#i need a greenhouse for little plants to be safe and grow

[bandofchimeras]

last night slept so hard

dreams & such below

lately my dreams have been emotionally lucid like, showing what's going on on a deeper level

last night my kitty who passed away appeared again and turned into a tiny sweetheart of a child asking for a glass of water

and I spent time with a bunch of different people including wrestling with a chaser friend masking my emotions, like hanging out and getting things done while holding back tears or surpressing the desire to be held and be affectionate

I texted my grandpa at Walgreens and he sent a bunch of pictures through the printer. He wasn't mad at me just wondered why I disappeared

and then dreamt of attending a Jewish women's herbalism class that was about developing a sweet poetic intimacy with the spirits of the plants, and deciding they had to include me bc I'm a woman too even though I'm a man

conclusion I'm living as if I'm a cool fuckboy line cook cis dude and all the women and femmes and tender hearted children inside me are crying

and melting down on here is the closest I get to disclosing this to anyone bc who in my life right now can hold space for that?

who can let me be a mess, and gentle, but also insane and intense, and not be a fucking asshole? who has a full emotional range? I feel cordoned off into parts and pieces unable to accept the possibility of being loved as I am experiencing the whole rainbow of emotions

like could I love myself? In isolation. But letting people in, nah. I don't know how to deal with my own sensitivity. And idk this far people who want to be kind and gentle but not extractive or do it for their own sense of moral Superiority or so you'll validate them constantly seem exceedingly rare. I don't have much to brag about in life but I try to be kind for no other reason than kindness is like medicine and it's in short supply. I have worked a lot to develop my ability to be an asshole and fight back when necessary and that's still underway but craving to be soft, sweet and unburdened around someone. even a pet.

my inner well of kindness drying up from neglect, I feel like I'm losing what I treasure most about myself.

I don't mean care, people will be caring and care for you or do nice things but....usualky in my experience that comes with control and resentment or misunderstanding.

what I mean is speaking gently or leaving you space to exist without control or projection or fetishizing. Like genuinely listening or appreciating your existence while having their own life and being in touch with their emotional reality ...where does that happen in this world, you know? that kind of love you'd give a flower or a bee or a small bird that chose to feed out of your hand

have I read too much Mary Oliver? no. Not nearly enough.

[ashdreams2023]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a Severus Snape x older sister reader? We know Sev is like a grouchy and independent person, I kinda want to see him turn into an attention seeking little baby when it comes to his older sister lol. Like imagine Dumbledore and McGonagall's shock when they see Sev whining to a woman who they don't recognize (I was thinking she didn't go to Hogwarts and went to another magical school) They didn't even know Sev has any siblings whatsoever. So basically reader visits Severus in Hogwarts (he's already a professor) She hasn't seen him in a couple of years due to her profession or something. Reader still sees Sev as her baby brother she used to take care of.

Finally gotten to this one! I was actually dying to do this it’s so cute!

Severus snape x big sister reader

Sevy

Everyone knew not to cross their professors at hogwarts, especially the intimidating potions master, severus snape, the most feared professor in the school.

Even the older professors had a great deal of respect for the young professor.

"Honestly I can’t believe he didn’t even give me one chance to correct myself!?" One hufflepuff groaned to his friend, no one was safe from severus on a bad day, even his brightest students.

"Drop it mate, you can make up for it in the next pop test-"

"Hey boys, do you know where Professor snape office is?" The two teenagers stopped in their tracked and looked at the woman speaking to them.

You smiled in a friendly manner at them and repeated your question, one of them pointed at the end of the hall. The dungeons, that figures.

"Thank you boys" The two stared at you as you walked away.

"Who is she and why is she looking for snape?"

"Who knows, but I pity her regardless…"

Meanwhile after some walking you ended up finding the office, you looked at the time table hung on the wall, his office hours were still open.

You grinned to yourself and walked.

Albus and minerva waited and waited, it was unlike severus to miss their daily meeting after lunch but here they were alone with each other’s company for the past thirty minutes.

"You don’t think something came up, don’t you albus?"

"I’m not quite sure dear Minerva but we ought to go check on him"

The two older professors took a long and silent walk down to the dungeons, where they knew he spent most of his time and knocked on his door but no answer.

"Could he have went to do some errands?"

"In the middle of a school day? That’s very unlike him…"

"The greenhouse perhaps?" The wise witch suggested. The headmaster hummed before leading the way up to the greenhouse.

They had expected a lot but what they witnessed wasn’t what they had anticipated for.

"I swear to god sevy you need to learn how to grow your own stuff, you’re a potion master" you sighed plucking one of the plants in the very back of the greenhouse with severus kneeling down near an empty plant pot.

"You know i can’t do it right! See they keep dying on me" Severus whined gesturing to the broken pots in the corner of the place.

The headmaster and vise duty stared in disbelief, severus snape was pouting, he was whining and acting unlike his stock self.

"I’ve taught you a million times, the soil have to be the right kind, you can’t expect your big sissy to be here to help you all the time"

"I know I know, I’m not a baby anymore" he got up and dusted himself off then cringed childishly when you started wiping the dirt stuck on his face "Stop!"

"No! Hold still, just because you got taller doesn’t mean you can go around looking like we still live in rags"

Albus coughed in his fist catching the attention of both adults.

"Oh hi! Sorry to intrude, I was just helping sevy here learn how to plant a practical plant for his potion making"

"And you are?" Asked the older witch.

Severus cleared his throat spoke "This is my older sister headmaster, Minerva" the two professors looked dumbfounded by the news, severus never mentioned having a sibling and a witch at that!

"But wait…why haven’t you attended hogwarts with severus?" Albus was curious to say the least.

"Well, to make short I asked mother to go to another school because my passion for herbology couldn’t be fulfilled in hogwarts you see, so I went to Uagadou"

Severus looked down at you with settle pride, you have achieved so much throughout the years and he looked up to you, you’ve become a great scientist and made some big discoveries across the globe, many may not know your face but your stage name was to be hold.

"Anyways I came to visit sevy, it’s been so long since I saw this big baby" you laughed, he huffed pretending to be offended and pushed your arm to knock you off balance.

"Hey! Don’t test me boy! I used to change your diapers!" You pointed a finger at him.

He crossed his arms and pulled out his tongue at you.

Albus felt amused seeing the two siblings bicker but minerva chuckled, severus for once didn’t seem so uptight and proper, but rather…dare she say relaxed?

"I think you should join us to tea, I’ll love to hear your side of things, my dear son severus doesn’t speak much of his life back home"

You smirked "Oh do I have stories for you, and I think you’ll especially would enjoy the river one"

Severus’s cheeks flushed red before he ground covering his face in embarrassment "I beg you, stop making life harder!"

You didn’t care what he say and that afternoon was spent with everyone having tea and listening to your embarrassing stories about the eventful childhood in spinner’s end.

"Do you just enjoy humiliating me?"

"Oh sevy, relax you I do it because I care"

"I doubt it"

"You’re welcome"

[hcdragonwrites]

Missing Flowers ( @semisolidmind Fanfic)

I wrote this because I was inspired by another bit of work. This one is sweet ans short and Mac centric. Inspired by this ask! Twice as Bad Au make brain go brrrr

Tw for some violence mentions and some allusions to intimate behaviour (it is not detailed at all - in fact you may miss it entirely - but it is alluded to thats why I mention this)

As the sweet scents of spring created on the wind, carrying blossoms and the soft buzzing bodies of bumblebees, Peaches felt a deep pang of loss. Outside in the spring air, walking along the edge of the mountains with the small attendants she was given, she looked out beyond the sparkling sea. Beyond the mountains and the sky and all that lay between. She imagined she was looking homeward. To her village.

She missed her village, missed her people who she knew as family and as friends. She missed the smell of the earth, the taste of the rain on her tongue and how the sun angled itself through her shuttered windows to cast the dust motes in startling detail as they passed through the beams. It had been over a decade now since her marriage of ‘demonic fashion’ to the rulers of Flower Fruit Mountain. The ache never would go away- it would linger like a hole in her smile, a tooth lost and never replaced.

However it wasn’t her village today that was making her homesick.

Peaches had a little patch of earth, maybe an acre large that she had dedicated to the propagation of flowers and fruits, vegetables and all manner of growing things. It had taken years of careful selection, of collecting seeds from far and wide, of dedicated research and late nights in the snow and the ice and the building of her greenhouse to gather the collection she had had.

Peaches had turned the soil, mixing it with her grass clippings, ash from the fire place, and the compost to enrich it. It had been years of careful and quiet work to build her collection of plants. The glass bits for her greenhouse had costed her years and years of hard work. She had been unable to have it as large as she wanted but it was enough. Within the wooden little wall sat her favorite flowers, the precious few she had bargained and hunted for, the seeds and clippings, were all here safe within the wooden walls.

All her work over the past few years gone in a flash of fire and a slash of violence. What had happened to her little home? Was the house standing? Rotting in its neglect of the years. Did someone take over her home if it was still standing?

The stairs would need replacing. The second one had been creaking before her kidnapping. The wood had been softening and she had her eyes on a tree just beyond her garden. She had planned to cut it free and carve a new replacement. What of her animals? She had had a small herd of goats, little bleating creatures of brown and white.

The goats had been her source of fresh milk, meat and weed control. Each had been given a name. Each had been loved.

Had they been able to get away?

Had they been burned in the fire?

Peaches knew that the flowers and fruits she had were gone. Those couldn’t have escaped the fire - or the human retribution that would follow from any survivors.

Would Wukong have left survivors ? The Sage had come home many a times from such violence. He had woken her with cold hands grasping and seeking her out. He buried them in her hair or twined them in her fingers. Wukong would pull her to him and away from her own makeshift nest within their bed. In those early days he had not learned that the smell of fire and blood would upset her.

Those nights his blood had been on fire from conquest and he wanted only to enjoy the comfort of one of his dearest prizes. Her. Wukong would touch and whisper love into her ears as he fell asleep, a peace only she could bring in the aftermath of those bloodbaths. Sometimes she would wake in the morning to find blood smeared along her cheeks and in her hair.

