#i keep thinking i should cut back the top; root in water; then plant in the same pot to make it look more lush

[mildmayfoxe]

what the hell am i supposed to do with this thing tbh. i can’t keep training it upwards bc it’s already as tall as me if i took it off the crate. the four foot stakes i put in there when i repotted it last summer aren’t doing shit anymore. all the new growth is shoved in this corner by the plant light. can’t you just be beautiful without me doing anything to you

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

*takes a deep breath* Tagged by @streetkid-named-desire @wanderingaldecaldo (you two I think at least twice lol) @seeker-of-truth

@baublekute @scarlettspectra @aggravateddurian. Thank you all very much for thinking of me! 🧡

Tag backs for everyone above 😘 and @luvwich @merge-conflict @shimmer-like-agirl @mynonsenseistingling

@fly-amanitaa @dani-the-goblin @tarmac-rat @lavnderkiwi @morganlefaye79

Cash your tag in now or later and feel free to do whatever creative projects you're working on! Doesn't even have to be fandom related.

It's been a minute. This one got long.

I largely haven't been doing any fandom stuff other than VP because my work schedule has been insane the past two months. And the only reason I have VP to post is because I'm generous about snapping pics and the vast majority of photos y'all are seeing are ones I took back in March/April/May.

Things at work are starting to be slightly less hectic though, so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to be gentle with myself about the time and energy I do have but it's been frustrating wanting to do things and not having the beans to do them. Spending most of my workdays outside for extended periods of time means I'm bone tired when I get home. And then I have more work to do outside...

Gardening

My garden is gonna be very scraggly looking for the rest of the year, but if I can keep it alive, in theory, the plants should come back bigger and bolder next year. Shortgrass prairie plants spend the bulk of their first few growing seasons establishing their root systems since water is often in short supply, so the tops of the plants are very unimpressive rn. Most of them probably won't get much bigger than this or even flower this year.

I've gotten a good chunk of the plants in the ground, have irrigation lines going to all of them, and did the lil concrete paver patio. I still need to finish planting the plants that have been languishing in their pots for over a month, bury the irrigation lines, and do a bunch of other random things, but we're getting there. Not planning on covering the bare dirt with mulch because I'm doing fall and spring seeding and I want the plants to self-sow. Going for wild pocket prairie and I'm gonna let it go absolutely feral. I'd eventually like to get rid of the river rocks too but baby steps.

What's really funny is all my native plants seem to be doing reasonable well. My vegetable garden on the other hand... It's sad. I know where I fucked up though (I should not have done that soil experiment lol and attack of the cutworm catepillars), so I'll just have to cut my loses this year and reevaluate for next. The worm composter is doing good though 🪱

Drawing

Attempting to get back into drawing. Again, it's been slow. Have been doodling some mutual's CP2077 OCs when I have the time and still have a ways to get through my list. I'm surprised by how much fan art of Grandpa I've received so I figured I'd return the favor for some folks. It's always a pleasant surprise getting some lovely art in your inbox. Probably won't be coloring most of these from here on out. I have a love hate relationship with coloring. Sorry, I just find lines more interesting. All of these were done with dip pen, ink, and watercolor.

I've got another more formal piece I need to work on as well and get done by the end of the month. Keep forgetting to do the layout sketches...

Writing

The slowest of them all. Been working on the same damn short fic (No. 1 of Les Preludes) and then brainstorming for about fifty other projects that are waiting their turn in line. Plus, I'm still trying to read too. But when I can only manage a chapter of a fic about every two weeks...

Most of my writing efforts have been bopping into my drafts now and then and pecking out a sentence or two. However, I did manage to spend 45 minutes detangling a section of about 200 words 🐢:

Have you or a loved one been in an accident or injured on the job?  Are you missing your former quality of life?  Holed up in the bathroom, Robert winced at his reflection in the mirror and at the crusted blood he picked at underneath his nostrils.  Then consider Arasaka Cybernetic Implants!  Fully functional prostheses are capable of replicating the full range of human motion and more!  Available in a range of sizes and styles to suit all your lifestyle needs.  The body of the future is NOW. The corners of his mouth tugged on a bruised eye and what former experience had taught him was a broken nose. Call 1-800-IMPLANT today for a free consultation! Low-interest financing and payment plans available. A rapid fire of unintelligible fine print was drowned out by the sputter of the faucet. Robert cupped his hands and scrubbed at his face, the pain disappearing for the briefest moments with the black of shut eyes and splashes of cold water.      Arasaka Corporation.  What can we do for you? Dry flecks of red decorated the sides of the sink before rehydrating into inky swirls of blood that slipped down the sides of imitation porcelain. Yellowed, cracked, and starting to chip. The plastic hadn’t aged well.

This snippet gives me the hardest war flashbacks to those late 90s/early 00s TV phone ads. Anyone else old enough to remember these things?

[iloveschiaparelli]

progress in the balcony garden

I traded one of my sea urchin echinopsis children for 2 snake plant cuttings which will live in the window hanging pots until I'm sure they're rooted, then one will likely go into the hallway bathroom.

I've planted a large quantity of hummingbird blend wildflower seeds in the large planter. I'm hoping they'll germinate soon and bloom and just make the whole balcony feel more special.

I also planted some Thyme from an Herb Rocket, some kind of fast-growing seed kit from dollar tree. I don't know if it will work, I'm just following the instructions and hoping for the best. I think I'll get another one of these small plastic planters for my spearmint seeds. I'll also need pots eventually for the lavender plants and new spider plant children, but I'm avoiding plastic pots (and broke) so it might be a while. I should probably move the African violet to a real pot too.

The spider plant in question is doing very well, it's flowered twice now and new children are already forming from the old flowers. There are also new flower buds forming so I think it will flower again soon. I may pot the existing child soon for giving away. The child I potted 2 weeks ago is now living by the window in my bedroom. I didn't notice the flowers at first because the whole branch was behind the blinds, but one day while outside I saw them through the window. I pulled the branch in front of the blinds because the flowers are sticking to the blinds and also because Rookie kept batting at them where I couldn't see.

The African violet was wilting and a lot of the flowers had died back, so I reported it. And it wilted even worse. I pruned all the Dead flowers and leaves back and reduced the amount of watering, a few days later it looked slightly better but not by much. Finally I realized it wasn't supposed to be getting full sun, so I moved it back to the hanging pots inside so that the temperature is more stable and the light, while plentiful, is indirect. And it already looks so much better!!! It's got a few more blooms and the leaves and flowers are significantly perked up. My one concern is overwatering it again.

My hesitation to repot it into a ceramic pot is vecause the plastic one fits so nicely into this silver colored ceramic, but honestly I should probably just pot it in the ceramic and be done with it. There's no drainage holes so I'll have to buy more river stones to place in the bottom.

The basil plant looks great, especially since I pruned off the dead stems from when I dropped it and pruned off a bunch of the tops as well. I haven't been eating it, so I had just been leaving it to grow. Turns out you really are supposed to prune it back to encourage growth. I might try drying out some of the leaves in the dehydrator next time to preserve it til I need it, instead of just dumping it over the railing.

My roomate and I both have lavender plants that are both on the balcony. Mine has been in full sun, but Lilly's was on the table where it got more shade for a while. I've been checking the soil of both frequently and while I've had to water mine a few times in the last couple weeks, hers has stayed suspiciously moist. I moved it to get more sun but I noticed today that it has a yellowish tint forming on it compared to mine. I'm suspecting potential dry rot, but the soil on top isn't warm to the touch yet so I'd have to dig into the roots a bit to confirm. I won't repot it without her permission.

The beeblossom used to have red stems and leaves but since the flowers have cone and gone, it's turning green. I've never cared for or really seen one of these plants before so I'm uncertain if this is a bad thing. The texture also seems slightly different. I am not a veteran in this but I bet pruning the dead flowers and leaves will help the plant out a bit. Also, the soil shrinks into the center of the pot making watering a pain since it just runs down the sides and onto the ground. I keep forgetting that I need to buy a pot to plant this in. Beeblossom doesn't yield any results on Google, so the species listed on the tag is Gaura Lindheimeri. It flowers in hot pink.

Finally, I didn't like how all the plants looked just in a line (which also made some of them difficult to reach behind the table) and I still don't have the means to buy or build a bench to raise them on, so I arranged them all around the Thyme planter for now. The succulents and lavender are in the back since they need significantly less water and this is a pretty wet region. Except for Nina the echinopsis, she's at the front for some reason. (I probably put her there so I wouldn't get stabbed watering whatever I swapper places with her). I should probably move her do she doesn't get overwatered and dry rotted. The Thyme needs to be watered twice a day to germinate so I've been keeping a good watch of this part of the plant empire.

Which reminds me, the plastic planters didn't have drainage holes so I stabbed it with a knife and accidentally created a larger hole than intended. Which I covered with a store receipt before pouring the river stones in so they wouldn't fall out. Hopefully the paper isn't too toxic. By the time it biodegrades, the soil should be mixed in with the stones enough to hold them in place.

[elminx]

As of the end of August 2023, I am caring for 42* houseplants (including propagations since they require separate care).

Of these 38 are in what I would call my permanent collection.

My oldest plant (the plant that I've had the longest) is my spider plant. My newest plant is a Dragonfruit Cactus. My oldest plant (age since propagation) is my Hoya publcalyx which is rumored to be 20 years old. My plant that is still in water is a NOID cane begonia. I'm feeling fairly lucky at the moment because I have very few "problem" plants. I have a Peperomia caperata that hasn't ever thrived in my care (it's in the three-leaf club) and my Cyclamen has been battling aphids off and on all summer. This is better than when I last recorded a planty update in December and I was having problems with the peperomia plus by aloe and jade props. The succulents have spent the last five months outside in my shaded backyard and they will likely remain there for another month or two more. I think that the higher light and harsher conditions helped to harden off my babies and I'm hoping has made them much more resilient. I intend to pick one of my three jade babies to keep and see if anybody wants the other two. Grow light space is going to be at a premium.

The only thing in water at the moment is the NOID cane begonia that I picked up right before I went on vacation. The prop was on more than a foot of cane and I wanted a more compact plant so I chopped the plants at the tops and am now rooting 12 top cuts and the canes by themselves. In other words, some people are getting begonias for Christmas this year.

I'm working on figuring out what types of plants I want to care for. There are a few plants that my partner is attached to that I'm keeping, but otherwise, I'm being very intentional and trying to find and keep plants that my house and I get along well with.

So far my favorite genius is Hoya though Scindapsus and Bogonia are in the running. My favorite plant during the month of August is my Begonia Flamingo Queen who has been producing an amazing display of salmony blooms all month long. The runner-up is my newest African violet who also bloomed for the first time (she's bright pink and has ruffly flowers!). You might sense a theme there.

My favorite non-flowering plant this month is my Hoya carnosa Krimson Queen because I love watching its leaves emerge with gorgeous variegation.

The growing season has treated my plants very well this year.

Without accounting for the two mature Golden Pothos in my care, the plants with the most growth were my Begonia Flamingo Queen, my Cebu Blue, and my NOID Hoya whose new growth started turning red this month (it wasn't red earlier in the summer?).

The height of the summer has past us now and it is already starting to cool down some at night. My plants get better light in the spring and in the fall so we're going into ideal sun positions but the plants will lose the high temps that they've been enjoying. The humidity tends to stay high through most of Autumn here, so hopefully they will get that for a bit longer, too.

Winter is coming. It's being predicted to be a cold and wet one for us here in the Northeast. I know that I need to acquire at least one more set of grow lights as my taller plants can't fit on the plant stand anymore. I think that I know what I am going to do and I can share more details once I've completed the project if people are interested.

I also need to plan to bring the houseplants that have been living outside all summer back in. I'm very paranoid about bugs so each plant is going to keep a thorough pest treatment and I have a quarantine zone, so that SHOULD be worked out.

The snakes have their own zone of the house anyway, so I'm not concerned so much about them but all my other succulents need to go back onto the top shelf of the plant altar. I think that there's enough space on my plant stand plus the northeast corner of my living room to get grow lights on all of my plants but...we will see.

This winter's other experiment will be to see whether I can grow golden pothos in my Northern windows. (I live pretty far north so in the dark times they get very little light) I'm also training of the two to grow up my walls so we'll see how that goes.

My easiest plants are the snakes and the dragons (Sansaveria and Dracaena). My highest maintenance plant is my Flaming Queen because she's been thirsty and dropping flowers constantly. My cheekiest plant is my NOID Hoya which grew a tendril away from the grow light and onto the shelf above where I keep my witch supplies. The best variegated leaf goes to my Hoya australis Lisa. The best green leaf goes to my NOID Hoya.

I have spent $110 on houseplants this year. The most expensive houseplant I bought was a Philodendron painted lady that I bought at a reasonably mature size for $25. The least expensive plant I bought was the Dragonfruit cactus which I got for $4 by using a coupon.

I bought seven houseplants and traded for or otherwise acquired another 14 cuttings on top of that.

I'm feeling pretty full on houseplants just for space reasons. Eventually, all of my Epiprenum and my Scindapsus should be mature enough to hang in my windows but until then, some of them need to vie for table space. A woman to whom I just gave a Rosa rugosa bush said she might drop me off a cutting from her Hoya, but, otherwise, I might be done for this growing season.

My goals for the year were: vines for days, harden off the jades, rehab the aloe, Grandfather cactus, growth on the Krimson Queen, to propagate the Monstera and the Peperomia, and to get more comfortable with watering. I'm feeling pretty good about all of these things.

*I am not counting either of the two avocado pits that I am trying to root since neither has any progress yet

[ymiwritesstuff]

The Limits of a Hero

Hello hello, I’m here to bring you something rather special. A quick fun fact: When I started writing years ago, Link was actually the first character I ever wrote for, so this piece is sort of going back to my roots as a writer. That, and I’ve been in a HUGE Twilight Princess mood lately, (I recently bought a few volumes of the manga and I am very much enjoying it) so I thought I’d write this quick thing for my favorite incarnation of Link. I hope those of you who also like him will enjoy this.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Link x Reader

Summary: During a seemingly ordinary night out in the woods you decide to give the hero a much needed chance to rest.

Notes: Fluff, some light angst

The tree trunk felt rough against your back, but it provided a much-needed opportunity to finally rest and recollect your energy after yet another day of fighting against the twilight and its corrupt ruler. Yet you found a strange calm when surrounded by the night, the warm flames of the campfire swaying in the cool wind.

The wood crackled, the breeze howled and your eyelids grew heavy. You wouldn’t close them, however. Not yet. Instead, you kept your (E/C) eyes on the glowing fire, occasionally throwing in a stick or two to make sure your source of heat wouldn’t disappear.

Your thoughts wandered, as they often did ever since you were thrown into this dangerous adventure. How did everything change so fast? You could still hear the water trickling down the waterwheel in Ordon as if it was yesterday. Everything had gone wrong so fast, and now you were trying to save the entire kingdom from something you didn’t fully understand.

You knew it was the same for Link. But unlike you, he was much better at suppressing his confusion and doubts. You had noticed a change in him, no doubt caused by the sudden responsibility laid upon his broad shoulders. In addition to the more obvious changes in his attire, his cerulean eyes lost some of their glow, he somehow grew even more silent and he didn’t smile as often. All because he felt that his role as the hero chosen by the Gods demanded it.

It must have been tiring, you thought, yet he pressed on, never once letting even a single mention of how much it all weighed down on him slip from his lips. But you could see it. Whether it was in the way his shoulders fell with a sigh whenever he finished slaughtering a group of Bokoblins or how he yawned and stretched his arms almost every time he hopped off Epona. His body was fatigued, but his eyes held nothing but determination.

The rustling of leaves that came from behind snapped you back to reality, and your eyes fell on the bush where the grey animal soon emerged from, carrying something in his mouth the edges of which and a part of his lower body was seemingly damp. You watched as he walked with heavy steps towards the fire before dropping the thing you recognized to be a Hyrule Bass on the ground.

The fish flopped on the dirt and you found yourself raising a confused eyebrow at him, before locating his fishing rod not too far away from the fire, indicating that he had forgotten to take it with him. You looked at the fish again.

“Are we this desperate?” You managed to ask him as his beastly form quickly reverted to his original form you were familiar with. He sat on the ground and gave you a slight nod.

“We’re running low on food,” he said, taking a sip from his bottle of water. Most of his equipment was laying on the ground, though he was still fully clad in his green tunic, chainmail and all.

You noticed him taking out a small knife, no doubt intending to use it to prepare the freshly caught fish. He would not dare use his sacred sword for such a task. The bass was fairly big, enough for both of you, you surmised.

“I can take care of it,” you offered, noticing the tired look in his eyes as they turned to you. He shook his head lightly.

“It’s fine, (Name),” he assured and began cutting into the flesh, but you persisted.

“You haven’t slept properly in days.” It had been an exhausting few days, filled to the brim with battles against Shadow Beasts and other enemies. It took its toll on both of you yet he showed no outward signs of fatigue. Not that it was necessary, for right now, anyone could see the dark circles and bags under his otherwise gorgeous eyes.

He glanced at you, clearly pondering over your words while continuing to cut the fish. You were right, as you often were. He was exhausted, but the selflessness in him didn’t want you to lose any of the sleep you needed.

“Someone has to keep watch,” he began, but you quickly shut him down.

“Which I can do.”

You scooted over to him, noticing him making the final cuts to the scaly flesh of the fish. Placing a hand on top of his, you kept your eyes on him, trying to convince him.

“You need to rest, Link. Please.”

Upon hearing your voice that left your lips as a quiet plea he finally gave in, letting out a sigh that carried all his exhaustion into the air and letting go of the knife. He finally turned to you, his drained eyes glowing in silent relief.

“Will you be alright? You know you can wake me up any time if-”

“I’ll be fine. The only thing you need to worry about is getting some sleep.”

Your hand reached up to slowly remove his cap, exposing his dirty blond hair that bathed in the glowing embers of the campfire. You offered him a smile equally warm as the flames which he thankfully returned.

Planting the tiniest kiss on his cheek, you retreated from him, once again leaning against a lone tree. With your hand you lightly patted your lap, wanting the hero in front of you to have the best possible chance at getting a good night’s rest.

He laid his weary head on your lap and almost immediately, he let out a long yawn that indicated just how much he needed this, despite his stubborn protests. Your fingers found their way into his hair, running through his locks in a soothing manner.

Silence fell around you, though it was a refreshing change from the usual noises of battle and struggles. You stared at the fire once again, its welcoming warmth enveloping both of you.

“You’ve changed,” you admitted, thinking back to the simpler times, during which Link would have been more than compliant to sleep when he needed it. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes glued to the starlit sky above.

“I guess I have,” he agreed. You wondered if he meant it to the same degree as you did. Even now, you noticed the solemn expression on his face you had never seen back home.

Home. You thought about it a lot. Maybe a little too much at times. Ordon meant a lot to you, even more to Link you assumed. Perhaps that’s why he had gotten so stoic and serious. He was merely trying to protect what he held dear.

It was admirable, he was, by all accounts, a hero. Courageous, selfless, strong, yet still a mere Hylian. A capable Hylian indeed, but still a Hylian. A Hylian who the entire kingdom needed to save them. Everyone expected so much of him, it seemed as if he himself forgot his limits.

“You’re not all-powerful, Link.”

Your eyes fell on him, and his own looked up at you. Someone needed to be his voice of reason, and you were more than willing to take that role if it meant ensuring his safety when he sometimes couldn’t.

“Maybe I should be.”

Your eyebrows frowned at that. You knew he felt a certain sense of guilt about what happened to the children of the village. They were safe now, but there was a stinging sensation of shame embedded in him that made him feel responsible for all of it.

“Don’t say that. You did all you could. Pushing yourself to the point where you can’t stay up anymore won’t solve anything.”

He knew you were right. You almost always were. Link had always secretly wondered if it was a blessing that it was you who had accidentally stumbled across the same wall of Twilight that had transformed him into a beast. In all honesty, he was thankful.

“I’m just... Worried about you,” you confessed, feeling a small sense of dread in the core of your being. Just thinking about what could happen to him if he didn’t take care of himself made your stomach churn.

A troubled look fell on his face, as if he was feeling guilty about making your eyes fill with concern. You inhaled deeply and pressed your lips on his forehead, not wanting your own uneasiness make him anxious.

“Rest now. I’ll keep watch.”

With a small nod, he allowed his heavy eyelids to close and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth that was partially agape.

For the first time in days, he looked truly peaceful. His body relaxed, rid of any signs of stress or tension, the only movement being that of his chest, moving up and down due to his steady breathing. With a smile you continued running your digits through his hair, hoping to comfort him even in his dreams you could only hope were as tranquil as your current surroundings.

“Goodnight, Link.”

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 4)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, angst

Part Summary: You wake up at the Chateau in JJ’s arms. When you receive a urgent call from Topper, you return to the Figure 8, much to JJ’s dismay. 

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of a faint buzzing. A small groan leaves your throat as you attempt to stretch out your limbs, but are trapped beneath the weight of an arm. Your eyes flicker open and adjust to the golden rays pouring in from the window. JJ doesn't even shift, completely unaware of your moving. You recognize the sound of your phone buzzing and dig around the recliner. You two must've fallen asleep during the movie. Kiara and Pope remain on the floor, sprawled out like starfish. The couch is empty, John B and Sarah are probably in his room. You finally manage to find your phone beneath JJ's hip. You do your best to slide it out without waking him. Slowly, you climb out of the chair, placing JJ's arm down gently. 

