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Cultivators play a pivotal role in modern agriculture, offering versatile tools for soil preparation, weed control, and crop cultivation. Among the various types of cultivators, a key component that significantly impacts their performance is the cultivator gauge wheel. This wheel helps maintain consistent depth during cultivation, ensuring optimal soil engagement and minimizing crop damage. Learn about the diverse types of cultivators, their applications, and the critical role of the cultivator gauge wheel in maximizing agricultural productivity.
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I am humbly requesting a steve zombie au where the reader gets hypothermia hehehe😌
ty for ur humble request babe ♡ steve zombie au —steve freaks when you show symptoms of hypothermia. fem!reader 2k
"Steve, I think there's something wrong."
Steve raises his head to show he's listening, keeping his gaze on the map. You say it through shivers, sleeves pulled down over your makeshift mittens. "What's wrong, honey?"
He's noticed you aren't yourself today, and he thinks a soft tone is the least he can give you. The stupid map in his hand is tattered, creased down the middle from folding and unfolding. He thought getting to Michigan would be easy, walk in one direction and keep on, but you both need to eat and rest and the weather is too cold to go any further. He needs to find a residential, tonight.
"I feel off. I'm tired and I…" Your mumbling drifts off.
Steve shoves the map under his arm, "What? Tell me."
"Cold," you say, slurred, offering your hands. "I can't feel my fingers."
You're wearing socks over your hands, the best gloves Steve could offer. He takes them with a severe frown, unhappy when the cold of your skin permeates through. You're ice.
"And you don't feel well?" he asks, feeling up your arm to your neck.
Steve digs under the layers of your shirts, hoodie, coat, feeling for your pulse. It feels alarmingly slow. He'd never guess from looking at you how slow your heart is pumping.
Steve doesn't know everything, but he knows you're not supposed to be this cold for this long. You shiver as his fingers warm your neck, a pained hum coming from the very back of your throat as he pulls you in for a hug.
"Okay," he says, rubbing your back even though he knows it's pointless. "Don't worry. We can't stay outside anymore, huh?"
Steve aches to have to drag you down road after road, stretches of streets littered with little protection to offer. The roadside stores here are rocked by the elements, windows smashed and ceilings caving in. You're stumbling by the time a crop of houses appear in the distance, lethargic. Steve thought it was bad that you were cold, of course, but this is a more primal fear. You're not cold, you're freezing, actively freezing.
"You're okay," he says again, his gentlest reassurance. "Sweetheart, just a few more minutes. See that house, the big brown shutters? That's where we're going. Can you do it?"
"I can do it," you murmur.
"I know, but it's my turn to ask stupid questions."
Dead trees line the street, a planter of flowers by the door turned to crisps. Steve props you against a beam of wood holding up the angled porch roof and opens the screen door. He tries the handle on the interior. It's locked, a good sign.
He's admittedly feeling the adrenaline of your imminent demise. Furious with the world and circumstances and himself for letting this happen, Steve kicks the door down with three big kicks. The bang rings like a shot through the entire neighbourhood, he imagines, but there's no time to worry about it.
"You have to–" little gasp, Steve's head hurts, "have to sweep the house," you say as he pulls you inside.
If there's something in here, he has to risk it. Out of options.
He's as softhanded as he can manage dropping you into a seemingly intact couch. The room appears untouched from whoever left it, rather plush, it's a room Steve would've liked to live in.
He grabs your face. You meet his eyes, startled.
"I'm going upstairs for blankets. If something happens, you yell for me as loudly as you can. You don't have to say anything, just scream. Seriously."
"Yeah," you say breathlessly. The last street of walking and the few steps has exhausted you.
"Don't sleep," he says severely.
"No, I won't."
Steve dumps his bag on the floor. He backtracks to the porch to grab yours and wedges the splintered door closed using your bag as a temporary stopper.
You must be hypothermic, cold for days, too cold to sleep last night, and it's all Steve's fault. We can do it, he'd said, just another push. He hoped for better standing further out of Indiana. None of it will matter if you get sick.
He spins to walk up the stairs, falls weak and rushes back into the living room to check on you.
"Everything's okay," he says, taking your face again into his hands and kissing your forehead. It's purely selfish.
You touch his elbow. "I know."
Steve takes off his jacket and puts it over your lap. The house is vaguely warmer than outdoors but it's far from enough to make a difference to you. Heart in his throat, he bounds up the stairs and onto the landing, an L-shape with one bedroom straight in front and four doors on left. The smell of gore coming from the closed master bedroom explains how it could be this clean; it wasn't uncommon at the start of the apocalypse for people to lock themselves in, kill themselves and their families. He has no interest in seeing it, nor unleashing the mould spores that come with decomposition. Whatever blankets were in there are worthless now.
He takes a left and opens the door with a slam. A teenage bedroom not unlike his own back home, a simple comforter on the bed. He grabs it and tosses it on the landing, dipping into the second room. Bathroom, nothing worth having. The third room is a utility room with a jackpot of folded sheets, towels, padded quilts, and a comforter rolled into a log. He throws everything onto the floor and forgets the fourth door, arms fit to burst with fabric as he descends back downstairs.
"Steve?" you ask.
"Yep, yes. I'm here." He drops the blankets at your feet. "Are your clothes damp?"
"I think… no."
"I'd tell you to take off your jacket," he begins, shaking the biggest comforter out over you as he talks, "but I want as many layers as possible. Come here, sweetheart. Lift your back a little." He tucks you in like a pastry. "Good. Good, thank you, sweetheart."
"You're being very nice," you mumble, your eyelashes twitching like you've dimes weighing down your eyelids.
"I'm always nice."
"No," you say, your head falling back into the couch cushions. It's a family couch made of soft fabrics, not the showy leather piece you'd expect in such a mammoth lodging. "You're okay, though."
Steve piles blankets on top of you. The cold is eating at him too, his nose stiff, his hair standing on end as gooseflesh ripples over his arms.
When you've been sufficiently sandwiched, he feels your face again. You're already warmer, his hand creeping down into your shirt to feel for your pulse. Ropey.
"Sweetheart, I need you to try and perk up," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.
"Not feeling perky."
"Ah, but you're always perky. You're my sun, 'cos I'm so awful," he says, panic lining his plea. "You are. I'm going to make you something hot to eat."
"Hot air?" you ask, slinking further down into your hump of sheets.
"I think we might be in luck."
He speaks too soon, really. The cupboards are lackluster. The can of soup he'd been hoping to find doesn't materialise. But there's a small can of ravioli, enough salted fish to make any tom cat happy, and a jug of water beneath the sink. He looks at it and sighs in relief. You have two litres of rainwater in your bag, and that had been the rations. This is one less thing to worry about.
Steve makes sure that there kitchen door and the patio doors in the lonely dining room are locked, taking a big cooking pot from the pantry (depressingly empty bar a bag of sugar spilled on its side and a sack of grain) and a saucepan from atop the stove. He checks the gass but he's never that lucky, resigning himself to a typical campfire when it doesn't work.
"Steve, put it back on," you say as he comes back in, your eyes a little wider, slightly more alert. You've pulled your arms out from under the blankets, with his jacket in your hands.
Steve has kissed you before. You haven't talked about it out loud —he'd like to think a lot has been said in hand-holding, in spooning, and in you hand carding through his hair. He's eager to kiss you again, dumping his findings to hold your wrists. "Thank you," he says, kissing you clumsily, your lips cold. "Now put your arms in. I'll pull the blankets up."
"Can you kiss me again?"
"I'm trying to make you some hot water."
"I'm warm enough already. Please?"
Steve kisses you again. This time, he closes his eyes, puts his hand against your jaw. The sound of your lips pressing to his seems loud in the quiet.
He pulls away with a final peck. "Are you feeling warmer?"
You blow breath up your face. "Bet so."
Steve rolls his eyes and turns away to make a campfire in the stolen pot. He'll boil some water in the saucepan for you to hold like a risky hot water bottle, and make some warmed ravioli. It'll be sweet. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, he'll scavenge for supplies in the neighbourhood. Tonight, he'll burn the kitchen chairs. They don't need them anymore.
"Settle in," he says, opening his backpack for the fire starters and matches. "We'll stay for a while, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Sorry for the fuss."
"Are you kidding?" He can't look at you. He'll probably cry. "It's cold. You were cold, and we didn't– I knew your coat wasn't good enough but I just thought… well, it's my fault. It is. And I– I care about you so much," —he says it in a rush, true but unused to admitting his feelings to you or anyone— "I can't do this without you. I'll take better care of you, I swear. It won't happen again."
"You know what would really warm me up?" you ask.
Steve turns on his heel. "Let me make you something to eat."
"Not hungry, just cold."
Steve tamps down a giddy smile into one more respectable. "Let me feel your pulse," he relents, lifting the heavy layer of blankets to climb inside. Its roasting, the warmest he's felt in weeks, and your arm is alive as he slides into your side.
He puts his hand against your neck, waiting for a steady bump.
"Am I cured?" you ask.
Steve sighs in relief. "You're cured."
You wrap your arms around him. Life with you and in this situation is an endless rise and fall. Something shitty happens, you scrape by, and, as a victory, he gets to hug you in the end.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asks.
"You just said I was cured, Steve," you mumble, digging your face into his shoulder. "Just. Stay here. Keep feeling me up."
"Not what I'm doing."
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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Belong (4.5: Rewind) | MYG
Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; allusion to depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; almost drowning, sexual content (18+)
Chapter Word count: 6k
Series Masterlist
Status: Complete
Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.
Listen to: Nervous by Gavin James || Playlist 🎶
3 years ago
Yoongi’s childhood home is a one-floor house with a spacious kitchen and a nice lawn. His dad had built it for their mother as a way to keep her happy. It has a lot of the things she likes, like a big common space for everyone to gather around during meals, a vertical garden outside, and some planter boxes hanging by the windows. Half of the furniture is from the antique shop, which his dad had refurbished to fit the style of the place.
Yoongi was too young when they first moved in, but he remembers many things about it, like evenings watching talk shows and the news while they all ate and cleaned up as a family, mornings of his parents talking about different topics that got Yoongi interested in watching documentaries, and afternoons with his brother shooting hoops in their small backyard.
He also remembers the weekends you’d stayed over when he was injured, the first time you saw him break down, and the last time you walked out the door. There are memories of him ignoring his dad, arguing with his brother, and that evening when he took down the basketball ring and threw it in the trash.
He spent a whole year living here after the injury. Yoongi saw how his old man remained positive despite the pain over seeing his son struggle, how he worked hard to pay the medical bills, how he tried to make the house feel like the home he lost, even if Yoongi wasn’t sure that was possible, only because you were no longer in it, and there’s really no one to blame but him.
Things got relatively better though. After he fully recovered physically and got to save enough by helping the stores in the area digitize and selling some of his prized NBA jerseys, he moved out and rented a tiny studio apartment. He continued to help his dad at the shop, expanding its services for more income stream while also doing freelance work online. It was mentally tiring, but it helped his mind be preoccupied with things. Perhaps that’s what got him talking to his friends again; it’s what got him to go out and find other ways of moving on from all the pain that he chose to carry by himself.
It’s a Friday when Yoongi visits his old house with some groceries he bought. He got a huge payout in one of the projects he worked on and he’s been slowly paying off his dad by buying the essentials and medication, as his old man insists that there’s no debt to be paid; it’s his job to look out for his son, after all.
“Hey, dad,” Yoongi greets as he walks into the kitchen.
“Hey, son,” his dad replies, scooping them bowls of stew for dinner, a routine they’ve both developed after Yoongi moved out.
They proceed to eat, with him staring blankly down the hallway like he sometimes still does. It hasn’t been a good couple of weeks and he’s just been waiting for the next big project that would help him keep his mind off things again.
“So an old friend was in town this week and we went to this local bar,” his dad says. “It’s nice. They have live music every Thursday. A-reum was the one playing last night.”
At the mention of her name, Yoongi stills for a bit, only to hum in response.
“I asked her how she’s doing and why she hasn’t passed by the shop in a while. Imagine my surprise when she said that you two have broken up. Two months ago. And I was the clueless father who didn’t know that his son was going through another heartbreak,” his dad continues. “What happened, son? You both seemed happy. You looked happy.”
“Shit happens,” Yoongi shrugs, not keen to talk about how much of a jerk he really is. It’s enough that he knows exactly what caused him to fall out of his feelings for her; he doesn’t really want to share that with anyone else.
His dad looks at him with a hardened gaze. It isn’t that he didn’t know about the breakup; it’s more about his son’s reaction to it, how he’s looking indifferent to it as if it’s not possibly hurting him right now. It’s choosing again to go through all this by himself. Even more, it’s the fact that A-reum seemed good for him. Yoongi was smiling again, laughing again; it wasn’t the same as before but it was better than the closed-off, broken version of him.
“What happens?” The older man presses. “A fight that you didn’t want to fix? Remembering something from your old life and then shutting her out? Or was it because she wanted to chase her dreams and you let her leave you?”
If this was 2 years ago, Yoongi would’ve answered back. He would’ve argued that it wasn’t his old man’s place to accuse him like that, even if he has all the reasons to, given Yoongi’s track record. But instead, he just looks down, eyes sullen as he thinks of the night he told her that he no longer felt the same, and that it was better if they continued with their lives separately.
“That’s kind of out of line,” he replies, respectfully.
His dad sighs, suddenly feeling guilty about making assumptions, especially when he knows how hard his son struggled, and how he worked just as hard to be better.
“I’m sorry, son, I just—”
“It’s okay, dad. They’re not baseless accusations,” Yoongi interjects. They’re what happened with you, after all.
“I just… don’t want you to keep pushing away people who love you, who want to be there for you,” his old man says. “It’s an exhausting thing to do at such a young age. You’ve got so much life to live. You can’t be scared forever.”
“I know. It was my fault. There’s still a lot I still can’t let go of,” Yoongi explains, even if there are more reasons behind it. “But I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s hard, sure, but I can manage. You don’t have to worry. I promised I’d reach out if it gets too much.”
“Okay, then,” his dad concedes. It’s progress from before, if he’s being honest, and this is always better than having his son crying on his own and completely shutting everyone out. “How was your day then?”
Dinner continues without the tension from earlier. Both men even get a laugh in. Perhaps Yoongi’s just much better at compartmentalizing now, or maybe he’s picked up a few acting tips from you. But either way, it keeps his dad from asking more. Breaking up with his girlfriend because she reminds him so much of you isn’t exactly in the list of Yoongi’s proudest moments; he’d carry this thought in his grave if he has to.
His old man heads to the couch while Yoongi insists on cleaning up. He washes the dishes, throws out the trash, and organizes all the groceries he’s bought. By the time he joins his dad, he could already hear the snores from next to him. Yoongi lets him be, knowing it’s been a tiring week, and proceeds to watch the show that’s on TV.
It takes a while for him to register that it’s you on the talk show, along with your co-stars from a recently-concluded series where you starred in a supporting role. His dad watched the show religiously; he was probably waiting for this segment before he fell asleep.
The cast consists of mostly veteran actors and you’re the youngest of them all, and so most of the questions addressed to you are about your feelings acting alongside people you look up to and if you felt any fear going into this project.
“Any time I star on a show is terrifying, only because I’m afraid to fail,” you answer. “It means so much to me to be given this chance and I have to tell myself that I can’t waste this opportunity. I only will if I let the fear take over, and that’s like betraying all my hard work, you know? I have to remind myself that I’m meant to take up this space. My agency, my friends, my colleagues - they all helped me get here. Giving in to the fear feels like I’m letting them down, too, and they don’t deserve that.”
The host seems in awe with your answers, so do your co-stars who pat you on the back and remark that you’ve always been very mature, that you’re a hard worker as much as you’re talented, and that they didn’t feel like you were new to the industry with how bold you were.
You cover your face in amusement while they all look fondly at you. You have that smile on, the one where you’re a little embarrassed over being praised, but Yoongi can sense that you’re also a little emotional over hearing what your colleagues think of you.
