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saltygilmores · 3 months

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(Gilmore Girls) talking points I can and will discuss for hours at any time (mostly Jess stuff though)

Saw someone do this on Instagram and thought I'd do it too.

Dean is An Abomination and his own parents tried to abandon him on the side of the road (he made his way back somehow, crafty son of a bitch) Lorelai is a terrible horrible no good immature person, a gignatic hypocrite, a bad mother, and she dismisses and often encourages Dean’s abuse towards Rory How Lorelai married into Jess' family and now there SHOULD BE a cloud of shame hanging over her head that she treated her nephew like shit for no reason for years and now she has to look him in the eye at every holiday and family gathering for the rest of time, but she has no shame. Aunt Lorelai remember when I was 17 you said I should die in a fire and you'd rather save your shoes? Anyway, Pass the turkey. How much does Rory tell Jess about what Lorelai says about him behind his back Lorelai and Dean's affair (The DALA)

Justice for Lindsay Lister Nearly any Pre and Post Stars Hollow Jess Headcanon (That Usually Do Not Involve Rory) (his entire childhood, his entire adulthood, his ho life, his success as a popular author, Jess as a brother to Doula, life in Philadelphia, stories with his Truncheon buddies, Jess as a mediocre drug dealer in NYC #heytawd), Jess traveling cross country (love that one so much I made an absolutely massive Spotify playlist to accompany it), did he ever go to college? Among the carousel of rotating Mom's Boyfriends and Stepfathers did he ever have a few good ones in the mix? Liz likely didn't have a car and would never care to teach him, so who taught him how to drive?

If Jess had such a terrible childhood did Luke ever try to intervene? How much did he know? How much did he see Jess as a kid? Was Jess ever in foster care? Liz Danes...just Liz Danes. Could probably discuss this trainwreck and the people in her orbit until i was blue in the face. I have thoughts. Headcanon: Jess has had sex with any other similarly-aged existing character on the show besides Rory at some point (this would be in the future, during his Ho Years.. I don't really find any joy in the thought of him cheating on Rory) Where do Rory and Jess go on the dates that are (infrequently) implied they have Why does Luke always bring up how severely he underpays Jess for working a the diner? How often does Jess wait on Rory and Lorelai's table? Do they actually tip him, ever? Shane, Shane’s murder The date of Jess' birthday (it's late August or early September, babes. I'm unflinching on this but willing to hear all sides)

The origin of Jess’ unusual name How do Jess and Rory celebrate birthday and holidays together (within the OG series timeline)? If they actually do? Does Jess actually want to celebrate his birthday or Christmas? What gifts do they buy each other? The prom that never was Rory loses her virginity to a stupid butthead but doesn't put out for Jess for like 8 months and frequently teases him while the poor thing doesn’t even have the privacy to jack it once in a while to a Maxim magazine (but also, did they or did they not come fairly close off screen at some point, when and where?) gurl you interrupted a steamy makeout session so you could run home and talk to your mom! You talk to your mom every second of every day! And before that, you run away after your first real make out sesh so you could go talk to Dean! You are beyond help. What is up with that "We haven't seen each other in four years" comment between Jess and Rory in AYITL? What the hell happened in 2012? What is the day to day life in Stars Hollow High like between Jess, Dean, Lane, Lindsay without Rory around? Do Dean and Jess have any classes together? Where do they sit in the cafeteria? How come Lane and Dean never told Rory that Jess was skipping school? Especially when Dean has an incentive to spill the tea (getting Jess in trouble) and Lane is a hopeless gossip and there's no effing way she could keep something like that from Rory for that long

What is The Subsect actually about

What would it be like if Jess went to Chilton with Rory? How would he even get in (I really have to stretch the limits of my imagination but I have a few weak theories)

Madelyn and Louise (they’re awesome)

The friendships that could have been between Jess and Paris or Jess and Lane

How Rory is too dopey to see that Paris is in love with her

How disaster follows every female character who loses their virginity (even when in the confines of marriage)

The child bride epidemic on this show

Dave Ryglaski is mediocre. Alex is under rated and it’s a shame the Male Gilmore Girls Character California Wormhole probably sucked him in like Dave was, never to be seen again.