“Hello?” You whisper, suppressing a yawn as you step out to the porch to not wake the others. 

“Hey, Princess," Topper's worried voice echoes through the device. "Did I wake you?”

 You settle down on the couch in a ball, shaking your head as if Topper can see you. “No, No, it’s okay," you lie for his sake. "Is everything alright?” 

“It’s Rafe..." he sighs. "He kinda got outta hand last night and he hasn’t been to bed yet. He keeps saying he’s going to go to your house. I don’t think your parents should see him like this.” 

“What?" Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Slowly, the events of last night are creeping back to you. You remember all of it, but some parts are only flashes like photographs. "I’m not even home.” 

“Wait, where are you then?” Topper questions, sounding just as confused as you. 

“I uh... I stayed at Sarah's," you conjure up on a whim. 

“Okay..." he replies, not sounding fully convinced. "well do you think you could stop by my place or something? Rafe won’t shut up until he sees you. Thank God my mom left for Atlanta this morning. I can pick you up if you need.” 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll uh... I’ll borrow Sarah’s car or something. I’ll text you when I’m on my way," you determine. 

“Okay, see you then," Topper agrees, hanging up the phone. 

You drop the device in your lap, resting your forehead against your knees. None of this feels real. What are you even doing here? One minute you and Topper are stumbling out of the locker room and the next you're making out with JJ in a hammock. Holy shit, you made out with JJ in a hammock! Topper is going to kill you! He can't know. No, he can never know. 

“Morning Baby," JJ greets as he steps out onto the porch. He rubs his eyes as he walks over to join you. 

“Morning, sorry that I woke you up,” you apologize. 

"Don't be." He plops down next to you, bringing his arm to rest between your tucked legs. His hand is warm against your exposed knee. A part of you wants to cling to him like a koala, but your mind is also on Topper. "Who was that?” He yawns. 

“Topper," you answer truthfully, though it was hesitant. "Apparently, Rafe is acting out and keeps asking for me. I’m gonna head over there to calm him down a little." 

“Wait, what!" JJ's eyes widen, processing what you said. "By yourself?” 

“JJ, it’s okay! It’s just Topper and Rafe,” you snicker at his dramatic reaction. 

“Yeah! Rafe!" He repeats, turning his body toward you. His arm between your legs moves to your back and is replaced with his free one. "The guy who gave you laced weed, Babe!" 

Your lower lip pouts slightly as you're appreciative of his concern though it's not necessary. Impulsively, you bring your hand to his cheek and he leans into your touch subtly. “It’ll be fine, we’re not going to do anything. I’m just helping out Top. Once we get Rafe to chill I’ll be out of there.” 

“I’m driving,” he names his terms sternly. 

Your lips part as worry starts to build up inside you. “JJ, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I-“ 

“I wasn’t asking," he cuts you off sharply, his lips pressed together. “Either I go with you and wait in the car or you don’t go at all," he offers an ultimatum. 

'Okay, that's hot,' you think to yourself. 

You sit stunned for a second. As much as you hate the name, you're still the Princess of the OBX, no one talks to you like that or gives you ultimatums. Yet, you can't help but be utterly compliant when it comes to JJ Maybank. 

“Okay," you nod, trying your hardest to not blush, but ultimately fail. "As long as there’s no Pogue vs. Kook fistfights," you add to the rules. 

JJ notices your eyes wandering to his lips and leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t make any promises.” 

You grin as JJ brushes his lips against yours, bringing you in for a kiss. When he woke up JJ was nervous that he fucked up last night and that you'd regretted everything. It's just JJ always assuming the worst to avoid disappointment. His arm on you was him testing the waters. After a second, once learning that you're not going to pull away, he deepens the kiss. Your fingers comb through his luscious hair and grip the roots slightly. His hand on your knee steadily glides down your skin, moving between your legs. 

"Oh no!" You gasp against his lips, realizing something. 

JJ jumps, breaking his lips from yours and flying his hands off. “Woah, what! Sorry!” He thought maybe his hand may have set you off or something. He’s not sure what your boundaries are or anything, everything is still so new. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes!" You tell him. 

“Jesus," he rolls his eyes, finally able to breathe again. "Wear my shirt you’re wearing,” he gestures to the black AC/DC shirt hanging on you. 

You raise your eyebrows. “And have them start a fight? No way! They'll know it’s not mine," you explain stressfully. 

"You're right, tell them it's your boyfriend's and to mind their own damn business," JJ determines with a carefree shrug. Only after a couple seconds does he process that he called himself your boyfriend, having not discussed that yet. 

You raise your brows at his remark. A faint laugh escapes you, as if that would go over well with the boys. “As much as I would love to, I don’t think that would go well considering Rafe is already losing his mind.” 

A rush of relief consumes JJ when you don’t reject him. In fact, he’s over the moon when you don’t deny that he’s indeed your boyfriend. 

“So..." JJ drags out, gliding your fingers up and down your thigh. "Did you give Topper a specific time?” 

“No, just that I’d be over as soon as possible." You smirk, already knowing what he's thinking. "Why?” 

"Because if I remember correctly," he purrs into your ear with a smirk. "We were rudely interrupted last night..."

 As much as you'd love to do what JJ has in mind, you owe it to Topper to show up at a decent time. "We have the rest of the day for that," you move back a little, much to JJ's disappointment. He groans, making you giggle. "If Rafe acts up any more than he already has and goes to my house I'm royally screwed." 

"Okay, fine! Fine!" He rises up from the couch and offering you a hand. "But I'm holding you to your word! I expect full tomfoolery later!" 

"Deal." You lean in and plant a peck to his lips, making him blush. 

JJ grabs the keys to the Twinkie while you wait outside. You go over the plan multiple times on the way over, mainly to ease your nerves. JJ will park a few yards down the road, hidden behind the hedges that line Topper's yard. You will tell Topper that Sarah dropped you off and that you'll walk home because you live a few blocks away. Checking on Rafe will only take twenty minutes tops, but you're aiming for fifteen. You've done this before, taking care of Rafe. Get sick, chug Pedialyte, have Mcdonald's delivered, and put him to bed. 

You text Topper as soon as you're on your side of the island. 

Heading over now! 

A minute later, you receive a response. 

Awesome! See you soon! Thanks again Y/N/N. Owe you one! 

JJ does exactly as planned, making sure the Twinkie can't be seen from Topper's house. Reluctantly, he lets you out without him. He warns though that if you don't text him or give him some sign that you're okay within the ten-minute time slot he's given that he'll come in after you. You promise that you'll text him a smiley face as soon as you get the chance. 

You knock on Topper's front door a few times and wait for the tall boy to answer. After a few minutes you call for your friends. "Top! Rafe!" 

"I don't want you! I want Y/N!" You hear from the backyard and make your way back. 

"She's on her way!" Topper shouts. 

"Dude! Just sit down!" You hear Kelce add. 

"Guys?" You pop your head around the corner and find Rafe standing on the edge of Topper's pool, fully clothed in his suit from the night before. 

"Y/N! Finally!" Rafe gleams, gripping a bottle of champagne in his hand. 

"Thank God," Topper grumbles to himself as he approaches you. "Thanks again for coming," he greets with a kiss to your temple. 

"Of course," you smile as you move toward Kelce. You give him a quick side hug as you greet everyone. "When did you get here?" 

"About five minutes ago," he answers, breathless from trying to keep Rafe from jumping in. "Apparently I'm not good enough because he keeps asking for you." 

"Hey, Rafe, what's up?" You call over to the boy as stumbles over to you. 

"Geez, you are the most gorgeous girl in the OBX," he grins. 

"Oh am I now? What have you been up to?" You asking, knowing the answer. He smells of weed, sweat, and stale alcohol. His suit will no doubt need some serious dry cleaning. 

"Eh, nothing too exciting," he waves his hand and places an arm over your shoulder. "After you disappeared from the party the boys and I went back to do a few more lines. It wasn't as fun without you. Where did you go anyway? We looked all over for you." 

JJ crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He repeats as if you didn't explain it before on the phone. 

You frown at your best friend. Why is he acting like that? "Sarah convinced her parents to give her the car and she took me to her house while her parents were are the party," you repeat the story you rehearsed with JJ. 

"But Sarah was still at the party after we lost you. She told your parents that you left..." Topper replies slowly, almost as though he's accusing you of something. 

"Yeah, I was waiting in the car," you answer without hesitation. 

"Right..." Topper nods with narrowed eyes. 

You roll your eyes at Topper and bring your arm around Rafe. "Let's get you inside." 

"I wanted to go for a swim," Rafe whines. 

"That sounds so fun," you pretend, silently begging him to go inside without any retaliation. "Sadly, I didn't bring my suit." 

"Come on, Y/N, it's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before," Rafe chuckles as you cross the threshold of the sliding door. 

"Nice, Rafe," Topper sarcastically remarks. 

"Oh no, I think I'm gonna be sick," Rafe coughs, hutching over next to you. 

 "I got this one," Kelce shouts, moving to get his friend toward the bathroom. 

Now that Rafe is inside and in the "get sick" stage, you move on to ordering him McDonald's. Knowing Topper's house like the back of your hand, you walk into the kitchen, leaving the boy in the living room. You hop onto the counter, your legs dangle over the edge. As you tap through your phone, Topper enters the room. 

"Are you feeling better?" He checks on you with a smile, a complete 180 from the attitude he was giving you minutes before. "I was out of it but I vaguely remember us stumbling out of the locker room," he chuckles. 

"Yeah we kinda went a little too far last night," you giggle, recalling the memory. "But I feel much better." 

Topper nods, offering you a faint smirk. He parts your legs, resting his palms on your thighs. "I'm surprised Ward let you and Sarah take his new Porsche considering he won't even let Rose drive it." 

Your heart races, shit. You didn't realize Ward took the Porsche to the party. When Sarah got to John B's she was in a BMW. 

"He must've had a lot of whiskey or something," you ramble out. 

The boy nods, bringing his hands to your hips. "Interesting... and-" Topper scrunches his brows together, glancing down at your body. "What are you wearing right now?" 

Shit. 

"It's uh... Sarah's," you blurt out what JJ said before you can think it through. 

"Sarah owns a ripped-up AC/DC shirt?" Topper snickers, not believing you for a second. 

"What? You don't?" You try to play it off. 

"Did you end up borrowing Sarah's car?" He changes the subject quickly, making your furrow your brows. 

"She dropped me off," you stick to your story. 

"That's nice of her," Topper comments, stepping closer to you. Usually, you'd like having him so close, but there's an underlying tension between you that makes you anxious. 

"For sure," you mutter, avoiding his gaze. 

"So you need a ride home?" He offers. 

"Nah, it's okay. I'll walk," you rush out. 

Topper brings his hand to the collar of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your collar bone to rest on the side of your neck. "I kinda needed to see your brother anyway." 

You swallow hard, trying to remain calm. "For what?" 

"We're supposed to go out to the course later," he matches your quiet tone. 

"Cool," you nod faintly, starring down at your lap. 

"You and that Pogue seemed friendly last night before I came over... " Topper insinuates. 

Your head snaps up, meeting Topper's burning gaze. "Pogue? What Pogue?" 

"The one bartending," he snickers mockingly. 

"The blonde kid? Oh, not really," your brows scrunch together, nervously fidgeting with your phone case. "I only met him last night, didn't even catch his name," you lie. 

Topper tilts his head to the side. "Isn't he friends with John B? He's been around the Cameron's place a few times." 

"I haven't noticed," you shrug.

You can't tell whether he believes you or not. His stern expression never wavering. You feel trapped with his hands gripping your hips. 

"He's certainly noticed you, hasn't he?" The boy remarks with a wicked smirk as he stares at your lips. 

You shift your head back, taken aback by his words. "What does that mean?" 

"Oh come on, Y/N," Topper mutters your name, not one of his usual nicknames. "You're telling me you didn't notice him looking you up and down? It's why I came over to the bar after your dance with Rafe. I already had a full whiskey on the table." 

You snicker at the information, utterly amazed by the lengths Topper will go. "You ordered a drink just because you thought JJ was "too friendly" with me?" 

Topper narrows his eyes at you curiously. "I thought you didn't know his name?" 

Chills course over your skin as your breath hitches in your throat. Now, you remember that you haven't texted JJ and you're not sure how long it's been. 

"You want to tell me what's really going on, Y/N?" Topper presses. 

"Nothing's happening! I've gotta go," you snap, pressing a hand to his chest to urge him off of you. 

Topper grabs your wrist, removing your hand from him. Abruptly, he slams his lips to yours. Desprately, he brings his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. 

"Get-" you mutter against his lips as you try to fight him off. Instinctively you punch him in the chest, causing him to break from you. "Get off of me!" You gasp, hopping down from the counter as Topper stumbles back. "What the hell Topper!" 

His eyes grow wide, comprehending what he's done. He reches for you, but you cower away. "Y/N, I-" 

"No!" Your voice cracks as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. "You don't just get to do that whenever you feel like it! I'm not at your disposal when you want me!" 

He nods frantically. "I know that! I didn't-" 

"Ugh, whatever Top. I'm tired of this interrogation! You and Kelce can babysit Rafe without me!" You wave your hands as your march out of the room toward the front door. 

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Topper calls after you. "Y/N!" 

He follows you out the front door to the driveway in a panic. He can't believe he just kissed you, the one thing he swore he'd never do without your permission. He was just so desperate. He could feel you moving away from him and was panicking that maybe you were keeping something from him. 

"Y/N!" Topper wraps his fingers around your wrist. 

You yank your arm free as you spin on your heels to face him. "Don't grab me!" 

"Don't walk out on me!" He barks, instantly regretting it. 

Topper knows this isn't the way to get to you, but he's just so worried that you're slipping away. This wouldn't be the first time you two have fought this way, having it out in front of one of your houses. Similar to an old married couple, you two fight as passionately as you love each other. 

"You don't own me, Topper!" You remind the boy. 

"I'm just looking out for you!" He reasons in a shot. 

"You're the one who's acting like my dad right now!" You scoff. 

"Oh!" He laughs mockingly. "Is that what being an overbearing friend is called now?" 

You huff, turning over your shoulder to continue down the driveway. 

Topper stays where he is, yelling at you as your march away. "You know what, fine! Don't tell me what's going on! I just thought we were closer than that! I must've misunderstood all of last year, all of those late-night conversations and that weekend in Bermuda or all of winter break!" 

"Oh, my lord!" You groan, tossing your head back as you stop in your tracks. "Stop being so dramatic!" 

"What's he doing here?" Topper questions, his volume at a normal level. 

You frown, following his eyes as they linger behind you. Turning over your shoulder, you spot JJ standing at the end of the driveway. 

You hide your face in your hands. "Oh, Jesus-" 

"You have to be kidding me!" Topper shouts with a chuckle of frustration. 

"JJ, can you give us a minute?" You request calmly, giving the blonde a weak smile. 

"You brought him! You bring a Pogue!" Topper can't help but laugh, shocked by how this day has gone to complete shit in a span of fifteen minutes. 

Nervously, you rush over to Topper, pressing your hands to his chest. "Top, just go inside, okay!" You try your best to keep the situation civil. "I'll be inside in a minute-" 

"You're on the wrong side of the island, Pogue!" He points to JJ over his shoulder. 

"Just stick a cork in it, Prince Charming," JJ bites back from his spot. 

You huff, using all your strength to push a stubborn Topper toward the front door. He towers over you and is much stronger than you, so it's a tall task. 

"Prince Charming? Really!" Topper laughs. "Wow, got a real smartass here, Princess," he tells you. 

"Just for the love of all that good and holy go inside!" You beg of him with a grunt as you continue to guide him inch by inch. 

"Not until you get this trailer park trash off my driveway!" Topper bitterly remarks, loud enough for JJ to hear. 

"JJ and I will go as soon as we're done here," you tell him calmly with a huff, giving up on moving him. 

You step back, preparing to leave, but Topper grips your forearms. "No way you're leaving with him! No, you're staying here with us!" 

When Topper grabs you, JJ loses all cool and storms toward your friend. "Touch her again and I'll kick your ass, Kook!" JJ likes to think he's been rather rational and on his best behavior up until this point considering Topper is treating you as his property. 

"JJ! Don't!" You intercept the boy and though he could easily move you aside, he remains in your arms. 

"As if I'd leave her with your tripped-out friend and cluster of misogynistic asshole!" He points at Topper aggressively. 

"You don't know a thing about us, Pogue!" Topper pushes. 

"Topper! Enough! JJ back off!" You instruct sharply. 

With a growl, JJ walks back down the driveway, refusing to turn his back on the Kook. Cooling down slowly, he takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he leads you toward the sidewalk. 

"You leave with him now and we're done!" Topper declares, making you stop in your tracks. "I mean it! You leave now and you're a Pogue!" 

"You don't mean that," you shake your head in disbelief. 

He laughs wickedly, "I promise you I do! It's them or us! You can't have both, Y/N!" 

It feels as though Topper has sucked all life from you. The light that he's kept going inside of you for so long has burned out. He's been your reason to be happy since you were kids and now he's threatening to desert you forever. All because you're falling for a Pogue. 

Kelce and Rafe appear in the archway of the front door. Kelce frowns, "what's going on out here?" 

"What's that Pogue doing here?"  Rafe questions. He sees your grieving expression and his wild antics become a distant memory. "Y/N?" 

You swallow hard, clenching your jaw in disgust at the Kook you once called your best friend. "Ask Topper!" 

You yank your hand free of JJ's and run down the driveway in the direction of the Twinkie. JJ jogs after you worriedly. He unlocks the car and you rush to get in. As soon as you sit down, you hunch over in your seat, your head cradled in your hands. JJ climbs in next to you and starts the car. He glances over at you and a wave of guilt consumes. He can't help but think this is all his fault. If he hadn't gone to check on you, maybe Topper wouldn't have said what he did. You wouldn't be devastated and you'd acknowledge his presence. 

JJ places a hand on your back. "Baby-" 

Before JJ can finish you cower away from him, moving your body toward the window. His heart drops as a million worst-case scenarios start to play in his mind. You hate him. You hate him now because he cost you, Topper. Of course, he already thought about what it would mean if you had to choose between him or Topper. He just had a naive inkling of hope that maybe you'd choose him and be okay, be happier with him. Now, he realizes by your disgust of him that you would've chosen Topper if Topper didn't push you toward JJ. 

_________________________________

The ride back to John B's is painfully silent. JJ had to turn on the radio five minutes in to drown out the overwhelming self-deprecating thoughts ringing in his mind. As soon as JJ rolls up to the end of the gravel driveway, you see the Pogues and Sarah gathered around the old bonfire eating breakfast. Not wanting to see them, you hop out, the car not even in park yet. 

"Hey guys! Where have-" Sarah stops as she sees you run into the house. JJ climbs out of the van and slams the door shut, grumbling various cuss words to himself. "What's wrong with Y/N?" Sarah asks him once he's closer to the group. 

"Topper called her this morning," the boy answers, pressing his lips together as he sits on an empty log. "Your brother was acting up and wouldn't chill out until he saw her. Long story short, I fucked up and intervened when things got tense with her and Topper," JJ hisses, clasping his hands together. "Topper told her that if she left with me that they wouldn't talk to her again so we left..." 

The group is silent, exchanging worried glances. Sarah's jaw is nearly in the dirt. She never thought in a million years that Topper would ever say those words to you. JJ's knee shakes up and down as he hides his head above his knees.  He rises to his feet, picking up an empty can from last night, and chucks it into the words with all his strength. "Y/N won't even fucking look at me!"

"That's not your fault, JJ," Kiara assures her friend, breaking the silence. "You did the right thing! Topper is a jerk!" 

"She'll come around. It's probably for the best that she's cut off from them. Those guys aren't good for her," Sarah adds. 

JJ exhales deeply, facing Sarah. "Do you know what happened last year or in Bermuda and Topper said something about winter break?" 

"Oh..." the girl's face falls. 

"What is it? Is it bad?" John B asks from beside her. 

"Not exactly. Topper and Y/N... Well..." she struggles to come up with the right words. 

You and Topper struggle to navigate your way through the pitch-black bungalow. You two have just gotten dropped off from the cantina in town. Half an hour before, Topper was doing body shots off of you. The boy leads you through the house, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Through the moonlight, you notice a pillar right in Topper's path. 

“Watch out!” You gasp, tugging Topper back. 

“Oh shit!” He stumbles into you, pinning you against the wall. 

“I told you to watch out!” You giggle and peek around the corner into the living room. “Oh my god!” Your hand flies up to your mouth. 

“What! What is it?” Topper rushes out. 

“Rafe and that girl from Brazil,” you whisper, suppressing your laughter. 

“No way! You’re kidding!” Through the darkness, you can see Topper's eye grow wide as he steps to the side to see around the corner. 

“On the couch!” You instruct drunkenly. 

“Did they?” He wonders. 

“I have no idea!” You giggle. 

“Holy shit!” Topper laughs as he returns to stand in front of you. 

“He was blasted tonight,” you remember. “Poor Kelce went to bed as soon as we got back." 