It’s the first time he’s watching you get interviewed and he’s a little emotional as well, seeing you get flustered but look proud. He listened to you talk about all these things - what shows you want to act in, which actors you want to work with, the attitude you want to bring into every project. You once told him that you admired him for being brave for dreaming, but he never got to tell you the same. He thinks you’re much braver than he ever would be. You loved him fiercely and certainly, after all, and he’d been the scared one who couldn’t do the same.
He stands by his decision that letting you go meant he loved you too much to keep you suffering with him, but sometimes he can’t help but think that maybe he’d been greedy, that his love had been selfish, that his selflessness made him decide for the both of you, and that ultimately pulled you both apart. Seeing you in the same room with people you admire eases that thought a little bit, but it’s your words that hit him harder.
What’s hard work if he doesn’t get to reap the benefits? Perhaps it’s one reason why the injury hurts more than just physically; it’s hard to explain how something so devastating can rip one’s soul, especially when he’d spent years molding his life around basketball only for him to lose his space in its world.
It continues to pain him; he aches for the death of his dream. But it’s the people around him who suffered greatly because he’d given in to the fear of living life without the sport he’d loved greatly. You hurt the most because of it; his family and friends continue to see him without the light in his eyes anymore. He’d hate to think that everyone who’d supported him from when he was able, to when he was broken would think that they haven’t been enough. He’d only wanted to shield them all from how dark it was in his mind so only he gets to shoulder it; perhaps selflessness can actually be selfish, too.
His thoughts are disrupted when your name is called again. The host asks what advice you could give to young aspirants who are just starting or have yet to put one foot on the door of this industry.
“I’m just like them,” you chuckle, a little shy. “I’m still finding my way.”
“But you’ve at least done something,” the host says. “Hearing it from someone close to their age or someone they can relate with may resonate more with them than from the veterans who’ve been doing this for years.”
Your co-stars agree and encourage you to talk, so you take the mic and address the viewers.
“To the young ones in school training to become an actor, or doing this for fun, or exploring the possibility of doing this for a living, I’m telling you now, it’s not always gonna be easy nor glamorous,” you start. “It’s gonna hurt sometimes, you’ll face rejection; you might even feel like it may not be worth it. Remember that it’s all part of the ride. It’s pretty amazing most of the time, especially when you love and respect your craft. Just keep working hard and turn to the people who’ll dream your dream with you.”
Yoongi notices the way your smile fades a little, even more when you say the next words, as if they’re hurting you and giving you peace at the same time.
“But if it gets too much, remember that it’s okay to give up, too. That doesn’t make you weak nor a failure nor a coward,” you continue. “Giving something up decisively takes courage. And you worked hard. The people who love you will love you no matter what.”
A lone tear falls down Yoongi’s cheek. If he was being delusional, he’d think you meant to say the words to him. Maybe the guys still talk to you; perhaps they told you about how he’d stopped playing basketball altogether, how he doesn’t like watching or talking about it anymore, and how he’d given up any bit of dream related to it. And maybe that hurt you, too, and that’s why you’re saying this, perhaps hoping in some way, it will get to him.
He turns off the TV and walks to his room. It hits him when he looks around, the love he once displayed for the sport no longer there. The empty walls that used to be full of posters, the rusty shelf that used to house his trophies, the closet that was once filled with jerseys that he’d sold. He didn’t give it up decisively. He gave it up fearfully and helplessly, because as he looks at this place that’s devoid of what once was his dream, all he feels is pain and guilt.
He misses the sport terribly, and being without it has hurt him more than anything.
Yoongi gets the posters he’d kept under his bed. Some of them have tears in them, most are crumpled. But he meticulously tapes and flattens them before posting them on his walls again, feeling his room come alive once more. He retrieves all his trophies from the big trash bag in the corner, taking each one out and placing them on the shelves.
From inside his closet, he unfolds the 2 remaining jerseys he didn’t have the heart to sell - the MJ one that his mother left for him, and the Allen Iverson one that you got him for your anniversary. He hangs them inside, his fingers tracing the Sixers logo of the one from you, and he allows himself to remember how playing made him feel so happy and free. But more than anything, he lets himself remember the excitement he’d get whenever he watched the sport, whenever he’d talk about or analyze it, whenever he’d think about it, and then a smile graces his face.
Not playing professionally may be an unrealized dream now. He’s in his late 20s with only a college career to be proud of. He’s accepted some time ago that his knee won’t be the same anymore, but he doesn’t need that to enjoy the sport. He still loves it whether he shoots the ball or watches someone else do it.
As he looks around his room, he feels that bit of excitement once again, and all it took was an interview he didn’t intend to watch of the woman whose love he’ll always hold onto for him to realize that he doesn’t want to give all this up. It’ll always pull him back in. If he can’t let it go decisively, then he won’t do it at all, not when it’s what could get him back on his feet again, even if it’s what tore him apart in the first place.
He pulls out his phone and texts his brother.
[To: Geumjae] Are you free in the morning? Can you go to the park with me to shoot around?
[To: Geumjae] I miss it. I think I’m ready
[From: Geumjae] Of course. I’ll drive out and see you tomorrow.
[From: Geumjae] I’m happy for you. Love you.
Being back in his university’s basketball court makes Yoongi feel nostalgic. He spent 4 amazing years making this place his home. He’d had most of his best moments here, like the 3 championships he won with his team. It feels a little weird to be in here all those years later, no longer in the maroon and white jersey that he used to sport but in business casual clothes, as the team’s coach officially welcomes him to the team.
Right after he snapped out of a 3-year long pity party, he played for the first time with his brother. He definitely missed the feel of the ball in his hand and the sound of the net swooshing when he shoots. He still got it, his brother had said, and it felt good to hear it. He wouldn’t deny that he can still shoot pretty well, but he was also practical enough to know that he couldn’t sustain it. His knee still feels stiff at times - a normal occurrence as the doctor had told him - and he’d get tired more easily, but the joy came back. The fear didn’t.
After that, Yoongi went back to watching basketball again, from the NBA to the national and university leagues. He discovered the online space for sports analyses, and he got sucked into its world. He’d comment on articles constantly and make his own, and he’s glad he did because it’s what ultimately landed him this job. One of his former coaches saw what he’d been saying and was impressed; Yoongi’s basketball IQ and unique way of looking at the game haven’t changed, the older man said.
That was 5 months ago and so much has changed since then but he’s proud of how he got back on his feet. There’s a different type of drive now, as he watches the team scrimmage as part of their training. Seeing their passion and hunger for success is inspiring, and the thought of bringing home another crown for the school with them excites him. It’s a new aspiration, and he’ll work hard to make them experience what he experienced as a young player with all his hopes and his dreams. Maybe they could achieve what he couldn’t because if it wasn’t him, then it could at least be someone he helped mold.
One other change has been you, insofar as Yoongi finally watching your concluded series for the first time. His dad insisted, saying he’d watch again with his son since it’s a really good show, and not just because he adores you greatly. But Yoongi wanted his peace and chose to watch it on his own.
He felt proud seeing you on screen. You’re made for it. Your charm and energy shine through and you express emotions so genuinely. He’d ignored his brother’s teasing that he might fall for you again, with Yoongi not wanting to acknowledge the possible truth to that.
But you’re an actual celebrity now and he’s just him. He doesn’t know how your love life has been other than the rumors of you dating some actor or model, which your agency always denied. You’d said once that most of those are just PR stunts anyway and shouldn’t be believed, so Yoongi didn’t bother spending so much time thinking if you were with someone. If any, he just hoped it’s someone who trusts and respects you, and he’d be content with knowing that you’re happy, even if in the deepest cracks of his heart, he wished it was still him.
You haven’t really left his mind, if he’s being honest. His relationship with A-reum was proof of that, so is the fact that it was your interview that got him out of his self-destructive hole to restart.
But it’s tonight out of all nights, when he pulls out the lone decent-looking jacket he has that he plans to wear to the meeting with the university faculty and sports director - which also happens to be something you got him years ago - that he thinks that maybe there’s a reason why he can’t completely move on from you. He tried and he honestly continues to, but it’s not easy when much of the happiness he remembers has you in it. You show up in his dreams sometimes, too, as if the universe is reminding him that he’s okay now, that he’s at least close to the man he once was and not just a shell of it anymore, and that maybe, you’d want to grab some coffee and see where things go.
It’s what prompts him to look up the details for your upcoming movie premiere so he could go. You worked on it the same time you were filming your series, and even if your name is one of the smallest ones on the poster as a supporting character, he already knows this is incredibly important to you. It’s your first movie, it seems, and he wants to be there to wish you luck and let you know he’s proud of you, and that if this is where your shared heartbreak led you, then he knows there’s no way he’d regret letting you go those years ago.
The woman staring back at you is someone you almost don’t recognize. Other than the glamorous champagne-colored dress that you’re wearing, there’s a smile that you haven’t seen in a long while, too. In over 3 years, to be exact. A heartbreak does that, you suppose. Your biggest supporting role in a series that wrapped up a few months ago felt too surreal for you, and you’d gone through the promotions for that feeling anxious; you barely had time nor energy to appreciate yourself nor the experience.
You do now. After the praises for your performance then and the ones from your colleagues for this, you feel that you at least deserve to smile, that you can truly claim for yourself that you’re on the way to big things, even if you know you’re far from it. You’re the most junior out of the entire cast, after all, and you’re more like a supporting role to the supporting role. You’re in the credits, at least, and you got to act alongside some of the people you look up to once more.
It’s premiere night and that calls for a big event. Jimin, your newly-hired personal assistant slash stylist, knocks on your door to say that the car is ready. You exit your room and drive from your humble apartment to the venue, feeling giddy and nervous.
“Looks like there are lots of fans tonight,” Jimin says from the passenger seat, getting news from his phone. “There’s a long line inside and outside. I heard it’s a packed cinema, too.”
“Well, it’s Song Hye-kyo. What do you expect?” You giggle. “When she’s your lead, there’s bound to be a score of fans. But that’s good for me, right? They’re there for her. I’ll just be fading into the background and no one will even notice.”
“Why would you want that?” Jimin looks at you curiously.
“You know why.”
Your unsure smile informs him of the reason and he understands. It’s gonna be tricky but you decided to not hide anymore starting tonight. You want that freedom, and you want it soon.
“But also, I’m still not used to it,” you continue. “It’s my first movie and I’m just a small part of it but it’s all still new to me. I don’t want people’s attention if it’s me looking overwhelmed, you know?”
“You’re gonna be fine, ___,” Jimin assures you. “You at least still look pretty when you look like that.”
“Hmm, that’s oddly encouraging,” you chuckle, seeing the scores of fans in the lobby before your driver heads straight to the VIP parking.
Jimin opens the door for you and leads you through the entrance. “Blow them away with your beauty, okay? I’ll see you shortly.”
You’re led towards a waiting room for the lesser-known actors, which you don’t mind. The big-name ones have their own and you’ll probably only speak with them during the afterparty later. Right now, you’re talking with your co-stars while getting a retouch of your makeup, and it helps ease your worries a bit. All you need to do is walk out to the red carpet with them and hope that the people at least cheer for you. You can worry about how you fared in the movie later on.
It’s an hour later when it starts. You walk towards the doors that exit to where the hosts and crowd are, already hearing their cheers as you wait. There’s 6 of you and cheers erupt when your names are called. You all walk out and wave at them, definitely overwhelmed by the camera flashes and shrieks of the people but you remain calm and professional, smiling the entire time and greeting them calmly. It’s more than you expected and you’re just happy to be experiencing this for the first time. It’s a moment you definitely won’t forget, and you’re glad you can at least share this with someone right after.
Your group is briefly interviewed before you’re led out to the other side to go back to the waiting room; you’ll all go to the cinema in an hour after all the actors have been introduced and interviewed. You take a detour, though, knowing you can’t really wait any longer. All the fans are inside the hall, waiting for the big stars to come out so the hallway leading to one of the building exits is empty. It’s accessible to the public but you already know that no person in their right mind would be here, so it’s the perfect spot.
You enter and wait only a few minutes before you hear your name being called. Turning around, you see him, and you feel even more excited.
“You looked gorgeous out there,” Min-kyu greets as he hugs you right away.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggle in his ears. “Thank you. Did I stutter?”
“Nope, you sounded great, too,” he chuckles, taking your hand. “I’m really proud of you. I’m happy I get to be here, and that we could decide on this together. I can’t have people linking you with someone else again when I’m right here.”
“You mean when I’m right here,” you tease, seeing as he’s the one always being rumored to be with some model. You place his hands on your waist as you continue. “It won’t be so hard anymore after tonight.”
“Okay. Well then, I don’t want to keep you,” he responds. “Someone might see us. But I’ll sneak in next to you in the cinema, alright?”
“Got it,” you smile giddily. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
You kiss him goodbye and assure him that you’ll see him shortly.
It’s the sound of a door closing that alarms you, breaking you out of your little bubble with the man you’ve been cozying up with for the past 7 months. It’s perhaps your longest relationship, if you could even categorize the previous ones as such. Andrew was a 3-month long fling, Ki-yong was a half-year on-off whatever, and Min-kyu has been the only one so far that you haven’t had any issues with. You’re unsure for how long it’s gonna last, but one reason why you don’t want to keep hiding anymore is because he gets linked to any woman he so much as says hi to. If whoever walked in your little PDA just now decides to do something about it before you do, then the timing wouldn’t be too far apart.
“Do you think someone saw us just now?” You ask.
“If anyone did, we’re too far for them to take any photos,” he reasons. “If they saw anything, there wouldn’t be any proof. But that won’t matter much after tonight, yeah?”
“I guess so,” you smile. “But they’re gone, so let’s go.”
You head out separately after fixing yourself, the giddy feeling from his kiss evaporating once you’re back in your world, knowing you’ll reunite with him again later. It’s a good distraction more than anything, as your mind wanders for a millisecond how it would be like if someone else were here with you, celebrating your first movie together. But that’s not your life anymore. This is. You’d like to think it’s a hundred times better than the one you left behind.
Yoongi stares at the door he’d just walked out of after seeing you in another man’s arms, something he didn’t intend to witness.
He’d seen you walk down the red carpet then proceed to the left, and he’d been too far out to catch up to you. It’s a Song Hye-kyo movie so he knows that everyone’s gonna be waiting for her, and it’s probably why the path towards one of the hallways is empty. He doesn’t know what he was thinking following you, and looking back now, he’s unsure why he thought coming to your movie premiere without you knowing was even a good idea. But after feeling stupidly hopeful that something could come out of him showing up after letting you go, he decided to come, to drive from Daegu, dress up nicely, and be swift enough to go after you before security takes him away.
He does see you. With your arms around a man who makes you laugh and clearly makes you happy. He looks like that actor who’s being rumored with a bunch of different women, but it seems like he’s locked on you. Yoongi could only hope he isn’t cheating on you or anything; that would be worse than what he’s feeling right now, and he’s feeling pretty terrible. And stupid.
Even more as he looks at the bouquet of daisies he’s holding, something that he planned to give to you to celebrate your first movie premiere. It’s probably the plainest flower out there and there are definitely more that would suit you, like dahlias and marigolds and roses - all breathtakingly beautiful and deserving of being at the center of everything just like you are.
But he’d noticed those years ago how your eyes always turned to daisies whenever you entered a flower shop. Anyone would miss it, but Yoongi’s attention is on you a lot of the time, and he’s seen your gaze linger on it, especially as they’re placed as supporting decor to a grand arrangement. He thinks it’s perhaps your way of wishing for a simple life behind all this glamor, and that somewhere in your heart, you desire someone who could give you something just as simple, perhaps someone like him.
It’s why he decided to pass by the fanciest flower shop he could find earlier and get this, so he could tell you that you could achieve whatever it is you dream of, no matter how big or small, how grand or simple. And that no matter how high you go, he’ll always be rooting for you in every way he can.
It doesn’t seem right to still be giving this to you, he thinks, but then again, it’s not like he expected to get back together just because he decided to show up unannounced on what is a big day for you. He won’t deny that he didn’t think about it, though, but he really just wanted to catch up, maybe tell you that you helped him get back on his feet. And that he’s incredibly proud of you, and that he believes you’ll just get better and bigger from here.
But as the scene of you looking happy with another man who could probably give you much more than he ever could replays in his mind, Yoongi is reminded that it’s not his place anymore, that he does not have a place in your life anymore. He made that call when he broke things off, and he doesn’t have the right to ask you for anything else after that. Even if it’s just your time.
