#raspberry meadow

[tobnikk]

Some support from my boy Raspberry🍉🍉

I’m not very well-informed so please do go easy on me,,

[uponthemeadow]

All of our berry bushes are done, can you guess which ones will be in the game? Little pots and their sprouts are next!

[witch-with-scissors]

~~It's Hard to Be Small~~

~~~~~~

My collage forest is inhabited by various creatures. In addition to insects and magical animals, you can find mushroom-mermaids, miniature centaurs, humanoid jackalopes, bug-people (elves?) and really small forest people.

The last ones are not dwarves, but they may resemble them a bit. They don't have an easy life, though… 🍓

[grimst4rs]

"what are you doing here?" dorcas asked, gripping the broom's handle so hard her knuckles whitened. mckinnon flew down towards her team, her feet lightly hitting the ground as she landed, standing, her back straight, in front of dorcas.

"what did it look like i was doing, exactly?" she asked, cocking a pale brow. "i thought you were a smart girl, meadowes; i was flying, until you came and disturbed me from doing so."

"the pitch is booked today," dorcas said, through gritted teeth and, with the corner of her eye, she could see alecto and zoya snickering. "we have a signed permit from slughorn, mckinnon. get off the pitch."

"who are you to tell me what to do?" mckinnon taunted her, leaning slightly forward, and grinned. "last time i checked, you were not the head of my house, and you also were not the captain of my team, therefore you cannot control my behavior on the pitch, which is public property, by the way."

"don't play smart with me, mckinnon," she hissed, glaring at her, dark brown bleeding into hazel, two galaxies colliding, an explosion of what they were.

she felt weak under mckinnon's gaze, her eyes burning, piercing her, searching for any kind of vulnerability. for a moment, dorcas thought her gaze had softened — but it had been just her imagination. mckinnon gave her a cocky smile and strolled off the pitch, not before blowing dorcas a small raspberry.

what had that been? and why would dorcas stay up at night, when all of her friends were asleep, thinking about it?

[nabaath-areng]

Photos from last year.. heaven on earth

[kae-karo]

@alienjack my beloved tyty for the tag !!!

honey or maple syrup // embroidery or knitting // sheep or cows // meadows or prairies // streams or lakes // baking or cooking // blackberries or blueberries // raspberry preserves or strawberry jam // wildflowers or rose bushes // dusk or dawn // bees or butterflies // tea or hot cocoa // sugar cubes or sugar bowls // pancakes 🥞 or waffles 🧇 // books 📚 or music 🎶 // songbirds or rustling leaves // napping under trees or sleeping in a field // checkered or floral // drying flowers or pressing flowers

i will leave this for anyone who would like to do it, please consider yourself tagged!! 💜💜

[gothsuguru]

black is the color of my true love’s hair

synopsis: your devotion to suguru is second to none — you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! ♡

contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k

a/n: (happy) belated birthday fic for my beloved husband! <3 the title of the fic is a lyric from “black is the colour��� by celtic woman, it’s a very loving & devotional song so i wanted to do a story based on those themes! p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away, but i hope you enjoy! happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!

it’s a simple action, really.

you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.

you catch him off guard the first time you do it.

the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.

it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.

his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.

he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.

he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.

your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately — as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.

your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze, eyes locked in a staring contest of love.

utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

a sign of affection.

an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.

his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?

suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.

if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.

it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection when he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”

tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”

unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.

the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.

like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.

if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.

he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.

wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.

“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”

he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.

your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.

your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty, as if you could never get enough.

while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.

all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.

all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.

his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.

golden eyes turned onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own, his right hand moving to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.

it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.

he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough.

suguru burns with a hunger to become one with you.

he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.

with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.

suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.

you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite actor clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)

you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!

he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “babe, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.

“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, a big goofy smile on your face.

“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.

“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”

he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”

after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.

and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.

he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”

you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”

you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”

his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.

how fitting.

you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.

when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he almost resembles a painting.

the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, eyebrow piercing and his lip piercing no longer in your peripheral, rather you see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.

shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.

you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.

stargazing. ✔️

you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the blossoming stage of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!

you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)

both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.

you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.

“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.

“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.

he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that.” sighing out a deep breath, he whispers, “but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.

he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”

you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”

you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.

“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.

he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve brought my fucking telescope!”

he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.

this is what you wanted to see.

if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.

the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.

he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.

“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.

you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.

he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.

frankly. it works.

he holds his hand out to you. a truce.

you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.

he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.

you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.

he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.

he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”

you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.

“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.

suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”

“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”

suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.

“what?”

you push yourself out of his grasp to hurriedly pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.

“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”

pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.

giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”

he blinks. “what?”

your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.

you’re shy.

he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.

you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”

“shut up.”

you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”

he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.

and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.

suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.

his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.

pulling away once more, you peer into pools of gold. with every fiber of your being, you truly believe that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars — a milky way of ochre and obsidian.

never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.

his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…

you are the most brightest.

the most beautiful.

the most meaningful.

“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”

you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!

you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.

you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…

hmm, that’s a bit odd.

now that you’re looking around…

the apartment is in complete disarray.

it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.

you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.

worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.

suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.

he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.

especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.

you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.

“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.

a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.

“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.

you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.

they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.

vacant of light.

you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.

you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.

you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.

(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)

you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)

cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.

you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”

you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.

suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth and with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.

he kisses your temple gently. planting a soft kiss against his knuckles, you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.

even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.

you simply want to return the favor.

satoru arrives at your doorstep wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the delicate sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.

as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.

waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.

