#care for banana plants.

[evergladesfarm]

How to Care for a Banana Plant?

Banana plants are popular for a reason. They give you tasty fruit and make any corner look lush and green. Caring for banana trees requires special attention and knowledge of what the plant needs. 

Knowing how to take care of banana plants is very important. They need the right soil, the right amount of water, and plenty of sun. But it's not too hard. A little effort goes a long way with these plants. And when you get it right, you don't just get a pretty plant. You get your very own bananas, right from your backyard!

Choosing the Right Location

Finding the perfect spot is crucial when you want to care for banana plants. These plants need a lot of sun, thriving in warm and bright environments. Whether you plant the tree indoors or outdoors, the key is mimicking their native tropical habitat.

If you have the plant outdoors, select a sunny area protected from strong winds.

If you have them indoors, place them near a large window with bright, indirect light.

Avoid areas with cold drafts or fluctuating temperatures.

Remember, the right location can mean the difference between a thriving plant and a struggling one.

Planting and Soil Requirements

The right soil sets the stage for successful banana plant care. These plants love rich, well-draining soil that holds moisture without getting soggy.

Mix organic matter, like compost or manure, into your planting soil.

A blend of garden soil, peat, and perlite makes for good drainage.

When planting, ensure the hole is twice as wide as the root ball, allowing space for growth.

For potted plants, choose a container with ample drainage holes.

Good soil and the right container help avoid waterlogged roots, a big no-no for these plants.

Watering and Humidity

Getting the watering right is a fine balance in how to take care of banana trees. These plants prefer consistently moist soil, but not overly wet.

Water deeply and regularly, reducing frequency in cooler temperatures.

Signs of over-watering include yellow or drooping leaves.

Under-watered plants will have dry, browning leaf edges.

Bananas also need good humidity, especially the indoor banana leaf plant.

Aim for 50-60% humidity around the plant.

Mist regularly or use a humidifier to maintain moisture in the air.

Fertilizing and Nutrient Management

Thriving banana plants need the right nourishment. Whether you want to focus on banana plant care outdoors or indoors, both require rich nutrients.

Use a balanced, slow-release fertilizer rich in potassium, nitrogen, and phosphorus.

During the growing season, fertilize once a month; reduce the frequency in winter.

Apply fertilizer around the base, avoiding direct contact with the stem. Water the plant thoroughly after applying fertilizer to help distribute the nutrients. Proper fertilization encourages lush growth and healthy tropical banana plant development. 

Pruning and Maintenance

Pruning isn't just about aesthetics; it's vital for the health of your banana plants.

Prune dead or damaged leaves regularly to encourage new growth.

After fruiting, cut back the main stem to help new shoots grow.

Dealing with pests and diseases:

Keep an eye out for common issues like spider mites and aphids.

Use eco-friendly pesticides or homemade solutions like soapy water.

Seasonal care:

In colder months, reduce watering and protect outdoor plants with mulch.

Banana plants for sale are often young, so provide extra protection from frost.

Regular maintenance ensures a vibrant, healthy plant year-round. Now, let's address some common problems.

Common Problems and Solutions

Even with the best care, banana plants can face challenges.

Yellowing leaves can indicate over-watering, poor drainage, or nutrient deficiency.

Stunted growth might be due to a lack of sunlight or improper fertilization.

Prevention and treatment:

Ensure your planting mix is well-draining to prevent root rot.

Regularly check for signs of pests or diseases and treat them promptly.

Neem oil can be an effective, natural solution for pest control.

Healthy plants are less prone to problems, so consistent care is key. 

Conclusion

Searching for a banana tree for sale? Look no further! Our collection boasts a variety of high-quality plants at great prices. Each tree is well-maintained, ensuring you receive a healthy, robust plant ready to thrive in your space. Choose from our selection and get a well-maintained plant for your home or garden. Affordable, quality plants are just a click away!

Disclaimer- The information provided in this content is just for educational purposes and is written by a professional writer. Consult us to learn more about caring for banana plants.

[talkingtomyhouseplants]

Ensete Ventricosum - Red banana Leaf

The growth since I repotted her this year has been amazing, can't wait to see her in one or two months!

[comfortplant]

String of bananas is a much loved beautiful plant that is a succulent that has little small vines that look like green bananas. This natural and quite simple plant is a perfect addition to any indoor garden, particularly for people who do not have time to often water the plants.

[wellness-and-progress]

I made lunch for my boyfriend tomorrow while he’s working overtime this weekend

[hsmagazine254]

Reviving Your Garden Saving Your Wilted Vegetables

Troubleshooting Wilted Garden Vegetables Watching your garden vegetables wither can be disheartening, but don’t give up just yet. There are several steps you can take to revive your struggling plants and bring life back to your garden. Let’s explore some effective strategies, including some unconventional tips like using banana peels. Identifying the Problem Before you can revive your wilted…

[theostrophywife]

curiosity killed the cat.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.

author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3

Curiosity killed the cat.

The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning. 

They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in. 

In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form. 

To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night. 

Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts. 

Potato, potato. 

The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up. 

With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons. 

The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place. 

The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention. 

The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.

The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow. 

This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical. 

As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier. 

No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite. 

Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming. 

In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight. 

“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully. 

The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced  enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either. 

After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?” 

Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.” 

Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus. 

“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.” 

“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate. 

Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled. 

“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.” 

The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. 

“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”

Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed. 

“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.” 

In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh. 

You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.” 

At that, Regulus purred in agreement.

From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting. 

During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?” 

Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes. 

You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.” 

From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason. 

The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety. 

Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was. 

Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another. 

Perhaps it was time to change that. 

The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster. 

It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you. 

“How was your weekend?” 

You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.

“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?” 

Regulus paused. “It was…fine.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order. 

The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?

When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat. 

“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.” 

The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned. 

“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate. 

“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled. 

Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” 

He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?” 

“Shut it, Nott.” 

“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.” 

Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.” 

“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” 

“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?” 

“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”

Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice. 

Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this. 

“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?” 

Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.” 

You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.” 

His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!” 

Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.

“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.” 

You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.” 

“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped. 

“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”

Regulus tried not to grin. 

Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.” 

“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.” 

“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.” 

Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.” 

Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all. 

Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes. 

It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her. 

In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved. 

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered. 

The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!” 

To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?” 

Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.” 

His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?” 

Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.

If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.

So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course. 

From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself. 

“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly. 

“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?” 

“About a thousand times.” 

“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?” 

You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers. 

“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.” 

The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.” 

Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus. 

“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.” 

He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.” 

Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects. 

“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter. 

“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down. 

You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?” 

“Of course, Mr. Black.” 

“Regulus is fine.” 

“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.” 

As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.” 

You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.” 

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” 

The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat. 

“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.” 

“Which one?” you asked curiously. 

Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks. 

“All of them.” 

Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?” 

Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”

“Every single book?” 

“Mhm.”

“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money. 

“And I devoured every single one.” 

As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.

The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads. 

Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.” 

Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?” 

“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”

“That’s Regulus to you, love.” 

“I thought it was Reg.” 

“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.” 

“Okay, Reggie.” 

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal. 

“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?” 

“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.” 

“My point exactly.” 

“What’s wrong with oatmeal?” 

“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.” 

“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.” 

“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?” 

“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.” 

Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy. 

Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people. 

Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.

In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.

“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.” 

Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.” 

“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?” 

“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.” 

“You’re hopeless, Regulus.” 

Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.” 

The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you. 

“However will you live?” 

“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.” 

“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.” 

He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.” 

“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively. 

Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest. 

“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”

“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.” 

You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.” 

Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement. 

As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch. 

“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle. 

Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.” 

Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.” 

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response. 

Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.” 

“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?” 

“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.” 

“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.” 

Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.” 

Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.” 

“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.” 

As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.” 

Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. 

At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold. 

“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly. 

“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.” 

You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons. 

“This is quite lovely,” you said softly. 

Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.” 

You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.” 

“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”

The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.” 

As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.” 

You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.” 

“No, thank you.” 

“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.” 

“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly. 

Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises. 

“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.” 

Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch. 

“Shall we?” 

A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you. 

As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow. 

You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close. 

“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”

Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.” 

You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?” 

The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.” 

You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?” 

“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.” 

The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel. 

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously. 

“No.” 

“Then why are you staring?” 

Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw. 

“Because you’re beautiful.” 

The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him. 

“Reggie…” 

The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…” 

Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons. 

You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. 

Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?” 

One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.” 

Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away. 

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked. 

“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly. 

You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back. 

“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.” 

“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.” 

“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped. 

“Why, you little twat—” 

“Guys,” Regulus scolded. 

Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.” 

You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.” 

“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.” 

The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement. 

“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.” 

“Riddle,” warned Regulus.

Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room. 

“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”

Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it. 

“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.” 

“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.” 

“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.” 

“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.” 

Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?” 

The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks. 

“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.” 

Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.” 

“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.” 

“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted. 

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.” 

Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.” 

The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins. 

“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch. 

In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret. 

“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.” 

Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle. 

You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you. 

The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus. 

Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds. 

“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed. 

“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?” 

“Uh…the kind with wings?” 

Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?” 

The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family. 

“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip. 

“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.” 

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.” 

He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.” 

You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.” 

“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.” 

There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus. 

“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers. 

You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?” 

“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.” 

A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words. 

Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”

Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words. 

The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take. 

You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus. 

Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?” 

“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.” 

You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.” 

“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice. 

Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern. 

“Yes, and I heard it too.” 

“Please, can you—can you just not tell Reggie?” 

Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.” 

“Thank you, Tom.” 

You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat. 

“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.” 

Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt. 

Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again. 

Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.” 

Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament. 

No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus. 

The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed. 

“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.” 

Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.” 

The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow. 

“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.” 

Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.” 