So he walks out of the hall and into his car where he stays for a good half hour, trying to figure out what to do. He eventually decides to still give it, without the burden on you knowing it’s from him.
And that’s what he does, as he waits at your agency building lobby the next morning for the reception to clear the flowers. He’d spent the night at a hostel and was close to just throwing it and forgetting this whole thing even happened, but he braved through it until he’s unable to back out now.
“No card?” The man asks.
Yoongi looks at the piece of cardboard that he took out right before he gave the bouquet.
I’m so proud of you, ___. So much time has passed and I’m doing better. I can see that you are, too. I was in the city and thought, for old time’s sake - would you like to grab some coffee?
He slips it in his pocket and answers, “no card. But could you write ___’s name on the envelope?”
The man hums in agreement. “And who do I say this is from?”
“I’d like to remain anonymous.”
The man looks at him warily before he nods and writes your name as the only indicator that it’s for you. No other message and no trace of the sender.
“Okay, all good.”
“Thank you,” Yoongi says, walking out the building to head to his car and drive back to Daegu.
He decides to eat at a nearby convenience store, and that’s when he sees the news that confirms everything he saw last night.
Rumors no more: Actors Kim Min-kyu and ___/___ confirm 7-month relationship.
Yoongi reads the headlines over and over again, the scene from last night haunting him once more. He doesn’t know why he thought that still giving you the flowers, even anonymously, was a good idea, even more now that you’ve been dating this man for longer than he imagined.
You’ve been that happy for 7 months now. It doesn’t seem right to still insert himself like that.
He rushes towards the agency again to try to retrieve the bouquet and take it all back. He’s at the end of the street, a sprint away from the building but then he stops at the sight of you exiting. With the flowers in your arms.
There’s that crinkled smile of yours that he’s missed so much. You’re looking at the daisies with such softness, like you’re truly appreciating it, and Yoongi’s heart melts at the sight. You may not know it’s from him and perhaps that’s the best part, but it’s the thought that you seem to really like it, especially when a blond-haired man stands next to you and hands you a bouquet of roses, which you smell and smile at before returning it to him. You cradle the daisies, shrugging when you try to retrieve a card that isn’t there, and Yoongi’s relieved that of all the stupid things he’s done the past 12 hours, leaving the card out was the smartest thing he did.
A car arrives and you enter, leaving Yoongi still at the end of the street to watch you drive away, perhaps out of his life for good, at least until your next premiere where he’ll probably give you the flowers again.
He hopes that with them, you get to feel the care he has for you that never withered, that on your lowest days, you think of the admirer who believes that your love for daisies is something that matters.
Your car disappears from his sight. He resigns to this next new life without you - the one where you’re happy where you are and he’s trying to be. He’ll admire you from afar until he gets to move on from you completely.
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Landslide (series)
Part Nine
Pairing: Josh x reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: You've lost something in a hiking accident... are you prepared for it to come back?
Warnings: angst.
MASTERPOST
Playlist
An unceremonious toss of a pillow onto your face was your wake-up call the next morning. Adjusting your eyes to the light-filled living room, you looked up, squinting, to find Josh standing over you with his eyebrows furrowed. For a split-second the warm, uncomplicated feeling you’d associated with Josh for so long washed over you. That is, until last night crashed into you like a wave during a hurricane.
“Why’d you let me sleep alone in your bed?” He maintained his stare, his eyes lightening to a deep amber in the golden morning sun.
Clearing your throat a little as you pulled yourself up to sit, you raced to find an excuse as to why you wouldn’t just join him after he’d fallen asleep. “I, uh… was feeling sick.” Terrible work. You studied his face as he took in your answer, the expression that laid on it unchanging.
“Why not just wake me up and kick me out then? You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.” His line of questioning continued, but it was free of any accusatory tone. If you weren’t so guarded, you may have even detected a level of concern.
“You just looked so comfortable.” That, in itself, was not a lie. He had looked very comfortable, curled up on top of your comforter as you uncovered the evidence of his nondisclosure. But you knew you couldn’t go into more detail. You couldn’t tell him how, if you had woken him up last night, you would have unleashed your very own barrage of inquiries, most likely in a tone less forgiving than the one he was adopting for this conversation.
Again, he mulled over your answer, before his expression finally shifted. “Just don’t… Just wake me up next time. I sleep perfectly fine in my own bed too.” He leaned over, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. “And you don’t feel warm.” Shrugging, he turned to the door and grabbed his keys before catching your eyes one last time. “I’ve gotta go to work, try not to get yourself another brain injury while I’m gone.” And with a flash of perfectly white teeth, he was gone, leaving you sitting all alone on the couch.
Waiting for a few minutes after you heard his tires pull out of the driveway and carry his car down the street, you finally mustered the courage to pick yourself up off the couch and walk to the place you knew your answers would be. Going straight to the far corner of your bedroom, you reached up as high as you could and felt around the top of your hanging planter, until your fingertips found purchase on a smooth wooden surface.
Careful to not pull the whole thing down from your ceiling, you picked up a rough little box and put your feet flat on the floor again. Swallowing, you sat yourself on the hardwood, needing to be as close to the ground as possible at this moment. Taking as much time as you could bare, you held the tiny receptacle in your palms, staring at the grain pattern for more than a few seconds as you prepared yourself for what you imagined was in there.
You set the container down in front of you before slowly pulling the lid up by the sides. Piled inside were dozens of little sticky notes, all scrawled on with Josh’s quick handwriting. Taking the first one between your fingers, you brought it closer to read. “Call me!” Not bad. You shuffled through a few more harmless pieces of paper before a new one caught your eye.
“You have my heart”. Shit. There’s no way, right? Fighting the urge to just snap the lid shut before you completely left the realm of blissfully unaware, you pressed on, grabbing the next note. They only increased in flirtiness and insinuation, until you picked the last one up.
Shivers ran down your spine as you read, confusion pounding against your skull as the ink seemed to leap off the paper at you. “Already miss how you taste” was all that was written, but the implication of it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Letting it slip from your fingers, the little note fluttered to the floor, joining the rest of them as you tried to stop the spinning in your head.
The sight of the colorful slips of paper scattered around you was enough to make you feel like you were losing your mind. And as much as you almost wished that were true, you also knew that you had to have collected these notes for a reason. They were tucked away safe and out of sight, in a place that clearly only you knew of.
In that moment, that pressing desire you had, to recall the start of your summer, became unbearable. You tucked into yourself, the weight of the situation coming down on you as your knees came up to your chest. Frustration came to a boil inside of you, forcing tears out of your eyes as you felt your cheeks get hot. Unable to even attempt wrapping your mind around the situation you found yourself in, you let yourself cry, closing your eyes as you stayed curled up on the floor, surrounded by the proof you had walked in on Josh trying to find right after you’d gotten back from the hospital. Notes that clearly meant just as much to him as they apparently had to you.
Nothing seemed to feel real until the click of the front door closing snapped you back to reality. Shuffling the notes back into a messy stack, you shoved them back into their box before placing it back in the planter, out of sight. Cautiously, you opened your bedroom door, watching with wide eyes as a boy so similar to Josh, yet so strikingly different, made his way into your kitchen.
After a few long seconds, taken to dry your face and make a poor attempt at cooling it off, you emerged into the main space. Stepping lightly, you approached him, studying him as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and stood in front of the sink, filling it with water. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, you spoke up.
“Jake?”
In a flash of dark brown and denim, you were wrapped in his arms. A wave of relief washed over you as he held you close, the warmth of his embrace radiating all around as you relaxed for the first time since you’d woken up. You sniffled a little, a byproduct of the tearful event that had just occurred, and he pulled away, looking at your face for the first time in months. Remembering the same excuse you had given Josh, you offered him an explanation for the stuffy nose, “I think I’m coming down with something.”
He scanned over your features before the edges of his lips curled up, giving you one of those soft smiles that you had always associated with him. “And here I was thinking you were getting emotional over me coming to visit.” You were happy to see Jake. Happy enough to get teary-eyed, truly, if your discoveries hadn’t just about tapped you out.
“If I cried every time you came to visit your brother, it wouldn’t be as special, would it?” In all honesty, you probably would have let a tear or two slip past if this were any other day. Jake had always been special to you, in a way that really only the two of you could understand.
Given the position of you two being Josh’s best friend and twin brother, respectively, there was plenty of venting to be done through the years. And while you were typically at the Kiszka household to visit Josh, you would never be disappointed if his twin met you at the door instead. If you ever needed some time to just relax, you could always visit Jake in the garage and listen to him pluck at his acoustic until he formed a new riff. Although there was never really any pressure from Josh to be anything more than yourself, the feelings you had for him always kept you on the tiniest edge. But there was never a stress like that when it came to Jake. Over the years, he had become a friend that you had grown to always need.
“You know I’m never here to visit only my brother, sunshine.” The feeling of his hands on your shoulders was a comfort too rare nowadays, the nickname washing over you like a warm wind. His eyes flicked across you, not catching on any of your bruises, like you’d almost expected. “Looking good for someone that almost let a couple rocks kill ‘em.” Of course. Unlike Josh, a moment between you and Jake could never be too sweet for too long.
You laughed, pushing away from him and pulling a glass from the cupboard for yourself. “It was a landslide, Jake. More than a couple rocks.” Following his lead, you filled it with some water, already feeling your need to rehydrate.
“Yeah, yeah.” Looking at him again, you noted how his smile had changed into one of his big grins. You pushed his shoulder gently before walking to the kitchen table and pulling a chair out to sit in.
Following suit, he joined you at the table, rotating his glass around his fingertips. “So, Josh give you any warning at all about us coming to visit?” His voice held a certain warmth this morning, lulling you into nearly ignoring a certain word he had chosen to use.
“Us? Don’t tell me…” Your eyes shot up to meet his, eyebrows immediately furrowing.
“Shit, he really didn’t tell you anything. Sam’s at the studio with him right now, doing what little brothers do best.” At least he wasn’t here. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, you loved Sam. He was just more inclined to ask questions and make invasive observations than Jake, and you found yourself thanking the stars that he wasn’t here to witness and analyze your weak excuse for your puffy eyes. “At least they said they’d come home with dinner.”
You knew his eyes were on you, and as hard as you tried to keep up your unbothered demeanor, you also knew that Jake was always able to see straight through you. Thankfully, he didn’t take it as an opportunity to pry. You had to count your blessings, he never really did.
“Everyone else stayed home for the summer, work and internships and whatever nonsense they have. Nothing as exciting as coming to this place for a few days.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, pulling a small smile from you. Good enough for him.
It was always a gift to have Jake in a rambling mood. People would never know it when they saw him next to his twin, but he could talk just as much. On a good day, you could get him spiraling through topics every few minutes, keeping you happily entertained for hours.
“I mean, having you to visit in the middle of all the bullshit I’m dealing with with the band? Fucking saving me, you don’t even know.” Huffing a laugh and rolling his eyes, he took a moment to look around your kitchen. It wasn’t hard to see, after all of these years, that there was some sort of storm rumbling under his cool exterior.
“The band?” Your head tilted as you asked the question, your eyes not leaving his face as his caught on the little brass wall hanging in the shape of the sun that hung right above your head. He bit on the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his words.
Finally his thoughts solidified, but his eyes didn’t leave the metal sun. “When Josh moved out here, I had to scrap the whole band thing we had going.” His voice was heavier, almost like he was still mourning the loss of his twin. “Without Josh’s voice, every song was just kind of fucked… had to restart.”
Bringing his hand up to his face, he started playing with his bottom lip, running his fingers along the edge of it before pulling it a little. You knew there had to be a thousand things rushing through his head, though you’d never actually considered what coming to visit must do to him.
The move was hard for both of them, but especially so for Jake. To have a support system was one thing, but to have someone by your side for quite literally your entire life? It was a gift he hadn’t understood the true value of until it accepted an admission offer from across the country and tore his best friend away from him. His best friends.
“It’s interesting,” he seemed to snap out of his thoughts, “I never imagined my playing could sound like it does now.”
A laugh bubbled up from your chest as your eyes focused back on his. “Yeah, I guess studying for a music degree tends to enhance your skills.” There it was. That smile was back.
“If you say so, sunshine.” He tipped his glass back and forth on the table, watching the water inside lap against the sides as he formulated a new query. “Do you really remember everything?”
“Mostly.” You offered him a shrug as you sipped on your own drink. “The beginning of the summer is a little fuzzy, but it’s not like you were visiting then. At least not that I’m aware of.”
Letting out a little chuckle, he set his glass down flat and started to drum his fingertips on the tabletop. “Ah.”
“Ah?” An abrupt response wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, or what you were looking for.
“Just, uh, I was gonna offer to fill in some gaps, but you sound set.” His eyes went down to his tapping fingers after he spoke, the repetitive motion filling the silence with a dull noise.
“That all?” Your foot taps against his leg under the table, pulling his attention back to you.
“Yeah, yeah.” Another soft laugh falls from the small smile that had found its way back to his lips. “Was hoping for your sake that you’d lost your memory of all those films Josh makes you rewatch. Make it feel like you were seeing them for the first time instead of the hundredth.”
A louder laugh comes from you, widening his grin. “At least they’re good. God forbid he had taste like yours.”
“Hey! In no world does A Clockwork Orange have better rewatch value than anything I’ve ever shown you.” Just like that, falling back into your routine, you and Jake laughed with each other for hours, up until the moment you heard the key turn in the front door’s lock. Up until that tiny click pulled you away from it, you’d been having possibly the most restorative day yet since you were released from the hospital.
Hearing the same thing as you, Jake rose from his seat, meeting his brothers at the door as it swung open. Pizza boxes in tow, Josh waltzed into the kitchen, tapping your head lightly as he breezed by you. Making as much of an effort as you could with the memory of that morning hitting you, you rose to meet Sam, letting him wrap his long arms around your shoulders.
“This asshole popped up behind me as I was trying to frame a scene this morning.” Josh shouted over his shoulder as he pulled plates from a cupboard. “I can’t imagine Jake’s entrance here was any less nightmare-inducing.”
Just like that, a war was instantly waged in your mind. You could respond, acting like nothing had happened, or you could not, leaving him hanging at the risk of sending this entire evening, possibly even Jake and Sam’s entire trip, to absolute disaster.
Luckily, a choice was made for you as Jake defended himself, “All I did was help myself to some water after my journey!”
“You make it sound like you walked here from Michigan.” You quipped back, pulling paper towels off the roll and setting them on the kitchen table next to the boxes.
As much as you wanted to run from this situation, to go lock yourself in your room, you knew that the younger brothers didn’t deserve that. You knew that showing up at an inopportune time shouldn’t sentence them to a week of silence and domestic warfare. Accordingly, you pulled it together, trying not to make a point of only responding to the two of them. As much as they had a right to a friendly visit, Josh had forfeited his right to your conversation.
So for the first time in what very well could have been your entire adult life, you sat through a dinner without so much as stealing a glance at Josh. You almost made it through unscathed, the clamor of laughter and shouting covering your pointed silence. Almost.
“I need to know where the hell I’m sleeping, because the floor didn’t exactly agree with me last time.” Jake’s words crashed into you like a freight train, the weight of them immediately sobering you to the reality of the closing night.
“Well I’m not taking the floor either.” Sam piped up, sealing your fate.
You could feel his eyes on you before a single sound escaped his mouth, confirming what was about to happen. “We could always just sleep in your bed. They can argue over the couch and mine. I’m not really worried about getting sick.” For the first time that night, you looked at Josh. It was almost painful, the way the warm kitchen lighting deepened the color of his eyes, inviting you in like a siren on a stormy night. He shot you a wink, the edges of his lips curling up.
“I don’t think so, I really don’t feel well. Why can’t one of them take the couch in your room? Then no one has to sleep on the floor.” Your eyes didn’t leave his, even as Sam started speaking again. Like it was a game. Like he was daring you to look away, to get flustered, to give in.
“I’m not sleeping in the same room as either of them, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with the way they snore.” That earned him an elbow from Jake, leaving the two of them to bicker.