“I didn’t mind it,” Topper mutters, gliding his fingertips up and down your arm. “Kinda liked it being just us...” 

“Topper,” you whisper his name warningly, a smile on your lips. 

“What?” He chuckles lightly, leaning in closer to you. 

You shake your head, finding it hard not to blush. “We broke up almost a year ago. You and Sarah-“ 

“Are broken up," he finishes. 

“Yeah, and remember how devastated you were no more than two weeks ago?" You try to reason with him. "You still need to heel and figure out what you want.” 

“I want you," he whispers, brushing lips against yours. 

“Top, I don’t think-“ 

Before you can finish, he kisses you softly. It's not the first time and you know in the back of your mind it likely won't be the last. 

“You’re all I think about, Y/N,” he confesses against your lips. “I need to feel you again. I miss the way you taste.” 

“Top...” You mutter breathlessly. 

You shake your head, despite not stopping him. “We shouldn’t...” 

“We deserve to, don’t we? After everything?" He reasons, tucking his fingers over the band of your panties. "You like me and I like you, we’re both single, there’s history, why can’t we?” 

A million reasons cross your mind, the most important one, your friendship. You and Topper have always been complicated. Things get worse when you add sex to the mix, which is exactly why you two formed boundaries a while back. Then again, you two toss those boundaries out the window every time you drink too much. 

One hand remains on your waist as the other slips down to the hem of your dress. His warm fingertips glide under the fabric, against your thigh. “Don’t you miss it? How we used to be? When we couldn’t get enough of each other," he smirks as a memory pops into his head that he's certain will get to you. “Our ski trip over Christmas.” 

“Okay yeah, you win," you rush out, instantly pressing your lips to his desperately. 

Topper snickers against your lips as he tucks his hands behind your legs and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist he just so happens to know effortlessly the direction to his room now. Though he was completely lost minutes before. 

"They dated!" Pope's jaw nearly hits the gravel. 

"No way!" John B wears a similar expression. 

"Yes and no. It's more complicated than that," Sarah tries to explain 

Kiara struggles to piece together the picture. "But I thought you two-" 

"They were friends with benefits before we were dating. Then, when Topper and I started dating, they stopped. Topper and I took a break in the winter and they started up again but stopped after Y/N decided that she couldn't do it anymore. Finally, they all went to Bermuda for a week after Midsummers. They didn't plan on anything happening, according to Y/N, but it kinda just did. They've always had "a thing" for each other. It's only ever been a fling though," Sarah finally manages to lay out the hectic story. 

"And you're okay with that?" Kiara frowns, wondering how Sarah fits into all of that. 

"Nothing happened while we were together," she shrugs but is certain of her words. "I know without a doubt that Y/N would never do that to me. Plus, it was never dating-like... it was more hook-up-ish if that makes sense?" 

"This is insane!" JJ finally voices his perspective, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. 

"I need a diagram," Pope adds. 

"Wait, so Topper and Y/N are on-and-off again. Meanwhile, Rafe has a thing for Y/N. Does Kelce play a role in any of this?" John B brings up a good point. 

Sarah shakes her head. "Not that I know of." 

"That's one fucked up love triangle," Pope releases a pent-up sigh. 

"This is why we have the "no Pogue-on-Pogue macking" rule. That friend group is a mess!" Kiara reasons. 

"Topper and Y/N have always been super close," Sarah describes solemnly considering the recent turn of events. "She must be devastated! Even if he is an ass. He's only ever been good to Y/N. I was low-key jealous of her when I first started seeing Topper. He holds her up on this pedestal," she admits. 

Suddenly, the screendoor creaks, making everyone turn their attention toward the house. Y/N marches out, back in her dress from last night. 

John B breaks the silence. "Hey Y/N! Where are you-" 

"Sarah, can you drive me home?" You ignore the boy on your way to Sarah's car, unlocking it. 

Sarah stands slowly from her position. "Sure, but don't you-" 

"Thanks!" You cut her off, already climbing into the passenger seat and putting the keys into the ignition. 

"I'll... I'll be back later," Sarah stammers in confusion to her friends. 

Everyone watches as Sarah back out of the driveway then turns their focus to a devastated JJ. 

"I fucked it up. I fucked it up!" He screams, squeezes his hands into fists until his knuckles are white. 

"JJ, it's okay! She probably just needs a minute," Kiara rushes out. 

"I have her for two seconds!" He bursts, his face becoming red with frustration. "Two fucking seconds and I ruined it just like I ruin everything else!" 

"Just give it time!" Pope tries to reason with him calmly. 

"Goddammit!" JJ curses before bolting toward the driveway and out of sight. 

"JJ!" His friends all call for him. 

 "JJ come back!" John B shouts to receive no response. "Well this day is officially shit," the boy huffs as he settles back down onto his log. 

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Kiara worries. 

"Hope so," John B whispers. 

After Sarah drops you off, you hide away in your room for the rest of the day. All you do is cry. You already miss Topper more than anything. You need him. You'll always need him. Then, on top of that, you're torturing yourself for how you treated JJ. None of this is his fault, but you treated him like it was. You cowered from him to keep from crying. You didn't want to scare him away, but in the process, you pushed him away. While you're losing your mind, JJ is losing his outside his dad's house with a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He's looking to pick a fight. He figures that if he's in pain physically that the pain he's inflicting on himself mentally will go away. You started the day wrapped up in each other and in bliss. You're ending it both in pain and willing to do anything to make it go away. 

________________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things @hockeybabe87​ 

[midday0nightmares]

31 - a week later.

Previous chapter a rat.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

3 days after.

“Jeno .. can I ask you something?” 

“Sure” he replied,

 jeno too has changed, he has become more caring towards you like he was stepping to fill jaemins place, while jaemin was occupied.

Jeno was more controlled, he didn’t show much, if you didn’t know what had happen you would have believed everything was fine.

“What’s gonna happen to me if..? You know” ,

you leave the questions unfinished, but jeno understands what you wanted to ask.

His mouth opens to speak but closes shut again, he takes a minute to think before he answers “I don’t know”.

His honesty although appreciated didn’t help at all.

 “but, I will do my best to make sure you’er taking care of” he reach to hold your hand over the table, gently squeezing it to reassure you.

.

.

.

5 days after.

You saw less and less of jaemin.

The stress of it all was getting to you too, you were agitated.. you blamed it all on jeno.

“Why don’t you just confess?”, 

your question was loaded with hostility.

He looked at you, a desperate look on his face, he told you over and over but still he tells you again,

”it’s complicated sera”.

You scoff, his answer seemed more like an excuse than a genuine answer. “what’s complicated? You did it, you are the one who should be facing life in prison not him” you pointed at jaemin’s closed door.

He exhales, his eyes close “you don’t know what you’er talking about”.

“You killed him!” You contain to argue but he gets up and leave, ending the conversation.

Tears of anger pooled in your eyes, this is another level of injustice. 

.

.

.

6 days after.

You were quietly munching on your cereal, jeno sat across form you sipping on his bitter coffee.

The mood was tense, unstable.

The neglected tv flashed a breaking news strip that caught your attention, it was about the murder in a diplomatic’s son house, “turn the volume up” you ushered jeno.

“.. it has been determined that the leased apartment falls under diplomatic amenity and no further investigations could be carried” 

You looked at jeno, “dose it mean that they’er closing the case?” You asked, carful not to get your hopes up, he remind quiet for a minute before he nods “ yup, I guess they are”.

You jumped out of your seat, squealing with happiness “yes! Yess thank god” you grabbed his arm to share the joy but he didn’t move.

He wasn’t happy, nor relieved.. he didn’t seems to feel any thing.

You top your small celebration, “what?” You asked.

“Nothing” he stood up ready to leave, “clean up when you’er done”.

he leaves you to your wild thoughts to run the worst case scenarios. 

.

.

.

Today

The week slowly rolled over with much tension and uncertainty, jaemin has been called to the police station couple more times, you swear each time he comes back, he has aged years.

You wanted to be by his side but he didn’t even look at you when you tried to call him this morning, if he’s not out then he’s locking himself in his room. you tried knocking on his door, to get him to at least eat a proper meal but he didn’t answer. Each attempt has been met with either complete silence or a sharp temper, he would lash at you then quickly apologize.

This is not how you wanted your first semester to begin, you attended the first week of your online classes but you couldn’t really focus on what has been said, not with a disaster hanging above your head ready to drop at any minute.

And as much as you wanted to blame it all on jeno, you couldn’t anymore. The case is closed, but why is jaemin still being investigated? Could it be because of you? Did the police knew you were taken? Was it your fault?.. you tossed and turned in your bed, it felt cold and empty without him, you missed him so much. After a long string of pillow thoughts, slumber finally took mercy over you.

“y\n..” 

An unfamiliar voice calls your name.

“y\n” 

the whisper gets louder, your body tip over and fall off of an edge to an endless darkness.. you jerk out of the nightmare, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

You clam yourself and push the heavy covers off of you, dragging your feet to the kitchen for some water, you don’t bother turning the lights on, you open the fridge door and take a bottle. The icy water clears the clouds in your mind only for the grim reality to take its place, jaemin might be taken away.. you dwell on the scary thought. 

You turn your head to see the lights of jaemins room were on, your heart clinches, he’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

Opting not bother him, you head back to your lonely bed, but the dark figure in the balcony almost gave you a heart attack.

You recognize the man, it’s jaemin.. his tall figure was standing in the dark, the phone was pressed to his ear, his demeanor was agitated, shifting his weight form one foot to the other, you couldn’t hear anything but you can tell he wasn’t happy.

You turn to see if jeno was in his room, his lights were off and his shoes were by the door. you always had the impression that they were close, partners in crime. they did all their nasty work together, but why is it only jaemin who is in this mess right now?.

“You can’t be serious !” 

Jaemin’s loud voice comes clear through the thick glass, his hand running through his hair seemingly wanting to rip it from the roots out of frustration. You can tell he was angry, desperate.. he keeps shouting but you can’t make out what he was saying. you step closer, as close as you can without being seen by him, you try to decipher his muffled voice,

 “I am your son! Your only son” 

you’er not sure if that’s what he said.. 

He speaks in a lower voice before he removes the phone from his ear, ending the call. He punches the wall next to him, he was beyond pissed.

You move to hide behind the curtain to avid angering him more, he opens the door and steps inside slamming the glass door behind him.

“I can see you” he deadpan says in the dark, since there’s no one other than you, he must be talking to you and you make the quick decision of coming out before he losses his temper. 

“Im sorry, I had a nightmare and I got up to drink wa..” You try to explain yourself but he waves his hand with not much care “Yeah yeah” and you stop talking.. he walks to his room, the dull city lights illuminating his backside, his shoulders were slumped, his back hunched with heavy burden, the sight of him broken made your heart twist inside your ribcage.

“Jaemin” you call him without a plane, he stops and looks at you, “Are you okay?”, stupid question.. 

Although it’s dark, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“Do I look okay?” He retorts,

You answered him with a small “no”

he turns to walk to his room but you speak again, “I can help you if you tell me what wrong”, bold statement.

He stops again and heavy sighs, your heart thumbs in your chest as you wait for him to speak, but all you get was a scoff, “why don’t you just know your place huh?” he asks with much condecindence, although you know he didn’t mean it, his words still hurts. 

“Just stay out of my way, you have done enough already” he adds more sharp words, twisting the planted knife in your heart.

“I just wanted to help you and be here for you” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it, but you chock and the tears starts to gather in your eyes, he huffs and looks up to the ceiling, impatiently waiting for you to recompose yourself. But his cold nonchalant demeanor triggers more eruptions inside of you.

 the words escapes your mouth before you have thought of them.. “all I wanted was to help you, but you keep me away form you! you don’t tell me anything, no one is telling me anything! I don’t know what is happing or if I will see you when wake up the next day” you rant through the sobs, your voice getting louder and louder, and when he was fed up with you he shuts you down with a loud scream “shut up”.

 Jeno comes out of his room, bewildered and alert.. he stands in the background watching the fight evolves.

“You are not my girlfriend” he walks towards you, making you feel small and insignificant, “I don’t own you anything” his tall stature looms over your short one, that cuts deep. 

you look at him, you stare into his eyes, challenging him to take what he said back but he doesn’t.

“Yeah?” Your voice barely comes out, “fine then I guess I have no reason to stay here anymore”. you turn and stomp to where your bed is to collect your few belongings, he follows behind, his steps shaking the ground beneath you.

“where the fuck do you think you’er doing?” He asks but you ignore him, more so you couldn’t speak due to the choking knot in your throat, but your lack or response angers him even more, he grabs your arm and turns you around with much force, that it almost dislocates your shoulder, you whimper at the pain but he doesn’t care, his grip tightening even more, his eyes glazed with a dark, sinister layer.

“Jaemin!” Jeno warns, but it does nothing as another screaming match breaks between you, with him asking you the same question, not really waiting for an answer, and you shouting whatever comes to your mind first, curses, accusation, anything to hurt him. you don’t know who started it first but hands were being thrown, jeno was trying to break you apart, but  eventually, jaemin overpowered you and threw you over his shoulder like a rag doll, your kicking and screaming did nothing against him.

 “Jaemin” jeno shouted at his friend who was in a trance, muttering the filthiest insults under his breath.

“Where are you going? Jaemin!” jeno tries to reason with him. at this point jaemin was like a robot, marching to his room, he kicks the door to his bedroom open, he slams you to his bed, knocking the wind out of you. 

“Jaemin! Calm down” jeno was trying to stop whatever jaemin was doing, he kneels and opens his safe, jeno’s voice getting louder, you were paralyzed with fear everything is happing so fast for your brain to form a response.

Jeno was trying to pry jaemin’s hands out of the safe, “come on! don’t do something you’ll regret”, jeno was almost begging him to stop.

jaemin finally broke out of his trance and turned to jeno “get out!”,

but jeno stood in his place like a pillar, his presence seems to clam jaemin, he takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back “I know what im doing” he speaks calmly this time before he turns back to you, you swallow the thick knot “jaemin please..” pleadings to spare your life were timid but loud enough to be heard, your body crawls as far away from him before the wall stops you.

He kneels down and reaches again inside the safe, for a second the time has stoped, everything moved in slow motion. 

He takes out a metal handcuffs out of the safe, the blood that was frozen in your vines moved again, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.. jeno does the same “fuck..” he must have thought the same, he too believed jaemin was about to kill you.

Your limbs fell weak and cold due to the withdrawal of the adrenaline that filled your bloodstream, you feel sick, dizzy.

The bed dips under jaemin’s weight next to you, your head falls back into his soft pillows, aimless tears rolls down your temples, you give him your hands to cuff. you are worn out, you surrender.

He takes both of your arms and cuffs them to the headboard of his bed, your eyes meet, you don’t look away and neither does he. He looks down at you.. his eyes pours inside of your soul.

Dark circles beneath his eyes, dry lips, heavy eyelids but still, still handsome as ever. he leans down to kiss your watery eyes, “for my sanity sake” he whispers between the kisses.

He throws his covers over you, and turns the lights off before he leaves and close the door behind him. 

[sanguinescorpios]

Still Alive

dream x f!reader

PART ONE

summary | Just under 20 years ago, the world slipped from humanity’s grasp and fell into the lap of mutant creatures. While most humans hid from the variants, some, like reader, grew restless in the bases they grew up in and needed out. What will happen when reader realizes that she doesn’t stand a chance in the wild on her own, and can something deeper blossom from a survival-based alliance? 

warnings | none!

word count | 1.7k

I had never seen a flower before. At least, not that I could remember. Things like that didn’t exist within the confines of the city walls, the beautiful, living things. The things that reminded you you were alive. My gaze fixated on the object before I even knew what I was looking at. Its petals swirled with pinks and purples, hues I had only seen in worn-out wool and peeling paint. Deep emerald leaves adorned a similarly colored stem, all woven together intricately and standing out amidst the field of brown. I marveled at the plant, bending down to hold it delicately between two fingers. It was incredible, even better than in photographs.

I spent months looking through the old textbooks Zoe had found, simply admiring the anatomy of different flowers and plants from the Old World. She was so excited to show me. I can still picture her jumping up and down as she entered my room in her tattered sports jersey and two-sizes-too-big jeans, a huge stack of books cradled like a child in her arms. Her tight curls were always pulled up into two buns, perfectly placed on the top of her head and bouncing with her childlike movements. I had quirked up an eyebrow at her as she wordlessly dropped her findings on my cot with a thump.

“Books,” she had said, looking at me with a newfound glimmer in her eye, “textbooks. We can learn!”

There was plenty of other information in those textbooks, but the flowers fascinated me. They caught my attention not just for their beauty, but for their mechanics, too. As I read, I began to appreciate how their roots anchored them to the earth, how their stems acted as passageways for water and nutrients, how they came in so many shapes, shades, and sizes. I wanted to know everything I could about them. I had always been that way, I guess.

A nearly foreign feeling emerged in me as a smile curled its way onto my face. The muscles were rusty from a long hibernation and they weren’t sure how to react to the sudden use. Dust found its way into my eyes as my cheeks rose with the grin, so I brushed it away quickly. That, I was used to.

“A cosmos,” I said to no one but myself. Of course, it was a cosmos.

The world before me was barren, a bleak expanse of land that seemed to never end. How the fuck was I supposed to survive out here? Despite my extensive studying, I wasn’t necessarily well-versed in survival. I had no protection out here, no roof over my head, and no soldiers with weapons on watch for intruders, or worse, for variants. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Variants were the one thing I knew almost nothing about, despite how hard I tried to get information from the watchmen and neighboring families. In all honesty, we didn’t know much about them, just that they didn’t seem to like us too much. One week the world was our terrain and the next it was theirs. I had never met one and I wasn’t planning on doing so, but I no longer had control over that. I chose to leave and there was no turning back.

That didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Adjusting my pack on my back, I grabbed my flask and poured a bit of water over the stubborn flower.

“Hope we make it, little guy.”

One last look at the distant confines I used to call home, then I was walking again, this time never turning back.

. . .

As it turns out, walking across one huge expanse of dust and dirt isn’t very fun! In fact, it’s fucking brutal. I had no idea where I was going, that much was clear not even ten minutes into the journey. Leave the city, that was my only plan. A shit plan, in hindsight. I reached into one of the many pockets of my pack and pulled out my water bottle. Last sip, that’s not good. If I could just go a little longer and reach the forest, I’d be okay. Much of the landscape had been torn apart over the years, but there were still occasional patches of green, at least that’s what I had been told. Just a little farther, surely I would reach it soon.

The hours dragged on, all melding together into one blurry week of sleeping in a ripped tent in the middle of nowhere and barely eating or drinking. When my eyes focused on a small dot of green in the distance, I nearly brought my hands up to rub the mirage from them, but I knew better than to do anything like that before washing. Especially after the week I’ve had, too much dust and not enough water.

I had been preparing for my lunch break when I spotted it, excited to get my hands on my tenth granola bar of the week. All desire for a break left my body, replaced by the desperate need to get to that forest before nightfall. There could be water in there, shelter, food, the possibilities were endless. I picked up my pace, feet moving with fervor despite my obvious exhaustion. My pack threatened to slip off my back, but I ignored it.

I reached the edge of the forest by nightfall, a shudder running through me at the thought of spending the night alone in the dense environment. Anyone or anything could be living here, and they could be hungry. The ground didn’t feel safe, too open and vulnerable of a place to sleep, but the sliver of moonlight shining down on me wasn’t enough to find anywhere else. This would have to do.

A few restless hours passed before I had finally fallen into a deep sleep, my back pressed uncomfortably against a tree and my pack serving as a makeshift pillow. I didn’t bother to set up camp, figuring I’d pick up and move in the morning anyways. I expected to get a few good hours of sleep at least, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was shaken awake by unfamiliar hands and a gruff voice.

“Get the fuck up,” the voice barked as my eyes adjusted to the morning light, peering up at the shaded figure looming over me.

“Wha-what?”

“Get. The fuck. Up.” The figure grabbed my pack from underneath my head and I groaned at the rude awakening. In my early morning haziness, I barely questioned the individual’s orders. My body moved before my brain told it to, pulling itself out of the fetal position and standing up, unsteady but sturdy enough.

As I rose to my feet, I took a good look at the person for the first time. He stood tall, towering over my frame with long legs and broad shoulders. Underneath his hood, a mask shielded most of his face from me; it looked to be made of some sort of wood and with the jagged smile that was carved into it, it was borderline terrifying. Dark blond hair toppled out and around the thing, curling messily at the ends. He sported muted green cargo pants and a thick belt bearing a multitude of knives and other weapons I didn’t even want to imagine. A black T-Shirt spread across his torso, strong arms emerging from the sleeves and gloved hands gripping a satchel against his hip. If this went south, I was outmatched.

“What made you think sleeping on the ground was a good idea?” he hissed out a few minutes later as he led me through the trees, taking angry steps at least two yards ahead of me.

“I didn’t have many other options,” I responded simply, not sure what he wanted from me and still groggy with sleep.

“Well, you picked the stupidest option.”

I rolled my eyes, who did this guy think he was? Sure, the ground wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was all I had! I huffed, kicking at a rock as he stopped to check...something — who knows what he was doing.

“You got a name, mask boy?”

He shushed me, holding up his index finger as he looked around at our surroundings.

“It was just a question-”

“Dream,” he cut me off, “now shush.”

