#I got a lot of pothos vines...

[toerrishumansodontbeone]

This bitch is crazy. Went from a full tree of dozens of beautiful colorful leaves down to ONE SINGLE LEAF STILL HANGING ON, and decided its gonna try again. In the middle of winter.

At some point it got root rot and I repotted it(yea that pot was definitely too big for it, yknow how amateurs are w their aspirational big pots), but after a while it started declining again and just wouldnt stop drying up n dying. I lost a couple of the tree trunks to it, the third short one is dead too Im pretty sure. I was just waiting for it to die on its own, cus it feels bad just tossing em out when theyre still alive...

Now all the ends are turning green and theres new little growths forming along the trunks.

[moonstruckme]

Hiii! Maybe you can write something with reader having like 20 plants in her dorm. Like a plant mom!

Thanks for requesting :)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

“This isn’t gonna work,” you scold, nudging the spout of your watering can carefully between leaves to the center of the pot. “I gave you the prime sun spot, and you’re still gonna wilt on me? That’s just ungrateful, Phin.” 

There’s a knock on the door, and do a once-over of your room before going to meet Eddie at the door. He’d let you know he’d be coming by to pick up the flannel he’d lent you the other night (you’re disappointed you don’t get to keep it, though you haven’t let him know that), but he hasn’t been in your dorm before; you always wait outside when he’s supposed to be picking you up. Thankfully, you’d remembered to put away the folded laundry on your bed, and your space is looking decently tidy. 

“Hey.” Your grin is already in place as you open the door, your dopamine centers responding to Eddie’s presence the same as they respond to the aroma of cookies in the oven or your favorite song coming on the radio. 

“Hey, you.” Eddie’s smiling too, peering around you to see into your room. “Who’re you talking to?”

“No one.” You open the door all the way to show him, and Eddie’s eyes go wide enough to show white all the way around his irises. “Just Phin.” 

“You…you have a fucking jungle in here.” Eddie’s gawping, seeming unable to focus on any one plant as his gaze skims your room. You suppose it probably would look like a bit much if you weren’t used to it. You’ve got greenery lining your windowsill, pots taking up half your desk, vines drooping down from your shelves. You’ve had to put a few on the floor too, since the only other surfaces in the room don’t get enough sun. All in all, it’s a lot of green in not a ton of space. Eddie seems at a loss for words, but then his eyebrows twitch towards each other and he blinks. “Wait, who’s Phin?”

“Phineas,” you explain, gently touching the leaf of your baby pothos. You’d propagated him from a giant one you’ve had for years, but he’s struggling a bit as he roots in his new soil. 

Eddie’s looking at you like you’re a marvel now too. “They have names? You talk to them?”

“Of course they have names. And talking is supposed to help them grow.” You soften your voice just slightly, throwing a cautious look at Dorothy over on your shelf. “Though I sometimes wonder if some of them are more introverted than others. Some of my spider plants don’t seem to appreciate it.” 

Eddie grins in that familiar toothy way that makes you wonder if he’s going to tease you, but his voice is warm and sweet as honeyed tea when he says, “Well shit, sweetheart, I didn’t know I was coming over to meet so many of your friends. I would’ve dressed better.” 

You laugh, gesturing for him to follow as you go sit on your bed. “I wouldn’t worry about it, I don’t think they can even tell us apart. Which is a shame, because I devote so much care to them and they wouldn’t know me from Adam, but oh well.” You let your gaze skim over Eddie as he gets comfy beside you, laying down on his side and propping one head on his hand. He’s got on another flannel, under which is a Black Sabbath t-shirt. His jeans are faded, with a stain that looks suspiciously like chocolate just above the knee, and his hair is taking well to the lack of humidity in the chilly season, curls bouncy and defined. “You look nice anyway, so.” 

Little lines spread like cartoonish rays of sunshine from the outer corners of Eddie’s eyes. “Daww, thanks, sweet thing. Sure you’re not just buttering me up so you can keep my shirt?”

You look to where you’ve left it, washed and folded primly on your desk. “I’m not,” you promise wistfully, “but…if that would work on you, I can start.” 

Eddie takes your hand and begins tracing the lines of your palm absentmindedly. “You can have it. I mostly just wanted to see you. And I got to meet the roommates, so double bonus.” Your heart swells like a hot air balloon, big and warm and buoyant in your chest. Eddie turns your hand over, stroking gently at the skin below your knuckle. “What happened here?”

You lean over to see, laying down next to him with your shoulder pressed against his bicep as he runs his thumb over a tiny cut on your middle finger. “Oh, that was Willie.” You nod towards the cactus on the edge of your desk. “He scraped me while I was moving him to a bigger pot.” 

Eddie glares in the cactus’ direction. “Little fucker,” he grumbles, kissing your finger lightly. “You can’t let these guys push you around, babe. You’re too good, you’ll take care of them no matter what. I think I’m gonna have to start coming around more to lay down the law.” 

You don’t think of your plants as nearly so villainous as Eddie paints them, but you’re not going to argue against his being in your room more often. You tilt your head until it hits his shoulder. “If you think so,” you say noncommittally. 

“I do,” he confirms, turning your hand back over and bringing it to lay on his chest, both of his clasped over it protectively. “You’re my best girl, you know? I can’t let you be bullied by a bunch of leafy assholes.”

“They’re generally nice to me.” You smile against his shoulder, and Eddie’s kiss is a gentle pressure on the top of your head. 

“For now, sweetheart, but they’ve got you surrounded. Think I’d better stick around for a while, just to keep an eye on things.”

[skele-bunny]

could we still get some Dahlia thoughts even tho she didnt win the poll? (also, I tried finding the fic for her yesterday but I cant find it, do you have a link for it?)

I got so excited seeing this it went straight to the front of the queue wjskkx LMAO. Dahlia hasn't been posted yet :3 obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul

Dahlia was the oops baby of Swissalps. Swiss didn't even have ANY idea he was knocked up until he was 12 weeks. They had just gotten back from tour and Mountain had been BEGGING him to get checked out as obviously this wasn't a normal cold picked up from humans.

When he found out he just... Kinda paled. Him? Knocked up? There's no way in hell. Do another test... No, that one can't be right either. There's NO way! Ohh, but yes way. He ended up walking back to the den in a daze, finding Mountain and talking to him about the results. They talked for HOURS. Mountain completely neutral on any choice Swiss wanted, Swiss at a loss of what to do.

Laying cuddled up that night before he finally whispered he wanted to keep it. "Then we'll keep them... If in the end, we don't want them, we'll talk to the delivery team, okay?" Mountain nuzzling down on Swiss' neck. "Okay..."

They told the others pretty quickly, getting excited and supportive reactions! Papa even sat them down and had an equally long discussion about how they'd move forward for tours, etc! He was happy to start arranging accomodations and care, even saying how he'll start getting things for a nursery if that's what they wanted (they ended up asking him to wait a bit on that.)

You'd think Swiss was an earth ghoul from how frequent he got flowers in his hair, but they very much copied what he was feeling. Lilies when he was upset, roses when Mountain or someone did something really nice for him, or dead flowers when he wasn't feeling well or just in a bad depression rut.

One time he got mad at Cirrus for some reason, and as she went to follow him in the room, vines shot out from a nearby pothos they kept and completely closed off the entry. After that, it wasn't uncommon for vines to be covering Swiss like a cocoon when he wanted to be left alone or felt like he was in danger.

When he finally had their little daughter? Oh she was perfect in every way. Honestly looked a lot more like Swiss minus the hooves and her horns matching Mountain's. She loved chewing on her hooves a lot, biggest gummy smile ever, chewing on Swiss' braid.

Her name is Dahlia, and literally has the WORST bambi legs. Despite this, she's always had a knack for sports especially (American) soccer. Even as a kit would squeal watching the children of sin playing, or when they'd turn it to the American channel. When she was able to get leg braces? PHEW it was done for.

Just super loud, "Dad! Think fast!" And kick it towards Mountain, only to completely miss and break the window. "Oops..."