the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.

padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.

you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.

opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!

walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.

after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.

you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.

cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.

turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.

there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.

you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.

clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!

you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.

by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.

you take a can of sprite out of the fridge and onto the counter, while simultaneously placing an order for cold zaru soba noodles from suguru’s favorite local spot. you place another order at your best friend sukuna’s bakery for suguru’s most beloved dessert: matcha crepes. you figure ordering a bouquet of flowers would be a cute, fun little surprise too — anything to put a smile on suguru’s face.

you also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it while also ordering all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing with your entire soul that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.

with a pep in your step, you walk back into the bathroom to get the most important part of your night started.

suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.

in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.

thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.

hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.

he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.

but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.

he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–

oh?

what?

suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.

the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.

dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…

he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.

he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.

a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.

“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.

he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.

“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.

feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.

“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.

to you, it’s a vow. an oath.

his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.

“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.

“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.

he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”

always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.

he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.

from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.

his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.

your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.

he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.

“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.

this almost feels like a purification process to him.

you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.

you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.

“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.

“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”

he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.

suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.

it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”

their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?

suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.

then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.

he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.

“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.

“out. with my friends.”

he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.

suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.

he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.

the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.

the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.

then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.

his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…

but he just wanted to be free.

all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.

a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.

right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.

you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you, you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.

he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re laughing about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”

“my protector.” you coo to him.

a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.

he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”

so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.

while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.

he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.

his mind travels back to you. his one true love.

ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty — your smile made suguru feel butterflies flutter around in his stomach, he remembers the day you walked into the parlor and how everything in that moment stopped… as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if he could already imagine a future life with you. your personality shining through like a beacon of light, and as he got to know you further, your loving words & caring actions only made him fall deeper in love.

suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.

“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.

“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”

for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.

“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.

suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.

voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”

“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.

a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.

the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.

you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.

“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…

but just then, the doorbell rings.

“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.

he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.

you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.

“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.

“thank you.”

kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”

for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?

“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”

he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”

he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid show and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”

“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???

“babe. he SUCKS.”

he knows you so well, he muses to himself.

he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.

he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.

it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.

it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.

but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.

earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.

but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?

his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”

a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.

“sure.”

you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.

he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.

he knows you’re hiding something.

he doesn’t like not being in the know.

is it something he did?

is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?

since when were you afraid of him?

were you always–?

in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?

suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.

of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.

always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.

sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.

that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.

a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.

at least he hopes he comes off like that.

“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”

he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.

he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.

he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.

strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.

paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.

an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.

a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.

he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.

he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.

suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.

“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.

“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.

he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.

you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.

he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.

hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.

in your hands is a… huge book?

“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”

he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.

you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”

birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.

he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.

“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.

blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.

photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.

one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

is this what you were doing?

he feels so stupid.

but god… does he feel so fucking loved.

you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.

he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.

he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.

he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.

“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “you know my heart beats for you, right?” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.

he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.

you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.

you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.

“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.

if someone asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.

he has four more words of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.

with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “i’ll always love you, forever.”

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

marauders era (and pre-marauders era?) characters as fruits <3

mary macdonald : pomegranates

alice fortescue : blueberries

james potter : mangoes

remus lupin : pears

lily evans : strawberries/cherries

marlene mckinnon : apples

dorcas meadowes : blackberries

peter pettrigrew : lemons

kingsley shacklebolt : figs

sturgis podmore : plums

emmeline vance : green olives

pandora rosier : lychees

regulus black : blackcurrants

barty crouch jr. : blood oranges

evan rosier : raspberries

bellatrix black : black grapes

narcissa black : red grapes

andromeda black : green grapes

edward tonks : apricots

[biscuit-babbles]

HSR Men Omegaverse (A/B/O) Scents

To pair with the dynamics headcanons list, I'm going to do a short and sweet one about their scents! Also, this headcanon will be taking some inspiration from @daylightdabbles's Teyvat Omegaverse AU, but is not required to read beforehand!

Rating: SFW Warnings: None Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luka, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade, Argenti, Dr Ratio, Aventurine + Gallagher Summary: What scents help to identify each of the HSR men?

Scent has always been a bit of an odd topic for CAELUS, considering the stellaron pulsing in his chest. While it doesn't seem to be hurting him, it does affect his scent, though fortunately to not such a degree that it's concerning. All it does, fortunately, is add a burnt note to it, making Caelus smell distinctly of a smore that had been left over the fire a bit too long. His scent isn't really sweet nor earthy, but a compromise between the two, with hints of metal heated by licking flames.