It had been one of the times Macaque had found her hyperventilating after such a morning covered in blood that wasn’t hers, confused to where it could be from, and the memories of the night when the drunk had invaded her home.

And her world had changed. She had been pulled to his arms, her own chest pressing to his. Instructed to follow his breathing, to listen to the air whoosh from his body. To hold. Then to fill again like the bellows of a blacksmiths forge. And then to deflate.

When her breathing did not sound like the frantic flapping of a broken birds wing, thats when Macaque had asked her what happened. What had triggered her memories. Peaches asked how he knew- and her second husband rubbed a thumb beneath her eyes and caught a tear.

“You were screaming. Telling me to stop burning the village.” The words sounded sad. Not remorseful. Never remorseful for the actions that led here here. That brought her to residency in the mountain. The sadness was instead about the scars left behind, the invisible wounds that their actions had created.

After that, Wukong never came to bed smelling of blood or fresh from a conquest.

Wukong would never leave survivors of the village. Not after what he thought was a slight to her, to his perception of what was his. An extension of his own self importance. No. That seemed wrong even as Peaches thought it. Maybe she was an extension of his grandeur. But she wasn’t just a prize to be turned and looked at. Somehow, in some way, he had fallen in love with her.

Love for Wukong- for Macaque- was not like human love. Just as two peach trees could produce different fruits. Peaches knew that love between people was more of a communication, a build up to a relationship. At least in the best situations. Demons however … it was more draconic in a sense. To claim and catch, to conquer before another could take the prize between its claws and keep for themselves. Like dogs fighting over scraps, love was something to catch and hoard and keep.

Maybe it wasn’t so different from humans. Stories and mythologies had been woven of love like this. Men had gone to war and killed thousands of others in the name of one paramour, one love.

Wukong had done that. He had taken a conceived obstacle and removed it. He had snatched her as a wolf would steal a lamb in the cold of winter, taking her back to the mountain. Devouring her freedom to secure his happiness. When his brother came to see, to wonder at why their paramour was here. It hadn’t taken much convincing. It was as natural as breathing to take in their world.

Peaches attendants, those young ladies, waited patiently. Peaches stared out across the world and wished she had the eyes of eagles to stare and devour the miles so she could see for herself.

Was her garden truly gone? Had anything wild had been left behind ?

Had the apple trees gone wild? Were green granny smiths now growing wild among the pink ladys and dorsett goldens? Were the nectarines falling from the trees to rot beautifully in a horrid flash of sweet sick decay? Did the bees still pollinate whatever roses and hydrangeas survived ?

Had the fire consumed everything?

She missed her garden. Her plants. She missed her home.

She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice how her Ladies in waiting called out- she didn’t notice the shadow length beneath her feet. Until suddenly the ground was not ground at all but a gaping black hole- and she fell screaming.

Right into a warm embrace and soft fur that smelled like orange blossoms and plum wine. Laughter bubbled out of Macaque bare chest. “I would think the Queen would be more aware of her surroundings by now.”

Peaches pulled away enough to hook her husband with a scowl. It was half hearted as the demonic monkey dipped downward and pressed his lips to the side of her face in soft peppered kisses. Peaches laughed at the affection, able to ease into the comfort that the six eared macaque had grown between them. The chestnut trees above them rattled like ladies whispering as casting the sunlight like dice over a game.

“Some brutes don’t walk - some slink in shadows.” Peaches teased back. She lifted a hand up and along Macaques face. Her fingers touched his ears- all six on display today instead of being glamoured and hidden. The large clawed hand tightened beneath her as she brushed her hands over them. Macaque leaned into her touch, pressing his face, and her hand, into hers.

“Slink?” The monkey teased. They were beneath a cluster of chestnut and beech trees. A whole new position upon the mountain - possibly leagues across the great kingdom.

“Slink?” Macaque nipped her ear and she yelped in surprise- cheeky like. “I do not slink.”

And then the stomach flip as the magic pulled them in. The very shadows that seemed to seep and flow through macaques black fur, the ebbing of ocean currents between the jetties of his being. The cold kissed her nose, the sun flashed. Peaches blinked as the orientation of the sky reasserted itself. They were closer to Water Curtain cave now. The mosses and lichens that grew in the soft moisture were tell tale signs.

“I merely use what I have to my advantage.”The Six Eared Macaque pulled his wife into himself as he began to walk. In her decade here she had begun to see the mountain like a second skin. Each turn of stone was becoming like a new crease in her skin. Here she understood that, even though the forest was near the palace, it was no where she had treaded recently.

Her husband was taking her somewhere. But where ?

“You left my ladies in distress.” Peaches asked. The steps against the forest floor were soothing. Would she allow herself to be soothed ? It was easier for Peaches to forget the scars that marred her when it was Macaque. With Wukong …

It would always be a sore spot. Always be cut that had healed too thin and the scar left behind would ache in the cold.

“I left them with a note that said I was taking my wife for a moment.”

How different the world would be if they had just asked her to come with them. Had the two brothers even floated the idea between each other? Thought to show her the beautiful mountain and let her fall into it and in love with it ? Peaches knew she would have come. The beauty here was unmatched - the fruits and flowers and plants and growing things would have stolen her away faster then a demons courting could ever achieve. If her boys had only asked her… only shown her….

“How are you Peaches ?” Macaques voice was soft.

“I am… far away.” She decided to be honest.

“The memories again?” Soft, gentle. Her sweet boy was still there. Still within this … sorrow. Peaches had found the little monkey bleeding among her hydrangeas and honeysuckle. The white and purple petals were turned crimson and crushed beneath the tiny body. Of course he had been a wild thing, a furious flash of teeth and claws. Any animal would be. So when the weak little monkey bit into her hand she hadn’t flinched. Instead she had waited, taking a blanket to scoop the poor creature up and into her arms- and to contain those claws. The bite was foolish- what she did was foolish- but… she was a foolish women.

The bite was deep, the pain a lance in her mind. Those teeth were large enough, sabers in gums - knives of nature that cut into the soft pad of her flesh. He didn’t let go, he didn’t release her hand until the blood on his flank was cleaned. Until the gash in his side had been sewed shut. He was too weak to worry her flesh into ruin. To take his pain and tear her apart. He could have. Though small, though at a disadvantage, the little was gifted with weapons where Peaches had been gifted none. She was soft handed, soft as a magnolia flower. No claws no teeth no strength.

Yet he did not tear her apart. The tiny monkey was left alone after he was patched up. A bowl of water, a small basket of peeled mandarins. And the window- left open to let in the wet jungle air. Her kindness had cost her her hand- the day after it was purple and swollen. It was hard to work in the soil- to work in the garden and her little farm. She had carrots to pull, goats to milk, and trees to prune. By the end of the day she could barely close the hand and it had grown yellow on top of the purple. Like a plum trampled enough to ruin the flesh but not enough to break it open.

The next morning however, when she unwrapped to tend the wound and let it breath… she found the wrappings clean. The swelling was gone. The punctures were still there. But…. They had healed over.

She had been a fool. Peaches had thought it was from her tending that the wound had healed up. She had been a fool. Who would have known that her foolish heart would lead to this future?

“Its not just the memories- its a memory.” They had stopped walking now.

“Which one?” The leaves rustled above them. The air smelled of water and earth and stone. It was … calming. So the memory coming forward now wasn’t cast in sorrow. But in calm.

“Of you.” She reached up and pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose. “Of the garden. When we first met.”

Macaque grimaced.

“Not my best introduction...” He looked down at her hand. The scar was still there, silver moons along her skin.

“Are you embarrassed?”Peaches teased. Macaque paused. He set her down onto her feet, kneeling. His hands caught her wrist- the one he had scared all those years ago- and brought it to his face.

“Truly I am. I mauled your hand.”He kissed it, rubbed a claw over the scars, worried at it with his lips and his tender forehead brushes.

“You were in pain. And you healed it.” Peaches pulled him up. Off his knees. In these moments, these tender touches, was the sweetness that had grown between them. There was the flash of that little monkey she had saved. Who had slowly begun to bring her gifts and treasures. His first gift had never been showed. Macaque had never been talked about- as it had required secrecy.

“Lao Tzi had chased me out.” The simian smiled into her face, teeth flashing like moonlight. “Heaven was in an uproar over my thievery. But … they thought I was Wukong.”

“Mac!” She beat on his shoulder in play. Roaring laughter was rewarded to her as the trickier of the two loomed over and draped his arms over her front, pressing her back to his chest.

“I couldn’t let them know it was me!” His teeth were in her hair, soft croons and gentle nips being pressed to her skin. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”

Her cheeky six eared husband then began to press her and tease her in a very flirtatious fashion that turned Peaches skin flushed and burning. It was long moments and minutes after the teasing and the stolen presses of kisses and promises for later, that Peaches decided to open her heart a bit more to him.

“I miss it all. I miss the house and the village and …. I miss the garden the most. All my plants. My animals…” Peaches rested her face in his arm, drinking in the plum wine and orange blossom smell that was so thickly wrapped in his fur.

“All the growing things… do you think they are still there ?” It was easy to think of it here, when Macaque had been kind and soft to her. When he understood what emotional wounds were still healing, still painfully sore. The rush of his heart was against her ear was nice.

“Have they gone wild and returned to the woods ? What of the roses- they are the hardest here to tend. And the magnolia trees….” A bird flitted and flew its way between the emerald leaves. A dolphin flying through a sea of emerald green.

Macaque spun her suddenly, his hand gripping hers, his tail flicking. She was pulled along, hands grasping his as they walked faster.

“Lets walk. We will go and see the orchards and you will tell me all the flowers you had and loved and never got to tend.”

“I would tell you anyway.” Peaches laughed softly. “I loved my flowers.”

The look of serious thought didn’t alleviate in the wake of her laughter.

“You will tell me in detail and what seasons they grow- and what habitats they grow in. Who the traders were that gave you the seeds and the clippings.” They rounded the corner of a stone outcropping, the path before them becoming more well trodden. The path to the orchards.