“C’mon,” Josh just had to keep pressing you. To him, this was how it was meant to be. To him, you had no idea. To him, your condition was some sort of miraculous second chance at whatever game he was playing. “It's not like it’s new for us. Jake can take my bed, Sam’ll sleep out here. Seems like everyone wins.”
That was as much as you could take. Because you couldn’t let him win. Not when you were losing as badly as this. “No.” It came out harsher than you would have liked, but drove the point home quicker than anything else you could have said. Knowing the look on his face had the ability to break your resolve, you went back to avoiding interaction with him.
Not giving them time to get up or say anything about your response, you gave Jake and Sam quick hugs before turning and walking straight back to your bedroom, swinging the door fully shut behind you.
As you got ready for bed, you could hear the shocked silence slowly turn into quiet bickering, no doubt over who got to sleep away from the others. You let the darkness of your room wash over you as you collected yourself, speechlessly praising yourself for staying firm on your decided course. Eventually, as you laid in bed scrolling through every app that offered some sort of distraction, the conversation died down to nothing as they found their spots for the night.
Texts from the twins rolled in during the silence, both asking what was wrong, Jake offering an open ear. As much as your mind was begging to be unburdened, you knew you couldn’t. Not now. So while you drifted off to sleep alone, a million thoughts ran through your head, each one of them focused on the boy who lived in the next room over.
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Come Together
Three
"Look at you just flourishing. My beautiful babies," Nayeli cooed affectionately at her broccoli, celery and carrot planter boxes, trimming away what needed to be cleaned up and pressing her fingers into the soil as she spoke love and positive affirmations over her vegetables.
The potatoes were next, nearly ready for harvest, and considering it was her first year planting them, she couldn't help but be overly excited to see, feel, and eat what she grew. Her green thumb arrived at a young age thanks to her paternal grandparents.
They owned a nursery, a floral business, and a community garden. Time with them was spent in the dirt, learning which plants liked what, what needed more or less sunlight. She learned enough for her to be able to grow just about anything she touched.
The yard wasn't very big, but she made do with the space she had. Her small concrete patio held a love seat and two matching chairs that surrounded a square, stone fire pit and faced the garden. An avocado tree stood tall in the far left corner, providing shade to a swing. Six rectangular planter boxes were arranged in twos just in front of a blossoming pomegranate tree. The right side of the yard was flanked by orange, lemon, lime and kumquat trees. Her second happy place.
A notification from the Ring app popped up on her phone, and she watched a UPS driver leave a large box on her porch. Not anticipating a delivery, she got up to bring it inside. Jalen's name was on the sticker, so she left it by the front door for him to open when he got home from the sports bar with his friends.
She relished in the time away from him. For the last week, tensions ran high in their home. Nayeli was tired of his piss poor attitude, and he was annoyed because she refused to see things from his point of view. They couldn't be in the same room for more than ten minutes without butting heads about something.
It weighed heavily on her heart. The first three years of their relationship, they never argued. Disagreed, yes. Every couple had disagreements, but they were always gentle with each other, from words to physical contact. Not anymore.
Harsh sentences flew from their lips, and it broke Nayeli's heart that they'd reached that point. It was unlike her, which made her think the relationship was running its course. They were obviously no longer on the same page, and she wanted nothing more than for them to return to normal.
Six years of her life were spent nurturing the bond she once thought would carry her through the end of time. She thought she'd found her person, the other half of her soul. Time was proving her wrong. Or maybe they were just in a rut.
She didn't want to see them end. She never loved anyone as much as she loved Jalen. Her heart tore in her chest at the thought of separating.
"Nye," an unenthused voice spoke from inside the house. She momentarily craned her neck to look through the sliding glass door, her mood dampening further when Jalen stepped out onto the patio frowning.
"Hi," she answered softly and directed her attention back to the garden. Finished watering and weeding, she tugged the gardening gloves off of her hands and took them to the basket that held the rest of her tools, "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah."
"Good." She tried to walk past him to put more than a few feet of space between them, but he reached for her elbow, halting her steps, "I do not feel like arguing with you right now. Please let me go."
"I think we should talk."
"That hasn't gone well for us, so I'm going to pass for the time being." It was getting them nowhere, and she didn't think they could survive another blowup. She wanted to hold onto the good memories of them for as long as she could. Pulling out of his grip, she continued her walk into the house with him following behind her, "Jalen, I'm serious. I'm not in the right headspace to have a conversation with you."
Tears were filling her eyes fast, and crying in front of him wouldn't garner her any sympathy. She could have snot dripping from her nose. He would remain unmoved. Aside from expressing irritation, excitement, or the occasional shock, he was the least emotional person she knew, the total opposite of her. It was what balanced them out, but the lack of emotional fulfillment was getting to her.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, reaching for her arm again.
"Why, exactly?" She didn't believe the moment was genuine. She felt that he was apologizing simply to say he was the bigger person in the situation. He owed her an apology for many reasons, but she was losing faith that he cared. That hurt worse than anything else, realizing she wasn't nearly as important to him as he was to her.
"How I've acted the last few days."
"It's been more than a few days."
"I know," he sighed and dropped his head, rubbing his eyebrows before he slipped the fingers of both hands through hers. "I'm stressed, and I've been taking it out on you. It's not fair. I'm sorry."
She waited, hoping that he would say more, praying that he would show even a little bit of sincerity, but his mud brown eyes were hollow and unfeeling. The hot tears that had been building slid down her cheeks the second she blinked, and she inhaled hard, taking her hands out of his to wipe her face.
"Thanks. I'm gonna go for a drive." Snatching her keys from the bowl by the front door, she sprinted to the driveway and jumped into her car. She peeled out so fast she nearly hit the trashcans and recycle bin Jalen set out that morning, tires squeaking as she turned her steering wheel and sped out of her neighborhood.
The further away from him she got, the better she would feel. Or so she thought. She drove to her favorite park and left her car in the lot. It was empty, like most days. The equipment was older, nets hanging from basketball hoops either ripped or gone entirely, sharp rocks and old wrappers littering the sand around the jungle gym and monkey bars. It was all in need of a little TLC, and until that happened, people would opt out of visiting. Nayeli didn't mind.
She headed straight for the swing set she grew up jumping off of. The chains were creaky and rusted, sky blue plastic seat cracked near the metal it was suspended from. Kicking wood chips with the tip of her shoe, she allowed herself to sob as she wondered where she went wrong.
Moving in together without more of a commitment? Allowing Jalen to carry on as if he were her husband without knowing for sure if he wanted to be? He claimed to want marriage during their early days. He said he wanted everything she wanted. They'd picked names, decided what order they wanted to have their four sons and daughters in, where in the city they would move so the kids could go to the best schools.
There were plenty of conversations, and she thought that eventually everything would happen as it should've. It was naïve of her to think that way, naïve of her to wait six years for something that could possibly never happen.
For over an hour, she sat on that swing, kicking wood chips and crying because she wanted to be wrong. She still had hope that one day Jalen would propose, that they would spend the rest of their lives making each other happy. That was all she wanted.
☼☼☼
Time slowed considerably, displeasing Nayeli further along with her current state of affairs. Days were never ending, dragging on until thinking became close to unbearable. Nights were silent and lonely. The space between her and Jalen continued to grow.
No cuddling. No affection. Simple sentences. She had a roommate, not a boyfriend.
Sitting at the table in the back of the bakery, she picked at a turkey and mozzarella panini while attempting to enjoy her lunch break. Most of the tables around her were full, and the door continuously swung open to let the next patron in. People watching became a good distraction until the chair across from her scraped against the floor. Her eyes flickered to the other side of her table, and a genuine smile graced her face.
"Proper etiquette would be to ask before you just invite yourself to someone's table," she teased, sitting up a little straighter and toying with the curl in front of her left ear.
"Forgive my deplorable manners. Is anybody sitting here?" Ezra asked and returned her smile. He'd been hoping to run into her, even dropped by a couple of times, but they always seemed to miss each other. God smiled on him that day.
"You are now. All yours in a minute. It's almost time for me to get back to work. How's the princess?"
"She's good. I have to pick her up from school in a couple of hours. Can the boss extend her break for a while?"
"I can make an exception if I have a good reason," Nayeli said, setting her chin in her palm.
Ezra sat quietly, admiring her face for several long seconds before it registered that she was waiting for a response. A folded piece of paper sat in the pocket of his jacket. He pulled it out and handed it to her, "I have that list you asked for."
"You could've emailed it to me." She took the paper square and opened it into a full sheet, scanning the short list of two people with food allergies and the final dessert choices.
"I thought it would be better to hand deliver it."
"Admit it, you just wanted to see me."
"I did."
Nayeli's eyes widened and watered as saliva slid down the wrong pipe, and she coughed, not expecting his answer.
"What?"
"I wanted to see you," he told her.
"Oh, I was....kidding. And so are you," she replied when she saw him chuckling. He was just yanking her chain.
"I wasn't, actually, but you're cute when you're nervous." His dimples made her comfortable, but the whole moment was slightly unnerving. Out of all the people she met in her lifetime, he was the easiest to talk to. A complete stranger.
"Thank you." She felt a weird bit of excitement in his presence, an itch to know him deeper, "Why did you want to see me?"
"Would you think I was crazy if I said I feel like we've met before?" he asked, eyes turning nervous as they searched hers.
"No. Small world and all that. Maybe we have met before, in this life or a previous one."
"You believe in reincarnation?"
"Strangely, yes."
"Why is it strange?"
"I'm sure you don't meet a lot of Catholics that do."
"I can't say I have. It goes against the religion."
"Yes, but to be honest, I find it all fascinating. Though there are differences throughout, some large, some small, the fundamental teachings are really all the same. Do unto others as you would have them do onto you. Discern right from wrong. Live everyday as your best self and strive to be better. I was raised Catholic and attend church regularly, but I don't view one religion above another. We're all doing what we're taught or what brings us peace," she explained, momentarily biting her tongue when Ezra tilted his head in curiosity. He was listening intently, which made her feel safe enough to continue, "Sorry. I don't mean to ramble. I took a couple of courses in college, read some books, and I think no matter what angle you come at it, there are always going to be things to disagree with, things we don't like or understand. Things we would prefer to believe, but what is the truth? We don't know, and that's okay. We're supposed to question it all. "Faith and doubt go hand in hand. They are complementaries. One who never doubts never truly believes"."
"Hermann Hesse."
She didn't expect him to know who the quote was by. They shared another smile, and she became even more curious about him. The rest of the world knew "EJ". She wanted to know Ezra.
"Exactly. I think we got a little off topic, though. You said you feel like we've met before." Steering the conversation back to its original direction, she began to flip through her memories, hoping to catch something that would provide insight.
"Yes."
"Do you feel like it might've been recent? Within the last five years?"
"I don't know, but when I saw you for the first time, it didn't feel like the first time." He didn't want to tell her that he dreamt about her. He knew for sure that would freak her out, but there was an odd connection between them that he wanted to explore.
It confused him. Why did he dream about her? Were the dreams a message? Why did it feel like they'd been acquainted for years?
"I thought you looked at me like you knew me," Nayeli said, studying his face and trying to trigger a memory. She kept coming up blank.
"Do I seem familiar to you?"
"At certain moments, you do. Maybe we should visit a hypnotist and dig into our pasts." There was success in the process. She knew a few people who swore by hypnotherapy, but she made the suggestion as a joke.
"Hypnosis is a scam," Ezra said firmly causing her to laugh at the stern look on his face.
"I don't know about a scam. You could argue a placebo effect. It works on people that want it to work and believe it will."
"It's a scam."
"Everyone is entitled to an opinion." Her giggling quieted down and she scanned the space periodically to make sure she wasn't needed, "Are you from Briton Beach? It's possible we've seen each other around. I've spent most of my life here."
"No, I'm from Inglewood. I've been here for about a year."
"Hm. Then I can't imagine where we would've met."
"It's a good thing we did." Reaching across the table, he put his hand over hers. His palm was warm and rough, hands she expected from a man that squabbled for a living.
"Hey."
Nayeli and Ezra looked up at the person interrupting their conversation, and she felt her face heat just before she became lightheaded.
"Jalen, hey. What are you doing here?" She blinked a few times and swallowed to help cure the dryness in her mouth.
"I thought I'd surprise you and take you out for lunch, but I see you already ate."
Palpable tension built between the three of them, walls metaphorically closing in and making her feel suffocated. Jalen glanced at her half eaten sandwich and then at Ezra before looking at Nayeli.
"Thank you. That's sweet, but you've never surprised me at work before. You should've called," she said.
"Why? Am I interrupting something?"
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THE REALITY OF WORLD HUNGER IN 20 YEARS' TIME
INNOVATIONS IN AGRICULTURE: WHAT THE BILL AND MELINDA GATES FOUNDATION HAVE BEEN INITIATING ALONG WITH R.I.P.E. PROJECT MANAGER, STEPHEN LONG.
THE STATS
☆ The UN's Food and Agriculture Organization says 70% more food will be needed by 2050.
THE 1ST GREEN REVOLUTION
☆ In the mid-twentieth-century, when many parts of the world where nearly starving, the Green Revolution prevented this and 1 billion lives were spared.
☆ This was achieved through irrigation, hybridized seeds and man-made fertilizers and pesticides from industrialized countries, sent to the third world.
THE R.I.P.E. PROJECT
☆ The R.IP.E project is initiating what it hopes will become a revival: egging a twenty-first-century Green Revolution on by genetically engineering crop plant seeds, in order for crop plants to photosynthesize more efficiently.
INEFFICIENT PHOTOSYNTHESIS RATES IN CROP PLANTS AND THE LACK OF DARK GREEN LEAF MATERIAL - THE GAUGE, DETERMINING CHLOROPHYLL CONTENT.
☆ In crop plants, phototosynthesis has been found to be in short supply - with farmers using weak parent plant genes in seeds for the new season's sowing - due to a gap in the evolution of crop plants; as the plants adapt to surrounding plants, bugs ,birds and small animals; ensuring a win over their competitors for sun, water and nutrient-rich and oxygenated soil - photosynthesis necessities and biodiversity fundamentals.
DYNAMIC CONTACT - A TERM USED IN CORPORATE MARKETING
DYNAMIC INTERACTION - The special, symbiotic, beneficial or parasitic relationship between an ecosystem's species, that egg on adaptations in a particular species.
☆ Crop plants are not in the same Dynamic Contact with organisms as eco-system regulars because all and any plants that happen to sprout near or on a crop site are usually uprooted or are treated with herbicides. This is in an effort to keep all available natural resources for the crop plant to make use of alone. Also, due to pesticides/insecticides, crop plants have very little Dynamic Contact with insects, very necessary for the crop plants evolutionary adaptations, as insects teach crop plants how to protect their yield and other functions like maximizing the surface area in the sun but they also pollinate - yes! pollinate! - crop plants.
I think in recent years, it seems, insects have all but died out. No glow-worms, earthworms, dung beetles, fireflies, silkworm and so on. My theory is that we can thank our farm food crop pickers and planters as the pollen would probably get stuck between fingerprint ridges and that is what has been fertilizing many plants.
TIRED SOIL - DEVOID OF NUTRIENTS AS CHEMICAL FERTILIZERS LEAVE BEHIND NITRATE CRYSTALS (300X MORE TOXIC THAN CO2) AND THEIR PRESENCE ALSO KILLS OFF EARTHWORMS - NECESSARY TO OXYGENATE TOPSOIL AND BIO- DEGRADE ORGANIC MATERIALS LEAVING BEHIND NUTRIENTS.
☆ Also, crop plants are usually planted, crop upon crop, year after year, draining the soil of necessary nutrients needed to facilitate photosynthesis.
Agapanthus leaves, showing the high concentration of chlorophyll, visible through the dark green pigmentation of the leaves.
EVOLUTION WOULD INADVERTENTLYKILL OFF LONE CROP PLANTS.
☆ Evolution's natural selection would focus on survival and reproduction and therefore would focus on pollination. So in theory, for example, the plant would adapt by producing a concentrated but light and maybe sticky, pollen, easily detached by bee legs and snout, thereby maximizing the survival of the crop plant by trying to accelerate population growth rate.