[pancakeke]

spent a couple hours potting/repotting/rearranging plants today but did not get everything done. I need a couple more 6 and 8 inch pots plus some more wall hardware cause space is at a damn premium. also I got new stakes for both monstera deliciosa pots and a new 8 foot pole for the mini monstera to replace the two 6 foot poles it has that are strapped together.

I meant to take a lot of cuttings today but only got my pilea done. there's a pot somewhere in this photo that's exclusively pilea stumps. the cuttings are on the right side of the lowest shelf.

all the rooted mini monstera cuttings were potted which was like 4 pots holding multiple plants. and that's on top of the one huge mini monstera on the pole in this pic (that needs to be chopped in half tomorrow and turned into more cuttings) and a second plant on the other wall... I gotta find homes for these things before I'm living in a bamboo forest of mini monstera.

additional work on tomorrow's docket: the ridiculously long and leggy shingle vines need to repotted and propagated, all neon pothos propagations need to be consolidated into ONE pot, I gotta rehab the monstera adansonii (other wall) by cutting it to bits and putting those bits in a moss box, and lastly I need to bite the bullet and try to chop and prop my nepenthes which hit the top of its terrarium like 6 new leaves ago. once everything is done the grow light situation needs to be reassessed. that will expensive to update I bet ☹️

[cosyefficient]

Indoor Plant Guide

All indoor house plants like some morning bright sun on them, warm soil and TO BE LEFT ALONE AND IN PEACE. They need to be watered, fertilized and, repotted of course, but perhaps less than you think. No plant can survive with 0 sunlight. If you have no windows in your indoor space that you wanna add plants to, I suggest getting grow lights or doing fake plants.

Here is a list I'm working on about indoor house plants; Short, Sweet, Straight-forward.

The plants that go on this list are my personal faves and I recommend. If you have any questions about any of these please let me know about it in the comments. I will be adding and changing the order of these as I see fit.

------------------------------------------------------------

#1 Pothos

Super easy to grow. Grows vines, you can spread them onto a wall or have them hanging from somewhere up above. Doesn't need lots of direct sunlight. Easy to propagate. Loves to grow big roots in water, water loving plant in general. Don't worry about drowning it (if the pot has drainage. Can tolerate some draught too. Can tolerate darker and colder places. Best plant to start with if you're new to plants. There's many different looks for pothos, there are variegated types with pretty patterns on the leaves for those of you who are into that. -----------------------------------------------------------

#2 PEACE LILYYYYY <3

I found one some years ago IN THE TRASH at the apartment complex we lived in. There were no leaves only stubs :( The soil and roots were so moldy, poor thing. I cleaned her up and now it's one of my biggest plants and it is so lush! Flowers these white rubber flowers that last a real long time. Loves the sun. Can tolerate not having direct sun (might grow slow tho). Prefers a wide bowl-like pot. Loves chugging water every once in a while. Can't do under 4°C, cell walls burst. Loves when people look at her and brush past. Bouncy big leaves. Nice, cool plant. 10/10.

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#3 String of Hearts

Grows quickly, likes direct sunlight. Cute skinny vines, looks like little wires with heart shaped leaves. Maybe not for beginners but it isn't very difficult to grow. Easy to propagate in water: Cup with water + A sunny windowsill + Some time undisturbed = Roots and new growth. Got mine for valentine's day for my boyfie (it was actually 4 me).

----------------------------------------------------------- #4 Snake Plant

Sometimes I see these in dark natural light conditions and I'm always amazed at how they can still grow. They can sure take a beating too. (I'm thinking of the countless mall snake plant containers I have seen along the years. Broken pieces, under a ceilings with no skylights or nearby windows.) I have one that is really long and I have to stalk it up or else it flops over. Maybe it's just the kind I have.

#5 Banana Tree

Ok, hear me out. - Big leaf - Vibes - Sculptural - Tropical - Birds of paradise dupe

I have a red banana type in a big black bin (tall round trash bin I drilled some holes underneath). Gotta cut down the leaves some times. Stems are full of water. Likes lots of sun so has to be near a sunny window. Can get real big. It's a tree afterall. No bananas.

[laserbitch]

15 questions 4 15 mutuals thingy?? tagged by @swugie !

1. Are you named after anyone?

i named myself after christina aguilera :)))

2. When was the last time you cried?

a few days ago over my cat pancho… sigh… r.i.p. little buddy

3. Do you have kids?

no but i have kits 🐈🐈🐈🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

yes i think people find me offputting .______.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

honestly their hair. my gf has me stylist pilled now lol i can’t unsee when someone has a shoe polish dye job

6. What’s your eye color?

that type of deep brown that looks syrupy in the sun 😏

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

ok a scary movie can still have a happy ending is all i’m gonna say (i do love gore though)

8. Any special talents?

photography, interior decorating via ocd, driving weirdly enough, being autistically into music (especially by having encyclopedic knowledge of 2006-2012 mallcore bands), and lastly: eating pussy

9. Where were you born?

maybe dm me about this one!

10. What are your hobbies?

i’ve been getting really into gardening this year :3 i got a big ass pothos vining all over the kitchen and a little farm that’s coming along nicely… i literally can’t stop potatoes from growing. they’re everywhere! and if all goes well, i’ll have a big ass pumpkin patch in time for halloween 🎃

11. Have any pets?

7 cats at the moment. my girlfriend and i run a rescue operation of sorts so the number changes often. right now it’s two himalayan/torties named fincher and sugar. sugar only has half a tail. then there’s a russian blue named cinder, he was found at a gas station in new mexico with two other kittens. there’s half-stache, a bit of a long-haired tuxedo with half a mustache as a facial marking. and then there’s thomas, frederick, and june - all tabbies. thomas pissed on my ps3 last week but he’s still very cute.

12. What sports do you play?

not particularly good at anything but i love shooting hoops. honestly tennis is pretty fun too. gotta get more active this summer for sure

13. How tall are you ?

5’9”

14. Favorite subject in school?

looove writing courses but curiously enough can never focus enough to read. something something mental disorders

15. Dream job?

i do not dream of labor but it would be cool if i could keep making more and more money off of my photography so i can continue the lifestyle i have rn. idc about being loaded i just wanna live a modest life at home and occasionally do drugs with my friends lol

tagging @denyjesuschrist @stroebe2 @extradimensionaldream @beachpunc @awesomgrlgr8job @robloxmilf @bichopalo @hog-choker @kristina100000 @merriweatherpostpaviliontshirt @sexhaver @mazzystargirl @sacredstem @eatware @demegoddess lol …. preemptive sorries for this

[milkconfetti]

something i think about a lot is back when i first got into plants, i saw a post on reddit complaining how it was annoying that a coworker saw op's neon pothos at their desk, got excited, and asked if they'd share a cutting. and this irritated op apparently because "neon pothos aren't even expensive anymore so why couldn't they just buy their own" and "it had taken them a long time to get their plant to be so big" because i genuinely cannot fathom that way of thinking

maybe it's because i'm a hermit but having someone compliment one of my vining/easily prop-able plants would be like a dream come true i would love to pile cuttings onto someone lmao

[leavesandstrings]

saved a pothos from the trash <3

i'm super excited about my new pothos props! i went to a smoothie place with a friend from ballet class when i saw an employee pruning the plants on display. they started to throw away these long pothos vines with scattered growth but i asked if i could take them instead :D i walked home with these long vines tucked inside my jacket to keep them from getting cold.

when i got home i started chopping away! for all the nodes with a leaf, i just popped them in water. i find that to be the easiest way to propagate, but if there are no leaves i'll propagate them in perlite or sphagnum moss. since these were such long vines, i had a lot of cuttings!

i took a bunch of pictures of the water propagations so i can track their daily growth :) will report back when they're ready to be potted

[microsuedemouse]

15, 16, and 39? <3

Hi hi I didn’t see this last night until I was going to bed, my apologies! But I did not forget you, do not worry

15. Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

I do!! And most of them have names haha. I worked at a garden centre for a couple years and acquired many plant friends! Okay hang on a sec there’s

Perseus (or Percy) the snake plant, who is my oldest plant; my best friend bought him for me when I was living in a basement room

Andromeda (or Andy) the bird’s nest snake plant

Lali the Chinese evergreen (colour variant: red emerald - she’s very pretty)

D’Artagnan the zz plant

Aramis the arrowhead vine

(if you’re wondering. I did have a couple pothos named Athos and Porthos, but they did not survive our move in 2020)

Raja the rubber plant

Philomena the hope philodendron

Farsen the Norfolk Pine

Drake the monstera

Diesel the dieffenbachia (aka dumb cane)

And Lucky the false shamrock - my newest addition! I’ve had a couple of false shamrocks before, but they never lasted long bc I didn’t have enough sun. I have a MUCH better light situation in my current house though, and I love these guys, so when the grocery store I work at got them in this past spring, I couldn’t resist bringing one home :)

Also, technically, Pembe the arrowhead vine. I recently repotted his roots after trimming off his stems/leaves because they were all dying?? The roots looked healthy enough to POSSIBLY recover but I can’t tell yet whether he’ll pull through or not!

