#welcome carnation
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thebotanicalarcade · 2 years ago
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n1088_w1150
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n1088_w1150 by Biodiversity Heritage Library Via Flickr: Die Gartenwelt. Berlin :G. Schmidt,[1897- biodiversitylibrary.org/page/54901112
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lizaisdrawing · 8 months ago
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Thank you all! 🤍
Did not think I’d reach this milestone when I first posted my Wally fanart on a whim one night haha
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thapunqueen · 2 years ago
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Hey Hey Hey Lover,,
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hey-imma-fangirl · 24 days ago
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Another couple random drawings I did yesterday ^^
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Please Do Not Repost!
Reblogging is appreciated but not necessary ^^
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virtualmc · 7 months ago
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And I'm back! For now- finally got my touch pen so hopefully my art will be improving lol
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Woot! You found the first sketch and a version without the background and filter??
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(If you're new here, this is just a lil thing i do to show off the process- byeeeee)
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trasho-pando2011 · 1 year ago
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Rainbow battle thing idk 2: ORANGE
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shy-the-trash-lion · 2 years ago
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🌼OPENING THE FLOOD GATES FOR MY WH/ MUPPET OC, CAYSEE CARTNATION🌼
They are taking over my head space recently so take him and my apologies for not posting here ✨✨✨
Also their partner Cardinal and their guitar Lou Lou belongs to @/ Onyxxart on Twitter ✨
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mycountrycottage · 2 years ago
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Fresh flowers are •ALWAYS• welcome!
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brookeisa-phantom · 1 year ago
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IM WORKING ON SOMETHING CONFIRMED???? Yes. Yes I am. This intro took me 2 days because I animate like an insane person and don’t story board. Which is stupid I should probably start storyboarding… but anyway, yeah. This is the intro. Depending on what I do I’m gonna put some warning or disclaimers in the intro before publishing the full finished, edited animation.
So yeah! I’m arting✨
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andersonfilms · 4 months ago
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firefighter!abby who comes in every sunday morning to your floral shop, tucked in a tiny corner downtown. you’re usually tucked away in the back, doing floral arrangements, calculating your inventory, organizing new shipments, or just avoiding others in general. an introverted nature is ingrained into your bones. so, dina takes over the front counter. she’s sweet, kind enough to engage in conversation. big brown eyes and welcoming smile always seeming to put the customer’s at ease, assessing their needs as they step foot in the door. 
firefighter!abby who comes in on the dot, half-past nine, right before her shift. her build, incredibly tone, clad in black cargos and her seattle fire department t-shirt tucked in. she greets dina with her blinding, pearly white smile. warming her up to the core as dina grabs the assortment that’s ordered every week. yellow roses, white lillies, and peach carnations make their way into the abby’s hands. she thanks dina, with the same somber look in her eyes before she exits with the same bouquet she always does. 
firefighter!abby who is out for the day, cup of coffee in her hand, ellie to her right telling her about the black-haired beauty she met at the local pub. swearing up and down there was a cute friend, supposedly, but it really just sounds like this is her only way in which her friend needs to enlist help from the hunky-blonde for assistance. 
“So, let me get this straight. You met this girl—” 
“Dina.” Abby pauses, blonde eyebrows quirk upwards. “Wait, does she work at a floral shop?” 
“Yes—” Ellie pauses, envy swirling in her emerald eyes immediately, “Fuck, Anderson, do not tell me you’ve fucked her!” 
Abby smirks, wanting to tease her spunky friend. “C’mon, are you fucking serious? No. Shit. Did you really fuck her?” Abby winks as she takes a sip of her black coffee, bicep flexing in the process. 
“Dude. How the hell am I supposed to compete with your greek god  fucking biceps?” Ellie lifts up the sleeve of her shirt, comparing her much smaller arms to Abby’s very toned and thick muscle. Even Abby’s veins are more prominent than hers. 
Abby giggles, “First off, you can’t but you don’t have to…this time. I just buy flowers from there and everyone kinda knows everyone. It’s Jackson.” 
“Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. Jesus.” Ellie nudges her shoulder, picking at her naibeds anxiously. “So, will you come so you can meet her friend?” 
