#and some more parcels are also gonna get sent out!! Ahh

[velvetwyrme]

packiges............................ (to send!!)

[sdv-mostly-shane]

The Flowers.

Summary: the farmer is inundated with anonymous flowers-they can’t figure out who it is, until a certain hooded someone is seen in the shadows.

‘Hm. That’s strange.”

The farmer huffed in a bemused manner. Right in front of them, stuffed precariously in their mailbox, was a carefully tied bundle of flowers: but not just any flowers- handpicked wildflowers. From the looks of it, they came directly from the little patch of meadow right by the mountain lake. They were vibrant and effervescent (even if a little disheveled from being stuffed in the mailbox)

“How beautiful. There’s no note though.. I wonder who left them.”

The famer had never received flowers prior to this moment, but they were able to hunt down a vase from the dusty rafters of the cellar. The wildflowers, now decidedly placed on the center of the small dinning table, stood proud; the farmer admired their beauty, and then continued about their day-happy to see them once more before they clamored into bed for the night.

“Huh. Another one?”

The farmer stopped themselves from bursting through the door before they trampled over the bundle on their doorstop. The first floral arrangement sitting on their table had not even begun to wilt yet, and yet the farmer had now recieved double the amount of flowers they’ve ever gotten in their lifetime. They scooped down to pick up the flowers, noticing how this bundle was delicately wrapped in newspaper and twine. The delicate petals were pristine this time, having been carefully laid on the doormat. As the farmer searched for another vase, eventually settling for an empty mason jar, they briefly wondered who could have sent them- maybe their parents in the city? For now, they settled with placing their prize on the table, next to the first arrangement.

“Okay that’s a little weird-“ the farmer exclaimed while removing a parcel of sunflowers from inside the hay bailer in their chicken coop “-why here?”

The farmer had already recieved, arranged, and placed their third flower bundle on the table next to the other two from the days prior, but was taken aback by having found a fourth one that very same day.

“Sunflowers aren’t even in season right now... they’re so hard to come by. Why give me these-they’d be much better given to someone they lo-“

The farmer stopped themselves from finishing their sentence; they didn’t want to admit that they potentially had a secret admirer, and was more comforted by telling themselves that it must just be Lewis making them feel at home... okay, maybe not comforted by that thought, but it was better than the anxiety of wondering who could possibly like them enough to deliver anonymous, expensive flowers. The farmer curiously inspected the beautiful specimens as they made their way to the kitchen to find yet another vessel to work as a vase- this time, a small bucket.

“If this keeps happening I’m gonna have to go buy an actual vase... and maybe a bigger table.”

Over the month, the discoveries of more flowers had increased in frequency to the point where the farmer had almost expected them. Parcels of sweet peas, tulips, roses, crocuses, daffodils, and more had now made daily appearances, each day to be found in a more curious spot. It had expanded to where the farmer was finding their secret gifts not only on their farm, but around town. Some of these places the farmer had an easy time of finding, such as tied to the saddle of their horse, hidden in one of their many storage chests, or stuffed in the trelles of a green bean stalk. Others, such as tied upside down to a branch on a tree next to the wizards tower, floating on a log in a puddle on the beach, and (the most curious-) placed under a light rock on the 34th level of the mines, were quite a bit harder to find. Thankfully, these more obscurely hidden ones had a note with the word ‘FARMER’ scribbled on them, but still no name.

“Yeah I definitely need a bigger table.”

The mysterious flowers had completely taken over the kitchen table, and had migrated to every available surface space in their cabin.

1:50 AM struck on the farmers watch-they had just finished milking the sleeping cows, and had in their hand their 49th bundle of flowers, found waiting for them in their milk pail. Only a little exasperated at having to search for a container at 2AM, and a lot anxious to know who they hell, why the hell, and how the hell someone was playing this game on them. As they cautiously made their way toward the farmhouse, eyes opened for any straggling bundles of flowers, a figure hovering by the side of the cabin caught their eye.

A blue tattered hoody, a tangle of jet black hair, and solid hands had clutched in them a bouquet of gardenias; the farmer gasped in recognition and realization of their mystery flower deliverer.

Shane, startled by the farmers loud gasp, had a few moments of brief terror in his eyes, and then hastily ran down the path into town, still clutching the flowers.

“Wait, don’t-!” But Shane was already out of sight. “Does that mean he’s been the one giving me all these flowers...?”

The next day, the farmer got their answer... well, AN answer. When the farmer opened their door at the strike of 6AM, there on their doorstep was not a bouquet a flowers, but their long awaited note. Hurrying, the farmer bent down and read it-

FARMER:

it’s NOT ME. You didn’t see me at your house last night, and I DEFFINITELY WAS NOT holding anything. Not anything, not even flowers. I wasn’t hiding anything, especially not flowers. And I am deffinitely NOT the one responsible for hiding any flowers. Not me. No. And even if I WAS there, I deffinitely WAS NOT trying to hide anything in the rafters of your house. Nope. Okay bye.

love ,

SINCERELY,

SHANE

ps totally not me.

“Yoba please don’t let them know it was me.”

Shane sank into his bed, now back at home at 6:10 AM. Unfortunately for him, his 6:30 alarm had just screamed at him to get ready for work, and he begrudgingly made his way to the shower.

7:10 AM, and Shane was out the door. Or, at least he WAS out the door, until he stopped himself from trampling a box left on his doorstep. He cautiously opened the package to be greeted by the beautiful warm scent of fresh pepper poppers, and taped to the lid, a note :

Shane:

This box was totally and 100% from me. I DEFFINITELY cooked the fastest batch of poppers in my life, and I FOR SURE ran down here to deliver them, all in the span of an hour. It was me. And I also DEFFINITELY tried to take a peek in your window to catch a glimpse of you. Me. Okay bye

Love,

Farmer

ps, nice try on crossing the ‘love’ out on your letter-still DEFFINITELY saw it.

pss, thank you.

“Well fuck.”

Shane looked up to see the smiling face of the farmer leaning against a tree in front of him.

“Maybe they still don’t know it was me who hid the flowers...”

Inspired by :