removed at tea because one is eating with their fingers.

If one is leaving the table to go to the bathroom or a breath of air, simply turn to your neighbours and excuse yourself. No explanation needed.

Napkins should be removed from the table and set across one's lap when one is sitting down. When finished with tea, set it beside your plate before you rise.

Also you daub, not smear.

Don't cut your scone but break it.

Don't lick your fingers.

Don't bang the spoon on the side of the cup.

Also there's no dunking biscuits into your tea. It's just not done at afternoon tea.

Never thank the staff for fetching anything - or at very least, don't be overhead doing so.

Always say your goodbyes to the hostess and compliment the tea, even if you had a rubbish time.

Also most importantly, never criticise somebody else's manners. That's the height of rudeness.

[mxtxfanatic]

Just posting some svsss quotes from the extras:

After Luo Binghe finished reading, he said, “As for this disciple, he never could have forced you like this. If Shizun merely furrowed his brow, this disciple wouldn’t have been able to continue. How could I let Shizun sob like this yet still not stop? The depiction here is a bit unrealistic.”

Not only was it unrealistic... It was OOC. Completely OOC— OOC all the way off the map!

—Chapt. 29: Regret of Chunshan and Song of Bingqiu

Just for funsies:

“Luo Binghe, even though this master has allowed you to... I never allowed you all this variety,” Shen Qingqiu said in a warning tone.

Luo Binghe started. “Oh. This disciple understands.”

He looked a bit disappointed, but he didn’t push the issue. Now Shen Qingqiu was the one feeling uneasy.

Luo Binghe had never made any requests of him when it came to these matters. Because of his lackluster skill, he was always cautious in the extreme, and he even somewhat capitulated to Shen Qingqiu. Now he had finally acquired some instructional materials and found a bit of self-confidence, hoping to try them out together, only for Shen Qingqiu to toss a basin of cold water over his head...

Shen Qingqiu squirmed in his seat. After a while, he finally picked up his fan to cover his face and said with some reserve, “How do you want to do it?”

—Chapt. 29: Regret of Chunshan and Song of Bingqiu

And wow, would you look at that:

Their limbs were intertwined, both of them sticky with hot sweat. Luo Binghe’s waist and back shone with moisture, and Shen Qingqiu nearly couldn’t hold on with his legs alone, so he hooked his arms around Luo Binghe’s neck to stop himself from sliding down. This drew them even closer, until the space between them was practically nonexistent, and he left a smattering of passionate kisses on Luo Binghe’s face in encouragement.

—Chapt. 32: Wedding

It’s almost as if… Shen Qingqiu is an active participant in wholly consensual sex with his partner. As if… Luo Binghe isn’t coercing him into sex.

When he woke up the next morning, Shen Qingqiu’s first thought was that he wanted to smash himself to death against that extremely well-developed short-haired beast on Qing Jing Peak.

He swore up and down that he’d lost his entire life’s worth of face last night. He absolutely couldn’t suffer another moment more embarrassing than that!

—Chapt. 32: Wedding

It’s almost as if Shen Qingqiu’s only issue is that he thinks the loss of control he experiences as a result of his passion for his husband (!!!) is embarrassing—but an embarrassment he’s willing to live with in exchange for unconditional love.

[pedge-page]

For piss kink I think it would be a good scenario to have Joel and reader staying at a hotel and having to share a bathroom. They get back from a night out and she has to go but unfortunately so does he. She sits on the toilet and goes while he aims in between her legs.

Shared Room

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: PISS KINK, 18+ ONLY

Your date weekends out with Joel are usually filled with great music on the road, drunken grinding on each other in a bar, and shared insatiable sex in the hotel room booked for the two of you.

Except this weekend, Joel’s truck needing maintenance on the side of the road for 4 hours, radio shorted out, the bars were packed with too many other drunk “just turned 21 year olds” barfing on one another, and hotel reservation canceled last minute for overbooking wasnt exactly the fun you had planned.

You’re exhausted, hungry, and above all, need to go relax in a private bathroom that didn’t involve the rest of the world going to shit around your day.

Joel ALSO was looking forward to it.

Now checked into a dingy motel, more drunk than you had intended because you were trying to have a good time and not get annoyed by the kids in the “oldies” club. You to stumble to the door, clutching the big lump of a man, desperate to make it in and to the toilet before you end up looking like a kid peeing herself.

Joel gave you one look, seeing the way you sway back and forth crossing your legs, and narrows his eyes. You narrow yours too, and peek his crotch and his little inward flinches, before back to his gaze. A moment of silent passes before he’s turning the key, and you’re both shoving passed the other barring into the hallway in the dark, punching around to find the bathroom door. Joel’s already unbuckling his pants but you luckily slide your skirt and panties down in one swift motion and sit your ass on the toilet in front of him.

“Fuck!” He shouts in defeat. 

You smile triumphantly, but also in relief, as your liquids rush out of you with just the nick of time.

His eears twitch at the sound of your piss trickling into the toilet loudly, splashing the water and echoing the entire bathroom. 

He doesn’t stop the frantic, now slightly angered, tearing of his jeans down. “Spread.”

You stare up at him with big eyes, unsure yet curious as your thighs part. He fists his slightly limp cock and aims it towards the narrow slit of the basin before sighing, and a rush of yellow urine shots from his slit down into the toilet.

“Hey!” You shout, but don’t dare move as your shared pee fills the toilet.

“Lift your shirt,” he says, grinning as he steadies himself.

You ball your top and grasp it between your teeth, revealing your breasts pressed tightly in your pull up bra.

You hum, watching him stand above with his cock in his hand, the stead rush of both of your filled bladders emptying together.

You try not to lick your lips at each twitch of his dick, slowly hardening under your gaze, leaning back to get a full appreciation of him.

He tugs up just a bit, and his jet of piss hits right on your exposed clit. “UFMM!” You gasp, nearly letting your shirt slip from your teeth, startled at the warm pelt of his hot urine splattering on your little nub just perfectly.

“Ahhh, that’s the spot, ain’t it?”

You nod, eyelids feeling heavy from the relentless pleasure stimulating your clit. He hears the stuttering of your piss start and stop, affected now by your little throbs of your cunt.

Joel pumps his cock and tilts his stream up to now splash all over your belly before forcing the last shot of piss between your tits. Before you could protest, Joel yanks his shirt off and shimmies out of his pants entirely.

“Get in the shower and clean your little tits off, or I’ll make you suck my cock clean since you wanna be a selfish little piss bitch.”