He said it simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd name anyone had ever heard, and went right back to surveying the space around us. I poked my head around at him, trying and failing to get this mystery man’s attention.

“Is that your real name?” I inquired, making awkward eye contact with the mesh-covered eyeholes of his mask and wishing I could see his face when he answered. Maybe then I’d know if he was bluffing or not. Or if he planned on killing me.

“It’s what you’ll call me.”

There was a finality in the way he said it, a sternness in his voice that I wasn’t about to argue with. A beat passed in utter silence, me waiting for him to continue the conversation and him already three steps ahead of me on the path. Dream isn’t a chatty guy, noted.

I jogged to catch up to him, slowing as I reached his side. He didn’t seem like he was going to kill me as soon as night fell on the already dark forest, but keeping him in my sight was the safest bet.

“You’re not gonna ask my name?” He turned to face me, raising an eyebrow and bobbing his head as if to say ‘go on’. I gave him my name and he grunted in response — men.

He persevered through the forest, cutting away branches and leaving a green mess in our wake. I had no idea where we were going or why I was following his lead so easily, but he seemed confident and I trusted his confidence more than my own.

“So…” I dragged on, twiddling my thumbs and shooting him a look, “do we have a plan here or are we just gonna wander for the next five hours of daylight?”

He rolled his eyes, letting out an “ugh” as he pushed through another set of leaves. I wasn’t wrong; the sun would be setting soon, and based on how he reacted this morning, he wasn’t a night owl.

“Our camp is set up a few miles north. We should get there before nightfall.”

Did he say our?

[acreepqueen]

Inktober 2020 |Day 1: Fish|

Eek! Guess I’m doing Inktober this year! This isn’t the best thing I’ve ever written but, I really hope you guys enjoy this.

Word Count: 1,679

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You had never been much of a believer in anything you couldn’t see or prove. Even then, you were prone to doubt something you couldn’t explain. That was why, when the aquarium in town had announced it was revealing a newly discovered species, you were skeptical to say the least. The information they had released to the public was limited, but there was talk in the town of it being something monstrous. You’d scoffed at the idea but your curiosity was peaked. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to take a trip to the aquarium. You knew you’d enjoy the species they for sure had even if this new thing turned out to be a bust. 

The crowds at the exhibit’s debut were surprisingly large, though not entirely unexpected. After all, it had been the talk of the town since it was announced. You slipped through the hoard with only slight difficulty. Before long, you were able to see the exhibit. It was odd that there was a barrier put up to keep people away from the glass. The enclosure itself was rather ominous. It wasn’t as well lit as the other tanks and it was huge. You were pretty sure it could comfortably house a whale. Still, it was unnerving that you didn’t see anything but a couple small fish and a manta ray. You eyes scanned the crowd around you for any workers, but you didn’t have time to find anyone. 

Murmurs from the people around you suddenly quieted and you glanced back at the tank in slight confusion. You gasped as your eyes met a pair startlingly similar to yours. Although, with a start, you realized that the face of what ever you were looking at was much bigger than yours. You froze unsure what to do or feel as you watched the creature. Never had you seen something quite like it. It looked humanoid, the biggest difference being the giant fish tail in place of legs. On the tail, the scales were a murky black and sharp looking spines ran down it. What at first you had thought was hair you soon realized was a mass of tentacles on the creature’s head. Its eyes were pitch black voids which made it impossible to tell where, if at all, it was looking. Though, the your main concern lay with the creature’s mouth. Teeth that made shards of broken glass look soft sat in its mouth. You gulped slightly as you watched the thing move. It looked agitated to say the least.

Within moments the silence of the crowd was broken by jeering and the sounds of cameras clicking. Many had neglected to see or follow the many posted signs stating to turn off your camera flash. You winced as the creature bared its teeth. Something in your gut churned as people continued to ignore the rules. One young girl ducked under the banister and walked up to the glass. She stood about a foot away and turned her back to the tank. She smiled, posing briefly for a picture. 

You saw what was going to happen moments before it did. Without thinking you slid under the banister and pushed the girl often the side as it slammed into the glass baring its teeth once more. No one in the crowd behind you missed the loud smash, but with the blood rushing in your ears you didn’t hear it at first. You turned to the tank only to see two huge cracks stretching out from the places where the creatures hands had smacked into the glass. You felt a chill run through you. The glass was a couple of inches thick and it had been cracked as if it were nothing. 

Most everyone had run away by now, but you couldn’t make your legs move. You stood frozen in place making direct eye contact with a humanoid sea monster twice your size. Okay, yeah. This is not how you had planned your day to go. To your surprise it didn’t continue breaking the glass, instead it put its hands on it looking at you in a way you could only describe as curious. Still, you didn’t trust the look in its eyes. It blinked and that was all you needed to snap out of it. You slipped back behind the banister but continued to watch the creature. It was still watching you with interest, hands pressed up against the glass. You took some time to study it more closely. Its skin was a dark greyish blue hue that reminded you vaguely of the deep deep ocean. The more you looked at it the more it looked emaciated and even a bit sickly. Though, maybe that was just how this species typically looked. Afterall, this was the first time you’d ever seen one. 

Hesitantly you waved at the creature. With its sharp, boney fingers it waved back mimicking you. You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your face. It once again copied you, smiling back. Feeling more than a little amused you stretched backwards with your arms behind your head and it copied you again. You were getting ready to try something else when a voice behind you caused you to jump.

“Amazing. I’ve never seen em’ do that. Typically he’s pretty damn mean, that one,” a worker stated, looking at you incredulously. You weren’t sure what to say but the creature bared its fangs at the worker beside you and swam away. Only peeking out at you briefly from behind a large piece of coral behind ducking down again.

“He don’t like me one bit, I tell ya. Won’t take nothin’ I give em’. Spiteful lil’ retch would rather starve to death than eat the food I’ve got!” He ranted. You grimaced but listened on politely. So you were right about the creature looking unhealthy. 

“We’re gettin’ real desperate now. Everyone’s had a go at takin’ care of em’ but he’s just hateful. Ricky had to get stitched up after he got a little too close to em’.”

You weren’t sure you liked where this conversation was going. If you were about to be asked to do what you thought you were going to, you weren’t sure if you could refuse. You didn’t want the creature to starve to death and it would probably be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Although, you didn’t really have a death wish either.

“Maybe you’d like to give it a go?” the worker asked hopefully. You frowned slightly and he piped up.

“I’m sure they’d pay ya good money if they know he’ll take food from ya!” he encouraged. You glanced back at the tank, more specifically the large cracks in the glass. Looking back towards the coral your eyes locked with a pair of sunken black ones. To hell with it.

“Okay, fine. But I’ll for sure sue if I get seriously hurt,” you agreed staring down the worker. He clapped his hands excitedly and thanked you, before he practically dragged you along.

The nerves hit you like a trainwreck the moment a bucket of dead fish was placed at your feet. You stood a couple of feet away from the open tank absolute terrified. This was such a bad idea and you were totally going to get yourself killed.

“Now, just scootch a lil bit closer to the tank and call for em’,” the man instructed. You inched forward on trembling legs with the bucket in your hand. Dead fish was certainly not a pleasant smell. 

“H-hey,” you called softly. Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

“He’s not gonna hear ya if-” the man cut himself off when a head peeked out of the water. God, up close he seemed so much bigger. You wanted nothing more than to bolt in that moment but you kept your feet planted firmly.

“Hi, I have food,” you stately lamely gesturing towards the fish. The creature upturned his nose at the bucket and you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.

“M-maybe something fresher would be better...?” you inquired towards the worker. He shook his head.

“Nah, his kind clean off carcasses normally. We can’t feed em’ rotten fish though, they’re afraid it might hurt em’,” the worker explained. Your eyes widened a smidge, but that would certainly explain the teeth. You picked up a fish from the bucket and took a step towards the creature.

“I know it’s not what you normally eat, but you have to eat something. I don’t want you to die...” you trailed off, unsure why you were trying to converse with it in the first place. To your surprise it placed its hands onto the side and laid its head down on top of it. It still watched you warily but it didn’t seem malicious. Slowly, you set the bucket down and pulled out a fish watching it all the while for any sort of sign it might want to hurt you. You cautiously walked over to it and held out the fish. It snarled and you flinched, but stayed rooted in place. With what sounded like a heavy sigh it took the fish and plunged back into the tank with it. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and turned back to look at the caretaker. His mouth was agape and he looked stunned. 

Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you just throw the fish!? The hell were you thinking!? Why was he so gentle?! He won’t let anyone get within a foot of that tank!” he didn’t seem like he knew whether he should scold or applaud you. You just grimaced and let the man talk your ear off for a moment. Eventually, you swapped contact information and he said that he’d set up a time for you to be interviewed tomorrow. You weren’t sure the legality of all this, but you’d been meaning to find a new job for a while now. If it meant working at an aquarium with a potentially dangerous sea monster, so be it.

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Requests are open!

Part | 1 2 3

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Summary: almost caught by Lana’s husband. Dinner with mom. Brief mentions of having a bad relationship with food. Slightly irritating ending but its okay because I hate me too

There had been many close encounters. Too many to be overly confident in the situation. Her husband coming home too early during particular heated make-out sessions. Teachers passing by in cars while you walked through towns outside of your own during dates.

Weeks flew by and the rollercoaster of a relationship you had with your teacher went up and down like the waves of the ocean that you could see from your bedroom window.

The worst had come on a sunny Friday. You had taken a hard tumble on your run outside of Lana's help and you stumbled your way to her front door for some help. She gasped when she saw you.

She offered her arm to do as you limped into a kitchen and helped you to sit on her counter.

"Gosh, Y/N. This isn't a good look," she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from one of the drawers.

You chuckled through your pain. "You're just annoyed that you can't get me on my knees." Lana raised her eyebrow and tilted your chin down to see your eyes.

"I could, still."

You shook your head. You knew Lana would never touch you like that before you left high school, the promise she had kept this far. Lana dabbed your cut-up knees and shins with cotton balls dipped in alcohol. Blood had dripped down your legs and gathered and your socks. The brunette padded your knees and taped them with some medical tape she had found. They were pretty nasty gnashes after all.

Lana wiped blood from a smaller cut on your chin and dried it. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Your arms and palms were a different story.

You had unconsciously clenched your hands while you walked through Lana's house and upon opening them realised that blood had pooled.

"Oh, baby-" Lana started, stopping herself when she realised what had come out of her mouth. She went straight to cleaning your arms and applying bandages to your other injuries.

"Did you just call me 'baby'?"

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking straight."

You cocked your head at her. "I didn't think there was ever a straight thought in your head, baby."

Lana stared at you with a shocked expression.

"Too much?" You asked. You answer was a kiss as Lana pulled your legs around her waist and carried you over to her couch.

Careful not to disturb any of your injuries, Lana knelt between your legs and her tongue beckoned entrance to your mouth.

Your hands found at each other’s closed as you shift your bodies to straddle her.

Lana stripped off your running top and threw in onto the couch while you worked at the buttons on her blouse, only to be interrupted by the sound of the turning lock at the front door.

You hissed a profanity as you got your shirt back on as quickly as you could and fetched a glass of water to seem less suspicious whilst Lana tidied herself up.

“Afternoon, Lana,” her husband muttered as he strod towards her, taking her by the waist and kissing her. It almost felt as though he knew to prove something to you. Like he wanted to show you that on paper Lana was his. You bit your tongue and turned away, a pang of annoyance coursed through you as you saw Lana's lips on another, even if you knew she didn't want it. Even if you knew that he was completely cold towards her.

Oliver glared at you. "Why are you over here this time, hm?" he asked. "Isn't it a little inappropriate to be in your teacher's house so often?"

You rolled your eyes hard to keep the absolute diva inside you at bay. You turned to him and gave a coy smile. "I'm here as a neighbour," you retorted. Your heart smiled at Lana's silent chuckle. "I fell outside, and Ms. Winters cleaned me up." You motioned to the pads on your knees which were almost beginning to bleed through.

Lana shook her head at you, blushing slightly at your tone. Oliver shrugged as if your answer was satisfactory enough for him.

"I also came over because my mom wanted to know if the both of you wanted to come for dinner tomorrow night," you said. Lana's eyebrow raised as if to ask when you would stop trying to grind at Oliver. You knew rightly that he left for New York in the morning.

Oliver hummed to himself. "I'm afraid I won't be able to come, but I'm sure Lana would feel more than comfortable by herself."

Lana stared at him. "What does that even mean?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you're very comfortable with your student and her mother as it is. You don't need me around anyways," he said, he gripped Lana's wrist hard for a moment and released again when she winced.

Oliver stalked out of the kitchen and you stayed where you were until you hear his office door close upstairs.

Lana breathed a sigh of relief and clasped her hands to her head as you approached her with open arms. Lana lent into your embrace. “That was far too close, Y/N,” she whispered, her fingers tight around your arms. “Maybe we should stop doing that for a little while.”

You pursed your lips. You had felt Lana growing more detached for a while, worried that someone would find out before you would make it known.

Lana pressed her lips against your neck softly, laying them up to your jawline. “I like you, Y/N,” she whispered softly. “I can’t let anything bad happen.”

You shook your head to get her to stop talking. “How about you just come around tomorrow? We can watch a movie before my mom comes back. A little movie date, hm?” You played with a lock of her hair and put your forehead against hers.

Saturday morning came quickly. Your mom was still at work.

8am.

Oliver would have been gone for two hours and you had another few hours before your mom came home in the late afternoon.

You were quick to change into something comfortable and grab something to eat. Your relationship with food had been rocky for a while. Somedays you found yourself comfortable with your eating; you were careful with what you consumed out of your enjoyment for en bon santé which your mother often beamed upon, simply happy that her daughter didn’t have a constant craving for junk food. Other days however, you often found yourself over-calculating the calories in your head. It was so often a game of numbers that you were determined to win. Spitting snacks into the bin without thinking.

Lana had noticed your behaviour straight away and walked you through old tips.

“Food is not your enemy, sweetheart,” she told you as she watched you throw a napkin into a bin. One of your dates, you had got boba and waffles together.

You shrugged it off, but Lana stopped you. “You don’t get out of talking about this, Y/N,” she said. You had walked through a park and sat in the roots of a massive oak tree. You were against the tree and Lana lay between your legs with her back against your stomach.

“It’s nothing, Lana,” you said. It was true, in fairness you hadn’t thought about it as much other than a way to have a few snacks without worrying about what you were eating.

Lana propped herself up on you. “Well, no matter what it is I’m here for you to talk, and I’m not going. I was a teenager once too; I remember the pressure. But-” The brunette took your face in her hand and planted you a kiss. “-for what it’s worth, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

A knock came at your side door, followed by its opening and Lana walking in through your kitchen as you had advised.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she cooed as you strode into her arms for a hug. She planted a kiss on your forehead then stood against the counter, watching you make breakfast.

Your excitement to see your soulmate had almost made you forget that you were standing with only a crop top and shorts on. Although Lana clearly didn’t mind. “What are you staring at?” You giggled with a plate of pancakes in hand, reaching in to give Lana a quick kiss on the lips.

Lana rolled here eyes at you playfully and took your outstretched hand. “Any movies you want to watch?” You asked, smiling at the gratification you got as you felt her lace her fingers through yours.

You used your hips to force your bedroom door open, letting go of Lana’s hand for a moment to walk in. You noticed she wasn’t moving.

“Y/N, I meant what I said when I don’t want to go further than kissing you before you left school,” she said quietly.

You chuckled. “You don’t know me as well as you think. I don’t have sex in my bed. I like it too much to ruin the sheets,” you replied. Lana still looked unconvinced. “I only brought you up because I want to cuddle. In my bed. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go to the living room with a blanket. It’s up to you, baby.”

Lana thought it over for a minute before straightening up and following you to her bed. She lay down first, and you lay down on top of her with your head between her chest and shoulder, your arm and leg draped over her body slightly.

You had chosen to watch Nine-To-Five. Brilliant movie in your opinion. Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton. You used to watch it all the time with your mom after she left your father. It was one of those movies from the 80’s which always made you feel on top of the world after. Or maybe that was just Jane Fonda’s general influence.

You relaxed into Lana as you felt her hand lay down on your back, tracing swirling patterns in your skin that made your heartbeat at a hundred miles on hour.

You talked during the movie. Lana told you about anymore nightmares that Oliver had stirred up for her with the divorce that seemed to be going nowhere. She had even stopped wearing her necklace unless she knew that only you would see it.

Your mom came home a few hours later, after you had changed your clothes and went downstairs to look a little less inconspicuous. Your mother seemed to the think nothing of it, but for Lana it was a different story, and you could sense it in her.

“You better not be up to what I think you’re up to, Y/N,” your mom muttered when Lana excused herself to the bathroom during dinner, looking straight at you and taking a sip of her wine.

“Which would be...?”

Mom set her glass down hard. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s your teacher.”

Your mother’s ability to clock almost every single little thing never failed to amaze you.

“I’m nineteen in two weeks.”

Your mom waved. “Oh yea, sure. You’re nineteen in two weeks, that changed everything,” she muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Are you crazy?”

You debated answering that, given that it would’ve been a “yes.”

“The only reason that I’m not absolutely swinging arms with her, nor is she on my hit list, is because I saw the necklace,” she said.

“What about them?”

Your mom glared. “What do you mean, ‘what about them?’” She had a way of repeating what you said in a humorous tone when you said something silly. “I know that she’s your soulmate, Y/N. It still goes that you’re a student and she’s your teacher. Please, for both of your sakes end it for collage before one or the both of you get into trouble, hm?”

Your mom left to clean her dishes and Lana returned, your mom’s words still haunting you.

At the end of the night, your mom hugged Lana goodbye, telling her she was welcome over anytime. When your mom was visibly distracted you walked Lana outside.

“You know I could hear the conversation with your mom, right?” She spoke. You had been hoping to avoid having a conversation about this. “I don’t necessarily think she’s wrong.”

You broke away from Lana’s eyes and trained them on the ground, trying to compartmentalise her words.

“Listen, so far we’re just casual. Let’s put this to rest before something bad happens, and then as soon as your finished school I’m going to take you on a date to the nicest restaurant in the state,” she said.

“Casual,” is what she called it. You nodded your head and muttered goodnight. Lana, although noticing your behaviour, replied back, and left to her own house again.

Your mom stood in the hall. “I’m impressed,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think you would do it.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t.”

After that night, school was less enjoyable. You had even went as far as lodging a request to move to another class. You had barely been able to bring yourself to look at Lana from the sheer embarrassment. The request, to your dismay was denied and you had to face the added humiliation of Lana knowing that you had tried to leave the class and failed.

“You could at least talk to me about it,” she said when she asked you to stay behind. “You’ve barely glanced at me in the last two weeks.”

You shrugged again.

You felt like you had nothing to stay. Still stung from “casual.”

It was clearly bothering Lana, and you knew that her ego was the only thing that was keeping her composure. You knew it clearly didn’t help when Manny, the quarterback on the football team gave you a massive promposal in the cafeteria.

It was a gimmick. You’d been best friends with Manny since you were a child and he often flirted with you jokingly in class. Lana didn’t know of the extent of your friendship with him and you knew it stung her with jealousy to see the handsome, popular, insanely talented football player giving you all the attention.

Even Manny’s boyfriend, who lived in Arizona, teased you about the joke flirting.

You turned around, noticing Lana’s eyes fall when you looked at her.

You accepted, and boy were you in for it with Lana now.

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u​ @that-fucking-error

[brooklyn-1918]

On A Farm

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: On a farm in Western Pennsylvania, You and Steve grew up. When his mother passed, he took off for Brooklyn. When he returns, you both have some patching up to do. 

Warnings: Some mild swearing (like one word, I think), uuuuh, Steve is a bit of a dumb ass? There’s not much to this story. 

A/N: I know I said I was going to work on the next part of Desert Rose, but I got sidetracked. What a surprise. So this is for @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ ‘s 1000 follower challenge. The farm that I used for inspiration is here. Prompts are in bold. 

At five years old, Steve’s mother brought him to Pennsylvania, where she settled them on a run down old farm. The paint peeled, the windows rattled. It was scorchingly hot in the summer, and bitterly cold in the winter.

He desperately missed the streets of Brooklyn where he was born, however little he might remember it. He missed the cobble streets as he walked down the long dirt drive, he missed the tattered walls as he helped his mother scrape paint. 

The only thing that helped him keep his head straight was you. Little you, who would run back and forth with him in the fields… That is, until he had to stop and sit to catch his breath. You, who would climb the tall pines that grew around the old barn with him. You, who would hide in the woods and jump out to scare him. 

The years progressed, you both grew. When you were both 17, you planted a kiss to his cheek, pushing yourself up on your toes to reach him, as you had both grown exponentially from when you first met. 

Then, that winter, his mother was struck with tuberculosis. 

You tried to console him, to lure him away from his mother’s side, to eat something and get some rest. But to your dismay, nothing you said or did made him move. 

After she was gone, he packed his bag with a weak apology and left back for Brooklyn. 

You stood in the middle of the dirt road, a tear rolling down your cheek as he climbed into the back of a truck, bag slung over his shoulder. He looked up just enough to see you, but dropped his head quickly. 

The truck started and you stared after him as he got smaller and smaller. And all you could do was stand there, broken hearted, as he left. 