As opposed to being just odd, DAN HENG's relationship with his scent is a bit of a sore subject. Even though the scent is entirely his and not swayed by his environment, there's still notes to it that are reminiscent of the Xianzhou by association. Because of this, he tries to nullify it as much as possible, without completely canceling it out. His scent consists of weathered paper, sea spray, and peach trees.

One of the most comforting scents you can come across belongs to Joachim Nokianvirtanen, also known as WELT. By now, it's a staple of the Astral Express, soothing those that board the express and allowing them a comfortable passage. He smells of sandalwood, warm bread, and hot cocoa. It's not overpowering, but it lingers longer than most.

As a beta, GEPARD's scent carries traces of his beloved home, Belebog, as well as his own identifying scent. The cold sting of wintery air and the lingering of rusted metal is paired with rosemary and chamomile tea. Contrasting Welt, Gepard's scent is very strong, filling one's entire chest, but the bitter cold and winds tend to sweep it away almost the moment he leaves a room.

It's hard to say that SAMPO even has a real scent anymore. He has caked on so many perfumes, colognes, and even scent blockers that it's a weird hodgepodge of different scents, just as chaotic as the Aeon he follows. Depending on the day or placement, you can smell an assortment of spiced and floral scents, with the only constant being the lingering of raspberries and blackberries.

Everyone in The Moles knows that if you're in danger, to follow the scent of grilled steak, as it will inevitably lead to LUKA. Though, grilled steak isn't the only thing he smells like, with it being accompanied by the scents of black pepper and citrus. It's a thick, comforting scent, but has the tendency to make others hungry if they spend too much time around him.

It's fortunate for those working under JING YUAN that he smells not only remarkably pleasant, but that the scent itself isn't overbearing. One can only truly describe his scent as 'clean', often being likened to a windy meadow. Jing Yuan usually smells of a mild breeze, wildflowers, and oranges. Though, whenever he's angry or in the heat of battle, it tends to be darkened by the scent of oncoming rain and storm clouds, as if disturbing the previously still meadow.

Traveling place to place as an omega has meant that LUOCHA's scent has.. wavered, for lack of a better term. Omegas typically smell like home, the things they surround themselves with. That's hard to do when your surroundings change daily. It's caused plenty of alphas and betas alike to be confused and unnerved by him, but other omegas find him quite charming. If you take a deep breath, however, you can make out the airy scent of lilies, polish for his rapier, and the fruity scent of his shampoo.

A long, long time ago, there was a craftsman who was said to have smelled of passion and the forge itself. But that man is long gone, leaving BLADE behind in his wake. While Yingxing's original scent disappeared along with him, Blade finds that he is now identified by the scents of smoldering embers, dew-laden spider lilies, and cinnamon. Whenever he finds himself mara stricken or enraged, the embers flare up, leaving the distinct smell of smoke and hot metal. Though, when he's content, it's said to be a comforting scent.

One of the things ARGENTI prides himself on as a Knight of Beauty is his scent. It stood out from the scents of smoldering rubble and fear that clung to his hometown, but has since been embraced as proof he was meant to follow the Beauty. Not very many alphas have such tender, floral scents as him. He smells of freshly cut roses, an early morning fog, and the heart of a lush forest.

Frankly, DR RATIO doesn't concern himself much with his own scent. It's simply a biological fact to him, it doesn't need any further attention nor dressing up. Though he can't help the flattered feeling that swells in his chest whenever he catches someone swooning over his scent, which tends to linger heavily wherever he goes. Dr Veritas Ratio smells of pomegranate, sandalwood, and buttered toast.

Another person that hides their scent often is AVENTURINE, who never allows his true scent to show. Scents are like facial expressions, they can betray your true intentions, and Aventurine refuses to have anything but a perfect poker face. Hidden under layers of strong colognes and scent blockers, locked away from the public eye and only kept the secrecy of Aventurine's own room, is the scent of vanilla, shea butter, and blueberries.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, GALLAGHER is constantly surrounded by scents, and finds a sense of comfort in their expression. It's said that he even smells like a perfectly blended drink himself, with a sweet but savory blend that seems to take the edge off of most he comes into contact with. Gallagher smells of fresh grapes, strawberry schnapps, and rose.

[coqvttes]

Hey I love your blog so much and your writing is amazing and the picnic idea is so cute! Could I do Fairy Cakes with Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley with a female!reader and the activity be maybe just the two of them reading or painting together in a meadow or something. I love sappy things like that 🥺❤️👉👈

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 hey, my love! thank you i’m so glad you like the picnic idea and i appreciate it! i love fluff and this is such a sweet idea! ❤︎︎

sfw : gn!reader, fluff.

“stay still," he orders, you pout at him as you stop fixing your hair.

“ughh c’mon you must be finished by now!” he smiles at your complaint and shakes his head. you huff and cross your arms, your eyes trained on the way his eyebrows are pinched in concentration as he focuses on the strokes of the paintbrush. 

occasionally he lifts his gaze from the pad of paper to look up at you, taking in every single detail. he swears you’ve never been prettier with the way the sunlight falls perfectly on you, illuminating you like an angel, his angel. he smiles at how you play with the flowers by your legs as you lay on the blanket comfortably.

the sweet sounds of birds singing and the wind blowing the through the leaves of the trees, it's perfect, it's calming. you smile at how the wind blows his hair, messing it up a little.

he finally stops painting and just stares at the paper, holding it at just the right angle so you can’t catch a glimpse of it. he’s studying it, but it seems that he doesn’t like it much. 

“come on i know you’re finished. let me seeeee!”

“no! i'm not good at this, trust me, you don’t want to see it.” 

you protest and hastily try to snatch the pad of paper from his hands, but his grip is strong, and he pulls it away from you just in time. 

“please, simon, pleaaase.” you pout, and he raises his brows at you but softens at the sound of your whining and the look on your face. he gives in, just like he always does, finally turning the paper around to show you. he looks away in embarrassment, and you can see the flush that spreads across his cheeks. 

you take it from his hands, and there are practically hearts in your eyes as you look at it with adoration. you smile at the adorable portrait he's painted just for you. it looks like the handwork of a child's, but you love it so so much because it’s simon’s. 

he’s put so much thought into it, making note of all the details that he just loves about you, and it makes your heart melt. he notices how you stare for a while and tries to pry it from your hands, but you pull it flush against your chest and smile at him. 

“i love it, simon. thank you!” you practically throw yourself against him, and he wraps his arms around you in an embrace, smiling into your hair as he inhales your sweet scent. 

“thought you might not like it,” he mumbles as you pull away, pecking his lips. you giggle at his words and look at the drawing pad in your hands.

“of course i do, silly!” 

“who are you calling silly?” with that, he lunges at you, your back hitting the soft blanket, the grass prickling you slightly through the thin fabric. he pins you down to the ground with one palm before tickling your side with the other. you squeal uncontrollably when he buries his head in your neck, blowing raspberries into your skin, causing you to giggle and squirm beneath him. 

he chuckles down at you, and in that moment, he’s never felt more in love with you. only you can make him feel vulnerable like this, only you can bring out the playful side of this beast of a man, and only you, could he love so much.

[tobnikk]

Just wanted to share one of my silly aus, first time posting on tumblr, kinda nervous hehe.. I present Raspberry Meadow Au Wally!! My scene punk boyo, I love him. I hope you guys like the silly as well. I don’t have it on these references but he has a pet cat.

[reidslovely]

Bambi!! I have a request, my love!

Frat!Peter taking you and your little baby daughter on a picnic sometimes because he just wants to spend time alone with his girls ♡ maybe she's a bit older by now and he just chases her around a field and they pick flowers to bring to momma? he's so girl dad I'm gonna cry. okay, anyway, love you, love frat!Peter, hope you have a lovely day/night

Tana my love I love you so much!! I adore this thought and while listening to my cute little domestic Peter playlist Hozier's In a Week came on and it only fueled me to write more...thus I give you this cute little blurb..

We'd Become the Flowers

(please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post pretty please)

Grass and flowers crushed under Peter's bare feet as he chased the three year old around the field. “Maisy, Maisy, Maisy May.” He said your little girl's name in a sing-song voice pretending not to be able to catch up with the little girl. 

“Be careful you two I don’t need another coffee table incident.”

Peter and the little girl's ears peaked at your voice yelling into the field. 

“I only needed a few stitches.” Peter defends himself, hearing you laugh. Snatching the curly haired toddler into his arms blowing a soft raspberry on her cheek. 

Her soft giggles and squeals of more filled the air in the meadow, you lounged lazily on the yellow checkered blanket with your finals study guide/homework scattered around you. Peter could see a blur of your hair color and the blue sundress hazy in the sunlight. 

“Wanna help daddy?” Peter asked, kissing his daughter's head spinning her around. 

“Wanna help.” She says kicking her legs as Pete puts her down picking a handful of flowers. She watches him intently grabbing from yellow and pink flowers. “For momma.” 

Peter nodded in response. “Of course.” 

Peter watched her adoringly, she was the perfect mix of the two of you. She was so little but her heart already held your passion and kindness. Her need for adventure and terrible two’s coming from him. He thanked whatever sent you to him, and whatever got him here. He sat in the grass pretending to bite at the flower his daughter was putting in his face.

 These were his favorite days, all day picnics in upstate. He felt a joy he knew all too familiar. It was the same feeling he held going to ball games with Ben growing up, but now he was happy to be on the other end. 

Peter carried his daughter on his hip as he walked back, her little arms tucked full of the flowers they had picked. Maisy insisted she was big and strong enough to carry them all. 

“What is this?” Your head craned up to look at them and the heat built in Peter’s chest and face. 

“Just a little gift for momma.” Peter smiles sitting Maisy down as she handed you the bouquet, which of itself was pretty impressive. 

“Awe thank you Maisy May.” You said kissing your daughter's head flattening out her hair. Maisy smiled hugging her arms around your neck and Peter took a mental picture tucking it away into his long term memory. 

“Everything okay?” You had asked him after a bit of him just sitting and staring, your daughter half asleep in your lap. Your fingers played with her curls as Peter's chin rested on his knee. He smiled and twirled one of the pink flowers from the batch. 

“Everything is perfect bashful, I got my girls.” 

Hope you enjoyed this small little blurb friend 🫶🏼 it was so cute.

Taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @a-lumos-in-the-nox @moonyslove78 @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @eevylynn

If you'd like to join my taglist check my pinned post!!

[witch-with-scissors]

"Hit the Road Jack Alope" "And don't you come back" "No more, no more, no more, no more" ♪♪♪