“And I want you to find a piece of the mountain- get that foolish orange orangutang of my brother to help you clear it and drain it and turn its soil rich.”

The realization was dawning on Peaches then.

“Ma-Macaque…” Was he suggesting what her heart was starting to hope?

“You get the land ready.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I will collect the seeds in my journeys. I will find the best lines and horticulturists and gather you a collection that will rival the one we foolishly took from you.”

His eyes held hers. It had the same effect that a sunrise had on a snow trapped forest. The light in them was refracted and doubled as Peaches felt her heart fill. She didn’t realize that tears were dripping until Macaque was reaching up to coo and rub them free, calling to her in comforting familial tones a monkey would use to soothe an create comfort.

“And I will be able to play within your garden and see you smile like you just did. I would bring down the lunar gardens to see you smile again… as you did when i first saw you in that garden. ”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

A reader with wings, but instead of big, fluffy angel wings or leathery, sharp bat wings, they got beautiful, delicate fae wings.

While they aren't anywhere near as fast as Peter, they can still zip around on the battle field, making them hard to hit and harder to catch.

The wings themselves are translucent but full of colors. When the sun hits them just right, a kaleidoscope of light shines out. But they aren't just for show, no no no no! They are razor sharp despite being so thin. It's like getting a paper cut from the world's longest sheet of paper.

The fairy comparison doesn't end there, because they can shrink down to fae size! They can be travel sized for your convenience! No room in the quinjet? They can chill in someone's pocket. Not enough seats in Scott's car for a snack run? They'll sit in the cup holders, just don't squish them with your soda. Playing hide and seek? You'll never win cause Reader shrunk down and is hiding in the cookie jar. Room in the mansion gets destroyed, and they got no where to sleep? Set up a Barbie Dreamhouse in someone else's room and they r good to go.

They got a super green thumb and can be found in the greenhouse with Storm growing the weirdest plant hybrid ever. Their powers let them get real down close to the dirt and stems to see if anything is wrong. Though now they are waging a mini-war on the snails and squirrels that keep ruining their garden.

If you wanted to take it a step further, you could make them able to control plants, give them twisty vine hair, and give them pheromones. Instead of animal pheromones, they're plant pheromones, so they work a little differently, but still follow the same concept. Reader smells all floral instead of the musk the ferals have, but they could still track their bby down if they fly away.

Aaaawwww, fae mutant Reader!!! Super creative and cool! They're like the personal garden fairy, but a cut from their wings stings like a wasp!

They're great with hiding and doing missions where they need to spy or gather intel. They shrink down to an easier size, slip in, and simply stay still and listen in as long as it is safe to do so. They need to get away quick? Reader can fly them to safety, just one at a time, though! Someone tried to launch a weapon or hit at Reader's teammates during a battle or riot? Reader is using their wings to deflect anything, or cutting the person who tried to throw a punch. The garden needs an extra set of hands to keep it pest-free? Never fear, Reader will look for any mold, rot, or pests, and get rid of the problem!

They smell sweet, like roses or honeysuckle or lavender, and are beautiful, almost ethereal. Whenever the teens go out, they're making sure no one tries to get near Reader or mess with them, and Reader returns the favor. If someone makes sweet potatoes or a sweet potatoe casserole or sweet potato fries, Reader is right there, ready to taste test them! If anyone needs help lifting boxes or books, or washing dishes, or cleaning up, Reader is there to help!

(They're such a helpful bean, and the teens like hanging out with them, finding them thoughtful and a delight. The adults appreciate their helpful attitude, and do make sure to tell them they're being a big help. It's hard to feel upset with fae mutant Reader, as they're overall a helpful, thoughtful person who is quick to help and doesn't mind spending time with others)

(Cute idea, @sugar-soda! Fae mutant Reader is a delight! Which other mutations did you want to explore? Or any possible parent secret parent plot twists? I hope you're doing well! Thank you for sharing your ask!)

[kmackatie]

hey friend, 'garden' for the march writing prompts! ♥

hey friend! thansk for the prompt 💜this is also sleepverse, a few years down the line

(ask me a march writing prompt)

"How has he been?" asks Beau, kicking back until she's balancing dangerously on the back two legs of her chair. She does this often, with a disregard for how quickly it could backfire on her, but then her reactions are quicker than Caleb's. Still. If he uses his foot to make it rock slightly under her to see the brief flick of fear across her face, that is between him and himself. "Obsessive," Caleb replies, sliding his foot back carefully as the chair rocks back onto four legs. "Hey!" "What? He is!" "No, for the fucking--you asshole." Caleb flinches back instinctively--the dining table between them isn't any protection from Beauregard's flying elbows--before he grins. "He has spreadsheets for the optimal watering schedule and exactly when they need to be rotated to maximise the sun!" "Coming from Mr 'I tracked my notebook usage to set up an auto-delivery every six weeks' Widogast. Pot, kettle, black, Caleb." "And does the wildflower know when the rain is coming? No! Yet it still grows!" "Let the man have his passions!" Caleb snorts. Essek has many passions, plants being the most recent. Though in all honesty, this one he quite likes. He hasn't mentioned it yet, but having greenery around is nice. Calming. And it makes him smile to see Essek pottering around with his little watering can and moisture monitor and talking to the plants. He really did need something that got him away from work. But half the fun of arguing with Beauregard is the argument itself, regardless of the content. "Beauregard, I no longer have a laundry. It's become a greenhouse!" "You really should look at moving. Apartments really are not set up for gardens, and it's good for him. Good for you too." Caleb swallows past the lump in his throat. They have spoken about it, about how it might be time to start looking for somewhere a little bigger, with a little more space, they just can't quite agree on where yet. It's also something he never thought he would be in a place to achieve--a relationship, or a house, or anything stable. A blessing, and he's terrified of moving too quickly least the house of cards comes crashing down around him. "Eventually. " "I'll send you a listing that Dairon was talking about recently. Has a vegetable garden and a small greenhouse. I think you might convince him once you see it." "I--it's not necessarily him that needs convincing. It feels... the apartment is safe. But a house?" "You could have a library. A whole nerd room of books. Isn't that worth doing something a little scary?" He thinks about it. Takes a breath. "Ja. Ja, it can be. No promises, but send it to me later." "We'll make a proper adult out of you yet."

[bigsexiest]

My little grow-light

I thought this would be a painful concept. I love it when Earth elemental things can save lives. I just think it's so mother nature of them. But poor Mountain is overwhelmed with his 'responsibility', really it's just a self-insert of my own difficulty with saying no. I also love animals wayyyy too much and wish they could all live forever. Also, I just love Swiss so much he's so hero. I finished this so late at night, please ignore anything wrong with the ending I just needed this to be done.

word count: 2164

summary: Mountain is overwhelmed and saddened because of a dying bird. Swiss finds him and helps him through what appears to be a lost life.

Mountain likes fixing ‘broken’ things. He discovered this hobby after realizing how much he loved bringing plants and flowers back from the brink of death. Cumulus once brought a houseplant she had forgotten to water for a few weeks and he revived it. It looked better than it ever had by the time she got it back. 

Now that he’s established himself as the head gardener, the abbey has never looked prettier. He’s so good at his job that he’s become quite bored. Everything is so hardy and lush, that he barely does anything anymore. He’s moved on to animals and random objects to keep himself busy.

Phantom once brought Mountain a limping vole he had found while wandering around. Mountain felt bad for the small creature and nursed it back to life. He kept it in a wide container in the greenhouse, giving it plenty of dry straw and clean water. It had only taken a couple of days of rest for the rodent to make a full recovery. When it was time to release, Mountain’s heart filled with warmth watching the little creature scurry back into the wilderness.

After the vole, various other ghouls and siblings of sin would come to Mountain with sick plants or creatures, knowing the earth ghoul liked helping out. Sometimes Aether would joke around about how excellent he could be in the infirmary, but Mountain always vehemently refused. It was too much responsibility. Even taking care of the little animals was too much sometimes.

Mountain would grow anxious if the creature didn’t start to show signs of recovery early on. He kept his anxiety hidden from his packmates, worried they would stop bringing him the hurt animals. He was worried if he wasn’t allowed to take care of the animals then who would? So he would silently worry until the creature would inevitably recover. Fortunately enough for him, he hasn’t had a death yet.

He worries sometimes that people will start bringing him bigger more difficult animals. Saying ‘no’ is impossible for Mountain, especially for a life in danger. Being too empathetic has always been a problem for him. It made him much more of a target in the pit, but he never changed. Sometimes he wishes things were different, that he wasn’t so sensitive, and that he had the piece of mind to refuse all of these things he had to fix. The plants were time-consuming the various knick-knacks got annoying, and the animals were frightening. He just wanted it all to stop.

Especially now, locked in a section of the greenhouse, crying because of a stupid little bird.

He had locked himself in because he didn’t want anyone else to see him break down over this poor innocent creature. It had flown into an abbey window and dropped to the ground. Aurora had picked it up and ran inside to Mountain, who had been napping on a sofa. Just looking at the bird for the first time was enough to make Mountain want to scream.

It was obvious the bird was barely alive. Its little chest was moving up and down quickly, but the rest of its body was limp and its eyes were closed. Mountain quickly grabbed the bird and rushed down to the only private place he felt safe with the bird in.

When he found a comfortable place to kneel with the bird, he realized how unqualified he was. He had no clue what to do. The bird’s chest wasn’t rising nearly as frequently as before, and Mountain didn’t know why. He was sure it would die soon if he didn’t fix it.

But looking up at the room around him, he was helpless. There was nothing to do—no little bird life support. Mountain was all there was, and he was useless. So he sat with the bird, hoping it would become magically better.

But it didn’t.

It became much worse. Mountain was about ready to put the bird on the floor and give up when a loud knocking sounded from the locked door. He immediately decided to stay silent. Mountain didn’t want anyone to see him crushed like this.

“Mount, are you in there?” A shadow could be seen through the blurred glass window peeking in. It sounded like Swiss.

The room was dark enough in the waning afternoon light. Mountain remained quiet, wishing the multi-ghoul would leave him alone to mourn. The bird was barely breathing, and growing colder by the second.