__________

It had been close to a decade by the time you saw him again. The depression was over, and a war had been fought and won. 

The sun broke through the branches of the pine trees leading up the drive to the Rogers farm, the dirt and gravel crunching under your feet as you progressed forward. Toolbox swinging from your hand, you stopped under the windowsill to the large bay window in the living room. 

Dropping the metal container to the grass, you gripped the wooden shutter with both hands and gave it a twist, positioning it back into its original spot. 

You had noticed the broken shutter from your own window. It had been blown sideways in the windstorm the week prior. Nodding to yourself, you grabbed your tools and moved to the front door. 

For nine and a half years, you had taken care of this farm. Fixing it in just the way that Sarah Rogers would have, once upon a time. There was no evidence that Steve had ever decided to sell it, and certainly no one had shown up to claim it. 

So you took it upon yourself to keep the place in order. 

Climbing the stairs, you stopped in the upstairs hall, carpet sending up puffs of dust with each step you took. Grabbing the broom that you left there, you jabbed once at the ceiling, and knocked open the panel that concealed the ladder to the attic. 

“Alright, let’s see the damage,” You murmur to yourself, before clamping the handle of your toolbox between your teeth, and climbing the rickety old ladder. It shook violently with your weight, but held as you hoisted yourself into the musty space. 

“Ah, there you are!” You exclaim, moving over to the drip of water coming from the hole in the ceiling, about the size of a baseball. 

It took an hour to fix, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck, staining your shirt collar. When you were done, you slid down the ladder, shut the trap door, and descended the stairs, swinging left as you stepped off the last stair into the kitchen. 

The tap squeaked as you turned on the water, as did the floorboards behind you, but you didn’t notice. You set down your box on the counter, the metal clatter covering the clicks behind you. 

“Hands up, and turn around,” A voice commanded behind you, deep and gruff. Startled, you let out a yelp, and threw your hands up. A shudder ran through your spine, and you turned slowly on your heel to face down the barrel of a rifle, pointed directly at your nose. 

Your sight shifted to the man holding the gun. His face set into a scowl, blond hair dirty and falling into his eyes. His jaw was set with stubble, muscle twitching as he ground his teeth together. 

He wore a military uniform. Not a dress uniform, but nothing casual. A duffel bag was laying on the floor by the side door, a rank insignia stitched onto the side. 

“Who are you, and why the hell are you in my house?” He growled, refusing to drop the rifle. You blinked once, twice, then three times. “Your house? Who are you?” You fire back. Your question seemed silly as you continued to examine him. It seemed silly as you looked into the eyes of the boy that you spent your childhood with. 

“I--”

“Steve?” You interrupted. The man faltered, lifting his head and letting the muzzle of the gun drop down. His jaw hung open, and he watched you for a moment. 

“Y/N? Steve dropped the gun fully, and with a few quick hand motions, rendered it ineffective. Before he had a chance to set it on the worn table, you rushed him, pushing yourself up onto your toes to wrap your arms tightly around his neck. 

You laughed brightly as he leaned back, lifting you off the floor. His chest vibrated warmly as he laughed as well, then settled you back on the floor. “What are you doing here?” He asked, stepping away from you. Placing his hands, warm and calloused, over your shoulders, he pushed himself back so he could examine you for a fleeting moment. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” You exclaim, running your fingers over the top of your head in astonishment. He flicked his gaze to the duffle, but turned back swiftly to you. 

“Well, I-- It’s hard to explain,” He started, “But really, what are you doing in my house?” 

You froze, momentarily bashful as you glanced at the dirty floor. You were gonna clean that today, too. Looking back up to him, you gave a wobbly smile and a shrug. 

“You’ve been gone for a while. And someone needed to take care of this place,” You remark. Now it was Steve’s turn to flush. That Irish blush that worked its way from the tips of his ears, tinting down his neck, and disappearing below the collar of his shirt. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, huh?” He noted, nodding his head and slipping a hand to rest at the back of his neck. You bobbed your head in agreement, glancing down again. 

Silence settles between the two of you. A strained tension filled the room, settling deep in your bones. You hated the feeling. It made you want to run. You could be out of the kitchen, and through the creaky screen door in seconds. Out of the house, and away from him. 

Because god damn it he broke your heart when he left all those years ago. And you never wanted to feel that pain again. 

You didn’t want to run. But that’s exactly what you did. 

“Well, I should leave you to get settled,” You said softly, turning on your heel to grab your tools. 

You could hear shifting behind you, and as you faced him once more, he was standing straight, stiff. “Right. It’s good to see you again, Y/N. Really good.” He smiled, a twinge of sadness criss crossing his features. You force a smile, and walk past him, pausing briefly to gently squeeze his shoulder. 

You continued to the door, but stopped next to the green duffle. Nudging it with the toe of your boot, you could see the insignia better. Captain. 

“If you enlisted, you just proved yourself to be the reckless idiot that I always said you were,” You chuckle, slipping into the old banter that you both had, so long ago. It seemed strangely familiar, a long dormant part of you that suddenly was awake. 

Steve laughed behind you, softly. 

“Well, I proved it,” He confirmed. You looked up to him, and pursed your lips in a frown. He gave you a tired grin, and you shook your head in exasperation. 

Another moment of silence, and you turned and left.

__________

You aren't sure what woke you. But you were decidedly awake at a time when you really didn’t want to be. You dropped your head back to your pillow with a groan when it happened again. This is what you were sure had woken you up. 

A shout, muffled by walls and a few hundred feet, drifted through the window you had left popped open. You sat bolt upright, the blankets falling down around your hips, and turned your body so you could see Steve’s house. A light blinked on across the way, cutting through the darkness, and you swung your legs out of your warm spot. 

Grabbing your slippers, and flashlight, you bounded out your front door, and across the dirt road. 

“Steve!” You called as you made it to the screen door you had left out of only a few hours ago. You could see the yellow glow of the kitchen light through the glass panels of the side door, so you quickly transgressed the screened in porch to open it. 

“Steve,” You tried again, softly this time. The only acknowledgement that he gave was the slight inclination of his head, which dipped down towards the table as he sat there. 

Shirtless.

In the freezing kitchen. 

Because of course that made sense. You inched forward, hand hovering over his back. You sucked in a breath, and placed your fingers down, rubbing in soft circles. 

A sheen of sweat coated him, the roots of his hair darkened with it. He shook, just a small tremor, but it was there. 

Pulling a chair over, you noticed the pair of dog tags laying in the middle of the table, framed by the flaking green paint. His own, and another set of an unfamiliar man. 

“James B Barnes,” You mouth to yourself. Dropping into the creaking chair, you swing around so your knees point to him, and lean toward him. “Steve, what’s going on?” You wait a moment without him speaking. “Steve, c’mon, you’re scaring me. Please talk to me?” 

He still doesn't speak, so you take your fingers, and place them under his chin, his stubble prickleing at them. You maneuvered Steve’s jaw so he looked at you. 

His eyes were watery and so insanely blue. It almost made you gasp, if you weren't so concerned. 

Dread gripped your belly, an iron grasp that refused to let go. 

So neither did you. You stroked your thumb over the prickles, and leaned forward to wrap your arm around his broad shoulders. Closing your eyes, forehead leaning against the bare bulk of his shoulder, you nearly jumped when you felt his warm hand wrap around yours. Another shudder ran through him, jostling you, prompting you to pick your head back up. 

“Steve, I need you to tell me what's wrong.”

He remained silent. With a sigh, you stand, then pause momentarily, watching as his head falls back down. Once again scooping the flashlight up, you turned to go. 

A gasp ripped its way from your throat as Steve locked his hand around your wrist again. He still hasn't picked up his head, but his arm, stronger than the last time you saw him, was reached out to you. Your gaze drops to his fingers, decorated in scars, then up to his face, where you can see tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

You dropped back into the seat. 

__________

For weeks, the two of you did a sort of dance. He would say nothing of the nine years that he was gone. You tiptoed your way around your heart. 

It just wasn’t the same as how it had been for so long. You had both changed. A sigh, probably the thousandth that week, escaped you. Steve looked over to you, brow raised. With one final shove, he pushed the new board into place, patching the hole in the side of the dilapidated barn. 

“I think I’ve heard you sigh more than I’ve heard you actually speak. What’s goin’ on?” He questions. You turn your head, then push yourself off of the barn wall, clutching the toolbox tightly. 

“Nothing,” You lie. A clap of thunder in the distance sounds, and it seems as though mother nature is calling you out on your lie. Steve stands to his full height, a doubtful look on his face. 

“Really?” He chuckles. Another crash of thunder sounds. Closer. Followed by a flash of lightning. 

“Yes, really. I’m fine,” You reinforce. 

He nods, takes the box of tools from you, and places his hand over your shoulder to guide you gently back to the house, just as the rain begins to fall. 

“It took me a long time to figure out when you lie,” Steve raises his voice to be heard over the near downpour. “And right now, you’re doing a real bad job of trying to fool me.” 

You huff, and cover your head with your arms to keep the cold drops from landing in your eyes. Failing at your makeshift umbrella, you huff and drop your arms as you both splash through the mud puddles. 

“Well, Steve, that was a long time ago,” You say, somewhat harshly. Behind you, you can hear his steps falter slightly, to your slight satisfaction. “Right,” He mutters, just as you both reach the screen porch door. You yank it open, harder than you hoped. It squeals in protest, nearly coming off its hinges. 

Dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, you peel your boots off, then move to the sink to strip your jacket off, sopping wet and clinging to you. You drop it in, and turn to face Steve. 

“What happened?” You ask, shaking your head and throwing your hands out to the side. 

Steve freezes, halfway between placing the tools down, and with a look of shocked confusion on his face. 

“What do you mean? Am I missing something?” He asks, a slight waiver in his voice. Slowly, he places the metal box down, and snags the dish towel. 

“Yes! I mean no! I don’t know! Maybe we're both missing something, because damn it Steve, something happened!” You burst out. Steve freezes, confusion washing over him in waves. 

You growl in frustration, and snatch your jacket back, twisting it to wring the water from it. It splashed down into the iron bowl, a crescendo of taps. 

Whipping it out, you glare at him. 

“You have been gone for almost ten years! And you come back like nothing has happened. Like no time has passed at all!” You march up to him, and jab a finger at his chest. He takes a step back, eyes wide and brow raised. 

“Y/N, I know that--”

“No, I don’t think you do! You come back, and you won't even tell me anything! You not only keep yourself up at night, but you keep me up! I’m sick with worry every time I hear you yell, and you won’t let me help!” You yell, hot tears pooling in your eyes. Steve falls silent, just staring at you, waiting to see what you would say next. 

You don’t continue, however, as you wait for his explanation. Or excuse. Or something. 

Nothing. 

You almost growl, and let the first of a cascade of tears race down your cheeks. 

“You left! You left me standing in the middle of the street! I was there and my heart was breaking. I realize that you had just lost your mother, but you could have stayed!” 

The man in front of you takes a step back. His features steel and he moves forward again. 

“How would I have been able to stay here? Huh? How could I stay here when I failed her?” He asks, pain radiating from his voice. 

“Failed her?” You fire back. “Steve, she got tuberculosis, there was nothing you could have done and you know it!” 

He visibly deflates. More salty tears make their way down your cheeks and you poke his shoulder again. 

He shakes his head, his own eyes welling in sorrow. 

“You had people here that loved you. I loved you, Steve Rogers. And you walked away to a place where you had no one in your corner,” You finish your tirade, voice dropping lower and lower as you take a step back.

Waiting for a minute for his answer, you nod. Turning, you grab your shoes, and march out the door, and into the storm, not caring that your socks were now wet and mud stained. You cry openly. Sobs muffled by the crash of the thunder. 

Another crash, and it might be thunder, but it also might be the screen door, so you glance over your shoulder. You walk faster as you see Steve running through the rain towards you. His fingers brush against your elbow, and you jerk away. He tries again, and this time is able to twist you around. “I love you! I love you, okay? There, you got me to say it. Happy?” Steve shouts over the rain. You glare at him, but soften as you realize the sincerity in his words. You can see it written all across his face. In the way that he cries too. 

“No,” Your voice waivers. “I’m not.” 

“Then give me a chance to prove it to you.”

__________

Months crawl by. Fast, but still slow. 

All that built up trust and friendship, the hidden love, comes crawling back to the both of you. 

You sit under the pine tree that grows along the drive, the autumn sun shining down, fingers twined together. You rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, staring at one of the feral kittens that have come to inhabit his farm over the last few weeks. 

Soft breathing, in and out, jostling your head slightly. 

“Thank you.” You hear Steve, and pick your head up to look at him. You furrow your brow, and lift your hand to brush the hair from his eyes. 

“For what?” 

“For giving me a chance,” He replies. You smile at him, and drop a kiss onto his shoulder. He presses one to the top of your head. 

When you look up again, he grins. Wide and toothy, just like the ones he would show you as you climbed the pine tree you now both sat under some fifteen years ago. 

“What?” You laugh. “I really want to kiss you right now. May I?” 

“I’m going to be mad if you don’t.” With his own laugh, he moves to cup your cheek. With a glint in his eye, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back, he presses down another, and another. 

And as the light of dusk slips behind the far hills on the other side of the field of hay, turning the sky purple, you both remain curled together. Lips locked, hearts swollen with love. 

The sky darkens, and as the stars appear, everything is calm.

Permanent Tag List:  @wildefire​

[mother-shipper]

I Could Not Ask You Where You Came From

I Could Not Ask You Where You Came From:(AO3) Tired of being such a disappointment to his father, six year old Steve decides maybe it would be better for everyone if he just...disappeared. When a human appears in his forest, Billy wants him gone. But what should have been a quick ridding of a pest, soon turns into something longer, better, lovelier.

Steve ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He didn’t care anymore. It was dark and the brush was high, the twigs and saplings cutting against his skin. The light of the moon barely broke through the canopy, and Steve could only just make out the trees around him. It was dangerous. He knew that. But… why did it even matter anymore? He wouldn’t be leaving the forest. That was the point. His feet hit the dirt, loud in the silence. All the creatures of the night had gone quiet as they always did when predators came near. Steve didn’t know how long he’d been running or how far from home he was when his foot caught on a tree root. He was sent flying forward, hitting the ground hard. He whimpered as pain rolled through him, sniffling and finally letting the tears flow. He couldn’t even run away right. He couldn’t even get kidnapped. His father was right. Steve was a disgrace and that was all he would ever be. He sat up and wiped at his nose with his sleeve. Who was he kidding? Even the fae wouldn’t take a child as useless and stupid as him. He moved to lean against the trunk of the nearest tree, pulling his knees up to his chest. His own father didn’t even want him. Steve buried his head in his folded arms and wept, the pain in his heart winning out.

When the sun went down, the forest came to life. Flowers started to glow, pinks and purples dotting the forest floor and shedding their light on everything around them. The stags wandered the tall grasses, their racks taking on the same ethereal glow. Small birds, the color of glittering jewels, flitted about. Everything came to life in a way no man had ever laid eyes upon and as the forest woke, so did her guardian. 

Billy rose from his nest, stretching his arms high above his head and his wings out so wide the feathers quivered. He rubbed at one eye and looked down from the heights of the tallest tree in the forest. Moths came to flutter about his head, playing under and around his horns. They spoke in whispers, telling him the news of the land. He laid his head on the edge of the nest and listened, eyes still heavy as he fought sleep. But there was something that snapped him awake instantly. A human. There was a human in his forest. Billy's bright blue eyes snapped open and he growled. 

"Where?"

The moths whispered to him and flitted away, winding around and down the trunk of the tree. Billy spread his wings wide, flapping them once, twice, then dropping out of the canopy. He spread his wings and let them catch him. They carried him on the wind, gliding through the trees. Mushrooms and frogs scuttled along beneath him as he flew but he wasn't looking to play. Not right now. Not with a threat in their midst. 

Billy was fast and silent. His feet touched the ground and he spotted it. It was so… puny. Billy crept closer, inspecting. It was all curled up, sniffling and crying pathetically. Billy tilted his head curiously, eyes narrowing. It could be a trap. Humans were vile, sneaky creatures. They couldn’t be trusted. But… he’d never seen such a tiny one. This didn’t look like any man he’d ever seen. Billy leaned in carefully, sniffing at it. It smelled human. Billy’s nose wrinkled in disgust. The human’s head lifted suddenly, brown eyes big and wet and startled where they fixed on him. 

“You’re a human,” he said, eyes narrowing. “But you’re so small.”

The human sniffled and wiped at its eyes. “So are you.”

Billy growled at that, puffing himself up as big as he could get, feathers fluffing up indignantly. “I’m big enough!”

The human stared at him, transfixed on his wings and his horns when it seemed to dawn on him. His face turned nervous. 

“Are you here to steal me?”

Billy snorted. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a fairy.”

“Oh.” Billy didn’t know what he was talking about but this human said it so confidently that Billy didn’t want to seem stupid for not understanding. He paused. “No. Are you here to kill me?”

“No!” The human shouted. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a human,” Billy sneered. 

“I… no.” The human stared at him for a moment. “I’m Steve,” he finally said. Billy didn’t answer. “If you don’t want to steal me then why are you here?” Billy folded his arms over his chest, leaning over Steve. “Do I come to your house and ask you why you’re there? No. This is my forest. You don’t belong here, so get out!”

Steve looked wounded by that and it gave Billy pause. He thought the boy might start to cry again. 

“Why are you here anyway? All the animals your kind like to murder are sleeping. You won’t find anything to hunt.” “I didn’t come to hunt,” Steve said softly. “Then why. Are. You. Here?!” Billy asked, punctuating each word with a stomp of his bare feet. “Go. Home.”

“I can’t,” Steve answered quietly. “I… they don’t want me there.”

That caught Billy off guard. Didn’t want him? “But… surely you have a mother,” he spat, “a father. A family.”

“He hates me,” Steve said, his voice small and thick with coming tears. “I make him mad all the time. And that makes my mom sad. Then they fight and it’s all my fault. So I left.”

That made Billy’s chest ache. The smell of gunpowder and burning flesh filled his nose and the angry screaming of men ringing in his ears threatened to take over and he had to shake it away. 

“Well, you can’t stay here. No humans are allowed in my forest. Not ever.” Steve sighed sadly. What was he going to do if even the fae didn’t want him? He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know where he was now. Billy planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

“You wouldn’t make it out here anyway. You should be happy I found you before the bears or the wolves.” He held out a hand for Steve. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your village.”

Steve took Billy’s hand reluctantly and let himself be pulled up. Billy’s strength surprised him as he found himself on his feet in a split second. It was as if he weighed nothing. The fairy let go of his hand and turned to survey the area. After taking stock of their situation, Billy nodded to himself. 

“Alright. This way.”

Billy took the lead and Steve followed close behind. Right before his eyes, Steve saw the forest start to transform. Reacting to the presence of its guardian, it all came alive. He stared in awe as the world around them shifted. The darkness was chased away as bluebells bloomed and cast a blue glow at their feet, lighting a path through the trees. The moss gave off a bright, fluorescent green light in speckled patterns. Fireflies started to float through the air, circling around them.

“Wow,” Steve breathed. He stopped, turning to take it all in. One of the fireflies lighted on his nose and Steve giggled. He crossed his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. “What?” Billy asked. 

“It’s so pretty,” Steve answered. “Is this what it usually looks like?”

“No.” Billy leaned down, touching one of the bluebells gently with his fingertips. It sparkled at the contact and made the softest, sweetest ringing sound Steve had ever heard. “The humans still rip the flowers up this far in. There’s way more closer to the heart.” “I wish I could see it.” 

Billy turned to Steve, looking him up and down. He took in the awed look on Steve’s face, the gentle way he scooped the firefly from his nose to cradle it carefully in his hands. 

“Come on,” he told Steve, turning off the lit path. “If you think you can keep up, that is.” 

Steve watched as the fairy took off at a run, dumbfounded for just a moment before his brain caught up.

“Hey, wait!” He followed after the winged boy, running as fast as his feet would carry him. He never took his eyes off the glistening, black plumage and yet he was suddenly gone. Steve skidded to a halt. He looked around at the darkened forest again searching for any sign of his guide. 

“Where’d you go?” He called. Steve turned in a circle and looked up into the treetops. Curling his hands around his mouth, he shouted. “Hello?”

“Shhh!”

Steve reeled around. Blue eyes stared into his, so close they nearly touched noses and Steve shrieked. He stumbled backwards, arms wheeling to try and keep balance and Billy hooked a finger in his shirt, tugging him back into balance again.

“Are you all this easily startled? And loud.”

Steve didn’t answer, just tried to catch his breath from all the running and the scare on top of that. Billy smirked. 

“Alright. I guess I’ll take it easy on you.” He turned away again and laid his palm against the bark of the nearest tree. Everything began to glow again. This time there were more colors. Pinks and purples mixed in with the blues of the bluebells. The trees glittered with their speckles of green and even the mushrooms started to give off soft light. A new pathway was lit, showing them the way to wherever this fairy boy was leading Steve. 

Steve didn’t ask questions. He followed after the other boy again, sticking closer this time. The shining eyes of owls and lizards and other night time creatures looked out at them from the trees and Steve wanted to stop. He wanted to look at them all up close. To touch them. Instead, he stayed with his guide as they moved ever forward. Billy slowed to a stop on the path, turning to face Steve. 