25% MORE CARBON DIOXIDE IN OUR ATMOSPHERE IN THE LAST 50 YEARS. CARBON BASINS, IN THE FORM OF ICEBERGS, FORESTS AND SEA AND RIVERBEDS ARE IMPERITIVE FOR EXCESS CARBON TO BE ABSORBED. REFORESTATION PROJECTS WILL ABSORB THIS INCREASE IN CARBON DIOXIDE.
☆ In the last 50 years, a major molecule needed in photosynthesis - carbon dioxide - has increased in our atmosphere, by 25%.
☆ The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has funded the genetic engineering of crop seeds in order to increase food production, globally.
The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation logo
☆ In the tobacco plant leaf there is a stoma which enables gaseous exchange which, during a drought, would retain water. Hoping that the gene responsible for the tobacco plant's stoma function could be implanted in the crop plant and assist to shed heat energy, emanating from a moistureless, evaporated surface and topsoil and atmosphere quicker, genetic engineers have attempted to isolate the gene responsible for the tobacco plant's stoma and insert it into crop plants.
☆ After genetic engineers at R.I.P.E. transferred genes from the Thale Cress plant - three variants thereof - they had crop yields that were increased by 30%, 19.5% and 20%.
Thale Cress
GENETICALLY ENGINEERED THALE CRESS IS A WATERWISE G.M. PLANT.
☆ The same amount of water was used for genetically engineered plants, compared to the parent plant that had not been modified yet, and only 1% more nitrogen was used by the GM Thale Cress.
WE CAN CONCLUDE THAT INDOOR FOOD GROWING WOULD NOT BE TAXING ON AVAILABLE WATER SUPPLY.
☆ Photosynthesis is a complex procedure which requires over 160 discrete steps. The program used for dreaming up potential combinations of genetic engineering - taking one species useful characteristics and then inserting the gene responsible and inserting it into another species lacking that particular function - has been attempting billions of manipulations, mathematically and in a Latin kind of way, depending on what is possible and hopefully solutions will be made commercially available soon.
My personal opinion is that in order to reduce heat energy in the atmosphere, we need to:
1. Blow up rock formations. Use smaller paving tiles and bricks etc. and use an organic or non heat conductive grout in between.
2. Stop using chemical fertillizer altogether, as the Nitrate crystals left behind are also big conductors of heat. It also kills off earthworms, who cool the soil with their oxygen by-product.
3. Use the gene that generate the leaves of the Agapanthus or the Arum Lily. In addition, if the Arum lily rhyzome root system gene can be implanted in the crop plant; the seed then mixed with a tree that produces a lot of shade but mottled shade (maybe making mini trees the same height as the crop plant) and establishes it's roots deeper down in the soil than the crop plant and then, lastly, the stuff on the ends of those backscrubbers from Zimbabwe; I think it's called whittles; if those 3 species could be joined to the crop plant seed (a 4-in-1 kind of seed) we would have some shade, bio-diversity and the rhyzome "creeper" root that sprouts the plant in a planter's ROW, saving space inbetween; maximizing yield and covering bare earth. The whittles will act as a filter between the sun and moisture in the topsoil as well as act as a carbon basin foundation.
The farmer would also never have to pull out harvest plant leftovers or burn the field as the root system would make the crop plant an evergreen plant, meaning it would not have to be sowed and cut down - only the harvest fruits removed; which would/could produce food all year, potentially.
Source -
The Plant Whisperer pg.62 Interesting Magazine 46/2019
#world_hunger#Green_Revolution#Bill_and_Melinda_Gates_Foundation#R.I.P.E.#The_Ripe_Project#Stephen_Long#Crop_Seeds#Crop_Seed_Engineering#photosynthesis#evolutionary_lagging_in_crop_plants#Africulture#agriculture#food_growing#climate_change#deforestation#REFORESTATION
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Affordable Ways to Create a Beautiful Custom Garden
Creating a beautiful custom garden doesn't have to break the bank. With a bit of creativity, strategic planning, and smart choices, you can design a garden that not only enhances your home's aesthetic appeal but also serves as a tranquil retreat. Whether you're working with a small space or have a large area to transform, these affordable tips will help you bring your dream garden to life without overspending.
1. Start with a Plan: Sketching Your Garden Layout
Before diving into purchasing plants and materials, take time to plan your garden layout. Sketching out a design can help you visualize the space and make informed decisions about what you need. Consider the following:
Assess Your Space: Measure your garden area and consider factors like sunlight, shade, and soil quality. Understanding these elements will guide your plant selection and placement.
Set Priorities: Decide on the focal points of your garden. Whether it's a flower bed, vegetable patch, or a cozy seating area, knowing your priorities will help you allocate your budget effectively.
Incorporate Pathways: Paths can guide visitors through your garden and create a sense of order. Use affordable materials like gravel, mulch, or stepping stones to create attractive pathways.
By starting with a clear plan, you'll avoid unnecessary purchases and ensure that every dollar spent contributes to your overall vision.
2. Choose Low-Cost Plants: Go for Perennials and Seedlings
One of the most significant expenses in gardening is the cost of plants. However, there are several strategies to keep plant costs down:
Opt for Perennials: Perennial plants come back year after year, offering more value for your money compared to annuals, which only last one season. Examples of hardy perennials include lavender, hostas, and daylilies.
Start from Seeds or Seedlings: Buying mature plants can be expensive. Instead, start your garden from seeds or small seedlings. While they take longer to grow, they are far more affordable and allow you to grow a wider variety of plants.
Divide and Conquer: If you already have some plants in your garden, consider dividing them. Plants like hostas, irises, and daylilies can be split into several smaller plants, which you can then spread throughout your garden.
Choosing budget-friendly plants that thrive in your climate and soil conditions will save you money in the long run and ensure a lush, vibrant custom garden.
3. DIY Garden Décor: Recycle, Upcycle, and Create
Garden décor can add personality and charm to your outdoor space, but it doesn't have to be expensive. Here are some creative DIY ideas:
Use Recycled Materials: Old pallets, wine bottles, and even broken pots can be repurposed into garden décor. For example, pallets can be turned into vertical gardens, and wine bottles can be used to create edging or even a water feature.
Painted Rocks: Collect rocks from your yard or nearby areas and paint them to create colorful accents or garden markers. This simple project can add a splash of color and help identify different plants.
Homemade Planters: Use everyday items like old tires, buckets, or even shoes as unique planters. A coat of paint or some artistic touches can transform these items into charming garden features.
Not only does DIY décor save money, but it also adds a personal touch to your garden, making it uniquely yours.
4. Mulching on a Budget: Natural and Cost-Effective Options
Mulching is essential for retaining moisture, suppressing weeds, and improving the appearance of your garden. Instead of purchasing expensive mulch, consider these cost-effective alternatives:
Grass Clippings: After mowing your lawn, use the grass clippings as mulch. They decompose quickly, adding nutrients to the soil while keeping it moist.
Leaf Mulch: Collect fallen leaves in the autumn and shred them to create leaf mulch. This organic mulch is excellent for flower beds and vegetable gardens.
Wood Chips from Tree Services: Many tree removal companies give away wood chips for free. Contact local services to see if they have any available. Wood chips provide long-lasting mulch that looks great in garden beds and around trees.
These natural mulching options are not only affordable but also environmentally friendly, helping you maintain a healthy garden ecosystem.
5. Watering Wisely: Efficient and Cost-Saving Methods
Watering your garden can become costly, especially during dry spells. Implementing water-efficient practices will help you save both water and money:
Collect Rainwater: Set up a rain barrel to collect rainwater from your roof. This free water source can be used to irrigate your garden, reducing your reliance on tap water.
Drip Irrigation: Invest in a drip irrigation system or create your own using a soaker hose. Drip irrigation delivers water directly to the plant roots, minimizing water waste and ensuring that your plants get the moisture they need.
Watering Schedule: Water your garden early in the morning or late in the evening to reduce evaporation. Also, focus on deep watering, which encourages plants to develop deep root systems and become more drought-resistant.
By adopting these watering strategies, you can keep your garden hydrated without driving up your water bill.
6. Composting: Turn Kitchen Scraps into Garden Gold
Composting is an excellent way to create nutrient-rich soil for your garden while reducing household waste. Here’s how to get started:
Set Up a Compost Bin: You can purchase a compost bin or make one yourself using wood pallets or wire mesh. Place the bin in a shady spot in your garden.
Add the Right Ingredients: Compostable materials include fruit and vegetable scraps, coffee grounds, eggshells, grass clippings, and leaves. Avoid adding meat, dairy, or oily foods, as they can attract pests.
Turn the Compost: Regularly turn your compost pile to aerate it and speed up the decomposition process. In a few months, you’ll have rich, dark compost to add to your garden beds.
Using compost in your garden improves soil structure, adds essential nutrients, and helps retain moisture, all of which contribute to healthier, more vibrant plants.
7. Edible Landscaping: Grow Your Own Food
Why not create a garden that’s both beautiful and functional? Edible landscaping allows you to grow your own food while enhancing the aesthetics of your outdoor space:
Incorporate Vegetables and Herbs: Plant vegetables like tomatoes, peppers, and lettuce alongside flowers in your garden beds. Herbs like basil, rosemary, and thyme are not only useful in the kitchen but also add fragrance and texture to your garden.
Fruit Trees and Bushes: Dwarf fruit trees and berry bushes can be integrated into your garden design. They provide seasonal color with their blossoms and offer the added benefit of fresh fruit.
Vertical Gardening: Use trellises and other vertical structures to grow climbing plants like beans, peas, and cucumbers. This technique saves space and adds visual interest to your garden.
Edible landscaping is a cost-effective way to enjoy fresh produce while creating a stunning garden that’s both practical and attractive.
8. Affordable Garden Furniture: Comfortable and Stylish
Creating a relaxing garden space where you can unwind is essential, but garden furniture can be pricey. Here are some budget-friendly options:
DIY Furniture: Build your own garden furniture using reclaimed wood, pallets, or even cinder blocks. With a little creativity, you can make sturdy, attractive pieces at a fraction of the cost of store-bought furniture.
Second-Hand Finds: Check out garage sales, thrift stores, and online marketplaces for affordable garden furniture. With a bit of refurbishing, you can transform these finds into charming pieces for your garden.
Upcycled Cushions and Throws: Add comfort to your seating with cushions and throws. Instead of buying new, consider upcycling old indoor cushions or making your own covers using outdoor fabric.
Affordable garden furniture allows you to create a comfortable outdoor living space without stretching your budget.
9. Pest Control on a Budget: Natural Solutions
Pests can quickly become a problem in any garden, but you don’t need to spend a lot on chemical pesticides. Natural pest control methods are not only cheaper but also safer for your plants, pets, and the environment:
Companion Planting: Certain plants, like marigolds, garlic, and nasturtiums, naturally repel pests. Planting them alongside your vegetables and flowers can help keep harmful insects at bay.
DIY Insect Sprays: Make your own insecticidal spray using ingredients like soap, garlic, or neem oil. These homemade sprays are effective against many common garden pests.
Encourage Beneficial Insects: Attract beneficial insects like ladybugs and bees by planting a variety of flowers. These insects help control pest populations and improve pollination.
By using natural pest control methods, you can protect your garden from damage while keeping costs down.
10. Join a Gardening Community: Share, Swap, and Learn
Gardening doesn’t have to be a solitary activity. Joining a gardening community can provide you with resources, knowledge, and camaraderie:
Plant Swaps: Participate in local plant swaps where you can trade plants, seeds, and cuttings with other gardeners. This is a great way to diversify your garden without spending money.
Community Gardens: If you have limited space, consider joining a community garden. These shared spaces often provide tools, compost, and other resources at little to no cost.
Online Forums and Social Media Groups: Join online gardening forums or social media groups where you can ask questions, share tips, and connect with other gardeners. These communities are invaluable for learning and finding inspiration.
Being part of a gardening community can help you access free or low-cost resources and provide ongoing support as you build your custom garden
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Everything to Know about the Biotone Fertilizer
Title: Unveiling the Benefits and Uses of Biotone Fertilizer
In the realm of agriculture, the quest for sustainable and efficient fertilizers is ongoing. Among the plethora of options available, Biotone Fertilizer stands out as a game-changer. This revolutionary product has garnered attention for its unique composition and impressive results. Let's delve deeper into everything you need to know about Biotone Fertilizer.
What is Biotone Fertilizer?
Biotone Fertilizer is a premium organic fertilizer renowned for its effectiveness in promoting plant growth and soil health. It is formulated using a blend of organic materials, beneficial microbes, and essential nutrients. Unlike traditional fertilizers that rely solely on chemical inputs, Biotone harnesses the power of natural ingredients to enhance soil fertility and support robust plant growth.
Key Ingredients and Composition
At the heart of Biotone Fertilizer are its organic ingredients, carefully selected to provide a balanced and comprehensive nutrient profile. These ingredients often include composted poultry manure, bone meal, feather meal, and sulfate of potash. Additionally, Biotone contains a diverse array of beneficial microbes such as mycorrhizae and beneficial bacteria, which play a crucial role in soil biology and nutrient cycling.
Benefits of Biotone Fertilizer
Promotes Soil Health: Biotone Fertilizer improves soil structure and enhances microbial activity, creating a fertile environment for plant roots to thrive. The organic matter in Biotone helps to retain moisture and improve soil aeration, reducing the risk of compaction and erosion.
Sustainable Nutrient Source: Unlike synthetic fertilizers that can leach into waterways and harm the environment, Biotone Fertilizer releases nutrients slowly over time, minimizing nutrient runoff and pollution. Its organic composition also contributes to building long-term soil fertility, reducing the need for frequent fertilization.
Enhances Plant Growth: The balanced blend of nutrients in Biotone promotes healthy plant growth, leading to increased yields and improved crop quality. Additionally, the presence of beneficial microbes in Biotone enhances nutrient uptake and root development, further boosting plant vigor and resilience to stress.
Safe for Use: Biotone Fertilizer is safe to use around children, pets, and wildlife. Its organic ingredients pose minimal risk of chemical exposure or toxicity, making it an ideal choice for organic farming and gardening practices.
Applications of Biotone Fertilizer
Gardening: Whether you're growing vegetables, flowers, or ornamental plants, Biotone Fertilizer provides an excellent source of nutrients to support healthy growth and abundant blooms. Simply incorporate Biotone into the soil before planting or use it as a top dressing during the growing season.
Farming: Biotone Fertilizer is equally beneficial for large-scale agricultural operations. Farmers can apply Biotone to their fields as part of their crop management practices to improve soil fertility, boost yields, and promote sustainable agriculture.
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⭐️ for directors cut!
Ah, thank you!
It took me a while to work out which piece would be good for this, as I've never seen or done a director's cut before. However! Now presenting:
Gather [Calloween 2022]: The Director's Cut (original on AO3)
The crisis was over. The dust was settling. After seventy-two hours, four moves, and one minor battle, the people were returning to Atlantis.
[The inspiration for this piece, working on the 'gather' prompt', came from my return from a field exercise a few months earlier which had been fairly similar to this scenario (in an Earth way), so much of it is based on experience. I love to see people come together after a shared adversity/hardship, rather than isolating themselves to recover then going on as normal.]
The mass exodus had been the very last resort to their initial problem, and had caused a whole host of others. With reluctance, McKay had had to advise the entire expedition to gate to another planet whilst the city was fully rebooted, [turn it off and on again strikes back] a process which would involve a purge of the life support systems and loss of the stargate systems for at least twenty-four hours. When they planet they had found refuge on initially was suddenly subject to a Wraith culling, they had been forced to move again, then the next planet had proven unsuitable, then then next…all the while, Atlantis had been unreachable, the reboot taking longer than expected ["When has plan A ever worked?"]. Finally, they had found a relatively calm planet to wait out the final few hours on, the gate releasing them into a deeply submerged cave system, and they had only been worried by regular minor earthquakes, a trifle compared to their other attempted safe havens.
Now, with the Atlantis gate available again, they were at the end of their ordeal, and everyone was tired, and beaten down. Thankfully, nobody was particularly broken [It took me a good while to get the wording there right...a worryingly long time considering how simple it is...]. Everyone dispersed to their quarters in silence, relying on the city's systems to allow all the showers to run hot at the same time [and for a long time...!], and thinking longingly of clean clothes and warm blankets.