Abby thinks for a moment. How bad could it be? It’s just one night, right? 
firefighter!abby who comes to the flower shop on a saturday this time. the doorbell rings signaling her entrance, but she doesn’t find dina working the counter like she normally does. you’re someone new, someone she hasn’t seen before, someone beautiful. so much so, she feels as if her feet have been glued to the hardwood floors. dear god, she looks like a goddamn idiot. she’s thankful you’re helping someone as abby tries to break from her caulking spell. 
firefighter!abby who takes note of how attentive you are with the customers even if your body fidgets as you help them but then you smile, it makes her melt. anderson, get yourself together, you have a date tonight. it’s just one, incredibly beautiful girl. you’re fine. she’s fine. before her brain can make one more stupid thought, you’re walking up to her. 
You smell of lavender, it coats Abby’s senses as you make a beeline for her. It could be the shop or it could be you. She believes it’s you. 
“Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, Abby reads the name tag on your chest and musters up somewhat of a coherent sentence. You start making the arrangement for her, it’s then she notices how familiar it is. 
It isn’t the flowers she typically chooses, the one she orders through the website of the shop, but the craftsmanship is identical. Down to the yellow ribbon to wrap it neatly, keeping the specially made bouquet in place. 
Abby’s blue eyes must light up with wonder because you smile, it's soft as it slips out of you, too quick for you to hide behind the wall you usually keep yourself within. 
“Um, you make all the arrangements here, right?” Anxiously, you dust your hands on the maroon apron tied around your waist. 
“Yeah, I would hope so. It’s my shop.” You’re not boastful about it, or snarky, it’s sweet. As if you’re proud and you should be. 
“Oh, sorry! I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I just, um—” Speak blondie, you’re making a fool of yourself. “ I come here every week and have just never seen you before s’all. It’s nice to match the wonderful shop to the even prettier owner.” 
Abby wonders why she doesn’t ask for your number or even try to. She’s not exactly a stranger to beautiful women. When she knows what she wants, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never has she ever halted, or had someone stop her dead in her tracks without even trying. 
In her mind, she’s finding excuses. It’s the sun’s fault for letting the light hit your eyes perfectly, saturating the color even further. Or the way she obsesses over your curves, or the joy seeming to radiate every time you smile. 
It can’t be any of those little things. 
Abby fishes for the wallet in her jacket pocket, before handing you her card, you finalize the transaction before handing the silver card back to her. Calloused fingertips press against yours, much softer than Abby’s, but it excites the two of you. 
Not that either of you spoke a word of it. 
“You’re girlfriend’s a lucky girl. It’s a thoughtful gesture—” but your eyes build a fright in them, a horror that you can’t take back. “I’m sorry! Oh my god. I didn’t mean to just, fuck, assume you had a girlfriend or that you’re into girls. Jesus, I don’t know what came over me. God.” 
Abby bites down a smirk as you anxiously beat your nail on the countertop as if you ruined the interaction. Impatiently needing this to be over. 
“S’okay, really, you didn’t assume wrong.” Mischievous pools of blue look you up and down, pointed canines kissing her pink lips as they bite at the flesh. 
“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well—” Abby leans over placing her palm against yours, her fingertips linger on your skin, setting it ablaze. Releasing your grip of the bouquet and palming the wrapped flowers in her firm grasp.
“Not yet.” 
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lmk what you think! hope you enjoyed it! ♡
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gghostwriter · 4 months ago
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Death of a Love Affair
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t.
Warning: angst with no happy ending
A/n: this felt oddly personal to me this is my first time writing in the Y/N perspective and in a one shot format so please be kind. I kinda left a possibly for p2, not sure about that yet, but let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!
Main masterlist || Part 2A (happy end) || Part 2B (sad end)
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The first time it happened, you completely understood. 
You had an inkling as to what you were getting into when you started dating a 187 genius who graduated at a young age and who was scouted straight from college by the FBI. It wasn’t hard to comprehend these external circumstances mixed with his internal need to prove himself worthy of belonging with the big boys would result in missed personal events. It was a given, you expected it.
You just didn’t count on him missing your graduation. After all, he gave his word that he’ll be there to see you walk the stage and receive your diploma. He promised you and yet, as you scanned the crowd of loved ones hugging the attendees, there was no sign of his tie wearing, button up lithe form weaving through the crowd, no sign of his slicked hair, meticulously tucked behind his ears and no sign his doe eyed hazel eyes shining with pride as you joined the ranks of adulthood and unemployment.
You reach for your phone, now finally free from the nerves and adrenaline of going up the stage, with a single unread message from the one you wished to be here with you.
I’m sorry, angel. There’s a case and Gideon needs me. 
You sighed with a mild smile sprouting on your glossed lips as you sent back a reply.