As a fun aside, this ask made me pull out my old planting journal - which I haven’t touched in aaaages - to remember a couple of the species names, and I’ve discovered that I’ve had Perseus since Christmas of 2016?? Oh my god he’s nine years old. I’m getting emotional 😭 I also learned that I apparently never got around to logging Diesel, and it took some creative googling to figure out what he was lmao

Anyway. I love plants :)) I am not a super attentive plant carer though, so I’m not cut out for the finicky ones - they gotta be at least a little tough haha. I am a big believer in snake plants in particular for this

16. Describe your favourite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

Oooough, that’s hard… I have so many favourites ehehe. That said, one of my main go-tos is this gorgeous moth hoodie that I got summer of last year from an artist called xinophin, when they were (tragically!) closing their online shop.

I love it to death. The design and colour are stunning, and the fabric is incredibly soft and thick - it washes AMAZINGLY. I also bought I think a… 4X? for maximum oversized coziness. I have a LOT of hoodies I absolutely love, but the colour and size and comfort level of this one are a hard combo to beat, so it’s been a favourite lately as the temperatures drop again.

39. What was the best part of your day today?

This question is very cute, I wish I had something more exciting to say haha—

Yesterday (when you sent this ask) AND today I think the best parts of my day have been writing! Veronica Mars has truly done insane things to my brain and blasted my writer’s block into particles too fine to be seen with the naked eye. given how little I’ve been writing for most of this year, it’s such a fucking blessing - I feel so, so good, writing this much. This morning I was catching up on my word count log and discovered that I’ve written over 50k words in the last two weeks 😱 I would love to see that translate into being able to get more work done on my original projects as well, but for now I’ll take what I can get and ride this high!!

[jensownzoo]

Got the Boston ferns tidied and potted up.

They look scraggly here but there are a lot of new baby fronds pushing up at the margins (which is why I gave them some more room) so they'll fill out enough for a free plant soon. One not pictured is hanging from the shower rod because I only had hanging hardware for one of the pots. I checked a book out from the library about plant hanger macrame so I'll remedy that shortly.

About twoish weeks ago I picked up a grocery sack full of pothos vines, trimmed them into 6" lengths, and rooted them in water. So today I potted them up in unused metal ikea pots I picked up (next to a dumpster) on the same trip. I love pothos; they'll root so easily.

They're mostly just stems now but new leaves are already pushing out of the nodes. They'll hang out here until they start Vining and then they're going on top of a bookcase.

And while I was walking home from getting that macrame book from the library I saw two huge healthy spent mums in the green waste dumpster and hauled them home too.

They're about 18" across and heavy with the rain we had earlier in the week. I'll trim off the spent flowers and get them in the ground to overwinter in one of my raised beds this weekend. I think they may be white? It's difficult to tell.

I have to go back to the library Sundsy so we'll see if I come home with anything else as people continue to tidy up their yards.

Today in free plants I pulled from the green waste dumpsters:

Three Boston ferns who just need some dead stems trimmed away and one other hanging plant that has tiny petunia-like flowers (pink and purple) but I don't know what it is (I'll make an effort if it lives, it was pretty dried out).

Also:

A bareroot variegated snake plant. I potted it up already and it should make it as these are pretty hardy.

The Boston ferns will probably live in the bathroom over the winter once I get them tidied up. The pseudopetunia may hang outside until frost kills it, we'll see if I have any room to overwinter. The snake plant has been put in the front room until it reroots itself and then will likely go in a bedroom.

[buckets-and-trees]

Steve and the Ballet

Characters/Pairings: Steve x Reader Word Count: 1,692 Summary: You are in for a very different Saturday with Steve.

Warnings: None

Additional Notes: THIS WAS A DRABBLE SERIES! Intended every piece to be 1k or less, a couple have crept up past that, but this one got away from me and my intentions! Because…well, because. I didn’t want to cut even any more small pieces from this episode. Next bit in the Steve vein of The Brooklyn Boys series.

The warm kiss of the sun on your cheek is the first thing you register waking up. You stretch one arm above your head, the tips of your fingers playing with the leaves from the pothos vines spilling down from the shelf above your bed while your other hand pushes your light-blocking eye mask off your face. You roll to the side of your bed and reach for your phone. It’s Saturday morning, a little before nine. Steve has usually texted you by now with whatever suggestion he has for the day, but there’s nothing from him yet.

You try and tamper down your thoughts before getting carried away.

He’s so fantastically old-fashioned when it comes to communicating that you would have assumed he would tell you if he were planning not to have plans with you today…

But he’s also Captain America. He could be called off to any part of the world at any moment, and it was honestly remarkable he’d been free every Saturday since you’d met now that you think about it.

Email has been checked, and you’re just starting a leisurely morning scroll through Instagram when the text notification appears on screen and your heart leaps.

STEVE: I know it’s not our usual, but I have tickets to the ballet tonight at 8. Meet me at Lincoln Center at 7:30?

You bite your lip. It is decidedly not your usual. Our usual he said – you like that. But what does this mean exactly? You didn’t peg him for a ballet guy, but you would peg him for the kind of guy to take a girl to the ballet for something like a real date. Then again, if it was supposed to be more like a date, wouldn’t he suggest dinner first? Or want to pick you up?

It probably wasn’t a date. Your other Saturdays hadn’t been dates. The two of you didn’t text throughout the week either. He would text more if he saw more between you. Except he didn’t seem one for a lot of texting, period. That was normal. You’d dated other men who weren’t big texters – not all of those relationships were winners, but a couple of the good and decent ones just weren’t that connected to their phones, and that wouldn’t surprise you about Steve. The Saturdays you had spent together were largely tech free for you both.

Your phone buzzes again, jolting you out of your thoughts.

STEVE: Unless you’re busy tonight? I should have asked earlier instead of assuming your Saturday night would be free.

You grin.

YOU: I’ll forgive your faux pas this time because, luckily for you, I am free. See you there.

After determining you have nothing to wear to the ballet, you quickly throw on something decent enough to go out shopping in, buzz through three different shops before discovering and deciding on a tasteful black dress that you instantly in love with. You drop in to get a manicure and pedicure at your go-to salon two blocks from your apartment. Having a fully free Saturday turning out to be a blessing and a curse as it affords you time to get ready for a night at the ballet, but also a full day to think about almost nothing else except the night ahead of you at the ballet with Steve.

Though you’d been out most of the day, you made sure you had enough time to shower, scrub, shave, wax, and buff everywhere. You riffle through your fridge for a quick dinner, which you eat in the cute silk robe you got from being part of a bridal party two years ago (one where the bride wanted those pre-wedding photos of all her bride squad getting ready together in matching silk robes). After satisfying your stomach, you spend too much time on your make-up and hair to end up with a look that’s only a shade more dramatic than your usual, but you also don’t want to go over the top when you’re still not sure whether it’s a date. Finally, you slip into your dress and some of your best heels – the ones that still look good but don’t kill your feet. You keep the jewelry simple – pearl necklace and earrings – and finish with a small gold watch that had been your grandmother’s, smiling until you see the time, and then frown and dash for your phone to summon an Uber. Before dinner you were doing good on time, but now you’re probably going to be late. Not late for the ballet, but late for the time you’re supposed to meet Steve.

