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etherealsworldvision · 2 months

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Singles Love Reading

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about “Care for Gaza” a non-profit charity aid on Twitter (now known as X) who are helping families in need. If you have the funds here are their PayPal and GoFundMe.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings!

Note : I’m going to give you a heads up…this ended up being a LOVE reading and not a SINGLES reading lol. I guess we are not feeling the romance tonight lol. Okay look — I DID ask for romance stuff and this is what I got so I hope you enjoy it still.

[ general message: saw 222 as I was making the layout so this number might be significant. I believe the numerology meaning is: balance, harmony, spiritual alignment. You can condense it to 6 which would mean: domestic happiness, harmony, and stability. Rain. Autumn/Winter season. Airplanes. 123 ]

Pile 1

[ channeled message: “because I’m tired of being the only one playing by the rules, the world is unfair […] maybe it’s okay if it’s unfair in our favor for once” – Craig from Killing It. ‘Called it love but it was lust’, ‘It wasn’t love like I had hoped’. ‘maybe another time,’ ‘love is a complexity’. ‘If love can fade so can pain’. ‘Let your cup overflow with the love you deserve’.

Additional Confirmation: Seashells. Becoming a Sea Jelly. Prickly. Becoming a Porcupine. Sea and the Earth. Poetry. Disturbance. ]

Cards: 7 of wands (Reverse); Hierophant (Reverse); 9 of Wands. Snail; White Dress; Queen of Hearts; 8 of Hearts.

First thing’s first…this is a complex reading. This is going to be a different type of love reading. I’m sorry if you’re looking for a ‘who is coming in’ but if you still want to stay then please do. This reading does have romantic undertones but it will dives into love.

When I started this reading: I felt like I needed to protect myself — bolt all the doors, close all the windows, triple check the dozens of cameras around the house, and secure myself by hiding under the bed with a blanket wrapped around me.

There’s this profound grief/sadness/yearning/loneliness all meshed together in a box. I think this is your energy because I’m not getting another person. I could be wrong though. But the overall energy feels like the saying “the world/love hasn’t been too kind to you.”

I’m not going to sit here and tell you how to feel. Your feelings are 100% valid because for some reason people probably told you how to feel which made things worse. Honestly all I can give is a virtual hug.

Honestly maybe you’ll find love in this reading [not romantic wise! I meant like a little bit of softness for your day. Idk maybe I’m rambling]. It just feels like you need a blanket and a warm cup of your favorite drink. Some of you might like apple cider with extra cinnamon. Maybe a nice cup of coffee or (ginger) tea with some sugar. Or it’s not physical warmth you’re after but, just this once, inner warmth.

This emptiness you have isn’t something to be taking lightly, that is for sure. It should be held with recognition and upmost delicacy. You aren’t difficult to be loved.

Some of you know this while others may find difficult: you are deserving of love. Some of you are probably groaning and rolling your eyes. I wanted to say it again just in case. I’m also sending you lots of love and support.

You know what, why should I stop there? You’re deserving of people putting effort into you, of understanding, of consistency, of acceptance, of things to be taken at a slower pace. You deserve a love that is supposed to feel like your favorite drink or food. I think, most importantly, you deserve the recognition.

If you can find a healthy outlet please do. I know this reading is probably chaotic but I think it’s supposed to validate how you feel. There was another that came in but it was a bit of blur so I think that’s a sign to leave this reading as is. I’m rooting for you pile 1 and sending many hugs with a lot of love! 💕

Pile 2

[ Channeled Messages: ‘We never realize how frozen we are until someone melts our ice’ ; ‘We know what we are, but not what we may be’ ; ‘Don’t waste a second of your time convincing other people your worth’.

Additional Messages: 111, Broseph (Character from Stoked), Bravery, Strength, Talk, Valentines Day, Take a Break, Focusing on Materialism, Beach Vibes; H2O; Putting in the Work, Babes by Hockey Dad, Safe and Sound by Mr. Floyd Larry, Fire Placements, Sagittarius]

Cards: 9 of Wands; 8 of Cups (Rx); The Chariot. Transformation (Yumiko Kurahashi); The Soul (Emily Dickinson. Jack of Clubs; 8 of Clubs; 7 of Clubs

Pile 2’s, I have to tell you something: I restarted the reading. I reshuffled all the cards and took a ‘day off’ cause my tummy hurts :( and I wanted a break. I don’t know why I had to mention that but…hey, maybe you need a break for the ache?

On with the reading! For those of you who did or are taking a break from love, you’re taking the cool ~ approach. Now this isn’t a mind game approach. I genuinely feel like it’s because you ‘moved on’ from love. You’re just tired of the same ol’ people coming into your life and making you stressed.

I get the feeling you’re taking the ‘Broseph’ (Character from Stoked) approach. If you know him, you know that he’s very chill and laidback. He lets the waves come to him and living life in a relaxing fun way. This could be the way you’re viewing love now.

For some of you I heard “love/dating pool is shit, I’m going to do what I want’, which CONGRATS! You live your life, I’m very proud of you. You may also be taking a funny approach to your love life. I just get the vibe that: ‘love isn’t so serious anymore so might as well make the best of it by taking it lightly’.

Despite these approaches you’re also more selective and will put a boundary up. Again congrats to you! You’re at the point of, again, enjoying your life. I’m also getting a sense you’re putting more emphasis in your friendships. This is going to be a little deep.

For some of you, you may find the love you were missing within yourself through friendships/community. As in, the romantic love you thought would ‘fill’ the hole is not it. It was actually platonic/communal love that you craved. For other’s the love for yourself due to, soul searching’, basically rediscovering yourself.

Overall this is mainly due to people, mostly romantic, not being compatible with you. Like I have a feeling — during the summer time there will be in-depth soul searching. No, it’s not the ‘hippie’ type thing! Unless it could be we never know lol, it’s actually more of transformation of the old you. You’re entering a new part in your life.

Okay this is specific. I don’t know what Valentine’s Day did for you all but for some reason I think their gift to you made you realize ‘yeah…I’m breaking up with you’. Now this isn’t to scare anyone! This is like a 0.1% of you. I just feel like this could be how 0.1% of you will ‘entire’ this transformation.

To recap; despite the way you were treated and the people who were in your life. You’re now rediscovering yourself, your worth, questioning and finding the love you needed. You’re still open to love (in general) but more selective with the people. You’re now or will be letting love find you. Again you’re taking the Broseph approach lol. Have fun and good luck, I’m very proud of my pile 2’s :) 💕.

Pile 3

[ Channeled Messages: ‘If soulmates do exist they’re not found. They are made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and they work on building a relationship’ ; Release your mind, don’t become the hurt that they hurt you’ ; ‘Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.’

Additional Messages: 222, 232, 234, Cat, Curiosity, Watch Your Mouth by The Backseat Lovers; Cold Hands; Burning Candle, Wedding Fantasies, Prayer Beads; Traditions; Selenite; Blue Calcite; Rivers and Roads by the Head and the Hearts; ‘Might Have Been The One Vibe’, The Good Place. ]

Cards: Page of Swords; Empress (Rx); Tower. Ace of Diamonds; 10 of Spades; Ace of Clubs. White Dress; Devotion.

Pile 3, I want to say I’m so sorry for what you went through. There’s a sense of heartache and devastation that recently happened. I heard you might have gotten a call or this sudden new broke your heart. A part of you may felt drawn to pile 1 so if you did then please check that out.

My cat also wants to say hello. She’s actually hanging out with your cards. A message popped up in my head: you are protected. I also want to add that your pile is a long read.

For a lot of you I feel that this is devastating. You may have spent all this time nourishing, putting the effort, and pouring your love into something that wasn’t ’worth it at the end’.

For some, not all, I don’t like to bring this up and be this type of reader…but the news may have been about cheating. As for the others the relationship could have ended because of a huge dealbreaker; like traveling or different values. There could have even been a conversation about money that led to an argument.

Either way, there was a sudden break(up) and now there is grief. I’m not getting so much as to how to help. I think this reading is more about acknowledging your grief and a reminder that you will find like minded people.

Another thing; you may feel anger as well. It’s like a simmered anger. It’s there but simmering…it’s hot yet it constantly murmurs. It feels as if it could be towards everyone. For some it may even be towards the world. But for all it feels as if this anger is directed to yourself.

Okay there’s a big select of you that might have been in a long term relationship. I’ve been tiptoeing around this but it feels like you were so close and then this happened, and now what the fuck, right? Basically the rug was ripped from under you. It just feels like sudden devastation.

I’m not going to feed into your anger and your grief. I am certainly not going to bypass this either by singing Kumbaya and lighting up an incense.

Instead, let’s acknowledge this. You may be feeling angry, scared, all of the grieving symptoms. That is okay! This is going to be hard to hear but grief doesn’t fade. It stays, it lingers, it’s there. The only thing we can do is feel it but do our best to not let grief consume us. We just have to take it day by day in little doses.

This may even be a reminder to pour in that love into yourself. No this isn’t some “self love heals all” type of thing. I believe [the right and healthy] community/friendships can help you out here, but let’s not forget to pour into ourselves too. This can be by creating a safe space for yourself. It could be doing things you always wanted to do. It can be gifting yourself something or simply journaling and crying it out with ice cream.

I also want to say the love you poured into that relationship is no waste. It’s proof that you are worthy of love, that you are capable of love. You are a reminder that the love you pour is out there. You have so much love to give and now it is time to give that love to yourself. It is also a reminder that this love can also be poured into you by your friends and community.

Another reminder, because it seems to be prominent, anger is a reminder of your boundaries. Anger reminds us what we fight for, what we need to feel protected. Anger is a boogieman to society, which can become it if not handled in a healthy way. However, Anger can be justice if you learn to dig deep at the root. This is all I have for you today. I wish you the best 💕

If you liked this reading please like, comment, reblog, and share. And if you want to further support me then tips are appreciated on: Ko-Fi ; PayPal ; Venmo ; Cashapp

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot #tarot pick a card #tarotblr #tarot readers of tumblr #astro community #astrology #singles reading #love reading #love pick a card #singles pick a card #tarotreading #tarotlove

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devourers-of-god · 3 months

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Can you do what you hc their specific features to be like? I know we see their features but since it’s cartoonish I wanted to see if u have any hcs for how they look in detail

HI!! this is an amazing ask, ty anon :3

What I think the SF cast would look like irl!

I think this is going to be weirdly specific LOL

Sal

we all know half of sal's face is kinda missing.

idk if this is canon but I think sal would not have a nose, but it would've healed greatly.

I just need to repeat it but sal is not skinny. he is rather chubby and he has a little happy trail.

this man has braces!! his teeth must be a bit fucked.

his hair is fluffy but most of the time messy.

his skin is very hydrated.

i don't think he would have white teeth, and thats perfectly okay!

Larry

this man always has chapped lips, esp during winter.

yellow fingertips are starting, due of his smoking.

he has smooth hair tho, fluffy sometimes! nice to play with.

he has an eyebrow piercing. I just know, he told me ;p

he is tall but not taller than travis.

long fingers, smooth and gentle hands.

has the biggest dark circles you'll ever see.

tall and slim.

he has a very bad posture a feel like lolll

Ashley

long smooth hair. it always smells like its just been washed.

beautiful lips, she applies a tinted chapstick and it suits her lip colour.

pretty nails, most of the time painted.

cute button nose with clear skin.

long and healthy lashes.

her thin eyebrows are always in the perfect shape.

piercings on both ears.

cheeks are pink because of her blush.

her dark circles are always covered.

Travis (ahhhjfckadk...)

he bleaches his hair, we can see his dark brown roots starting.

crooked nose that sometimes bleed out of nowhere (happened to me ok)

he has heterochromia. also has a constant black eye.

long fingers and short nails.

scarred lip.

red eyes from crying a bunch.

beautiful skin.

very skinny and tall.

his lips are never chapped, he is extra careful with that.

smooth hair!! he uses gel I know it.

Todd

the healthiest curly hair you'll ever see.

he has droopy eyes with long lashes.

has acne and freckles all over face.

his checks always have a tinted pink on them.

he bites his nails so they are short and messy.

he's not very tall but has long arms.

smooth hands also, well taken care of.

the best nose type ever!! and its kind of a big nose.

hui I hope you guys liked it, I mostly studied what the all look like and make hcs from there.

my requests are always open! this was very fun to write!

#sallyface #todd morrison #sally face #larry johnson #ashley campbell #sal fisher #sf #travisphelps #sally face hcs #sally face oneshots #sal fisher x reader #Larry johnson x reader #Ashley campbell x reader #travis phelps x reader #todd Morrison x reader #sally face fanfiction #sally face fanart #sally face fandom

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lemonmaid · 3 months

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"It's okay to give up sometimes".

Y'all, I fell in love with Love and Deepspace, like, someone put their whole pussy into this game.