“Mountain, I know you’re in there,” The shadow stayed by the door. “Rora saw you run here.” Worry clouded his voice, “This is the only locked door.”

Mountain knew he had been discovered, there was no use hiding anymore. He carefully stood without jostling the bird too much, shifting the bird from the cup of both hands to quickly unlock the door for Swiss.

As Swiss stepped into the room, Mountain angled his body away hiding both the bird and his tears. Knowing that life was literally slipping through his fingers was tearing him apart. He decided that when he would bury the bird, he would dig a hole big enough for both of them. He’d find a spot quiet and secluded enough to never worry about fixing anything ever again. Mountain would keep the little bird company through death. He wouldn’t tell anybody about his plan. His packmates might worry for a bit, but then they’d find someone new to take over as caretaker. He’d be memorialized as a pack deserter and everyone would live on happily.

He was falling apart. For some reason, this bird had weaseled its way into Mountain’s heart, and the big ghoul couldn’t imagine a world without its beautiful soul. He couldn’t see around the loss he would have to bear once it’s life had finally drifted away.

Mountain fell to his knees again and started sobbing over the body of the bird laying in his hands. Swiss rushed over and grabbed Mountain’s shoulders, frantically trying to get a look at the bird.

“Mountain, it’ll be okay, birds die all the time by the windows.” His eyes were wide and his voice was shaking trying to get through to the Earth ghoul. His words only made Mountain cry harder. 

“I’m so sorry, Mountain, it isn’t your fault.” Mountain had started to heave, breathing deep and letting out loud keening cries. The plants around the two ghouls had started to shiver and shake. Their leaves display the same lament as the Earth ghoul. Swiss, standing and taking a few steps back,  was shocked as he looked at the plants surrounding them.

The plants, through their shaking, started to grow upward and outward. Mountain’s cries softened as he focused on draining his power. It was all he could do to release the tension of his grief. A cathartic goodbye to the little bird in his hands.

He grew silent as he focused on the ground beneath him. The plants growing on the tables around the two ghouls didn’t stop, and little blades of grass and wildflowers had started to sprout through the gravel floors of the greenhouse. Mountain’s horns grew longer and wilder, with little sprigs of lichen and vines trailing onto them through his hair.

Directly below his still cupped hands, the wilderness had grown even taller. The flowers and grass brushed his knuckles. Sweat dripped from his furrowed brow, and his eyes stayed clenched shut as he encouraged the life around them to blossom.

Swiss was awestruck. He had never seen any ghoul display such a burst of power. Mountain was the last ghoul he would expect. Dew would sometimes breathe smoke when he was especially pissed, and the way Aether could calm someone down with just the touch of a hand was nifty, but this was on another level. Even the air felt crisper, as though the plants worked double time with all the energy Mountain had provided. Looking at the straining Earth ghoul was difficult. The power radiating away from him made Swiss’s eyes water. For such a quiet friendly soul, Mountain was hiding a big secret. Sister would kill for the skill Mountain was displaying.

Of course, it made a lot of sense to Swiss why Mountain wouldn’t let people know about it. Surely everyone would abuse it as much as they could. As far as Swiss knew, they already had been. Mountain’s neverending charity had provided a lot of help to the Ministry. Nursing all the plants back to health couldn’t have been easy, nor was being the on-call veterinarian for all of Papa’s rats. If only Swiss had known the toll it had been taking on Mountain, he would have put an end to it all ages ago. He could be very persuasive when he needed to be.

Just thinking about it made him want to shred people’s throats out. He wanted to bare his teeth and pounce from sibling to sibling. But that would all have to wait for after Mountain’s comedown. A large outburst of energy like this is most definitely resulting in a nap or two. Swiss intended to be there every step of the way. He would carry the large ghoul back to the den if he had to. 

Despite the long grass and flowers growing well past Mountain’s hunched figure, he refused to stop. Swiss was beginning to worry about Mountain possibly overdoing it and sending himself to the infirmary. Swiss had never heard of such a thing happening, but he didn’t want to rule it out.

Luckily, through the tall grass hiding the Earth ghoul, Swiss could hear Mountain heave out a heavy sigh. He straightened his back but made no move to stand. Looking over to Swiss with sad red-ringed eyes, he stayed silent.

Swiss, not wanting to upset the ghoul anymore, walked over and kneeled beside Mountain in the grass. He put an arm around the big ghoul and pulled him into a comforting hug. Swiss tried to use as much quintessence as he knew how to. 

Mountain looked down at his hands and gently laid the body of the bird onto the soft green grass. He was too tired to dig any holes yet. He focused instead on Swiss’s warm embrace, distracting himself by falling into the mild hypnosis.

Swiss was glad Mountain had finally tired himself out, but he couldn’t help but look at the bird on the ground. It was still visibly breathing, and, despite everything he knew had happened, it looked as if the bird’s chest was rising more frequently.

Deciding it was just an illusion, he tried to focus on Mountain instead. But he just couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The longer Swiss stared, the more obvious it became that the bird was indeed breathing faster. Mountain’s head had lolled against Swiss’s shoulder, his brain lost to the quintessence. Swiss once again couldn’t believe his eyes. The bird’s feet had started twitching and its eyes slowly blinked open. He felt sick, there was no way this bird had made such a recovery.

But of course, Mountain did that. He grew every plant in the room, including seeds hidden beneath the dirt. The life of a small bird might be more complicated than the life of a basil plant, but Mountain was powerful enough to support a whole room of life. Swiss couldn’t believe Mountain had this power. He potentially held more power than the quintessence ghouls. He could save lives. How big could Mountain work? Could he save humans? Ghouls?

Swiss started to shake Mountain awake from the hypnosis to show him the living bird. He realized how similar his thought process was to those who had already used Mountain for gain. Phantom’s stupid forest creatures, and Dew’s stupid video games. Mountain wasn’t an object, he deserved to be treated like any other ghoul, despite his power.

Mountain let out a quiet annoyed whine. Swiss felt bad for the mourning ghoul but encouraged him to look at the bird nonetheless. It had started to shake its wings and hop slowly across the ground. 

“Please take me to the den, I’m so tired.” Slow tears trailed down his face.

“Just look at the bird, Mountain, it’s alive, you saved it.” At this, Mountain opened his eyes toward where the bird stood a couple of inches from the two ghouls. He didn’t have much of a reaction, he just looked on silently as the bird grew stronger. 

He looked up at Swiss and quietly asked, “Can we take it outside and then go to the den?” His voice was groggy with exhaustion. Even raising his head looked slow and difficult. Swiss hated that he was burdened with all this responsibility on his own. If only the other ghouls had known how much he had been struggling.

“Of course. Anything for you, my little grow-light.” Swiss chuckled at his joke, helped Mountain stand, and grabbed the little bird on the way outside to the soft golden sunset.

[yandere-paramour]

Listen, I’d give up my current life in an instant just to swap to my dream “job”. Because let me tell you, Atlanta’s darling was technically my first dream job until reality brought a baseball bat. I would give anything to just be a domestic lover, providing breakfast in bed and seeing them off with kisses and a lunch prepared for them, planning out dinner as I plant little love notes around for them to find, take care of the greenhouse or garden that was installed, providing kisses when she returns and a massage to help wash away the stress of the day, cooking dinner for her and maybe ending the day with dancing or a movie and cuddles. Like I don’t even need the sex, just providing that alone is fine by me. And like I said, it was my dream “job” before reality came along.

-Domestic Life Anon

Oh this is PERFECT. Atalanta is ecstatic. A perfect, well-behaved Darling for her to spoil? This is everything she has ever wanted. She would do anything for the opportunity to provide for and care for you.

What would you like, sweetness? She'll take you anywhere you want to go. She has a lot of vacation days saved up, she can have first class seats to any country in the world if you'd only ask. The best hotel, any sights you want to see. Hell, she'll buy you a castle and make you a real princess if you want it.

Or maybe you would prefer to stay at home working on your hobbies. She'll buy you any supplies you need, and she will prize anything you create. Your art will be proudly displayed all around her office, any flowers you grow will be on her desk. If you want, she'll rent a concert hall so you can play your instruments only for her.

And late at night, she'll lay you in the bed, making sure you're safe and secure as she hand feeds you petit fours as she whispers to you how you have made her life worth living again.

[twst-drabbles]

Riddle 16

Summary: Now the time comes for Riddle to hibernate. For whatever reason, the Roseling made it a habit to sleep last.

(Oh so gentle, oh so sweet. It's hilarious, how when I crave to write something horrible, I write fluff instead.)

Snow had been falling for a while now. It blankets your house in a smooth white sheet, only a few centimeters thick. Nothing really worth shoveling up or playing in. It’s more suiting to just recline back in a comfy chair and relax by the fire. With the birds leaving their nests empty, the trees long having retreated their vitality, there’s this odd feeling that somehow you were stuck in time.

Of course, that’s not the case, not with Riddle struggling to not fall asleep in your hands. You leaned down and exhaled a hot breath over his body. Sleepily, he smacked you on the chin through the fog.

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, “forgot to brush my teeth this morning.”

Your breath probably smells horrible and you’d hope the cold would somehow dull it. Though, that’s not how scents work, huh?

As you walked through the garden, all bundled up in a nice coat and a blanket just because you could, Riddle was resisting the urge to sleep. He sits in your palm, grabbing your fingers to keep his balance, but you can see his head bobbing up and down.

“Really Riddle,” you said as you opened the door to the temporary greenhouse, “you don’t have to force yourself. You guys need to rest and it’s not like I’ll be lonely. I have plenty of company.”

Riddle’s rose, a rather large plant that continues to grow, now at shoulder height to you, was open and ready to accept its other very sleepy half. Below the large flowing petals were four other roses, all of them tightly closed with the other plant nymphs that couldn’t keep awake.

This place was certainly warmer compared to the sharp winds outside, but not enough to have them awaken early. You just needed some decent shelter in case a storm of any kind comes in.

You shrugged, “I suppose it’s my fault for entertaining you.” There was a mirth to your tone. “To sleep with you, Riddle.”