At 7:25 your driver is not far from Lincoln Center, but your estimated arrival is not for another fifteen minutes. You send a text to Steve, apologizing and giving him your ETA.

STEVE: Don’t stress about it in the slightest. I’ll see you when you get here.

He also shares his location with you, which will make it easy to find him once you arrive.

He didn’t choose the option to share his current location only or to share for one hour or until the end of the day either – he hit ‘share indefinitely,’ which makes you grin. That’s a lot of access.

Friends or more? Could go either way. Also could have been an accident. For the hundredth time today, you tell your brain to put on the brakes and stop launching scores of different trains of thought out of the station.

When you finally arrive, you see Steve before he sees you, and though you were a little breathless trying to rush to meet him and make up for being late, you stop for a moment because the sight of him, side profile in a very sharp suit, steals your breath away.

Or you thought it did.

Because since he senses someone looking at him from across the lobby, and he turns to look your way, and when he sees it’s you, he smiles, and then your breath truly stops. He quickly makes his way over to you.

“I finally made it!”

“You look stunning,” he says, stepping close in the din of people milling about – hundreds of others meeting people and mingling and making their way to the theater.

“Sorry again for being late,” you say.

He shakes his head. “No, we have more than enough time.”

“I know, but – “

He stops you with a low murmur of your name and placing his hand on your shoulder. “You’re here now.”

It’s nice having to stand this close in the crowd, and you’re caught looking into his warm blue eyes. That look and the warmth of his hand melt away your annoyance and nerves from running late. You’re truly in the moment now, and it’s almost like any of your other Saturdays with him.

He finally says, “Our seats are this way,” and turns slightly. His hand moves down your shoulder to your elbow, and then brushes back to rest lightly at the small of your back as he gently maneuvers you through the thick part of the crowd in the lobby. When you get to the first usher, he removes his hand so he can get your tickets out to show them to move into the theater.

You don’t hold hands but your shoulders touch often as you each turn to talk with one another before the show and during the intermission of the production of Sleeping Beauty. The dancers of the New York City Ballet are world renowned for a reason, you’ve always loved Tchaikovsky, and everything with the beautiful production ultimately stirs a few tears in your eyes for how powerful a performance it is near the end. Steve leans close, shoulder touching yours again, to offer his handkerchief. All of it is close, intimate, sharing this experience together in the theater tonight. You’ve been to movies and plays and performances on dates before, but you know the difference between when it feels connected and when it doesn’t. This does.

Right as the performance ends, you turn heads to look at each other, a soft smile on your face, but a slightly strained smile on his. He speaks immediately though.

“It’s getting late, but I wondered if you’d want to go get something to eat?”

“Always,” you say, smile turning to a grin, and you see the tension release from his face with your response. Your chest feels warm seeing that smile

You take a cab to a diner in easy walking distance from your apartment – as always Steve has done his homework. Each of you order a plate of pancakes, and the conversation is easy as it always is. You love being in this casual place – a place you’ve been to plenty – in a cozy booth sitting across from Steve, both of you dressed up, late at night. You will remember this. And not just because he looks so good, so handsome, so real in this moment it makes your heart want to burst out of your chest. You talk and laugh. You bat his fork away as he tries to steal a bite from your plate.

By the time you leave the diner, the heat of the day has burned off, and it’s just a touch on the cool side, cool enough that Steve shrugs his suit coat off and offers it to you, and you nod and let him drape it over your shoulders. Your conversation continues as you walk side by side to your apartment.

“This is me,” you state simply.

“I’ll say goodnight then.”

You slip off his coat. “I had a really, really nice time, Steve.”

He drops his gaze for a moment, taking the coat back from you, an easy smile on his face. “We should do this again.”

“Yes.”

You wait, holding your breath.

Steve leans in close and gently kisses you on the cheek. You feel heat blooming there where his lips brushed, and it blossoms in your core as well.

“Goodnight,” he says.

“Goodnight.”

You go to sleep with certainty. That was a date.

You wake up and are certain you are in so much trouble.  

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[seancekitsch]

Requesting for a nervous but willing Hughie getting smooched, felt up, and eventually pegged/banged by the reader in order to get some intel.

unedited and i got carried away !!

It felt good, all of the kissing, the groping, the mindlessness of it all. He had played his cards right, flirting with the plant powered supe at an event for Vought to try to regain its good name. There was a carnival, a beer garden, live music, and you. A newbie, not unlike Annie, which is why she herself suggested the woman to be Hughie’s target.

The woman rocked back on top of him, coming apart from their kiss. Every time she rolls her hips, Hughie feels like he needs a cold shower. He’s never been with a woman so domineering, so willing to take.

It wasn’t hard to get to this point, at your apartment in Vought’s secondary housing for their extra supes. ‘The spares and unwanteds’ as Annie and now you had both mentioned, in that exact phrasing. He recognizes it as a clear Homelander-ism. He flirted, in his opinion poorly, but you hung onto every word. And you weren’t hard to flirt with; you were funny, gorgeous, and you had enough in common that he could have easily seen himself swiping right on you on Tinder in a normal circumstance. You seemed bored of the little PR stunt, and bluntly asked him to come back to your place, as simply as that. You grope at his sides, letting him squirm under you as you dive back in to kiss and suck at his neck.

“Wanna take this to the next level, pretty boy?” you whisper against his neck, and he hesitates, only for a moment.

And then you’re immediately climbing off his lap, and he thinks he’s immediately fucked this up. If he can’t get this intel, if you tell him to leave, he might run out of time. There have been so many moving pieces at Vought, so many new developments that—

“Earth to Hughie?” you ask, gentler than he expects you to.

“Hey, hey dude,” you move to sit next to him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “If you don’t wanna continue we don’t have to. We can stop it’s fine! I’ll still give you the information you want.”

His blood runs cold.

“Wh-why do you think I want… information from you?” his voice is quiet, distant. If you knew, what do others know?

“Oh I’m not stupid,” you laugh, “I recognize you, from the news? From Vought? And then it also begs the question of: why would a man as cute as you go after little old me, hmm? Supes complicate things. We’re not exactly easy to date.”

You had him there. He nods, understanding. Relief washing over him.

“Oh thank god,” he sighs, and leans into your touch.

“I was worried you’d strangle me with vines or some shit.”

You laugh, hard; it’s beautiful. Sounds like angels to him.

“I could still do that,” you joke, “but in a different context.”

He’s still hard, and he notices that joke only excites him more. You seem to notice too.

You stand up, walking towards the open door to your bedroom.

“Now Hughie, I’m going to give you the information no matter what, but I think I think we might both have more fun in here.”

You watch as his hands clench and unclench on the couch, his nerves sparking your nerves. He’s so handsome, really, in a boyish and incorruptible way. You want him to stay.

And steadily, Hughie rises from the couch, walks over to you, and kisses you eagerly. Harder than you expect. You pull him through the doorway, no breaking the kiss until you tumble onto the bed with him, yanking at his flannel to try to pull it off.

“You uh, have a lot more plants in here,” he remarks between kisses.

“Better for…. soundproofing,” you offer, “Thin walls.”

And Hughie pauses to watch, amused, as easily the worlds biggest pothos begins to trail its vines across the walls, one particular vine actually using the door handle to shut the bedroom door behind the two of you. His eyes then travel around your room, around all of your personal belongings, your civilian clothes on the floor, to…

Your dresser, where you forgot to put your strap on away. You feel your face heat up even though it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Part of you, you think, doesn’t want to scare him away.

“That’s— oh god— I forgot to put that away, I was moving stuff and…” you trail off when Hughie’s eyes meet yours.

“Dude, you totally don’t have to explain. I’ve been around,” He says with an air of confidence, which you don’t deny.

“Have you ever—?” the question hangs in the air, and you use this as the perfect time to fling his discarded flannel across the room.

“Have I? No, never. But maybe next time?” He let’s that question hang in the air next to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he starts to unlatch the corset of your Supe costume.