~~~~~~

Oh, he'll come back. And not once, I know that already!

I love my local folk tales and old beliefs. They're incredibly interesting, crazy and rich. Against them, the North American jackalope comes off quite… poorly. But for some reason I love him anyway. I mean, come on! A horned hare!? Awesome! 🐇

Meanwhile, I'm humming Ray Charles and having fun with my virtual scissors. ✂️

[serene-faerie]

Doriathrim (plus Beren and Túrin) as Aesthetics

Thingol— towering pine trees, fireflies, a sharp jawline, stern yet gentle eyes, baroque architecture, glittering caves, majestic stags, hands as strong and firm as stone, sweet pomegranates, red wine and roasted meat, neat handwriting, the smell of pine, a melodic baritone voice, kohl-lined eyes that make them sharper, a raised eyebrow to convey displeasure and anger, silver jewelry, neatly-combed hair, diamonds, hunting boots, hugs that linger, well-loved books with folded pages, loving one’s family, autumn leaves, wolves howling at night, tall grass, a great waterfall, graceful postures, roasted game meat, white horses, flowing robes, piercing gazes, soft humming, classical music, unyielding morals, the color of the sky at dusk.

Melian— clear night skies, knowing smiles, the silver light of a waxing moon, braided dark hair, a clear and crystalline voice, elegant harp music, deep-pink jewels, soft hands, flowing gowns, loving gazes, kisses on the forehead, motherly hugs, laughter that sounds like music, white wine, moonflowers, the smell of earth after rain, forest walks, bird watching, dark eyes filled with ancient wisdom, a gentle spring breeze, the pink skies of dawn, romantic paintings, lavender flowers, always knowing what to say, birds in the trees, a flowing river, a graceful doe, blackberries, whispered singing, eyes crinkling with joy, ever present sorrow.