To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed. 

“Good night, Shadow.” 

Regulus knew it was reckless. 

But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.

It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better. 

Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood. 

At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier. 

Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 

It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.

The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose. 

This was not good. 

This was definitely not good. 

You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?” 

Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot. 

But none of that mattered now. 

“Don’t end our friendship.” 

You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”

“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.” 

You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.” 

Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?” 

Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.” 

He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.” 

You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?” 

Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —" 

His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you. 

Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?” 

“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?” 

Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.” 

“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.” 

“I think I like Pansy.” 

“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.” 

“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.” 

“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.” 

You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” 

“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.” 

“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.” 

Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek. 

Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers. 

Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded. 

“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.” 

“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.” 

Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.” 

“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.” 

“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.” 

“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?” 

You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.” 

At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat. 

Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?” 

You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?” 

Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.” 

You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?

“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.” 

With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.” 

Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.” 

When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?” 

Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.” 

“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back. 

“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.” 

“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.” 

Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr. 

[gardeningfy]

String of Bananas Complete Care and Growing Guide

Read Article: https://gardeningfy.com/string-of-bananas/

Gardeningfy is a blog about gardening and landscaping. Find information on garden design, garden maintenance, planting ideas, gardening tips and more in the link below.

Website: https://gardeningfy.com/

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?

𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.

Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.

⚝

You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.

Well, that was you today.

Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.

It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.

“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.

“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.

“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.

“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.

“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.

“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.

“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.

“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.

“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.

“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.

“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”

He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.

“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.

“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.

“I would love that, tesoro.”

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson

[hoshieeyewrinkles]

• Nct dream as bad boys falling in love with you. •

♡ Notes. Alt. When you are the good girl who fell in love with them.

♡ Cheesy as hell.

♡ stereotypical bad boy and good girl.

♡ Fluff. Fluff. Fluff.

♡ Reader is innocent and sometimes a dumbass

♡ Not requested [ requests are open tho. Pls go through my pinned post before requesting]

Mark

~ randomass bad boy

~ spots you during recess in the hallways.

~ could not stop thinking about you after that, your cute keychain hanging off your bag, the little giggles you let out with your looser friends as he calls them. All had him going crazy

~ waits in the same hallway everyday even though he doesn't have any classes there, only to glance at you.

~ grins like an idiot after you shyly smiled at him once.

~ "you are such a creep, mark." "shut up haechan"

~ he finally asked you out one day after some great encouragement from his friends ( haechan threatening him to ask you out or else he will) . Was nervous that you might get scared because of his eyebrow piercings and bad reputation.

~ was surprised that you accepted, looking at him with doe eyes and a cute grin. He fell harder before he could even process your reply.

~ his life improves because of you. Your pouts and little scoldings you give him for not wearing a helmet or coming late. It all made him change as he avoided everything bad to make you happy.

~ "I'm sorry angel, I didn't mean to come late. Don't be mad please" Screaming.

Renjun

~ certified tsundere

~ found you so annoying at first. Why did you have to finish all the work at time and be such a good girl?

~ and why the fuck did you have you have to walk around with your gaze down? Can't you look forward for fuck's sake?

~ everything you did kinda annoyed him at first and yet he couldn't understand why he made sure no one bullied you or laughed at you.

~ glares at anyone who looks at you for long time.

~ "she is so fucking annoying, walking around cutely with that stupid banana milk like tf" "renjun you are in love with her"

~ realises he has a crush on you. Panics. Gets more annoyed.

~ walks you home one day making you confused. Carries your books. Sits beside you in every class you guys share. Lends you his leather jacket when you are cold. Brings you banana milk everyday.

~ you're confused but you can't help but feel all giddy in your stomach when he acts like that. You give him a cupcake one day.

~ he stared at it the entire class. He is not gonna eat it. He'll preserve it forever.

~ you pecked his cheek one day to calm him down as he ruthlessly punched a boy after he made fun of you

~ pulls you into a kiss in front of everyone.

~ chuckles so sweetly when you blush. You take his bruised hands in yours worriedly all while he stares at you as if you are his entire world. (Which you are)

~ "No one's ever gonna hurt you, princess. I love you so fucking much."

Jeno

~ Bad boy next door

~ you are his neighbour. All he does is blast loud music with his friends creating ruckus in his backyard. His parents are always out of town.

~ you are the new girl who moved next door with your strict parents.

~ he watches you watering your plants everyday. Notices the little glances you threw at his way and how you stammer to reply when he waves hi at you with a lazy smirk on his face. "Whatcha looking at sweetheart?"

~ he finds so you so fucking adorable.

~ throws away his cigarettes whenever you catch him smoking, you don't mind but he doesn't want to scare you. So he tries to change his appearance, hides his tattoos and piercings.

~ frankly, he doesn't understand why tf he cares so much about what you think but he can't stop thinking about you. Especially after you gazed at him with the softest eyes when he came home bruised. Asking him to come inside your home so you can bandage him.

~ he knew you had very present and strict parents (something which he can't relate to) yet you still took the risk to call him in.

~ he straight up confesses to you one fine day when you were aiding his bruises (a little routine between you guys when your parents aren't home)

~ he climbs through your bedroom window even if your parents are present. He doesn't give two fucks. All he wants to do is see his angel. "I haven't seen you since yesterday princess, let me have a look please"

~ you accept his confession without hesitance and reassures him that you don't care about his appearance and he doesn't need to change himself.

~ he falls in love with you harder than ever, god forbid if jeno even sees a scratch on you. You're his little treasure, his everything. He will fight against the world for you, will jump in the fire for you.

~ "come on baby, don't scold your nono pls" a true Samoyed.

Haechan

~ resident's bad boy.

~ has the most gaze ever, looks like he is the scariest person alive but is actually a little tease.

~ don't think he doesn't throw punches tho, beats the shit out of people just for leaning on his bike.

~ spots you in the midnight carrying a tub of ice cream in your hand, walking out of the supermarket. Yeah he thought you were a dumbass to walk alone at midnight.

~ tries to ignore you but fails when he spots creepy looking guys following you. They start to corner you and haechan sighs before stepping in.

~ takes out his pocket knife and the guys starts sprinting away. Haechan turns back expecting you to look at him with fear but was surprised to find you staring at him with jaw open and flushed cheeks. "what the fuck are you? A damsel in distress?"

~ he kinda roasted you but you didn't care, shyly thanking him. He scoffs before asking you to hop on his motorcycle.

~ drops you home and asks your name. He chants your name in his mind after that.

~ you were pleasantly surprised to find him near the same supermarket the next day, turns out he has his little garage there. "What's up princess? wanted to see me again, yeah?"

~ after that he looks forward to your little meet ups. He lifts you up and puts you on his motorcycle seat while he fixes the engine. Mentally gushing at how cute you look with your little brain trying to understand what he is doing. "Yes this definitely looks like a donut princess"

~ lets you ramble about the books you read and even tries reading them so he can talk about more stuff with you.

~ confesses to you on a random thursday under scorching heat near his garage. Kisses you so passionately when you smile at him, not needing to hear any other words.

~ "Princess, you got some grease on your nose." Literally will do anything for you.

Jaemin

~ weirdass bad boy

~ sells weed and anyone can tell that he is a high mf all the time.

~ you were dared by your friends to buy weed. (They tricked you to buy it for them)

~ you nervously went near Jaemin who sells weed in the basement of some sus building.

~ he looked so scary at first glance but gave you the sweetest smile once he looked at you.

~ he knew you were too innocent and nice to buy this shit so he tried to talk you out. Finds you so adorable as you stammer to reply. Eventually you didn't buy because he convinced you. "Good girls don't do such things, sweetheart."

~ Jaemin later wondered why he didn't let you buy it when he could have gotten some good cash but something inside him just melted when he saw your big orbs.

~ after a few days you were pressurized again by your fakeass friends to go inside his basement while they waited outside. Jaemin was surprised to see you again but the disappointment on his face was real when you asked him for weed again.

~ he goes out of the basement and gives the deadliest glare at your friends who then proceeds to run away.

~ "what did I tell you last time princess?"

~ you became friends with him after that and he protects you all the time. Picks you up and drops you home. Makes sure no mf comes near you.

~ eventually he stopped doing all the shady shit, though he didn't change his shady appearance because duh he is a bad boy. He did it all for you cause you deserve a good person and even though he is not one, he will try his best to be one for you.

~ takes you to ice cream dates every weekend and one day you confess to him. He went quiet for a few moments before looking at you deep in the eyes and gave you the same sweet smile again.

~ is the most clingy and softest boyfriend ever. So protective and treats you as if you were made of glass.

~ "No doll, don't lift such heavy things. You will get hurt, go sit there and let me do it."

Chenle

~ didn't even know people considered him bad news. He thought everyone loved him.

~ he is a brat, does what he wants and gets what he wants. Frankly just enjoying his life in the most rebellious way as possible.

~ he does illegal car races and that's how he finds you there among all the rich brats, though you weren't one. You were just here to accompany your friends.

~ realises he never saw you here before. Comes over and tries to flirt with you but was surprised to see you acting all shy and nervous.

~ knows you weren't meant to be here "You shouldn't be here in places like this unless your family is influential enough. Let me drop you home cutie"

~ drops you home in his sports car and asks for your number.

~ at first he just wanted to flirt around with you but days went by and he couldn't stop thinking about your little nerd talks.

~ you were such a breath of fresh air in his life. He didn't even want to take you to his car races because it's full of shady people and you are his sweet angel who shouldn't be in the eyes of such people.

~ but after you gave him your puppy eyes, he just couldn't refuse "Alright princess, don't talk to anyone and just stay here with jisung."

~ comes to you after every race he wins and you confess to him.