No worries! We can celebrate when you get back. Be safe, I love you.
“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!” Your mom exclaimed, reaching for a hug. “You graduated and with so many achievements—I mean look at all these cords hanging around your neck!”
You laughed as you stepped out from her warm embrace and watched joyful tears gather under her eyes. “Thanks, Mom! Hopefully all these cords help me get a job soon, huh, or else I’ll be moving back home with you.”
“Oh honey, stop joking! As if I wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms,” she quipped back. 
A hand holding a bouquet of flowers shot up to your face. It was a bundle of your favorite, carnations, in ranges of different colors. 
“Congratulations, lil sis,” your older brother, Trevor, breathed out. “Do I get a hug too or is that just for Mom?” 
You giggled as you stepped into his arms, happy to be sharing this moment with your ever loving protector of a brother, no matter how busy he might be as a head chef for his own highly rated restaurant.
“Hey big brother, thanks for being here,” you mumbled in his tight grasp. “Did you pass along my invite to Dad?” 
You felt him subtly shake his head causing your smile to slightly falter. You knew better than to expect the man who gifted you half of his genes to show up—a workaholic, absentee of a father whose love language was to deposit checks to your bank account from his fattened pockets as a lawyer for the rich. It was the cause of your parents’ separation when you were five years old. The matriarch tired from taking up the mantle as both the paternal and maternal figure for both you and your brother. Your mother exhausted from repeatedly believing broken promises uttered to herself and to her babies.
Having seen first hand how each lie wrapped as an oath chipped a piece of the loving and bright woman who gave birth to you and your brother, you vowed to never let that happen to you. It was a cautionary tale engrained in your mind. A fable—a curse really and in hindsight, you should have seen the markings of history repeating itself.
“Now, where is your nerdy pipe cleaner of a boyfriend?” He asked as he scanned around the vicinity for a sight of Spencer.
You shrugged, genuinely alright with your FBI agent of a boyfriend missing this milestone in your life. “Duty called. But that’s okay, we’ll celebrate when he gets back.” 
A pair of eyes, similar to yours, inquisitively studied you as if making sure there was no hidden hurt behind those words uttered. “If you say so,” he stated, turning to your mother who was smiling at the both of you—her greatest treasures. “Mom, let’s get out of here. I had John prep the kitchen for a feast.” 
You and your mom chattered excitedly at the passenger back seat as Trevor backed the four-door navy sedan out of the parking and drove off to his restaurant for the promised lunch graduation.
———
It was well into the night as you were settling in bed when the tell-tale signs of the main door being unlocked echoed through the dark green walls of his apartment. 
“Spence?” You called out, letting him know that you were there instead of in your own apartment, 30 minutes away. 
More shuffling was heard before the object of your love and affection rounded the bedroom door with a set of his own flowers on hand. He breathed out your name in reverence as he went for a kiss, pleased that he had still caught you awake.
“Congratulations, my love,” he smiled as he pulled away from your soft lips. “These are for you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” 
You smiled back, gladly accepting his apologies and flowers. “It’s all good, Spence. I know how demanding your job is. I missed you.” 
“I missed you too. I told Gideon and Hotch that’ll I’ll be unavailable this weekend. It’s just you and me,” he said as he went in for another kiss, unable to resist any longer. Not long after, his outside clothes and your sleepwear were strewn all around the bedroom floor as both your bodies merged into one and reached a mutual crescendo with your gasps and his groans as the choir. 
***
The second time, you moderately understood.
You noted that the BAU was back in full swing with Gideon being brought back to the saddle after what happened in Boston. As his birthday treat, you both agreed to fly in for the weekend to Vegas to visit his mother at the facility. He never would have gone alone should it not have been for your enthusiasm to come with. You loved talking to Diana about Spencer’s childhood during her good days and you also loved being in her presence still even when she was lost in her teaching past—acting out as a student as you got to hear her lectures about literature. 
The bustling at the airport had you tip toeing up to catch a sight of Spencer, your flight departing in about an hour. It was a late Friday afternoon, travelers were piling in for a weekend trip, and he promised to head straight from the Bureau to the airport to meet you by the entrance. Your head swiveled from left to right, biting your lip as the minutes ticked by with no sign of your boyfriend running towards you.
The phone in your jean pocket rang and your heart slightly dropped at the sight of the caller ID.
“Hey pretty boy,” you greeted, naively wishing that this phone call wasn’t a bearer of bad news. “Are you almost at the airport?” 