Beren— golden sunlight, forest bathing, leather boots, sword-calloused hands that touch gently, long, tousled brown hair, hardened yet sorrowful eyes, smiles as warm as summer, green cloaks, the smell of amber and cloves, sleeping beneath trees, hearty laughter, falling in love at first sight, a courageous spirit, a rough but warm voice, promising to protect those he loves, loving despite losing everyone dear, patching up injuries, lingering touches, dancing among the flowers, wild berries, fiery sunsets, warm hugs, brown bears, scarred muscles, hand kisses, vows to protect, the coming of summer, forest meadows, reverent whispers of love, admiring gazes, sweet wine, campfires.

Lúthien— starry skies, soft skin, long and loose dark hair, flower crowns, carefree smiles, eyes full of starlight, a voice like crystal, laughter as warm as summer nights, blue gowns, bare feet, ballet dancing, rosy lips, nightingales in the trees, shimmering purple eyeshadow, loving with one’s whole heart, jasmine flowers, red cherries, the smell of lilacs, the loving warmth of spring, sparkling jewels, meadows in the springtime, gentle hand-holding, butterfly kisses, elderflower cordial, sleeping amidst flowers, breaking out of the shell, soft singing, summer storms, april showers, a light in the darkness, a courageous heart, the pale blue morning skies.

Dior— dark, tousled hair, bright eyes, sparkly jewelry, a rugged elegance, a young fawn, mischievous smiles, blue jays, close bonds with family, witty comebacks, blueberries, sharp teeth dripping with blood, righteous fury, defending one’s home to the death, childhood lullabies, swimming in rivers, stargazing, crackling fires, the smell of musk, challenging death head-on, gleaming swords, blood moons, silver rings on each finger, collecting rain in cupped palms, raspberry tea, cicadas buzzing at dusk, the warm caress of a late spring breeze, thunderstorms, flashes of lightning, violent winds.

Nimloth— flushed cheeks, long silver hair, eyes with a gleam both faint and fierce, cunning smiles, loving fiercely, flower garlands, green gowns, careful hands, the new moon, emerald jewelry, golden earrings, bathing in forest rivers, protecting family with one’s life, sharp blades, a mother bear, white flowers, floral tea, strawberries, thrushes, holly leaves, blood upon one’s cheeks, torn dresses, the cool air of dawn, honey cakes, killing one’s enemy at the cost of one’s life, embroidered sheets, cherry-red lipstick, no regrets, victory in death, dying with a smile upon one’s face.

Elwing— white seagulls, wavy dark hair, eyes that are hardened by grief and pain, glowing gems, blue ocean waves, collecting seashells, waters glittering with starlight, a quiet, firm voice, hands that tremble ever so slightly, thick blankets, a gentle sea breeze, gazing out at the sea, warm honey tea, bread and apricot jam, candlelight by the bed, fingertips stained with ink, counting the stars, a worn plush toy, white feathers, a heart burdened with sorrow, finding joy in the smallest things, whispered lullabies to oneself, the pale blue dawn, the smell of the sea, jewelry of silver and pearls, beachside walks with one’s family.

Daeron— wooden flutes, bookshelves with worn books, cursive handwriting, candlelight upon desks, quiet ambient music, a light, clear voice, quiet humming to oneself, a cool autumn breeze, falling asleep at a desk, a crown of leaves, seasonal poetry, flowing rivers, soft hair, lush green grass, pining silently, wandering the earth, living in solitude, the passing of spring, songwriting, warm tea with spices, trying to do what is right, loving one’s home, loyalty to one’s lord, eloquent fingers, singing at parties, knowing exactly what to say at the right time, midsummer nights.

Beleg— hair in a ponytail, feather-tipped arrows, fingerless gloves, keen eyes, silent footsteps, kind smiles, brotherly hugs, deer hunting, sleeping under trees, silver bracelets, cherishing the bonds of friendship, frost upon tree branches, the chill of winter, brown owls, icicles from rooftops, morning mist in the trees, roasted game meat, thick scarves, falling snow, frozen waters, rainy nights, thunderclouds, forgiving, tragic poetry, suppressing one’s emotions, polished hunting boots, bird calls, carvings in tree trunks, loving someone for their flaws, kisses on hands, goodbye kisses, lips stained with blood.

Mablung— sharpened knives, a silent hunter, worn leather boots, even-tempered, always trying to keep a level head, a calming voice, sad smiles, making tea for others, late night hunting trips, strong hands, caverns that echo, light-footedness, elegant yet broken spears, always being the bearer of bad news, giving advice that is never listened to, windswept hair, the smell of bergamot and ginger, a heart weighed by sadness, bittersweet farewells, the thick morning fog, black ravens, mud upon one's cheeks, riverside walks, horse riding through forests, respect and love for one's superiors, fighting to defend one's home.

Túrin— long dark hair, turbulent scowls, sharp eyes full of righteous anger and pain, alcohol, poor decisions, black tea, bedtime stories, tiny smiles, laughter that is scarcely heard, carving wooden animals with a knife, clothes stained with blood, heart racing with adrenaline, lightning, the rumbling of thunder, a hoarse and deep voice, solitude, abandoned cities, shattered mirrors, unyielding stubbornness and pride, words that can cut deep, quick to anger, loving deeply, passionate about justice, running barefoot across the grass, wilted flowers, withered trees, lucid dreaming, dark colors, restlessness, heavy boots, hooded capes, gleaming black swords, tears of anger and bitterness, cloudy skies.

Nellas— robins, three-leafed clovers, tall grass, sleeping in the trees, daisies, red apples, messy braids, short and loose dresses, walking barefoot, freckled cheeks, eyes as warm as the sun, feeding the squirrels, uncaring of anyone's opinions, loving the woodland creatures, the countryside, herds of deer, clusters of poppies, playing hide-and-seek in the forest, folklore stories of animals that speak, dirt under fingernails, crisp air, muddy feet, stargazing from the tallest trees, shy smiles, red foxes, red maple trees, rosy cheeks, a cute button nose, quiet observation, dried leaves in tangled hair, hushed whispers, secret giggles.