“Close your eyes,” he demanded. 

Steve covered his eyes obediently. Satisfied, Billy pushed Steve through the opening in the trees and out into a clearing. 

“This,” he said smugly, “is my forest.”

Steve peeked through his fingers carefully at first. He gasped and dropped his hands at once in awe of what was before him. The whole place sparkled with light. There was a pond, the fish beneath the water lighting it with their scales all glowing in different colors. The cattails waved back and forth, bathed in the light of both the water and the dragonflies that clung to them, looking like they were made of glass. Fireflies and moths floated around in the tall grass. It was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen. 

“Pretty,” he breathed. Billy smiled proudly.

He walked past Steve out into the lush, tall grass and flopped down into it. Fireflies clustered where the grass had curled out around him, almost like a cradle. He stretched his wings out beneath himself and sighed.

“How come it never looked like this before?” Steve asked, crouching down at the edge of the pool to look more closely at the gemstone fish gliding along beneath the surface. “The grown ups all say it’s so dark and scary out here.”

“Because,” Billy frowned. “The forest doesn’t like them. It hides from monsters.”

“But… Mr. Hopper says the monsters are in the woods. He says they eat kids like me up.”

“Well, he’s a liar,” Billy snapped, sitting up. “Humans are the monsters. They come into the forest and just take things that aren’t theirs. They cut down the trees and kill the animals and pick the flowers without even asking.” Billy curled up into a ball then, arms wrapping around his knees. “Humans ruin everything.”

Steve stared at the fairy boy, eyes wide in surprise. He had never done that. Ms. Joyce and his mom and his dad had never done that. But… Steve thought of his father. He thought of the screaming, the anger, the disappointment. His eyes turned sad and he looked down into the water, swirling his fingertip in the coolness of it as the fish circled. 

“I think my daddy’s a monster,” he nearly whispered. 

There was a silence that hung in the air between them, both lost in their thoughts which were more similar than they knew. Steve could feel the other boy next to him though he never heard him move. It was still, quiet, comfortable. Then a hand just barely nudged Steve and he tipped forward.

“Hey!” He shouted indignantly just before he fell forward and splashed into the water. It was just barely deep enough for Steve to go completely under and he surfaced, spluttering. 

“What was that fo-!” The fairy wasn’t on the bank where Steve had last seen him. 

He brushed his sopping wet hair back out of his eyes and scanned the shore, turning to find Billy only inches from him again. Only his eyes peeked above the water and they sparkled with mischief. Billy came up, cheeks big and he spit a fountain of water at Steve.

“Hey!” 

Billy laughed and Steve felt the annoyance bleed out of him. Instead, he looked at Billy, the water dripping from his blonde curls and glistening droplets clinging to his freckled face. He looked happy. Steve liked to see the boy happy. He splashed Billy back and the boy sputtered in surprise. He hadn’t expected retaliation but he took it in stride and splashed back at Steve. It turned into a water war, the two of them bobbing around the pond on their toes and aiming swipes at each other. 

They were having fun but it was still the middle of the night. The water was cold and only getting colder and Steve, being human, could only handle so much. His lips started to lose color and his teeth chattered but he still kept going, not wanting to give in to Billy. The fairy noticed though. He stopped splashing and grabbed Steve instead, pulling him onto the shore. They were both breathless but giggled happily. Billy shook himself off, water flying everywhere and making the dragonflies scatter. 

Steve curled into a ball, shivering and teeth chattering through his grin. He had never been allowed to play like this before. His father didn’t like him to associate with the commoners. He told Steve it “made them think too much of themselves.” Now that he had the chance, he didn’t want it to end. But Billy seemed to have other ideas. He sat behind Steve, not caring that he was getting all wet again and wrapped his arms around the shivering, human boy. He pulled Steve in close and curled his miraculously dry wings around them both. 

“Why didn’t you say you were cold, stupid?”

“I’m f-f-fine,” Steve tried to argue as though his chattering wouldn’t give him away. “Y-you’re j-just m-m-mad I was w-w-winning.”

“Were not,” Billy huffed.

“W-were t-t-too.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “You can’t get too cold. When things get too cold, they die.”

Steve just shrugged. “W-wouldn’t have to g-go home then.”

Billy frowned but didn’t answer, just curled tighter around Steve to warm him up. They sat together like that for a while, Steve asking questions about the forest. 

How did the plants and bugs glow like that? Could everything in the forest do it? Which tree was the tallest? Which thing was his favorite? Steve’s favorite were rabbits. Did he have any rabbit friends?

Billy listened and answered as best he could. Magic. Not everything but a lot of them. His tree was the tallest in the whole forest. He liked the luna moths the most and he was friends with everything that lived in his forest. 

“Everything?”

“Of course. It’s mine. I take care of it and I take care of them.”

Steve huddled closer. “It must be nice to have so many friends. I wish I had some.”

“You don’t have any friends?” Billy asked. Steve shook his head.

“Daddy says I’m not s’posta mingle with the commoners. He says I need kids of status to play with. But we’re the only blue bloods in the village so I’m not allowed to play with anyone else.”

“What’s a blue blood?” Billy asked, his nose wrinkling.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged. “But dad says we’re the only ones.”

Billy huffed. Humans were so strange. 

Birds started to chirp in the trees, waking with the first lightening of the sky. It wasn’t yet sunrise but the inky darkness was starting to lift and go gray with the first signs of morning. 

“Come on,” Billy said, standing them up. “I’ll take you back now. I know a shortcut.”

A now dry and warm Steve followed after Billy reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back. He had planned on disappearing. But the forest wasn’t his home. It was Billy’s. They moved through the trees, flowers blooming up to guide them just as they had before and it wasn’t long until they reached the treeline. Just beyond the brush, Steve could see his house, still and quiet as his family and the servants slept. 

“I’m Billy,” the fairy told Steve, breaking his train of thought. He looked over but the boy was looking straight at the dirt, hands behind his back. “And… you can come and visit the forest again. If you want to.”

“Really?” Steve smiled wide.

“Yeah,” Billy told him. “You’re okay. For a human anyway. So you can come back.”

Billy brought a hand out, revealing one of the bluebells. He offered it to Steve. “Just ask the flowers. They’ll show you where to go.” 

Steve took the bluebell with a smile, holding the flower in his hands gently. 

“And make sure you give it water, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll take good care of it. I promise.” 

Billy watched Steve cradle the flower he’d given him as if it was the most precious thing in the world and it made his heart flutter in his chest. 

“You better,” he answered. “And I’ll know if you don’t.”

Steve just smiled wider. “I’ll come play again soon. Promise. Bye, Billy!”

Billy watched Steve go, feeling an emptiness settle in his heart. Steve would come back. He promised. And Steve wasn’t like other humans. Billy trusted him. With a flutter of wings, Billy was gone, returning to his forest as Steve settled down in his bed.

“Are you the only thing from the story books?”

Billy tilted his head curiously at Steve. The two of them walked along the forest path, Steve doing his best to keep up with the forest guardian. 

“What are those?”

“You know,” Steve insisted, climbing over a tree root that Billy floated over with ease. “Storybooks. Once upon a time and happily ever after? Princes saving princesses, knights, all that stuff.”

Billy shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

Steve paused there, astride the root of the tree, and looked at Billy in surprise. 

“You’ve really never read a story before?”

“Reading is a human thing,” Billy sneered. “We don’t need your symbols. We tell our stories.”

Steve rolled his eyes, used to Billy’s distaste for things he deemed too human by now. He’d been coming to the forest for a few years by this point and he was still learning new things every time he wandered there.

“But are you the only one?”

“The only what?” Billy asked.

“The only magic thing. There’s fairies in the books but there’s different kinds. Big ones and small ones and mean ones and nice ones. And there’s magic animals too.” 

Billy smiled. While it was decidedly human, he couldn’t help but love Steve’s curiosity. The wonder he found in the mundane, as if every day was his first. Billy led Steve further along. He took him deeper into the forest than ever before. They pulled to a stop at the foot of the most magnificent sight to behold in such a magical place. The tree was huge. Hundreds of years undisturbed had allowed it to tower above all the others. It was so thick around it would take ten men at full arm’s length to wrap around it. Steve stood and stared up at it, awestruck.

The heart of the forest.

Billy made a gesture with his hand and one of the roots beneath Steve shuddered. Steve yelped in surprise and clung to it as it started to rise. It pulled itself up and out of the dirt, stretching higher and higher toward the canopy until it paused at the top. Cradled at the apex of the branches, safely hidden in the thick leaves, was a large bird’s nest. It was big enough to fit two adults and Steve gaped at it. 

Billy landed inside it, plopping down cross-legged in the center. 

“Come on.”

Steve hesitated. He looked over the edge of the tree root, seeing just how long the way down was which made him cling tighter. 

“Don’t be a baby,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “You won’t fall if you’re in the nest.”

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting himself slide down the root until his feet hit the edge of the nest.

“There you go,” Billy told him. He reached out and tugged Steve gently backward. Once he was safely on the floor, the root began its descent back to its home in the dirt. 

“What lives here?” Steve asked, marveling at the structure that surrounded them. 

“It’s something very dangerous,” Billy said. He narrowed his eyes, curling his hands into menacing looking talons. “A beast with claws and horns.”

Steve swallowed hard, holding onto Billy. His eyes flicked around, looking for any sign of the creature.

“It’s really strong and fast,” Billy continued. “And it’s the handsomest thing in the whole forest.”

Steve snorted and shoved at Billy’s chest, laughing as he realized what Billy was doing.

“You doofus.”

“What?” Billy grinned. “You asked.”

Steve looked out over the forest from above, seeing just how far it reached. He could see for miles. Even Steve’s village was visible from their perch, the tower of the manor jutting up among the distant, simple cottages.

“You can see everything from here.” “Yeah,” Billy told him. “That’s kinda the point.”

Steve ran a hand over the lip of the construct. “It's softer than it looks. Did you build it yourself?” Billy grimaced and looked away. Steve had noticed that every so often, one of his questions would strike a nerve. Whatever it was that was upsetting him, Billy never said and Steve didn’t push. 

“Hey,” Billy said, recomposing himself with a plastered-on smile. “You wanna see something cool?”

“Yeah!”

Billy rose to his feet and moved gracefully along the ridge of the nest. He circled around to one of the thick arms of the tree. Laying his palm against the bark, he whispered something under his breath that Steve couldn’t make out but that tickled his senses. As he spoke, vines began to materialize and weave themselves along the branch. They made their way down to the nest and began to ensnare it with long, green tendrils, weaving around until the outer walls were covered in an intricate pattern. Steve watched with wide eyes as the vines settled before bursting with pink blooms. 

“Pretty!” Steve ran a finger gently over one of the velvety petals. “How do you do that?”

“Magic,” Billy answered, plopping down beside Steve again. 

Drawn by the flowers, butterflies came to surround them. They fluttered around the nest, landing on the blooms to drink their fill of nectar. Steve was completely enraptured by it all. A butterfly landed on his shoulder and Steve marveled as he heard a tiny voice in his ear. 

“The forest is the town of trees

Where they live quite at their ease,

With their neighbors at their side

Just as we in cities wide.”

 “They can talk?” Steve asked, turning to Billy.

“Sort of,” Billy answered. He leaned back on one arm. He raised the other up, held out a finger and one of them landed there, lazily flapping its wings.  “They can only repeat things they’ve heard and usually only in those funny patterns.” 

“The world is so full

of a number of things,

I’m sure we should all

be as happy as kings.”

Billy smiled softly at it. “I think it makes it easier for them to remember.”

As though the flowers were an invitation, all sorts of things began to gather around and join them in the tree top. There were lizards that glimmered like jewels darting around and clinging fast to the rough tree bark. Birds flitted around the branches above them with feathers that seemed to glow under the sun as they chirped to each other in harmonies. Mushrooms scuttled around on tiny legs, laughing and chasing each other around at their feet.

“Is it what you expected?” Billy asked.

“Better,” Steve said, cradling one of the little mushrooms in his palms where it bounced happily. "What about unicorns?" Steve asked, eyes wide and bright. 

Billy's face fell again.

“No,” he answered solemnly. "They left… when she left."

"Who?"

Billy didn't answer. He went quiet, fists clenching at his sides.

"Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, Billy stood. He took two steps back to the edge of the nest and, without a word, dropped backward and fell head first from the tree. 

“Billy!”

Steve rushed to the side and leaned out, looking for any sign of the other boy but… there was nothing. It was as if he just vanished. 

“Billy,” he said, softer this time.

There was a sudden tap on his shoulder and Steve startled, reeling quickly around. Billy was there, standing behind him as if nothing had happened and cradling something to his chest. 

“What are you-” Steve started.

Billy cautiously opened his cupped hands and a little reptilian head poked out. Its scales were a fiery orange color, its belly a bright yellow and pale, tiny horns sprouted from its head. Its blue eyes raked over Steve suspiciously before crawling out of Billy's hands. Its long, slinky body scaled Billy's arm to perch on his shoulder. A lengthy tail curled around it, leathery little wings flapping.

Steve stared at the creature, open mouthed and starry eyed.

"Is that a dragon?!"

"Her name's Max," Billy said softly. "She's the only one left so I have to keep her extra safe. Even if she's a pain sometimes."

Max snorted indignantly and nipped at his ear. Billy flicked her nose in retaliation. "Most of the time!"

Steve smiled. "I think she's pretty."

Max turned her attention to the human in their midst and tilted her head curiously at him. She was hesitant and didn’t seem to trust him, much like Billy when they first met. Seeming to decide he wasn’t worth her time, she made her way down Billy’s body again. The mushrooms surrounded her immediately and began climbing all over her in delight. They bounced and circled her, trying to coax her to play with them much to Max’s clear displeasure. She squeaked her offense and tried to nip at them but they were fast. Steve knelt down and gently shooed them away and Max took the available escape by slithering up Steve’s arm instead. From her higher perch, she gave another indignant squeak at the little creatures below. 

Steve laughed and Billy felt his heart flutter in his chest.

Steve stepped carefully through the house, mindful of the creaking boards and the rickety third stair. He didn’t need anyone waking up. It was hard enough to get time to himself these days. Father insisted he had to learn to be a gentleman and that meant more tutors than ever before. That meant sitting at a table for hours getting rapped on the knuckles for picking up the wrong fork, people constantly pushing and pulling him upright to keep his posture perfect. It meant falling asleep when he was meant to be studying the great poets and his father being even more demanding of him. Steve didn’t have a free moment during the day and he presumed that was intentional. 

He donned the dark cloak he kept tucked in the cupboard beneath the staircase, pulling the hood over his head as he carefully crept through the kitchens to the servants’ entrance. It was small and hidden and much quieter than the ornate, front entrance. It also led directly to the gardens which was the fastest route to his goal, the reason for his father’s hawklike focus on his whereabouts. Steve slipped into the darkness of the forest. 

Navigating the high brush and dense undergrowth was second nature by now. Steve didn’t deviate from his original path, heading steadily deeper until he was certain he was no longer visible to the sleeping houses of the village. When he was sure it was safe, he paused and reached into his breast pocket. From it, he pulled the beautiful, clustered bluebell. It had survived through eight whole winters, never faltering. It was Steve’s most treasured possession. Cradling it in his hands, he whispered to it.

“Take me to him.”

He watched as the flower began to glow just as it had every time before. It wasn’t long before the rest of the forest followed suit. Dormant flowers opened and luminesced and the fireflies Steve so loved came to swarm around him in a flurry of light. He smiled as they rose around him, letting them guide him along the path. Steve loved this place so desperately. He felt wanted here. He felt whole in its wild embrace. Flowers and fireflies and so many other animals came out to greet him and followed along closely. He was no longer a predator here. He was a guest. A friend. But the most important creature was still missing from the scene. 

Steve kept going, deeper and deeper until he reached the heart. Dropping his hood, Steve smiled and approached the trunk. He laid his palm against the bark reverently. The energy pulsing beneath his touch was comforting and it never failed to inspire awe in him. There was so much life here. It was home to so many things. It was the epicenter of the magic that protected this forest and all that called it home. Steve laid his forehead against it and smiled. 

“May I go up?” he asked politely. There was a rush of warmth through him. Permission. Carefully, Steve found a familiar foothold and started to climb. Hand over hand, picking around for each safe place to put his weight, Steve made his ascent. He knew this tree better than his own home by this point and the creatures of the forest surrounded him in welcome.

He was just over halfway up when his confidence betrayed him. He got careless and missed his footing. Steve slipped, his eyes wide with fear as he realized he was plummeting back to the forest floor. His stomach was in his shoes and his heart raced as branches and leaves blew past him, none of them strong enough to catch himself on. His brain finally caught up with what was happening and Steve closed his eyes and let out a terrified scream. Then everything just… stopped. There was no rushing wind, no sensation of falling. Hesitantly, Steve peeked one eye open. 

Billy smirked down at him, his eyes shining with mirth and his arms supporting all of Steve’s weight where he cradled him against his chest. He held Steve as though he weighed nothing, his otherworldly strength making the task look laughably easy. 

“That’s five,” he teased, setting Steve back on his feet on the forest floor. “You’re such a clutz.”

“That is not five,” Steve argued, his cheeks flushing pink as he pouted at Billy. “I would have been fine if I hadn’t been distracted.”

“But you were,” Billy argued smugly, “and you fell and I saved your life. For the fifth time.” “You could have just helped me up in the first place,” Steve complained.

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes at the fairy. Billy was taller now, Steve only just surpassing him. His blonde curls were longer, thicker and wild looking. His appearance was starting to shift as Steve’s was. Baby fat still clung to his freckled face but the rest of him was getting steadily leaner. Steve had become more lanky than lean but his body was still plump and rounded in places, belying his tender age of fourteen. 

“Well, if you’re going to be that way, maybe I’ll just keep my gift to myself,” Steve huffed.

Billy’s eyes went wide and his smug face fell.

“Wha- I-” Billy spluttered. “You can’t do that! I saved your life!”

“And then you made fun of me.”

“That’s not how presents work,” Billy pouted. “You can’t just change your mind.”

Steve gave an exaggerated sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“Fine. I guess you can still have it,” he teased.

Though he tried to seem disinterested, Steve was too good at reading Billy by now to miss the undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. He reached into his pockets, finding the cool, leather binding he was searching for. Steve pulled out one of the small poetry books his tutor had given him, offering it up for Billy. He wasn’t a big fan. Most of the time, he didn’t understand the appeal of the pretty language and imagery. Why not just say what you meant? But Billy loved it. Steve had taught him how to read long ago and the other boy could never get enough despite his initial dismissal of reading and writing as “human stuff”. Steve wondered just how excited Billy would get if he knew about libraries. 

Billy took the book in his hands, turning it over with starry eyes.

“It’s a poetry book,” Steve told him. “I know you like them and I thought maybe you could teach the butterflies some new ones.”

Billy ran his palm over the cover, feeling the dips in the leather where the letters were painted in a glittering gold. 

“Aren’t they going to notice when you come to class without it?” Billy asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Probably. I’ll just tell them I lost it. It’ll take at least another month to get a new copy from the bookseller so I won’t have to sit through any more poetry lessons in the meantime.”

“No,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “Just lessons on how to eat and stand and dress and ugh! I don’t know how your kind has survived this long if you’re still learning all that.”

Steve laughed. “It’s not really learning how to do those things as much as it is learning the proper way. I have to learn how to be a gentleman.”

“That’s dumb,” Billy said, nose wrinkling. “Why can’t you just be a Steve?”

Steve felt his heart twinge at the question he’d asked himself so many times. Why couldn’t he just be him? Why wasn’t that enough? But those arguments with his father were fruitless and only widened the rift between them and left his mother upset. 

“It’s not all bad,” Steve told him instead. “Some of it I actually like. I’ve had a few dance lessons now and they’re actually enjoyable.”

Billy rolled his eyes harder, letting his head drop back and groaning dramatically.

"Why do humans have to put rules on everything?” He protested. “You don't learn dancing. You feel it."

"But sometimes the learning is the fun of it,” Steve told him. “Here. Let me show you." 

Steve stepped up to stand toe to toe with Billy, gently taking the book from his hands. Max glided over next to them, coming up to about Billy’s hip now and finally able to support her own weight with stronger, more practiced wings. She took the book from Steve and headed up the tree with it without being asked. It would go with all the other things Steve had gifted Billy, tucked away in a little hollow where it would be safe.

Billy looked flustered as Steve turned his attention back to him and took his right hand. 

“This hand goes here,” he said, guiding Billy’s hand to rest on his shoulder. 

“And this hand goes here.” He clasped Billy’s waist with his left hand, the palm fitting there like it was made to. “And…” He clasped Billy’s free hand in his, holding them up to shoulder height. 

“There,” Steve said, smiling at Billy. The boy’s whole face burned red, his blue eyes staring pointedly at Steve’s collarbone, refusing to meet his eyes. “This is stupid,” he grumbled but Steve didn’t pay it any mind. 

“It starts like this.” Steve took a careful step forward with his left foot, giving Billy time to move his own foot back. 

“Then this.” He moved his right foot forward and to the right, waiting for Billy to follow. Billy stared down, trying to keep up with Steve’s movements and pick up on the pattern.

"Don't look at your feet. Just follow my lead." 

"Why do you get to lead?" Billy protested. 