You stretched your hand to the center of the open rose, but no matter how gentle the motion was, it still causes Riddle to stumble forward and bump his head against your fingers. He shoved himself back, as though shocked away as he shook his head. He took a moment to look around, adjust the petals of his body before standing in all his glory.

“Well?” You said, subtly pushing his back with your thumb, “Get some shut eye. I’ll be here when you all wake up.”

The Roseling turned to you, face scrunched up in the way he does when being told what he has already set out to do. But there was no fire to it. Poor little guy was so sleepy, he looked like he could fall right over.

Riddle took a step down with a huff, but stopped. His head inclined down, then he turned to you, giving you a flash of puppy eyes before he caught himself and looked forward.

You snorted but didn’t say a thing. Riddle took another step, then another, then finally hopped off your fingers like a diving board, landing safely and softly in the rose he was born from. The petals were so thick and fluffed up it nearly swallowed him. Only his head was visible.

“Have a good night, Riddle.”

Until spring comes, Roseling.

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

White Daffodil

My entry for this year's @myslashyvalentine is a gift for @i-did-not-mean-to. I'm not sorry for the angst. Beta'd by @melestasflight <3

Post-apocalypse AU, Finrod/Caranthir, 3993 words, T

On Ao3

The sky was slate-gray overhead as Caranthir and Dog walked among the dying trees. A good sign - no deadly red storm on the horizon. The traps had been empty. Nowadays, Caranthir would be lucky to catch something once every few months. Since the Collapse, plants and animals had been slowly dying out in these parts. But there were still plenty of mushrooms.

Dog was looking for mushrooms when he found the wounded stranger buried under dry leaves and branches. Despite the severity of his injuries, he still desperately tried to bat off Dog’s curious snout. Caranthir called her back. The stranger fell unconscious.

Caranthir briefly debated the wisdom of taking the stranger home. He didn’t want to have a dying man in his house. Even if he survived, there was no telling what he would do or what kind of a person he was. Caranthir had seen many atrocities committed by people who looked like angels. If anyone could look like an angel covered with so much blood.

He waited a while and tended to the stranger’s wounds however he could. The stranger kept breathing stubbornly. Caranthir sighed, put him in the cart along with mushrooms, and rolled him home.

The stranger woke in phases. First, he muttered something, called for someone, sang a note, but when Caranthir spoke, he turned away. 

The next time he woke up, he stared at Caranthir with his sea-green eyes.

“Is he safe?” he asked.

“Who?”

The stranger didn't answer.

It went on for long days, and all the while, Caranthir looked after him, treating his wounds, washing him, and giving him water and liquids to drink. Slowly, his fever went down, and his gaze became more focused.

Caranthir was eating when the stranger opened his eyes again. He sniffed the air and sat up a little.

“What’s in the bowl?” he asked.

“Stew,” Caranthir said around a mouthful.

“What’s in it?”

“Whatever goes into a stew,” Caranthir said, annoyed by the suspicious tone.

If the stranger was so chatty when he still hadn’t recovered, Caranthir was afraid to imagine him healthy.

“May I have some?” the stranger asked.

Caranthir filled a bowl and brought it to his guest. Dog livened up, leaping up to the stranger and yapping happily. The stranger drew his feet to himself.

“What beast is that?” he asked.

Caranthir stared at him. “A dog.”

“Looks more like a wolf.”

“It’s a dog. She wants some stew. Come here, girl, you’ve had your share.”

After Dog went away, the stranger relaxed and dug in.

“It is good!” he cried after the first spoonful. Caranthir bristled at the surprise in his voice. “Where did you find so many vegetables?” the stranger asked.

“I grew them.”

“You grew them!”

“That’s what I said.”

The stranger kept staring at him, expectant. His eyes were bright and curious. Caranthir began speaking almost against his will.

“I have a greenhouse,” Caranthir said. “I grow my food. I go scavenging for everything I need to keep it functioning – from generators to fertile soil. The soil here is mostly corrupted. Nothing grows except mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms,” the stranger said, eyes glazing over. “They grew in the caves. We tried to grow other things, too. Not everything did, but what we had was good.”

“You lived in a cave?” Caranthir asked and immediately regretted it, afraid the stranger would go on monologuing forever.

“It was a cave system,” the stranger said. “I founded a commune there when the Collapse was just beginning. Then I… trusted the wrong people.”

He put the bowl away.

“Thank you for the stew. I’m tired. Would you mind if I went back to sleep?”

Caranthir shrugged. The stranger closed his eyes, and for a moment, Caranthir regretted not hearing his monologue. There was something enticing about the stranger’s voice hoarse and weakened as it was. In a better life, he would have sung.

---

The stranger was up and smiling serenely when Caranthir brought him his breakfast the next morning.

“What are you so happy about?” Caranthir snapped without meaning to.

The stranger shrugged. “I am alive. The sky is gray, so no red storm today.”

“Is that enough?”

“It is for me.”

He brushed away a golden lock from his face and met Caranthir’s eyes. There was a sharpness about him underneath the soft words and looks – a honed edge that he concealed with smiles. Caranthir had a frightening thought that he wouldn’t mind cutting himself against it.

“I forgot to thank you yesterday,” the stranger said, “for saving my life.”

“I almost didn’t,” Caranthir admitted. “I almost left you there to die. I wasn’t sure you would survive.”

“I was sure I wouldn’t,” the stranger said merrily. “But miracles happen. There is still good left in the world.”

Caranthir wasn’t particularly fond of such talks. He put the tray down and turned to leave, but the stranger’s voice stopped him.

“What should I call my savior?” he asked.

Caranthir hesitated before giving his name. The stranger certainly wouldn’t stay for long, and Caranthir didn’t want to get to know him better. Telling him his name seemed like crossing a line.

“Caranthir,” he said anyway.

“Caranthir,” the stranger repeated slowly, tasting the word.

Caranthir shivered.

“What’s your name?” he asked to avoid thinking about his reaction.

The stranger smiled. “I have many names.”

Caranthir didn’t know if there was vanity or playfulness behind his words. He disliked both. He had a few names, too, but he wasn’t gloating about it.

“Choose one,” he said curtly.

“Finrod,” said Finrod, unbothered. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Caranthir doubted it. He only grunted in acknowledgment and left.

---

A few days later, while Caranthir was working in the greenhouse, he heard Dog growling outside. He hurried out to find Finrod there, leaning on a broom, trying to slowly back away from Dog.

“What are you doing here?” Caranthir asked.

“I just wanted to see the plants,” Finrod said. “Can you please call her off?”

“Come here, Dog,” Caranthir said. “Down, girl, it’s fine.”

“You named your dog Dog?” Finrod asked.

From his tone, it was clear he didn’t find it funny.

“What’s it to you?” Caranthir asked, suddenly defensive.

Finrod’s face twisted and then settled on a smile. “Nothing. It’s just strange, is all. To name your dog that.”

“I didn’t name her,” Caranthir said, “and she isn’t mine. I mean I never wanted a dog. I used to have cats. But now all the cats have fled south, and most of the dogs too. Dog found me. I didn’t want her to stick with me, but she did.”

“Just like me,” Finrod grinned.

“Not at all,” Caranthir sputtered.

Finrod just shrugged as if he was generously deciding to let Caranthir believe he was right. It was maddening.

“You can’t be here,” Caranthir said curtly. “You aren’t allowed to come inside the greenhouse. You will upset my plants.”

“Oh. All right.”

“And you shouldn’t be walking anyway. You can barely keep yourself on your feet. Come on, I’ll help you back to bed.”

“Thanks,” Finrod smiled.

He slung an arm around Caranthir’s shoulders. His fingers were warm when they gripped Caranthir’s arm.

---

Caranthir occupied a small part of an abandoned villa, rendered mostly unusable by the Collapse. Most of his possessions were in the villa, but he often slept in the shed. He had found out sleep came easier there than in the main building, haunted by the past. But now Finrod was in the shed, and Caranthir didn’t sleep well in the large, ornate bed. Especially when Finrod screamed. It was so loud that Caranthir could hear him even when he sought refuge in the farthest rooms of the villa. Dog did too. Sometimes, she joined Finrod and howled mournfully. It had to wake Finrod up because he would fall silent.

In the morning, he was cheerful and talkative as if it hadn’t been his bloodcurdling screams that had kept Caranthir up all night.

Within a couple of weeks, Finrod was out and about. He turned out to be an inquisitive person by nature, which Caranthir disliked. Finrod kept asking questions about everything and tried to look for answers himself if he didn’t deem Caranthir’s satisfactory.

He went on expeditions into the decaying guts of the building and came back with treasures – mostly books, but also a painting of a seaport, a set of silver spoons, a golden necklace, a warm coat and many other trinkets. He gave most of these to Caranthir and hung the painting in the shed.

He didn’t mention wishing to see the greenhouse again, though Caranthir noticed him glancing in its direction from time to time. But he was glad Finrod said nothing.

Caranthir guarded his greenhouse jealously. He spent hours there every day, looking after his plants, making sure everything was functioning. Sometimes he just sat there among the greenery, away from the outside chaos, in a place that was his only. He didn’t want to share it with anyone else.

---

Finrod volunteered for foraging missions, looking for mushrooms and anything that still grew in the dying forest, checking the traps on the off chance something had been caught.

He found an old box of pasta in the ruins of the villa and made dinner one night. Caranthir supplied cherry tomatoes and basil from his greenhouse.

One morning, Finrod asked Caranthir to cut his hair and offered to do the same for him. Caranthir refused. He liked his way the way it was, and he didn't think he could sit still while Finrod touched him. But he did agree to give Finrod a haircut, fighting against the disturbing thought of keeping a lock of his hair.

Finrod somehow roped Caranthir into some sort of a book club. They each would take a book from the pile Finrod had saved from the villa, meet to discuss it when they were done reading, then exchange the books. Despite himself, Caranthir became fond of those nighttime talks in front of a fire. He was drawn to Finrod’s clever and passionate speech. The shadows of the flames danced on his face as he spoke, alternatively hiding and highlighting the claw marks on his skin. Caranthir watched, mesmerized, feeling as if he’d been transported into a book about a noble king. At times, he found himself angry with Finrod for making him look forward to these meetings because he was going to miss them when Finrod inevitably left.