I don’t even care about her storyline: April as a character is so incredibly annoying I can’t watch any scene she is in.

Jason DiggerStjmes is so uninteresting and his chemistry with Lorelai is so weak and the insurance storylines are so fucking insipid I have to skip all of those scenes too.

The only characters who emerged from season 6 with any sort of diginity intact were Jess and Paul Anka.

#gilmore girls #jess mariano

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

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hello!!!! happy 500!!!! can I request #2 with gn MC for Simeon and Barbatos?

"i missed you."

your statement was barely above a murmur, voice muffled against his skin as you cuddled further into him. you could still feel the linger warmth on his skin from the everlasting daylight of the celestial realm, still smell the pleasant aroma that wafted through the heavenly fields on his clothes. the days stretched endlessly while your angel was away on business, but finally, finally, simeon had returned.

"i missed you too, love," he cooed, voice low and soft, endlessly fond for you and only you. "although, i must admit, if this is how you'll greet me when i return, maybe i'll find more reasons to travel to the celestial realm..."

"you wouldn't dare."

"is that so?"

"simeon..." you whined-- an effective warning not to toy with you, apparently, because the angel laughed.

"i'm only kidding. you know i don't like when we're apart."

"mmm, me too."

you cuddled closer into his arms, practically smothering him under your weight to dispel any future fantasies of him leaving you like that again. he welcomed your protests with open arms-- literally-- strong arm wrapped around your waist while the other rubbed soothing circles into your back.

the two of you savored the silence, your intertwined limbs and synched breathing becoming the only thing that mattered that evening. your heart is full. your angel has returned. there were stories to be shared about his duties and the adventures you went on waiting for his return. those could wait. right now, all you wanted was to feel his body on yours, feel his heart beat under your fingertips again-- to remind him what will always be waiting for him back home.

it's go time.

when you open your eyes for the first time on that fateful morning, you felt like a kid on christmas. fuzzy socks helped you maximize your speed as you rushed through your morning routine. impatient hands began to multitask for you, smearing face wash and squeezing colorful toothpaste tubes to get you ready faster.

what exactly was so exciting today? today was, finally, the day that diavolo's business trip to the human world had come to an end. him and lucifer had been gone for the past week, leaving the castle quiet and your life dull.

more importantly, though: barbatos was arriving home today.

your beloved demon would be back, soon, and you were already running late. you scrambled through the house of lamentation and out the front door in record time. you'd become an expert by now at dodging the brother's interrogations, especially when it came to all the times you'd disappear to the demon castle to spend time with barbatos.

the staff of the castle knew you well. you were given the green light to loiter about, anxiously wringing your hands together in anticipation of their arrival. so when a portal finally opened in the main hall, you were there first, eyes wide, hoping to see the familiar faces you loved.

and, of course, you did. lord diavolo entered first, greeting you jovially, followed by a tired lucifer, with barbatos bringing up the rear and closing the portal behind them. you waited. patiently, in your opinion, but the slight smirk on lucifer's face made it clear you were a little too eager for the butler's attention.

finally, barbatos found his way to yourself, momentarily free of his responsibilities. his gaze was soft, focused only on you, green eyes drifting over your form like it had been too long since he'd last seen it.

"mc--" he said evenly, taking your hand in his, leaning over to press a kiss to your knuckles. he held your gaze as he straightened up-- and your hand, for a few extra moments, before letting it gently slip from his grasp.

"--i missed you."

thank you so much for the well wishes! we hit (and have already blown past!) 500 followers as of last weekend and i am so incredibly proud. thank you all for being here and celebrating with me <3

[500 follower event masterlist] // [obey me masterlist]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me writing #obey me x reader #otome #onyourowndaisymae 500 follower event!

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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Looks Like Christmas

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: This is another contribution to @notroosterbradshaw’s #hello december playlist challenge! It was inspired by Michael Bublé’s version of It’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas. Cass, thank you so much again for putting together this challenge! It’s been such a fun way to celebrate my favorite time of year with some of my favorite characters!