There were muffled voices heard in the background. “Uhm—actually—”
You sighed, understanding what he wanted to say. “There’s a case,” you stated as a matter of fact. “It’s alright, Spence. I’ll tell your mom something popped up. No worries.” 
“You—you don’t have to go alone. We can always reschedule,” he suggested, the timber of his voice going up an octave as if he was in a panic at the idea of disappointing you.
“You and I both know Diana’s excited about this trip,” you chuckled as you recalled how her doctor had described his mother’s face lighting up every time she was reminded of the visit. “I’ll go and spend some time with her. Maybe even get her to tell me more embarrassing childhood stories about her perfect boy.”
He lightly laughed at your joke to ease the tension and remorse he was feeling. “I could have told you all of it if you just asked.”
“Well, does it include pictures of you too?” You teased as you were checking in at the counter.
There was a stern voice calling for his name in the background, it was Hotch, you silently guessed. 
“Listen, I have to go. The team is about to give the profile,” he rushed out to inform you. “I’ll see you when we both get back. I love you.” 
The call ended without so much of a chance for you to say it back.
As the plane got ready to take off, your mood continued to further dampen. He promised to go—to you and to his own mother via the phone. An ivy seed of doubt was planted in your mind. Did he try to excuse himself from the case to his boss as some sort of birthday gift? It really didn’t work that way, you knew, with how of a high demand his job is but still, you wondered if his team was informed about the plans for this weekend or were they purposely kept out of the loop. That notion wouldn’t surprise you at the slightest, thinking back. The profilers weren’t even aware of his mother’s state and condition. Hell, they didn’t even know that you existed, a girlfriend of two years, until well into his first year at the BAU. 
Deep down you grasped why he keeps Diana a secret. You were aware of the shame and embarrassment he felt for himself, having had to have her institutionalized by the time he reached the age of eighteen. You got that, didn’t mean you understood it but nonetheless, you respected his decision and was even proud of him for reaching out for professional help no matter how much he viewed that action of his cowardly. But what you weren’t really privy to was really why your relationship was kept in the dark. It could have saved him from Morgan’s incessant ribbing of his inability to pick up women.
During one night where your insecurities got the best of you, you asked in a small voice if he was ashamed of the relationship. He vehemently denied it, repeatedly saying that he just wanted to have a secret solace—a happy home to return to that was untouched by the worst human terrors that he encounters on the daily. That was what you were, he explained, a sunlit luscious reprieve filled with flowers and laughter where he could rest his weary bones from the ravaging, dark waves. His own piece of heaven here on earth. He then kissed your fears away that night, hugged you tight into his chest—the vibrations from his humming lulling you to slumber.
———
“I always knew it would take a special girl to understand my special boy,” Diana mused out loud as you plated a slice of cake for her. 
You blushed, sitting down beside her with your own. “He’s perfect. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” 
She affectionately combed through your hair, similar to how her son would. “Thank you. For visiting and being understanding of his erratic schedule.”
“It’s no problem at all, Diana. I love him, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating.” You stated as the ivy seed of doubt sprouted in your mind—did you really? Did you really understand what you were getting into?
***
The third time, you still tried to understand.
There you were surrounded by the purest celebration of love and matrimony, sans your long-haired, sweater vest wearing plus one. Your brother was getting married to the love of his life, vowing himself to be with her for better, for worse and your other half was in another state catching criminals. Fiddling with the diamond engagement ring adorning your finger, you recalled how you ended up alone, dateless, in this joyous occasion. 
You RSVP’ed with a date when the invitation arrived four months ago. Your brother even calling in to make sure that he, your well-celebrated FBI fiancée, will be able to attend a month before the wedding. You internally scoffed at his repeated checking but in retrospect, maybe he saw the end well before you did. You promised to him, as Spencer did to you, that he’ll be available to watch the union and to save all the slow dances with him. But the day before the wedding, the phone rang for a case in Dallas and you knew what it meant. Without so much of a fight, you kissed him goodbye by the door of his now shared apartment and let the dreary silence enveloped you as you think of how to inform your brother of the new change without hearing the pity and patronization in his voice. 
Nursing a glass of red wine, you watched your brother dance with his newly wedded wife and in your peripheral, you spotted your mother approaching you at the table. 
“Now why are you being such a sourpuss during this festive event?” She chimed out as she pulled a chair beside you. “You should be out there, dancing and getting to know our new extended family.” 
You shrugged, unsure on what to say. She was right, of course. All the guests were enjoying themselves and basking in the warm, infectious glow of the happy couple but you didn’t have the courage in you to mask the despondent emotions inside of you.
Your mother sighed and took your left hand in hers. “You know, when your dad and I were going through the proceedings of the divorce, I had moments when I wanted to back out from it. I loved your father, still holds a piece of my heart till this day, and I thought the small moments of happiness when he was around would be enough to tied me through the days when he wasn’t. I thought those times and our love for you kids were sufficient to keep our love from wilting. If I poured out affection and devotion to the home we once built, it wouldn’t crumble surely. But you know what I forgot—”
You turned to face her somber eyes, looking into yours as if searching for something that seemed to no longer be there. 
“—I forgot to take care of myself. I gave a pieces of me away so willing and so many times that when I reached the end of the marriage, I no longer knew who I was. Where the piece of me started and where it ended. You’re withering, my flower. The vibrant life that I once longed to protect in your eyes is slowly dying. I don’t want you to reach the finish line and not know how you got up there. How you ended up giving all yourself away with not a flower bud left to blossom just for you.” 
You felt your hackles rise to defend the relationship. In hindsight, this was you denying the truth that was staring you right in the face. “It’s not like that with Spencer, Mom. It’s just—the job is hectic and it’s been his forever dream. He had finally started to gain his footing when Gideon and Elle left and then the kidnapping happened and that pushed his progress back a bit. But he’s getting there now. We’re stabilizing and we had a discussion—there’s less broken promises. It’s just that this recent case in Dallas was urgent and they needed the team to solve crime. I don’t want to take him away from the country and the people who needs his help and from his dream of solving crimes. I love him, Mom, in all of his entirety and he deserves all the respect and understanding from me as his partner.” 
She squeezed the hand in hers—the left hand adorning the ring, the material manifestation of his vow to you that you had happily accepted. “I‘ve grown fond of Spencer. I see him as another son of mine but darling, sometimes the love you feel for each other is not enough. A relationship takes continuous work—a task that both individuals must pull in the effort and prioritize. Just think about it,” she stated as she stood up. “Now, no more of this depressing talk and this serious energy from you. Go around, dance with your brother, and enjoy.” 
You mustered up a smile as you proceeded to do just what you were told until your feet were sore from all the dancing. But no matter the joyous occasion, it didn’t stop the realization in the form of ivy from taking roots and slowly covering all corners of your mind. 
***
And the final time, you could no longer understand.
The grandfather clock stationed at the corner of the dimly lit apartment struck at two. Your figure was still dressed in your purple fitted dress as you waited for your soon-to-be other half to walk through the door. It was another night of getting your hopes up and broken promises and you were no longer sure how much you could take before the love you held in your heart festers and turns into resentment. 
You promised yourself you’d never be in a situation that you had seen your mother once be in. You became the careful daughter of a careless man who gave little to no effort to cherish the love a woman had freely given to him. You thought with all your cautiousness and logical thinking, the mistakes of the mother would never be repeated. That was naive thinking—you realized now. By actively being aware of the past, you’d forgotten to look ahead and fell deep into the pitfalls of doing the same as your mother did.
Spencer once mentioned that there was a high divorce rate in his line of duty. How he worried and vowed that you both will never join that rate. And that was a promise he’ll be able to keep, you scoffed to yourself, as you spun the ring on the table.
Another shared piece of information floated to the forefront of your mind. How Haley had recently served Hotch, his unit chief divorce papers. You’ve grown close with her over the years, being the only two constant partners to someone working in the BAU. You’ve seen first hand all the missed milestones in Haley’s and Jack’s life as her husband flew around the country with the cavalry, saving the innocent one case at a time. Never taking the time to realize that the once solid foundation of their marriage was crumbling down with every flight he took. Similar to what was happening in the doctor’s own home. 
A set of keys unlatched the mahogany door and a fresh batch of florals were the first that entered through, followed by Spencer looking sheepish as he noted your presence by the sofa. “Angel, I’m so sorry I missed your promotion dinner.” 
Silence greeted him as he stumbled to get to where you were. “Carnations for you.” 
Tears started to form under your eyes. You didn’t want to break but the reality of your decision was setting in. You wanted to falter, to change your mind, to give him another chance but you knew you couldn’t. You’ve given too much of your understanding away and you doubted you have any more to give to this beautiful man who once promised to make you his top priority. 
“I can’t accept them, Spencer.” 