~ "what do you mean? I thought you were already mine?" Asksksk he genuinely thought you guys were

~ kisses you passionately after every race he wins.

~ he never thought he would want to settle down in life but he can't stop thinking about you as his bride, you are his future and his final dream.

~ "Do you even realise how precious you are to me?"

Jisung

~ the most quietest and minds his own business type of guy.

~ you were the one who developed a crush on him first after seeing him in the hallways with his leather jacket on and a small smirk on his face while talking to his friends.

~ all he does is hang out with his little friend group and beats people who annoy him. he was very mysterious tho.

~ you pass by the same hallway everyday to see him. You were sure he didn't even know you existed but you were so wrong.

~ he noticed your shy glances and cute nature everyday. He just ignores you because he feels he is bad news for you.

~ yet he feels himself smiling at random times thinking about your pretty smile. "Fuck she is so cute"

~ realises he should stop and one day gives you the iciest glare making you think he finds you annoying.

~ so you stop passing by the same hallway and don't look at him anymore.

~ he feels shit because he didn't mean to scare you. Asks for advice from his hyungs. They hollered and cheered because he finally developed a crush on someone. "Our jisung finally grew up awwww" "hyung please shut the fuck up"

~ he doesn't have a crush tho. He is straightass in love with you.

~ one day comes to you with a bouquet of roses and confesses in the most nervous tone ever.

~ your both faces were in the same colour as the roses. So cute omg

~ after that day you were known to be jisung's girl and everyone knew better than to mess with you.

~ you guys are the most cheesy and disgustingly cute couple. Often the target of his hyungs teasings. "I love you angel." "I could have lived my entire life without hearing those nicknames." "Haechan hyung please."

~ you tutor him sitting on his lap everyday while he nuzzles his face in your neck. "Stop kissing me ji"

~ "I'm sorry love, you are just so fucking adorable"

[That's it I have fed your guys delusions enough for today]

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023

Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx

Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.

Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.

Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.

Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.

Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).

Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.

Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.

Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.

Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).

Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.

Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.

Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.

Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.

Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.

Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.

Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.

Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.

Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.

Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

Summary: . . . You and your kids wake Eddie up with a surprise for Father's Day. warnings: fluff and Eddie being down bad for Reader 🤭, implications of baby making.

word count: 2k

more dad!eddie here

“'Shhh', mama?” Your four year old asked as she trailed behind you in the hallway.

  “Yeah, we have to be quiet so you can wake daddy up with a surprise.” You were trying not to make too much noise with the flowers, wrapped in apparently the world’s loudest brown paper, hitching your nine-month old up higher on your hip.

  Thank goodness neither of your kids were in a fussy mood, especially considering you’d gotten them up early after the terrible night before. Wayne had a new tooth coming in, he was absolutely miserable and your poor baby made sure to let everyone know. He’d been wailing most of the night and Eddie took it upon himself to soothe him, rubbing some baby friendly orajel along his gums, massaging them with fingers dipped in cool water, and offering frozen teething rings and plenty of comfort in the form of nonstop cuddles.

  He hadn’t joined you in bed until the early hours of the morning, which worked out perfectly. Eddie had been dead asleep when you got up, squishing a pillow you’d planted in place of yourself to his chest.

  Next came getting the kids ready, which was also surprisingly easy. Penny was pliant with sleep, letting you dress her without whining (she kept trying to lean forward so she could rest on you and go back to sleep—it was the cutest thing) and your baby was still soothed by Eddie’s remedies, letting out content coos as you changed his diaper and also got him ready.

  After a quick trip to a music store downtown (and by quick you meant 45 minutes, Penny took delicate care in picking out another final gift for her daddy and told you not to rush her every time you’d ask her to hurry) and a stop at the flower shop, you arrived back home and it looked like Eddie still hadn’t stirred, which gave you time to make breakfast.

  You’d sat Waynie in his high chair, gave him some cut up pieces of banana to gnaw on—which he did so as aggressively as possible—and went about making pancakes, eggs and bacon (which Eddie liked to devour until he felt ill).

  Penny was of course your little helper, sitting on your lap while you assisted her with whisking the eggs in a bowl for Waynie’s scrambled eggs, and then perched on your hip to help you flip the pancakes. She’d insisted that Eddie’s pancakes all be heart shaped and you loved the idea, so after a couple of failed ones that would be on your plate, you eventually got it down and she wrapped her arms tightly around you in a hug for it.

  Once breakfast was plated and the table was set, you gathered Wayne and the flowers while Penny carried Eddie’s decoy gift towards your bedroom.

  Quietly, you opened the door and peaked in, smiling  at Eddie’s sleeping form.

  “Okay, let’s go wake him up. Shh.” You propped the door open for Penny to slip in before you and she grinned up at you, using her free hand to hold her finger to her lips, she’d be quiet.

  She set the rectangular box on the end of the bed and then climbed on top while you sat Wayne down on the bed.

  He was just starting to crawl, so he very shakily made his way towards Eddie—face planting quite a few times but it didn’t deter your baby.

  Penny looked back at you for confirmation and you nodded in encouragement. That was all the permission she needed.

  “Daddy! Daddy, wake up! It’s daddy’s day! Wakey, wakey!” 

  She poked and prodded at his side when he groaned and shifted onto his back, eyes squinting open. That wasn’t good enough for her, she moved to sit on him and Wayne finally reached him, using his dad’s shoulder to prop himself up enough to sit back on his bum while he let out a happy shriek, chunky little palms slapping eagerly at his dad’s face to do the trick.

  Eddie made a face, nose scrunching up but you could see the smile curling on his lips, dimples appearing.

  “Okay, okay! I’m awake! Stop the assault!” 

  Penny laughed as he sat up, which almost sent her sprawling on the bed but she caught herself on his leg. Eddie tutted, that wouldn’t do.

  Eddie reached out and pushed her off of him and she laughed hysterically as she bounced against the mattress which made the two of you chuckle. For some reason your daughter loved to rough house with him. 

  Penny didn’t stay down for long, quickly crawling back up to lay down along the side of his pillow and Eddie turned his head to look at her after he’d gathered Wayne and sat him on his chest.

  “Happy Fodder’s Day, daddy. You aw the best daddy in the whole wide everywhere.” She whispered to him, very seriously, and he leaned in to give her a smacking kiss on the nose.

  “Thank you, baby.” His voice was raspy but you could detect the emotion under it. Eddie was so gonna choke up.

  “You wanna give him his present?” You prompted her, and Eddie’s head darted in your direction, grin widening at the sight of you in his favorite dress.

  “Oh, yeah!” Penny scurried to the end of the bed and knee-crawled back to Eddie, hands outstretched to offer him the rectangular box.

  “What’s this?” He asked, tucking Wayne into his side so he could grab the box.

  “You gots to open it, daddy.” Penny demanded, eagerly leaning in to stare at the box while he did.

  “Sorry,” you both traded looks of amusement before he took off the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a new guitar strap; black and decorated with crossbone skulls. “This is for me?”

  “Yeah!” Penny nodded her head ecstatically. “Mommy lemme pickeded it out!”

  “Thank you so much, little pretty one.” Eddie moved his hand to the back of his daughter’s curly little head to bring it in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then he turned to the baby at his side. “And you, too!”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sweet smelling curls on his baby’s head. In return, Waynie started gnawing on his arm.

  You sat on the side of the bed and pulled him away from Eddie’s arm. Your son looked at you, affronted,  like you’d committed the ultimate crime until you held a pacifier to his lips. He eagerly gobbled it up and relaxed back against Eddie, once more content as he suckled.

  “Penny, do you wanna go get the other thing?”

  “Wha─?” She looked at you, confused for only a moment before her big brown eyes lit up. “YES, YES, YES!”

  Penny quickly climbed off the bed and ran to her room, where you’d hidden it.

  “What are you up to, trouble?” Eddie asked and you turned your head away from the doorway to find him looking at you, sleepy eyes clouded with love and affection as he reached a hand out to stroke along your exposed thigh.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

  “You’re trying to make me cry again, aren’t you?”

  “Not me, no way. No how.” 

  “I GOS IT, MOMMY!” Penny ran back in, chin raised to peak over the box she carried. It wasn’t too heavy for her, just big.

  She brought it over to you and you handed it to Eddie before pulling her up onto your lap as you watched him unbox it.

  “I wonder what it could b—.” Eddie’s mouth parted just slightly as he pulled a small amp from the box. It wasn’t just any amp. It was an amp you’d sneakily picked up from the music store last week—he had a ton of amps sprawled around the apartment but Eddie’s favorite portable one had recently gone out on him. 

  The amp itself would have been a fantastic gift alone, but you’d taken a few extra steps to personalize it for him. You’d painted the black amp with a solid red background and then let Penny and Wayne paint whatever they wanted on it. 

  Penny had gone all out, making sure to paint her family holding hands on it, along with plenty of depictions of her dad, one of which was him wearing a cape because he was her hero and since Wayne was too little to use a paintbrush, his little hand and foot prints were on it. 

  On one of the sides was your initials (last name replaced with an ‘M’ to represent the Munson name you’d taken on when you’d married him) + EM 4Ever, tucked into a heart with Cupid’s bow shot through it. 

  “SUPISE! D’ya like it, daddy? I drews on it, and it got Waynie’s feets and hans.” Penny looked so proud of herself, smile nearly taking up her entire face.

  Eddie sniffled and you hid your grin in Penny’s hair. You got him.

  He licked his lips and cleared his throat to try and keep himself together but you could see the shine in his eyes when he raised them.

  “I love it so much, baby girl.” He choked out, holding Wayne a little tighter to his side.

  “You wanna give daddy a hug?” You whispered into her ear and she crawled off your lap to throw herself at Eddie, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

  Eddie was careful to make sure Penny didn’t squish Wayne as he held her to his chest, eyes squeezing shut and his freehand cradling the back of her head.