For those who read it, see if you can spot the reference to Underneath the Tree in this one!

Warnings: Enough Bradshaw family fluff to give you a toothache.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas Toys in every store But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be On your own front door

Humming softly along with the Christmas music that was jingling from the speakers of the entertainment system, you leisurely made yet another lap around the Christmas tree, carefully arranging the string of multi-colored lights across the dark green boughs in a way that would maximize the twinkling effect once all was said and done.

It was a slow process, made all the slower by the fact that you kept stopping every couple minutes to take a few steps back and admire your handiwork from across the living room, but you didn’t mind. Stringing the lights on the Christmas tree was actually one of your favorite parts of the decorating process, right behind actually getting to decorate the tree. What other people, including your own husband, found to be an incredibly boring and tedious chore, you found peaceful and relaxing. Getting completely swept up in your task, you would have had no idea how much time had even passed, had it not been for the fact that you were keeping a mental tab of how many Christmas songs had played since you’d gotten started.

By the time you finally reached the bottom of the tree, the familiar strains of It’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas had just started swirling around the living room. Moving to the other side of the room, you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head to the side, eyeing the tree critically.

You rather had to agree with Michael Bublé. It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And you absolutely loved it.

Yesterday had been a complete and total whirlwind, with it being Nick’s first Thanksgiving and all. You’d been frantic about making the day as special and memorable as possible, on top of seeing family and friends, to the point that Bradley had forced you to go sit down on the couch and actually enjoy the time you had with your four-month-old son.

“Honey, I know you have your heart set on it, but we don’t have to decorate the apartment for Christmas tomorrow,” your husband had told you later that night, once you were both in bed. “You must be exhausted. Why don’t we just take tomorrow to rest?”

“Not decorate for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving?” you blinked, certain you’d misheard him. That was like blasphemy to your ears. You’d been decorating for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving for as long as you could remember, a tradition you’d had no qualms about introducing Bradley to.

Bradley chuckled, kissing your surprised frown away. “Yeah, should have figured I’d get that reaction,” he teased, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you snuggled up under the covers. “It was only a suggestion, babe.”

“Don’t even joke around like that,” you told him, your eyes crinkling in humor as you started to laugh softly. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, my little Christmas Queen,” Bradley grinned, tucking your head under his chin and pulling you close to his chest.

You were more than happy to proudly wear the moniker of Bradley’s Christmas Queen. Christmas was your very favorite time of year, and nothing brought your heart more joy than bringing the warmth and happiness of the season into your home. Each ornament, each decoration, each little knick-knack that you placed around the apartment told a story—stories from your childhood, stories from Bradley’s childhood, stories from the life the two of you had built together. That was why today was so meaningful to you.

And this Christmas would be the most special one of all, you thought with a smile, lifting the sweet little Baby’s First Christmas ornament that you and Bradley had picked out together, before your precious little bundle of love had even been placed in your arms.

Running your fingers over the delicately embossed bauble, the sound of beloved Christmas carols filling your ears, you didn’t even hear the sound of your husband’s footsteps behind you at first.

“Look who’s up from his nap, just in time to help Mommy decorate the tree,” Bradley’s smiling voice came from behind, wrapping around you like the coziest, most well-loved blanket.

Turning with a bright smile, your heart melted at the sight of Nick sitting up in Bradley’s arms, eagerly reaching out to you with a large, gummy grin.

“There are my boys!” you cooed, carefully placing the ornament you’d been holding down on the coffee table and hurrying over to your two favorite guys, holding your hands out to your son. “Did you get a good nap? Huh?” you asked in a sing-song voice, tickling Nick’s belly lightly before taking him into your arms.

“Well, it was alright,” Bradley yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Oh, you were talking to him,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully, pressing a kiss to the top of Nick’s head. “Listen to Daddy, huh? Already with the bad dad jokes,” you stage-whispered to your son in a conspiratorial voice.