Warnings: male reader, sick/dying reader, Zanye being Zanye. Rushed. Angst

It was cold.

Well first of all, it was winter and (Name) was in a doctor's office, again. Due to the attack 14 years ago, (Name)'s lungs were almost destroyed, causing him needing annual hospital visits.

At least Zayne was there for him. I mean, he had to be there. As his friend and doctor.

"Everything okay doc?"

Zayne was quiet, "I would like to schedule an CT scan sometime today, your breathing is more rapid. I'm hoping we don't have any fluids-".

Zayne pulled out (Name)'s medical history file, rereading it.

"Is everything okay Zayne?".

"You'll be fine if that's what you're worried about".

(Name) shooked his head, "im not really worried about me, I'm worried about you".

"Don't he. I'm healthy".

(Name) sighed, biting his lip, "it's... fine.... I understand that I will-".

"Don't talk like that, anyways, you have a CT scan this afternoon. Let's go get lunch together".

(Name) and Zayne walked into the Café, it was quiet for now, lunch rush would be soon.

"You need to start bundling up more when you go outside. You could develop bronchitis".

(Name) smiled softy, "whatever you say Zayne".

(Name) studied Zayne's features, his black hair, pale skin, his-. (Name) shooked his head, "Zayne... I want to ask you-".

Zayne eyes lifted from the menu, staring into (Name)'s eyes, "I don't like that tone, whatever you're thinking of, you'll be fine".

"Zayne.... I... I want to be cremated".

"Stop it".

"You know I don't have any family here, I'm not trying to burden you with a funeral, but-".

"Stop-"

"Zayne, we need to have this conversation-"

"Yes in the future we will but you're fine".

"Zayne, the CT scans will show it is getting worst... Zayne, I can barely walk up stairs now without having all the air in my chest suffocate me-".

"Then we'll just prescribe some antibiotics".

"Zayne-".

"I don't understand why you are being so negative, you'll be fine. You're going to be fine".

The two sat in silence, an occasional cough from (Name). (Name) grabbed Zanye's hand, "I want you to be happy".

"I'm already happy".

"It's okay to give up Zayne, I rather... die now, than be hooked up to machines and in pain... I think... I'm ready".

Zayne grabbed (Name) out of his seat, pulling him by the arm and walking out of the Café.

"Ah! Zayne! Where are we goinh?".

Zayne was quiet.

The two walked hand in hand in the streets, snow falling around them.

(Namel) stared at the beach, the mix of sand and snow, the coldness of the breeze, the light flurry of snow.

"(Name)"

(Name) looked at Zayne. Zayne grabbed (name)'s hand putting a small ring on his finger. "I... wanted to proposed next summer... here.....".

The two had tears in their eyes, they slowly fell into an embrace.

#love and deepspace #love and Deepspace x reader #love and deepslace Zayne #zayne x reader

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readychilledwine · 5 months

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You and I

Lose You to Love Me Pt 2

Summary - After running away to the Winter Court, reader has let go of most of her hope that she and Azriel will be able to be together.

Warnings - implied rebound smut, angst

A/n - so sorry this was delayed 💜

Peep Lose You to Love Me here

You sprawled the bed you shared with Kal, eyes shut tightly as you snuggled into his chest and the blanket.

You had left the Night Court three months ago, and were hidden well into the Mountain House. You hadn't originally planned for this though. The feeling of cold fingers tracing your spine, the feeling of soft lips against your forehead.

Viv had left him for Mor moments before your arrival, and in a state of need, desperation, sadness, Kal had taken you to his bed.

And it just simply never stopped.

In fact, his closet now held half of your things, your body products sat in his bathroom, your scent covered his sheets.

To be fair, the soft scent of snow and pine lingered on you. His clothing had began to dominate your wardrobe. His voice had become a source of happiness.

You both knew this was nothing compared to the bliss you had with your mates, but it was still bliss. Joy you both had thought you wouldn't find and didn't deserve.

“Why are you up already, snowflake?” He opened his icy eyes, looking down at you before placing a soft kiss in your head. “I know you are anxious, but Rhysand is coming to speak with us, not to rip you away.” Kallias was observant, you could not deny that. He always knew what worried you, what was on your mind, what you needed.

“It's not Rhys I'm worried about,” you leaned further into his hard chest, lacing your fingers with his before you continued. “It's seeing Azriel. And you having to see Viv.”

Kal hummed, “Would you like me to distract your mind from that, or do you need to feel?”

“Distract me.”

Kal had you dressed in a beautiful white gown with gems falling from the bodice to the skirts like snow. You were both waiting patiently, sipping a pear wine as you sat near a fire and he stood staring out a window with his hands behind his back. You almost jumped as the guards opened the doors, allowing Rhysand and Feyre in. Allowing Cassian and Mor in. Allowing Azriel and Viv in.

They didn't approach you two, not with guards clearly placed for protection. Kal was quickly at your side, placing a hand on your shoulder when Azriel moved to come to you. “I would suggest letting your high lord handle this, Spymaster.” Kal inclined his head to the table, watching as they all took seats and took the head chair closest to you. “Are your questions answered? She is clearly healthy.”

Rhys nodded, looking you over. “Come home. Please.” He was going straight for it. Mindset on a mission. “Nyx misses you. I miss you.”

“We all miss you,” Feyre said softly.

You shook your head, finding Kallias’s hand under the table and feeling him give you a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “You hardly even spoke to me in the months leading to my departure.” Rhys flinched at the reminder that he had pushed you away all on his own.

He would have normally straightened up, kept pushing his wants, his narrative. He would have normally defended himself, but he couldn't. He just nodded. “I know, and I am sorry.”

You could feel Viv's stare and turned to Kal, “It's okay.” His jaw tightened, eyes flashing to you before going back to her. “Go.” They both stood, leaving the room with the guards behind them to go talk somewhere privately.

“Does he love you,” Cassian asked quietly. “Does he make you happy?”

“As happy as he can. He cares for me-”

“But he doesn't love you,” Azriel quickly interrupted. “You're settling for a male who doesn't love you.”

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. “Leave.” He turned to all of them, including his own wife. “Go to your chambers for the night and leave us.”

“No,” Azriel growled. “She's my mate.”

Rhys shot the two of you a look, his eyes wide before staring solely at you. “Y/n, can we go somewhere alone?”

You just nodded, standing and waiting for Rhys to round the table and take your arm. You snuggled into him when he did, but froze as a scarred hand grabbed your upper bicep. “I meant every word,” azriel dropped his hold on you, sitting back down and tucking his wings around himself like a defensive shield.

Rhys allowed you to led him to your untouched room. He instantly noted how empty it was, how stale it smelled, how the sheets were fresh, but the bed help no signs of ypu ever having been in it. “Show me,” his voice broke. “Show me every moment where I failed you. Show me how to fix this.”

You shook your head, teeth holding your bottom lip in place as tears began to fall. “It wasn't just you, Rhys. I felt unneeded and unwanted,” he visibly flinched. “By everyone. You have Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, Lucien had his own friends. Azriel-” your throat tightened again, looking to the ceiling you took a deep breath and continued. “Azriel had Elain. Amren found Varian. Fuck even Mor somehow stole Viv from Kal.”

Rhysand dropped the news that shattered you slightly. “Viv and Mor are no longer together. Viv realized her actions were incredibly stupid, that she loves Kallias, that having been with only one romantic partner wasn't a bad thing. She's here to ask him if she can come home.”

You nodded. “He will tell her yes.”

Rhysand moved closer. “Leaving you where, little moonbeam? What does that leave here for you?” The answer was nothing and you both knew that. You knew how deep that childhood friends to lovers to mates bond ran between the two of them.

The High Lord of Winter loved you, but he would never love you the way he loves his mate, his wife, the queen of his world.

Just as you would never love him the way you loved Azriel. You should never find you soul singing for him the way it did when just the scent of cedar and chilled air floated into a room. You would never have butterflies for him the way you do Azriel. You would never ignite for him the way Azriel made you burn.

“What happened between you and Azriel?”

The question hung in the air like a noose waiting to destroy you both. “After Solstice we,” you looked up again, caving and dropping your shields to allow Rhysand in.

His jaw tightened slightly, looking away from you. “He does love you,” rhysand moved towards the untouched bed. “When our first letters to meet with you were met with silence, and then rejection, Azriel threw himself so deeply into his work Cassian and I began to worry.”

“I love him too,” the confession was silent and instantly met with hands grabbing your upper arms from behind, and a soft comfort scent. Rhysand moved to leave the room, presumably going back to the meeting room. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word. I meant every word. Every kiss.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding tightly as you relaxed into him. “You are my first thought at sunrise, my lady thought when exhaustion forces me into sleep. Even there you haunt me, your voice. Your eyes. Your kindness. Sometimes I wake up and my mind is convinced you were there and that I can still smell you on my pillows.”

Your heartbeat increased at his words, mind swirling. “Kallias and Viv have not left her chambers, guards informed us we are welcome to head to our rooms, but the High Lord and Lady will not be leaving hers tonight.” You smiled at their happy ending coming back once again. “None of us thought that would last.”

“How could it,” you turned in his arms, moving to lace yours around his neck. “Some things are simply meant to be.”

“Things like you and I,”” Azriel held your eye contact, hazel eyes pleading. “Even if one of us was blind to that at first?”

You nodded, meeting him in the middle, knowing he didn't realize what he was doing. “Exactly like you and I.”

Azriel didn't hesitate, pulling you into a deep kiss. One that sealed itself like a promise on both of your hearts.

It was you and him, from here until time stood still.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x rhysands sister! reader #Spotify

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queenofcoquette · 4 months

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making the holidays feel magical

introduction:

hi loves! i want to talk about how to make the holiday season feel magical! i'm mainly talking about christmas-related stuff since that's the holiday i celebrate this time of year, and i'm not really aware of traditions for other holidays. anyways, this can apply to you even if you don't celebrate christmas, just general stuff on how to have fun this season :)

why does christmas feel different?

i've seen so many people expressing how Christmas just isn't the same as when they were a kid, and it stopped feeling magical. i think that has to do with not being a kid anymore, for ppl with healthy childhoods they spent their childhood being unaware of problems in the world and things like that. also when ur not a kid there's stress from school, or work. pretty much if ur stressed year-round, the stress isn't going to go away during the holiday season, unfortunately.

making it fun:

play christmas music while studying/doing schoolwork. i've been doing a lot of studying lately for exams, and an easy way to make it feel festive is to have a cup of hot chocolate and some festive music in the background.

decorate. just adding extra lights, or paper snowflakes to your room can be super fun!

practice gratitude. this should be a year-round thing, but especially right now practice gratitude everyday. before bed reflect on everything you have and the little things in your life.

give back. this sort of connects with my last point. help other people- maybe donate clothes you don't wear anymore or that don't fit, donate cans to a food bank, etc.

find easy crafts to do. at the end of my english class we made paper snowflakes and it was super fun. just find some easy crafts you can do in your free time, put on some good music, and have fun.

bake!

do self care. bubble baths can be pretty fun, face masks, just relaxing and watching christmas movies.

watch christmas movies.

talk to old friends/relatives.

conclusion:

i hope you all have a wonderful winter being safe, happy and healthy. if you celebrate Christmas then i hope it feels magical- even if it doesn't feel the same as when you were a kid, i hope it still is fun and enjoyable. love u guys :)

also i'm going to visit some relatives on the 22nd so i'm not going to be posting during Christmas or really until new years, so i'll see u all in 2024!

#self improvement #self care #that girl #that girl 2023 #coquette #pink pilates princess #it girl #healthy habits #queenofcoquette

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mindfulstudyquest · 28 days

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲: easy tips to form healthy habits ( based on this alessya farrugia video )

lately i've been having trouble being productive and finding a healthy balance between study, passions, exercise and free time. i've been searching for a long time online for advices and ideas that could help me find my serenity, and my searches led me to this. i hope you appreciate it.

pro tip do not try to improve everything all at once, you're gonna fail. just try to incorporate something small in your routine to start forming healthy habits. it might take months, but one year from now it will all be worthy.

𝟭. don't hit snooze ( ⏰ )

the "snooze" button is definitely my worst enemy, i simply don't want to get up and start a new day that will be tiring and hard, but when i realized the reasons why putting off the alarm is so harmful for me i seriously started to stop doing it. you will actually wake up even more tired and sleep-deprived after the second or third alarm goes off, since falling back to sleep after having already woken up causes your brain to begin a new "sleep cycle" that takes 75 minutes to complete, abruptly interrupting these cycles brings unpleasant side effects such as tiredness, irritability and headaches.

bonus start waking up at the same time every day, this will not only help consolidate your routine but is scientifically proven that it significantly reduces levels of anxiety and depression.