[nanamikentoseyebags]

I know i'm home

for everyone the scars on his body showed that for all his immense power, he was still human. for him they were an agonizing reminder that he would never let it happen again.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: just his little inner satoru finally finds peace, warmth and home, hurt/comfort, fluff

a/n: i've been thinking a whole lot about little satoru lately, here's the result of my reflections lol, hope you enjoy <3

The quiet, velvety night slowly descended to the earth, spreading out an endless blanket of dark sky, sprinkled with a myriad of shimmering stars, inviting the full pale moon to slumber upon it until daybreak. A light summer breeze penetrated into your shared bedroom through the slightly open window, filling every corner of it with a pleasant freshness while gently, as if by the hand of a lover, brushing the loose strands away from your face. The barely audible murmur of the leaves, intertwined with the lulling buzzing of night insects and the occasional trill of birds, produced melodies that any composer would have envied. You stood there barefoot, in his oversized T-shirt that reached your knees, leaning your arms on the windowsill and curiously observing the nature, engulfed in a captivity of a tranquil slumber. It was miraculous how, in this hectic and violent world, there were still such peaceful nights, reserved for the two of you.

You pulled away from the window, gently adjusting the thin floral curtain he'd hung so eagerly, almost on the verge of falling, a few days ago. Listening to the tinkling sound of running water, you tiptoed toward the bathroom, the door of which was slightly ajar. The moments of simple domestic intimacy were so rare yet so precious that his five-minute absence felt like hours of unbearable torture, while the desire to peek through that little gap and catch a glimpse of the dearest silhouette grew with each passing second. You reached the door gingerly, and, squinting slightly in hopes that you wouldn't make a loud noise, you pulled it toward you, widening the viewing angle and quietly peeking in.

Your face met the pleasant warm humidity. The lamps glimmered brightly, illuminating the white tiled walls, little pearl-like droplets still dripping down as if chasing one another in an unspoken game. Satoru was standing with his back turned to you, exposing his broad shoulders and strong back with his birthmarks scattered all across it as if he was a canvas and they were the drops of paint, placed there by the hand of a great master. His snow-white hair, sparkling in the light, shimmered in an array of colors, creating a subtle glow all around him. The misted surface of the mirror revealed the imprints of his large palm, which had rid of the unwanted shroud a few minutes ago, giving him a glimpse of his reflection. His left hand rested on the edge of the basin while the other firmly gripped the razor, moving expertly across his porcelain, now covered in a layer of shaving foam, skin.

Satoru remained concentrated, turning his head deftly and delicately wielding his razor blade. His celestial blue eyes were fixed on his own reflection, while his thoughts were elsewhere. Surrounded by an unusual silence, punctuated only by the gentle whisper of flowing water, he still heard far more than any human ear could. For Satoru, the quietest night, so silent and soundless to everyone, turned into a cacophony of noisy daytime sounds.

He diligently tried to keep the annoying thoughts and noises away from him, striving to mentally return to the pleasant moments of complete tranquility with you. He put all the unnecessary shaving items into the cabinet and bent down, rinsing off the rest of the foam and sending it down the drain along with his dark thoughts. Then he straightened, taking a quick glance at his face reflected in the smooth surface of the mirror and reached for the towel, as his gaze, surprisingly even for him, lingered a little longer on the scar, hidden behind the damp snowy strands that fell on his forehead, and then slowly moved to his neck, eyes flickering worryingly under the blinding light of the bright lamps. He cautiously, as if he were afraid of himself, brought his hand to his neck, tracing the damaged skin with his fingertips and swallowing heavily. He reluctantly lowered his gaze to his chest, staring with revulsion at the vertical scar that so distinctly marked his pale skin.

He shook his head a few times, as if driving away the ghosts of his past, and nestled his head into the soft cloth of the terry towel, gently removing the residue of water from his face. Finally, he lifted his head and flinched slightly, meeting your gaze in the reflection.

"Spying on me?" he immediately turned around, in a moment replacing his startled grimace with his usual wide grin.

"Me? Never," you smiled sheepishly, not expecting to be caught red-handed, and opened the door wider, taking a couple of timid steps in his direction.

"I thought you were already in bed, you little liar," Satoru smirked boyishly, holding out his arms and inviting you into his warm embrace.

"I couldn't sleep without you, so I thought I'd see what you were doing here without me," you teased, wrapping your arms around his strong body and gently stroking his back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, nothing to make you feel neglected," he joked, sounding as confident as possible, but his eyes brimmed with all the colors of unrestrained sadness.

You slapped his back playfully, bursting into hearty laughter and burying your nose into his naked chest. His strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you even tighter against him as his lips left a light kiss on your head. Your palm slowly caressed his silky skin, tracing intricate patterns with your fingertips, feeling the hundreds of goosebumps running all over his body. You smiled, your index finger now drawing a small heart just where his heart was beating beneath it. Satoru shook his head, laughing softly and rolling his eyes, "You're so cheesy," but you could still feel his slender, long fingers leaving little hearts on every millimeter of your skin for several minutes now. You smiled blissfully, allowing yourself to melt into his tender embrace, forgetting time and plans, feeling only the comfort of his warmth enveloping you from head to toe and his heart beating right under your cheek.

You gently touched his deep scar, like a scorched mark resting on his flawless, soft-white skin. Satoru's breath hitched as he shuddered at the sudden sensation.

"Does it hurt?" a soft whisper, coming from your lips and fanning his chest with your hot breath, reached his ears.

"Of course not, silly, it has long since healed," he looked at you perplexedly, his eyebrows drawn into a thin line.

"No, does it hurt?" you stressed the last word, lifting your head and gazing into his wide-open hypnotic orbits, hoping that he would understand what you implied in that question.

His lips quivered, and his eyes flickered frantically over your face, trying to figure out if he should voice what had been languishing inside for so long. Small but obvious wrinkles appeared on his forehead, giving his face an even more baffled expression.

"Yeah...' he forcefully uttered the answer that was stuck in his throat, 'sometimes I feel his knife going through me all over again…,' his hand slowly covered yours, stroking your knuckles.

"Right...," you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing his hand lightly, in hopes of showing that you could understand him.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm a kid again and I relive all this stuff over and over again, isn't that silly?" he chuckled sadly, hiding his eyes, in which you could notice snippets of the suffering he had seen throughout his life. It seemed as if, as he uttered these words, he indeed turned into a little boy, only the mischievous smile that everyone around him was so used to seeing had now faded, and his eyes no longer burned with such a vibrant light.

"It's not stupid at all," you lovingly brushed his hair away from his forehead, gently stroking his cheekbone, "I wish I was there to protect you from everything," you admitted sincerely.

"You know I would have done anything to prevent that," Satoru gently took your hand, leaving an appreciative kiss on your palm.

You nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with him, just hugged him a little tighter, while gently caressing his tense back muscles. You knew how hard he was trying not to reveal his true emotions to you, to keep cool, but it was his hands that were nervously rubbing the fabric of yours, or rather his T-shirt, and the ragged breathing that caused his chest heave so anxiously that made it all abundantly clear.

"I often wonder what that little boy I once used to be would have said to me after knowing how much pain and death those eyes had seen, what he would have thought when he saw that with every step I took there were bloody footprints on the ground, stretching endlessly behind me, how he would have felt when he noticed those scars, evidence that I had let it happen to him" he continued after a pause, burying his nose in your hair.

"He would have been proud of you," you uttered quietly, "after finding out what you had learned and what else those magic eyes could do, he would have admired seeing what your body, now adorned with a pair of battle marks, was capable of, he would have thanked you when he realized how many people you had saved. And he thanks you now for the way you protect him, because he still lives in you."

Satoru fell silent, holding his breath, heeding every single word that he felt was healing his wounds, kissing all the pain away. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes, and exhaled softly.

You caressed his side reassuringly, leaving a kiss on his shoulder, "I just know little Satoru feels safe now."

"Yeah, with you, little Satoru feels at home.”

***

The silent, dark night was replaced by a bright morning, filled with the peals of the birds, causing the sleeping moon to give way to the brilliant sun, illuminating the soft features of Satoru, who had fell asleep on your chest, with its gentle golden rays. The warm blanket he had so carefully wrapped you in before you went to sleep almost slid to the floor, his arm lazily wrapped around your waist while your legs were entwined, preventing you from moving. You smiled earnestly, fingertips stroking his soft skin and once again covering his body with little hearts, while your lips were leaving little kisses here and there. Your heart was full, realizing with its every beat that your whole world was encased in this one person. You lay there quietly, staring at his slightly fluttering white lashes and hoping that in one of the parallel universes you had somehow met sooner, and both little Satoru and little you knew no worries, faithfully carrying your love through life, holding tightly to each other with your intertwined pinkies.

thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! &lt;3

art and dividers are not mine &lt;3

tags: @shamelessperfectionhideout @afortoru @keiskyutie @vagabond-umlaut @4sat0ruu @softsatoru @mitsuyeaah @playgrl0 @moonsinfonia @a-nuisance-called-sam @gojoshooter

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumpuary Day 17-18

Prompt: Headache (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

You had not been home long when Daryl came shuffling through the door. He had gone on a run, leaving at the ass-crack of dawn but they were back by early afternoon with two boxes of medical supplies as fruits of their labor. Then he had been helping to move the solar panels and work on the battery hookup with Eugene. You were certain he was thrilled about that. 

You knew he hadn’t stopped; hadn’t told anyone he needed a break. It’s just who he was. Help until the job was done. It was a given that he’d be exhausted. You’d let him relax, maybe shower, while you made a quick dinner. 

Except… he stumbled after closing the door, the tips of the fingers on his left hand pressed against his temple. He didn’t so much as wave before depositing himself face first onto the couch, long legs hanging over the edge of the cushions. If it wasn’t so out of character for him, you’d find it comical. 

“Uh, hi.” You leaned into the room before actually entering. “Rough day?” There was a muffled mhm. “Hungry?” Another muted answer, but this one was mm-mm. God, you wanted to laugh, but that would need to wait until you found out a little more about why your boyfriend came home and immediately attempted to suffocate himself on the living room furniture. 

You knelt slowly, rubbing your hand over the warm leather on his back. You were pretty sure the next noise was a sigh. 

“Are you okay?” You ventured, probing a little more while leaving space in between questions so as not to irritate the archer. You thought he might have said super and was a bit dry, but it was hard to tell with the thick fabric pressed against his face. 

You shifted to properly sit on the floor, moving your hand in random patterns over his back. Maybe if you were patient, he would decide air was a good thing and sit up to enjoy it. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. It took about five minutes for him to very slowly roll his head toward you, expression drawn and eyes squinted. Uh oh. Your Dixon sense was tingling. 

“What’s wrong?”

He visibly attempted a scowl but gave up after only a brief effort. “Head.”

Oh, the jokes you could make. Not the time, Y/N. 

“Headache.” It wasn’t a question. It was blatantly obvious after he’d given you a clue. Judging from his flushed skin and the tension nearly vibrating over his form, it was a bad one. “Okay, just a second.” Daryl didn’t normally get headaches, so you were unsure how to treat one in a man that never complained and despised feeling weak or vulnerable. As you pulled the shades and closed the curtains, you glanced back at him. 

Weak was a fitting word. If a herd plowed through right now, he’d probably thank them when they started to eat him. 

With the room sufficiently darkened, you crouched in front of him, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a barely there swipe of your fingertips. “I’m going to go get a few things for you. Just relax here until I get back.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, his arm falling away from where it had been tucked at his side. He let his hand hit the floor with little care. “Don’ need ta go outta yer way. M’good.”

A tilt of your head and tender smile should have been enough of a response, but just in case it wasn’t. “You know better than that. Sit tight.” You backed away from him in case he was about to offer any other objections but he surrendered and turned his hand with a thumbs up. 

You made a list in your head as you shuffled around the house. Pain killers. Tylenol would be okay but you were hoping for one of the stronger ones he’d been given when he’d broken his ribs. He was just as stubborn then so there were probably at least a couple left. 

While on your search, you were passing by other things you needed. Washcloths. The small basin that you reserved for cleaning him up when he came home bloody. And eureka! Pills! 

You contemplated getting him some comfortable clothes but the less he moved right then, the better. As an afterthought, you toed off your boots, quieting your steps significantly when you descended the stairs. If he noticed you bypassing him to disappear into the kitchen, he didn’t voice it. He’d need a glass of water to take the pills though you were certain he wasn’t beyond swallowing them dry. You filled the basin with cool water as well and strategically balanced your burden while padding back into the living room. 

Placing the items on the end table, you leaned down to press the most gentle kiss to the crown of his head. His eyes were closed but you were almost certain he wasn’t asleep.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to move around for just a minute and then you can stay still as long as you want. Deal?” 

“Don’ wanna.” He groaned, reminding you very much of a grumpy toddler. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, pulling up as gingerly as you could to motivate him. 

“Come on.” His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched against the throbbing in his skull. Those things were counterproductive when dealing with a headache but if you could get him to take the pills and lie down more comfortably, maybe he’d relax a little. “I got the leftover strong ones so this should start helping pretty quickly.”

“Okay.” He was so quiet and looked so small at that moment. You wanted to wrap him up and hold onto him forever. He held out his palm and you handed over the medication, barely getting the glass in front of him in time for him to swallow with the water. 