“I heard that. Don’t listen to her, Nick. Your old man is a gold mine of comedy,” Bradley insisted, resting a hand on your son’s back as he leaned over to peck your cheek.

“Maybe unintentionally so,” you winked, rocking the baby in your arms as he buried his chubby fingers in your hair and began tugging.

“Sounds like Mommy’s been spending too much time around Uncle Jake,” Bradley sighed, which elicited a loud laugh from you. “See, Nick? I always know how to make her laugh.”

“Mmm, you do,” you nodded, leaning up to peck his lips. “I’m sorry for teasing. You are very funny,” you assured him. “Daddy is very funny,” you added, looking down at Nick.

Your son just babbled incoherently in response, a little bit of drool dripping down his chin in his enthusiasm, which you wiped away with a gentle finger.

“It’s already looking great in here, honey,” Bradley said, hands on his hips as he began gazing around the living room.

Your husband had been an absolute champ getting the tree and all your decorations over to the apartment in time for you to start decorating today. Being that there was only so much room in your apartment, a lot of your stuff had been put in storage, also known as Penny and Mav’s basement. With Mav’s assistance, Bradley had managed to get everything up to your place by the time you’d woken up that morning.

Which is why he’d happily accepted when you’d suggested that he go lay down at the same time you were putting Nick down for his nap.

You didn’t mind getting things set up on your own, content to listen to your favorite Christmas songs as you opened boxes and determined where everything needed to go. But you were glad that your husband and son were here now, ready to help put the most important touches on the tree.

“Thank you,” you beamed, shifting Nick in your arms and gently taking a hold of his hand as he attempted to pull on your necklace, the necklace that Bradley had given you to wear on your wedding day. The necklace that had belonged to Carole. The necklace that you hardly ever took off. “I should especially thank you for being so patient in wrapping up the lights for the tree last year. It made my work so much easier this year,” you laughed, stepping closer to the tree so Nick could look at the lights in question.

Though you loved getting ready for Christmas, you could fully admit that you were not a fan of cleaning up after Christmas. Taking down the decorations was the most depressing day of the year in your book, and you got rather impatient when it came to putting certain things away.

“Honey, you know that’s going to be a disaster come next year,” Bradley had chuckled last January, watching you unwind the lights off the tree and throw them into a heap on the floor. “Let me wrap them up,” he said, patiently winding them around his arm until they were bound in perfect, neat little loops.

“My knight in shining armor,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Every Christmas Queen needs one,” he winked, capturing your lips with his own.

“Very true,” you laughed, beaming as he helped you put away the rest of the decorations.

“See? I told you a little patience would pay off,” Bradley smirked, pinching your butt playfully.

“Well now you’re officially on light-wrapping duty for the rest of our lives,” you joked, giggling as you adjusted one of the snaps on Nick’s onesie.

“Whatever you say, baby,” Bradley nodded, smiling down at you with a sweetly indulgent twinkle in his eyes. “So should we start decorating then? I know you’ve got us on a strict schedule,” he winked.

“You’re absolutely right about that, Lieutenant. I’m the Admiral when it comes to Christmas decorating in this house,” you teased, jokingly pulling rank.

“Trust me, Nick, we better do what she says,” Bradley warned your son, lifting him out of your arms and settling him against his side. “No one takes decorating more seriously than Mommy.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you smiled, walking back over to the coffee table to pick up the ornament you’d been holding earlier. “Look, sweetie, this ornament is just for you,” you said, holding it out to show Nick. “Daddy and I picked it for you before you were even born. It says Baby’s First Christmas,” you explained, pointing to each word. “That’s you. You’re the baby,” you cooed, poking his belly softly and kissing his nose.

Nick gurgled happily once again, bouncing in Bradley’s arms.

“Oh, yeah, he’s a big fan of that,” Bradley beamed, pressing an affectionate series of kisses to the side of your son’s face in quick succession.

“Do you want to put it on the tree?” you asked with a smile, holding the ornament out to your husband.

“No, you do it, baby,” Bradley insisted, patting Nick’s back gently. “You’re the one who went through hell to bring him into the world. Seems only right,” he added with a lopsided grin.