  “I luh you, daddy.” Penny mumbled, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

  “I love you, pretty Penny.” He pressed a multitude of kisses to her curls as he basked in the moment before his eyes shot open and over to you. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here and give me some love.”

  You affectionately rolled your eyes before you complied, lifting Wayne out of his arms and into yours to take his place tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie demanded kisses the moment you were near, and because you loved him, you ignored his god awful morning breath and let him have his way.

  His lips remained pressed to your temple, an arm slipped around your waist so he could lift the skirt of your dress, fingers tracing the words I love you along your thigh as Penny explained all her paintings in great, excessive detail.

  Later, when you were all at the table eating the breakfast you and Penny had made, Eddie could barely get a bite in without staring at you. Wayne was in your arms, face pressed against your breast as he nursed (always did it before he ate solids), while Penny babbled to you about how fun cooking with you had been and how yummy it was as you helped her scoop up her food on her little fork.

  Eddie knew Father’s Day was a day meant to celebrate him and essentially all the other fathers of the world, but he’d much rather appreciate you. You’d given him Penny and Wayne; his sweet (usually) little girl and his baby boy. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to be a part of this day, really.

  Eventually, you felt the weight of his stare and looked up at him, gaze inquisitive.

  “What?” 

  He just huffed out a gentle laugh, brown eyes warm and making a certain feeling stir in your belly, “Nothing. Thank you. For them.”

  Eddie nods towards Wayne and Penny.

  “Well, you definitely played a part in getting them here.” You mused, reaching a hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls. 

  Sure, you made them but it wouldn’t have been possible had Eddie not finished inside of you on a regular basis. 

  When you looked back at him, Eddie was smirking, his eyes were heavily lidded and darkening–his bedroom eyes. The warmth in them was simmering into something much more intense as he leered at you with absolutely no shame. Lustful.

  You could feel yourself heating up, bashful nature hitting you full force as he nearly ate you alive with his gaze alone. You knew what was coming next, what he was about to say.

  “Wanna make another one during nap time?”

[amymbona]

Messy boyfriend Patrick Zweig x sick f!reader

Warnings: none, the tiniest bit of cursing

Word count: 1,5 K

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Patrick is the messiest boyfriend ever, I'm convinced. He's never taken the family life too seriously before, it was always just a little fuckie-fuck, perhaps a night spent at the girl's place if she whines loud enough upon him getting up from the bed, but you changed it all.

With you, Patrick has learnt what a relationship truly is about. Despite him swearing to be the alpha, you are the giver. And the only thing you actually take is care about him.

It's little details. Details that never crossed Patrick's mind before. You make sure to bring him a little snack to practice, some protein sticks (you've noticed he likes the ones with little pieces of banana the most), dry his damp forehead with a towel and let him know when the laces on his shoes are undone. It's natural, almost automatic, for you to cook for him, to wash whatever clothing article he leaves at your place, to take motherly care od Patrick. With you, he has discovered a whole new world of tenderness and soft love.

He's so smitten with you, so eager for the attention and care that you are willing to give him. He's looking forward to every meeting of yours, and not only for the inexpressibly satisfying moments you two share naked in bed, but mainly for the little kisses you'd plant on his forehead and all the kind words from your mouth. But when you don't show up to his place one day, he's immediately concerned.

Patty poo: where r u sexy?👅

Y/N ❤️: sick :(

Patty poo: omw

Y/N ❤️: can u buy pads?

"I didn't know what size." Patrick basically breaks the door to your place from its hinges, pattering to your bedroom where he's met with the sight of you in bed.

"Hey." you smile tiredly, rubbing your eyes. It appears you're not even close to crawling out of the comforting warmth of your blanket, voice slightly sore as if you've just woken up.

Two plastic bags in his hands, Patrick plops down on the bed next to you. He leans in, kissing your forehead tenderly, eyes roaming over your face for all the possible signs of sickness. There are purple circles pronounced under your eyes and your expression is significantly less enthusiastic than usual.

He begins unpacking the contents of his quick shopping spree, dropping three packs of different size pads onto your blanket. "Why's there so many sizes, Y/N? And what the hell are wings for? You need fucking doctorate to understand that."

It makes you laugh, laugh at how incredibly adorable your boyfriend is. His confusion is so adorable to you. "That depends on how much you bleed, honey." you let him know and pick up one of the packs. Luckily, he chose your favoured size.

"Women are weird." Patrick mumbles under his breath, showing you some sweets he bought for you. Your favourites again. "I got you some gummy bears, oh, and the chocolate chip cookies you mentioned the other day. I got ones with white chocolate too."

"Baby -" you attempt to silence Patrick but he's too focused on rambling, tongue flicking over his pink lips as he keeps talking. So you try again. "Pat. Can you make me some tea?"

Oh, the sight of you. His perfect girlfriend, always the mom among the two, bound to your bed because of your period and some cold you've caught god knows where and from god knows who. Your eyes are heavy and the smile on your face is almost nonexistent from how tired all your muscles are but, god, are you still a piece of art. In Patrick's eyes, you are utterly flawless, whatever condition you are in.

"Sure, baby."

Patrick is on his feet within a second, jumping around your apartment like a lamb. Closing your eyes, you let your head drop back against the pillow, throwing an arm over your warm forehead. Your tranquil state is disturbed as Patrick yells from the kitchen where the fuck do you keep your cups, as if he hasn't been in your apartment before. "Above the sink!"

And he's in your room again, carrying five packagings of different tea flavours in his hands. "Which one?" he asks in a small voice, an obviously worried expression on his face. You peek one eye open, chuckling at the little disaster your boyfriend is. One box rolls down the makeshift column and falls between Patrick's feet, earning a soft goddamn from his mouth.

"None of these." you respond softly, shifting in your bed with a small groan as pain shoots up from your lower tummy. Reaching to the bedside table, you fish for a issue. "In the cabinet by the fridge. Little green box. 'S called bronchial tea or something."

"Okay okay, don't speak medical to me." Patrick rolls his eyes and disappears in the kitchen once again.

For few more minutes, you're allowed some rest in the silence (aside from Patrick's heavy footsteps and the sound of the kettle running), and you almost manage to fall asleep. That tired you are. Unfortunately, the bed dips before you could wander into the world of dreams and a tender touch on your forehead.

"Fuck, you're burning up Y/N." Patrick stammers, setting the full cup of steaming tea on your bedside table. Some of it pours onto his fingers but he's not concerned about that. His main focus on you, your well being. "What do I do?"

He's right, your skin's definitely a bit more warmer than usual. A bit too much, actually. And Patrick doesn't like that. He doesn't like that he's so unsure and incompetent that he can't even take care of his own sick girlfriend. What if it's more than just a cold? What if you are actually slowly dying but he's too daft to notice that? He doesn't want you to die because of him.

"Just... Gimme the thermometer." Patrick obliges, helping you stick the thingy into your armpit where it remains for a few minutes, the quicksilver scale running up as it takes your temperature. Slightly above 38 degrees Celsius. "Not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Patrick basically scolds you, once again pressing a palm to your forehead, his palm too big that it covers your eyes too.

You smile tiredly, slowly grabbing Patrick hand and placing it on your cheek instead, nuzzling into the softness of it. Oh, you could fall asleep in his gentle hold, you could fall asleep even in the middle of an apocalypse if Patrick was there, holding you in his arms. "I'll just sweat it out, Pat. 'M gonna be okay."

"Sweat it out? You think that's gonna work?"

"Yes, baby, it'll work."

So he springs up once more, almost running to your wardrobe and pulling out various clothing articles. It's like an avalanche when Patrick pulls a woollen knit sweater over your head and two pairs of warm socks on your feet. In the thoughtful mother manner, he smooths your blanket over your aching body, tucking you in and ensuring there isn't a single a single gap that would allow anything even remotely cold to caress your skin.

"Okay, okay, all nice and snug." Patrick stands straight, dusting off his hands. There is a proud little smile on his freckled face. "And I... I can clean up the place a bit, hm?"

Solicitude is practically flowing through his veins as he wants to lift all of the possible worries off of your mind. It's the least he can do to make you feel better, to repay everything that you have ever done for him. You are the sun of his cloudy days, the flower in his field of rotten plants. There isn't a single thing this man wouldn't do for you.

"How about you stay here with me?" you offer, a soft, sheepish smile on your face.

He's by your side in the blink of an eye, an arm around your shoulder, tucking your body against his side and smoothing down the blanket over your body once again. He's like a heater too, only that it's not caused by fever as well. It's the natural warmth he emanates, the walking image of family comfort. "All good?"

"Even better." the delight in your weary voice is evident and the smile on your face full of appreciation. "Can you hand me the tea, please?"

"Sure, sure." Patrick helps you take a sip before setting the cup back on the bedside table. Again, his arms are tight around you, urging your head gently against his chest. "Anything else you need, baby? Another pair of socks? Gummy bears? Or I could-"

"Just stay here, be comfy and hold me." you silence him with a gentle collapse of your body onto his, face snuggling into the crook of his neck where his skin is the warmest.

On an instant, Patrick's muscles relax and he envelops you with gentle care, arms tightly wrapped around your slim figure. His fingers run through your hair gently, tucking back the strands that fell from your ponytail as a result of your constant squirming and altering of positions. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good."

"Good."

It's safe to say, that during this afternoon, you sweat out more than you thought you ever could, heat passing through your body as you're locked in your boyfriend's iron hold. He kisses your forehead every three seconds and aids you to sip on your tea, all while ensuring you remain nice and snug. Finally, Patrick gets to repay you all your gentle care and every tiny act of service directed at his person.