---

It seemed like Finrod had made it his mission to find out everything he could about Caranthir. He was relentless in his questioning, undeterred by Caranthir’s brisk or avoidant answers.

“You never told me about your family,” he said once.

“I never told you anything,” Caranthir said, even though it wasn’t entirely true. “I haven’t heard from my family for a long time. I don’t know if they live. There is nothing more to tell.”

He didn’t like to think about it. He hadn’t been particularly close to his brothers, but he still missed them sometimes. If they survived the Collapse, he didn’t know where they would have gone. He couldn’t go looking for them. He couldn’t abandon the greenhouse, and it was nearly impossible to travel for long. The roads were dangerous. Even if you escaped the gangs, there were always the storms. If you didn’t have shelter during red storms, you were as good as dead.

“You also never ask me about myself,” Finrod said. “Aren’t you curious who I am? Why did I appear half-dead on your doorstep?”

“No,” Caranthir said. “I don’t need to ask. You tell me everything without prompting.”

Finrod laughed. “Well, that’s just not true. What do you know about me?”

“You have three siblings. You were born by the sea. You hate dogs. You led a commune, which you lost because you wanted to help a friend. You got into serious trouble, probably with a gang. Or maybe with one of those cults that grew like mushrooms after the Collapse. Your friend’s girlfriend saved you, but you were injured and then separated from them during a storm.”

“Huh. So I do talk a lot,” Finrod said lightly.

“But you are blessed with the amazing ability of not being able to hear yourself talk,” Caranthir said. “The rest of us aren’t so lucky.”

The truth was Finrod hadn’t really offered the information openly, but Caranthir had pieced it together from passing mentions and from Finrod’s nightmares.

Finrod clutched at his book with a hand that was shaking a little. It took him a few attempts to open it. Caranthir almost moved to help him but restrained himself. He hadn’t considered that putting all he knew about Finrod together might upset him. He wasn’t happy about the fact that he was upset too.

He got to his feet and strode to his greenhouse to calm down.

---

“I don’t hate Dog,” Finrod said over breakfast the next day.

Caranthir frowned. “What?”

“You think I hate Dog. I don’t. I am just a little wary of her.”

Caranthir saw something more behind Finrod’s smile. He didn’t ask.

“Good,” he only said.

“Have you always been this charming?” Finrod asked.

Caranthir didn’t appreciate the sarcasm and let his blank stare show it.

“If you don’t like my company, you may always leave,” he said.

Finrod was going to leave anyway once he fully recovered. He would probably return to his commune to take it back or he would go to find his friend. Or maybe he’d go looking for greener pastures.

“I was just joking,” Finrod said.

It was infuriating he could smile so calmly when Caranthir was trying to be rude to him. Even more infuriating was the sudden realization that Caranthir’s face was attempting to mirror the smile.

Caranthir looked away.

“It wasn’t funny,” he said.

“I’ll do better next time.”

Caranthir lost the battle against the smile.

---

Finrod had to be having the loudest nightmare to date. Caranthir closed his ears, but he could still hear him. Even the Dog’s howling didn’t wake him up.

Unable to take it anymore, Caranthir got up, determined to put an end to it, but then the noise abruptly stopped. Yet, Caranthir hesitated to go back to sleep. Mad at himself for doing it, he went out of the house to check on Finrod. With Dog in tow, he approached the shed, and knocked but received no answer. Concerned, he pushed the door and peeked inside. Finrod wasn’t there.

“Damn him,” he muttered and stroked Dog’s head. “Where do you think he is, girl?”

Dog yapped and began running. Caranthir followed her to the greenhouse. He couldn’t believe Finrod would do it, but sure enough, the lock was messed with, and he could see a figure inside.

He stormed in, startling Finrod, who was crouched over a strawberry plant.

“What are you doing here?” Caranthir yelled.

Finrod got to his feet, stumbling a little.

“I was-I was just curious,” he said.

“It is locked for a reason!” Caranthir cried. “The plants are very fragile. Who allowed you to go inside?”

“I’m sorry. I just needed– I wanted to see the plants. I wanted to see life.”

Finrod ran a shaky hand through his damp hair. He was wearing only shorts, and Caranthir could plainly see the scars decorating his body. He refused to let himself be distracted by it.

“You had no right to come here,” he said. “It is my greenhouse.”

“You disappear here every day for hours,” Finrod said. “I just wanted to see what keeps you so busy.”

“So you betrayed me because you were bored?”

“Betrayed you?” Finrod laughed – a cold sound. “You don’t know what betrayal is.”

“You don’t know enough about me to make that claim.”

“I just wanted to see the plants. I wanted to get to know you better.”

“You will leave in the morning,” Caranthir said. “If not, Dog and I will make you.”

Caranthir almost expected Finrod to tear up, to ask him to reconsider but instead, Finrod’s face grew stony. Guiltily, Caranthir thought his eyes looked especially striking now.

“Fine,” Finrod said. “I won’t stay where I am unwanted. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He walked away, his golden hair shimmering under the faintly glowing sky.

---

Caranthir didn’t sleep that night. He was still angry, but as the dawn neared, he became ashamed, then fearful. He remembered Finrod’s screams echoing in the silent night. He remembered Finrod’s words. I wanted to see life.

The moment the first rays of the sun fell through his window, Caranthir strode out of the villa.

The shed was empty.

Finrod hadn’t taken anything with him. Caranthir stood frozen for a moment, then ran out. Whistling for Dog, he began looking for something – a trace that Finrod could have left, but there was nothing.

“Find him,” Caranthir begged Dog. “Please find him.”

He gave her a shirt of Finrod’s to sniff and followed her as she ran. But just moments later, Dog stopped and raised her snout up, then whined fearfully.

“No,” Caranthir pleaded as if he expected Dog to tell him that she was mistaken.

But Dog was never wrong in such cases. A red storm was coming.

“It is still a few hours away,” Caranthir said. “We’ll look for him until we have to return home.”

So they did, but they couldn’t find Finrod. The smell of the impending storm had messed up Dog’s senses. Despairing, Caranthir dragged his feet back. He wondered if Finrod would find cover or if Caranthir had condemned him to death. He couldn’t breathe properly. He told himself it was because of the approaching storm.

He usually rode these out in the greenhouse, but now he hesitated to enter. He could see Finrod crouching over the strawberry, a leaf between his fingers, his eyes half-closed as if he was drawing strength from the plant. He could see his pallor, his uneven breathing, the sweaty hair stuck to his temples.

There was still some time until the storm. Barely realizing what he was doing, Caranthir dashed into the greenhouse, went to the farthest, separate section, picked a single white daffodil and locked the door from the outside.

He put the flower on Finrod’s cot, closed Dog in his bedroom in the villa, then went out. He and Dog had looked for Finrod in the forest. Caranthir ran in the opposite direction now. He searched the rare buildings that were still intact. He checked inside the hollows of rotting trees. He resorted to calling Finrod’s name and pleading with him to answer. There was no response.

The storm was closing in. The air smelled faintly of sulfur. Caranthir could taste the electricity in the back of his throat. If he died in this storm, there would be no one left to take care of Dog and the greenhouse. There would be no one left to look for Finrod and help him if he’d managed to survive.

Caranthir hurried back home, looking around hopelessly for any sign of Finrod. When he reached the villa, he feared the storm had caught up with him, and he had been struck by lightning, so strong was his shock.

The shed door was open.

Caranthir ran to it and stopped at the threshold. Finrod was inside, standing by the cot, staring open-mouthed at the white daffodil. Caranthir knew it had to be the first flower he had seen in years.

“I will leave,” Finrod said without turning to Caranthir. “But there is a red storm coming. I don’t know if you would allow me to wait it out here. I promise to leave as soon as it’s over.”

“You really think I would let you die?” Caranthir snapped.

He hadn’t planned to sound rude. He had planned to apologize, but nothing ever happened as he planned.

“Wouldn’t you?” Finrod asked.

“No,” Caranthir said, softer. “Stay.”

Finrod took the daffodil and brought it to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent.

“Will you?” Caranthir asked. “Stay.”

Finrod slowly turned to him.

“You grow flowers,” he said.

Caranthir shrugged. “They also have a right to live.”

His face felt hot. He turned away from Finrod, but he knew even his neck was blushing.

“Why were you hiding it from me?” Finrod asked, approaching.

“Because I knew you would like it.”

“So?”

“And I knew I would like it that you liked it. I didn’t want that.”

“Why not?”

Caranthir said nothing. Finrod put a tentative hand on his shoulder, but Caranthir threw it off.

“You are going to leave once you feel well enough,” he said. “You’re going to find someplace else, someplace better. People like you always do.”

“I am not going to find a better place than this.”

“Great fucking compliment,” Caranthir spat, turning around.

Finrod laughed. “What I mean is, what if I have already found a better place? The best place.”

“Sure, here, in the middle of nothing, with a dog that you are afraid of and a man who is gloomy and bitter.”

“You aren’t bitter,” Finrod said. “You’re just honest to a fault, blunt and irritable.”

Caranthir glared. “I would have preferred bitter.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

“You?” Caranthir asked. “Let’s hold hands and kiss under the rainbow you?”

“I am,” Finrod said. “I’m bitter because I was ousted from the place I founded. I’m bitter because I was betrayed. And I’m bitter because I don’t know what it says about me as a leader, as a person, that out of all those who lived there, who claimed to love me, only ten fucking people followed me. I will forever be bitter. Had I been less bitter, perhaps I wouldn’t have left you after one stupid argument.”

“You came back,” Caranthir noted.

“Yeah, well. I’ve managed to grow a self-preservation instinct.”

“I like you better this way,” Caranthir said. “When you aren’t performing.”

“You like me?” Finrod grinned.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

Finrod stepped forward and pressed his lips to Caranthir’s. It took him a moment of hesitation, but Caranthir responded, catching Finrod by the collar and pulling him closer, his teeth drawing blood from Finrod’s lips and from his own.