God, you loved him so much.

“Can’t argue with that logic,” you nodded, winking as you stepped over to the tree and chose a spot right in the center, carefully draping Nick’s ornament over the branch.

“Look at that, buddy. Front and center,” Bradley murmured, pointing enthusiastically at the tree until Nick’s gaze followed the direction of his finger. When your son just stared at the tree, mouth hanging open, Bradley began laughing. “I think he likes it, honey.”

“Do you? Do you like it, sweet boy?” you asked, grinning when you witnessed another luminous smile light up your son’s face. “Do you want to help Mommy and Daddy decorate the rest of the tree?”

Nick let out a loud little babble in response, which you and Bradley took for eager assent.

Decorating the tree took much longer than it had in years past, namely because you and Bradley kept passing the baby back and forth between one another as you grabbed ornaments out of the box and began dispersing them across the branches, stopping every now and then to point out a particularly shiny or interesting looking one to Nick. Your son, the sweet, docile angel that he was, just stared at everything you showed him with wide eyes, seemingly as entranced with Christmas as you had always been.

“Looks like we’ve got another big fan of Christmas in the family,” Bradley winked, setting your son’s bouncer down at the foot of the tree so that the two of you could get a break, while still keeping Nick included in the festivities.

“It’s in the genes. Very powerful stuff,” you replied, your eyes dancing with merriment as you knelt down to carefully settle Nick in the bouncer and strap him in. You smiled and dropped a kiss on his forehead when he began kicking his feet happily.

It was only when you stood back up to continue decorating the tree that you realized the music you’d been playing had come to an end. It had been playing for hours, since you’d first started setting up.

“Oh, baby, can you go turn the music back on?” you called to Bradley from where you were currently standing at the back of the tree.

He didn’t verbally respond, but a moment later, you heard the familiar notes of a classic tune floating across the room once more. And then suddenly, there was a strong pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, and a very familiar mustache brushing against your neck as your husband began peppering you with kisses.

“Mmm,” you sighed contentedly, lowering your hands to rest them over Bradley’s forearms and closing your eyes, enjoying the feel of his kisses.

“I love you,” Bradley whispered against your ear, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, leaning against his chest and reveling in the feel of his strong, protective arms holding you close.

“I was thinking,” he began slowly, his voice sounding like warm honey as his lips moved against the shell of your ear. “Maybe once Nick is asleep for the night, you and I could have a little private fun by the tree. You know, just like last year,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your ear.

You smirked, though your cheeks flamed at the memory of the time you two had spent under the Christmas tree last December. “Hmm,” you hummed, turning slowly so that you were facing him and wrapping your arms around him. “Only if you can guarantee that you’ve been a good boy this year,” you winked.

“Oh, very,” Bradley nodded eagerly, pecking your lips. “The best.”

“Then I’d say it’s a very strong possibility,” you told him, your lips pressed against his.

The look of absolute victory on your husband’s face made you grin from ear to ear.

“But first we finish decorating,” you told him, wagging a teasing finger in his face.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen him move so quickly to fill in the empty spots on your Christmas tree.

Another hour or two slipped by as you and Bradley put the finishing touches on the tree, and then finished decorating the living room. Between the hot cocoa that Bradley made, the music chiming merrily in the background, the lights twinkling all around, and your sweet baby boy cooing happily in your arms, you couldn’t think of a better day you’d ever had in your life.

At one point, you turned around and saw that Bradley had taken Nick back into his arms, walking him around the tree and pointing out all the different ornaments, and the bright, multi-colored lights. You stopped what you were doing at once, taking this opportunity to just soak in a beautiful, candid moment between the two people you loved more than anything else in the world.

Getting to see Bradley become a father, getting to witness the way he loved your little boy, was a gift that you never wanted to take for granted.

Struck by a sudden burst of inspiration, you hurried over to the drawer where you had left the small Polaroid camera that you had recently purchased. Holding it up to your line of sight, you quickly snapped a photograph, Bradley turning his head to look at you only after you’d done it.

“No paparazzi, please,” he joked, holding up a halting hand in your direction.