"Are you teaching me then?" 

"Alright, alright."

His feet came together, right foot back, left foot back and left, feet together and back where they started.

“See? It’s easy.” 

“I don’t know,” Billy said. “This is weird. And there’s not even any music.” “Sure there is,” Steve told him. “Just listen.”

Billy paused, straining his ears to hear but there wasn’t anything coming from the town he could pick up. 

“I think you’re hearing things.”

“Nope. It’s all right here,” Steve insisted. He started to move, counting out loud to himself in threes. 

One. The croak of a frog. Two, three. Crickets chirping. One. An owl hooted. Two, three. Doves cooed to each other in the trees. 

Billy stared at Steve in awe. He was listening to the forest. The sounds Billy knew so well he all but tuned them out by now started to jump out one by one, coming together into a beautiful symphony. Steve listened to the forest and heard it singing to them.

Billy moved with Steve, letting the human that had bonded so deeply with his forest guide him. Steve smiled encouragingly as they moved just a bit faster. “See,” he told Billy. “You’re getting it.”

Yes, Billy thought, he was. He let his wings spread out behind him, broad and strong and, with one powerful stroke, lifted them both off the ground. The rush of air swirled around them, picking up the leaves and flower petals in its pull. The fireflies followed in a brilliant display and they were surrounded by a glowing cyclone. Steve laughed brightly as he watched them but Billy’s eyes were only for Steve. When the human’s chestnut eyes met his, shining and happy, soft, he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Billy pulled Steve in closer to him. Their bodies pressed together and Billy hesitantly moved in. 

His eyes slid shut and his lips pressed against Steve’s. Steve breathed in sharply, unprepared for the sudden gesture and even less prepared for the spark it sent through him but that didn’t stop him from kissing Billy right back. It was awkward and chaste, neither of them knowing what they were doing, only that it felt… right. Like Steve’s hand on Billy’s waist, it fit. 

They separated and Billy pressed his forehead to Steve’s. 

“I… that was-”

“Good,” Steve finished, hearing the uncertainty in Billy’s voice and stopping it in its tracks. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” Billy asked softly. 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed back. He smiled wide and leaned in to kiss Billy all over again.

Steve laid in the tall grass, staring up at the stars and tracing the constellations with his finger. 

“That one’s Ursa Major. The bear,” he explained. Billy snorted a laugh and pushed the hair back off Steve’s forehead, the human’s head pillowed in his lap. 

“I think you’re seeing things.”

“No, really. Look,” Steve told him, tracing the lines again. “There’s the head and the body and there’s the legs.”

“They all just look like stars to me,” Billy said, shrugging. “What took you so long today? I thought you were done with your human lessons.”

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately. “They’re fancy human lessons, thank you very much. And yes, I’m done with my lessons.” Steve paused, staring up at the sky again. “I had to help with preparations. Apparently we have guests coming. Some nobleman and his wife and daughter are coming to stay with us.”

“Don’t they have their own home,” Billy scoffed. “Why do they need yours?”

“I think dad just wants to show me off,” Steve said. “He’s always so worried about appearances. I guess now that I’m eighteen, he figures I know enough to not embarrass him and he wants to compare me to the other nobles.”

Billy frowned at that. Why should Steve be measured against other humans? As if any of them could compare to his Steve anyway. Steve was so special no other human could ever hope to measure up. More important than that was how much Steve seemed to hate so much of this high society stuff he was forced into. 

“Why don’t you just leave?”

Steve laughed. “And go where?”

“Here.”

Steve looked up at Billy in surprise and Billy stared back, cradling Steve’s cheek in his palm. 

“You could stay. Live here with me. You never have to go back to that house or those people again.” He stroked his thumb back and forth over Steve’s soft skin. “We could be together all the time. Just like this.”

Steve looked at Billy longingly. To live here and leave all of the trappings of his life behind, all the expectations, to be with Billy, sounded like a dream. But…

“My mother,” Steve said softly, his face falling. “She always tells me I’ll disappear in here. She begs me not to come because she’s afraid of losing me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

Billy frowned, turning his head away.

“I want to,” Steve told him. “You know I do. Being with you is what I look forward to every day. It’s what’s kept me going this long. But I have a responsibility to my family too.”

“They have a responsibility to you, Steve. They’re supposed to love you. The real you. Not turn you into some performing pet to entertain their friends.”

Steve’s chest ached. He knew Billy was only angry on his behalf but hearing it so bluntly from the other boy’s lips made it hit so much harder. 

“They’re humans, Steve. They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed you just like they do everything else.”

“I’m human too, y’know,” Steve said softly, stopping Billy short. “Aren’t you worried I’ll ruin this place? Ruin you?”

Billy’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “That’s not… It's different,” Billy told him. “You’re different. You’re not just a human. You’re Steve.” Billy leaned down, folding himself almost in half to touch his forehead against Steve’s. “You’re my Steve.”

Steve reached up, tangling his fingers in the wild mane of Billy’s curls. “And you’re my Billy,” Steve said softly. “That’s never going to change.” 

They stayed that way for a moment, the two of them just soaking each other in. They didn’t have much longer before Steve would have to make his way out of the forest again. He would have to return home to his family and his duties and Billy would be left to wait for his return. 

As the sky turned from black to grey, Steve and Billy said their goodbyes and Steve took the familiar path through the forest, crept through the gardens and into the stillness of his home. He came through the kitchens, tucked his cloak back into the cupboard and rounded the stairs, ready for bed.

“Did you think you got away with it?”

Steve froze, ice flowing through his veins and chilling him to the bone. James Harrington was perched at the top of the stairs, his face stony, rage simmering beneath the surface and burning behind his eyes.

“Father, I-”

“Do you think this is a game, Steven? Do you enjoy getting the whole town talking about the Harrington boy making deals with the fae?”

“I haven’t-” Steve pleaded but his father cut him off harshly once again.

“I’ve given you everything, boy, and this is your idea of gratitude? Have you any idea how much your education cost?”

Steve glared at his father, his jaw set. “I never asked for that.”

“No. Of course not. You just expect everything handed to you. You have no regard for this family or how hard I worked to make the Harrington name mean something!”

“I don’t care about titles,” Steve snapped. “I don’t care about classes or all these made up rules! Why do humans have to put rules on everything?!” 

The second it left his mouth, Steve knew he’d made a big mistake. The silence was deafening between them. His father’s face went pale, his expression horrified.

“I-I… I didn’t-”

“So it’s true,” James hissed. “You’ve seen the devil, boy.”

That made Steve angry. No one would speak about Billy that way in his presence.

“The only devils I’ve seen, father,” he spat, “are among men.”

It was quiet again, the rage in his father visibly building. He went purple with it before his arm flew out and he grabbed hold of Steve’s upper arm with a bruising grip. 

“Clearly you can’t be trusted with your own safety,” he growled. “So I’ll have to save you from yourself.”

James dragged Steve along by the arm, pulling him so forcefully Steve struggled to keep up. He tried to fight his father’s grip but the man’s hand was like iron around him. He hauled Steve up and up and up, dragging him up the stairs to the tower. At the top of the staircase, he threw Steve forcefully through the open door. Steve hit the floor and slid, his back colliding with the opposite wall.

He cradled his arm, staring at his father in anger and fear.

“The lady Buckley will be arriving in three days time,” James roared. “And when that happens, you will be wed.”

“What? You can’t-!”

“I can and I will! And until that happens, you will remain here. Perhaps you’ll come to your senses by then.” 

His father slammed the door shut and Steve’s stomach dropped when he heard the lock click. 

“No.” Steve scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the door. “No!” 

The handle wouldn’t turn no matter how much he tried. In blind fear and rage, he pounded against the heavy, wooden door over and over, screaming to be let out. They couldn’t do this to him. They couldn’t lock him in here like some prisoner. He screamed himself hoarse, desperate for his freedom, wishing he’d never left the forest and stayed with Billy like he wanted. He wished he’d stayed home.

Billy was sick with worry, pacing circles around the heart of the forest. Something was wrong. Steve hadn’t come back yesterday. Not in the light of day nor the dead of night. Steve had never just not shown up before and Billy was at a loss. He couldn’t exactly go looking. What was he meant to do? Walk the streets of the village asking if any of them had seen Steve? Billy could never bring himself to set foot on the desecrated land, the stolen forests of men. And if he was seen… It was sickening to even think about.

No. Billy could never go to Steve. But he wasn’t alone in his concern. The whole of the forest was restless. He needed answers. They all needed to know if he was safe. Billy stopped pacing and reached out a hand. A mocking bird flew down from the trees and settled on the offered perch, watching Billy intently. 

“I need you to go to the village. Listen to everything. If anything happened to Steve, they’ll be talking about it, right?”

“Listen to everything,” the bird repeated, mimicking Billy’s voice perfectly. 

“Good. Go.” 

The bird flew off, leaving Billy behind. It flitted from tree to tree, lighting on branches and making its way through the forest to the village. It was a lot of ground to cover for a little bird but she would do her best. Everywhere she saw humans together, she would land and listen. 

“That Jim is so handsome, isn’t he?” 

“I heard he used to be a knight before he came back here. Such a shame about his daughter though.”

Nothing about Steve at the laundry pool then. She took flight again. The window of the bakery was her next perch.

“I don’t know how they expect us to finish such a big cake in such a short time.”

“They’re paying us well enough to rush it. Don’t complain.”

“Still, it’s not going to be nearly as pretty as it could have been.”

Nothing here either. She took off again, this time to the town square. There were many humans gathered here, all setting up for some sort of gathering. The ladies weaving flowers into an archway were where she found what she needed.

“I hear the Buckley girl got caught in bed with her handmaiden,” one woman half whispered. “Everyone’s talking about it. They say it’s why she hasn’t been able to find a suitor back home.”

The other woman clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How unfortunate. She’s such a pretty girl too.”

“Still,” the first woman said again. “I don’t think it’s quite on the same level as our lordling. I wonder if they know what they’re signing up for. Disappearing into the woods like that and coming back ever since he was a child? It just doesn’t make sense unless he…”

“Oh yes,” the other agreed. “I heard from one of the servants that he confirmed it himself. Confessed it right to his father’s face that he made a deal with them.”

“Oh dear. I think someone ought to warn the Buckley’s, don’t you? That’s nothing to muck about with. Imagine the effect such a thing might have on their children.”

“You’d better not,” the second woman hissed. “If it gets out we blabbed to the Buckley’s and ruined this arrangement, Lord Harrington will make our lives a living hell and then throw us to the wolves.” She fastened on the last flower, wiping her hands on her apron. “Young Lord Steven will be wed tomorrow and that’s that.”

There it was. That was what she needed. 

“And that’s that,” she repeated to herself, startling the women below. 

“Oh, you nasty thing,” the first woman scolded. “Shoo! Off with you.”

She swung a rag at the mocking bird, chasing her off the archway. That was okay. She had to get back anyway. She had to report back to Billy. She made her way back through the forest just before the sun began to set. Billy was waiting, curled up in the hollow of the tree with his treasures. He had the book of poetry open, the binding of it cracking in places and worn smooth in others. Max was curled up around the rest of the trinkets from their human to protect it. Only Billy was allowed to touch the hoard. The mockingbird landed on Billy’s knee, shaking out her feathers and looking up at him.

“Well,” Billy asked, setting the book in his lap. “Did you find anything out? Is he okay?”

The mockingbird lowered her head, hesitating. 

“Young Lord Steven will be wed tomorrow and that’s that.”

Billy’s heart sank. No. That couldn’t be right. Steve wouldn’t marry someone else. He loved Billy. He said so.

“I have a responsibility to my family too.”

His stomach sank and he felt like he would be sick. His chest tightened and his vision blurred with tears. 

“I’m human too, y’know. Aren’t you worried I’ll ruin this place? Ruin you?”

Billy gasped for breath around a sob. He should have known better. You couldn’t trust humans. They take everything and leave you bleeding. He looked down at the book in his lap and the overwhelming grief was replaced with anger. How could Steve do this? How could his Steve, the one who gave him everything, who chased the loneliness away, be so heartless? How could he abandon him to loneliness all over again?

Billy roared, slamming the book shut and throwing it as hard as he could. It spiraled away through the trees, crashing somewhere out of sight. He moved to the pile of things Steve had given him. The stuffed animal, the flower crowns they made together, the toys and all the pretty rocks he found but refused to take because they belonged to the forest, every last thing was thrown from the tree. One by one, they flew from view, landing wherever they may. Billy never wanted to see them again. He never wanted to see Steve again. He never even wanted to hear his name. 

Never again would a human be allowed in his forest. Never again would anyone be allowed in his heart. 

When it was all gone, Billy stood there panting. His chest and shoulders heaved with every breath. He threw his head back, letting out a roar that echoed through the trees and rattled the ground. Everything fell silent. So painfully, deafeningly silent. He was so angry. He wanted to fight, to hurt, to take. But there was nothing left to throw. Every sign Steve had been here was gone… Steve was gone. And just like that, the anger leached out of him. It dissipated like the morning fog and all that was left was the hurt. All he had left was an empty sadness. There was a hole in his heart. Billy dropped to his knees and wept. 

He wept for what felt like an eternity. He wept until he had no tears left to give. Max curled around him, laying her big head over his shoulder to pull him close to her scaled chest. She had never seen Billy hurt like this. Nothing here did save for the trees, the last living witnesses to his first earth shattering heartbreak. Only they and Billy remembered the forest that was and the wound of losing their matriarch, Billy’s mother. Only they could see the scars it left behind.

When he was exhausted, Max carried him out of the hollow and up into the nest. He laid there in silence, draping himself over the edge and playing idly with one of the pink flowers that still decorated his home. The sun had sunk down, giving way to darkness. Billy just felt… numb. He glanced up, his eyes landing on the village and sending another spike of pain through his heart. But something gave him pause. 

The tower. There was a light in the window. Billy had never seen it lit before. He was filled with anger again. Perhaps that was Steve’s bride. She must be up late, glowing in the excitement of tomorrow and knowing she would have Steve all to herself. Billy growled. He needed to see her. He needed to know just who would presume to steal Steve away from him.

Billy got to his feet, brow furrowed and jaw set. He dropped from the tree, free falling until he came close to the canopy of the smaller trees. His wings snapped open and he pulled up sharply into a glide. He let himself coast on the air currents as he made his way silently over the woods instead of through them. Let the humans see him and heaven help any of them that had something to say about it. He approached the tower, pulling up to land on the outer sill. The gust from his wings blew the windows inward, extinguishing the lamp that had led him here so the glow of the moon was the only light pouring into the room. 

A gasp drew Billy’s attention to the corner of the room where a figure was huddled. There. This had to be her. But something didn’t feel quite right. It was no woman, he realized. He sniffed the air and picked up the familiar scent of Steve. Steve and tears. Billy stepped down off the sill, bare feet hitting the floor soundlessly. He could see Steve better now, bathed in pale blue light. He was curled in a ball, his eyes puffy and cheeks tearstained. He looked so small. So lost. In an instant, Billy was brought back to that first night in the forest and he could see clear as day the lonely little boy who’d come into his forest looking to disappear. 

Steve half laughed and half sobbed as he realized Billy was really here. He sniffed and wiped furiously at his eyes, turning to Billy with a watery smile.

“Are you here to steal me?” he asked, his voice unsteady. Billy’s heart skipped a beat.

“Are you here to steal me?”

“Why would I do that?”

Billy dropped to one knee in front of Steve, cradling his face in his hands so gently. He leaned in and kissed Steve for all he was worth, searing his claim into Steve’s very soul. Steve returned it with all the need and fear and relief that had ruled his world for the last two days. Fresh tears spilled over and as they pulled apart, Billy brushed them away.

“Forever and ever.”

Steve choked out a sob and threw himself into Billy’s arms. Billy held him tight, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. He didn’t dare let go, lest Steve disappear all over again but he soothed him just the same. 

“I’m here,” he told him. “I’ve got you now. You’re mine. My Steve.”

“And you’re my Billy,” Steve cried. 

The sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs pulled them from the moment, reminding them they weren’t out of danger just yet. Billy growled, standing to his full height and facing the door with his wings spread wide. He dared any of them to try and lay a finger on Steve. He would kill every last one of them. 

“Billy,” Steve pleaded. “No. Please. Just get me out of here.”

Everything in him wanted to stay. He wanted to make an example of them for anyone who would ever dream to take Steve from him again. But…

“Please,” Steve breathed, leaning against Billy’s back. “I want to go home. Take me home.”

It was a plea Billy couldn’t ignore. They were nearly here. If they were going to run, they would have to act fast. Billy grabbed Steve and ran for the window. The wooden door burst open behind them, men screaming at them to halt. But Billy paid them no heed. He gripped Steve to his chest and dove through the open window, ascending steeply. 

“Steven!” a voice boomed. “Don’t you dare!”

Billy paused, turning to look at the arrogant old man that leaned out the window. The man that dared to spew threats. Billy clasped Steve to him and breathed in deep, letting out a roar that shook the very ground. All the glass in the house shattered, the sharp tones ringing through the air in resonance with the frightening sound that poured from deep in Billy’s chest. The look of fear in the man’s eyes gave Billy more satisfaction than it probably should but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned away, back toward the forest. Back toward home. 

“I’ve got you,” he told Steve gently. “We’ve got you.” Below them, the forest began to light up, welcoming them both in. 

“You belong to the forest now.”

Steve clung to him. “Part of the forest,” he said, his voice soft and reverent.

“That’s right. And it will always protect you. I will always protect you.”

[balkanradfem]

Tree care #3 : Tree pruning

Do trees need pruning? Every wild forest in the world has big, successful trees never touched by human hands; trees do not need us to cut down their limbs. Trees know what they’re about; they want to grow up, grow big, be as rich and tall as possible, possibly house a squirrel or a bee hive. Have a few little nests with tiny birds on their branches.

Humans mostly prune trees for their own selfish reasons: it’s too big for their yard, they built a road there and now lower branches are obstructing their field of vision, they put power lines over the tree and the tree has now caught up, they want to keep a big tree small and ungrowing, the tree branches are pushing too close to their house and blocking up the windows, the tree is too big and could present a danger if it fell down, they want trees to grow too close together, and for purely aesthetic reasons, to make the trees ‘prettier’ (no sense of respect for the beauty of wild nature).

There are some benefits trees can experience with good pruning, but I want to go over the disasters that will happen to trees as a result of malpruning, that people often do.

1. Over-pruning. No matter which tree you prune or why, you should never take more than 30% off of the tree. For some specific trees, it shouldn’t even be more than 10%. The width of all branches on a tree, when added up, is equal to the width of the trunk. If you take away more than 30% of it, the tree will suddenly find herself without 30% of her body, and she will freak out, and immediately grow back the missing width in thin, unruly branches that are called water sprouts. Here’s how that looks like:

If you cut these off, they will immediately grow back double in quantity, because the tree will want to maintain her body volume even at the cost of us thinking 'thats not pretty’. So the way to deal with this, is to firstly, avoid it, do not stress the tree out in re-growing her body back in small branches, you will have created a tree that needs to be constantly pruned again, or you have to leave the water sprouts to grow for 10-15 years before they turn into real branches, and can be cleaned up a little without the tree freaking out.

2. Second mistake is topping a tree. This means to cut off the tree’s top, as an attempt to make the tree smaller. This can be done to fruit trees, to keep them forever small and keep the fruit low and easy to harvest; but you never want to top a big, non-fruit bearing tree. This tree will become a mess, it will not stay small, it will explode in water-sprouts or get multiple branches competing as a new lead. It is also likely to get sick with rot, create a new, unsightly top from water-sprouts, and it will stay unnatural and weird-looking, possibly forever. These are examples of what can happen after you top a tree:

In the last example on the right, see how this branch on the left starts to grow horizontally, and then changes the direction to grow vertically up? It became the new top, however this tree had rot introduced into the main trunk, which you can see how the tree is already black and sick from the inside. The rot will reach its way all the way down to the roots, so this tree isn’t like to live a long life after getting topped like this.

Another problem with a topped tree is that the re-grown branches will be very weak, poorly attached to the rotten core, so the tree is very likely to have branches torn off, or fall during a storm. Tree-topping can create dangerous, risky trees out of healthy and safe ones.

3. Next thing you should never do to a tree is cutting her branches in half, either to shorten them, or create some sort of shape. Trees shaped like a ball or a cube are not pruned well. These trees will not stay that way, they will have branches dying from rot, trying to out-grow the shape constantly, or exploding with water sprouts so they have to be cut over and over again; this creates a lot of additional work of trying to force a tree into a box, the tree will eventually get very unhealthy and not very happy about losing it’s ability to grow up.

With this knowledge I’ve given you, please shame everyone who tops trees next to the road, I know you’ve seen trees inexpertly topped off, by people who acted as if they know what they’re doing, and feel free to judge all cube-shaped and water-sprouted trees as well, these are Mistakes people did to trees.