Oropher— tall oak trees, loose silver hair, a heart full of unending grief, glittering deep green robes, memorial shrines carved in stone, rosemary and heather, climbing vines, the smell of incense, loves the forest, anger that quietly simmers, a piercing glare to silence unwanted chatter, firm but gentle hands, the sound of rushing rivers, only trusting those who have earned it, quills dipped in ink, leather-bound journals, a compelling voice, silvery light, vast, old-growth forests, black bears, always keeping promises, grey-blue eyes, a mind haunted by memory, reluctant alliances, firm and unwavering principles, late night reading, being slow to forgive, tales of the past, bitter nostalgia, night skies fading into dawn.

Thranduil— a crown of oak leaves and woodland flowers, sweet and fruity wine, tall and dark forests, the crisp chill of early winter, high ceilings, a gleaming sword with a golden hilt, a silver necklace with white jewels, autumn berries, family hunting trips, joyous feasts late into the night, loving the forest through all the seasons, rings of silver and gold, silver eyeshadow, sharp eyeliner that enhances one's eyes, pale straight hair, a heart weighed with bittersweet melancholy, gently rocking a baby's cradle, long hours in the library, a marvellous deer, shimmering eyeshadow, disdain shown through raised eyebrows, the smell of autumn leaves, silk robes, stories about the forests and the stars, befriending the woodland creatures, loving those who are lost.

[galacticnikki]

A Baby Witch's First Grimoire

Grimoire Entry 14 - Protection Herbs

A:

Acacia

African Violet

Agrimony

Ague Root

Aloe

Althea

Alyssum

Amaranth

Angelica

Anise

Arbutus

Asafetida

Ash

B:

Balm of Gilead

Bamboo

Barley

Basil

Bay

Bean

Betony, Wood

Birch

Bittersweet

Blackberry

Bladderwrack

Bloodroot

Bluebell

Bodhi

Boneset

Briony

Bromeliad

Broom

Buckthorn

Burdock

C:

Cactus

Calamus

Caraway

Carnation

Cascara Sagrada

Castor

Cedar

Celandine

Chrysanthemum

Cinchona

Cinnamon

Cinquefoil

Clove

Clover

Club Moss

Coconut

Cohosh, Black

Cotton

Cumin

Curry

Cyclamen

Cypress

D-G:

Datura

Devil's Bit

Devil's Shoestring

Dill

Dogwood

Dragon's Blood

Ebony

Elder

Elecenpane

Eucalyptus

Euphorbia

Fern

Figwort

Fleabane

Frankincense

Galangal

Garlic

Geranium

Ginseng

Gorse

Gourd

Grain

Grass

H-K:

Hazel

Heather

Holly

Honeysuckle

Horehound

Houseleek

Hyacinth

Hyssop

Irish Moss

Ivy

Juniper

Kava-Kava

L-M:

Lady's Slippers

Larch

Larkspur

Lavender

Lekk

Lettuce

Lilac

Lime

Linden

Loosestrife

Lotus

Lucky Hand

Mallow

Mandrake

Marigold

Masterwort

Meadow Rue

Mimosa

Mint

Mistletoe

Molluka

Mugwort

Mulberry

Mullein

Mustard

Myrrh

N-Q:

Nettle

Norfolk Island Pine

Oak

Olive

Onion

Orris

Papaya

Papyrus

Parsley

Pennyroyal

Peony

Pepper

Periwinkle

Pilot Weed

Pimpernel

Pine

Plantain

Plum Purslane

Quince

R-S:

Radish

Ragwort

Raspberry

Rattlesnake Root

Rhubarb

Rice

Roots

Rose

Rosemary

Rowan

Sage

St. John's Wort

Sandalwood

Sloe

Snapdragon

Southernwood

Spanish Moss

Squill

Sweetgum

T-Z:

Tamarisk

Thistle

Ti

Toadflax

Tomato

Tormentil

Tulip

Turnip

Valerian

Venus' Fly Trap

Vervain

Violet

Wax Plant

Willow

Wintergreen

Witch's Hazel

Wolf's Bane

Yerba Santa

Yucca

Feel free to check out my master post for more information!

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 8 - A nightingale sang

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

eigth chapter synopsis: A surprising invitation made you discover a different, incredible place hidden in Greenwood. You were glad that Thranduil showed you such a special place. But probably you were even more glad that he was there with you. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. pre-Smaug. cried writing this but this is apparently something that will happens with every chapter so... go hear a nightingale sang in berkeley square. look i am just a sensitive girl in a difficult world, this is straight up murdering you with love.

glossary: Idril: Treasure, sweetheart┆Ellon: Male elf┆

Forests are secrets in themselves. They hide things. That is what they do, their primordial essense. A forest without a secret is a human without a soul, a planet without a star. That is the real language of the woods.

You knew all the meadow’s secrets in Rivendell. You knew where the sprouts flourished, where the clearing started, where the trees fall after storms. You knew all its secrets, until you did not.

Because in kind places a forest hides wisteria and sage sprouts. In cruel ones it hides wargs and warm blood. And for those who are lucky enough it hides suspended gardens.

Stone pillars, embedded on gold, supported all seven floors. It would already be a beautiful sight, light reflecting in waves of warmth through Greenwood, but the ascending series of tiered gardens above each floor turned it into a paradise. Each specimen from the wide variet of trees, flowers and vines were part of this mountain constructed of golden bricks.

“I got goosebumps”, you whispered. It smelled like honey there. “Why did you hide this place from me!?”