[saintlevrant]

I think Togame would enjoy growing plants and veggies with Umemiya, and they would definitely hold educational classes on the weekends to demonstrate how to tell when you're over/under-watering your plants and how to properly take care of them. They also make big signs that read: "TOMATOES ARE FRUITS TOO" or "BANANA BERRIES ARE FULL OF POTASSIUM"

[morning-star-joy]

here, everyone knows you're the way to my heart

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Neighbors, Joel x F!Reader, Ellie x Platonic Reader

Summary: At Joel's request, you teach Ellie how to press flowers, and become even more engrained in the life of your neighbors. Joel continues to struggle with your kindness, and makes a choice that'll have consequences between you.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Grumpy x Sunshine, Mutual Pining, Implied Age Gap. Angst. Joel's an emotionally unavailable asshole. Petname (dollface). Mentions of food and eating. Cigarette use. Language. Please check series warnings on masterlist.

A/N: This took far too long, like 5 months after I started this series, but it's here now! Angst is kicking in towards the end of this one and through the next few parts so...yeah. Buckle in loves. Ty for being so patient and supportive for this fic!

Wordcount: 6.3k

Part I || Part IV || Part V || Series Masterlist

Masterlist || Kofi || Updates Blog

Looking back at it all now, the way you always acted around Joel finally made sense.

It had started out of neighborly kindness. You treated the older man, and the girl who he looked after, the same way you would’ve treated anybody who moved in next door, with a warm smile and offers of goodwill made by your own hand.

Somewhere along the way though, your reasons for seeking Joel out had shifted, so subtly that you hadn’t even realized it until suddenly it was all you could think about.

And now he was all you could think about.

Out in your garden, tending to your flowers, you wondered which blooms you could give him next. The meanings hidden within each family of plants, each variation of color, how you could tell him exactly the way you felt without him knowing a single thing.

In your kitchen, baking a small batch of brownies for Ms. Garcia again, wondering if Joel would like some, if you should set aside a few for him to try. Wondering if he liked something decadent, if the dour man had a secret sweet tooth, or maybe he preferred a sour taste instead.

Wondering if he had even cared enough to try the banana bread you had brought to him when he first settled in. 

Or if he had put any of your flowers in a vase like you had told him to.

Hoping you’d see him when you walked out of your house in the morning to go about your daily tasks helping out around Jackson, or hear that soft music played by rough fingers on his porch at night.

So when there was a rapt knock on your door one afternoon, you rushed from the kitchen to answer it without a care for your apron splattered with remnants of baking ingredients, too full of irrational hope until you opened the door, and your eyes were led down.

But the sight before you still brought a smile to your face, watching as the girl who also lived next door to you brightened when she saw you. Her awkward slouch straightened, a tentative smile twitching on her face to answer your welcoming one.

“Hey,” Ellie offered in terms of cautious greeting with a little wave, stuffing her hands back into the front pockets of her jeans, rocking back and forth on her heels as you returned her wave cheerfully. “Uh, I’m here for the…flower lessons?”

“Oh! Of course, please come in,” you chirped, smile widening into a grin with excitement at the prospect of sharing your knowledge of botanicals with somebody willing to learn. 

There weren’t many people in Jackson who were as invested in gardening as you—some even turned their nose up at it, deeming it trivial in the kind of world you lived in, when others were working day in and out to keep the place not only running, but as safe as could be.

But what was the point of having all this safety, if there was no warmth of it? What was the point of surviving without living, without finding what beauty remained, lovingly tending to it so it could grow, and cherishing its worth?

So you had been thrilled to learn from Joel that Ellie wanted to know how to press flowers, but you hadn’t wanted to overwhelm the girl, deciding it was best to let her come to you. 

Though she had seemed bright and energetic for the most part, and had been kind the few times she’d called to you from the next porch over, at times there was a shadow cast over her young face, a look that almost reminded you of a cornered animal. A soul that had grown up without knowing any sort of beauty.

And so you hoped that by showing her patience and kindness, Ellie would find there were still beautiful things that remained in the world around you.

“I thought maybe you had smelled the brownies,” you teased as you led her through the house, glancing back to see her eyes light up at the mention of desserts.

“Like, as in chocolate brownies?” Ellie asked, suddenly on your heels as you entered the kitchen, and you laughed at the way her jaw dropped at the sight of ingredients set out on your counter, in the midst of making a batch when she had dropped by.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’ of the word as you circled the counter, gesturing to the batter you had been mixing with a fond smile at her growing grin of excitement. “I don’t always have the ingredients for it, but when I do, I always try and make a batch for Ms. Garcia down the street—they’re her favorite.”

Ellie wrinkled her nose at the mention of the older woman, bright mood dropping quickly at the name, even as she stepped closer to you to peer down into the bowl when you picked the whisk back up. “I don’t like her.”

Arching an eyebrow down at her, you countered the blunt statement with, “Do you know her?”

The young girl paused, eyes flashing up to meets yours, looking a little taken aback by the question before you saw her stubbornness double down before your eyes, squinting up at you as she shot back, “Well, she doesn’t know me, but she sure likes to talk shit about me. Joel too.”

You frowned, sighing softly before glancing back down at your batter to mix it a few more times. “Yeah, she can be a bit of a busybody. She’s lived in Jackson longer than most, and she’s watched so many people come and go that I think she finds herself a bit of an expert on the matter of who lives here.”

“She should mind her own fucking business,” Ellie mumbled, and you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise when a snort of shocked laughter left you, four eyes wide before the girl’s smile grew mischievous at your hint of amusement that you quickly tried to hide.

“I’m not a fan of gossip, and she does a bit too much of it,” you admitted with a sigh, turning to grab a pan to pour the batter into so you could get it in the oven and move on to what she had come here for. “But she’s lost a lot, and I try to offer some kindness to her.”

“Like you do with me and Joel.”

Your head whips back around to Ellie, eyes wide at the no punches drawn comparison.

That’s also when you see her hand as it crept towards the uncooked mix of ingredients for a sneak taste, and you gently smacked it away, lips twitching up into a smile as she huffed indignantly that you had caught her.

“Everybody deserves some kindness,” you replied softly as you poured and spread the batter into the pan, sliding it into the sweltering heat of the oven and setting your little timer. You turned back with a smile that showed your genuine motivation in spreading goodwill, one that made the tension in Ellie’s shoulders relax. “How could that not include my new neighbors?”

“Yeah, okay, Sunshine,” Ellie teased with a roll of her eyes, and you laughed again, not only amused by her wry sense of humor, but happy to see how she perked up at your positive reception to her jokes. “I came here for the flower shit, remember? But I’m definitely staying for those brownies.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you gestured for her to follow you out the back door to your garden. When Ellie descended from the porch and stopped short, turning around in place to take in your carefully tended garden, you felt a swell of pride in your chest at the wonder in her wide-eyed gaze.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed out, her tone impressed as she glanced over your carefully coordinated flowers spreading throughout the yard. “You did all of this?”

“Sure did,” you chirped, a bright grin on your face that she slowly matched with one of her own as you led her to the flowers you’d be working on today. 

“I’ve had to do a lot of digging around for them—both through trades and, well,” you gestured with the trowel you picked up to accentuate your point, “literally.”

Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes at your joke, even as the sharp brown of them lit up more than you had seen yet at your bad pun. The cheer faded into something more somber, almost melancholic as she knelt down next to you in front of the patch of white and yellow daisies.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she mumbles as you pick up a pair of shears to give to her, and you watch as she takes the tool and holds it as if ready to wield it. 

The teen doesn’t even seem to notice the way she holds it out, sharp edges pointed away from herself like preparing to stab an Infected that didn’t exist within the walls of Jackson, and you wonder just what Ellie has gone through in her short life, how many improvised weapons she’s learned to make deadly, how hard she’s had to fight just to make it this far.

You’re reminded once again of the spooked animal backed into a corner at the sight of her awkwardly gripping the shears, and you show her your open palms before slowly reaching out, making your intentions clear before gently readjusting her grip on the shears.

“You’re nurturing something,” you say gently, picking up another pair of shears and demonstrating how you trim the dead leaves off your plants before finding a bright yellow daisy to carefully pick. “Not killing it.”

Ellie frowns, watching you retrieve the fresh bloom and present it to her with a smile. She takes it gingerly, staring down at the petals as she swirls it between her fingers and says bluntly, “But it’s gonna die anyway.”

You falter, a frown pulling onto your lips as you hear the unmistakable truth, the knowledge that ran deeper than just flowers in her grave words.

“It will,” you assent, voice quiet as you pick another one, handing it to her to join the first. “But they’re not alone. We’ll appreciate them while we have them, and when they’re gone, we’ll keep a reminder of them, like you wanted to learn.”

Ellie glanced up, solemn frown turning into one of confusion with the pinch of her brows. “Huh?”

Now it was your turn to frown, your facial expression mirroring hers as you clarify, “We’ll press the flowers. That’s what Joel said you wanted to learn.”

Blinking rapidly, Ellie shifted around to face you completely, and you did the same as you stared at each other in dual confusion and misunderstanding. “Joel said what now?”

“He said that you wanted to press flowers,” you said slowly, head tilting to the side as Ellie’s mouth opened before she stopped, eyes lighting up in sudden understanding that you were still lacking.

“Ooooh,” she drew out the sound of realization as you continued to look at her blankly, a slow smirk stretching across her face before she looked back down at the daisies, then up at you again. “Yeah, right! Pressing flowers. Yup, that’s what I told him. Totally wanted to learn that.”

There was a new excitement in Ellie’s eyes now as she nodded enthusiastically, matching the mischievous smirk on her face, and you tentatively gave your own nod before turning back to the flowers, continuing to pick a few more daisies along with her as the girl kept shooting you looks and asking you questions about the flowers decorating your garden.