Caranthir drew back, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry,” he said, his tongue running over his lips.

“Don’t be,” Finrod said with conviction.

He looked out of the window.

“We better hide,” he said. “The storm will hit soon.”

The sky was burning red overhead as Caranthir and Finrod ran to the greenhouse. The fiery clouds were charging, filling with electricity that they would soon rain down on every unlucky creature outside.

Caranthir locked the greenhouse door and checked the insulation. It would hold. He turned to Finrod who was standing still, wide eyes looking at the greenery.

“I had a terrible nightmare,” he spoke. “I was dreaming about my friends. I have lost many. Violently. I just had to see something alive when I woke up. I felt like my heart would stop if I didn’t.”

“You can come here as much as you like,” Caranthir blurted out, but he didn’t regret it when Finrod’s hopeful look turned to him.

“Thank you,” Finrod said.

“Or you can come to me,” Caranthir offered impulsively.

He held his breath until Finrod smiled and gave a slight nod.

They walked to the flowerbeds. Caranthir saw Finrod wipe a tear away as he took in all the colors and the scents.

“How beautiful,” he whispered. “And how utterly like you to make something so beautiful.”

The praise made Caranthir’s face feel hot. He sat down. Finrod joined him, and they spoke about flowers for a while. Then they silently listened to the howling wind outside, safe and warm in the greenhouse.

The storm raged above as they lay side by side among daffodils and hyacinths and watched the darkening sky. Caranthir closed his eyes and took Finrod’s hand, and he did it gently.

[thebxghag]

Arts professional to garden blogger pipeline? LOL anyway...

It's very early in the year, but I live in an area with an extremely short growing season, so this year I'm trying to start as many of the plants that would need more love inside as possible. Last year, we planted tomatoes directly into the garden boxes and unfortunately the plant had only started producing fruit at the very end of our viable growing time.

We had to harvest them all still green, as a result, and we had way too many tomatoes for us alone to eat, so the majority of them got given away and we didn't really get to enjoy them over the entire summer.

This year I'm hoping we can start enjoying tomatoes way earlier by planting the seeds indoors now!

Anyway, we get roasted chickens a lot, and it's a lot of plastic waste, and I needed a greenhouse but didn't want to buy a big one because of the cost. These little containers are kind of perfect tho??? They've got venting abilities too which is great.

I'm starting these five plants now and then I still have broccoli and squash to start later in the season, as their indoor starting times don't have to be as long as these ones. I'm doing a pollinator/native plant garden in addition to my vegetable garden this year, and the marigolds are for pest control.

(Not pictured here, a secret sixth plant: the green pepper package since I finished it and tossed it before I decided to do this, oops xDDD).

I have a bunch of other flowers as well, but they can all be direct sown. I'll be planting sweet peas, sunflowers (red and yellow), cosmos, and I have hollyhock but since this area has a lot of small children and people wandering between backyards when you wouldn't want them to, I don't think it's probably safe to actually plant it outside of a balcony garden here so I won't be sowing them this year (I'd gotten them for last year when I was on my own at an apartment, and so my flowers wouldn't have been accessible to anything but birds and pollinators from my balcony).

I've planted mouse melons before in this area, but they were from a mature seedling -- we had a huge yield, and I want to try pickling them still, so I've started them indoors myself this year. Very excited.

Also exceptionally excited about the blue cherry tomatoes if only because I find it very novel when vegetables aren't 'traditional colours'. Hehehehe.

anyway long story short I started all my indoor greenhouses and I don't have like -- grow lights or anything but I'll do my best. LOL Guess this counts as planting day one.

[spenglerssweetheart]

That, Southern thing

In which reader from the south can smell the rain just before it comes.

Pairing: Ghostbusters x reader.

Warnings: none.

Springtime in New York was always nice, And for the ghostbusters it was certainly something. Having a new recruit is all well, only there’s one small thing about her that the others find somewhat odd. She can smell the rain before it comes.

Y/n was a particular person, had just as much passion in the paranormal just like the others, and a passion for the outdoors and botanics. The others didn’t quite mind, since the few plants around the firehouse simply brightened up the place a little more.

——

“Y/n, This isn’t a greenhouse, come on you can’t keep bringing these plants in” “it’s literally a small thing that is going to Egon, it’s literally for him. It’s his.” Y/n retorted to Peter, who watched her go up the stairs and assuming into the lab. Y/n and Egon were going to be spending a little time outdoors, even though it was partly cloudy.

Y/n was in a particularly good mood, and Egon could tell the moment she stepped into the lab. “What’s got you in a good mood today Y/n?” “We’re going outside again, and it’s not that sunny” She said as she handed Egon the small potted plant. He was going to be doing some sort of experiment with the plant and how it would react to the ectoplasmic slime left over from one of their recent busts.

“Oh uh Winston and Ray want to join us, maybe Janine if she isn’t so busy? Is that alright with you?” She asked softly, walking over to his small jars that contained growing fungus. “Sure, but I’m hoping things don’t interfere with what we’re trying to collect” Egon said, moving small things around before leading Y/n back downstairs.

They didn’t really need a coat or anything but Y/n still took a light cardigan sweater in case.

Once they arrived at the park, Y/n went towards the growing bushes that were sporting few flowers here and there. All of the other ghostbusters had decided to join and make it somewhat of a fun day out. The wind was nice and cool but it was starting to become a little more cloudy.

The others watched as Y/n stood up and looked up at the sky, before the familiar earthy scent from back home hit her nostrils. The smell of it made her feel a little bit happier, but she frowned to herself.

“I think we should start heading back, it’s most definitely going to rain in a bit” She started, holding some small flowers as she walked back to the group. “Wait how Can you tell? It’s just cloudy, the sun will come back out” Peter said as he placed his hands on his hips. “You guys don’t smell the rain?…” Y/n asked softly, looking around at the others who had a confused look on their faces before they began shaking their heads.

“Oh-” She said surprised, before a loud strike of thunder was heard. “O-Kay we really should start heading back” Winston said, beginning his walk towards the way they entered. The others following shortly behind.

After that incident, Peter often teased Y/n about it, if not Y/n the others by complete accident. When they catch Y/n outside with her nose in the air and it’s barely clouding over, a small “She’s doing that southern thing again!” Is heard and the others simply just laugh to themselves about it, but most times than not it helps a bunch before the guys go on a bust or coming back from one.

This is literally a small Drabble because I miss the rain, and it’s just too hot that I need it so very much right now. (Yes I am from the south) And like this idea hit me when my grandma and my aunt were talking about hurricane season, and like the faintest smell of the moist dirt before the rain came hit me and I was like ‘I have to write about this’

Anyway. I hope you guys liked this, again it was a small Drabble, a little idea that I needed to get out. But if anything, like, share, reblog whatever, I would so greatly appreciate it. I love you, have a better day, stay safe! BYE!!

[neekocalico]

I like to think that each Papa had a personal room besides their bedroom that they kept hidden from most. Only people they really trusted were told about it/ shown where it was since to each of them it was a safe space.

Primo's room was unsurprisingly filled with herbs and plants, there is a sort of alchemy station in there too. Anything that he could not grow outside or in his greenhouse was put in that room. He also used the room to breed his plants to create interesting hybrids which he then studies. Primo also had a very old radio in that room just for some background noise. How he managed to get all the things he needed for their care into there without anyone noticing is still a mystery.

He often loses track of time when in there, tending to his plants not thinking about anything else for once. He sometimes hears siblings or ghouls walk past the room and chuckles wondering if some of these had been sent to search for him. Primo while wanting to keep this space hidden wouldn't be too upset if he was ever found knowing he could move his plants somewhere else if he needed to.

-

Secondo's room was his own little library and reading space, it's the most out of the way from all of them and sometimes he regrets having to walk that far to get to it but once inside it's all worth it. There is a very comfortable armchair with matching footrest, a silk blanket for colder days and nights, and candles to set the mood (some of them are scented). Then of course there are bookshelves all kept in matching dark wood filled with all kinds of literature.

It's the one space he really manages to relax in, no being Papa at all just being himself. Sec hates when he hears somebody come even close to the room he doesn't want to be found he wants to be left alone. Though there are some exceptions, a few of his ghouls know about the room. They also know to leave him alone when he is in there but sometimes one of them joins him. Staying quiet either just relaxing in the calm room while he reads or themselves reading something.

-

Terzo's room is close to where the ghouls sleep, it keeps most people away and it makes him feel safe. Unlike the others the room doesn't have one specific use, it's really more a second bedroom than anything. He hates how his *real* bedroom looks, how it feels more like something you would show off than actually live in. It doesn't fit him and he hates that he can not make too many changes to it so he instead just made another room just like he wants it.

It's not all fancy and proper like his other one, it's mismatched since going out and buying all new stuff would have been suspicious. It is a little messy but it makes him feel safe and happy so to Terzo it's perfect. His ghouls 100% know about it and are welcome there, especially Omega who spends a lot of time there with him. The ghouls are also the ones that make sure nobody finds that room.

-

Copia's room is still new, it started as him wanting to store some things to get his own room a little less messy but evolved from there. First, he made room for his rats, having them in a room kept them out of trouble while giving them some playing space. Then he added things for himself so he could spend more time there comfortably. Which meant he needed to move some of the stuff he at first wanted to store which lead him to find Primo's hidden room.

Most of the plants are dead but a few survived, he takes them to his room and takes care of them from this point. Next, he finds Terzo's it makes his stomach cramp being in there for long but he takes an old vanity box filled with letters, early drafts of songs, and a few other trinkets, like Terzo's earrings, with him. Last he finds Secondo's room by then having looked for it thinking that if the other two had one he surely did too. Aether helps him carry one of the smaller bookshelves to his room.

He puts the box into a free space in the shelf and the plants on top of it. He will never read those letters that Terzo had written and received, but he frames some of the early drafts of his songs. He goes back grabbing some more of the plants, he can't save them but he presses them and makes a booklet. He goes through the books making sure they are in okay shape at least.