Strangers had been born and buried and their lifetime would be nothing compared to all the time the Elvenking spend on the suspended gardens. And still, looking into your moist eyes, Thranduil discovered a new sort of beauty in this place.

The green of the vines, more verdant. The gold of the pillars, more golden. The pink of the flowers, more rosy. The whole world was brighter. Wind whispering against the autumn leaves, birds flocking, river crashing against stones: the world became a song. Such a beautiful, intricate symphony. One that he never noticed before.

It must be fate. That was meant to be. Since the world was first created and the stars were put into place. For what other reason did he survived this far, if not to admire you admiring the world his ancestors build? For what reason did Thranduil endured this far, if not to be alone in this world with you?

The Elvenking gestured towards the gardens. “Shall we, idril?”

Thranduil watched as you prepared a raspberry pie in silence, which was better than when he tried to make you let someone else finish it. As if it was offensive for you to get your hands dirty. Your last job was to take care of horses. What is a pie compared to that?

Cleaning your hands, you almost could not believe your ears when the invitation came. It was strange of him to have free time during the day. He never had before, not once since you first got in his realm. But you were not the one to remind a king of his duties.

Not when that can take him away from you.

“You really should stop doing that”, you continued along the paved way, and Thranduil followed your eager steps. Turning to look at him instead of facing the path, a delicate smile showed you did not meant what you were saying. “Calling me words I do not know.”

“Yet”, Thranduil completed. “Do not know yet.”

On the first floor, you understood that the construction did not matter. Its halls were simple, with long open arches and practically empty except for the occasional sculptures. Anyone there would only have eyes for the gardens, and whoever built it knew that no amount of gold or jewels would ever compete with nature.

Quince flowers draped over the walls, pears were almost to the point of crop. Thranduil showed you almond flowers, his long fingers brushing against the tiny buds. You did not even knew almonds came from flowers.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, you brushed your hands against the rough trunk of a pistachio tree.

Following throught the halls, you could see the garden suspended over the first floor. Butterflies and bees flew around the almond flowers, which made you speed up the pace. You heard Thranduil laughing, but you were too scared to open your mouth to complain only to ended up eating a bee.

A swallow landed on your hair, and you tried your best to not move so Thranduil would see it too. When he stopped in front of you, Thranduil’s eyes seemed so… calm.

You knew he was tired and worried. That he had much to do, to understand, to protect. In Rivendell people believe that Sauron is gone, but here they have more than faith to prove the contrary. But now Thranduil looks so peaceful.

“A little one mistook you by a tree”, Thranduil stretched a finger towards your hair. You felt the swallow moving, pulling your hair along, and saw it on his ring finger. Such a small thing, with greenish down.

Your smile went wider when you looked into his face.

“And you by a flower.” In his wood crown, butterflies found a new home. A smirk spread across your face. “If you pay attention, you really look like a sunflower. Always smiling, never yelling at anyone.”

Thranduil’s response was to roll his eyes.

On the third floor, you passed through ebony, cedar and rosewood. You told Thranduil how most of the trees surrounding Aerin’s inn are ash trees, and how sad it is that most of the stories you read use them as metaphor for dead things. Thranduil shared a poem about a willow tree.

It surprised you how he recited it from memory.

Junipers were new for you. Never before you heard about them. But myrrh was not. You told Thranduil that Luthien gave you a bottle of its oil and practically ordered you to use it on your shoulder. His peacefulness oscilated for a second, but it appeared again.

The floor with fruits were your favorite one. Thranduil split open a pomegranate, revealing clusters of seeds inside it. You both shared it, eating slowly while watching the sun reflecting upon Greenwood. You took a tangerine from its branch, and gave him half of it. With half of a fresh fig on your hands, you were more interest on plum flowers than on its fruit.

There is something about sharing a fruit with someone that just makes it feel holy. The way Thranduil cut the fig in half. How you cleaned the tangerine. Your fingers brushing against one another to take another seed. It just felt better than eating one alone.

You brushed your fingers against ferns and orchids. Cherry blossoms floated, washing you both upon pink petals. A few got stucked on your hair. A few that Thranduil did not warned you about.

On the last floor, there were tables and chairs made of wood, but what really mattered to you was the view. From up there, you could see everything. Greenwood, every floor and its suspended garden, a flowing river on distance.

“A step back,” said Thranduil. He sat down, observing carefully. “Your fall is not worth the landscape.”

“Do not be affraid. That will not happen”, your eyes locked on a bird flying away. You think it was a nightingale. He was so small, and yet he knew a type of freedom you would never. How must it be to fly? It happened for you to fall from places that made you feel like you were flying, until you met the ground. Does it works the other way around? You imagine so. “You do not need to worry about me.”

“How could I not?” replied Thranduil. “You reign in my mind. It is my duty to worry about your safety and happiness.”

Your mouth went dry. “It was never my intention to make you worry about me”, you whispered.

Words, when commonly used, tend to lose their initial meaning. It dissolves, disappears with each repetition, until the word is just a ghost of what it once was. Of what their meaning once was. So many man use love almost as a greeting, but not a ellon. Never a ellon.

“I never said it was.”

The silence pierced your mind. His words… Why Thranduil keep on doing this? Why he keep on saying those sweet, toothaching sweet things? Thranduil is so beautiful, and everytime he opens his mouth you get more sure that his heart is just as pretty. If you could open his skull and study his brain, you would.

“Still”, you licked your lips. “I am not falling.”

Thranduil nodded. You came back to watch the sky, mostly because you did not knew what else to do. It was rosy. A breeze made chills go down your spine, and a petal fell from your hair right into your hands. Your caressed it, and moved it closer to your nose.

“Who created this place?” You sniffed it. “They must be so proud.”

“It was my father.”