“Okay, now you get pampered.” You crawled to the far end of the couch next to your supplies and sat, patting your thighs. “Your pillow awaits, handsome.” You were barely able to stifle the giggle when he rolled his eyes before promptly pressing his palm against his forehead with a drawn out whine of ow. 

He stayed silent while stretching out on his back, his head resting on your lap. You smiled down at him while one hand dipped cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” You were gentle and careful when lifting his head slightly to place the cool cloth over the back of his neck. He winced at the movement regardless, making you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He murmured, but you still felt a pang of guilt. 

The second cloth now wrung out, you folded it and placed it over his eyes. When he melted deeper into the couch with a sigh, you grinned triumphantly. That part out of the way, you pressed two fingers, gently but firmly, against each of his temples and began massaging the area. You could feel the pulsing there, so too much would not be beneficial. You began to alternate between that and carefully scratching your fingernails over his scalp to stimulate blood flow. 

After no more than five minutes, before you even needed to rewet the cloths, he was softly snoring on your lap. Still, you continued, determined to make sure the headache was gone before stopping. 

An hour later, you had removed the cloths and stopped massaging. Your fingers carded idly through his hair as he slept. He had turned onto his side and pressed his face into your stomach, not a single line of pain left showing. 

Daryl so seldom got to relax that seeing him like that and just being able to take it all in was something you found you wanted to do over and over again. Maybe you’d start being more appreciative of the time you could spend watching him sleep in the moonlight from the bedroom window. You knew that was going to be your new favorite bedtime ritual. 

A deep breath drew you from your thoughts and back to him, his eyes fluttering but barely opening. 

“Thanks, sunshine.” He whispered against your shirt, back asleep before you could reply. 

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 @easystreet07

[crudlynaturephotos]

[thorsenmark]

My Time for a Getaway at Mono Lake by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A setting looking to the southeast while taking in views across rubber rabbitbrush, big sagebrush, and other plant-life present in the South Tufa area of Mono Lake. My thinking in composing this image was to angle my Nikon SLR camera slightly downward and capture a sweeping view across the foreground with the plant-life leading up to the tufa towers and hillside beyond. The downward perspective also helped to minimize what I felt was more of a negative space with the haze from nearby wildfires in the skies above. Mono Lake-44

[merbear25]

Spending the weekend at a haunted B&B

You wondered why the room was so cheap, but you two have been wanting to take a weekend for yourselves, so you hurried up and booked it. With the odd sounds that travel through the halls in the middle of the night, you and your man are in for an interesting time

CW: SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, some humor and fluff, Usopp crying.

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp

Luffy: He took some convincing to take this relaxing weekend. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend more one on one time with you, but he assumed that there wouldn’t be a whole lot to do. Even though he had his reservations, he did what he did best: finding the bright side to things. He’d be with you, which always made things better.

On the first night, you both fell asleep rather quickly—exhausted from your journey and wanting to sleep off the comatose inducing quantities of food. However, when the clock ticked into the late hours of the night, strange creeks sounded down the hall. With each one creeping closer to your room, you were the first one to wake to them. You nudged Luffy awake, telling him your suspicions.

Groaning at first, he absentmindedly shooed you away. Through his sleepy eyes, he saw the bedroom door inch open, immediately jolting him awake. Charging at the door, he abruptly swung it open. However, there was no one waiting for him to confront. Taking a step out in the corridor, you urged him to come back to bed and that it must have just been a trick his mind was playing on him.

With the disembodied murmurs brushing past your ears, shivers cascaded down your spine. However, the thrill of mystery was ignited within Luffy, letting the spark of adventure light your way through the remainder of your time spent there. After all, you needed to make the most of the weekend if you were going to unlock some of the wonder this place had to offer.

Zoro: He wouldn’t mind taking this weekend up at the B&B but don’t expect him to hold off on his training. That being said, there was a part of him that was looking forward to the facilities this place had to offer. Being able to unwind after each session held its own appeal and spending that time with you made it all the bit sweeter—even if he didn’t always say it.

Little things started happening after you entered your room: flickering lights in the bathroom and cold spots, neither of which were cause for alarm. With the sounds of hushed laughter coming from down the hall, you paid little mind to the minor inconveniences. Without giving these much thought, your first night blanketed you both. 

Although your dreams had a hold on you, the laughter from before infiltrated them. Waking both of you up, Zoro huffed at how inconsiderate they were being. Throwing his sheets off, the bathroom door slammed shut, causing you to jolt up in bed.

Exchanging puzzling looks, you trailed behind Zoro to investigate. Before opening the door, you paused, straining your ears to catch any sign of life on the other side. When the floorboards groaned, Zoro gave you a smirk. There was no way you were going to chicken out, so together you journeyed out into the darkness ready for just about anything, whether it was in your room or outside waiting for you.

Sanji: He was the one who suggested spending more alone time together, so when you brought up the B&B he was over the moon for the idea. Having a lovely, romantic weekend with just the two of you was all that he could ask for. Unable to contain himself, he began planning out how you’d spend your time there. With so much effort put in, you were truly looking forward to doing each one.

Everything was seen through rose tinted glasses: the antique furniture and the eccentric wallpaper—it was all perfect. As he was unpacking and going on about how excited he was, you went to check out the bathroom. A tiny spider crawled along the basin of the sink and - not wanting to call attention to it - you swept it on a piece of paper and tossed it out the window.

After having completed a few of his events, you fell asleep, breathing soundly as the moonlight casted through the curtains. When the time reached just after midnight, an alarming thud roused Sanji awake. Luckily, you were still sound asleep, although you stirred a bit under the covers. It sounded as if it came from the bathroom. Despite not wanting to wake you, the weight being lifted off the mattress drew you out of your fleeting dream.

Asking him what was wrong, he assured you that everything was fine. Watching him, you could see the apprehension in his step. A sense of unease painted the room the closer Sanji inched towards the bathroom. Bursting in, he promptly flipped the switch ready to tussle anything that’d dare bring you harm. 

Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he peered over his shoulder to give you the thumbs up. However, an eight-legged creature had found its way on his shoulder, resulting in an ear piercing shriek. Without knowing the full context, you screamed in both confusion and worry as your man came sprinting out of the bathroom, eventually shouting that there was a spider on him.

Usopp: With little to no convincing, he was packed and ready to go before you even had the chance to secure the booking. He adored spending time with you, but there was something special about taking a weekend get-away that made it that much more exciting. Looking up what the area had to offer, you both felt hyped about the trip.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the place. It wasn’t that there was anything fundamentally wrong with it, but it had a ‘house at the top of the hill’ vibe to it—chilling in some unexplainable way. Even if he had his reservations about it, you looked genuinely happy with it, so he made an attempt to push his doubts aside.