However, despite promises to sleep for improbable numbers of days once they returned [My own statement was at least two days, but I heard someone promise a week], about an hour after the weary hoards shuffled though the Stargate, everyone found themselves packed into the mess hall [It really does happen that way...you just find yourself there, drawn by something you cant explain. It's very comforting.]. Some sprawled on seats whilst others took the floor, speaking softly and of nothing consequential. Nobody was cooking, but food had appeared [I like to think that, as for me, it was a large amount of pizza and sides. How many frozen pizzas went to Atlantis, I wonder?]. The atmosphere was one of pure comfort.
Rodney was slumped in a corner between a wall and a large planter, slowly working his way through half of a large, over-enthusiastically stuffed sandwich, whilst John sat nearby, munching on the other half with his eyes closed [They share the sandwich! Cute <3]. The scientist was on the brink of an exhausted sleep, but still valiantly trying to stop his head from drooping onto Sheppard's shoulder. Ronon was propped on the other side, his hand mechanically delivering some small, dried berries to his mouth [I'm imagining space Goji berries], and Teyla was leaning against him, still just about awake enough to be sipping some strong Athosian tea. [This paragraph was written with a wish for it to serve as an art prompt to someone, but so far no bites. Maybe I'll commission it someday.]
Zelenka was visible in the near distance, sitting at a table in front of a cup of coffee, the steam from which was fogging up his glasses. He made no effort to clear it: he had fallen asleep leaning on his hand, not surprising after his indefatigable efforts during their exile [At least 50% of his 'efforts' were put into arguing with McKay.]. In the far corner, Lorne was sitting with a group of marines who were lying around lazily and playing cards [They are playing Cheat. Everyone is both too tired to cheat, and too tired to realise that nobody is cheating.]. Chuck had fallen asleep with his arms as a pillow, nestled in the midst of the table of fellow gate techs [In my mind, he's the ringleader of the little group of green-shirts, and they're like a little family/sibling cluster. Not a good explanation but you get my point]. Carson, having looked after all the minor injuries and mental health issues for the past three days, was now looking after himself, sitting with the largest bowl of instant porridge he could muster and plodding through it spoon by spoon [If you've had real porridge, you know that instant isn't half as good, but although Carson is usually a snob about this, at that moment it's good enough.]. Weir had finally been able to step back from command, knowing that her people were safe, and was lying on a sofa deeply asleep, her cup of Athosian tea forgotten at her side [Given to her by Teyla...they had a little forehead moment too.].
After a while of observing his friends [Yes, they're all his friends. I think he's more popular than we necessarily see on screen, a sort of friend to all.], thinking back over their ordeal of the past few days, John suddenly realised something, and spoke it laconically.
"Y'know what day it is today?"
"Hm?" Rodney replied, bringing his head up from a dangerously downward trajectory [One of my favourite phrasings in this piece.].
"October thirty-first." John sighed. "Hallowe'en."
"Oh." Rodney replied, a more articulate answer failing him.
There was a moment of silence before Ronon's voice rumbled [Delayed alliteration my beloved]. "What's Hallowe'en?"
"Oh, it's an Earth thing," John explained slowly, "kids dress up and go around asking people for candy."
"What is the point?" Teyla asked amiably.
"Fun holiday I guess." John replied, suddenly stifling a yawn. "Kinda celebrates monsters and stuff."
"Defeating them?" Ronon asked.
"…yeah." John replied, thinking that it could be seen as ridiculing monsters into things that weren't scary at all. "Yeah, sure."
"People tell scary stories." Rodney added, struggling to keep up with even the simple conversation. "About ghosts and clowns and stuff."
"Yeah, we do that too." John agreed, adding a mumbled "I hate clowns."
Teyla frowned. "Tales of things that have happened to you?" she asked, "Why would you want to relive such painful memories?" [This said, we don't talk enough about the Athosian children playing Wraith. We should probably talk about that.]
"They're not normally real, just made up. For effect."
"We did that," Ronon volunteered, "on Sateda. When we sat around to clean our weapons, we'd tell each other stories of ghosts and stuff."
"Care to share?" John asked.
There was a pause of surprise, with Ronon not used to being the centre of attention on such occasions [He deserved more moments like this!], but receiving an encouraging smile from Teyla, he began. As the tale began to take shape, a few of the people nearby also turned to listen, and there was soon quite an audience [This is where people find themselves making new friends by accidentally leaning on people, or shuffling into them, slotting themselves into small gaps and being aware of the feeling of friends surrounding them.]. Sheppard let his head lean on the wall behind him, watching with a softened gaze as the group was quickly surrounded by their colleagues, the whole mess hall who wasn't already asleep deciding to gather [Again, it's a group instinct. Even people who aren't that interested will come over. Some remain with their friends and fall asleep too, but it's a very soft moment.]. It wasn't long after everyone had fallen into a reverent silence that a weight settled on his shoulder, moving rhythmically in slumber [Having someone's head on your shoulder is one of the best feelings in this world, and you can't change my mind.]. As he felt his own eyes drooping, Ronon's voice becoming more and more distant, he hardly noticed as his own head slumped onto Rodney's, and they drifted together into a dreamless sleep. [Another scene to commission...]
Thanks for this ask! It's great to get the opportunity to re-explore this piece, and I hope you found it interesting!
#ask#stargate atlantis#my fic#this was actually so fun#very much still accepting stars#there are more pieces which would love this treatment...#frankly i thought this piece was criminally overlooked so if theres anything massively weird then let me know yall
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Successful planting involves more than just the planter itself. It's about understanding the right balance of seed placement, soil conditions, and the tools that bring it all together. Considering the following sections that detail the wide range of adjustments and improvements, see how the key element, like closing wheels for planters, deserves special recognition for optimizing yield potential.
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MY BUDDYFIGHT AESTHETICS, but this time bold what applies and italicise what sometimes does! cross out what never applies
Gao Mikado: never expecting any of the beauty that takes you by force, morning waves lapping against the shore of an Irish beach, the aroma of eggs sizzling with butter in a pan, touching someone's soft, cold hand and feeling the warmth transfer between you two like an iv line, sinking into a fluffy bed radiating warmth after a long day, putting your achy head on the table in class. you're so so tired all the time but you know somewhere in your heart that you'll never get these days back. you're making the best of them however you can, "i know you always do your best."
Noboru Kodo: sugar caramelising brown in an oven, waiting for someone until you get the sinking realisation that they stood you up, lazy rainy afternoons under a grey sky, sitting cross-legged with one knee up and being scolded by your mom for looking like a gangster, breathing the taste of minty fir sap in a cooling forest, in a dark room with someone's back to yours confessing every mistake both of you ever made, with embarrassed laughs. backing out of a convenience store queue because there are too many people, "if i could have been born with your courage life could've been so much easier."
Zanya Kisaragi: always on your toes for something that you can't quite understand why you expect, the same familiar street at twilight when everyone returns to their houses and turns on the lamps, the texture of green tea against your dry tongue, dipping your fingers into the swimming pool to check the temperature and feeling the warmth flee from your blood, waking up tangled in your bedspread, clicking noise from stapling paper together briskly. you have something to do later and you're looking forward to it, "you're an inspiration, okay?"
Jin Magatsu: waking up with an unstoppable headache. bumping into pointy cabinets and having to reach too far to grab your throbbing foot with two hands. the flavour of cotton candy melting on your face around your mouth. someone wipes it off for you with the back of their cardigan covered hand. blackberry-infused tea (coffee is for lowlifes), the best time you swear by is naptime on another tiring Monday after work, never quite judging but always perceptive of how those around you feel towards anything, good natured sarcasm, "tell me how I got this lucky again?"
Tetsuya Kurodake: the buzzing sound you get in your head when you've listened to your headphones on max volume for far too long, little packets of vitamin enhanced milk and the crinkly sound wrapping makes when you tear it off, bright cel shading on a hand-drawn animation sheet, forgetting to pick your clothes off the floor in the morning after you left them there last night, vacuuming dust from underneath your bed and nearly choking from the bunnies, maybe a little bit afraid of being inferior at the things you love, "promise me we'll still have tomorrow."
Raremaro Tafudonokimi: traditional kimono. perfectly arranged bouquets, tissue flowers, expensive art that was made by some amateur on eBay. watching run-of-the-mill animation and trying to think of deeper meaning behind it. playing an instrument so badly birds drop from the trees. a gentle late afternoon, even so you complain about how hot it is. small yapping dogs, feeding breadcrumbs to the pigeons, not really sure if anyone looks up to you despite how hard you try, always bluffing your way out of real challenges, "you know, you're not such a bad presence after all."
Kanata Ozora: switching on the stove. it's too hot to stay in your blanket fort although all your air conditioners are on, so you crawl out on your hands and knees only for all the pillows to come crashing down. the way oatmeal slides down your throat like a raw egg. rain off fresh leaves smells so good that you have ten planters on your kitchen window ledge. mini bonsai trees. not really knowing what makes someone so beautiful but wanting to keep them anyways, forever. "why are you so afraid of yourself? you're so much more than i could ever have hoped for!"
Shosetsu Kirisame: stoic apologies. clean washing folded neatly, the warmth of clothes after they come out from the machine, misty showers with wet floors. In the daylight around nine, it's so peaceful and quiet, just the ideal time to get into some studying. open windows, no emoticons ever, the way air tastes in your lungs when you inhale really deep, how satisfying it feels to squirt toothpaste onto the bristles, looking back and wishing you could slap your self-centred egoistic teen self. "if i could do life over again, there are a lot of things I'd change. but I'd never change you."
Keisetsu: chilled pillows against your head. folding your hands behind your back and crossing your fingers. danger at every streetlight (but at least you know it's coming), that moment in the dead of night when you bolt upright panting and not knowing what woke you. you've never had any dreams, awake or sleeping, except for wanting somewhere to belong to, somewhere you can be an irreplaceable part of a world. team player at heart. pastel macarons in between your teeth, cherry sauce scent, ozone depletion under your belt, "i'm hopeless. can't even make you want me."
Shusui Kanehebi: breakdancing and rap music with terrible lyrics and too many curse words. pessimistic social media messages, gulping down fruit smoothies in one go, the taste of adrenaline in your throat when you smell the hunt on the wind. calling someone close to you eight times is a daily routine just for laughs and more often than not they block you until you apologize through a mutual. waking up sleepily and walking into your own bathroom door; your roommate screams at you to keep quiet or die by their blade. "maybe i can live with me, but you sure can't, you're too dang perfect."
Sakate Onagashira: museum dates. it's always been second nature to wait for someone else at the bus stop, but you're still single up till now. late night when you're being kicked out of yet another party - where did you take the forked road? There's no specific moment you can trace it back to, maybe you were just meant to be this way whether you wanted to or not. pepper fried rice smells hella good. peeling open durians and pineapples with your bare hands just to show you can, shivering when it gets even slightly cool out, "there's nothing i have for you, don't even try."
Kemura: never seems to be listening but always remembers everything, is the one who pets the elephant in the room whilst everyone ignores it. self-destructive kindness is a thing? actually listens to all those ads instead of skipping past them. 3 am and visiting the nearby food market for snacks before realising that it's closed, you've been playing video games too long. Plays Pokémon Go, keeps potted plants in your room but they keep wilting and you don't know what to do at all. surprisingly good at handicrafts although you might seem clumsy - "Kemura will do his very best!"
Gaito Kurouzu: trying too hard to seem unbreakable. reads latin during lunch break. never wonders why, only wonders how. throws tantrums like an excellent five year old. has a master's degree in planning documents and arranging their calendar, likes chocolate cake but not the low-sugar ones with less butter. the freshly baked pie smell only top-tier bakers can achieve, burst of peeled oranges as you bite through the skin, citrusy detergent on hands, cloudy nights as you wander around the corner for an errand, "don't you dare sneak off without telling me."
Kyoya Gaen: glass windows that you could fall through if you leant hard enough, little lies that you don't mind anymore. love that you deny everyday by acting cruel to it, as if that'll ever change anything. the sound of the door lock clicking behind you (which side are you on?), gentle somber dust against your skin like specks of glitter, scent of moth-eaten paintings, excruciatingly simple pencil sketches, neutralising the things you don't like by not giving them recognition, the childish confidence most of us lost a long while ago, dead sunsets, "maybe we could have worked out in a different universe, 'name'."
Kiri Hyoryu: scarves tucked tightly around your shaking hands. the sharp bite of cinnamon's aroma that brings a pop of colour, humid windy days when you can't see straight for the hair in your eyes but there's always, always someone who grabs your hand and takes you straight where you need to be. soft white cheese against good bread as you chew, making New Year's mochi and Lunar Month mooncakes by hand (the flour dust against your skin), meeting someone you know well after a while and realising somehow you've only become closer, petting cafes, "how did you find me?"
Rouga Aragami: unshakeable confidence; no hesitation. The darkness of the resting warmth in the night sky, jazz tunes in a dark bar, aeroplanes crossing the sky in their white trails like map lines, no drifting just swimming, chewing meat and ripping it straight from the bone, being the shoulder that someone else leans on as tears roll down their face (however silent or loud they sob, it doesn't matter to you), the sound of milk as it's poured into a glass, forehead against another forehead as you whisper-promise to them that it will work out, climbing a tree and realising that you can't get down, "i won't give up on you, no matter how many times you ask me to."
Tasuku Ryuenji: running in the rain as the wind blows droplets straight into your eyes. you're going in the wrong direction but what does that matter? unease. you constantly don't know what to do with yourself. bread rising in the oven and burning away, smoldering quietly. smell the rich coffee from the cold vending machine as you pop open another cup. falling asleep besides a stuffed animal, its fur is clumped together after a long period of usage. falling for the feeling that you've finally become more than just useful to someone, to anyone, you are loved, "i think that family is something you put in front of the world; you are my everything."
Paruko Nanana; livestreams & podcasts on a computer, a phone, an iPad, a MacBook, and a headset all at once. "only someone like you could handle all that."waking up on chilly rainy mornings at 6 am after studying till 2am, so used to telling the camera to get your good side that you forgot how some liked seeing you with silly haircurlers in. drinking bubble tea; the joys of youth. can't stretch or flex for your life, but the Easter Bunny couldn't jump higher. your idea of comfort food is french fries in ketchup someone save you from yourself, healthy living is working & playing hard in your book, bicycling in gardens, affection badly expressed, using short forms & text emojis, talkative but comforting, conscious of other people's existence,"YOU. you get me."
Kazane Fujimaya: positivity post accounts, local thrift shops and flea markets, haggling good-naturedly. that specific moment when the sun starts to rise and you've hiked up to the top of some steep hill that smells of fresh bamboo and steamed chestnut buns. it's sunrise over calm waters and there are no clouds if there are you're in the wrong place. being a regular customer, would volunteer at pet shelters but you're allergic to fur, eating egg mayonnaise sandwiches with black pepper and dropping it on your lap, you'll never get that stain out if you soak it for the rest of your life. vegetable soup is so good you swear by it, feeling alienated from everyone by some really hurtful circumstance but going home to face it regardless. "hey, are you awake yet?"
Kuguru Uki: clay scent of contented pottery wheels, oven mitts, potwarmers, the way lavender hangs in the air over the blue that has yet to descend and bring twilight with it, getting ready to leave and sitting down to pull on your shoes over your feet in their padded socks. never yelling in case you startle someone nearby who's working. getting used to warmed-up rice balls in place of actual meals. inhumanly good at playing those claw machine games, even when they're rigged. "fifty points to gryffindor", sitting and revising your notes only to realise that your handwriting is embarrassingly rushed, redoing them although it's still readable. life's a balancing act and you are a champion. compromises. "there you are, I've been waiting for you!"
Megumi Mamakari: buying instant fashion from high-end malls, inhaling the aroma of cold-brew coffee beans in a place so cold your fingers are turning pink, mini whitebread tuna and lettuce sandwiches that crunch underneath your teeth, doing ballet as a kid and never tiptoeing again because your toes are still bruised underneath your socks. crawling under the bed because you take hide-and-seek very seriously. copying people's handwriting is a strange hobby but if it's not fascinating your hair isn't lemonade pink. the most starched out days when moisture hangs so thick you could slice it with a knife, the clouds are as grey as your jumper, lightning may strike any moment, that's part of the thrill. rollercoasters & haunted houses, "laugh all you want. you can't deny it."