𝟮. don't check your phone (📱)

i've always spent at least an hour scrolling through social media right after waking up every day, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's not exactly the healthiest thing in the world. do not go on your phone for at least 30min/1h after waking up. i know it seems hard ( i have a severe phone addiction so i understand ) but i guarantee you that your days will be so much more stress free and productive. why? going on your phone as soon as you wake up gives you an instant hit of dopamine ( for more info, check this post ) that is gonna literally ruin your day, because your brain is gonna pretend more and more dopamine for the rest of the day in order to function properly.

𝟯. have a glass of water ( 🫗 )

you didn't drink for 8 hours or more so it's time to rehydrate your body. i hate drinking water as soon as i wake up so you can try adding some lemon juice to give it more taste, you can also try some herbal tea if it's winter and you don't feel like drinking cold water first thing in the morning, but avoid caffeine ( and theine ) for at least one hour after waking up. exactly like the hit of dopamine that your phone gives you, caffeine and similar stimulants will have the same effect on your body.

𝟰. have a cold shower ( 🚿 )

ok, i'm not one of those gurus who tells you to get up at 5 in the morning, take an ice bath and run 12 km before 7am, but switching to cold water for the last two minutes of your morning shower will have some benefits invaluable for you and your body. first of all it helps to wake you up, because it stimulates the nerve endings and makes the brain more active, it also helps to tone the skin and make the hair shinier. it's a difficult thing, but doing something like this in the morning will help your brain cope better with the workload during the day. it also reduces stress and anxiety, since the cold can activate the production of endorphins ( known as "happy hormones" ).

𝟱. physical and mental care ( 💕 )

take five or ten minutes to just look after yourself, do skincare - it doesn't have to be a deep session, just a little moisturizer and lip balm -, meditate, journal, cut out a few minutes from your morning routine where you leave out for a while all the negative thoughts, stress and anxiety, your body is your temple and you must treat it with reverence, your mind is your home, your safe place, and deserves your attention.

𝟲. get direct sunlight ( ☀️ )

apply some sunscreen and go get some sunlight, the benefits are so many that i couldn't list them all: i quote, production of vitamin D ( very important especially if you are a woman ), improved mood and, in general, physical and mental health, sleep regulation, improved skin. i know it's not always possible, especially in winter when there is very little sun, but for example if you have the chance to walk to school or work on a beautiful sunny spring day, take it!

𝟳. make the bed ( 🛏️ )

why should i make my bed if i'm going to have to sleep in it in the evening anyway? well, this is the mistake that i very often make and i admit that i am guilty of it. however, not making the bed is exactly the reason that pushes me to go back there immediately and sleep again. making your bed in the morning as an act of discipline will not only improve your self-esteem and make you less want to go back to sleep, but it will make your room seem cleaner and generally improve your environment, making you feel more productive and satisfied. completing that little task in the morning, even if it's small and simple, will give you motivation and will push you through the day.

𝟴. high-proteine breakfast ( 🥞 )

make sure you eat a balanced, protein-rich breakfast that will keep you feeling full until your next meal. it is useless to limit calories especially in the morning when we need an extra boost, this will only make us feel more tired and irritable and will significantly decrease our productivity.

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cowgurrrl · 2 months

Text

Slow It Down Cowboy

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: this ended up being so chunky but I hope that’s okay

Summary: The wall [5.8k!!!]

Warnings: academic blackmail??, bad administrative decisions, an even worse parent, Joel comforting reader, more art talk, slight angst

As the sun sets earlier and the weather dips below the usual heat, things actually start looking pretty good. Andie, somehow, found time off of work and is coming home for a few days during the long winter break. You've gotten back to making art you actually care about now that you're in a race with Joel. All your students are settled and starting to come out of their shells, making more experimental art. Ellie continues to show up with cups of coffee with your name on them before anyone else can spill into your classroom, and you continue to text Joel.

How much are you spending on coffee now?

I thought we agreed to keep certain things secret.

Joel Miller.

Hush. You deserve it.

In between lessons and at lunch, you'll manage to catch each other at the right time and shoot messages off as fast as they come in. He helps you fix a squeaky chair over text, and you help him set up a care package to send to Sarah. It's nice even though you haven't really seen him since the night of the gallery opening. Even things at the bar seem to be doing better, and you're making enough to not have to worry so much. But you're most proud of the list of students whose art will be shown at the winter showcase, Ellie's work among them.

You make a big deal about it and send in an announcement to be read in the morning, congratulating all the students. You even go out of your way to announce it in all your classes and offer extra credit to any student who shows up to support their classmates. Surprisingly, your rag-tag group of moody teenagers actually seem keen about the opportunity. Things are going well. You're happy, healthy, financially stable(ish), and your guards are down for the first time in a long time.

You're working with quiet music playing over your computer when the knock at your door sounds during planning period. You stand to open it, but before you can, you hear a jangle of keys and the popping of the lock. Principal Martinez walks in, squints at you, and immediately turns on the overhead fluorescent lights that haven't been used in God knows how long. They buzz in protest as your eyes adjust.

"Hey!" You manage to sound cheery even though she looks like she means business. "I'm assuming you're here about the winter showcase?" You ask, and the line between her brows deepens.

"The what?"

"The showcase? A couple of my kids from the art club got accepted to have their artwork shown in a gallery downtown. It was on the announcements this morning. I can send you the information about when the event is." You offer. Something clicks, and she shakes her head now that she knows what you're talking about.

"Oh, that," she says. "No, I'm not here about that."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not exactly." She says, and you feel panic pool in your stomach like an unwanted visitor. "Dalton Green's father has brought his grade in your class to my attention."

"He hasn't turned anything in to me since September. I can't grade an empty page," you say, hoping that she's as aware as you are that it's the beginning of November. "I sent an email to his father and football coach back in October, but I still haven't seen any work from him."

"Mr. Green says he's positive his son has turned in work. Are you sure you haven't just misplaced it?"

"No, I've graded and given back every single assignment from the semester."

"Let me be clear," she says. "Are you sure you haven't just forgotten to put his grades in? It's an easy mistake to make. You could always just input them now so that he's eligible to continue playing. You wouldn't want to bench a perfectly responsible young man. Would you?"

"Ma'am, are you suggesting I lie about Dalton's grades just so he can keep playing football?" You ask, your panic quickly turning into frustration.

"It'd be such a silly thing to fail something as simple as art. Especially when the funding for the school comes directly from our team's ability to perform. Sometimes, as teachers, we have to make sacrifices to ensure the greater good of our students." She says. It never fails to surprise you how condescending people can be when it comes to your job. Martinez will be gone in a year to fight for a place on the school board, and it's clear she's not pulling her punches even now. Still, you're floored by the ask. Never in your career have you been asked by a principal to lie about a student's grades.

"I'd be willing to make certain accommodations, but I'm really not comfortable doing that. If he wanted to turn something in, I could find a way to give him half credit." You say. Her face changes almost imperceptibly before she straightens up with a cynical smile.

"Well, I think since you had the idea, you should be the one to call his father and tell him the good news," she says it like it's a reward, but it feels like more of a punishment. Your good mood comes crumbling around you as she looks at you expectantly. You have principles as a teacher. This is one of them, but how far are you willing to go to protect it? "I have a meeting with some people from the school board, but please let me know what conclusion you and Mr. Green come to regarding Dalton's grades." She says as she walks out of your room, not even bothering to look at you over her shoulder as she speaks to you.

"Fuck," you mutter as the door closes behind her. You stare at the phone and think about your options. You can't let her walk all over you just because she's your boss, and you won't compromise your values just so the football program will thrive. But you also really don't want to make this phone call. If Dalton's dad is as pleasant as he seems over email, you can't imagine this going well. "Fuck." You say again as you pick up the receiver and search your records for Dalton's dad's phone number. You find it, and in a burst of confidence, dial the number and listen to the line ring, secretly hoping he won't pick up.

"Green." His dad says in place of a greeting, and you take a deep breath.

"Hi, Mr. Green. This is Dalton's art teacher from school. I understand you had some issues regarding his grade in my class?" You tread very carefully, but even then, he scoffs.

"You're damn right I have some issues. Why are you failin' him? He's gotta pass to play football, and Principal Martinez said you'd get it sorted."

"Yes, sir, that's why I'm calling," you say. "Dalton hasn't turned in any of the assignments I've given out since September, and because of that, I've been unable to give him a good grade. However, I can make some arrangements to give him half credit for every assignment he turns in before the end of next week. That should give him more than enough time between classes and practice."

"He told me you lost his assignments."

"No, sir, I haven't received anything from him." You say. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and you almost hope the call dropped before he can respond.

"Are you sayin' my son's a liar?"

You spend the next twenty minutes being berated over the phone, not even allowed to get a word in without being cut off. Several times throughout the call, you think about hanging up and unplugging the phone, but you know that'd only make it worse. God forbid he show up at the school and humiliate you in front of the other staff or, worse, students. No wonder Dalton has issues if this is how his father speaks to people. If your day wasn't ruined by your encounter with the principal, it certainly is now. You handle it as well as possible until he gets near the end of his rant and takes a deep breath.

"I just can't believe they'd let a teacher as horrible as you work there. What right do you have to teach anything?" He says, and that's what really gets under your skin. Suddenly, hot tears spring in your eyes, and your throat feels like sandpaper.

"I don't know." It is the only thing you can think to say.

"Call me back when you have a real fuckin' solution and not whatever bullshit this is." He spits before hanging up the phone. You put the receiver down and bury your head in your hands, trying your best not to cry. Your molars buzz, and it feels like your head is swelling with pain. His insults and backhanded comments echo in your ears, and you can't hold the tears back any longer.

What a fucking shit show. You know Martinez won't do anything about the verbal abuse unless you're willing to lie about grades, which is a ridiculous request in the first place. Dalton's dad won't back down, and you can safely assume Coach Sanders is next up on the roster if you don't do something soon. Why can't you get a kid to turn in a fucking piece of paper? Are you really that bad of a teacher that you're losing an argument with a seventeen-year-old? Is this the hill you want to die on?

You think about going upstairs and seeking refuge in Mrs. Tomlinson's English class, your favorite coworker and the one who hides the good snacks in her desk, but you know she has a class, and you don't want to embarrass yourself. Andie is seven hours ahead and probably asleep. You're friends with people from the bar but not good enough friends that you could call them crying about a situation like this. The realization that you're alone in this makes you more emotional, and you have to stifle your sobs behind your hand.

You jump when your doorknob twists open again, and you half-expect Martinez to be there with an I-told-you-so look on her face. You quickly turn so your back is to the door and wipe the tears on your face. You can't stand to be humiliated again today. When you turn back to see who entered your classroom, Joel's big brown eyes soften when he sees how upset you are.

"Honey," he murmurs, and you almost start sobbing again at his soft tone. "What's goin' on?"

"I didn't know you were coming today." You sniffle, trying to pull yourself together. He walks over and drops his toolbox on a nearby table so he can pull you up from your chair.

"Supposed to be a surprise." He says as he tucks you into his chest. You hug him tightly and let him rub your back in the quiet of your classroom. His shirt smells like laundry detergent and the cold wind sweeping through the hill country. He should be wearing a jacket, but he's not, and you can feel goosebumps on his skin. For a minute, you just cling to him and cry, staining his shirt with tears, but he doesn't care. He's patient and shushes you gently as he adjusts his hold on you to bring you closer. You bury your face in his neck, and he kisses your head.

"What are you doing here?" You ask into his skin.

"I found your missin' piece for the projector. I thought I'd come install it for you so you'd stop fallin' off things tryna get it to work," he says. He leans back just enough to swipe your hair out of your eyes and rests his hands on either side of your face so you can see him. You want to turn away because you know you look like a crying mess, but he doesn't flinch. "There she is," he whispers fondly when you meet his eyes. "Your turn. What happened that's got you all upset?" He asks, swiping his thumbs under your eyes to catch stray tears.

"Just… a really shitty call with a parent." You say, not wanting to get into specifics just yet.

"Anythin' I can do?" He asks, and you shake your head. Just his presence is enough to make you feel better. His big, warm hands holding you like you're precious is a big plus, too. You run your hands over the muscles hidden by his shirt and take a deep breath.

"Just this," you say, and he smiles. "'S a very nice surprise."

"I might've had ulterior motives." He says sheepishly, and you chuckle.

"What are your ulterior motives, maverick?" You ask. You honestly don't know where the nickname came from, but it's stuck around. You've heard it used by old southern women when talking about someone who's independent or doesn't follow the rules. "There goes maverick again!" They'd say when their unruly son would go speeding by in the kitchen. You think the private name suits him.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks quietly, without a hint of shame or doubt in his voice. You almost fold just because of how he's looking at you through his long eyelashes. Almost. The age-old sound of your projector whirring reminds you where you are, and you straighten up.

"Not here."

"After I fix the projector?" He negotiates, and you laugh at how quickly he bounces back.

"After you fix the projector and we're not on school campus anymore."