“What’s that one mean?” she asks, pointing her shears towards a bunch of blooming lilies with bright pink leaves stretching outward.

“Pink lilies symbolize love and femininity,” you explain, snipping away a few dead leaves around a few more flowers before pushing yourself to your feet. “A lot of the time, they’re gifted between women because of that. It’s a show of admiration.”

Ellie nodded slowly, perking up at the explanation as she rose to her own feet beside you. She cast another glance around the garden, turning around slowly on her feet much like she did when first coming out, but you saw a honed look in her gaze, different from the wide scale glance of appreciation for the flowers from before.

And you understood the subtle calculation in the action when she not so subtly asked, “What about that one?”

Your eyes followed the direction she was pointing in to find your roses swaying gently in the spring breeze, and your back stiffened instantly.

“Uh—” Clearing your throat, you shifted awkwardly on your feet, trying to brush off the inkling that she knew what you had given Joel, ignoring the shrewd way she focused in on your face while you tried to turn it away from her observation. “Different colors have different meanings—”

“The orange one!”

You froze, holding your shears tightly in one hand and your own bundle of daisies in the other, trying to hide your internal panic and knowing you failed when you heard a snicker from beside you, letting you know that she must have seen the rose you’d given Joel at some point.

Did that mean he kept it?

You swallowed down the sudden surge of excitement at the thought, trying to focus past your feelings towards the man as you glanced back at the smirking teen beside you.

Clever kid.

“They’re energetic flowers,” you admitted a partial truth slowly, moving towards your back porch to drop off your tools and conveniently face away from Ellie, when she bounced in front of you to walk backwards, eyes fixed on your face with a purely trouble-making grin.

“Energetic how?” she prodded, arching her scarred eyebrow, and you sighed.

“They typically are meant to convey…fascination,” you hedged with the explanation as you set your shears down on your workbench, beckoning for her to do the same with hers before opening the back door and letting her go inside first.

“And not so typically?”

Holding back a groan, you strode past Ellie quickly, busying yourself with finding a small, unused book in your living room to start her collection of dried flowers in. You mumble the answer as you try to bury your face in the book, hoping she wouldn’t continue to interrogate you for her own amusement.

But as any true teenager would, she popped up behind you with a bright, “What’s that?” and you snapped the book shut with a groan after flipping through the pages.

“Attraction,” you admitted on a loud sigh, turning to see her grinning up at you. You resisted a smile yourself, her youthful glee at sticking her nose where it didn’t belong nearly infectious, even through your embarrassment at being caught. You passed the book to her, beckoning her to join you on the couch so you could show her how to press the flowers on your coffee table. “Happy?”

“Very,” Ellie grinned, and you could almost see her mentally filing away the information for the most inopportune time, all the while your own mind churned over the meaning of the flower you had left unsaid.

The very meaning that you had given Joel the flower for, the feelings that he stirred up inside you again and again with each fleeting look, stronger with each passing moment in his presence, even without him intentionally fanning the flames.

You wondered how much longer it would take until it finally burned you.

Joel had tremendously, irrevocably fucked up this time.

He should have never let you get that close. 

He should have said no when you asked him if he wanted that smoke, even if it meant seeing dejection on your face before you turned from him and hurried back inside the safety of your home. As far from him as allowed with fate—or, more likely, his goddamn brother—putting him next door to you. 

You should be far away from the likes of him.

The dejection would’ve been better than the hope that flooded your face whenever you saw him now. It would’ve been easier if you avoided him instead of seeking him out, less excruciating than the ache steadily settling into his very bones when your eyes lit up every time they met his own if you happened to see him, or find him, around town.

Spring was warming into summer, and you shone in the warmth of the sunlight, like those flowers you loved so much that he’d catch you taking care of around town. Half the times he ran into you, you were leaning over some flower bed or up on your tiptoes to reach a hanging basket, tending to the bright blooms that faded in comparison to your brilliance.

Joel would try and get away as fast as possible, if you didn’t catch him staring more often than not. You’d approach him, offer a new flower to him with a dazzling smile that burned itself into his eyelids and taunted him every time he blinked.

The new flower would go into that same shitty vase, and the old one would join the ever growing pile of dying flowers on the edge of the counter, balanced precariously close to the trash bin next to it.

He kept telling himself he’d shove them all into the trash someday.

But every time a dried petal would flutter into the bin, he’d lean over with a grunt at that persistent ache in the back of his left knee and pull the splintering petal back out, setting it back onto the counter with the other blossoms that continued to fall apart.

One of these days, he’d get rid of them.

Every time he entered the kitchen, he’d tell himself it was that day.

And every time his hand hovered over them, gazing over the once full of life blossoms that had dampened with the passage of time, he’d decide tomorrow would be better. 

The pile of flowers grew, until one day Ellie stopped in her tracks heading through the kitchen, staring pointedly at the dried up petals hanging on for the last dregs of dear life off brittle stems, and then back at Joel.

And he pointedly ignored her, focusing on peeling the washed apple in his hand, knife carefully shedding the skin as he asked her before she could speak, “Where you goin’?”

“To learn more about flowers with your girlfriend,” she shot back, the snicker evident in her voice, and Joel’s thumb froze, the shiny red peel of the apple hanging in a swirl off the fruit in his hands.

“My—” he shook his head sharply, brows knitted together as he huffed out a quiet, exasperated breath. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I hardly know her.”

“Sure.”

Joel exhaled sharply, the peel finally falling into the sink when he finished, and he focused on cutting off a slice instead of the aggravating tone in Ellie’s voice that said she knew something he didn’t.

Something he in fact knew very well, as infuriating as it was to deal with.

“She just lives next door, Ellie,” he doubled down, only looking up to pass her a slice of apple, then another slice when she popped the first one into her mouth, even as he shook his head in disapproval when she smiled wide with the apple in front of her teeth when she saw his exasperation with her antics. “Thought you could give each other some company.”

“Right,” she mumbled through a mouthful of the chewed fruit, and he shot her a disapproving look that she only snickered at. To her credit, she did at least swallow down the first piece and hold off on eating the second to say clearly, innocent words with a sharp double meaning, “Nice flowers, by the way. What a neighborly gift. I sure admire them.”

Joel frowned, glancing from Ellie towards the light red flowers that currently sat in the vase—carnations, he thinks. You’d given them to him a couple days ago, when he had been on the way home from a patrol that had taken him out before the sun rose, and brought him back when it was finally setting again. 

Your head had popped up at the sound of his footsteps going past your house, a grin spreading across your face before you called out to him. There was a quick snip of the stems at the flower bed you were kneeling at in your front yard before you rose and handed them to him over the fence, old wood with peeling white paint that separated you from each other.

He had thought of you on your knees that night, the dirt on your skin, what it would be like to rub it off with a gentle caress until each passing of his thumb over your knee would turn needy. Desperate.

God fucking dammit, longing.

But he thought of the unabashed smile you offered him, and the startling way it eased his worn nerves after the long day even more.

What an old, goddamn fool he was.

And what made matters so much worse was how fond Ellie was growing of you. He could deal with his own…his own, whenever you were around him for too long.

But each time Ellie returned from a visit to you happier than when she’d left, it was harder to keep those lines that separated his life from yours from blurring even more. Two sets of fences separated your property from his, but your very being still bled into him, seeping into his bones and settling with a tension under his skin when you began to brighten not just everybody’s fucking day, but Ellie’s as well.

You may have given the girl a gift of flowers to help her feel welcome in Jackson, but it was you who truly made the kid feel at ease. Joel had hardly heard so much praise for anybody else from her, and he couldn’t even be irritated when Ellie started coming home from her flower lessons with you first with gifts of brownies and cookies, and then with casseroles, full meals in dishes that they’d sit side by side on the couch with a couple of forks and eat from together.

“She doesn’t think we eat enough,” Ellie mumbled through a mouthful of casserole one night, and Joel scoffed, even as he shoveled another bite into his own mouth.

“She’s right,” he begrudgingly relented once the dish was empty on the coffee table, their forks discarded inside, and they both fell into a peaceful nap like you had delivered them a fucking Thanksgiving.

Everything you did to him, everything you made Joel feel was harder to ignore when he saw the positive influence you had on Ellie. She went from hardly ever getting out of the house to looking forward to those flower lessons he had lied to both her and you about the other person coming up with the idea, when it was his own.

His own stupid blunder, the question of how to press a flower falling from his lips that night he had made the crucial mistake of letting you get too close. The question he had asked to stop the other question from leaving him, the one that had been taunting him nearly from the first time you had fixed him with that dazzling smile and wide, kind eyes.

How do you do it?

How are you so kind? 

How do you not hate the world?

How do you not hate him for hardly giving you the time of day everybody else was more than willing to give to you? 

All because he was old and bitter and couldn’t fucking admit to himself how you were growing on him, how you were branching out around every cursed inch of him and entangling him in all your softness, pulling him in like ivy, pernicious in its beauty until he crumbled under the weight of your light.

He was too scorned to appreciate what you illuminated in your path, taking your sunshine for a burn on his skin whenever he let you take another step closer.

Somewhere inside him, he worried that he’d burn you too, if he kept letting you take another step.

And somewhere even deeper, he feared that he wanted to.

If he saw you crack, if he got you to lash out at him, maybe he’d finally understand you.

Maybe he could finally let himself—

Fuck, he was an awful human being, if he was even that. The things he’d done, the things he’d still do—he needed to stay away from you.

And if he wasn’t so awful, he would.

If he wasn’t a selfish man, he would’ve sat out on his back porch to play his guitar night after night. Or better yet, stay inside altogether.

He wouldn’t be sitting out on the front porch as soon as the sun began to set, his eyes flickering towards the lights that would flick on in the house next door, filtering through the floral curtains when he switched to strumming a new song.