“Oh, next time?” you ask, pausing to moan at his teeth scraping your pulse, “There’s gonna be a next time?”

You hope you don’t sound too eager.

He shrugs, and mumbles something that sounds like “sure” against your skin. Good enough. You hook your thigh around his hip and push, maneuvering him on his back under your straddled legs. You throw the corset top off somewhere near where you aimed his flannel, and lean down to kiss him, his hands almost immediately cupping your chest. You grind against him again, and he whimpers against your lips. Fuck, he sounds so sweet.

You break the kiss to reach for his belt, not missing the way his chest heaves and a dreamy smile spreads across his face.

“You want me to fuck you, Pretty Boy?”

“God, please,” he begs, and you smile as you get to work on the button of his pants as well, quickly pushing the jeans down and letting him kick them the rest of the way off.

He’s wearing boxers with penguins all over them.

“Are these your seduction plot underwear?” you ask, not hiding your laughter.

He sits up to grabs your hips, all while laughing with you.

“They’re lucky!”

“Says who?”

“Stop making fun of me and take your pants off so we match.”

You’ve never laughed this much with someone you were sleeping with. He was fun.

You shimmy out of your tighter than hell pants and then climb back on top of him as he wolf whisked jokingly at you.

“No penguins,” he comments.

“You like these better though.”

You’re right, he does. He dips his fingers under the dark lace, only to revel in the shuddering gasp in response. His head falls back into the pillow as his thumbs massage circles into your hips, guiding you to rock back and forth on top of him again. You can feel him, straining through his gaudy underwear, and fuck you want him inside you.

He whimpers below you, eyes screwed shut, and you shift away, pulling the elastic of his boxers down the same way you pulled at his pants. He springs free, his cock bouncing up to slap against his stomach, and you smile as you crawl down lower on the bed.

“Can I have a taste?” you ask, batting your lashes at him.

“You can have whatever you want,” he moans as your hand wraps around his length. You dip your head down, taking a curious lick of his tip, before taking him into your mouth without warning. He moans again, hands scrambling to find purchase in your hair and planting them there as you bob up and down on his cock.

You can feel him twitch in your mouth already. Fuck, how long has it been since he’s…? Well, you’re about to rock his world.

You rise up quickly, removing him from your mouth but not your hand, and a shiver runs through his body at the sensation of the cool air on his dick.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?”

He looks at you, eyes blown wide with lust, as he nods affirmative.

“I asked,” you squeeze the base of his cock and his mouth falls open, “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“Yes! Yeah, please.”

“Please what?” you ask, one handedly working your underwear down (more easily said than done, but Hughie doesn’t mind the awkwardness).

“Please fuck me, I’ll be good.”

You smile at him like the cat who’s caught the canary.

Once your panties are thrown carelessly next to you at the end of the bed, you crawl up, hands and knees, until you’re hovering above him. You lean down to kiss him, sloppy, lots of tongue, before pressing the absolute sweetest kiss to his forehead.

You line yourself up with his cock and impale yourself on it, gasping in surprise at your own reaction. He feels even bigger than he did in your hand. You take a second, deep breathing.

“Are you okay?” he asks so earnestly it could kill you.

You let out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re just, god— you’re big. Give me a second.”

And you both do, with Hughie letting out a sharp whine when you finally do move, at first a slow grind against each other’s bodies, and then honest thrusting.

Your thighs burn as you work yourself up to a rhythm, rising and falling on Hughie’s cock. His hands find your chest again, big calloused fingers massaging you, and genuine affection for this man blooms in your chest.

“Oh fuck this feels amazing,” he groans, bucking his hips up to meet your thrust and you scream, completely involuntarily, at how deep he really is.

“Oh!” you gasp, “you’re telling me, Pretty Boy.”

He meets your thrusts in rhythm now, letting you bounce on his cock as your thumb finds its way to his lips; first tracing them, then delving between them as he eagerly opens his mouth to accept it. Hughie sucks on your thumb and it sends shockwaves up your arm. You’re thankful for your plants, because you’re sure people in the apartments around you would hate to hear the creaking bedframe, to hear you chant his name.

His hips stutter, bucking you slightly.

“Gonna cum pretty boy?”

He nods furiously, still sucking your thumb.

“Beg for it, and I’ll let you,” you coo, teasing him.

He pushes your thumb away with his tongue, and starts absolutely babbling.

“Please fuck holy fuck, shit ahhh— let me cum? Please? I’ll be good I’ll make you cum i’ll do fuck— anything!”

Good enough!

You grab his hands from their place on your chest and move them to your headboard. Immediately his hands white knuckle the railings. You speed up, thighs now absolutely burning, calves ready to cramp, but it’s all worth it. You feel amazing.

He flinches, twitches, a familiar heat floods you, and you slow down, chuckling breathlessly. His right hand leaves the headboard, and reaches down to where your bodies meet. He rubs his thumb against your clit, and it takes only seconds for you to me shaking on top of him, whispering his name as you cum for him.

There isn’t cuddling after, but more flirting; joking and playful jabs at each other. It’s comfy. You freely give him all the information he wants, and then some. He watches in awe again as the vines of your pothos retreat to their normal tangles around their pots and stands.

“If you ever want more information, you know where to find me now,” you say nonchalantly after you throw on a big tee shirt from your drawer, hoping he takes the hint for more. He smiles, about to respond, when you notice something peeking out of his pocket.

“Are those my panties?” you exclaim, “Is that where they went?!”

He looks down, sheepish and bright red, but doesn’t move to empty his pockets.

“Guilty,” he shrugs, “I did say I liked these better.”

You smile, willing to give up the pair. Both of you drift to the door slowly, like a waltz, and when he’s in the door frame, he surprises you.

“So, next time I need information, I’ll just drop by, okay?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“No games or seduction plot but uhhh. If you want to use that thing…”

“Strap on,” you supply, deadpan.

“Yeah, right!” Strap on. If you want to use it.”

“Okay, Hughie.”

Both of you laugh, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and then he’s gone.

Until next time.

[smurphyse]

The Avocado I Didn't Have | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, depictions of gore, monster fights, descriptions of blood, overuse of 80s song lyrics

Summary: Because your friends won't let you have just one day to yourself, you venture out into the Darkness only to find Edward Munson bleeding out

Sunlight filters in through the windows, a soft breeze billowing the curtains, making them dance along with the wind. The chimes on the porch tinkle while the suncatchers spread colors along the walls. Warmth from the morning sun washes over my legs as I swing them off the bed and stretch out the stiffness in my shoulders.

Reaching high and rolling my neck, I intertwine my fingers and let out a little groan. Recently I've been sleeping like shit, and last night wasn’t any better. Dreams of the Darkness and the lab haunted me through fitful tossing and turning along the sheets. They used to happen every night, sometimes during the day, but they had become fewer and further between. This uptick in nightmares rocks me to the core every time they decide to rear their ugly head. 

I let my arms down slowly, feeling a bit better and loose. The hardwood is warm from the sun streams under my bare feet as I make my way to the kitchen. I mutter my usual hellos to my army of houseplants I have scattered around the cabin, and I'm rewarded with their bright happy flora and leaves trailing about. The pothos enjoy their spots up on the bookshelves I’ve got lining the walls while the succulents bask in the warmth on the windowsill.

It’s just one big room -open kitchen with a window facing the front yard that hides my cabin with its array of trees in the dense forest, rugs along the hardwood and crappy armchairs I’ve found over the years sit in front of the fireplace- but it’s home. I found this cabin in the secluded off-the-trails area of Hawkins some years ago and fixed it up the best I could. It took a lot of learning and reading, but luckily I have a little telekinesis that comes in handy when it comes to lifting heavy things and turning tight bolts into wood.

I push aside a few errant vines I keep forgetting to trail along the nails I’ve put in the beams, but once again decide I’m not going to worry about it today. Pulling the coffee pot from the carafe, I slide it between the greenery and fill it with water. Where I am, the water is infected where it’s not dried out, so I bring in water jugs and fill it in the reservoir I’ve set up out back behind the cabin. Another reminder I’ve made my life harder than it needs to be.