"Deal," he says as he turns away from you and toward his toolbox. "You should time me. This might be the fastest replacement I've ever done."

"You're really that motivated now?" You tease, the levity between you two draining the dredges of your bad afternoon from your brain. He smiles and digs in his toolbox for the right screwdriver.

"For you? Of course." He says. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting a smile, and he winks at you. He's barely standing on a chair before you grab his arm and stop him.

"Wait," you say. You're not really sure what the plan is, but you also don't care. Joel, however, looks confused. "I found an old step stool in my storage closet the other day, but it's on the top shelf. If you can get it down, that might be a little safer."

"You've had a step stool this whole time, and you're still climbin' on tables?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at you. "You're gonna put me in an early grave one of these days."

"Quit that," you laugh as he steps off the chair. "I didn't have time to get it down whenever I needed it, and I just forgot about it until the other day. C'mon, I'll show you where it is." He sighs dramatically but follows you into the dusty storage room filled floor to ceiling with various art supplies. It's hidden by a suspicious-looking, windowless door just off to the right of your classroom. You think it might've been used as a tornado shelter when the school was much smaller and younger, but since then, it's been renovated into a personal storage room.

The second the door closes behind him, you turn around, push him against it, and kiss him before you can change your mind. He gasps into you like he wasn't expecting this but quickly grabs your waist, anchoring to you and kissing you back feverishly. You really had planned on making him wait until you were safe, far away from school grounds, instead of pulling him into the nearest private space like a teenager. But you figured if Martinez can break the rules, why can't you?

Your hand snakes through his hair and plays with the curls at the nape of his neck, drawing a content sigh from Joel. His lips are a little chapped and firm against yours. He tastes like coffee and something sweet, and you want more. You tip your mouth up to him to kiss him deeper, and he grips your hips hard, his fingers grazing the skin just under the hem of your shirt. You test scratching your nails over the back of his neck, and he shudders beautifully under your touch. In one move, he switches places with you and pins you between him and the door.

With him in control, he slows down just a little, kissing you softly like he's got all the time in the world. You've realized Joel likes treating you like you're made of porcelain. Like all it would take is one wrong move, and you'd fall apart under his touch. He lets you make the first move every time, tying his hands behind his back until you say the word in an impressive show of self-control. Even at the art gallery, when there was so much tension between you, you thought you'd choke on it; he wasn't the one who initiated. The knee-jerk reaction of flipping your positions against the door to take control is his first show of power, and you like it. What do you need to do to get him to do it again?

The bell sounding through the intercom breaks you apart, and you groan at the intrusion. Nothing is keeping you after school today but you aren't ready to separate from Joel just yet. You rest your head on the door and stare at him as you vaguely hear the sounds of rowdy kids flooding the hallways. His lips are swollen and a little pink, and his hair is messy from all your pulling.

"What?" He questions your staring and you shake your head.

"I just like looking at you," you say. "Your hair is also a mess, but that's a completely different story."

"And whose fault is that?" He laughs and musses his curls back into place. You help with a few strands at the back and smile when everything is tame again.

"Good as new." You say. Now, it's his turn to peer at you, and you give him a confused look. You swipe under your eyes as if there's mascara stuck there and fix your hair, waiting for him to give you the all-clear, but he just chuckles.

"I can't believe you pulled me into a closet to make out."

"Me neither, honestly." You admit as the both of you dissolve into delirious laughter. You wait in the closet for a few more minutes so the hallways can clear out (and you can kiss a little more) before you finally exit, checking that it's clear and then opening the door wider for Joel. When he sees his toolbox sitting on the desk where he left it, he sighs and glances between you and the ceiling.

"I'm never gonna get to fix that goddamn projector." He mutters, and you laugh as you pass in front of him and pat his shoulder.

"Next time, maverick." You say. His grumbles disappear as you pack up your stuff side-by-side in silence. It's nice to not feel like you always have to fill the space with conversation. It's enough for papers to rustle as they land in your bag and his tools to clink as they find their proper homes. The hallways have gone quiet, and the eerie silence of an empty school slowly creeps up on you.

Joel's boots squeaking catch your attention as you unplug your computer and start turning off various lamps around the classroom. He stands in front of the whiteboard where you have a big print of a Rothko painting displayed for today's art history lesson. He tilts his head as he looks at it like he's trying to find some hidden meaning or perspective, and you smile to yourself at the motion.

"Lots of people think it's not much to look at." You break the silence from the back of the room, and he looks at you over your shoulder.

"I didn't say that."

"I know. I'm just letting you know what certain historians say," you say. You finish with all the lamps, and the only light coming into the classroom is the little bit of natural light streaming in from the windows near the ceiling. Stray dust spins in the air as you join him in looking at the poster of the Rothko, and you try to imagine what he's thinking.

It's a little unnerving, like most of the ones Rothko made towards the end of his life. The vast darkness on the top half of the painting is daunting, while the gray at the bottom helps ground the viewer, at least a little. If you look closely enough, you can see the various washes and brushstrokes he used to create the painting. Obviously, a lot of skill and time went into something like this, even though not everyone wants to see it. "It's hard to know what it meant to him. It probably didn't mean anything, honestly. He wanted people to have sensory experiences with his art, so you only get as much as you put into it." You explain, and Joel nods but doesn't look away from the painting.

"Is it the surface of the moon?" He asks.

"What makes you say that?" You interrogate, trying to hide your excitement at getting to hear him tell you what he thinks of art.

"Well, it kinda looks like I'm standin' on the moon and lookin' out into space." He says as he runs his finger over the divide between the two colors.

"Where's the Earth, then?"

"Maybe I'm on the dark side of the moon."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says. "Maybe the Earth is just too far away, and I can't reach it, but I know it's there. If the moon started spinnin' faster or somethin', I could see it, but maybe it's not for me to see..." It's incredibly profound, even if he doesn't realize it. You see where he's coming from based on what you know about his past and almost want to reach for his hand, but you don't. "But I don't know. What do I know bout art?"

"A lot," you answer quickly, hating how he talks about himself like he's stupid. "You know a lot. That was a really good analysis." He hums noncommittally and bumps your shoulder with his.

"What bout you? What's it to you?" He asks, and you sigh as you look the colors over again.

"A wall and the night sky."

"A wall?"

"Yeah. It's either protecting me or keeping me in, but either way, it's there, and there's not much I can do about it. I could stay where I am and never find out what's beyond it and be safe, or I could climb the wall and never be the same again. I wouldn't know what's behind it or what's out there— that's why it's all black at the top— but maybe that's what's so interesting about it. The unknown." You say, and Joel hums.

"You should be a teacher or somethin'." He says, and you laugh and move to grab your backpack off your desk.

"It just might be in the cards for me," you say. "What's Ellie doing tonight? Don't you have to pick her up?"

"She's actually going to the movies with some friends tonight." He says, beaming with pride, and you gasp dramatically.

"Is she really?"

"Sent her with twenty dollars and everythin'."

"Oh, that's so good! She's doing so good! I knew art club would get her out of her shell." You clap your hands, and he nods, smiling.

"She certainly ain't shy anymore. It feels like she's always on the phone with someone these days." He's a little nostalgic for the little girl who used to cling to her dad, and you make a sympathetic sound.

"Don't you worry. I'm sure she'll want to hang out with her old dad during winter break."

"Old?!" He parrots as you usher him out of the room, your keys jingling on your arm.

"Her words, not mine." You say as you walk out into the empty hallway with him and lock your classroom door behind you. He scoffs and grumbles something under his breath but doesn't push you for any insider information on Ellie. You like having your secrets with her, and as long as she's not a threat to herself or others, you'll keep those secrets until she's ready to tell him.

You walk out to the parking lot together to catch the last few rays of sun scattering across the sky and smile when you see that Joel somehow managed to park close to your car. He loads his tools up in his truck bed while you throw your backpack in the backseat, but neither of you gets in your car immediately after things are settled. Instead, you wander back over to his truck and lean against one of the doors.

"So, if Ellie's out with friends, what are you doing for the rest of the night?" You ask, and he smirks, stepping into your space. You think about scolding him, but the parking lot is practically empty. Plus, you like having him close. In the orange light of dusk, you feel safe next to him and his truck. He quirks an eyebrow at you and looks serious.

"Are you askin' me on a date?"

"It's not a date."

"Is this the same thing like you weren't gonna kiss me, and then you did?" He teases. You roll your eyes and push off his truck, putting your arms up in defeat.

"I didn't realize Joel Miller hated spontaneity so much. Fine, I'll stop doing it." You start walking back toward your car, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back before you can get far. You smile when your chest collides with his and look up at him.

"Now, I didn't say all that," he says. "'M just surprised. You're gettin' ballsy."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't think so," he says as he leans forward like he's about to tell you a secret. "I think it's pretty hot, actually." He whispers lowly in your ear, his breath fanning out across your neck and making your face hot. You shove at his shoulder, but he just laughs and grabs your hand. "What? You don't like me callin' you hot?"

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"I ain't hearin' a 'no.'"

"Yes, Joel, I like it. Is that what you wanna hear?" You finally relent, and he shrugs with every ounce of sass.

"Maybe," he says. "I also wanna hear what you were thinkin' for our not date."

"Oh, something super romantic."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Whataburger meals and milkshakes." You say, and he makes a play at his knees giving out under him.

"A woman after my own heart." He groans, and you roll your eyes.

You could take separate cars. It'd probably be easier for getting home and take away an extra stop, but you don't really care about that when you climb into the passenger's side of his truck. He doesn't seem surprised by your decision to ride with him and rests a hand on your thigh the second he pulls out of the school parking lot. He asks about your day, painting, and even if you've heard anything else from Henry as he drives. You rant a little about Principal Martinez and ask about his day, so he gets a turn ranting about headers and structural issues. You're not exactly sure what he's talking about, but you nod and listen anyway, and he doesn't critique you for not knowing.

When you get to Whataburger, you have to scout to make sure there are no teenagers you recognize before going in. Of course, he opens the door and lets you order first like a gentleman, but you elbow him out of the way so you can pay before he can even reach for his wallet. By the look on his face, you would've thought you ripped a cookie out of his hands. "It's my turn!" You say, but he still looks shocked when you hand him his orange and white striped cup. You choose a booth near the back and continue talking about your days or recent developments until your food comes, and then you talk in between bites. It's not romantic, but it is comfortable.

He updates you on Sarah's progress in medical school and even shows you pictures on his phone of the last time the three of them were all together. He looks lighter when he's with the both of them like all the pieces of his heart are bound in those girls. You like to think it is. He tells you how he's looking at grants for small-business owners in Austin and is eligible to apply for a good amount. "'M just nervous I won't get any." He says, and you shake your head.

"They've got insane amounts of money they're looking to give to hardworking people. I bet you'll be a millionaire by the end of this bet." You say, and he chuckles as he pops a fry in his mouth.

"What bout you?" He asks.

"What about me?"

"How's the search for a gallery goin'?" You take a deep breath at his question and shrug.

"I don't really have anything to submit just yet, but some places are taking rolling submissions, so I can send something in whenever. I just want it to be good."

"'M sure it will be." He says, and you give him a look.

"You haven't even seen any of my work. What if it's awful?"

"Then I'd lie and say it's the best thing I've ever seen."

"So you’re a iiar."

"At least, I'd be a considerate liar." He says. You're about to start arguing with him about it when a pair of familiar eyes meet yours across the restaurant. Before you can even think about a tactic to get out of the situation, she's already up and walking toward your booth.

"Oh, shit," you mutter, and Joel's eyebrows furrow until he finds who you're looking at. His face falls exactly the same way you're sure yours did.

"Hi!" Marnie greets as she lands in front of you. "I haven't seen you in a minute!"

"I know! I've been meaning to text you about getting drinks, but I keep forgetting!" It's a lie. A considerate lie, but a lie nevertheless.

"Oh, you're too sweet. We'll set somethin' up," she says as she turns to Joel. "And you! I haven't seen you since Sarah moved. How is she?" Oh, shit. How does she know you and Joel? He recovers quickly with a charming smile and a nod.

"Yes, ma'am. She's doin' real good up in Boston. Keepin' outta trouble and everythin'."

"And Ellie? How's she doin'? She still makin' art?" 900,000 people in Austin and countless Whataburgers within 100 square miles, and the person who walks into the one you're in is the one you used to work with at school. Not only that, but she knows Joel's kids. She knows Joel. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Yeah, she's still doin' art. She's good at it. She's seein' a movie with some friends from school tonight." He says, and Marnie's eyes light up at the mention of the high school while Joel tenses.

"Oh, my gosh, how's the new classroom? I completely forgot they renovated that old teacher's lounge a couple years ago."

"It's good. The equipment's a little old, but nothing's fallen apart yet. You'll have to come see it sometime."