“Sorry,” you smirked, lowering the Polaroid as the film popped out. “A hot man with a baby? Too sexy to resist,” you teased.

Pulling the photograph out of the camera, you waved it slightly, giving it a few moments to fully develop. When it did, you looked down at it and beamed. It was a beautiful, perfect shot, and one you would cherish always. Both Bradley’s and Nick’s gazes were transfixed on the Christmas tree, Bradley pointing towards an ornament that had been his when he was a little boy.

“What do you think?” you asked, holding the picture up for him to inspect.

“Oh my God,” Bradley breathed out, eyes widening as he looked down at the picture. He just stared, not saying anything else for a moment.

“What is it?” you asked in confusion, glancing between him and the Polaroid picture several times.

“I have to find something,” Bradley said suddenly, gently placing Nick in your arms and marching deliberately over to the cabinet where you stored all the photo albums in your possession.

“Baby, what is it?” you asked again, stroking the back of your son’s head as Bradley began flipping determinedly through a few older albums.

“Look at this, honey,” he exclaimed suddenly, evidently finding what he had been looking for. “Come look at this,” he told you, moving over to the couch and sitting down.

Curiosity piqued, you sat down beside him, settling Nick comfortably on your lap.

“Look,” Bradley smiled, pointing at a small photograph, almost the same size as the Polaroid you’d just taken. The caption beneath it read Bradley’s First Christmas in Carole’s strong hand.

When your eyes beheld the image that Bradley was pointing to, your breath caught in your throat instantly.

It looked almost identical to the photo you’d just taken of Bradley and your son. The man in the photograph was holding a little boy in his arms, hand lifted as he pointed eagerly at one of the ornaments on the Christmas tree. His bright, laughing smile and mustache were the mirror image of your husband’s, just as the baby boy in the photograph looked like your son in every way.

“It was my mom’s favorite picture,” Bradley said softly, gazing at you as you stared down in shock at the photo of him and his father. “She took it while we were decorating the tree, same as you did just now, honey. I just—I can’t get over how much—look,” he breathed out, laying the photograph you’d just taken next to the picture in the photo album.

The similarity was almost too great to be believed.

“I feel like it’s my parents’ way of saying that they’re here with us,” Bradley whispered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “With you. With me. With Nick,” he went on, resting a hand on your son’s back. “It’s just—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Me?” you asked in surprise, eyes widening as you looked up at him. “I didn’t do anything,” you argued, shaking your head slowly.

“Honey, you did everything,” Bradley insisted, cupping your cheek in his hand. “You’ve made this place our home. Everything that we have is so special because of you. And I just want you to know how much I appreciate that. How much I appreciate you. Thank you, baby,” he told you, resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you for being my home.”

You felt tears trickling down your cheeks as you reached up to touch your husband’s face, gazing into his warm brown eyes. “Thank you for being mine.”

Setting the photographs down on the coffee table, Bradley pulled you into his lap, Nick starting to doze off on your chest as the three of you sat bundled up together, taking in the peaceful glow of your newly decorated Christmas tree.

“This is all I ever wanted,” you whispered, laying your head in the crook of his neck as you rested against his chest. “This is all I need for Christmas.”

Bradley smiled, kissing you softly and wrapping his arms around you and Nick. “This is all I need forever.”

#hello december playlist challenge #mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

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inqorporeal · 9 months

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I rescued an orchid from the grocery store last night. It looked small and pathetic, and next to the vibrant purples of the other plants, it was a subtle and lovely burgundy with interesting patterns on the petals. I have had very little luck with plants (other than the Christmas Rose I named Audrey III after it took over the kitchen) but I won't get better if I don't try.

Looked up orchid care instructions on the ride home, so the first thing I did was unpot it to inspect the roots. The poor things were tangled up in a dense brown spongelike thing that was definitely not any sort of potting medium designed to let it breathe and definitely way too damp. Some of the leaves were cold-burnt or broken, there was fuzzy mold on part of it, some of the roots were already browning and squishy from rot. I trimmed everything out carefully, cleaned as much of the brown sponge off as I could (it's adhered to some of the roots and I'm afraid to scrub too hard), and dug out the African violet pot that I got from a craft fair in my hometown years ago.