But this is safer. There’s safety in seclusion.

"Hey… Hey… What’s the matter with your head, yeah," Redbone croons through the speakers as I putter around in an old flannel and underwear. “Hey… hey… what's the matter with your mind and your sign and oh.”

My sleeve rolls up as I pour the water into the coffee maker, and even all these years later my eyes go straight for the tattoo on my wrist. 000 stands out like a brand. I suppose that’s exactly what it is. I’ve thought about covering it almost every day since escaping Papa and his military goons, but I’ve never been able to make myself get new ink. One, it would require going to a more populated area and showing an ID that I don’t have to prove I’m above the age of eighteen. Two, it’s a part of me.

A painful soul wrenching part that will never leave. Covering the ink won’t fix me no matter how much I wish it would. 

You have to know, daughter, Papa’s voice echoes from those deep caverns of memory, always at the worst times. I do these things because I love you. You’re capable of greatness, and we need to bring it to the light. Do you understand?

“Do you understand?” I mock to the empty room, making a face and scoffing. I slap the carafe into the pot and let it percolate, then head outside to check my garden.

In the mood for something yummy after such a shit night, I wander through the thick grass and enjoy the sun on my skin as I make my way over. The garden’s expansive, full of more food than I’ll ever realistically eat on my own, but it doesn’t matter. What I don’t use I take down to Stoney Hightower at the Farmer’s Market in Greencastle, the next town over from Hawkins, and he gives me enough for my troubles and my out-of-season fresh strawberries.

I have everything, from tomatoes to potatoes, from bananas to avocados. The half acre of vegetation is spattered with high stalks and fruit trees, plumed with green bean sprouts and cabbages. My powers had been honed long ago, the initial telekinesis I showed as an infant growing until it included element manipulation.

When I finally learned it was all chemistry, simple mathematics and formulas taught by my father, it all made more sense. Papa wanted to turn me into a weapon. All I’d ever wanted to do was create. He wanted me to destroy, and when I refused I was punished.

Eleven years after escaping him and Hawkins’ lab, I hadn’t gone far. I retreated to the Darkness and inside created my safe space. At twenty six I’ve been alone almost half my life, and I like it that way… but it gets lonely here sometimes.

I pluck a few avocados from a tree, eyeing the Darkness at the edge of my property. The red and purple clouds seem to breathe on their own as they wage their constant war to entreat on my home, only giving way to the sunshine dome around me. I’ve kept myself hidden in this little enclave, masking the area so only I can enter. It’s hard some days to keep up the shield around it, to make sure Henry can’t enter, but so far he hasn’t stepped foot inside.

I can see the creatures circling in the distant crackling sky, and I cock my head as I wonder what food they’ve found in the desolate Dark. Deciding I don’t want to know, I turn on my heel only to come face to face with one of the creatures themselves.

Shrieking like a scared rabbit, I fall hard on my ass and scramble away until my back hits the avocado tree. My precious fruits bounce away and my fucked up brain grieves the avocado I didn’t have before dying. Chest heaving, I blink through the harsh sunlight as its shadow covers me and it’s twitching head cocks to the side.

The head is a giant bird skull with no visible eyes and thin skin, with leathery wings and sharp claws. It’s the size of two grown vultures, massive and imposing. It lets out a little brrup and hops toward me, so I reach out to pet its beak.

“Screech! You scared the shit outta me!” I huff, letting out a relieved chuckle. Screech pats his foot in bliss as my heart rate slows to normal, humming happily and nuzzling his bony chin further into my hand.

I push him away and get to my feet, ignoring Screech’s little groan of disappointment and the insistent fluttering of his wings. He’s always so needy. I put my hands on my hips and cock a brow at him, “Where’s Clem?”

The creature shrugs and looks away, not wanting to give his cuddles to his sister. I hook one finger under his beak and pull at him until he faces me. Though he’s at least twice my height, he knows I’m in charge and after a few tugs he relents.

“Where’s Clem, Screech?”

A small gurgling bark from behind makes my eyes go wide, and I turn just in time for Clem herself to barrel into my chest. I hit the ground harder than the first time, sliding through the grass as she nuzzles into me and licks every inch of skin she can reach. Laughing madly, I pat her leathery skin, the tickling feeling of her flower-bud mouth tingling all over.

I finally manage to roll out from under her and get to my feet, holding out my hands playfully. She wags her tail, her bulky body coiled to pounce on me once more. The size of a small horse, Clem acts like a dog. Just like Screech, she has no eyes, just that flower-shaped mouth that spreads wide when she opens it.

“What are you two up to today?” I ask suspiciously. “Dinner isn’t until six. You guys know that.”

They exchange a look as well as they can with no eyeballs, but it’s clear enough. Just as I’m about to demand an answer, Screech hangs his head and points one bony wing to where the creatures circle the sky.

Something is out there.

“Well, shit.”

I kick aside the avocado I didn’t have before dying, resenting it more than grieving it now. Stomping back to the cabin, I wave my hands as Screech and Clem follow me closely up the hill.

“I fully intended to have a me day, y’know? I was gonna have a bath, a glass of wine,” I call to them as I bang around in my room. I pull on a pair of jeans and heavy boots for the coolness, snag a jacket off the back of the door. “And you two show up and now I have to go into the Dark.”

Clambering into the kitchen, I glare at them through the porch window. I pour fresh coffee into a thermos as they watch me, letting out little chirrups of embarrassment while they wait patiently. I huff and squint at them, “This isn’t something you can handle by yourselves?”

Clem and Screech shake their heads, so I let out a dramatic groan and head for the gun closet. I’ve collected a handful of useful weapons over the years, made a few myself, but I instinctively reach for the pistol holster and their respective pieces. I grab the shotgun and loop the strap over my shoulders before closing it and snatching my thermos off the counter. 

Kicking the door open, I step onto the porch. It creaks with my weight, slight as it is. I’ve been meaning to replace the slats but that would mean going into the real world and I haven’t been up for it lately with all the nightmares. I frown at my two little monsters as I pull my long curls into a ponytail.

“This better be good, guys.”

I head off the porch to the side of the cabin, hopping into the ‘84 robin’s egg blue Jeep that lay nestled between the trees. I’d… procured it some years ago and brought it through a gate I’ve since closed. I keep it in tiptop condition, proud of my car that nobody gets to see with its registration that once belonged to someone named Haley Goddard. Poor Haley. I’m certainly never going to give it back. 

I’ve found myself capable of a lot of things since leaving the lab when at first I was like a scared puppy in the rain, unsure and terrified. I find books in bargain bins and when I have enough money I buy better ones on everything from mechanics to architecture to horticulture. Learning’s in my DNA thanks to Papa, so I enjoy it even though the thought of him makes my skin crawl.

Clem and Screech lead me through the trail of trees to the edges of my property, which I affectionately call The Haven. We venture into the Darkness, the sunshiney dome of the Haven shifting quickly to the deep purple storms. While I have reception in the Haven, it’s spotty at best in the Darkness, so I pop in a mix-tape I found at the record store to let some semblance of my morning routine happen while I sip my coffee from the thermos.

“If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me,” ABBA comes through on the speakers, a little crackly, but I don’t mind. I pull a face and decide to roll with it, swaying in time with the music as I enter a storm.

The rolling clouds surround us as we drive around the vines, creatures swarming the Jeep but they know to leave us be. I’ve killed enough of them that they avoid me and my bright blue car. I only really have to deal with them now if I get in their way.

I drive through the Dark Hawkins, following Screech and Clem through winding roads in the boonies until we reach the trailer park. Once, before the Darkness took over this place, the buildings were pristine, beautiful. Better looking than they were in the real world. Now, the vines and monsters have taken over and encircle everything with a flurry of dust and violence.

It’s a shame. This world was my safe place once. The entirety of it mimicked the Haven, not just my little property. Henry and I spent hours exploring and mapping all of it, playing with the creatures before they all turned to blood and death. Before Henry’s own demons followed and destroyed everything.