"We'll have to find a time!" She says, always insanely cheerful. "Well, I'll let y'all get back to your meal, but I'd be kickin' myself if I didn't come over here and say hello to you two. Joel, please tell the girls I said hi."

"Yes, ma'am," Joel says politely. With that, Marnie turns and walks back to her waiting husband and says something that sounds like, "I know them!" Your food is suddenly cold and unappetizing when you look at it, and your stomach is in knots. The warm bubble around you and Joel has burst, and you're left in the stark light of the truth. "D'you wanna go?" Joel whispers, and you nod.

He takes your trays and throws away the food before opening the door for you to walk out into the cool night air, avoiding Marnie's stare the whole time. He doesn't reach for you or help you into the truck. He barely looks at you until you're in the safety of the cab. The world is spinning around you, and alarms are sounding in your brain. What the fuck just happened?

"How do you know her?" You ask Joel, staring straight ahead, and he swallows hard.

"She was Sarah and Ellie's science tutor," he says, and your eyes flutter shut. "How do you know her?"

"She was the science teacher at the high school during my first year there. She left to go to a different school after that, but we were pretty close."

"So, she knows you're a teacher at the same school my kid goes to."

"And she knows Ellie does art, so she knows she would be one of my students." You slowly piece together how bad this could be. You got caught having dinner with the parents of one of your students. If Marnie says anything, word could travel through the district until Martinez hears about it. You'd be in much more trouble than you already are with her. You could be accused of giving Ellie special treatment and violating school policy.

"Fuck." Joel mumbles, mirroring your exact thoughts, and you nod.

"We can't do this." You whisper, not wanting to admit it, especially after such a nice day with him. He doesn't protest. He feels the gravity of the situation. You want to put your hand over his. You want to hug him. You want to comfort him the way he comforted you, but you can't.

"I know." His voice is even and controlled like he's choosing his words carefully, but you can hear the disappointment in his words. You can't go back to an hour ago when you were laughing and pulling him into storage rooms. You have to stay where you are. You have to stay safe. He is the personification of your wall and you have to be okay with not knowing what’s beyond it.

You can't do this.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fluff

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authorforrosie · 9 months

Text

Requested by: @nfrgirl

I hope you enjoy this version for Jennie. I wanted to make this one more romantic and fluffy!❣️

Title: You meet Jennie’s best friend‘s for the first time. [Requested]

Pairing: Jennie x You. [GxG]

Warning: none.

Words: 1155

Jennie Kim has been dating you since almost eight months. You both are obviously in love with each other. You both agreed in the first step of building up a relationship that you didn't wanna meet each other's friends, family's or telling them. Until you both knew that the relationship becomes serious.

After she went on world tour in 2022 for born pink you didn't hesitate to visit her a few times secretly. Not too often because you both want a healthy and balanced relationship.

When born pink tour ended in 2023 you and Jennie met up again in your house. Which she absolutely adored. It always felt like home for her.

On one day in winter 2023 she asked you to meet her best friends which are her three bandmates: Rosé, Lisa, Jisoo. Besides Jung Hoyeon. You agreed immediately after having a healthy conversation about this subject with your girlfriend Jennie.

You met her best friends in a small cozy comfortable relationship. Jennie never left your side unless she needed to go at the lady restroom.

All of you sat on a table on opposite sides. Only Jennie sat next at you and Rosé. You immediately noticed her Australian accent. It reminded you of the cute Kiwi accent of your girlfriend when she speaks in english with you for a very long time time.

Jisoo was a little bit reserved way more listening to the way you speak and sat. She was impressed when she saw you making gestures with your hands while you explained at them about the sun-system and universe in general.

You didn't talk too much through. They realized how shy you are. Especially when one of them asked you questions about your very personal life. You squirmed on your seat. Jennie moved a hand on your thigh to give it a slight comfort squeeze. Which you appreciated very much.

„Baby I will be back in a second I need to use the lady restroom." Announced Jennie with comfort in her voice.

You only nodded with your head not trusting your mouth since you are very shy. You don't know what to say sometimes. When Jennie left for the lady restroom. Her best friends looked at you with a very serious expression on their face's.

„So Y/N tell us what's your intentions with our precious mandu...?" Asked Jisoo with seriousness in her voice.

You took a few seconds to progress her sentence and to think of a good-satisfying answer. It shouldn't be questioned that you are obviously in love with Jennie.

„I am absolutely obviously in love with your best friend Jennie. She isn't only Jennie of blackpink. She is the cute Jennie Kim. A human. I try my hardest to make her feeling happy and loved everyday. I am very sure already that I can imagine a future with her. I will answer you on this question in four months because I think Jennie deserves to know first what I can imagine in a future with her. She is making me fall in love with her every day without even trying." Answered you honestly with seriousness in your voice.

It must've satisfied them because Rosé cried at the love confession that you made about her Jennie Unnie. Lisa wiped her and Rosé's tears with tissues. Jisoo only had a happy expression on her face as well. You was sure that you saw her slightly tears in her brown eyes that she held back.

„Welcome in the family Y/N. You are the perfect match for our mandu. Please don't hurt her through. It would hurt us too." Whispered Rosé with shyness in her voice.

You pinky promised them with you intertwining your little finger with their little finger's. They giggled in that moment because a pinky promise is cute and silly for them. Rosé took them very seriously. Hoyeon didn't hesitate to walked around the table to give you a welcoming hug which you absolutely appreciated. In the moment no one of you realized that Jennie came back from the lady restroom. Until you felt your cute mandu hugging you from behind with her face nuzzling in your face.

„Why are you having tears rolling down your cheeks baby girl...?" Asked Jennie with protection in her voice.

You only took her hand to move it towards your lips. Placing a comforting kiss on her hand. She smiled when she saw you getting shy.

„I will tell you later baby. Let's enjoy our time together now." Answered you with happiness in your voice.

Jennie pouted for a second since she wanted to know what you talked about with each other. She's very curious. Until she saw the way her best friends interacting with you. The atmosphere around each other seem lighter as well than it was way before.

„Y/N look at my magical trick that I taught my co-actor's on snowdrop behind the scenes." Announced Jisoo with excitement in her voice.

You looked with an curious expression on your face the way she showed you the magical trick. You didn't hesitate to ask her if she could teach you the magical trick. Rosé taught you a few Australian slangs and had a conversation about Australia with you. While Lisa showed you pictures about her cat's and started a conversation about Thailand with you.

Hoyeon had a conversation with you about Squid Game and the beauty of life. Until Jennie decided to go home with you. Not without planning another meeting together. This time at your house for a family dinner.

Snow dropped down from the sky Jennie held your hand. You both had a very long conversation about your first meeting with her best friends. She had tears rolling down her cheeks when she realized that they welcomed you as new family member and that they absolutely loved you for her.

„Baby Girl I love you so much. Thank you for making my whole life colorful again." Said Jennie with softness in her voice.

Her brown cat-like eyes lighted up with happy sparkles. You could get lost in her brown eyes all the time. Because you absolutely adored how colorful her brown is.

„I love you too baby." Statement you with happiness in your voice.

Jennie took your hand in her glove covered ones. Snow that dropped down on Jennie's brown hair looked beautiful. You wanted to kiss her so bad. You remain of kissing her in public until you both arrived at your house. Where she will be staying at for two weeks. Kuma already arrived there since Jennie bought him yesterday already at your house.

After changing clothes in front of each other at cute Pyjamas and sharing soft passionate kisses in between. Jennie decided to put on 'Xo, Kitty’ in Netflix. She laid in between your legs with her back resting against your front. You rub her arms in a lovingly way.

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kseung · 1 year

Text

Wednesday x Reader

Not Yet

Requested

Warnings: Blood, self-harm, suicide ideation, descriptive suicide scenes.

Proceed with caution.

Words: 2,530~

Before y'all read it; if you feel down or blue, please talk to someone or find a healthy coping mechanism. I volunteer to be someone's virtual reader, in case someone wants it or needs it.

Life is difficult. That's common knowledge. Still, you didn't imagine that yours would last so little. It all was so fast yet so slow.

Despite being an outcast, creature, non-human, and weird school, Nevermore wasn't quite big on gore. Which you thought you'd change. Not everyone has seen a suicide scene. Certainly less that of a friend of theirs.

"Guess I'll do it today," you thought. It gave you peace. It really did. You had no more reason to feel dread or tiredness since everything would end soon. But of course, you needed to make sure you'd actually do it. You can never plan too much.

Wednesday noticed that you were in a better mood, as did Enid, Ajax, and Xavier... everyone knew you were happy. Which was weird because you were usually gloomy and serious. But they didn't mind. They didn't know your thoughts. They believed you were happier that day. In reality, you were just grateful to have your end so near.

You didn't let Wednesday touch you at all. She thought it was odd since you were usually the one craving for physical contact. Despite that, she accepted it. She didn't like affection too much herself, so it did not offend her. You just didn't want her to have a vision.

Miss Thornhill dismissed the class. You, like many others, gathered your stuff, packed it, and left. You went to your room, taking out the box where you kept all your letters. Letters you made for everyone. It was a little detail you wanted them to have, just in case they wanted to remember you. They were completely free to trash it.

You took them all, placing them in a little bag you had. You changed clothes, too. If you were going to die, it wouldn't be in this sickly blue uniform. You got some black jeans and a white shirt.

You had an eye for harm, much like Wednesday herself. Though yours was mainly a really bad coping mechanism. You wanted your death to be impressionable. And blood shows better on a white shirt.

Much like Enid and Thing, even, you had style. You were going to be found looking good despite death. Fuck death and life.

You threw the bag over your shoulder, across your chest. It was chilly, and you wanted to feel it. Feel something. Anything. Even pain was better than nothing.

You took one last look at your ordered room before closing the door, for the last time.

•••••

You decided that the next thing you'd do was visit the library. You went there sometimes when things were bad. It gave you comfort for a final time, as well as nostalgia. You hoped the books wouldn't miss you too much.

It was empty this time, not even a couple having extreme displays of affection on the back. You turned around, bidding a mental goodbye. If you took too long you wouldn't get to the place in the forest by sunset.

You reached into your bag, taking out a bottle of painkillers. You took enough to make you drowsy, but not to kill you, yet. You just wanted your blood to thin, and anything else needed a prescription.

Sunsets were early, especially during winter. By 16:00, there'd be no more light. It was barely 3, and snow covered the way. You needed to be quick.

You arrived at Xavier's. You knew he'd be in fencing, probably, or painting. You took your chance and slid the letter under the door.

Enid, Yoko, and Ajax, they all received one. You even wrote one for Thing. Your hand was complaining, but you cared not.

You entered Wednesday's room, seeing no one. You expected that. They were busy women. You left Enid's at her bed. Wednesday's and Thing's were on her bed.

You gave their room one final look, taking some time to let your mind be filled with good, past memories. You couldn't help but fill your senses with her side of the room. You hoped Wednesday wouldn't miss you too much. She wouldn't, probably.

You walked to the balcony, stepping through the glass window. One final look at the quad, and you'd be off to the forest. It made you smile now, instead of a scowl. Life always goes on. It was especially demonstrated by the quarrel excited teenagers make when with friends. You wouldn't be too missed.

You returned inside. You had wasted too much time already. It was still empty, so you took your chance. Having someone find you right now won't be nice.

You ran until you reached the forest. Then, with the last minutes of sunlight, you directed yourself to the clearing a little far off. It was peaceful, really peaceful.

Now, you had to choose what to do. Quickly. Blood was always the prettiest way.

You started by cutting yourself on the forearm, vertically. It hurt, but not as much as you had expected. It felt good. You knew it'd last a while.

Your shirt was already blooded a little, just like the snow beneath you. All crimson. Your other arm made it redder. It was pretty. Hm. You wouldn't know what Wednesday would think of this. Would she see it as a feeble attempt to scream for attention? Would she like to see the ostentatious scene of a suicide in the woods? Would she care?

You wouldn't know.

You took the rest of the pills. If one thing doesn't kill you, the other one certainly would. It made you smile to be so peaceful. You sat on the ground, despite the cold, taking in the picturesque scene of the sun kissing the moon goodbye. Much like you and Wednesday, it was time for the night to come.

You closed your eyes when you felt dizzy, deciding that lying on the snow wouldn't hurt you. Or save you. You wanted the peace you were finally taking for yourself.

•••••

Wednesday felt uneasy. It was strange. She wanted to brush it off, except she didn't. She's not the feeler type, so whenever she felt something so strong she knew she had to act on it. She learned that from you.

She walked quickly through the quad and the halls, searching for you. She did not see you. Intending to find you, she walked even faster. But you weren't there, at yours. Must be at hers.

She opened the door before her, not bothering to fully close it. Expecting to find you on her bed, she looked to her right. However, you weren't there. Despite your absence, she noticed the presence of two differently colored letters on her desk.