His eyebrows furrowed and his body tensing as if sensing the finality behind your words. “Why not? They’re your favorite.” 
“They are but—” you took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. “—I think we should stop.” 
“W-what? No. No, please,” he stammered out as his own set of tears started flooding his eyes, blurring you from his vision. “I’m sorry I missed the dinner. I’ll make it up to you—I promise just—”
The dam of your emotions broke causing you to freely sob out all the sadness and anger that had collected in your heart. “I’m tired, Spencer. You can’t promise anything to me anymore. You’ve broken so many promises that you’ll only end up breaking them again.” 
He took your hands into his, letting the bouquet fall crushed on the hardwood floor, recognizing the ring missing in your finger. “This time, this time it’ll be different. Please, don’t leave me.” 
“The country needs you, the BAU needs you. But I need you too, Spencer. I love you, I really do but I can’t be your third priority anymore. I don’t deserve that—don’t I deserve to come first before the country and the job?” 
He tightened his hold on your hands as if afraid that you were slipping through his fingers, denying the reality that you already had. “I love you so much. I don’t want to live without you by my side. Tell me how to fix this. Do you want me to leave the BAU? I’ll—I’ll do it, just stay with me, please.” 
You shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave the FBI. Your ambition and integrity is one of the facets that I loved about you and you might end up resenting me down the line if you leave now. It’s not yet your time to leave the BAU, you and I both know that,” you pulled your hands away and slid the ring in front of him. “This belongs to you, I’m giving it back.” 
His shoulder caved in on itself, the weight of it all too much for him to carry. “I don’t want this to be our end. I just don’t.” 
“I don’t want this too, but I need to,” you whispered as your hand reached out to push shoulder length hair out of the way. “Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe in the future we’d meet again and continue the pages of our love story but for now, I have to do this Spencer. I can’t keep giving a piece of me every time your top priority needs you, I’ll end up hating you if I stay.” 
You leaned in for one final kiss. A salty, tear filled kiss of death to a future you had once envisioned with the beautiful boy before you. A white picket fence with children laughing at the backyard—the American dream fading into nothing as you start to pull away.
“Goodbye for now, Spencer.”
He stared at all the curves and dips in your face one last time as if etching every detail into his already perfect memory.
“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”
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its-flame-art · 8 months ago
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@sophieswundergarten @itsgoghtime - bam you guys are now officially part of my Elathēsia universe!
(close-ups under the cut :D)
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no context…but I would like to know what everyone’s favorite mushroom and/or flower is? thank you :))
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hey-imma-fangirl · 1 month ago
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A drawing Cagney Carnation that I spent way too much time on lmao
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Sorry it’s so pixelated, it was kinda small while I was drawing on my magma lol
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robinsfilm · 3 months ago
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CARNATION LETTERS
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pairing: Jason Todd ✗ gn!reader.
summary: In which Jason, struggling with words, leaves you heartfelt notes hidden in bouquets of carnations, each one revealing more of his feelings for you.
warnings: none, just fluff and the authors poor knowledge of flowers, ++ no proofreading my head hurts way to much for that :⁠-⁠[
word count: 1.2k.
notes: sorry for my inactivity for the past few days. i wasn't feeling so well. though here is the fic idea that won the last vote! i really like this one, i hope you guys will as well. idk ab the color meanings when it comes to carnations, i tried my best here (⁠T⁠T⁠)
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♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION
You’d always heard that love was in the little things—the small, thoughtful gestures that spoke louder than words ever could.
The fleeting touch of a lover on ones back when in a crowd, the shy, stolen glances, the nervous, shaking attempts at holding their hands in ones own.
You think that Jason's love is a garden, carefully tended and nurtured. It started with seeds of trust and affection, growing slowly but steadily with time and care. Like flowers, it bloomed in different seasons, offering sweet gestures to you–the love of his life.
For you, those gestures came in the form of carnations, delicate and vibrant, appearing at the most unexpected times.
Whether it was in the quiet of a morning, the stillness of night, or a surprise that broke the monotony of your day, Jason had a way of making you feel cherished without needing to say a word.
Each bouquet carried with it a note, sometimes playful, sometimes sincere, but always filled with the emotions he found difficult to express otherwise.
And each time you found one, it was as if the world around you paused, allowing you to savor the moment, knowing that Jason’s heart was in every petal.
*****
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep.
On the table, next to your coffee mug, was a small bouquet of carnations tied with a simple ribbon.