Suzuha Amanosuzu: perfect eyeliner. flawlessly groomed, prideful with a reason, being the benevolent queen is difficult but you'll do it with grace and strength if it costs you your beautifully manicured fingernails. "End of discussion - there's nothing more to say" bubbly apple cider bursts against your palate, let it wash down the aromatic basil-topped lamb cutlet that's laid out artisan style on your porcelain plate. korean dramas and scandalous romance novels, you know the myths better than the history professor does, that doesn't disconnect you from reality. snapping a painted fan closed, elegant victorian fashion, stars coming out in a whole parade across the galaxy at 4am (you glow brighter than all, this is light pollution my dear), "what, are my feelings a concern to you?"
Ku Teito: flashy sunsets on the subway, riding on the carousel when the circus comes to town. big hearted only means your heart falls harder, darling; the air smells lonelier at night when you're out patroling on your lonesome: you always work yourself to the bone. chocolate roll bread fresh from the oven that your teeth sink into like butter. drafting reports by using the speech function because you'd rather use your hands to play Minecraft and Nitendo Wii games instead, you actually subscribe to legitimate music services instead of pirating. good for you. the world is so big and you could fit in a pocket of my hands, you need to be protected but only wish to protect others, selflessly, brightly, purely. it's not about the ego for you. karaoke master. "you can never match up to me, but go on and try!"
Mrs Fujimaya: making jokes that aren't funny. stop using your humour to cut wounds open in yourself; those who love you do not want to watch you bleed. i know you've been staying strong all through every trial, just a little longer, keep standing, please. having a picture perfect memory: the differences in the world you move forward through is as glaring as the sun to you, you are the closest to realisation you've ever been. keep going. popcorn salted dissolves in your mouth leaving only hard kernels of truth - the scent of flower pollen is one you'll never forget as you kneel in front of his portrait (in front of him at his grave.) days when you couldn't bear to open the windows and no one kept track of time for you, it's so hard being a mother who has to shoulder her little girl's pain on top of her own. "you don't have to worry, I can push through like a freight train."
Suzumi Mikado: the clouds are so much closer than you thought at first, green crocuses, leaves falling in a crochet pattern, beckoning storms and their irises of calm, the final light of the day, twisted paper cones of salted peanuts, tricoloured pansies, black tulips "you sure don't mess around, do you?" mad rollerblading skills, probably jogged every day before school, had a million graduation photo albums and her son's smile, bulldog terrier as a childhood pet, against light pollution, manic for radio dramas. constantly smells of hugging, how can someone smell like hugging? the one who eats door-to-door salesmen for breakfast, but charms the entire parent support group with your boisterous enthusiasm and courageous grace of carrying yourself well. you are a survivor. "you! stand up on your own two feet!"
Ageha: little white lies. the epitome of showbiz. slightly bizarre but you never want those clicking high heels to stop, champion of climbing trees. snakes and the divine are inextricably connected like the four beasts of the directions that protect a large snake coiled at the centre of the world (isn't that what you are?) time doesn't leave a mark on you, to you it is inconsequential my lady. spray that hibiscus perfume once again and watch me become enthralled by it. pancakes are a go to breakfast with your secret sauce that's really just citrus juice mixed with cream and vodka. kindness in the mask of an expertly carried theatre performance, or the rhythm of a street dancer, you bring tidal waves wherever you step. "you should know by now, that isn't enough to keep me entertained. show me something spectacular!"
Sofia Sakharov: compassion never picked up on, you prefer it that way. sticky food like homemade jam with the pips squeezed out, borscht and rye bread a familiar but not comforting texture on your pale tongue. days and nights blend together when you are the very essence of stars and the sun is right beside you - what more do you need? never have you ever been interested in the moon. putting up with things, a magenta that demands attention. unconsciously mimicking those around you and copying theur behaviour; it must be a pattern by now to blend in. that's all you've ever been asked to do. little ways of being rebellious. blunt and insensitive comments that scream for someone to try and uncover their source. tsarina of a thousand fullstops, sarcasm, matryoshka dolls,"who are you to lecture me?"
Terumi Kuchinawa: hungry looks exchanged between lovers. you probably learned french in school. speaking of that, slightly burnt french toast scarred like the sun's surface with a thousand pits, sweet and thick like a promise. here you are at the steps of the school waiting for the pigeons to take flight, over the rising light that illuminates your world (and you alone.) smell the cigarettes and stamp your foot at the irresponsible person who ruined your beautiful morning. where is the shyness and insecurity that you hide so well under the surface? oh but my dear you are a dragonfruit; when squishy, you burn with a whoosh of fire. not so innocent are you? your worth has pain dormant in yourself all the time you were searching for someone to give it to. "you're pathetic! but then, I guess you already know that."
Yuga Mikado: the traffic light turns green exactly as you step onto the road, maybe you know more than you should at the age you are, still waiting aren't you for the window to dry off after you scrubbed it clean, sparkly, transparent. nothing is bright but that's ok because you are enough. you glow brighter than lanterns. confident strides; how have you grown so fast, my child? you know all about living in someone's shadow but you have mint on your breath and we will go into the light with no regrets. aut inveniam viam aut faciam. "being around you is the most fun thing I can imagine!"
Ranma Kakogawa: and where would I have found myself if you had not been there in my time of need? ache of always being caught on your own. wouldn't it be nice to be crowded around for once, someone born to shine as bright as a fire. but sweetheart, should you ever have been held up to the right kind of mirror, you would have seen that you are the lens of a camera; seen and seen through, needed, loved, held. caramel latte art and a full English breakfast. can you hear the way the helicopter whirrs over the fields in the morning? praeterita mutare non possumus. "We're going to make it. I'll do whatever I have to to make it happen."
Subaru Hoshiyomi: could I believe in your courage the same way you trust in others? hesperus or venus, there is no difference in my eyes. a rose by any other name smells as sweet, the confidence you exude is a charisma of its own that you wield with ease. so selfish in your own way, unable to see beyond your own nose. wisdom and knowledge are different, but you will learn with time. you could call out the birds and sing down the mountain dawn with that compelling honesty of yours. brazen, tongue-in-cheek luceo non uro. "Even I can't fully understand you. However, that may not...be such a bad thing after all."
Masato Rikuo: strong chai tea topped with leaves and cinnamon. whatever are you waiting for? your boundless energy is more than an inspiration, at the heart of it, it's an innocent desire of a child. you've listened to those who poured out their ideals and that is all that can be expected from you. sometimes I think you do too much. concentration, additives, you may taste of all these, but you're au natural. never lose heart, dear one, never turn back or away. they will come to their senses in time. aut insanity homo, aut versus facit. "with you here, I could conquer the universe!!!!!! we're invincible!"
Light Kurouzu: seeing your face in a thousand and three copper whistling kettles steamed up with condensation. too many things you can't run from. videos without the ads because you paid for premium when you were down and now you can't waste it. yet another reason to dodge another batch of questions. there is roadwork and a ladder and a black cat on your daily journey home and you have made peace with every one of them. some things shouldn't be hidden inside superstition, you believe, rubbing at scratches. nec spe, nec metu. "You're going to be famous in a foreign city."
Seiji Kido: and again you pound your hands on the keys. There are no melodies, only different languages, and your inability to comprehend them frustrates you to no end. perhaps the beauty you've been seeking is in the openness of not knowing. can you wait a little longer to be accompanied in the empty concert halls? i promise there is someone waiting in the wings for their cue. faith is something terribly complicated to cultivate, but I give it to you now without charge. go forth again with your gifts and lay barr your heart. you have been heard and perhaps we were never lost, merely searching. semper ad meliora, "I'm right here, moron. Talk to me."
Masato Foil: conundrums again. You bear the weight of capital letters in your shoulders, raised to be a king, born to be a soldier, yet susceptible to the notions of poets that you request to be removed from a distance; they are not yours and never will be. so many possibilities yelling your name that you ignore as if you were deaf. I'm not sure whether I shall call you resolved or witless. Mountains will tremble when they are in your presence and countries will now before your feet. I just hope the hurt is worth it, dear liege, I have seen the heart you hold like a pen as you sign your edicts in blood.
si vis pacem, para bellum. "I rule for you alone."
Alexandre Ankh: scornful crown; you do not rule, you are a ruler and few can tell the difference. easy to read as palm lines, running fingertips over the intercrossed veins, as shallow and as deep as the surging currents of the parted Red Sea beneath Moses's staff. forever I would entrust the burdens to you because you do not see them as burdens but responsibility and that could be a curse or a birthright, I would not know. tear apart the lies for I give you my signet ring; take it and guide the people. you have the strength to be who you are, endure and admonish the lost. littera scripta manet. "You need never kneel when you are with me."
Kei Jinguji: paralysed worse than a paraplegic. who was the soul who ripped out your joy and replaced it with such numbing fear? I will readily admit that shame is not a medicine I wish to taste, yet the way you shudder in fear makes me want to swallow it for you. take a look at how I am making my words fall softer on your ears than light, and think to yourself that maybe the purpose of imperfection is to help us understand what grace is; what love is, that you need not be so desperate for something that requires nothing of you. the rainclouds are blocking out all your monsters, you are safe here. memento vivere. "It's my loss to you."
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Checking the Tyre Pressure on the Spare Tyre
When you get a flat tire, the last thing you want is to discover that your spare tire is also flat.
This is why it's essential to check the tire pressure on your spare tire on a regular basis.
A flat spare tire can quickly turn a quick tire change into a nightmare situation.
To check the tire pressure of your spare tire, you'll need a tire pressure gauge.
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Simply remove the valve cap from the tire and press the gauge onto the valve stem.
The gauge will provide a reading of the tire pressure in PSI (pounds per square inch).
If the tire pressure is too low, you'll need to inflate the tire to the recommended pressure level.
This information can be found in your vehicle owner's manual or on a sticker located on the inside of the driver's side door.
It's important to note that spare tires are not meant to be driven on for long periods of time.
They are designed to get you to the nearest service station or tire shop where you can have your flat tire repaired or replaced.
So, once you have replaced your flat tire with the spare, be sure to drive to a professional tire shop as soon as possible.
What to do with the flat tyre
Once the flat tyre has been replaced, it's important to know what to do with it.
You don’t want to simply leave it lying around as it can be a hazard to others and take up valuable space.
One option is to leave the flat tyre at the tyre fitting centre where you bought your new tyre.
They often offer the disposal of old tyres as part of their services.
If you're unable to do that, you can also take the tyre to a local recycling center where it can be disposed of properly.
In some cases, the center may even pay you a small fee for the tyre, especially if it's in good condition and can be reused.
Another option is to repurpose the tyre for a DIY project.
Old tyres can be turned into planters for your garden or used as weights for outdoor workout equipment.
Get creative and see what you can come up with!
Whatever you do, it's important to dispose of the tyre responsibly and not leave it to become a hazard or an eyesore.
Check your route planner United Kingdom.
By doing so, you'll not only be helping the environment but also ensuring the safety of others.
Final thoughts and reminders
Congratulations, you've successfully changed your tyre!
But before you hit the road, there are a few reminders you should keep in mind.
Firstly, always make sure to check the pressure of your spare tyre before embarking on your journey.
If the pressure is too low, it could cause further damage to the tyre or even blow out on the road.
Secondly, remember that a spare tyre is only meant to be a temporary fix.
As soon as possible, you should replace it with a proper tyre.
Thirdly, it's important to regularly check the condition of your tyres.
This includes looking for any signs of wear and tear, checking the tread depth, and ensuring the pressure is at the correct level.
Neglecting tyre maintenance can lead to more serious issues down the line.
Finally, it's always a good idea to have a roadside assistance plan in case of emergencies.
Even if you know how to change a tyre like a pro, unexpected situations can still arise on the road.
Having a plan in place can give you peace of mind and help get you back on the road quickly.
By following these simple steps and keeping these reminders in mind, you'll be well-prepared to handle any tyre-related issues that come your way.
Safe travels!
We hope you found our article on how to change a tyre helpful.
Changing a tyre can be a daunting task, especially if you have never done it before.
However, with the 10 simple steps we provided, you can easily learn how to do it like a pro.
Remember to always be safe and take your time when changing a tyre.
We hope that this guide has given you the confidence to tackle this task on your own.
So, the next time you find yourself with a flat tyre, you'll be ready to handle it like a champ!
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Well, it doesnt look like much but i pulled all the dead plants (mostly squash and tomatoes), tilled everything, added a little fertilizer, threw a few more bags of soil down, and got the winter crops in. The area in the first pic just has lots of beets. The trench in the second pic has potatoes, and then those rectangular planters have garlic and one beet (ran out of big cloves of garlic and still had one beet that i couldnt fit anywhere. I got a six pack of seedlings at the nursery but the vast majority i planted today is seed). Theres still some tomatoes left that i moved to the side to give a few more weeks, the basil is still alive and off to the side as well, and Lyubimiy (the fig tree) is looking okay and has a few nearly ripe figs.
Still have to water everything but im taking a break because i have had a migraine all day and im very tired.
Also, i put this off so long because i thought i didnt have any more beet seeds left so i finally ordered some last night after failing to find any locally, and then i just figured i'd get the garlic and potatoes in today and set everything up for the beets. But it turns out i had a half pack of seeds in the seed bin the entire time, and i just. Did not check because i was so certain i was out. Very aggravating, because now im a few weeks late.
Glad to have gotten it all done though. And i guess now i have extra beet seeds. And radish seeds. And i ordered another kind of seed as well that i cannot recall. So, surprise seeds.
#i keep waking up with migraines recently#have just powered thru it today but good god it would have been a lot nicer if i didnt have a migraine right now#gardening
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8 — The Healer
The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist
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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: NSFW, Blood and injury, medical, unintentional self inflicted harm, mention of disordered eating (Not graphic, but warnings still apply), oral sex (f receiving)
Summary: You get the chance to start working on a long awaited project, and get in over your head.
A few days later your breakfast with Talece and Mira is interrupted by the head of one of the construction and renovation crews to let you know that the sunless garden space is complete.
You’re so excited you can hardly finish your meal. You find yourself wanting to sprint down the halls to see the room. It takes so much self restraint to compose yourself and walk beside the rather stoic and unbothered construction lead down to the room.
Before the renovation it must have been either a ballroom or a massive storage space. Either way it was not well maintained. It was full of piles and piles of junk that climbed all the way to the ceiling, the floors and the walls were damaged, and it was unusable.
It had been your idea to gut the room and turn it into something usable and unique. You loved having a garden on your homeworld, and since nothing grows on Tatooine due to the excessive heat from the suns and the lack of fertile soil, this seemed like the perfect use for the room.
Boba didn’t have much of an opinion on it either way when you initially pitched him the idea. In all honesty, he was just happy to see how happy it made you. He was quite impressed by your ingenuity creating this room. Artificial sun and moon lighting in real time with the seasons, water reclaimer and distributor so that whatever plant you choose can be watered without wasting it, and holo panels covering the walls to make the entire space look like an enclosed greenhouse.
And when you finally get to look at it, it’s perfect. Rows of raised garden beds, the lighting and holo panels look so real you’re almost sure they misunderstood your directions and just built out a patio instead.
“If there’s anything we missed or not up to your standard let us know, my lady” the foreman tells you
“No no, this is absolutely perfect” you can’t contain the smile on your face “Thank you! Thank you so much, it’s wonderful”
The foreman has to hold back a laugh, you’re practically vibrating, you're so elated. In all his years of doing large scale projects like this, he’s never had a client seem so appreciative.
“I’ll leave you to it my lady” The foreman politely exits the room, leaving you to wander around and admire their handiwork.
As you walk you begin taking notes on your data pad, for what plants and flowers you want to put in which planter boxes. It’ll be a tall order to get all the seeds and plant bulbs delivered here, but once they’re planted and growing, this will be a sight to behold!
You land up spending the entire day in the garden, labeling planter boxes with bits of flimsy tacked on the sides. Talece brought down a tray of food and insisted you eat something, but she also took the time to let you gush about the vegetables you planned to grow and how beautiful the room will be when things begin to bloom.