With the bed being surprisingly comfortable, you both drifted off to sleep quickly. As the clock in your room ticked closer to the witching hour, groans sounded throughout the room. Shivering, Usopp was the first to wake. He could see his breath as he sat up looking around the room, trying to figure out if there was a draft coming through somewhere.

The chilling atmosphere crept onto you, nibbling at your exposed skin. Rousing awake, you asked him to close the window. When he didn’t answer, you rolled over to face him and were met with him frozen in fear. Sitting up next to him, you gently touched him asking what was wrong.

As tears trickled down his face, you cautiously looked in the same direction as him. “Don’t you see it?” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Even though you saw a faint outline of something, you told him it was just his imagination partly because you were trying to convince yourself of the same. Although you were brave at times, his fear was wearing off on you. Wanting to prove to him that there was nothing there, you quickly leaned over to your bedside table to turn on the light.

A sharp and panicked gasp escaped him just before the light flickered on. Peering around the room, relief found the both of you. You slept with the lights on the rest of the night.

[winterriverwolf]

⸻ she's been left no reason

✦ wednesday addams x enid sinclair

✦ summary. nevermore's new pool intimidates wednesday due to her fear of water, but enid helps her overcome that fear by simply pulling her in.

✦ word count. 1.3k

“I’m not getting in.” 

Wednesday stood, arms crossed and face sour as she stared at the chlorine water that lapped at the sides of the pool. Nevermore had enrolled more sirens this semester than they ever had before, and because the choir started to get overcrowded, the school decided to install a pool so the sirens could have their choice of singing or swimming. 

The opening week of the pool was reserved for all outcasts so they may get the chance to use it before it’s taken over by the Scales. And today, Enid had dragged her girlfriend here in hopes of conquering her fear of water. Enid loved swimming; she had to, given her brothers would always throw her in the pool whenever they felt like it. She was the youngest and smallest wolf in her pack, so of course they picked on her every chance they got. 

But Wednesday? She refused to go anywhere near the water with the intention of being submerged entirely. 

The Poe Cup was a stab at revenge. She was focused on success which left little room to dwell on her phobia. And when she’d sit on the banks of rivers or lake piers with Pugsley to see if any fish were biting, she knew she wasn’t going to be swimming and everyone in her family knew not to test her when it came to a potential surprise dip. They cherished their limbs too much to try a prank like that. Even Uncle Fester…

And why? Because Wednesday Addams never learned how to swim. 

The one time she attempted was when she was forced to attend summer camp with her brother, and like the bullies who murdered Nero, a group of stuck-up normies held her down beneath the surface of Lake Chippewa. She had never been so close to death until that moment, and although death was a topic of wonderment to her, she did not enjoy that sensation in the slightest.

“Come on, Wednesday, the water’s fine!” Enid called from the far side of the pool, making her way towards the raven that was planted at the steps; the closest she was getting to the water itself. 

“No,” she snapped. Her eyes studied the basin warily, feeling her little black heart pound in her chest while she swallowed harshly, forcing down any bit of saliva that was being sucked dry in her mouth. She tried to keep her body from trembling as her black irises shimmered in trauma. She sucked in a quick breath and took steps back the closer Enid came. And when her girlfriend held her hand out, she bit back defensively, “I’ll drown.”

Enid suppressed a giggle, coming to terms with the fear Wednesday was actually hinting at. She knew this was an imperative situation for her, but she also knew that looking at it as something they had to thoroughly discuss was not going to make Wednesday’s correlation with swimming any better. So, Enid’s plan was to remain lighthearted but persistent with her. “No, you won’t! I won’t let you. Just hang onto me, okay?”

Wednesday shook her head like a little kid refusing to go to school. She was vain, sure, but her pride of flailing like an incompetent fool in front of the other Nevermore students was a sight she would never live down. She’d rather dig her heels in now than regret taking Enid’s hand later. She trusted the werewolf, not herself.

“Come on, it’s not that deep here,” Enid flicked her hand to rid it of any excess water before offering it to the raven once more, “I can stand right here in the shallow end, you don’t even have to swim.”

“Enid…” Wednesday’s voice trailed off before she felt her hand be taken by a wet one, which had her jumping in surprise, “No, Enid!”

But the perky blonde wouldn’t take objection for an answer and simply tugged her girlfriend until she practically fell into the pool, to which the chaos began. 

Through hyper cries, Wednesday immediately started to thrash, the water like ice shards encasing her skin while the echoes of muffled cackles and insults pressured her eardrums. Like claws, her nails sunk into Enid’s slick skin, and her legs churned wildly beneath the surface. Her chest felt tight and heavy and her breathing escalated into a hard pant. She didn’t realize how much water she was stirring up herself, which had her instinctively trying to pull away from the flurry of droplets that showered her and her girlfriend. 

“Wednesday! Wednesday, you’re fine! You’re okay! I’ve got you!” Enid tried soothing the smaller girl as she fought to hold her close, hoisting her up higher to ensure her breathing rights. She had to hold her breath at some points to make sure she didn’t swallow any chlorine water, but once her girlfriend started to grow tired, she was able to continue her encouragement. “See? I’m not going to let you drown, Wends.”

Wednesday, however, was still struggling to catch her breath as she stared wide-eyed at the blue abyss harassing her. She could feel Enid’s opposing demeanor and how her arms felt ten times stronger when they held her close. Her flustered cheeks were pressed into her guardian’s, who carried her further away from the exit, which had her clinging for dear life. But again, she was urged with a sweet delicacy.

“You’re safe with me,” Enid whispered into her lover’s ear as she slowly started to calm down enough to be recognized as Wednesday Addams and not whoever was pulled into the pool; though to Enid, she was the exact same.

“Enid…” Wednesday trembled in fear, whipping her head around to find the nearest set of steps. Her voice was low but surprisingly soft, “I want to get out… Please…”

“Wednesday, trust me.”

The raven found her girlfriend’s sparkling eyes when she bit her lip in uncertainty, and once she heard cheers from Eugene and Xavier from afar, her face grew hot and her body tensed up in embarrassment. “This is humiliating. Everyone is watching.”

“Let ‘em look,” was Enid’s reply as she smiled the sweetest smile she could muster upon the sight of Wednesday’s horrified expression. 

“I can’t…” Whether or not she was implying she couldn’t let the others witness her like this, she couldn’t relax, she couldn’t swim, or anything else haunting her treacherous mind, all she could say was, “I can’t do it, Enid…”

Enid scoffed before pressing her lips onto Wednesday’s and holding her firmly by the waist. Staying locked in, she laid her down to have the water comb through her scalp, which had her gasping in another fit of terror. But the werewolf never let her go and swiftly brought her back up.