"For Wednesday", one said. The other one was addressed to Thing. Said appendage climbed up Wednesday's arm, resting on her shoulder as they looked at the letters.

—Let's not wait.

She took hers, and let Thing be.

"Howdy, Wednesday,

How are you? I hope you're doing well. I trust that you will be able to find who the Hyde is. Yeah, I sneaked around a bit. But don't worry. I won't burden you.

Don't try to find me. But who am I to tell you what to do, anyway? You always do what you want. That's also one of the reasons why I liked you so much. It's odd, right? Hopefully, you'll get used to past tenses.

I love you, a lot. I hope you know that I'll never truly be gone unless you want me to. I have no problems with that either. Burn this letter, if so you will. No flames will stop me from loving you, but yours.

For being so hateful of affection, you're the clingy type, Wednesday. But in a terribly endearing way. Feel free to take all the coats and jackets you want. I know you have interesting likes, so, if you want, keep my bones too, or whatever. I'm tryna be nice.

Don't miss me too much. (Yes, I'm flattering myself that much.)

Eres mi luna.

–Tu sol"

She had only felt this much sadness once before, and she didn't like it. Not again. It made her panic inside. She knew you weren't always at your best, but she didn't imagine she'd have to bid goodbye so soon. She was not willing to take it.

She tried to think like you. Where would you go? What place would you select for your demise? She was desperate, and she hated that feeling.

She turned around, intending to head out of her room. "Has to be the forest", she thought. She slammed the door behind her. Damn. This was, probably, the only time when she wanted to have a vision. She didn't expect this to be the reason for her first-ever wish of a premonition.

Maybe Enid's nose could be of help. She ran to the quad, where she knew Enid would be. Wednesday took Enid by the hand, uncaring of whatever the werewolf was doing. She was about to complain, but the expression on the shorter girl's face was too indecipherable. She looked worried, angry, sad, and murderous at the same time. Quite the emotional mix for her.

—Find them, now! Please.

Enid wanted to tease, but she knew better than to do that. It was good that you spent that much time in their room. Now, Enid could just tell where you were, since she remembers your smell.

—Follow me.

And they were quick. Enid was surprised that you had gone out that far. But she understood why quickly. The smell was quite strong, but it was nothing compared to the red mess she saw before her. Wednesday was already expecting it, as bad as it sounded.

She kneeled by your side, checking your heart rate. With how cold you were, she was surprised you were still the littlest bit alive. She sighed in relief as her eyes watered.

—We can't wait any longer—, her voice was shaky. She gulped, forcing herself to be composed. —I can't carry her. Can you? Please.

Enid did not have to be told twice. Wednesday took off her coat, draping you in it before Enid took you in her arms. She didn't like to hear Wednesday pleading. It wasn't her.

They reached the school more rapidly than they reached you. She hoped she wasn't too late. The nurse was surprised when they arrived with you so suddenly. Still, work needed to be done.

Wednesday sat aside, watching everything happen in front of her. She wanted to scream off her voice until she'd be as silent as you. She took a moment to calm herself, deciding that the best thing she could do was patch your arm while the nurse did the other arm. Silently, they worked faster.

Of course, Wednesday had called for an ambulance to get you to the hospital. Now you just needed to wait. Time had never been such an unpleasurable torture before.

•••••

Everyone was shocked. It was not what they were expecting. But knowing you, they were sure you did not want pity. They were patiently waiting for your return.

Except Wednesday, regarding the "patiently" part. She was counting every second, exactly. All of her free time was spent with you. Sometimes, when she was left alone with you, she'd talk to you. It was better than any therapy Jericho could offer.

She was glad you weren't lucky enough to get away with your plans. The dosage was too little, and, despite deep, the cuts weren't enough to end you. Maybe the cold would've been the one to take you out. She looked at you once more, feeling glad that she was able to find you before it was too late.

Enid watched through the glass window, sighing. Ajax nodded and they stood there, in the hall just outside of your room. They hugged for a while before entering the room.

As expected, Wednesday was there.

—Hey. We brought some food, and a quad—, Enid said. Ajax nodded and held up the drink and bag. Wednesday pointed to the little table on the back side of the room.

—Thanks.

They just smiled in return.

—Just know that we're here whenever you want to not talk.

Wednesday looked at you, but eventually agreed. She knew she could, possibly, count on them. She closed her notebook, leaving it on top of the chair she was using before eating the food they'd given her.

She had been so preoccupied that her appetite had eluded her. It was taking a toll on her now. She had to take better care of herself if she wanted to take care of you later.

After a while of mainly them talking, and Wednesday listening, Enid and Ajax returned to Nevermore. She was alone with you, again. She liked her moments with you. She smiled and took the chair right next to you.

She decided that perchance it would be okay if she slept there, taking your hand in hers. So she did. She took your hand in hers and crossed her arms for (mostly un)comfortable sleep to overcome her.

•••••

Hours later, Wednesday woke up to some strange sensations. It was none other than you, caressing her hand. She almost cried.

She looked at you, watery eyes and quivering lip included. You had so little energy your only expression was that of guilt. She wanted to scream at you for being so stupid, but she contained herself. This was neither the place nor the moment.

—I'm sorry, Wednesday—, was the first thing you said. It made her furrow her brows.

—As you should be—. Her words were rough, but you knew that was just how she was. She was a prickly rose, however painful, yet still, a rose. —I'm just glad you're alive.

—Death does not suit me alone—. You wanted to cry. You let your tears fall, yet maintained eye contact. Tears meant so little now. —Thank you for being here, Wednesday. I know it was difficult for you. I'm sorry for burdening you once more. I-

—Shut up—, she said in a weak voice. It was almost a whisper. Her hand gripped yours tighter, but still gently enough. —Never do this again, or I'll...—, she paused. Torturing you would be your pleasure, so that was not an option. —I'll make you record those goddamn TikToks Enid never shuts up about—. It was a threat that came out of love, so you nodded, smiling.

—I see Enid is still the same Enid. Just like you're still my moon.

You shook off her hand, only to caress her cheek softly. She did not push you away. It made you wonder just how much you had hurt her.

—My sun.

The looks she gave you were equal to all the kisses you could ask. It was one step further in the healing of your soul. You smiled again.

—Can I hug you?—, you asked. —I want you to hug me, but if not, then maybe just let me do it?

She responded by wrapping her arms around your waist. It nearly made you cry again. The moon could, sometimes, be as warm as the sun, just like the sun could be as obscure as the moon.

🫂 hug if you need it

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday adams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #fanfiction #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday netflix

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hanilessa · 4 months

Text

crystal star

` Childe x Fem!Reader

` Genre: fluff, romance

` Author’s notes: merry christmas, my dears! i hope you will always be healthy, happy and loved <3 p.s. i love ajax being a tease!!

The spicy smell of cookies mixed with the slightly sour and sweet smell of fresh tangerines hit your nose. This smell slightly stung the mucous membrane of your nose, but you couldn't get enough of this amazing smell of the coming Christmas. Bright colors and lights, a decorated Christmas tree, cold snow melting on your mittens, delicious food and happy smiles of loved ones — all this was the atmosphere of the winter holidays. Pleasant excitement and anticipation settled in your heart.

You balanced on the tip of your right foot, relentlessly trying to reach the very top of the green Christmas tree that stood in your living room in front of the fireplace. The warmth of the fire spread through the room, pleasantly enveloping your exposed areas of the body. Even if the snow was raging outside the window, you were warmed by the warm air and your husband's hugs at home. Goosebumps ran through your body when you remembered how tenderly and reverently the ginger man's hands caressed you day and night. Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head from side to side to clear away the embarrassing thoughts.

The Christmas tree again attracted your attention, and you sighed in frustration, not knowing how to reach the top of the tree to decorate it with a bright crystal star. The Christmas tree decoration in your hands sparkled slightly in the twilight of the living room, illuminated by garlands and the light of the fire in the fireplace. However, the star in your hands shimmered with bright colors and delighted your eyes. You looked at the tree again, wondering what body position you should take in order to finally place the star on the top of the tree.

The Christmas tree looked simply excellent, decorated with many bright balls that shimmered in different colors, toys in the form of little bunnies and cheerful angels here and there, giving pleasure and peace of mind. For complete peace of mind, you only had to place the most important decoration — a crystal star. So you once again stood up on your toes to reach the top of the tree, but again failed and whined irritably.

You were completely disappointed, sulking at yourself and your insufficient height, although your lover never stopped telling you that you're the most beautiful for him, and that you don't need to be taller or shorter, because you're perfect just the way you are. Suddenly, you felt your feet leave the ground, and your feet no longer felt the softness of the shag carpet that gently caressed your feet. Your lover's strong arms lifted you up, holding your waist carefully. You let out a sound of excitement and joy.

"Ajax!" Your voice sounds like thousands of bells, and the man's soul flutters with love, listening to the beautiful sound of your laughter. You grab his shoulders tightly and your eyes find his, filled with love and adoration.

"What do we have here? Is anyone having a little problem?" Childe teases you kindly, enjoying your embarrassed and pouty face. He wants to bite your chubby cheeks so much! But first he must help you.

"Be serious! Can you stop teasing for at least five minutes?" You decided to continue his little game, and when Tartaglia realized this, his blue eyes sparkled mischievously. He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, enjoying the weight of your body in his arms.

"Sorry, baby, I can't help but tease you when you pout your cheeks so cute." A blush spreads across your face as you hear those words and see his smug smirk. You know you'll never have a chance to beat him in this little game.

"Alright, alright. You won." You rolled your eyes, focusing your attention back on the Christmas tree.

"As always!"

The ginger man's handsome face lights up with sincere joy, and you cannot contain your happy smile too. You bring the Christmas tree decoration closer to his face, and Ajax looks at the crystal star.

"Here. I need your help to place this star on the tree." You say shyly. "I can't reach the top, so you could do it for me."

Childe just smiles and shakes his head, "Let's do this together."

A bright smile lights up your face, and you nod happily, feeling Tartaglia's strong arms gently lift you a little higher. Where the bright and beautiful star should have been located. The feeling of your husband's support makes you more confident and happier, and, now being right in front of the top of the tree, you solemnly decorate the tree with a bright crystal star. The room is illuminated with a shimmer of bright colors, an atmosphere of happiness and celebration hovers around the two of you. Your eyes light up with joy at the sight of this beauty.

You feel the man turn your body towards him again. Your heart flutters at how beautiful Ajax was in the light of the fire burning in the fireplace. The man gives you a gentle smile, behind which hides a little bit of slyness.

"Well, I helped you." He looks innocent and then smiles playfully again. "What about my reward?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck contentedly and leaned closer to your husband's face, smiling slyly and taking him by surprise for a second. "Since you were so kind and helped me, I will gladly give you your reward."

Your lips met his in a sensual kiss, and your bodies are filled with the fire of intense passion. Love fills your entire being and there will never be an end to it. The softness of your lips, the tenderness of your hands, the passion and lust of intertwined tongues inflames a frantic desire. It seemed like you both could never fully get enough of each other. Ajax breaks your kiss, listening to how deeply you breathe, trying to even out your breathing. Your red cheeks betray your embarrassment. But still you smile happily.

"Merry Christmas, Ajax." Your soft lips touch his freckled nose, and a stupid, loving smile appears on his lips.

"Merry Christmas, Y/n, my love." Childe answers and takes you into another kiss filled with adoration and love.

#tartaglia x reader #childe x y/n #childe x reader #tartaglia x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #tartaglia fluff #childe fluff #tartaglia imagines #childe x you #childe imagines #tartaglia x you #genshin men x reader #genshin men #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x female reader

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chouxsardine · 4 months

Text

Ticked (all my boxes) — Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: It's December 24th, but you've still got so much to do. --A look into y/n's Christmas Eve with Jake in the form of a to-do list

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 5655

Warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, nearly 6k of PURE FLUFF

Genre: holiday fic, tooth-rotting fluff

Tips: Some may prefer an uninterrupted reading experience, but I have linked some visual cues to the specific items mentioned in the fic so you can better visualize them. You can click when you see an underlined word. Please suit yourself :)

Author's note: This is my GVF Secret Santa gift for @nina-23-45 (if you are Nina, please click here for A Letter from Santa; Sorry for the wait!!). This is the longest fic I've written. As challenging as it is, I honestly had so much fun writing it, it has certainly helped me find the joy of writing again, and I wish to share it with all of you. I hope you are staying cozy, happy, and healthy. Happy holidays. This is a long one, so grab your hot cocoa, make yourself comfy, snuggle with your pets, put on some of your favourite holiday tunes, and...enjoy!!