His fingers wouldn’t be twitching in yearning to hold a cigarette between them, his throat not parched for the stream of smoke that mixed with the sweet taste of you on his lips from sharing that cigarette with you.

He wouldn’t let you consume his every thought. He wouldn’t let you get closer when you weren’t even there.

He wouldn’t let you.

But he did.

He always did.

And maybe he always would.

It happens like clockwork.

As soon as the sun starts to set and sends the deepest hues of purple and pink cascading across the sky, the gentle strumming of a guitar starts. The music bleeds through the walls of your home, and at this point, you’re always sitting by the window in your living room when it starts.

You’d learned to crack open the window the slightest bit before the sunset begins, so you can hear it better when he plays.

You’d also learned to flick the light on in the room when it starts to get too dark. Because when you did, those calloused fingers you could see so well when you closed your eyes would stop across the strings.

There’d be a pause, and then he’d start again. A different song each time, and you’d lean against the wall and listen, his music filtering in as your light filtered out.

You could never bring yourself to open the curtains, but you wondered if he ever noticed the crack in the window after the first few times.

Sometimes you’d read, letting Joel’s music blanket your senses as your mind got carried away into whatever story was on the pages in your hands.

Other times you’d swirl the stem of a flower between your fingertips, the next one that you planned to give him. Or run your fingers down the recipes in a worn cookbook, searching for the next treat or meal you’d give Ellie to take home after a visit.

One night, you’d fallen asleep like that, curled against the wall and waking up with a start and a crick in your neck when nightmares plagued your sleeping mind again.

And when his music still filtered through, it had seemed like such a good idea to get even closer to it. 

There was a comfort to it, real or imagined, and you needed it. You at least had half a mind for a jacket and shoes that time, shoving the dwindling supply of cigarettes you had into the pocket before you stepped out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you without a care to try and hide it that time.

The music stopped abruptly. By the time you dared a glance over, he was already looking at you.

A moment of silence that felt like forever stretched in that short distance between your porches before Joel jerked his head in a silent beckoning for you to approach, and you were off towards him in an instant.

That first night—or the second, really—you didn’t say a word to each other. You shared another cigarette until your nerves had settled, and left with a small wave and a thankful smile that was returned only with the growing familiarity in the weight of his gaze on you until you disappeared back inside your house.

The next few times it happened, you’d make small talk. A nervous habit, and he didn’t look at you as you spoke, but he’d give small hums every now and then. The smallest scraps of attention that only made you keep coming back.

When you were out of cigarettes, a fear caved in on you that he wouldn’t want you there, that he wouldn’t tolerate your presence if you didn’t have anything to offer.

So you padded about your kitchen that day, making three different batches of cookies as you couldn’t decide on which one to give him. Even with the way you found your life intertwined with his more and more, there was still so much you didn’t know about the man. So much you wanted to know.

Eventually, you settled on a hunch that he did have a secret sweet tooth. Either Ellie scarfed down every batch of sweets you sent her home with—which very well could be—or she shared them with Joel, and the latter thought had you crossing over to his porch that night, a plate of peanut butter cookies nervously clutched in hand.

Cookies he stared at when you ascended the steps to him, sending your heart into a nervous flutter when his jaw set as severely as the first time you’d shown up on his doorstep with an offer of goodwill in something you’d baked with your own hands.

“I was out of cigarettes,” you offered weakly for an excuse as you seemed to mess up around your neighbor once again, and Joel’s gaze finally flashed up to your face, flickering over whatever emotions were probably bleeding through onto your features before looking away.

His hand lifted from the neck of his guitar, rifling through a pocket of his worn jacket until he pulled out his own few rolled up cigarettes with a lighter, which you blinked at in surprise.

“Where did you—”

“Don’t matter,” he mumbled, gaze averted from yours, and you tried to swallow down a lump in your throat as he held them up.

Wordlessly, he passed them to you, and you handed him the cookies, which he set onto the small table beside his chair and stared at as if your gift was the greatest offense you could have ever made.

You tried to find relief in the nicotine, but he kept staring at those darn cookies, a furrow in his strong brow and a dark look in his eyes that you wished you could ease, or at least understand.

Eventually, you dared to try and speak.

“I—”

“I don’t get it.”

Your brow furrowed when Joel interrupted you, confused as to what he meant, and he seemed just as confused as he glanced over your face before hesitantly clarifying, “Your…kindness. The way you’re so positive all the time.”

He raised his hand from the neck of his guitar, gesturing towards the cookies with it, then in the air as he listed off with a voice tinged with irritation, “Baking. Flowers. Fucking…smiling like you do. I don’t get it.”

Your stomach flipped again when Joel met your eyes for a brief moment before he looked back down at his guitar, setting it aside with a sigh so he could rest his hands on his knees, and you murmured, “Well, I'm glad you're finally saying it.”

Joel’s head rose, his gaze finding you again as you gave a small smile, his entire body stiffening at the sight while you continued, “I knew you hated me since you came to Jackson, but it's a bit freeing to hear you finally admit it.”

His jaw clenched, eyes flickering all over your face, as if he was searching for…you didn’t know what he was searching for, and didn’t know whether or not he found it as his eyes narrowed and he looked away again.

“I don’t…” Joel trailed off with a heavy sigh, lifting a hand to rub down over his face, his next words muffled against his palm as he said slowly, “...I just don’t get it.”

His hand dropped, hanging between his knees as he said to you directly, “I’m not kind to you.”

Your head tilted, observing him quietly for a moment to try and see what he was getting at, figure out whether he wanted an answer or not. When he kept looking at you expectantly, you replied quietly, “No, you’re not.”

“So why are you so fucking nice to me?” 

With a shrug, you answered easily, “Because I’m nice to everybody.”

“Why?” 

You sighed, feeling a small flare of irritation at Joel’s persistence on the topic, but you let the feeling fade as you shrugged again.

But when you opened your mouth to reply, Joel swiftly rose, taking a step towards you as he lifted a finger to gesture towards your face while he murmured, “There. I saw it. You were annoyed.”

You raised an eyebrow, a quiet laugh slipping from you as you searched for the words you wanted to say, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to think as he slowly closed the distance between you.

“I get irritated, Mr. Miller,” you said patiently, watching Joel’s jaw clench again, though you weren’t sure what set off the reaction as you continued, “I’m only human. But what would being mad get me?”

“Satisfaction,” he replied easily, getting closer now, and your breathing quickened, pulse racing as you noticed again how big he was, how thick those arms were when he crossed them across his chest and how broad that was, and your mind was screaming at you danger again, just like that first night on his porch. 

Not because he was dangerous—though he might as well be from the rumors, just not towards you, not in that way—but because these feelings he stirred from you threatened to pull you under completely if he suddenly decided to stop keeping that short bit of distance that remained between you.

Lord, when had that distance gotten so short?

“There’s plenty of things to be satisfied about, Mr. Miller,” you said calmly, watching his jaw tick again, and your head tilted, observing him as closely as he watched you. “Cruelty isn’t one of them.”

“No?” he asked softly, the volume of his voice a direct juxtaposition to the stern heat in his gaze, and you shivered again, one of your hands pulling your jacket tighter around yourself in the same moment he reached for your other hand.

You froze as Joel tugged the cigarette from your grasp, holding it in front of your eyes as he mumbled, “Like this?” before dropping it to the porch, lifting his boot to stomp it out, and your breath hitched as he leaned in closer towards you. “Is that vice of yours really enough to satisfy you, dollface?”

Doll—

It was harder to breathe now, your head spinning, mouth still warm and tingling from the mere memory of that taste of him you had once gotten on another cigarette—mint and whiskey, mint and whiskey, and you wondered if his lips would taste of that now if pressed to yours, your tongue in his mouth to explore it and find out.

You quickly shook the heat of the spiraling thoughts from your mind as you breathed out, “There’s enough wrong with the world, Joel. I don’t plan to add to it.”

He exhaled sharply then, and your eyelashes fluttered as you felt his breath wash over your face, and there was that same scent of mint and something wholly intoxicating enveloping your senses and oh god, when had he gotten that close, but you were lost in the proximity as he murmurs, “Say it again.”

You could hear your blood rushing through your head now muffling your ears, heart pounding in your chest that was heaving from quick breaths as you whispered distractedly, “What?”

“Say it,” Joel repeated, leaning closer, and your breath hitched, lips parting when his nose brushed against yours, feeling your pulse between your legs now as he ordered in a low tone, “Again.”

Your mind was struggling to keep up, trying to find out what he meant, trying to find logic in the situation.

But there was no logic, only feeling, only this strange all encompassing heat, and your lips parted further to whisper what you knew he wanted to hear, “Joel—”

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, the curse slipping from his mouth a mere moment before it was on yours.

The only thing that you could manage to do was moan, the warmth of his lips pressed to your own increasing the heat until you felt like you were standing in the middle of a fire, feeling as much warmth as you did a scalding burn when he jerked away from you as quickly as he had kissed you.

Kissed you.

Joel had kissed you.

Something he was apparently horrified by as he leaned away from you, wide eyes darting across your face as he breathed out another, “Fuck,” before he was spinning on his heel and marching towards his door.

You knew it was coming before it happened, the same thing that always happened when Joel seemed to think you got too close. And so you were left standing on his front porch, burning with heat that still lingered on your skin, on your lips from where he had kissed them for just a few seconds before tearing himself away, the door slammed in your face once again.