The three might be gone but the memories of them weren't at least not to Copia.

[prof-peach]

Heya professor!

I have a question regarding my Torterra, Ygdras. I'm starting college next semester and wil be staying in a Pokémon-allowed dorm, but the scamp evolved a bit unplanned...

Considering his size now (I'm 6ft and his head is at my chest-height), and my 3rd story room its safe to say he can't sleep with me like we were used too. My room overlooks a patch of forest on the grounds however, where he could potentially spend his nights. But winters can get a bit chilly here (north of Kalos).

How cold can Torterra handle? Are there any special steps I can take to keep my buddy healthy during the colder winter nights? Or would he be better of at home where he can sleep in his greenhouse?

Also, is it true Torterra keep growing?

Thank you!!

Think of it this way: Torterra and its evolutions exist without human intervention just fine, and know how to survive winters without us fussing so much. Plants are built to survive, and have many ways to wait out the rough weather and bounce back in spring.

Issues arise if the Torterra in question is a variant that does not belong in the region you reside in. This is not alwasy the case but for instance a palm torterra will need wildly different care to a pine torterra in winter. I will assume yours is a bog-standard pure breed deciduous turt, seeing as youve not mentioned otherwise.

So winter time the leaves should drop, their energy levels will reduce, and if its quite cold, they do tend to bury their bodies in the dirt, and wait out the worst of the cold. This is essentially hibernation. A torterra will find an adequate patch of nutrient dense dirt and start to dig. You could help them with this if they show signs of wanting to do so, but otherwise they are more than capable with those stone toes of theirs. If they struggle to find good dirt, mulch a patch for them that THEY like, and turn it into the dirt. Leave it for two weeks, and then let them dig into that. Should be fine by then. They do not need watering nor feeding during hibernation.

If it's hanging out in a forest with other tree cover, it shouldnt have any issue, even if it snows. even frost is fine with this species, theyre very tolerant. If leaves start to shed, and they seem sluggish, id encourage rooting and burrying the body. They will do this until the ground frost stops.

You could send them home, theyd stay active in a greenhouse but still slow. If theyre in dormancy with you, they wont exactly be up and moving, not wandeiring around or intercting with you much. They sleep, pretty much permanently until the spring comes when its that cold.

Have a chat with them, they may want to do this, it does usually encourage more healthy growth come the new year, and rejuvinates their energy more than if they wander around all through the colder months. You'd see healthy regrowth and a much more vibrant mon, hell, maybe even flowers next summer. Without this rest, pokemon can become a little more run down, but adequate food and rest seems to counter this just fine.

Its a personal choice, some are hot blooded and want to keep moving and battling, others are happy to huddle for the winter and store energy for the coming months. Chat with them, see if you can make your mind up.

[toontruelove]

welll,,,,, if your willing to write for ocs as well,,,,,,

you could write some mugchai fluff if u feel like it?

OOOH like maybe chai infodumping about her successfully propagating one of her plants to mugs and him just finding this to be amazing (his interest more in chai then how to propagate hehe)

OR IDK WRITE WHAT YOU WANT DAIJHJSHBSDF

Art provided by @sovereignspades !

“It took me weeks to get the seeds fully separated from the stem mugs!” Chai said as she placed a pot with a budding flower in it in the sunlight before turning the pot left and then right, just to make sure the flower got the right amount of sunlight. “Star lilies are more sensitive than I thought, and they take four years to produce a flower!” she said as she walked to another plant to gently spray it with a mister. Mugman was sitting on the bed just watching Chai info dumped about all the plant’s she has in her care but he wasn’t really taking in that information as he was just happily watching her tend to the plants. He knew she loved plants and she was from some far away place but he never thought that wherever she came from they didn’t have plants. But seeing her happily ruling around the room with a smile on her face was enough for him to have a grin on his. He was never one for plants. ya he thought they were nice but meeting Chai and getting to know her more it’s like she opened his eyes to how plants are needed wherever they are needed, and it was because of her he learned so much. But he learned so much more about her from the plants. He would watch as she would be careful with watering them and make sure to not over water them, or how she would do her best not to harm the roots when moving a plant to a bigger pot. He would watch as she would even test out the soil levels to see if it’s safe for whatever she was gonna plant that day.  “I am proud of my plants but this one is the one I am the most proud of!” Chai said, making mugman shake his head out of his daze as she ran over to a little makeshift greenhouse she had in her room and gestures for him to come over and not wanting to make her wait he got up and walked over to her to peer into the greenhouse. Inside was the bud of a flower with some jagged leaves growing on the side. “A rose?” he asked and Chai just had a big grin on her face. “Not just any rose! It’s a Hybrid tea rose!” she said excitedly as she moved her hands side to side.

“A hybrid tea rose is one of the hardest flowers to grow mugs! It’s the type of rose that the best floral shops sell at such a high price because of how hard they are to grow! They need a loamy, well drained soil that has a slightly acidic pH level. But with the help of mulch it can keep the roots cooled off!” As Chai starts to talk about the rose and what it needs, mugman can’t help but slip back into that state of just being more interested in her.

He can’t help but move to sit down as she happily told him everything about the flower and its need but he soon chuckled a bit making her stop and cross her arms at him. “And what’s so funny mugs?” she asked with a bit of a tap of her foot. And Mugs can’t believe he let this slip. “You know you’re really cute when you talk about something you’re so passionate about you know that?” he said, making not just his face turn pink in the process but Chai’s as well.

Both of them were bubbling at this point and were silent for a bit. “W-well um I’ll see ya later ok spices!!” Mugman said as he got up and with a soft ‘clink’ kissed her on the cheek before bubbling more and running out of her room. With a deep blush Chai put her hand on her cheek as she was almost bubbling over.

“Shit…” she said as she looked at the bed and soon saw Mugman’s coat. “Oh shit! Mugs wait!” she yelled as she grabbed the coat and ran out of the room, but seeing that he was already gone she sighed and looked at the coat a bit. “Guess I can give it to him at work…” she said before curiosity got the best of her and next thing she knew she had slipped the coat on and an overwhelming feeling of being safe overcame her as she gripped the sleeves of the coat. “I guess… I can give this back to him later” she said with a bit of a laugh as she hugged herself in the coat.

It was a few days later that Mugman was asking her about his coat and seeing her chase she just calmly said. “Oh ya you left it at my place after you ran out.” she said and looked at him with a smile. “You can have it back, after we see a movie together.” she said as her face started to turn pink and her mind started to race wondering if she overstepped an unknown boundary. But hearing Mugs laugh a bit calmed her nerves. “Sure, how about I pick you up and we head out together?” he said with a grin. “But you can use the coat till we get back, it might be late when we get back to the complex.” he said as he gently took her hand in his and gently kissed the back of it with a wink. Chai was too flustered to speak when mugman let her hand go and calmly walked away. With his arms folded behind his back. But as he walked away he soon realized that, he had not only kissed her on the cheek making that twice now but he had also kissed the back of her hand. Swallowing hard he tugged a bit at his bowtie but with some confidence, he was ready to make this the best date ever for her. All he had to do now was make some calls.

[the-eeveekins]

The 14th Day of G-Witch: Envoys From Earth

Season 2 starts with a series of duels that aren't even close, but at least we got some unique mobile suit designs out of them. Maybe someday they'll show up on P-Bandai? I'm a little sad they we don't get to see what happened with Suletta & Miorine in the immediate aftermath of The Slap, but it always seemed likely they were very quickly separated afterwards, with little-to-no time to talk after Miorine called Suletta a murderer. But I also liked how the 2nd season starts out seemingly with a return to their normal safe school life, with classes and duels, and slowly tears it away as the episode progresses, telling the audience that the safety of the school is gone and it's not coming back.

This is also the start of El5n basically being not just a clown, but the entire circus. And when he's not being a creeper towards Suletta, I love him for it.

And thus begins the Delling Rembran Rehabilitation Arc (🤢). I always said that the smartest thing Delling did as a character was be a little nicer to Miorine and save her life before falling into a coma for a whole season, because suddenly a lot of people forgot what a dick he was. So much wasted potential too.

Everyone's favorite background lesbians, Maisie and Ireesha. They're adorable.

Casual reminder that since they've been separated Suletta has been tending to Miorine's greenhouse and messaging her everyday, just like she asked.

All the respect to Prospera's manipulation game. She knows exactly what she needs to say to each girl regarding what happened at Plant Quetta, and ultimately it helps push Miorine deeper into her schemes.

Sophie is here! While Suletta is definitely caught off guard at first, I love how excited and eager she is to try and fulfill the role of Sophie's onee-chan.

I love Sophie and my heart goes out to her. It always makes me happy to see her enjoy the Open Campus and get to enjoy the life she always wanted but was also denied to her.

You know what else I love about Sophie? Cockblocking El5n every time he tries to rizz Suletta. She's a good girl.

Also, have some 5Nore!

You know who is a good hero in this show? Suletta! Doesn't she look dashing rushing in to save Nika? And the way she easily picks her up and carries her out of harm's way? That's a sapphic woman's dream right there.

That said, Suletta is lucky Sophie likes her so much because there's no way this should work.

I love this shot of Prospera talking to Miorine. Chef's kiss. I'm not necessarily a fan of this shot down the Plant Quetta shaft (the 3rd time now?) Now that we know that this isn't Quiet Zero, and merely the parts to amplify the range of the Data Storm, the continued focus on this one object seems really strange. I'm not sure if it was always meant to be a decoy for the audience or there was a late change regarding the introduction of Quiet Zero.

Okay, so I've got to talk about Red:birthmark. This ending took my breath away the first time I watched it, I was just utterly captivated. While the song itself took a couple listens to grow on me, the visuals stood out to me immediately. The start with Suletta on a stage, just missing Miorine and interacting with Aerial, the absolutely striking colors in the middle as Suletta dances with the bits and her clones, and finally Suletta and Miorine dancing together while Aerial watches over them. Endings are usually pretty plain and pretty simple, but this one honestly puts a lot of openings to shame, and it's by far my favorite ED ever.

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –