☆secret gardens in my mind☆

she/her | infj | cabin 3 | hufflepuff

[poetlcver]

My thoughts are haunting me and I have class tomorrow morning, so it make even more anxious

[poetlcver]

I miss my future husband sm

[elainiisms]

watching people trying to argue morality over characters from YELLOWJACKETS is so exhausting PICK your favourite cannibal and BE QUIET

[m11rx]

favorite part of the day

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor talking about Ed Sheeran tonight:

''This is one of my best friends in the world to the point where I feel like he's a second brother of mine.''

(August 15, 2024)

[sugarbunniez444]

hold me

touch me

love me

be the first who ever did

[rahabq]

[luxbunn]

𖦹ׂ 𓈒 🐇

[girlofconstantsorrrow]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[poetlcver]

Atychiphobia (Fear of Failure)

Tw: Anxiety, panic attacks, fair of failure and stage fright, english is not my first language.

Summary: After your last presentation was a failure, you are afraid it will happen again but your boyfriend is there to calm you down.

☆if you are reading this and you have a presentation close I send you all my good wishes and a hug from Remus, everything will be fine<3

I've got this anxious feeling…

Your leg is shaking when the professor announces that your group will be the first to pass in the next class, you feel Remus putting his hand in your leg trying to calm you down, and giving you a soft smile.

You try to focus on sometime else but your thoughts takes you back to that day, that fuckin day when your chest began to ache and your tears blocked your view and you simply ran away leaving the class confused, you didn't know why you felt this way, you always felt nervous during your presentation but it was never that bad until that one.

When the class is over your boyfriend is holding your hand so tight because he knows you so well, and because he always is there no matter what, Remus was the first person to run after you that day, you remember his worried voice when he found you in the bathrooms sobbing so bad and saying that you couldn't breathe.

“Are you okay” he asks

“Yes” No, “Why do you ask?” You say and give him a fake smile.

“Don’t lie to me, you know you can trust me” You know that, you really do, but there is a lump in your throat that prevents you from saying what you feel, you don't want to be a burden more than you already are.

“I’m okay, you know how I get whenever I have a presentation”

“Thtas why I’m asking, I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head” He says sweetly tapping your forehead and giving you that smile that gets you drunk.

You smile but don't say anything else and just squeeze his hand tighter, he looks at you worried but keeps walking not wanting to push you.

When you get to his room you are lucky that none of their friends are in there, you lie down on his bed and let out a groan.

“It wasn't even supposed to happen this week, the date was set for two weeks from now, but no, now I have to do it tomorrow and humiliate myself again” You know he was waiting for this moment, no matter how much you try to keep things to yourself, there is always something that makes you end up doing it anyway.

“Somehow all the professors found out what happened and tomorrow he will give me the typical speech that if you studied you shouldn't feel so nervous, but no matter if I study I will still fail as always, I’m a failure” Your eyes are closed but you feel the bed sinking in next to you.

“Don't talk about my girlfriend that way, she's the smartest person I've ever met”

“I’m not smart”

“Yes you are, do I have to remind you that after what happened you still came back and finishe your presentation?”

“I couldn't even speak well, I just wanted a good grade”

“But you did it, you stood up there and did your best as you always do, you have to stop focusing on everything wrong and start looking at what you do right, which is too many things. Look at me honey” You raise your eyes and lose yourself in his gaze and his words.

“You are so talented and it hurts me to know that you see yourself as a failure, you give everything you have to achieve what you want and sometimes you go too far, you will never be a failure because you try, no matter what happens you always wipe your tears and do it again and if you didn't try it would be ok too, there are things that are not for us but there will always be something waiting for us with the door open, but sometimes it's good enough to be good, you don't have to be great all the time” You look at him with tears in your eyes and hug him tightly.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Being you is enough”

But it goes away for a minute when I'm with you, breathing.

[kosmogrl]

[cardsharksplayingames]

Relationships should be 50/50. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle

[kissesfromkiki]

long day

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

word count: once again i have no clue (slightly edited)

summary: y/n has a long day at work and conrad takes care of her. aged up, out of college, living adult life.

You finally reach your apartment door and briefly lean against the frame to take a few deep breaths.

You raise your your hand and gently knock, waiting for your boyfriend to come open the door.

A muffled, “One second,” Comes through the door followed by the sound of his footsteps.

The door swings open and you smile in relief at the sight of Conrad.

“Y/n? Did you lose-” You don’t let him finish his question before basically flings yourself into his arms.

Your arms wrap around his body and inhale his scent. You feel your body sag in the relief of being home.

Conrad’s hands grab your face and tilts your head back so he can look you over.