“As soon as a man emerged from the caves, with cutting implements, he went off and cut off the top of the tree, and it felt good. They’ve been at it ever since, and Plant Amnesty has been trying to convince people not to do that.” Plant Amnesty (source for this entire post)

Click here to learn how to prune trees correctly! (coming soon)

Click here for post on Tree Roots! Here for Root Flare!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

June Prompt #2- Carpe Diem

A POINT OF NO RETURN FLASHBACK 

A/N: Shh. It’s still June. Couldn’t leave past Clara and Ezra in the past, so here is another flashback from those three happy years on the farm before everything fell apart. This is closer to the three year mark in the PoNR timeline. I loosely based the stream behind Clara’s farm on the photo below- it’s one I took a few years back at Enfield Falls in NY. (The darker parts right under the small waterfalls are the deeper pools) 

Request: “skinny dipping” from @cannedsoupsucks​ 

WC: 1.6k

Warning: oh just a little hint of zesty times. can’t really skinny dip without those. 

Seasons turned quickly on Kamrea. 

The Thulian harvest spanned only three weeks before the rains came, soaking the land and raising the water level in the streams. After the month-long deluge, there was a blip in the weather patterns lasting anywhere from a few days to a week or two when the combination of the planet’s position and the clarity of a sky scrubbed clean of clouds made for breathtaking views. During that indeterminate window, the Vernal Star was at its brightest, giving the world a golden yellow glow, but the cerulean hued ocean planet Lao and its moon Brizo were also visible to the naked eye, and at certain times of day the light refracting off of Lao’s waters made the whole sky flash green. When the winter came it did so in a hurry, too, sweeping in under the dim purple light of the Hibernal Star, flash freezing the fields and orchards, and turning the Lakelands to ice. Snow flurried lazily for a fortnight or so and melted before it ever added up to an inconvenient amount. Before long the rotation of seasons was pivoting back towards planting and tending and time to get to work before the harvest crept up again.  

To an outsider, someone who hadn’t grown up there, life on Kamrea might easily seem rushed, stressful. Clocks ticked and calendar pages filled with Xs as Kamreans bustled along to keep with their constantly shifting time constraints and limitations. Nothing lasted long, and if you blinked you could miss things like the malachite color of the spring starshine bouncing off the waves on Lao or the iridescent glow Brizo gave off, even the faint but sweet smell in the air that signaled the beginning of the Thulian growing season, and you would have to wait an entire year for another chance.  

But to those who had spent enough time there, whether they grew up on the fertile planet like Clara or had transplanted themselves on Kamrean soil as Ezra had done, the pace and rigidity of the seasons wasn’t something to fight or fear. Instead it was a constant reminder that life was happening now, not later, that there was beauty in catching a moment that was meant to be fleeting, in appreciating small slices of time. Each day came with the potential to see or hear or feel something never experienced before, and the potential to miss those moments seemed only to invigorate the Kamrean philosophy of making every moment count. 

Which is precisely what I am doing. 

Ezra looked up between the branches of the crater-oak that the swing he and Clara occupied hung from, at the thunderhead that had been gathering in the sky over the last hour or so. Kamrea was about to experience one of those split-second switches, where it would cease to be Harvest season with the first raindrop to plummet from the fat-bellied clouds. Any minute, they and the fields and the barn and the town over the hills and everything else on this side of the globe would be caught in a deluge and soaked to the bone, to the roots, to the bedrock. He moved his arm from the backrest of the wooden swing to wrap around Clara’s waist, hand resting at her hip. 

Any minute now. 

Looking back down at Clara, he saw that she had taken her eyes off of the rippling stream that the swing was situated on the bank of, and turned her attention skyward as well. What little daylight that hadn’t been squeezed out by the clouds and managed to make it down through the foliage lit the profile of her face in clean, green-tinted hues and he briefly wondered if other people felt this level of awe and devotion when they were with the one they cared about most in life, or if this was unique to the two of them. If they don’t then I truly pity them. 

He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed, the small motion one he had seen her do countless times before but still always bringing a flush of warmth to his chest. “End of another season.” She gave him a smile that quirked to one side, a mixture of pride and nostalgia and love for her farm twinkling in her eyes to make her face light up more than the leaf-filtered, cloud strangled starshine could. Oh, look at you, my Clara. Her tongue poked out then to wet her lips, and she stood from the swing, both of her hands clasping around the one of his that had been at her waist to pull him to his feet. “We should get inside before it starts coming down, or we’ll be soaked.” 

We certainly will be, that’s correct. 

“I think that you are absolutely right, Huckleberry.” Ezra took his turn to smirk then, catching her completely off guard as he stood only to use her own grips on his much larger hand against her. Pulling back, he yanked her into his arms, the second one swiftly enveloping her to make sure she was tucked tightly against his body, and then he jumped from the bank into the stream, plunging them both into one of the naturally formed deep pools at the base of one of the stream’s small cascades. Clara’s surprised gasp of his name devolved into a laughing shriek as their clothing suctioned to their skin, their hair dripping in their eyes, rivulets of cool, clear liquid running down their cheeks.  

The pool that he had jumped into was shaped like a circular basin, cut and carved by the force of the water spilling over the tiered rocks that brought the upper level of the stream to meet the level at the bank. It wasn’t rushing with extreme force now due to the dry harvest season, but once the rains came and filled the stream past its bursting point, the water would fall in relentless torrents that over centuries had created a deeper pocket in the streambed, an ephemeral pool that was currently deep enough for both of them to be submerged when he jumped, but still shallow enough for him to be able to touch the bottom. 

He set his feet down, thankful that the two of them had kicked their shoes off before sitting on the swing, both pairs still dry under the tree, and Clara wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck as his hands bolstered beneath the pockets of her denim shorts. Her eyes were still wide with shock, her lips wide in a laughing grin, and her sopping wet ponytail sprayed him with droplets as she shook her head. “Ezra! What are you- why did you do-” 

Before she could get a full question out, ripples started appearing on the surface of the water, a slow pattering sound accompanying them as rain started to fall, hitting the leaves of the crater-oak and plopping into the stream. “Well, it’s like you said,” he leaned in and used his tongue to collect a bead of water from in front of her ear, lips brushing her skin as she shivered and clutched him closer. “It was inevitable that we would end up water-logged one way or another.” 

He pulled back in time to see her breastbone sink, her breathing labored from his warm tongue on her damp skin, her light colored tank top nearly see through and plastered to her curves. Ezra had seen Clara come in from the rain. He’d seen her after a shower, Kevva, he’d seen her in the shower. He had seen her get wet when making adjustments to the irrigation system, or when he’d splashed her with soapy dishwater in the kitchen. But he had never seen this- the unexpected look in her eyes, the rush of excitement, the sheer absurdity of trying to avoid getting rained on and ending up in chest high water instead. You are the most ravishing woman in all of Kevva’s creation, Clara.

She laughed, pressing and rolling the curve of her forehead against his before replacing it with her lips. “Yes, but now our clothes are all-” 

Ezra took one of his hands away from where he held her to work its way between her shirt and her body, pulling upwards until his fist with the material bunched in it surfaced, and he peeled the soaked garment over her head. Making expert work of the clasp on her bra, he rid her of that, too. Before he returned his hand to the globe of her ass beneath the water, he let it trail down the valley of her chest, thumb and pinky grazing the inside curves of her breasts and pulling a breathy sound from her throat. “What was it you were saying about our clothes, Huckleberry?” 

He tilted his chin, cocking his head to one side as he switched hands beneath the water, bringing his other one between their bodies to the zipper of her shorts, yanking down as she stuck both of her hands under his shirt, running up the sides of his body as she followed his lead and rid him of his top. Flinging the olive green shirt that now looked black with how soaked it was onto the bank, Clara reached under the water to help him free her from the cutoffs she wore, their eyes meeting as their wet fingers bumped together in their hurry. 

“Just that we need to get them off, Ezra.” That clean, innocent light in her eyes that was filtering through the trees just moments ago was gone, replaced with a burning desire that the stream nor the rain could do anything to quell. “We need to get them off, right now.”

.

.

.

*taken from JSTOR:  Gathering flowers as a metaphor for timely enjoyment is a far gentler, more sensual image than the rather forceful and even violent concept of seizing the moment. It is not that as a culture we can’t understand what it means to harvest something when it’s ready—we do have related metaphors like “making hay while the sun shines,” after all. But there is something in the more Hollywood phrasing “seize the day” that has clearly resonated with people in the last thirty years. We understand the phrase to be, rather than encouraging a deep enjoyment of the present moment, compelling us to snatch at time and consume it before it’s gone, or before we’re gone.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories/characters, please feel free to let me know! :) 

Tags: @something-tofightfor​ @alraedesigns​ @pheedraws​ @shoopidly​ @fific7​ @valkblue​ @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @tobealostwanderer​ @paracosmenthusiast​ @gracie7209​ @dihra-vesa​

[growingsucculents]

HOW TO WATER A SUCCULENT

Succulents are different compared to most houseplants. They have special watering needs and if you don’t pay attention to them, the plants will likely die. For most people watering is the most tricky part of succulent care, so to help you I made this watering guide.

How often do you need to water a succulent?

Succulents store water in their fleshy leaves and they’re used to living in a dry climate. To really have a thriving plant you should mimic these growing conditions in your home. So, when do you water your succulents and how much? In general you should only water the succulent when the soil it's in is completely dry. You can check this by using a wooden skewer or a toothpick and putting it in the soil. If the soil sticks to the object, it’s still too wet and you should wait a little longer before watering. Depending on the type of soil, the type of succulent, the climate you’re in, the season you’re in, where your plant is positioned… the frequency of watering will be different. On average you should water your succulents once every two weeks, but it’s better to check your plant instead of holding on to a watering schedule.

What are the signs of underwatering?

When a succulent is underwatered, it will let you know. There are a few ways your plant can do this:

1. The leaves will get wrinkles;

2. The leaves will curl inwards;

3. The leaves will be thin and look deflated;

4. The leaves will turn brown and die before falling off.

(see this post i made for more pictures)

What are the signs of overwatering?

Overwatering is very dangerous with succulents. Luckily succulents also show when they're being overwatered, so you can step in before it's completely too late. If your succulent's leaves are turning yellow, you should cut back on watering and keep the soil dry for a while so the plant doesn't drown and rot. If you keep on overwatering repeatedly in a short period of time, the plant will develop root rot and eventually die.

How (much) to water your succulent?

Because people are often scared of overwatering their succulent, they don't water their plant properly. They think their plant only needs a little amount of water to thrive, but that's not entirely true. Succulents don't need to be watered often, but when you do you should water the soil thoroughly. The water should run back out of the pot through the drainage holes. So instead of giving the plant only a few drops of water every few days, opt to completely soak the soil every 2 weeks or so. If you have the plant sitting on top of a saucer, don't forget to empty the saucer after you watered the plant and all of the water has run out through the drainage holes.

[thepixiepaige]

Shes still got another 2-3k in her I think but here, have the first couple thousand words because I can't sleep.

Tw: misaligned kink, huge misunderstandings,bruises/marking, rough sex,

Pairings: reki/langa, adam/langa, (and soon adam/langa/reki wheneverI can get my tippy typers on board again u.u)

⛓❄⛓

Langas voice went low, smoothed over, and languid around a single syllable as soon as Reki's hands touched his throat, tipped his head up, and held him there with hard, calloused fingers.

 "Oh."

Reki flailed back, pulling his hand away in a flourish of motion, "Oh?! Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry I got kind of carried away. "

 Langa grabbed for his fingers, placed them against his throat again almost eagerly. "No! It was good. I... I liked it."

 When Reki's eyes snapped to his face, Langa could almost feel his uncertainty. He shifted his hips up against Reki encouragingly, working a shocked and bashful huff from his lips.

 Reki made a noise like he was drowning and met the motion eagerly. His fingers on Langa's throat stayed gentle.

 "Reki please," Langas voice, high and sharp, begged through their shared gasps. Settled, bone dry and cutting, against Reki's heart.

 He jerked his hands away again, fit them tight around the subtle arch of Langa's waist instead and fucked into him harder. The sound of skin and wailed gasps, the burn of Langa's fingers as he gripped at Reki's wrists and held felt like an apology.

 ⛓❄⛓

 "Would you be upset? If I saw Adam."

 Reiki’s fingers slipped on the truck he was tightening, sending the bolt, the wrench, and the entire board flying even as he shot out clumsy limbs to try stopping them all. “Upset? What? No. Of course not. Why would I be upset? Should I be upset?”

 Langa’s smiles were always a sight to behold. And this one was no different, small, and hidden behind the lock of hair that fell in front of his face as he ducked his head. When he looked back up the smile was still there but it was tinged with something more… heated. Steely.

 “I want to try some of the things you can’t do, Reki. It’s not that I don’t love you. Not that I don’t think you wouldn’t try. But I don’t think that’s fair to you. I don’t want to hurt you but I- I just want to know what it’s like. I think he could do that for me. With me.”

 Reki felt his heart break and mend and stutter all within the span of a minute.

 “Oh?” he said and then followed it with another, softer. “Oh.” He swallowed as he bent to pick up the fallen board and set it back to rights. “Yeah, of course. It’s been years, Langa. I’m not scared of that old asshole anymore. He doesn’t upset me. Of course you can see Adam.”

 Langa’s face lit up and Reki knew he’d done something Good. When he leaned in to kiss him Reki laughed, warm and bright, relieved by the touch he hadn’t known he’d been doubting. He brought his hand up to run gentle fingers through Langa’s faded blue hair. He pulled the taller man down to him, kissed the place where his hair was growing in dark at the roots. 

 “Thank you. Thank you. God, I love you.”

 ⛓❄⛓

 It started with a single day in an another wise innocuous week. The first of the month and a Saturday. Reki knew it by the fact that he had a showcase to work. One of the rare sort where he had to be a professional and talk numbers and couldn’t have Langa by his side so they could goof off and demo the new builds. 

 “I’m gonna see Adam today,” Langa whispered into his shoulder, pressing kisses into the side of Reki’s throat as he tried to shave in the foggy bathroom mirror. Reki angled his head to the side with a hesitant expression that he schooled fast, a skip in his heart that he ignored. 

 “Yeah, have fun with that,” he taunted, sarcasm dripping from his teeth as he tried to run the razor down his cheek without taking his entire face off. Langa’s eyes met him in the mirror. Watched his face as Langa slipped his hands beneath the towel wrapped around Reki’s hips and out of sight. 

Reki dropped the razor into the sink with a groan like satin, gripped the edge of the basin, and held on.

 He came home after Reki did, limping, and favoring one of his sides as he moved but his smile was huge and the relaxation in his frame was obvious in the way he poured himself onto the couch and into Reki’s lap. Reki snorted, cupped his palm over Langa’s shoulder, and kneaded at the knotted muscle beneath. 

 “Jesus, what did he do? Throw you into moving traffic?”

 Langa’s voice was soft and warm, “Something like that.”

 “Did you have fun?”

 “Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

 Reki chewed on his words for a few seconds, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m glad.”

 Langa snorted then.

 “No really, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself, you ass.” Reki pressed with the heel of his hand into the shoulder he had been massaging, feeling Langa’s entire body go taut with something that didn’t quite look like pain. He slid his hand around under Langa’s chin and tipped his head up. “I am, like, a nice person sometimes. Even about him.”

 “You are a very nice person, Reki. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

 Reki kissed him soft and then kissed him harder. Langa went liquid beneath him, rolling to his back and hissing in pain even as he tried to snake himself up for more contact.

 “God, what did y’all do?” Reki laughed.

 Langa pulled back, eyes focused and searching as he pushed Reki’s hair back from his face. 

 “Do you wanna know?”

 Reki thought about it. Remembered months of being jealous and bitter and mean over Adam’s focus on Langa. Over Langa’s returned interest. Remembered the fights and bloody knuckles when the two of them had finally had enough of trying to force too much emotion into wild, reckless, competition. Remembered the days of Langa forcing the two of them to sit down and actually talk it out and smooth things over into an antagonistic truce. 

 The resolution they eventually reached had taken even longer than Adam and Cherry’s had. But Reki got the feeling they’d done a lot more of their, "working it out" with their dicks out, though. He’d rather be forced to endure another month of Adam trying to force-feed him concrete than take part in that.

 And now, years later, that truce still held. Adam had even been at the housewarming party when Langa and Reki had finally decided that paying rent on two apartments was ridiculous when neither of them was ever alone in their own place for more than a few hours at a time.

 “Nah, y’all can have your thing. Just- don’t get hurt too badly, yeah?”

 ⛓❄⛓

 Langa did get hurt. Regularly.

 Watching him strip down in the washroom at the end of another day, one where he knew Langa had spent at least an hour or two at Adam’s, Reki was confronted with the darkening spread of newly forming bruises up the side of his partner’s thighs, cresting high onto his hip and over the curve of one side of his ass. The skin was flushed red, tight, and broken open in a few spots and-

 “Holy shit is that from Adam’s fucking board?!” 

 Langa turned, looking over his shoulder and pressing his long fingers into the forming crossbar shape of the crucifix skateboard Ainosuke had used in their final beef so many years before. “Yeah, kind of-” he breathed, voice low.

 Reki reached out to run his fingers over the mark before laying his palm, cool and comforting in comparison, over the whole of the wretched bruise already blooming. “I didn’t even realize he still had that thing. What the hell are y’all doing?”

 Langa grimaced, pressed into Reki’s palm, “It’s a lot to explain. You could... come. If you wanted.” His expression was nervous, vulnerable, as he watched Reki’s face.

 “Pffft. Trust me, I want nothing to do with whatever adrenaline junkie wild shit y’all get up to. I’m gonna keep my ass firmly planted in a design chair and just… stay out of it.”

 He reached around Langa to start the bath, letting the water warm before nudging the Canadian into it. “Let me wash your hair?”

 “Yeah. Please.”

 The next time it was a nasty cut on the top of his ankle, scraped skin bordering a gash that wrapped itself from the front of his leg almost entirely around to his achilles. It was stitched in one spot toward the center. Neat little sutures that were bathed in antiseptic but kept open to the air. His wrists were bruised as well, shocking and dark against his pale skin.

 “Langa, what the fuck!?”

 Reki shoved a set of chopsticks into his mouth to free his hands up to shove the pot he was stirring off the burner and shut it off. He spat them out unceremoniously and made his way into the entryway in a flurry of grasping arms and spinning limbs.

 “I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m good, Reki. Look at me.” Langa held his frantic partner's face in his hands. “I’m fine.”

 “What happened?”

 “I panicked a little. But it’s alright. Tadashi took me to the emergency room and I got stitched up in no time. Right as rain.”

 Reki’s expression went stormy, “Tadashi took you?”

 Langa turned his hands, fit his fingers over Reki’s mouth. “Not because Adam didn’t want to. It’s complicated. He felt bad about it, I promise. It’s okay, Reki. It was just an accident.”

 Reki believed him, kissed his fingertips where they still rested over his lips, and huffed out a frustrated noise. “I don’t want you getting hurt, Langa. This is the same shit as before and I want you fucking -”

 Langa’s laugh was bright and unexpected, still rare in its verbosity. “No, I can promise you this is nothing like before. Trust me.”

 Later that night Reki’s fingers worked fast over the touch screen of his phone;

[Text to Adam:] hurt him like that again and they wont be able to find all your pieces

[Text from Adam:] Don’t be jealous, Third Wheel. It’s a shitty look on you.

 ⛓❄⛓

 Reki did trust Langa. He trusted him with everything he had, with everything he was. And Langa was happy. For all of his bruises and pains and cuts, he came home from his visits every week or so sated and loose-limbed in a way that Reki could only remember having seen on him under street lights, stretched out and panting after landing tricks that felt impossible beneath the watchful eyes of the stars.

 That must have been why, when Langa came home with what was very clearly not a skateboarding injury, Reki saw red, blood boiling hot and livid with a rage that ached all through.

 “He’s fucking you? You’re letting him. Fuck. You.”

 Reki had his hands fisted in the collar of Langa’s shirt, had him pulled down to his face in a vice-like grip that threatened to tear the fabric at its seams. Beneath the stretched opening was a bruise in the shape of teeth, skin so close to broken it looked almost black at the spots Reki could almost see Adam’s teeth sinking.

 Langa looked confused, his eyes searching across Reki’s face for something. His words were careful, hushed, and so so quiet. 

 “Reki we… you said this was okay.”

 “What the hell are you talking about?”

 Langa wrapped his hands around Reki’s wrists, turned his head to press his lips to Reki’s palm only to have them wrenched from his clothing as quickly as they’d been put there.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me. I don’t know how to handle this right now I-” he scanned the room, brushed his hair back from his face, spun, and took a few hard steps away. “Stay here. I just- I need space for a minute.”

 He had his hands on the deck of one of the boards they kept lined up and neat by the door before Langa had fully dropped his hands. He wasn’t sure if the click of the door or the sound of his knees hitting the floor was louder.

 It was hours before Reki was home, the street lights flickering out with the rising of the sun as he shut the door quietly behind himself. He toed his shoes off and found Langa tear sodden but still awake, wrapped into himself in the corner of the couch.

 “Reki-”

 The redhead held up a scraped palm, condensed it into a single finger. “We need coffee. But then we’re gonna talk.”

 Langa nodded, scrubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes, and nodded somehow harder. When Reki turned to make his way into the kitchen he paused and waited, watched over his shoulder as Langa unfolded himself from the couch and climbed to his feet. When they stood together in the doorway Reki reached out scarred and calloused fingers to the place they both knew a bite lay blooming beneath layers of mindfully chosen fabric. 

 “I want you to tell me everything”

 ⛓❄⛓