“Why…,” Wednesday was breathless from both the kiss and the fear, “Why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to show you that you can do it,” Enid mused back, leaning in so that their foreheads were touching. “And that no matter what happened to you before, I will never let that happen again as long as I live, mi amor.”

It was like the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders and into the crowd of outcasts that surrounded them, because the only person that mattered at this moment was the one holding her with such passion that not even the daunting depths below could harness her away from trust. In the blink of an eye it was Enid and Enid alone.

Wednesday knew that she no longer had to fear the water as long as she had her girlfriend, her partner in crime, her soulmate, her one and only, her Enid Sinclair. 

“Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Enid giggled. “There’s one more thing I have to do before you say that.”

Wednesday cocked her head slightly with her infamous curiosity that came across more intimidating than optimistic. “And what’s that?”

“I have to teach you how to swim, silly!”

[storiesofsvu]

Whenever You're Ready

Rita Calhoun x reader Warnings: language, some minor anxiety, major comfort, lotsa fluff. Covers a bingo square for @prentiss-theorem along with being a pretty self indulgent fic lol. rita come take care of me when?!

Rita Calhoun was not one to leave work early. She was one to stay in the office until her stomach was grumbling, finally pulling her away from her desk only to set up camp at a local lounge to work for another few hours before finally heading home.

But today was not one of those days.

Today she was home before rush hour even began, dropping her things by the door, stepping out of her shoes and padding down the hallway to strip out of her clothes and step into a luxurious shower. Once the grime of the day and the city was washed off her body she went through her full skincare routine, careful to make sure nothing was missed. After selecting a rather lacy lingerie set in her preferred colour of green she wandered to the walk in closet, lips pursed as she fingered through a couple of dress options for tonight.

She’d been waiting for this evening for what felt like weeks on end now. Thanks to work she’d had to cancel the last of your dinner dates, and what were supposed to be lunches were exchanged for quick coffee hand offs in courthouse hallways. She felt like she hadn’t seen you all month and the feeling was mutual; tonight was the special night to make up for it. She’s secured reservations at The Palm Court for cocktails and dinner and stopped by a few stores on the way home to pick up a bouquet of lilies, a few of your favourite treats and a couple of nice bottles of wine for the plans she had for after dinner, those of course, that involved not leaving the bedroom for the rest of the weekend. Ones that would reassure you of just how much she cared, how much she wanted you around and how much she simply adored you, ones that would calm her own worries.

The two of you hadn’t been together very long, it had started out casual, a coffee here, a dinner date there, one night of martinis that ended in the bedroom and you both became very aware that you simply couldn’t get enough. The following week you’d asked Rita to be your girlfriend, she’d instantly accepted of course, and that was seven weeks ago if she remembered correctly. It seemed like clockwork that no matter how good her relationships were going it was right around now that they started to fall back to casual, to not committed solely to each other anymore. She knew her work was part of it, that no one really understood what they were getting into, how many hours she actually put in, not to mention all the functions and galas that went along with it.

Which is why tonight had to be absolutely perfect.

She finally selected a dress, slipping it on over her head as she padded back to the bedroom, smoothing the skirt of it out as she went. It didn’t take long for her to work through her hair and makeup, leaving the curls from the day in, but brushed out so they were a little looser, pinning a couple pieces back so it was off her face. She was swiping on mascara when her phone buzzed on the basin, dancing dangerously close to the sink. Placing the tube back in her make up organizer she picked up her phone, swiping open the message from you.

‘Running behind. I’m so sorry.’             

‘It’s no worry, I can push the reservation, just let me know when you’re on your way.’

Across town you watched as three bubbles popped up while she typed, letting out a breath at the message reply before you dropped your phone back down to the bed and simultaneously collapsed back into the pillows.

You were running behind, but that was in fact because you had yet to even start to get ready.

You wanted to go; you really did. You missed Rita, you wanted to see her, but you were exhausted past any point you’d ever been before. The last three weeks you’d taken on an extra load at work, covering the beginning of a coworkers maternity leave while they searched for a suitable replacement. You hadn’t realized just how much extra work it would be on top of your already crammed schedule, and how many more face to face meetings and calls you would be doing. You hadn’t had a moment to yourself the entire time, all you wanted to do was lie facedown on your bed in complete silence but even the Wi-Fi router was too loud for that. You thought about your noise cancelling headphones, maybe just five minutes with them on would give you the energy to get up and dressed but they were in your gym bag by the front door. Your body ached and no matter how much you craved the quiet, you weren’t willing to walk that far right now.

Your eyes closed for a moment, trying to remember the name of the restaurant Rita had picked for tonight and tears welled up in your eyes at the sheer idea of having to be out in the city tonight, much less surrounded by people, chatter, clattering of dishes, music, it made your skin crawl. Taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself your eyes scrunched open, if you wanted to bail on tonight, you were going to have to do it now, you didn’t want to keep pushing it off to the point that Rita was waiting at the restaurant, you would never do that to her. So you picked up your phone again, your thumb hovering over her contact while you debated between continuing to text or if you were going to have the energy to call. Eventually you decided that if you were cancelling, you should probably be more personable, clicking her contact and putting it on speaker so you wouldn’t even have to hold your arm up.

“Hello?” Her voice softly rang through the room and your lips couldn’t help but curve into a smile as your body began to let out some of the tension you’d been holding on to.

“Hey.” You replied, your voice muffled by the duvet, “Rita, I’m so sorry but I am utterly wiped, I can’t even fathom the idea of going out tonight. I feel terrible ‘cause I know you made reservations and were looking forward to it but I just… can’t. Is there any way we can reschedule?” You were once again, fighting the tears threating to blur your vision, hating yourself for even thinking of cancelling.

“Darling you sound exhausted.” Rita frowned instantly at the dejected tone in your voice, “and it’s not to worry, they won’t charge my card, I can move it to next week?”

“Are you sure? You’re allowed to be mad.”

“How could I ever be mad?” She chuckled, “I know you’ve been overworked recently; I was just looking forward to some time getting to spoil you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You let out a quiet sigh, “I did really want to see you.”

“Well, why don’t you just come over? Whenever you’re ready, we can do takeout instead. I would really like to see you.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment while you thought it over. You did really want to see Rita, when you said you missed her, you meant it. The mere minutes outside the courthouse were never enough to get your fill and you knew if you didn’t see her now it’d be at least a full week before you got the chance. You huffed softly, frowning as you thought about the commute to get to Tribeca and Rita spoke once again before your brain could fully scare you.

“Just let me know when you’re close to recharged, I’ll send a car over for you so you don’t have to deal with the subway or worry about hailing a cab.”

“You’re the best, you know that?”