As you reached for the note, Jason’s voice interrupted your thoughts. 'Good morning,' he murmured from the doorway, his arms crossed casually, a soft smile on his lips.
'Do you like them?' he asked, watching as you unfolded the note, your heart warming at his thoughtful gesture.
At times like this you felt a feeling so strong and warm envelope your heart, you couldn't speak a word.
'Remember that day we spent in the park? These carnations reminded me of that. Can’t wait to make more memories with you.'
Still holding the bouquet in your hands, your touch would softly graze the petals.
'I love them.' You softly spoke, 'let's go out today, I want to start making even more memories with you.'
*****
A knock at your door broke the quiet of your afternoon. Opening it, you found Jason leaning against the doorframe, a bouquet of carnations in one hand, and a casual smirk on his face.
'I thought you might need a pick-me-up,' he said, passing you the flowers. 'And maybe some company?' You stepped aside to let him in, the familiar warmth of his presence making the day instantly brighter.
Perhaps it was instinct, because as soon as the bouquet was in your hands your eyes started searching for the note. Nestled in the white–red colored petals of the carnations was a small note.
'Your company is always welcomed.' you gave him small smile while opening and reading the note.
'Thought you might need something pretty to look at today, besides me, of course.'
You let out a small chuckle. Jason's smile almost reaches his eyes as he watches you.
'Feeling cheeky, aren't we?' you said, 'I prefer looking at you, though.'
'You're lucky I'm here then, aren't you?' he replies, while taking your hands in his and bringing you closer.
'That I am.'
*****
You were getting ready for bed when you heard a soft knock at your window. Peeking out, you found Jason standing there, a lopsided grin on his face.
'Need some company?' he asked, climbing inside with surprising ease, a bouquet of carnations in hand.
'Couldn't sleep without seeing you first,' he admitted, handing you the flowers.
As you took them, his fingers brushed yours, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
'You're lucky you brought me the flowers, or I wouldn't have let you in.' you teased.
'Using the door is overrated.' he let out a small laugh, teal–green eyes shifting from the flowers to you. He gestured for you to read the note.
'You know, these carnations aren’t half as beautiful as you, but I figured they’d do until I get back.'
You could feel the heat slowly rise to your cheeks after reading the note, a dopey grin covers your face. Damn him and his smart mouth. By the way Jason proudly smiled at you, he probably saw your flustered reaction too.
His heart sings everytime he sees you happy, everytime he manages to make you shy or bold with his gifts. He'll do it all over again, just for you to smile.
*****
You were sorting through old boxes when you found it—a dried bouquet of carnations, carefully preserved. As you held them, Jason walked into the room, noticing the flowers in your hands.
'You kept those?' he asked, a mix of surprise and affection in his voice. 'I didn’t think they’d mean that much to you.'
You looked up at him, the memory of that moment still fresh in your mind. 'They do,' you replied softly, setting the flowers down as he came closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.
'They mean so much to me.' you say softly. 'Every one of them are a reminder of you and your love. They mean as much to me as much as I seek out your love.'
Your words seem to make him speechless. They ring in his mind again and again. The sound of them covers him in a feeling of warmth he can't explain.
So he let's his hand rest on your cheek. It's a small gesture. The calloused feel familiar on your skin. You feel your skin warm up at his touch. You bring your hand to cover his.
No words are needed. Everything said in the small gestures between you and Jason.
The note lays next to the red–pink carnations. The ink dark red dances across the dusty paper.
'You make my world a better place, and I’m so grateful for you.'
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© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.
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tetzoro · 6 days ago
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⟡ — zoro roronoa x reader. fluff. zoro calls reader woman once. kind of a continuation of this. divider by cafekitsune. — WC : 954
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Since a young age, you’ve always been fond of the flowers that grew in your village. Greedy little hands would pluck every single one that caught your eye, tucking it away with you to store in the vase that resided by your bedside or safely nestled them behind your ears.
As you grew older though, your hands stopped itching to reach for them as much, guilt locking your fingertips from picking a flower and ripping it from its home.
That is, until you found ways to preserve the beauty. Such as creating beautiful bouquets for your friends, watching their faces light up with a smile that will forever shine in your memories.
Or quietly reserving the petals of the colors you were sweet on, pressing them between the crinkled pages of your journals to cherish forever.
The beauty was to be shared, to be appreciated. Each flower had a meaning and a story behind it.
“What are you doing?” Zoro gruffs out. Despite the roughness of the question, his eye remains shut, at peace with whatever you were up to.