That warm feeling spreading into you faded away. He never talked to you about his father before, but you knew that there was only one way for a prince to become a king. What you do not know is how much does it hurt. It must be a lot. Usually things that we love hurt way too much.

You walked towards Thranduil. The way he made your thoughts hazy did not matter anymore. You pulled yourself a chair, and dragged it until it was right beside him. Thranduil chuckled at the act.

“He must have been really creative”, you told him. “How was he?”

That surprised Thranduil. People never ask things about his father. They only say that they are sorry, that they feel so much, that it must be so difficult. They never talk about Oropher. They always remind Thranduil that he is dead, but they never talk about him.

“Wise”, said Thranduil. With just one word, he already felt that it was so easier to breath. Sometimes it feels like Oropher only lives on his memory. Like there is this unsurmountable weight on his shoulders, one that none can see or help to carry. It felt nice to share. “And ruthless. He was the strongest until the very end.”

You tried to picture Oropher. The king who died too soon. The warrior that led his people against Sauron, and saw his knights falling down. You picture someone that knew the weight of a sword dipped in blood, the sound of a last breath, the rotteness of a dying land. You pictured this person, and then imagined him daydreaming about suspended gardens. Architecting a palace, designing irrigation, choosing seeds.

Oropher sounds like someone worth knowing.

Your fingers dipped into your watery dress, and you bit back a smile. You imagine that Thranduil have the same effect on people. That they will heard how he protect his land and his people, and then get amazed about how he can recite poems about a willow tree.

“And how was him to you? Was he good?”

“Not ruthless”, Thranduil smiled at the memories in hindsight. “He was gentle and… When I was just a little ellon, I used to not understand when it was time to shut up. Now I see how awful I was, but he always listened to me. He never made me feel like I should remain silent.”

You held his hand, it was so cold. Stroking his delicate skin, you felt a warmth inside you. Something different from anything you ever felt. You felt… not alone.

“I bet Oropher would be proud of you”, the words escaped your mouth. “You are good. You are also great, but you are good. Gentle.”

Somehow, Thranduil understood exactly what you meant. There are so many great people in this world. So many great poets, great warriors, great rulers. But good… Oh, it appears that the world is always lacking people that are good.

People who will discuss with dragons because their friends deserve their home back. People that will cross a continent to destroy a ring simply because someone needs to. People that will lit beacons without permission, that will use helmets to hide the fact that they are a woman, that will fight even as arrows pierce their chest.

“You think I am good?” Thranduil felt his eyes burning. “You really do?”

“Of course, my king.” You intertwined his fingers with yours. It felt right. Like they were made to complement eachother. A sly smirk replaced your genuine smile. “You think I would put up with you if I did not?

Thranduil looked at the horizon, hoping you would not notice the redness of his eyes. He reciprocated your touch, squeezing your hand lightly. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe it was the autumn leaves, but everything felt golden.

Everything felt just fine.

“You are good”, murmured Thranduil. “Is it because of your parents?”

You let go of his hand, and Thranduil felt the sky getting darker. Your colors also faded, as if it was robbed from your skin. “It is getting late”, you told him. You were quick to get up. Quick to lie. Badly. “I should come back.”

“I am sorry. I really am”, Thranduil ignored everything you said. There was no need for him to pretend to fall for your bad lies. He stand, just as fast as you. “But you are not a good liar, idril. I will not force you to say the truth, nor do I wish for you to speak when you do not want to, but you do not need to lie. Not to me. We are friends.”

You threw yourself onto the chair, without any energy to argue. You watched the horizon, the changing colors of the sky, and tried to ignore the pressure on your chest. “I am sorry.”

“No need to”, Thranduil sat too. He tried to be silent, but something told him that maybe you also had a unsurmountable weight on your shoulders. That maybe you also needed to share it. “Were they not good?”

“Maybe yes, maybe not”, you huffled. You responded right away, so Thranduil assumd he made the right decision. “That is the problem.”

With your eyelids closed, you turned your head to Thranduil. When courage made its way into your chest, you looked at him. Was he going to judge you? To see you as too much of a problem? A part of you feared that he would. The other half thought it was mean to think of him that way.

“I have no memories of them.”

He let you talk. About how you have no memories of parents, of any family, of growing or sharing meals or going to school or learning to read. About how for you it is like you were born during a thunderstorm, then wandered until you found Aerin. You told him everything.

After you rant, his silence came. He breathe in, and you could feel his body getting tense. “No one ever looked for you?” Thranduil finally said something.

You nodded.

For Thranduil, now everything makes sense. The way you tend to pretend not to see when Aerin treated you badly. Or how people insisted on not calling you by your name. Why you would have felt bad if you did nothing. The gentleness of your heart. How your intelligence have a touch of naivety.

But it also made him even more intrigued about why you and Gandalf are friends. Does he have any interest on your memories coming back? Is he the reason why they faded? Can you really see him as a friend?

Thranduil never liked those pilgrim wizards, and Gandalf tend to be the one creating more problems for him. If he is right about who betrayed the free people, then maybe you have something to do with it.

Thranduil licked his lips. “I think you are so unlucky.”

That made you burst into laugh. It was loud and ugly and genuine. “I… I agree.”

When silence came, it was natural. It was welcomed. You stared into his watery eyes, and decided that you would never try to hide things from Thranduil. It is just not worth the effort, now when he reacts this way. A gentle king.

“You still want to go back home?” Thranduil whispered. There was simply no need to, but he wanted to. It felt right to.

You turned your gaze to the sky, and it was on that marvelous moment when it is not day and it is not night. Thranduil did the same as you. “This place feels like a summer dream.”

A nightingale sang that night. Not that you both heard it, since your voices were louder. But it sang, and it still mattered.

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