“I do get told relatively often.” She replied with a smirk and you chuckled.

“Give me like, an hour? I should shower and it’ll take me at least twenty minutes to psych myself up for that.”

“Then don’t.” She shrugged, “there’s a reason I’ve got a huge tub here. I’ll even wash your hair for you, one less thing on the to do list.”

“Now you’re spoiling.”

“Exactly as I intended.” She smiled, “now, hang up the phone and enjoy your hour. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you.” You replied with a tired grin, hand reaching out to the phone as you ended the call, letting out a low sigh.

As predicted, you stayed face down on the bed for the next twenty minutes, finally pushing yourself up with a groan as you stumbled around the apartment getting ready to go.

Back in Tribeca Rita hung up the phone with a small sigh, as much as she had been looking forward to going out, the important part had been you and she could tell you weren’t up for it. Keeping you happy was higher on her list than being out in the city, besides, a night in would honestly be nice for her too, a little break from society and no risk of running into anyone she knew. She quickly finished what was left to do of her make up and was honestly thankful she wasn’t going to have to put a pair of Manolo’s back on, wandering through the apartment barefoot.

Out in the kitchen she poured herself a glass of wine, sipping at it as she flipped through the mail, sorting take out menus from the flyers she immediately tossed in the recycling. She sifted through the menus, thinking about dinner, it was still early enough she wasn’t hungry but it would be nice to have a couple of options to present to you later on. Her phone vibrated on the island, alerting her that you were ready to go and she replied that the car was on its way.

Twenty minutes later you were knocking on her apartment door, opting for prime comfort you’d changed into leggings, a soft tank and a thin cardigan wrapped around you, weekend bag tossed over your shoulder. Rita pulled the door open only a moment later, a soft smile on her cheeks as she greeted you, leaning in to kiss your cheek briefly as you entered the apartment.

“You look… gorgeous…” You managed to get out, eyes wandering her frame and she chuckled quietly.

“Thank you.” She kissed the side of your head.

“Sorry it was for nothing.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, ducking your gaze and she let out a breath, finger curling under your chin.

“It absolutely was not for nothing.” She insisted, “at the very least, it was for you and that was a priority last time I checked. I just hadn’t gotten around to changing.” She shrugged, softly, leading you into the kitchen, “wine?”

“Please.” You replied, eagerly reaching for the glass she was passing you, taking a heavy swig.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked gently, taking a sip of her own wine.

“No.” You huffed, “I want to forget about it. I’m just tired…” you trailed off, looking out the large windows at the city as it shifted from day to evening.

“Alright.” Rita’s hand squeezed at yours and you nearly tensed for a moment before relaxing, “how about dinner?”

“Honestly I’m not really hungry right now, I mean….” You faltered, “I am, I barely ate lunch but I’m almost past the point, ya know?”

“Well why don’t you just look through some options?” Rita asked, “we can order later, whenever you’re ready. If you were to eat what do you feel like?”

“Comfort.” You mumbled, dropping onto one of the stools.

“Like pizza?”

“Like homecooked goodness.” You replied with a huff, feeling embarrassment seeping through you, Rita was just trying to help and you weren’t exactly making this easy.

“Well that can mean a lot of things.” She chuckled softly, fanning out some of the menus in front of you, “Italian? Thai? Fried rice, burgers, I think this place has meatloaf? McDonald’s may not be homecooked but I think it’s pretty high up the comfort chain?”

“I dunno…” you shook your head, eyes darting between the menus and you could feel the overwhelming sense of panic beginning to soothe through you, tears creeping into the corner of your eyes again, “I just… I don’t know what I want, it’s almost like there’s too many choices. Oh god…” you dropped your head into your hands, trying to keep some semblance of control, “I’m so sorry. I’m in a mood, I’m going to be fucking terrible company, I should just go. It’s not you, I promise, I just need like…silence…”

“Darling… it’s fine.” Rita cautiously reached out, a hand gently rubbing circles on your back as the other swiped away the menus and pushed your wine glass closer to you, “take the bedroom.” She nodded down the hall, “you know how to work the tv if you want to zone out, have a nap, sit in silence, whatever you want for as long as you need. I’ve got some work I should probably catch up on, I’ll stay out here until you’re ready.”

“Are you sure?” You glanced up at her and she frowned at the misting in your eyes before she nodded.

“Absolutely. Take care of yourself before you worry that pretty little head with anything else, and you let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“I will.” You pushed yourself off the stool with a huff, scooping up the wine before looking up at your girlfriend, “thank you.”

“Of course.” She shot you a warm smile before you turned and made your way down the hall, the bedroom door closing with a quiet click.

Rita sighed softly, hating seeing you like this and partially hating herself for dragging you out of the comfort of your own home when you were down. She hoped that you had actually wanted to come, to see her, rather than just doing it out of sheer obligation and because she wanted you to. Picking up her wine glass she meandered into the living room, true to her word, she actually did have some work that could be done. Considering your request for silence, she opted to not turn the tv on for background noise and plucked her earphones out of her purse for music rather than risk disturbing you. She remembered the days of living with obnoxious roommates or working for the DA’s office as a junior attorney where no one had their own private offices, they could be extremely overstimulating and she wanted nothing of the sort for you right now.

Across the apartment you’d instantly burrito’d yourself in Rita’s bed, how comfortable her bed was happened to be one of the few selling points that had gotten you to leave your own apartment that day. The memory foam topper let you sink into it with ease, feeling like you were on a cloud as you wrapped yourself in the high thread count sheets and fluffiest duvet you could imagine. You popped your phone on silent, tossed it on the nightstand and reached for the remote, flicking on the tv to scroll through shows until you found something you liked, making sure the volume was muted, subtitles already on as Rita preferred. It didn’t take long before your eyes fluttered shut and you were happily dreaming, finally beginning to recover from the hellish weeks you’d had.

*

The moon was high in the sky by the time Rita looked up through the window, her head tilting in near confusion at how much time had gone past. She had finished her opening argument, questioning for three witnesses and then gotten distracted by a book of crosswords before her stomach had started to growl. Glancing down the hallway she could tell that you’d left the bedroom light off, but there was a light glow from a small lamp and the television and she wondered if you were ready to eat yet or not. She thought about what you’d said as she moved through the apartment, packing up her work things so they wouldn’t get missed on Monday and began to peek through her fridge and pantry. While she knew she wasn’t about to whip up some masterpiece, she did spy a box of Kraft mac and cheese and she knew she could at least manage that.