“Sit still.” You hiss down at him even though he hasn’t made any attempt to flee from you. Many moons ago, he would’ve flinched away from the tenderness of your fingers dancing across his skin, but now he tolerates it. More than that, he’s learned to welcome it, to allow himself to melt under your loving touch.
“‘m not moving, woman.” But the question still lingers in his mind. Your constant picking and prodding at his hair, preening in a way that he’s never known piques his curiosity.
“I’m just playing with your hair.” You’re kneeled beside where he had settled in for his afternoon nap. Next to you lay a pile of various flora that you had gathered from your latest excursion.
Normally, Zoro was the one to gift you a flower from the island and the one that he had given you remains sweetly tucked behind your ear. But you had plucked some of your own this time with a very important mission in mind.
Each one has been delicately plaited into Zoro’s hair, the green serving as a beautiful canvas for a garden of flowers to blossom in. If he truly knew what you were up to, he’d probably swat your hands away and sport a blush that rivals the pink camellia that twirls between your fingertips.
The secrets you plant in the tuft of his hair makes you smile, a language that has yet to be deciphered by the man below you. Each flower held a feeling or a thought that carried the longing that laid within your heart.
Devotion, passion, loyalty, understanding.
One by one you plant the meanings along his head, letting the breeze kiss along the petals and swirl the floral aroma into the whispers of the wind in hopes that he’ll finally hear the gentle call of your love.
“There.” You smile, proud of your work. Dots of color decorate his hair, brightening up the green that lay underneath. Zoro cracks his eye open, peering up at you.
“I know that look.” He squinted, shifting around. His calloused hand flies up to his head before you have time to properly react, pinching onto a white daisy and letting it fall to the palm of his hand. He's quiet for a moment as he studies the plant. “Huh?”
“You like it?” you tease, grinning from ear to ear. He continues to take a few more out, inspecting each of them. “Hey! You’re ruining my hard work.”
He pauses at that, ever the sucker for you. With a heavy sigh, he takes the flowers that lay defensively in his hand and tucks the daisy behind your other ear. And then the rose petals upon your head. And then another, the carnation that compliments the one that he wears like a crown.
“There.” He crossed his arms with a familiar pout on his lips, but the air of acceptance wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Happy now?”
“Very.” The grin that spreads across your face and coats your features in a syrupy sweet joy causes his heart to thump a little quicker in the confines of his chest.
Zoro glimpses at you again from the corner of his sharp eye, his stoic mask cracking under the sunbeam that makes up your smile. The telltale signs of the subtle twitch of his lip, the fondness pooling in his steely iris, his large palm wrapping around your waist all emerge right before he tugs you into his hold.
“When are you going to tell me about the meanings of these things anyway?” He asks as you maneuver into a comfortable position, settling yourself in his lap.
The salty air licks at your face, the warmth of the rays that peek through the clouds seep into your skin and you figure maybe now is a good time to open the floodgates of your heart and let it all pour out into his awaiting hands.
Leaning forward, you swipe your thumb along his bottom lip, soaking up his sharp intake of air before closing the distance between you two.
The gentle kiss blossoms into a graceful dance that showcases all of your shared feelings, tongues tangling to spell out the unshed words that weigh on both of your hearts — I love you.
You’re not sure who pulls away first, foreheads kissing together as your lungs fight to steady themselves against the erratic beat of your hearts.
“Must I tell you things you already know?” You smile, eyes crinkling with affection.
“Yes.” Zoro breathes out, gaze falling back to your lips. “Because the words always sound so sweet coming out of your mouth.”
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angelfoodcake222 · 2 years ago
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& the results are... *peeks over glasses* Florist!
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I was honestly expecting to break out my old psychology books or start researching sweet recipes, but your wonderful lovelies chose something I'm nearly fluent at! Thank you for voting & I'll get the next chapter out ASAP! Bye!
So, I've seen a lot of self-inserts & OCs as stylists, seamstresses & the like, but not a lot of other jobs 🤔. I can't decide what job to give my "The Lesser of Two Evils" [Y/N], so y'all can take your pick here. If I hadn't listed anything or you think a different job would suit you, please comment the career of your choosing below. Please be respectful.
A/N: No, being a character's wife/husband/spouse does not count as a job.
These are all of the useful ones I can think of & what Tumblr will let me post at the moment. Some of these would be an instant route to angst, I know it, but some dark stuff could be hiding in most of these too.
Likes are nice, comments are appreciated, but reblogs are better. Thank you!
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