“'Cause you know I've got so much that I wanna do. When I dream I'm alone with you,” I sing along as we go deeper into the Darkness. Clem and Screech lead me through the haze of those flying ratbat fuckers that Henry created, about five miles from the Haven. “It’s magic.”

A group of them were crouched around something, pulling and biting as I hop out of the Jeep. Deciding it might be best to make a quick getaway, I leave the door open as my feet hit the ground, careful to avoid the vines. I don’t want Henry to know I’m here.

The music plays as I approach, tiptoeing around the tendrils embedded in the dirt as Huey Lewis & The News echoes around the Dark, “I was walkin’ down a one-way street, just a-lookin’ for someone to meet…”

I swat away the swarm, poking at them with the butt of the shotgun. One of them turns and hisses at me, swinging out a clawed hand. I smash the gun on its head and kick another, and soon enough they back off, skirring as they slink away.

“Now I'm hopin' (hopin') that the feeling is right, and I'm wonderin' (wonderin') if you'll stay for the night…”

Clem and Screech push them further away as I inspect their prey. My lip curls into a disgusted snarl as I approach, eyeing the splattered blood and hardly recognizable jeans. An electric guitar hangs limply in one of the person’s hands, the strings snapped and the body cracked.

They must have made their way through to the real world and dragged some poor bastard inside.

Skin and bone sticks up from leather and cotton fabric, shredded and glistening far too brightly in this dimmed and darkened place. While Clem and Screech keep the creatures at bay, I kneel beside the body and reach to the blood-covered face of this person. I press the back of my hand to their cheek. It’s sticky with drying blood but still warm.

I let my fingers trail down the mess of broken bones and snagged skin, wrapping my hand around the wrist and feeling for a pulse.

"If you believe it, take my hand, and I'll take your heart…”

I can faintly feel something, but it’s hard to tell like this. I set the gnarled hand down and press my fingers to the throat. Matted hair and sweat lines the person’s skin, and I have to peel some thick curling strands away. It’s fading…. But I can feel it.

This person is alive.

Making sure Clem and Screech are holding their own, shrieking and clawing at the flying ratbats, I push away some hair from their head to get a better look at them. I inspect them as I cup their face gently in my hands. Taking a deep breath, I let myself relax for what I’m about to do.

Any medical combat situation starts with this question, Zero, Colonel Sullivan’s voice comes from the back of my mind, How do I stop the bleeding?

I suck in air through my nose as I focus, letting my friends protect me while I help this person. Platelets stick together around wounds to stop the bleeding. They need help though. Protein binds with platelets to form a fibrin clot. 

I need to form a fibrin clot. 

I’ve done this enough times on myself but this person is bleeding badly. Barely able to fathom how they’re still alive, I hope they were at least unconscious for the creatures eating into their belly.

Picturing the blood vessels shrinking to slow the blood flow, the energy in the body kickstarts to healing with my help. As they constrict, I hum to focus. The platelets move to cover the injuries, the brain activating to begin coagulation. Sticky blood pools beneath my knees as I work, and my nose begins to drip with the effort. 

Guiding protein to the platelets, I let the body begin the process and let go, doing my best to ignore the copper scent of blood as I wipe it away from my upper lip. There will be a lot of work for me to do on them, but for now this will last until we get back to the Haven. Pulling a handkerchief from my back pocket, I spit on one corner and begin to wipe away the blood and dirt.

For a moment I think they might be a woman, they’re so pretty. Soft rounded cheekbones give way to full lips, but the Adam’s apple on his throat tells me he’s a man. He’s young, probably my age, and much too gentle looking to be in a place like this.

Patting him down as the creatures hiss around me for taking their food, I feel until I find the thin lining of a wallet in his back pocket. I dig it out and flip it open, reading the name on the license in the little window.

Edward Wayne Munson, DOB 10/31/1965.

There’s a few other interesting things in his pockets, such as one of those twenty-sided dice nerds like to use in their games. I’d read about D&D, but seeing as I have no friends I’ve never played. A slip of paper folded up in one reads, Corroded Coffin, tonight only! with a picture of a curly-haired guitarist on stage with his band. I also find a joint in his jacket pocket, pre-rolled and in good condition, and I chuckle as I stuff it into my jacket along with his other things for safe keeping.

“Do you believe in love? Do you believe it's true?” Huey Lewis sings from the car as I zip his jacket to keep his organs inside during the drive. The last thing I need is to clean guts from the upholstery.

I loop the shotgun and guitar over my back with the straps, then lean over and grab Edward Munson under the armpits and drag him back to the car. I try to avoid the vines, but as I pull him along, Edward gasps and jerks one of his arms from my grasp.

“Fuck,” I hiss as I scramble to hold onto him. “Stay still!”

He struggles anyways, panic and pain likely taking over despite his weakness and the damage to his body. I grip his hair tightly at the crown, pull his head back to look at me. I find myself gazing into bright brown eyes that are full of terror and glistening with tears.

“I’m going to help you,” I say sternly. “Let me help you.”

Edward lets out a breath of relief, and I let his head drop back down. But then he spots Screech, Clem, and the ratbats. His legs kick out in a panic. Right into one of the vines.

“Well… shit.”

Lightning flashes across the sky with a thunderous crack! The clouds turn red, pulsing in the dark and rolling straight toward us, and I drop him in my fear. He hits the ground hard, but I pull him up again in a flash, a mad dash of panic to get the hell back to safety.

Screech jumps back from the swarm, snapping his beak at the ratbats. He snarls as Clem takes pleasure in biting the heads off any that she can reach. I drag Edward to the Jeep, yelling and cursing even though I’m sure he’s unconscious again.

“You stupid fuck!” I scream as I pull him under the open door. More of the swarm appears, and one tugs at my ponytail, dragging me back until I fall on my ass on the cold ground.

My hand flashes back to grip it at the base. Tears spring to my eyes as it jerks my head back and forth. The wings flap loudly, only the roaring of the rising wind audible over it. Letting out a screech, I manage to pull one of the pistols from my holster and point it behind my head.

The pop is deafening, a dull ringing bursting across my eardrum as the wind howls in my other. The creature yelps as the bullet hits meat, releasing me and flopping across the ground in pain. I scramble to my feet, holding my hand out as I force the ground to raise Edward to the level of the Jeep seats. Quickly rounding the car, I jump into the passenger side and pull him in, then lean the seat back as far as it will go and shove him down on it.

Pulling the passenger door closed, I climb over him to the driver’s side, slamming it shut. Throwing the car in reverse, I back up enough to give Clem and Screech room to defend us, then slap it in drive and tear off toward the Haven.

The sky booms with lights and electricity. The storms burst from the area of town where the old Creel house is, where Henry hides, and my jaw drops as it heads straight toward my little car. Fear bursts through my veins at the thought of him catching me. I stomp down on the gas, the Jeep rattling and bouncing over each bump and vine I’d taken care to avoid on the way here.

Edward groans, struggling to sit up with every bounce of the shocks on the crappy road. His voice slurs, deep and husky as he asks, “What the fuck it going on?”

“Shut up, dipshit!”

He looks my way with bleary eyes. Still bleeding, still damaged, likely beyond repair. I’m not sure I’ll be able to save him, and all I can think about is that damned avocado I should have had before venturing out into a waking nightmare. He nods and goes limp, and I curse to nobody, “Great! Just great! I just wanted to have one nice day!”

I spot Clem and Screech in the rearview mirror, just as fast as the ratbats though they are much bigger. The speedometer hits 80 mph before I reach the borders of the Haven, winding through trees and the trails. I don’t slow until I see Clem and Screech follow me inside.

The creatures hiss outside as they approach the sunlit patch of land, coming up short and snarling at me from a distance. Even though I know they won’t, I sigh a breath of relief that they don’t follow us inside.

By the time I park next to the cabin, my body turns to jelly. My fingers and hands shake as I peel them from the steering wheel. Looking over to the man slumped over in my passenger seat, I shake my head.

“You better be worth it, Munson.”