🎧: everyone has their own favourite Christmas songs, so take your pick! But I do recommend listen to Cause We've ended as Lovers by Jeff Beck when you have time

7:00 AM You crack open an eye. The red digital numbers on the bedside clock becomes clearer in your vision. You try to move and feel Jake’s arm wrapped protectively around your midsection. You turn your head slightly, and there is your lover: his hair covering half of his face, breathing long and even, soundly asleep like some royal prince from a medieval oil painting, although you know he’d probably prefer to look like a pirate with a pipe hanging out of his mouth, if he had the choice. The thought of that brings a smile to your face. You manage to escape from Jake’s hug without waking him up, moving one frame at a time like a character in a slowed-down stop motion film. Jake lets out a grunt as you finally climb out of bed. You hold your breath nervously, but he doesn’t stir, just rubs his cheek further into the pillow. You place a feathery kiss on his temple and tiptoe downstairs.

You were never a morning person, but tomorrow is Christmas and you know it is going to be a long day of preparation. You put the kettle on, taking out two mugs from the cupboard, and find yourself staring eye to eye with Blackbeard. That’s the mug you got for Jake when you started living together. He has been using it ever since. He even drinks whiskey out of it. (“No one drinks whiskey out of a mug, Jake.” “I’m the Captain, I make ship happens if I want to!” refutes Jake in his Oliver Reed voice)

The whistling kettle pulls back your attention. You pour the boiling water over the tea bags. The living room is dimly lit. A certain kind of dimness mixed with a humidity that is unique to winter days. You peak through the blinds, the snow has stopped; everything is covered in white.

You stand in front of the open fridge as a pair of arms snake around your waist, following by Jake’s chin resting on your shoulder.

“Morning, beautiful.”

“Hmm, it’s still very early. Did I wake you up?” You reach your hand back to ruffle up his hair.

“Nope, the bed is just cold without you.”

“What do you want for breakfast, anything that caught your eye?” Holding the fridge door open without taking further action is your guilty pleasure; you feel like an old Duchess inspecting her prized jewelry collection.

“Dunno. Omelet?” You’re not even sure if Jake’s eyes are open from how sleepy his voice sounds.

“Sure, but only if you are making it. I can never get them to the right texture and it pisses me off!” You scold dramatically as you retrieve the eggs.

“Uh-uh, can’t have a pissed-off y/n for Christmas,” Jake takes over the carton, “but I do know she makes some killer sausage patties.”

Lord, this man knows how to hype you up, even when it’s the simplest task of throwing some pre-cooked frozen meat into the oven.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are sitting at the table. You sink your fork into a piece of omelet. Upon tasting it, your eyes light up immediately. The outside maintains its shape with lightly crispy edges while the inside melts away in a creamy concoction.

“Jake, this tastes like liquid sun!” You compliment in awe.

Jake snorts out a chuckle at your analogy, trying to wave it off, despite the fact that he is obviously flustered. As the good girlfriend that you are, of course you won’t let go of the chance to tease him. So you wave you fork like a baton and hum your improvised tune: “Jakey boy did it again, oh he done did it again!”

This time Jake is full-on laughing. “Come on, y/n. It’s just an omelet.”

“How dare you?” You gasp, pretending to be offended. “This is not JUST an omelet, this omelet has…” you lower your voice and flutter your fingers around the food, “rock star magic in it!”

What a nice way to start off the day, you think as you chew on another forkful of egg, certainly worth sacrificing some sleep.

✅ A nice morning with a full belly.

10:00 AM You push and the wooden door opens with a jingle and a creak. You hurry inside and are wrapped in a warm embrace of the musty smell of paper and expired mothballs. The ruddy-cheeked old man behind the counter looks up from the tome in front of him and greets you warmly: “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning, Mr. Friesen.” You hold your freezing fingers near the wood stove that stands in the centre of the room. “It’s so cold out there today.”

“On the brighter side, we get a white Christmas, ain’t so lucky last year.”

Friesen’s is your favourite second-hand book store around town. You have been a regular since freshman year in college, and you have lost count of how much money you saved by relying on the old textbooks you found here. Naturally, you have acquainted yourself with its friendly and mysterious owner. Mr. Friesen is quite the myth and legend himself. From his conversation with customers that you’ve accidentally eavesdropped over the years, you pieced together that he used to be the frontman of a rock band in the 70s before one of his bandmates sadly passed away in an accident. He opened the bookshop as an extension of his basement collection thirty years ago.

“I have the books here for you. They are still in decent condition, a rare find these days. Whoever’s getting them must be lucky.”

One good thing about the Friesen’s is that if there’s something specific you’re looking for, you can always request it. There’s no guarantee, but Mr. Friesen will try his best; and this man never disappoints. A few weeks ago, you asked him to keep an eye out for any American classics: Hemingway, Fitzgerald and the like, planning to give them to Josh as his Christmas present. You were losing hope until you received a last-minute call from the bookshop, telling you that a rare first edition of John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row is ready for you to pickup.

“I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re such a gem,” you smile. “And I have a little Christmas present for you as well.” You pull out a wrapped vinyl from your tote bag.

“Oh you don’t have to do that, my dear,” Mr. Friesen peels back the wrapping paper. “Oh! Phil Sector’s Christmas Album, I don’t have this one yet. What a nice addition to my collection. Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Friesen. It’s the least I can do. You’ve always been so kind to me.”

The old man hums before looking up at you somewhat smugly. “Now, excuse me for being nosy, but how’s it going with that rock star boyfriends of yours?”

Despite being together for so long and being open about your relationship, you still blush when people mention Jake as your boyfriend in public. You have brought Jake to the bookstore before, while things between you were still platonic. If Mr. Friesen sensed anything then, he never let it show.

Taking in your expression, Mr. Friesen beams meaningfully, “Well, I think he’s a lucky guy. You can always tell from a person’s appearance when they’re with the right one, and I can see it in you. I’ll say he’s a keeper, that kid.”

“That’s such a nice thing for you to say,” you reply shyly.

“Well, I shouldn’t be keeping you any longer. It seems like someone is already waiting,” Mrs. Friesen motions outside the window. You follow his gaze and see Jake standing across the street.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Friesen. Thank you again.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Merry Christmas.”

Outside the bookshop, Jake is kicking a chunk of ice between his feet while he waits for you.

“Do You have everything you need?” You ask.

“Yes. Do you?” he holds out his elbow and you happily hook your arm through it.

“Yup.” You show him the book wrapped in brown paper.

“Huh,” He huffs in a playfully offended voice, “someone’s got the good stuff this year.”

You slight elbow him in the ribs. “Hoy, you green-eyed monster, that’s because Josh’s on the good list this year.”

“Oh, is that so? How did I make it onto the naughty list then?”

“The possibilities are endless!” You exaggerate, holding out your hands to count, “first, for being the sexy little swine that you are…”

You and Jake could probably go on like this forever if weren’t for the fact that you’re arriving at your destination. To finish some last minute Christmas shopping is the only reason that you are outside on such a cold day. You and Jake have decided to “divide and conquer”, with you going to the bookshop to pick up Josh’s gift and Jake going to the liquor store to for some nice Prosecco for the family gathering tomorrow. Then, you will go to the mall together to pick up the present for your cousin.

Rewind to about an hour ago:

As much as your cousin is a sweetheart, it is a real pain to buy Christmas presents for her. And as the procrastinator that you are, of course, you put it off until the last minute to make decisions. Last but not the least, you comfort yourself. Now the time has come for you to have a taste of your own medicine. You were unconsciously tugging your hair as you stared at the coffee table, furrowing your eyebrows deep in concentration.

“Why do you look worried?” Jake plopped down onto the couch next to you.

“I still haven’t got a present for my cousin.” You rubbed your temple and groaned. “I feel like she’s got everything. Everyone always says, ‘oh it’s not about the gift’, but I couldn’t go to her empty handed! I mean, it’s Christmas, people are expecting gifts anyways.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I have an idea.” Jake reached for his phone and you perked up.

“I saw this the other day, do you think it will suit her?” Jake showed you a picture of what happens to be a magnetic key holder. “Ronnie has mentioned it before, and I saw it at the mall the other day. Didn’t you tell me that your cousin just got her own place earlier this month? It could be a nice housewarming slash Christmas gift.”

“No, you didn’t! ” You almost jolted up from the sofa. “Aww, thank you, Jake! you don’t have to do that!”

“That’s okay, love, anything that takes worries away from my girl.” He beams back at you. “Now we just need to go to the store to pick it up.”

You have always known Jake for being the most caring and attentive lover. But this is on a whole another level. The fact that he even keeps the most mundane trifles you blurt out in mind shows how much he cares. You have already been deeply incorporated into his life, his every decisions now will always include the factor of “you”. The thought makes your heart melt.

Therefore, here you are now, standing in front of the mall entrance.

Although Jake has made your task a thousand times easier, you still hated going into the mall. The crowd, the music, all the right ingredients for sensory overload.

“Last-minute Christmas shopping, yeah?”

“Okay, deep breath,” Jake holds both of your hands in his, eyes shining with encouragement. “I know the exact shelf it’s on. We’ll go in and out, quick as a bunny, a Christmas Bunny, alright?”

“Yeah, okay, we can do this.” You nod.

“One, two, three….go!”

And like Mario Karts you two set off.

You are sure there are people passing by watching you two adults giggling and pushing through the revolving doors like you are lunatics, but you don’t give a hoot. You love embracing your inner child from time to time, and you just happen to be so lucky to have the right person who makes you feel at ease doing so.

✅ Drop off vinyl and pick up the book for Josh at Friesen’s Christmas present for (your cousin’s name)

2:15 PM The film is still playing in the background, you must’ve fallen asleep. See, you just know that waking up too early isn’t for you.

You feel exhausted after your gift-hunting excursion, so you decide to watch a film together while snacking on some chips. Your Christmas movie list is like no other—none of the fluffy rom coms like The Holidays or Love Actually, also no household classics like Home Alone or Miracle on 34th Street. To be fair, you have nothing against them, you just prefer something that brings more of an adrenaline rush. Therefore, your picks consist mainly of psychological thrillers and horror movies. You remember feeling apprehensive when you first told Jake about it, thinking it would be weird for a girl to choose The Shining over Titanic. But Jake is completely unbothered. Instead, he loves that about you. “Love my girl quirky,” is how he had put it. “And I get to hold you if you’re scared.” (You always protest that you’re not, but sometimes you do, and you have to admit it does feel nice to have someone’s shirt to bury your face into just in case some scenes get too intense for your liking). Actually, you think now you’ve successfully gotten Jake into it as well. He especially likes to plague you with his theories after you have finished the movie, turned off the lights, and snuggled under the duvets. (“But do you think he really killed her? I mean, what if—-” “Jake, enough!”)

But now, art kind of imitates life. The house feels weirdly empty and quiet. Jake is no where in sight.

“Jake?” Not in the bathroom. Not in his studio in the basement. Not in the garage either.

Just as you are staring to wonder if this is some kind of prank, you look outside the window and saw a familiar figure in the backyard. Jake was standing near the fence, fumbling with something. His back is turned against you, so you couldn’t figure out what he is doing.

It starts snowing again. The crisp air outdoor whips all the sleepiness clear from your head. You wrap your arm around yourself and walk towards Jake. He must be really focused on whatever he is doing because he didn’t hear you approaching at all. Now you are standing close enough to see clearly.

He uses a gift card to scoop up some snow, flattens it with his palm, and then adheres the now thin slice of snow to a stick. There are already layers attached to it; the shape of it somewhat resembles a flower.

“Jake, what are you doing up here?”

Jake spins around. For a moment, he wears the expression of a child being caught red-handed stealing cookies from the countertop. And then you see what he is holding in his hand.

It is a half-finished rose, but made of snow.

“Shh, it’s almost done. Just give me a moment.” Jake has that serious look on his face, the same one on stage when he was looking down at his guitar through hooded eyes, a slight crease at the inner corner of his eyebrows; his lips pressed, showing his Marionette lines. His long eyelashes give the false impression that he has his eyes closed.

The snows has accumulated over night and reached a rather firm texture, which is idea for shaping. But it is also naturally brittle. Even if you are not the one making it, you can tell that it requires one to find the sweet spot between melting the snow and wetting it just enough so that it sticks. You see Jake’s hand red with cold and your heart wrenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to care at all. You want stop him right there, but something about his demeanour tells you that he really wants to show you the result.

It seems that Jake got the gist of it pretty quickly. He repeats the process a few more times and there it is, a rose made of snow. The layered petals hug around the bud, its edges crystal and flimsy like cicadas’ wings. He picks it up by the stem carefully and extends it to you.

“Here, a rose for my dearest.”

You are too stunned to speak, struck by the beauty frozen in time. You don’t know where he gets the idea from, but it is such an endearing gesture, him leaving the warm bedside of his soundly asleep lover, standing in the cold, molding snow with his bare hands, just so that he could surprise her.

“I…I love this so much. Thank you, Jake.”