She set about her work trying to keep as quiet as possible as she did so, music still quietly playing in her earphones while she waited for the water to boil. Rita opened the fridge again, eyes darting through it in search of the other cheeses she had, wondering if any of them would add to the dish, make it feel more homey for you. She settled on a mix of gouda, jalapeno Havarti and goat cheese, grating and chopping them into smaller pieces that would melt and easily mix with the pasta. It was done before she knew it, portioning it out into two bowls and tucking the bottle of wine under her arm while she managed to get everything down the hall to the bedroom. A gentle knock on the door before your voice quietly called out and she nudged it open.

“Ohoho…” she chuckled softly, “darling, you look cold.” You were still wrapped tightly in the blankets, an extra one tucked right around you, holding them up to your chin as you watched tv, curled in a little ball.

“A little chilly, I guess.” You replied with a tired smile, “that smells good, what is it?”

“Nothing spectacular, but at least I managed to not burn the house down.” She replied with a smirk, placing the wine and food down on the nightstand before she crossed the room, sliding the window shut so the cool breeze couldn’t get in any longer. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I’d left it open.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a yawn, pushing yourself up to sitting, “gave me the excuse to snuggle up.”

Rita refilled your wine glass before perching on the edge of the bed, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “are you feeling any better?”

“Kind of.” Your eyes darted to the food, “but I am definitely hungry now.”

“Alright.” She chuckled, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “well, boxed mac and cheese is about the best I’ve got, but there’s some extra goodness added in there, I hope it helps.”

Reaching out behind her she picked up a bowl as you shifted on the bed to give her space to settle beside you. You had of course, been sleeping on her side of the bed, the smell of her shampoo lingering on the pillow lulling you into a state of relaxation. You accepted the bowl from her, letting the blankets fall from your frame and your body broke out in goosebumps in the chilly air, your cardigan from earlier laying abandoned on a spare chair and you couldn’t help but shiver.

“Well now there’s no denying that you’re cold.” Rita stated with a knowing look and you couldn’t do anything aside from sheepishly smile at her, “hold on, but dig in.” She prodded at your side, earning a shriek like giggle as you smiled at her, watching her cross the room to the closet before you finally scooped up a bite of pasta.

“Oh my god…” you groaned over the first bite, “this is incredible.”

“Oh please.” Rita’s laugh came from the walk in, “you don’t have to lie to me, it’s edible at best.”

“No, it’s amazing.” You mumbled over a second bite, “you may not be a whiz in the kitchen but maybe this is your calling.”

“Sure.” She barked a laugh back, eventually emerging from the closet in a pair of leggings and a worn tee, in her hands her faved maroon Harvard hoodie for you to help combat the cold air in the room. “All I did was add a few extra types of cheese, I wanted to try and make it more homey for you.”

“It’s more than that.” You smiled up at her, swapping off the bowl for the hoodie so you could tug it over your head before taking the bowl back as Rita settled back on the bed beside you.

“Mmm?” She raised a brow, picking up her own bowl of pasta, “how so?”

“We had plans, that we were both looking forward to and that you were ready for. And I bailed.” You sighed, “and instead of getting upset, or mad, or being overbearing and demanding to figure out what was wrong you just let me be me. Hell you did even better than that…” you glanced up at her with a small smile on your face, “you took care of me when I didn’t know how to articulate what I wanted or needed. Sure, this is a meal a ten year old could make but it’s delicious and heartwarming because it’s you that made it with the intention of making me feel better. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” She smiled across at you, her hand cupping your cheek “and I’m glad it helped.”

“Anything you do will always help.” You ducked your gaze for a brief second before looking back up at her, “because I love you.”

“Oh sweetheart.” A warmth bloomed in her chest, happy tears threatening to fill her eyes as she leant toward you to steal a tender kiss, her thumb stroking across your cheek, “I love you too.” She murmured, pecking you once more before leaning back, “that’s why I was so worried about you. I know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks and I know how crazy that can get, I understand why you would want to isolate right now so I am incredibly thankful that you were willing to come over tonight.”

“As much as I wanted to be alone, being with you sounded even better.” You admitted with a smile, “part of me wanted to just stay home but something in my gut told me to come over and you couldn’t have dealt with it in a better way. You just… know me…” a grin took over your cheeks, “and I don’t care what you say this mac and cheese is fucking phenomenal.”

“Well, maybe it’s just made with love.” Rita chuckled, leaning in to kiss you gently again, your lips curving up into a grin against hers before you reluctantly pulled away.

The two of you relaxed into the headboard, letting out happy sighs as you finally had the chance to fully divulge into dinner. Rita flicked the volume up on the television, glancing your way to make sure it wasn’t too loud or disturbing before she returned to her food, her free hand squeezing softly at yours between bites. There was no doubt from either of you, this was exactly where you needed to be, exactly who you needed to be with, and it didn’t matter that dinner came from a box.

A Michelin star chef couldn’t have made something that comforted you as much as this did, they would be completely unable to make something that tasted as good as this did, because it was made with love, by the person that you loved more than anything in the world and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————————

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[inkluvs]

best surprise ever

a/n: requested for my celebration on my old blog, posted about two weeks ago originally. i think @maddipoof betaed this originally? not completely sure <3 (0.4k)

cw: pet names . fluffy .

firefighter! james potter x reader

The door shut behind you, the click of the lock draining some of the tension in your muscles as you padded further into your house. There was a sort of inherent warmth that came with a place you called home. The kind that was unrelated to the crackling of your fireplace It was more than just a place you lived, though it had been for a while, it was the style of the life you shared with James. It was the late Saturday nights that turned into lazy Sunday mornings, your cheek pressed against James’s freckled chest, the thump of his heart vibrating against your jaw, and his soft snores the only thing echoing off of the walls in your bedroom.

There was water running, the occasional splash letting you know that James was the one using it. He was humming something. You couldn’t tell what, just that you’d heard it before. He sang like an angel so effortlessly and it was funny really, the way heat rose to his face whenever anybody commented on it.

“I didn't know you could sing.” James jumped from his spot in front of the sink, the fork in his hand, slippery from the soap, clattering to the metal basin. He smiled a moment later though, recognizing the cadence of your voice, the way it’d slow down, that bit of rasp at the base of your throat when you’re sleepy or relaxed.

“You’re home early,” He didn’t mean the words with any hostility, just an observation, and besides, you were. James had had his first day off for the first time in months and you hadn’t been offered the same courtesy, hence your decision to surprise him. It was heartwarming really, the way James chose to help you with washing the dishes. To take on just that bit more responsibility, so you’d have one less thing to worry about when you came home. In a way you thought it had to do with guilt – the guilt that came with his long hours and not being able to spend as much time with you as he would’ve liked.

“Thought I'd surprise you,” his lips twisted into an easy grin, the same one as before, the one he had reserved for you.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, holding you there for just a moment before pulling away far enough to whisper, “Best surprise ever,”