[iid-smile]

at home bakery , fushiguro toji

with his daughter ! just fluff, nothing else, mentions of a wife but not necessarily said to be the reader, no name daughter too

author's note: i forgot i made a poll about this omg... idk if i wanna make a pt2 because i completely skipped over the actual baking and just left it open ended + idk if i wanna do x reader

"come up here, lassie." toji picks up his daughter with ease, placing her onto a stool that's high enough for her to reach the counter. "we're gonna be baking before mama gets home."

as he fiddles with the stool, making sure it's secure and stable, she taps at the marbled surface and glances around the kitchen. "what will we bake?" once he stands up straight, she peers up at him with big eyes, filled to the brim with curiosity and anticipation.

he stares at the miniature version of himself, his eyes squinting as he tries to jog his memory. "...what did you want again?" he whispers, half to himself, half directly to her. his memory has been completely used up trying to remember the names of all of her dolls, not that he had much space left to do so in the first place.

"omurice!" no, that wasn't the right answer, but she still clapped in excitement anyways.

"no— careful." he supports her back with a hand when she starts the wobble, not having the heart to scold too much in fear of her getting upset. "that was your breakfast. you told me you wanted dessert didn't you?"

"hmm..." placing a hand on her chin, she starts to think. then it moves down to her skirt, playing with the loose details and buttons. "don't remember..."

"of course..." he mutters under his breath, planting his hands on the edge of the surface. "forget it. i'll make a guess based on what we have here."

luckily, his wife had everything prepped on the counter before leaving for work. milk, flour, sugar, butter; the basics. eggs, yeast... bananas? now, toji may be a smart guy, but he's not the best when it comes to making estimations with such common ingredients like this... plus the addition of a bundle of bananas. "what the hell's this supposed to make?"

"oh!" as if there was a light bulb above her head, she holds her index finger up. "babana bread! i want babana bread!" she reaches out and takes hold of the bundle of bananas.

"banana bread." he corrects. easing the bundle out of her grip, he starts to break one off for her. "and didn't you already have some yesterday?"

it's a vivid memory. he had quite the mess to clean up when you had found the store-bought baked goods in the pantry, and with some (useless) help from her, managed to fix everything up and save him from the wrath of his wife. within minutes too... stressful.

in a fit, her arms swing back and forth, and she tries to put in the most innocent facade she can. "papaaa..."

"what? i'm still going to make it for you." he peels the fruit. "and you can eat this one while you watch."

"not that!" she pouts, stomping her tiny foot. the whine in her voice was an easy way to make him sway, and not being able to handle her sulky looks was an absolute curse. her hands reach up to tug at the material of his shirt. "you needa do the thing, papa!"

"what thing?"

"the thing!"

his eyebrows furrow, and he places the half peeled fruit on the counter. "i—"

"papa!"

"okay, okay." somehow, he seems taken aback, and he raises his arms to surrender. "no need to get loud with me, sweet." on command, he walks over to the doorway of the kitchen, three aprons waiting for him. he takes the first, covered in the word's 'this dad can't cook'. and the third, with the words 'baby princess' on it.

toji puts her apron on first, tying it loosely around the back to prevent safety hazards. as for his, it barely reaches around his waist, but not enough for a knot, so he leaves it hanging. "and?" she looks up at him expectedly.

"papa toji's bakery is..." he reaches up and flips over the makeshift sign hanging on the wall in front of the oven, showing 'closed' to 'open'. "open!"

his daughter's happiness was so potent, so innocent. her hands raise in the air, albeit not that far, and laughs in celebration. "yay!"

[hardstrawberrygardener]

HOUSE CALL

Tags: Zayne x reader, fluff, domestic, beginnings of a relationship?

Warnings: mentions of blood, reader gets a wittle hurt

Synopsis: So grocery shopping went a little crazy, nothing a little house call from your primary care physician can't fix.

Author's note: hiyah! First time writing and posting a complete fic, sorry for any mistakes, and uhhhhh Zayne is my pookie, what can I say?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The rain had gotten temperamental over the last hour, swinging from drizzle to torrential in a matter of minutes. On any other day this would have lulled you to sleep but the itch of the cuts on your ribs and the flecks of dried blood under your fingernails were a sensory nightmare.

You’d spent the last half hour just catching your breath on your now slightly blood-stained couch, recounting the incident that left you oh so pained and disgruntled.

A wanderer attack in the middle of your grocery shopping disrupted you mid deliberation on which snack to treat yourself to, and in the flurry of dodging claws and diverting the wanderer’s attention from terrified shoppers you slipped on the slick, just-mopped, floors, allowing the monster to graze you with its serrated pincers.

The pain was akin to the worst papercut you’d ever had, times a billion and as wide as a discount banana. It really hurt. And the oncoming migraine was really not ideal. The knocking in your head was becoming louder, too loud. Like, someone actually knocking on your door.

Begrudgingly you push yourself off the couch and walk, or really hobble to your front door; the source of the knocking. A confused peak through the peephole and your stomach drops, cause if there’s one thing worse than getting hurt, it’s your primary care physician catching you getting hurt.

“Hey...” You crack the door open, enough to show your face, which you hope didn’t look as bad as you felt. “I wasn’t expecting you here…”

He’s sporting the usual aloof look, scanning what he can see and deducing that you’re hiding the worst from him.

“Your wound will get infected if you don’t clean it.” Blunt and on the dot. As expected of the infallible Dr. Zayne.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and pushes the door the rest of the way open. Too exhausted to deny it, you simply step aside and follow him to your kitchen like a little duckling.

He’s already pulled out a first-aid kit, the one he gifted you himself after the last late night house call. You walked in while he was washing his hands and he’s not looking at you when he tells you to sit.

You plant yourself on the closest chair and he brings a bowl filled with water and a rag soaking in it.

“Lift your shirt.”

“Is this covered under my insurance plan?”

“Unfortunately, this is out of your service, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” He gets on his knees so he's eye level with your wound.

“Gasp! Can I afford this? Doctor, please I hav-” Your monologue was interrupted by a candy he had unwrapped and popped into your mouth. Mhmm strawberry flavored.

“The patient needs to behave.”

Given that he’s still bantering with you, the injury must not look that bad.

Any response you would have had is cut off by the sting and shock of the cold rag he’s gently wiping across your ribs.

Silence fills the air and in the calm it finally hits you.

“Wait, how did you know I got hurt?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Opting instead to search for a gauze and scissors to cut it to size.

“I didn't. It was a lucky guess.”

“Huh?”

“I heard news of a wanderer attack near your place. ”

“That doesn't necessarily mean I'd get hurt?”

His fingers ghost over your skin as he finishes taping the gauze. Your eyes follow the trail of his hands. Large and littered with scars from his time on the field. Hands that have saved so many lives. Lost in your thoughts you almost miss the next thing he says.

“-Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?!”

He sighs and gets off his knees, now towering over you. He looks down and you think you see just the smallest hint of amusement on his face, but you blink and it's gone.

“I said,” he pauses and leans in closer, “you're still in your bloody uniform, you need to take off your clothes.”

“Ah.” Your mouth is dry as you mentally reprimand yourself for assuming he had meant something else.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room?”

“Nope.”

And with that you are on your feet, scurrying over to your room. You're changed and in much comfier attire in no time. Meanwhile, Zayne has since been inspecting your fridge.

He closes the door and you can already hear the lecture he's about to give.

“Before you say anything, I was going to buy groceries, BUT, the wanderer sort of distracted me.”

He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone. Deft fingers tapping on the screen.

“The food will be here in 30 minutes, you should drink water and rest in the meanwhile.”

“Huh?”

He walks off to grab a glass and fills it with water before coming back to escort you to your couch. Instructing you to finish the drink. His eyes hone in on the blood stains and his brows furrow but he doesn’t say a word.

He walks back to the kitchen, dampens another rag, and squeezes a few drops of soap on top. Before you can stop him, he’s kneeling on one knee and making quick work of the stains and patting the spot dry.

“Zayne, you’re being so domestic. Do you do this for all your patients?”

He places the rag on your coffee table and turns to you, and for the first time you’re actually looking down on his face.

You stare, taking in his eyes, a shade of honey green that you could spend hours poring over, like an ever-shifting image of a galaxy. When did you get so poetic?

The rain’s pitter patter and the soft ambience of lamplight make this feel like a scene out of a movie, the yellow glow softening his sharp features. He reaches over and palms your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Only for my most reckless patients.”

You can feel the rise of your chest, the fluttering of your heart, and swallow slowly; eyes wander all over his face.

It’s only now that you notice that his hair is a little damp. You inch closer and you catch his eyes lower to your lips. Time moves at that infuriatingly slow speed like you’re dreaming, and the- DING DONG!

Delivery. Mood shaken, and sudden realization of what was about to happen, you both stand and look away. Zayne beats you to the door and grabs the food from the clueless delivery guy as you try your best to not stare daggers at him.

You go to set the table for two, but Zayne interrupts you.

“I have to go soon.”

“What?” Your disappointment clear.

“I just got a message, there’s a patient under critical condition I ought to check on.”

He places the food on the table, and you grab his hand to stop him.

“Wait, you ordered the food, you should take it.”

“I ordered it for you.” He replies cooly.

“Zayne!”

You can see that he has no intention of taking any of it with him and admit defeat.

“Fine. But I’m taking you out to lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles and gently pats your head. “I look forward to it.”

You walk him over to your door and hand him an umbrella, the rain still pattering outside. He turns to you and gestures for you to come closer.

Confused you inch closer and lean into him. His hand finds its way back to your cheek and he places a quick soft kiss on your forehead.

“This will do for now.” He smirks and walks away before your brain is able to process what just happened.

“For now?!” You barely manage to yell at him before he rounds the corner and disappears down the hallway.

Mouth agape, you’re about to go running after him but are promptly reminded of your injured state by a sudden stab of pain.

“Zayne!” You’re not sure if he can hear you, but you don’t care. The fluttering in your heart has you almost floating as you giggle and close the door.

You grab your phone and shoot him a message.

You: You’re bad for my heart.

Zayne: Good thing I’m your doctor.