“Y/n?” His brows furrow as his frown deepens, “Are you okay?”

You let your head fall against his chest once again, “I’m just so exhausted.”

“You’ve worked a ten before? What was different this time?” Conrad leads you into your shared bedroom

“It was just draining you know, like mentally and socially. I haven’t felt this way in so long it kind of threw me for a loop.” You flop backwards onto the bed.

“No, no, no, no,” Conrad leans forwards to grab your hands and pull you back up. “Let me draw you a bath and take care of you Y/n.”

“Nooo,” You whine, “I just want to sleep.”

“I know you do baby, but you always hate when you wake up and still smell like work and haven’t washed the day away.”

You groan, “I hate when you’re right.”

Conrad chuckles, “I know you do. Now I’m going to run you a bath and you can get undressed.”

“Thank you,” You gently tug him down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “For always knowing what I need and how to take care of me.”

“Of course.” He places one more kiss to your lips before heading off to the bathroom.

You change out of your sweaty work clothes and into your favorite cozy robe and find your own way into the bathroom.

When you enter the bathroom you begin to tear up. The bathtub is currently being filled with hot water and bubbles as Conrad sits on the edge testing the water with his hand. The lighting has been dimmed and there’s a few candles have been lit filling the room with a soothing aroma.

Conrad turns around at the sound of your footsteps and smiles until he notices the tears.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He gets up hurriedly and rushes to your side.

You smile fondly, “Nothing at all, this is just really nice. I really need this. Thank you so much.”

He brings a hand up to stroke your cheek, “I love doing nice things for you.”

“And I love you.” You tilt your head up and give Conrad a slow kiss.

He smiles against your lips, “I love you,” He pulls back slightly to look in your eyes. “Go enjoy your bath now.”

“Okay I am, one last kiss.” You giggle and give him a quick kiss before making your way over to the tub.

You sink into the water and feel as the heat begins to ease the tension in your muscles. You let your head fall back against the rim of the tub and exhale a deep sigh of relief.

You’ve been in the bath long enough that the water has gone from hot, to luke warm, to cool.

Conrad comes back into the bathroom and watches your face for a minute as he enjoys the view of you fully relaxed.

“Alright Y/n, time to get out.”

You hazily blink open your eyes to look at him, “If you insist.”

Conrad walks over to the edge and holds up your robe for you to get into.

You stand up and step out of the tub slipping your arms into the sleeves of your robe.

He leads you back into the bedroom, where he’s already laid out a fresh change of clothes for you and pulled back the covers on your shared bed.

You change into the pair of clean sweats and one of Conrad’s old Stanford t-shirts. And then climb into the bed.

“Feeling better baby?” Conrad’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Much.” You smile blissfully, snuggling into the pillow.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me yet, I have one more surprise for you.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“No such thing. I’ll be right back”

You hear Conrad leave the room and his footfalls around your apartment. A few minutes later you hear him return.

“I ordered you dinner from your favorite restaurant while you were in the bath.”

“Con, come here.”

He slowly approaches your side of the bed, softly smiling down at you.

“Set down the food.”

The crinkle of the bag being set down.

“Kiss me.”

Conrad leans down and meets your lips. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you savor the kiss. You tug him down onto the bed with you and you both laugh.

“Thank you Conrad, I really needed this. Today was just so…. overwhelming? I’m just so worn out, physically, mentally, emotionally. I just need to turn off my brain for sometime and sleep for like twelve hours.”

“I can get behind that. Stay in bed for hours, with just you, and no distractions.”

“That sounds perfect.” You say quietly already feeling sleepy.

Conrad readjusts himself under the covers and pulls you to his side.

“I’ll put on your favorite show and we can drift off.”

“I love you.” You lean up to give him an another kiss before nuzzling into his neck.

“I love you.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, “Goodnight.” You mumble into him.

a/n: a quick piece inspired by my own day at work.

masterlist

TAGLIST: @hannie-squirrel00 @jackierose902109 @watercolorskky @kcd15 @laurasdrey

[poetlcver]

I want a Conrad in my life

[poetlcver]

To be a girl is to fall in love with a boy you've only seen once, dream about him for weeks and then forget about him.

[taylorswift]

All’s fair in love and poetry… New album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. Out April 19 🤍

store.taylorswift.com

📷: Beth Garrabrant

[poetlcver]

I just finished yellowjackets and I need more and also I was thinking that when Javi died instead of Natalie was "it" protecting her, so when Natalie died instead of Shauna was "it" protecting her?

my mind is saturated with questions.

I NEED MORE YELLOWJACKETS