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: Okay, I've been working on this for a while... I need to know what you think of Zero and if you like her/the story so far. I'm really excited for this story and I want you guys to like it! &lt;3

Also, the faceclaim for Zero is Adria Arjona because I think she looks similar to me even though I'm Siksika and she's Latina. We share very similar features ngl Zero is a projection of parts of myself

Stranger Things Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23

[all-pacas]

plants:

zz plant i’ve had for years, usually hangs out by the fridge

chinese fan palm: this bastard gives me so much trouble. it’s weirdly picky about humidity i guess. it kept half dying for a while but it grows like a weed when it’s happy, which is never. it’s a replacement for a pineapple palm my cat destroyed (bc he liked playing with the fronds)

golden pothos and heartleaf philodendron: hang out on top of the fridge. i’ve been growing them out to make a lil canopy with my huge lamp as you can see. i can’t remember where and when i got the philodendron; i’ve had it forever. the pothos was a 5 dollar supermarket plant.

blue table has my fun plants: pitcher that’s growing like a madman but refuses to grow actual pitchers; cactus (hidden behind it); coffee plant; dragonfruit plant; swiss cheese vine i am gonna repot into something bigger and let go ham. all but the coffee plant were random supermarket finds. my local coop has a ton of great plants. it’s dangerous. just yesterday i saw a great prayer plant.

not pictured: i have an olive tree in the corner. i need to buy it a nice plant stand or something.

bedroom plants: arrowhead plant (gift), snakehead, peace lily i’ve had for ever so even tho i kind of hate it im like. i gotta. keep it. blushing and prince of orange philodendrons. money tree that’s growing like crazy i love it. im running out of tables in my apartment. i want more plants

NOTE: a lot of my plants are not pet safe!!! i am lucky that my cat has zero interest in eating them but i carefully monitored him and the plants and a lot are kept out of his reach. but he’s the pickiest eater on the planet so i got lucky, his palete is too Refined for chomping

so my fridge broke, and my landlord is gonna be in today to replace it. very nice. i had to move all the plants and stuff into a corner to help facilitate this, and, i dunno, i’m kind of impressed with how overgrown it all looks

[whatgaviiformes]

I've been thinking about indoor plants soooo much since I read Code Verde (which was still so good!) And now I want to know what sort of plants you think would suit each of the Tracy boys under the assumption that they're a great plant dad 😄💕 (if you are so inclined 💕💕)

Buckle up, let's go!

Assuming plant dad is a shared Tracy trait, I think Tracy villa would be quite the nursery! Now I will admit, houseplants are a hobby of mine, and I do love foliage and greenery. But I am in no ways an expert. So here are some possible headcanons for plantdad!Tracys. In truth, they probably have so much outside their windows…

I was indecisive on some of these, so I may have talked about both the plant I think they'd actually grow and the plant that matches their personalities symbolically.

Scott - Pothos is a common name for a plant that is not a pothos species at all, but rather an epipremnum. These are a vining plant and quite common, but there is a gorgeous species called cebu blue that I think is spot on for Scott. They do have a blue green color that's just chef's kiss Symbolically, I think these match the kind of person that is a constant dreamer because of the way they will continue to grow and endure, creating lush waterfalls of color. They can be relentless. I think they are perfect for someone who reaches for the sky, because in the wild, they will climb up trees.

Also, they can develop fenestrations as they grow. I am not sure if this is true, but I have heard the theory that plant leaves develop those splits or holes in order to make sure the leaves below it still gets the light it needs, and if that doesn't sound like Scott to you, I don't know what does.

I think the practical side of him would enjoy plants that also have a use - so, he's got the basil, and rosemary and sage in sweet little pots by the kitchen windowsills… (did we just enter the cottagecore of TSOF? We might have).

Virgil - Virgil to me is a creature of the big leaves, the Aroid Connoisseur. I stand by what I originally wrote in Verde, which is that he'd be the one with the massive monstera (for which the same fenestration story applies). But in addition to monsteras … I also think he'd be into those large anthuriums, the upright philodendrons. He'd be into leaf shape, and the patterns created by the veining, and the fun textures created by the structures and diverse stems.

But since Virgil is passionate about so many things - lifting but also the precision of art, and engineering but also the release of music, and so on … I see him also have orchids, with a variety of flowers. He sees the beauty in so many things, so I think he'd appreciate the delicate nature of orchids too.

John - I have all over my fics that John's the hoya guy. It's in Verde, but I also have a little mini one shot called Inflorescence here. The hoyas are the ones I can keep alive, so they are the ones I think would do best with John's time away. By nature of the humidity, they would love Tracy Island since many hoya species are from Australia, tropical areas of Asia, and the Pacific Islands. You'll see hoya at vining species either trailing or climbing, often epiphytic hanging off branches of trees. For those not familiar with hoyas, they are sometimes called wax plants and they flower in little clusters (as you might have seen in some of my pictures). They are hardy and durable.

I'll admit, now that I've seen it a lot too, I can't quite separate him from being the one who likes cacti and succulents too, which matches his brand of chaos. He's a busy guy, so any plants he has would need to be able to handle a bit of distraction while he works on his 10 other passions and learns his siblings' too for the hell of it.

Gordon - He's our little naturalist, so I think Gordon in reality would be more a follower of aquaponics, and the types of plants that would do well in his aquariums. Some of these may overlap with his brothers', but his plants would be the ones that would help with his water purification. I think he'd have peace lilies and sygoniums and dracaenas and a PROLIFIC money plant, and probably so many propagations of his brothers' plants. He probably has a spider plant that looks like chaos incarnate with a ton of offsets that really should be separated, but she's his shaggy girl and he loves her.

Alan - I see Alan liking structural plants, the tenacious kind, like himself. Tall ones that grow vertically and baby plants that stay small. Palms and snake plants and aloe and jade, and plants with cool names like the 'samurai sansevieria', but his favorite is the one that looks like Shrek's ears.

I see Kayo being into dark foliage; there's a gorgeous alocasia she probably heard about from Virgil, called "Black Velvet" that feels soooo up her alley. There's a part of me that wants Brains to be into begonia and the many cultivars of. If plants were one of his passions, it just feels like something that would keep him interested since there's always so much happening in that side of the hobby. You know - why not? He's done an entire thesis on the Fibonacci sequence on his begonia escargot. And Grandma feels like calathea - color and patterns that are all about movement. <3

Okay I've rambled enough.

[moocha-muses]

Am I still in time to leave another prompt? Houseplants

It didn't actually seem like such a big deal, when he brought home the first one. "Lakshmi's chlorophytum comosum had babies!" he proclaimed, rapturous, shoving an infant spider plant under my nose for adoration. I said, "Can't you leave that shit at work?"

He couldn't leave that shit at work.

First, generously, a potted aloe vera. "You get all those sunburns." Joke. Then the philodendron, presenting like a Sprite commercial. About a third of the apartment went to the 'Monstera Deliciousa' (jesus fuck, i'm being fucked with) temporarily. He swears. Goddamn dozens of fat little succulents, purple and swollen like a punch to the eye. And the Golden Pothos, queening it up on a TV tray.

First I had to start smoking on the balcony, then the balcony got filled with pots and I had to smoke out on the street. Put out for the night like the damn cat. I thought it would be easier to breathe with the plants making so much O2, but I'd wake up in the middle of the night gasping so I looked it up and it turns out we can't even breathe pure oxygen, we need lots of other little elements that the plants were eating up, getting greener and greener and greener. I started sleeping with the window open so I could breathe in wholesome smog.

I don't think Aiden even slept, towards the end. He was always hip-deep in his little apartment jungle; maybe a god, maybe a supplicant, maybe just a very devoted caretaker. Caught him pissing into straight into the dirt; something about nitrogen in the soil. When he started going on about bone fertilizer, and the cat 'ran away', I knew it was him or me.

(I was pretty sure it'd be stupid to give him to the jungle. So I buried Aiden in a park upstate. (With a few bags of quicklime.) Let the trees go to town on their 'fertilizer' somewhere far away from me.)

But, you know . . . I kind of got used to them? The houseplants. Once I got home I could just feel them giving me these big, sad eyes. Now that Aiden's not around to water them, they need me. It's kind of sweet, how, when it's time for dinner, a buncha cute little vines start crawling up my sleeve.