When you look up at Jake, your eyes are stinging with tears. The tip of Jake’s nose is frozen red, as well as his cheeks. He was looking at you with a toothy grin. As cliché as it may sound, Jake truly came into your life like a knight in an armour made of starlight. Being in a relationship with him has taught you so much more about growth, trust, and loyalty. He adores and cherishes you with all his heart. He will always make an effort for you, will always firmly choose you and stand by you to support you. Shy he maybe, when he loves, he never holds back. A single rose has always meant the words, “I love you”; it holds all his love.

“Don’t cry, my dear, your tears are gonna freeze too. I wanted you to be happy.” Jake coos, wiping away your tears. The coldness of his thumb reminds you of you shouldn’t be wasting more time on stupid tears and Jake should get his hands warmed up.

“Wait here!” You yell over your shoulder as you run inside the house. Don’t even bother taking off your wet boots; you grab a Tupperware and a piece of styrofoam laying around from the gift wrappings and rush back out.

“This is going to live in my fridge forever.”

Jake laughs as he helps you stab the snapped stem onto the styrofoam to secure the rose in the container. “It is truly amazing how romance always resides in the ephemeral and transient things. It is lucky that we still have eyes that can see and a heart that is still beating to appreciate them.”

“Yes, but not everyone is lucky to have this kind of beauty and happiness captured for them, though.” You put his hands into the pocket of your coat as you walk back inside, “Oh, Jakey boy, what have I done to deserve you?”

✅ A snow rose. This one is uncalled for, but hey, what’s a to-do list if there wasn’t some surprise interruption, especially when it’s an incredibly precious one like this.

7:45 PM You have been checking on your snow rose every time you open the fridge (which is very often), like checking on the pet goldfish you’ve got in kindergarten.

“Baby, you know it’s not gonna grow legs and run away, right?” Jake leans against the kitchen counter. “With that much snow out there, I could just make you another—-”

“Don’t you dare risk those money makers for things like this again!” You give him a pointed look. You have been babying Jake’s hands since the moment you got back inside: running them under lukewarm water, submerging them in a basin of warm water with essential oil, rubbing and massaging his fingers to accelerate blood circulation, you even made him apply some coconut-scented hand cream (“My hands smell like piña colada”). Jake has to assure you thrice or even more times that he feels just fine, but still, you give him that suspicious “mom” look. (“Y/n, I promise you my hands are fine. They are strong guitar fingers, they can hold against a little chills. Plus, I’ve broken my arm before and——-” “Shhhhh! Knock on wood, Jake!”)

“Anyways, I think the cookie dough should be done chilling. Do you mind taking them out after you’ve done inspecting your rose, my love?”

You are baking some cookies for the family gathering tomorrow. You have found a recipe for Aquarium Cookies, which upgrades the traditional stained glass cookies by pressing two of them together and creating some space in between for sprinkles. You are also going to bake some regular sugar cookies using the instrument-shaped cookie cutters you bought, one symbol for each boy.

Baking is your favourite Christmas activities. It warms up the house—both temperature and atmosphere-wise, and makes it smell like a bakery. And nothing beats decorating cookies.

Think about it, a gingerbread house is too limited, and let’s be honest, half of it mostly ended up in the stomachs of some raccoons. Decorating a whole cake is too daunting, but cookies, cookies are perfect! Perfect size, perfect usage, no waste, everyone’s happy.

“They are basically edible canvases,” you tell Jake as he hands you a rolled-out dough.

“Y/n, have I told you how I love the way you brain works? ‘Liquid sun’, 'edible canvases’. Listen to yourself, you are basically a lyricist.”

How does Jake just constantly whips out compliments out of thin air and make your heart flutters like colourful flags in the wind? You smile bashfully. However, the next second, that smile turns into a pout as you remove the cookie cutter and find out that the guitar cookie has a broken neck again.

“Jake, I broke it again,” you whine.

“Here, let me try.” Jake takes over your failed attempts, crumbles it into a ball and flattens it with the rolling pin.

You hold your breathe as Jake gently lifts up the mold. The cookie lies pliantly in his hands. No break. It is kind of magical how Jake can basically “tame” all the guitars in the world if he wants to, even if they’re composed of flour, butter, and sugar.

“How do you do that?” you marvel. “Really, how come you are so good at cooking?” Jake made pasta for dinner using his secret sauce recipe. You helped yourself to two servings.

“Hmm, because I’m a good poet.” Jake says as he produces another perfectly drum-shaped cookie.

“Enlighten me, please.”

“‘A good poet differs nothing at all from a master-cook. Either’s art is the wisdom of the mind’.”

Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at your star-struck fangirl face, “Not my words, it’s from Ben Johnson’s ‘Neptune's Triumph for the Return of Albion’.”

Of course, of course, he would just quote some 17th-century play like it’s some item off the grocery list. You shouldn’t be expecting anything less from a man who recites poetry while launching a paper plane.

✅ Bake and decorate Christmas cookies (philosophically, with a side of literature)

9:43 PM You decided to go to bed early so that you would have enough energy for the official Christmas Day tomorrow. You are going to Karen and Kelly’s house around noon for the family gathering and dinner. But there remains one very important thing to do before you sleep, and you have been waiting in excitement the whole day like a pupil on their way for a field trip.

You and Jake will do your personal gift-opening on Christmas Eve. It is a special and intimate moment just between the two of you when you elope as lovers to your own love nest. It is a time that you deliberately reserve for yourselves away from all the hectic holiday bustle. It has been a tradition of yours, something you probably will keep on doing even after you have kids in the future (that is, if you decide to have them), just to remind yourselves of the special bond you share. And nothing and no one will change it, not the possibilities of additional family members nor the passage of time.

A string version of Last Christmas is playing in the background. Some may consider it a worn-out tune, but it holds a special place in your heart. It brings you back to your sweet elementary school years, where you and your friends would secretly meet together after school and rehearse the song for the school’s annual Christmas party. You guys were so serious about it, coming up with the choreography and everything. And you also remember your mom showing Jake the pictures of your performance when he met your parents for the first time. You feel embarrassed, but Jake finds you adorable in your silly little Santa hat and fluffy costume. Since then, he has made a mental note to always have some version of this song playing in the house around the holiday seasons.

You are wearing one of Jake’s sweaters. It’s a green acrylic sweater from his younger years. He once let you borrow it on a particularly rainy camping trip, and it was the first piece of clothing that you’ve “adopted” from his closet after you got together. The sleeves are a bit long for you, always covering half of your palms when you put your arms down, but you love it; it feels like holding Jake’s hands.

You treat this activity with an almost ritualistic seriousness, making sure you are in your most comfortable state, both mentally and physically.

“Come sit, angel,” Jake pats the space on the carpet next to the fireplace where he is sitting.

You happily oblige. You will play a round of rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first. This time Jake loses, so he will start first.

He reaches under the Christmas tree and pulls out a small box with forest green wrapping paper. You almost feel bad for ripping the paper just because how beautiful the colour is. You open the lid to reveal a little witch figurine. She is about twenty centimetres tall and made out of wool. She wears a dress with a mixed shade of orange, warm brown hair hanging down to her waist, and a tawny pointy hat with a milky ribbon proudly sitting on top. She holds an Oslo grey broom in her hand, her arms opening as if she is caught in the middle of welcoming someone. The metal spring attachment in the bottom showing her function as a tree topper.

“She is so beautiful!” Your thumb brushes her dress, the wool so smooth and soft.

“It is only right to have her look after the house for my little quirky girl,” Jake says. “Do you want to put it up and see how it looks?”

You nod excitedly and step onto the stool beside the tree. Just like magic, she blends into the whole look perfectly, adding a rustic charm and a warm glow to the evergreen. It is as if she’s belonged there all along.

“I love her already. Thank you so much, baby.” You bend down to kiss Jake on the lips. He knows you so well, he knows that your fantasy since you were a little girl has been living in the woods as a witch, and he remembers how excited you were when the music video of Meeting the Master came out.

“Now, my next gift may need you to help me out a bit,” you say as you walk towards the bookshelf. Jake stands within reaching distance, watching you in curiosity as you move the metal vase stand out of the way and then reach into the gap between the bookshelf and the wall with your right arm. He helps you drag out a long rectangular box.

“Wow, sneaky move here, y/n.” Jake teases. “But that’s a good hiding spot though, I wouldn’t have thought.”

“That’s the point,” you smirk. You are quite proud of yourself, honestly. Jake has been at the studio a lot this month, and you did not let those hours go to waste. Jake wanders around the house when he can’t sleep at night, and you have contemplated a lot of hiding spots.

“This is big stuff,” Jake tears away the wrapping. You got Jake a Whiskey Barrel guitar holder. As the name suggests, it holds three guitars and is made out of staves from renowned bourbon distilleries. The wood is sanded and matt coated, with the black marks of the barrel rings showing its origin. Each piece is unique.

“Merry Christmas! I thought it’d be a nice addition to your studio downstairs.” You lace your fingers together nervously.

“I say it’s a perfect upgrade! The Gibsons are definitely going up on the walls, baby!” Jake presents a winsome smile. “Thank you so much, y/n.”

If your excitement are already bubbling, now it has been dialed up even higher. You and Jake have one last gift for each other and both of you love to save the best for last.

“I didn’t wrap this next one, because I have been literally still adding to it as of today. Now close your eyes.” You move to sit across from Jake.

Jake feels something like a book being laid in his lap. He opens his eyes and sees what appears to be a leather sketchbook. You nod and motion him to flip through it.

They are sketches. Sketches of him. The first page is a sketch of Jake sitting on the lawn and holding his guitar He recognizes that’s one of your first dates at the park. There’s Jake in his sword and rose costume on stage. You have always told him that is one of your favourite costumes of his. There’s Jake in his aprons, stirring something over the stove. There’s Jake soundly asleep, you must’ve sketched that one while he was taking a nap….the last page, freshly dated, concludes with the sketch of a single rose, resembling the one he made for you earlier this afternoon. You have used your pencil as an old-fashion camera and encapsulated all the lovely moments between you on paper.

“I’m not the best with my sketching, but you know, I’m improving. Also, it is not fair for you to be so pretty that it is difficult to draw.” You cheeks now are rosy pink.

“No, sweetheart, these are perfect,” Jake reaches to cup your face, “you know I have always adored your drawings.” He can also see you through the pages; you sitting by the table, stealing glances at him, nibbling on the back of the pencil. The weight of the sketchbook is way more than just paper and lead; it is also his lover’s heart.

“So, to wrap up the night.” Jake gets up and lifts the needle off the playing record. The room becomes quiet, brewing with anticipation. He pulls out his lap top and turns it to face you. On the desktop, there’s a folder labeled with your name; a single audio file lies in it. Jake turns the volume to the fullest and clicks on the file.

Within five seconds, you have recognized it is Jeff Beck’s Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers. Or, should you say, Jake’s version of Jeff Beck’s Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers. The song is without a doubt your all-time favourite guitar solo. The whole Blow by Blow album is amazing, but you have taken a special liking to this song. Yes, it is sad, but it is bittersweet in a poignant and amicable way. It is an elegiac of old lovers but also an affirmation and proof of a beautiful memory, representing the a part of life that is forever altered just because you have crossed path with someone. For the whole five minutes and forty-two seconds, it is as if you are transported to another dimension. Now, this song has become even more significant to you. The fact that Jake covers and records it for you feels makes it particularly personal and intimate. You try to picture him standing in the studio, in a similar position as the figure on the album cover.

A single tear escapes the corner of your eye and Jake is quick to catch it with his thumb. You hold his hand close to your face, kissing his fingers gently.

“I’m in my feels again,” you say after taking a deep breathe, “continue to make me cry and I will need to go check on my emotional support rose again.”

Jake chuckles. “Aww, I am glad you like it, love. Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you so much. I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too, doll.” He scoots over closer. “Now, can I get another kiss from my girl?”

Surely he can, but you just want to tease him a bit more.

“Oops, I’m afraid you can’t, sir. I see no mistletoe around here.” You grin mischievously.

Jake was prepared for your impishness. He grabs his phone and quickly searches up a photo of mistletoe. Holding it above your heads, he raises his eyebrows, a silent “how about now?”

You roll your eyes. “Come here already, you dork.”

✅ Give Jake his gifts. (The guitar holder is hiding behind the bookshelf)

10:21 PM Having exhausted almost every single item on your to-do list, it is finally time to relax. You lie in each other’s arm like a pretzel. You are dozing off to the steady rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat. You must have ended up on the nice list this year. You are so grateful for all you have, for being loved and cared for in every way.

✅ Snuggle with Jake. Tell him how much you love him.

Mentally, you tick off the last box of your Christmas Eve to-do list before falling into a dream filled with marshmallows and hot chocolate, starlight and lover.

Here, you made it!! Thank you so much for reading.

Just in case you want to check out more of my works:

Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones ||

I'm just starting off with writing fics for gvf, please leave a comment or send me an ask/message if you would like me to put up a tag list :)

#jake kiskza x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf secret santa #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka

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