It's currently recovering wrapped around a little statuette of a shaman with a sandstone base soaked in water, on the windowsill in the bathroom to maximize indirect light, warmth, and humidity. No idea if it'll survive (I'm REALLY concerned about the root rot, which is why I'm letting the roots air out). But I ordered some potting medium and fertilizer which should arrive soon, so we'll see.

#life of inq #orchid saga #no the window isn't frosted or cold - the seal is broken

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modelbus · 2 years

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Hi!

Could you write a x reader for Wilbur, where the reader is dating wilbur but they live long distance? But on Christmas eve the reader shows up to his house to surprise him? Sorry if that dosnet make sense!

It’s most definitely still Christmas time! Woo! (I’m so late)

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Simple Surprises

You trudge through the snow, trying your best to move quickly but not fall on your ass. Why did Wilbur have to live next to the iciest sidewalk in the whole world? All you wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, not put your life on the line.

Really, your mistake was not taking the Uber all the way to his flat. But it was Christmas eve, meaning even these roads were packed. You thought it'd be easier if you walked, but apparently not.

The snow was pretty, though. Glistening white, perfectly pristine. It came just in time for a white Christmas.

Carefully triple-checking the address, you finally reach the building Wilbur lives in. Assuming the address isn't wrong, and he didn't move within the last few days. God, why were you so nervous?

Although your relationship with Wilbur was long-distance, you often planned to meet up. When he had asked if you wanted to come over for Christmas with him, you had made some bullshit excuse about not being able to. All so you could turn the tables on him and surprise him.

Now that you're actually here though, you can't help but think this was a bad idea. What if he wasn't even at home? What if he had made different plans for Christmas?

No, you had literally talked to him earlier and he told you he wasn't doing anything. In fact, he planned to watch Captain America at Tommy's request! You told him you were going out with friends to cover your tracks, and he didn't doubt a word.

Marching up to his door, so familiar for something you've only really seen a few times, you hesitate. Not out of anxiety or irrational fear, but excitement. Spending Christmas with Wilbur would be a blast, and you can't wait to see his reaction to you being here.

With that in mind, you knock thrice and wait.

"Hang on!" You hear his voice from somewhere inside, and you smile to yourself.

Something crashes inside, startling you, but the door is flung open to reveal a wide-eyed Wilbur. If you had to wager a guess, he just ran across his flat.

"Sorry, I-" He cuts himself off, gaping at you.

"Nothing to be sorry about. Actually, I think I might've gotten the wrong door?"

"Like hell you did."

He tugs you into him, crashing his lips against yours. You laugh into the kiss, looping your arms around his neck. It's so nice to be here with him, feeling a solid body instead of having to stare at a video call.

"You told me you were busy." Wilbur accuses you once he stops kissing you. He doesn't let you go further than an arm's length though.

"I might've lied, but it was for the greater good. I wanted to surprise you!"

"I'm fucking surprised. I love you. How long are you here for?"

"Just a week." It was the longest you could get away from home, and you're already wishing it was more.

"A week's better than nothing." He assures you, "And I know exactly what to do first!"

"Oh yeah?"

You let him tug you to his couch, reveling in how large his smile is. You've missed this. Hell, you've missed him.

His Tv is paused on a movie, and he doesn't hesitate to pull you down onto the couch with him. Within seconds he's gone full octopus mode, pressing your bodies together to maximize physical contact.

"Cuddling?" You ask, thankful you slipped off your shoes at the door.

You're already melting, muscles relaxing. He's warm, a stark contrast to the winds and snow outside.

"You're here for Christmas, right?" He asks quietly, not yet resuming the movie.

"Of course."

"Good. I almost bought a train ticket to see you, plans be damned."

"Wil!"

"But I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

He keeps staring at you with the same dopey expression on his face, and you stare back for a few seconds before laughing.

"Are you going to resume the movie?" You ask.

"What?"

"The movie."