When you’re too exhausted to stand up straight any longer you make the long trek through the palace back to your room. Only to lay down on the bed with your data pad to begin placing the orders for soil, seeds, bulbs, labels, and plant pots. When you finally power off the data pad, you’re so happy. You can’t wait for Boba to be home so you can show him how amazing it all is.
You hear from Boba a couple days later, he is finally returning to Tatooine, and is “very excited” to see your new projects. He can’t help but smile picturing you squealing with delight as you show him all of your little plants and paintings.
On the same day, your soil and seeds finally arrive at the palace. You almost feel bad for having guards and some of the stronger looking servants help you drag bags of soil down to the garden. You feel less bad because you’ve got your sleeves rolled up to do the heavy lifting too.
Once everything is down there though, you release them to go back to their everyday duties. You get into a rhythm. Slice the seam off a soil bag. Dump into a planter box. Distribute evenly, and rake to till it. Move on to the next planter box.
Hours and hours and hours of this pass. You couldn’t be happier. It reminds you of summers back on your home planet, planting the seeds that would eventually become your fall crops. That would later become your fall meals. Soups and stews thickened with vegetables, roasted root and tubers to go with roasted meat, and gourds to be cooked down into mush to be put into pastries. It’s too hot to have such a need for hearty hot foods like that here on Tatooine. But you still crave them from time to time. It’s one of the only things you miss about your previous home.
As you’re slicing open a bag of soil, thinking about soup, you put in just a little too much force and swipe the blade farther than you expected. At first you don’t really feel it. But then you see the colorful bloom of fresh blood staining your sleeve. You’re stunned for a moment looking at it.
Your hands are covered with dirt. Mind over matter you resist the urge to clamp your dirty hand down over the bloody wound. Instead you calmly stand up and go back to your room. Staring straight ahead, not really able to look at it at the moment.
You get back to your room and know without looking that it is still bleeding but not that bad. I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse. You recite to yourself. You start the facet in the fresher and clean your hands, some of the blood has dribbled down your arm into your hand. You scrub it away quickly so you can peel off the shirt.
You take a deep breath and look in the mirror. It’s bloody. But not bad. You figure if you can clean it well and wrap it tightly it’ll be fine. You decide you’re done for today and it might be best if you just clean it in the shower. Perhaps not your best decision, but people make poor choices when they’re in shock.
Eventually you are clean, dry, dressed, and have the wound wrapped in a clean bandage. The shock has finally worn off, leaving you feeling exhausted and in quite a bit of pain. You know you’ve probably pushed yourself a bit too far today, and not just because you got hurt. You didn’t remember to take breaks, drink water, or eat meals at all today. A nasty habit you’re still trying to break.
Tomorrow will be better, you promise yourself. You do the responsible thing and lay down for the rest of the evening, falling asleep to an older episode of one of the shows Boba likes to watch.
In the morning, your whole body is sore and the wound hurts pretty badly. You risk taking a peek at it, the bandage is mostly soaked through but not enough to stain the bedding or your clothes… your clothes from yesterday.
You groan in frustration, blood stains are difficult to remove if you let them set. Sitting up you feel a little dizzy, chalk it up to lack of food and water plus everything that happened yesterday. Today is going to be better, you remind yourself. You start by getting out of bed and drinking a glass of water from the fresher. There you already feel a little better.
Next you search around for your dirty clothes from yesterday. Just as you thought, stained. You decide to run some water in the bathtub and let it soak with soap while you take care of the wound. It’s certainly not a pretty sight, but you muscle your way through it and get it clean once more and wrapped as best you can. It’s not perfect but it will have to do.
Just as you finish up you hear a knock at the bedroom door followed by the door opening on its own. You flinch at the sound. Usually if someone in the palace needs your help they will knock but wait for you to bid them entry or open the door yourself. This can only mean one thing.
“Cyare?” It’s Boba! You turn quickly and dash out of the fresher, leaving the medical supplies on the counter.
“Boba!” You exclaim running into his waiting arms. He snatches you up in a bracing hug and laughs at your enthusiasm.
“I tried to com you last night to tell you I would be home in the morning but you didn’t answer. I figured you were asleep” He explains releasing you from the hug and pressing a kiss to you cheek.
“Oh yeah, I was really tired yesterday. I fell asleep with the holo on” you tell him with a bit of an embarrassed heat creeping up into your cheeks.
“You needed rest, can’t be blamed for that my dear” he assures you, tilting your face up to him to give you a proper kiss on the lips. The kiss deepens, both of you finding that you can’t seem to pull away.
“Stars I missed you” you say quietly when you finally have to break for fresh air
“I missed you too cyare. Let me clean up a bit and we can have some breakfast together” he lets you go completely now. You smile and nod happily. He kisses you one more time, and moves past you to go into the fresher while you go find clothes to wear for the day.
Suddenly Boba is calling your name from the fresher. Your heart fills with dread at the thought of what he’s just seen in there.
“What the hell happened in here? Are you alright?” He begins scanning you up and down with his eyes, zeroing in on the bandage on your arm.
“It’s okay! I’m okay” you assure him, trying to push past and clear away the medical supplies from the counter
He places his hands on his shoulders and spins you around to face him, carefully saying your name again with a warning air about him. His hands stay on your shoulders and he looks you in the eye when he asks again. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing really, I cut myself opening a bag of soil yesterday” you explain
He sighs and shakes his head “And what did the healer say?”
“I… I didn’t see a healer” you admit sheepishly
“What? Why not?” He’s appalled and a little frustrated
“I didn’t think it was necessary, I’ve had worse before” you realize his shock and frustration is not unfounded, any rational person probably would have spoken to a healer about this.
“Had worse? And you handled it yourself? Cyare, that is a serious injury” He says, as if repeating it would get you to understand the severity of the situation.
“Boba… I wasn’t welcome to visit the healer on my homeworld. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask for help” Suddenly you feel guilty and a little defensive “I don’t… I don’t know how to do that when I’m in trouble. I didn’t even think about it”
Then he understands. Of course you wouldn’t think to ask for help when you hurt yourself. Because you’ve been conditioned to think you would not get it if you asked. He has to remind himself that he too used to struggle with asking for assistance, and it’s something that he needs to be understanding about in this relationship.
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry cyare, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you” he apologizes “I was just worried when I saw the bloody clothing and used medical supplies. I know you did your best with what you had at the moment. But now you’re not in danger, and we have the resources to have a healer that will actually help you. May I call someone to come look at it?”
You nod in acceptance and let him guide you back out into the main living space in your quarters. He sits you down in a chair, and asks that you just sit and relax for a couple minutes while he steps outside to give instructions to a guard or staff member.
He instructs a guard to go into Mos Eisley and bring back a healer, and a second guard to instruct the kitchen staff to bring a pitcher of hot water as well as breakfast. A few moments later there’s a gentle knock at the door. Boba calls for them to enter, and Mira comes forward bringing the pitcher of water and a tray laden with tea, toast, and eggs cooked the way you like them. She has a look of horror on her face as she sees Boba tending to your injured arm, and you cringe thinking back to your conversation with her the other day.
But Boba doesn’t seem to notice at all, “Thank you Mira, we might need more water if the healer asks for it later”
She gives a shaky curtsy and small voiced “Of course, my lord. My lady” before quickly leaving the room.
“So” Boba gives you a look “Cut yourself opening a bag of soil aye? Does that mean your fancy garden is finished?”
“Yes” you smile a little shyly, knowing that if he gets you talking about it you won’t shut up for the next half an hour at least
“Go on then, tell me everything” he encourages you, because more than anything, he missed hearing you gush about things you care about while he was traveling.
As you eat your breakfast you tell him about your new painting studio and the garden and all the plants you’ve ordered. Which things have arrived, which things you’re still waiting for. You tell him the truth about yesterday, that you had been at it for hours and your hand just slipped when you hurt yourself.
“Accidents happen cyare” he reminds you “I just want you to be more careful”
Just then there is another knock at the door, Boba calls for them to enter. The guard he sent into town has returned with the healer, and you’re surprised to see that you recognize him.
“It’s you, hello again” you greet him.
The man looks a little stunned. When you had asked him to make a remedy for chemical burn scars, you had said it was for your partner, not the kriffing king!
“Y-yes… nice to see you again… um… What seems to be the problem?” he asks, struggling to get his bearings.
Boba takes the liberty of explaining your injury to the healer, and invites him to come take his place so he can examine the wound and assess if it needs further treatment. While the healer works Boba excuses himself to remove his armor and get cleaned up in a different room of the palace. But he leaves two guards to watch over you. When Boba’s gone the healer looks up at you.
“You didn’t tell me your partner was the kriffing king” he hisses as he unwraps the bandage
“That was intentional” you explain “I can’t just go broadcasting to the entire city what my business is”
“Yeah but you might have mentioned it” he grumbles “would have charged you more”
He takes a look at your wound and takes on a look of concentration and disappointment
“What?” you ask with a touch of worry in your voice
“This needs stitches and bacta. You should have come to me or another healer immediately” he chastises you
“Hey, I did my best okay. And if you’re going to get mouthy can I at least know your name so I know who to curse in my mind when you stitch me up?” You bite back
“Darius” he replies “And you can curse me all you like, but you’ll thank me later when this heals without an ugly scar”
“Fine” you relent and let him get to work recleaning and stitching up the wound.
By the time Boba returns Darius has the wound rewrapped and is writing out instructions to keep it clean on a spare bit of flimsi. Darius gets markedly more tense when Boba is in the room, clearly he’s more intimidated by Boba than he is by you. He hands you the piece of flimsi and reminds you to be more careful next time before hastily departing the room with guards escorting him. Boba sends the breakfast tray out as well, finally giving you both some privacy.
“Now then, I believe I promised you a reward last we spoke” he leans forward to kiss the sensitive spot just behind your ear.
You hum in contentment as he continues kissing down your neck.
“Have you been a good girl while I’ve been gone?” he purrs
“Yes” you say with a little gasp and he sucks a particularly pleasant spot
“Go lay down for me” he pulls away from your neck and nods his head towards the bed. You get up quickly and toss the pillows up to the head of the bed and lay back.
He crawls up the bed slowly, pushing your legs apart at the knees dipping down to start a trail of kisses leading up and over your thigh. He breezes right past your needy pussy and instead continues kissing over your hips, and across to your tummy.
“You were so good for me on the com” he murmurs, dragging his nose across your skin, down from your belly button to top of your mound. He’s looking up at your pretty face, wanting to see every expression cross it.
Without blinking an eye, pushes his tongue between your lips and licks a broad stripe up, already tasting your arousal. He continues, slowly stroking you with his tongue up and down, up and down, up and down.
You can’t help it, you start squirming. It feels amazing, but his slow pace is driving you wild. Normally Boba might be a little mean and make you stay still, but it’s been too long and he’s loving watching you writhe in pleasure.
He maintains his long strokes but begins increasing his speed. Finally working an audible moan out of your chest. He switches tactic and pauses mid stroke, and begins fluttering his tongue just barely inside your dripping hole.
“Fuck!” You whimper trying to force yourself not to buck your hips into his mouth.
He knows you’re getting close and he knows just what to get you to the finish line, he makes one more broad stroke with his tongue and stops at the top of his path and latches onto your clit. Suckling and circling the swollen bud with his talented tongue.
Your whole body tensed with such force that you’re sure you might have pulled a muscle and moan in ecstasy as you cum on his face. Boba doesn’t stop, he continues to lap up your release all the way through your orgasm. When you’re finally laying back boneless with your eyes closed, breathing heavily he pulls away kissing back up your belly with feather light pressure until he’s hovering over you, kissing your neck and waiting for you to feel ready to open your eyes again.
Eventually you do open your eyes again, and place your hand on the back of his head to guide him away from your neck. He follows your direction and comes back down to kiss your lips.
“That was one hell of a reward” you say with a breathy laugh
“What can I say? I’m a man of my word” he shrugs laying down beside you
“You certainly are” you smile “I’m really glad you’re back”
“You really did miss me” he chuckles
“Of course I did! I love getting to talk to you about the garden and my painting and my projects. And I really missed getting to relax with you at night. And I love watching your weird holo dramas and hearing about your clients and having dinner with you. I just love… you” you find yourself admitting
He reached out, cradling your face in his hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb “I love you too cyare. I missed you dearly while I was gone. Thought about you every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to sleep”
Your heart soars hearing him say that. It’s easy to fall in love. Day in and day out, it just happens. It’s hard to admit you’re in love. You have to find the words to explain to someone why they are the most important person in your life and they give you unending joy even when you’re not right next to them. But with Boba it’s easy. It’s easy to be in love and it’s easy to say it.
“I love you”
Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey @paige6768 @littledragonlady @star-hoes @aeryntheofficial @xx-small-town-witch-xx @lokigirlszendaya @ladysongmaster @2clones-1kamino @cagrame @ashbyrhymer @adancedivasmom @4rosydreams @heybub @thefact0rygirl @elinedjarin
#Boba Fett#Boba Fett x Reader#boba fett x female reader#boba fett x f!reader#The Queen of Tatooine#QT
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FICTOBER 2021 (Gahan) - Day 1
Hi, am doing this 31-day writing called Fictober and I hope that the power of Gahan will help me finish it (tried for 2 years but never succeeded).
Prompt No: Day 1 - "I need you."
Fanfiction Fandom: The Devil's Judge (TVN), Gahan, Lawful Husbands, Yohan x Gaon.
Rating: General Audience
Warnings: Magical AU
Gaon was struggling, breathing heavily as he heaved with all his might. But it wouldn't budge and in desperation he yelled for help, "Yohan, I need you!"
Unable to turn and see as he clung on, afraid of losing his grip, Gaon felt the presence of someone coming from behind. Then strong arms were coming round him, and hands were grasping what he had been holding on for dear life.
"Okay, at the count of three...", Yohan's voice uttered, so near his breath caressed Gaon's ear.
"1...2....3!"
Together they pulled, muscles straining and teeth clenching, and an unholy wailing screech burst free from what they had been pulling.
Grinning fiercely, knowing that they were close to winning, they poured the last of their strength into the battle. And inch by inch, their prize began to come out from the soil. It finally tore free and the screeching wail died into piteous sobbing.
"Don't eat me! Don't eat me!" The magical ginseng cried, its voice high-pitched and babyish.
"I'm sorry," Gaon apologised while Yohan rolled his eyes and told him to just bagged it.
That only made the ginseng cry even more and Gaon glared at Yohan and told him to shut it.
"Please ignore the old man," Gaon patted its leaves, wincing as Yohan yelled in outrage, "We just want to move you, that's all."
"You're not going to eat me?"
"Nope," Gaon shook his head, "We just want to bring you home. Won't you like to live somewhere better than this?"
Gaon gestured at the forest, sadness in his eyes as he stared at the dying trees, decaying where they stood.
"Will there be honeyed water?" The ginseng asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
"There will be and many friends too."
"Too many, I will say," Yohan butted in and Gaon shot him a dirty look as the ginseng cowered in fear, its tiny roots covering its eyes.
When it finally calmed down, after some soothing from Gaon, it asked again.
"You're sure you're not going to eat me?"
Gaon nodded his head and waited patiently while Yohan paced restlessly behind him.
It didn't take long for the ginseng to cave in - tired of struggling all alone in this dismal landscape. So when Gaon offered it the bag Yohan had passed to him, it climbed in meek and compliant.
"Can't you just be nicer? Gaon admonished as he gently placed the bag into his backpack.
"I'm a hunter not a planter."
"How many times must I tell you that it's not called planter. I'm a botanist!"
"Whatever," Yohan shrugged, "Now where's my payment."
Huffing in exasperation, Gaon leaned in and planted a kiss on Yohan's lips.
"Happy now."
"Not at all."
And Yohan pulled him in, his kiss definitely not as chaste as the one Gaon had given.
(You can imagine them wearing the dark matrix-style judge robes as they moved through a world wrecked by magic. Gaon is doing his best to save as many magically-turned plants and along the way he met Yohan.)
(For more Fictober 2021 (Gahan) - Read here.)
#fictober21#gahan#the devil judge#lawful husbands#kang yohan x kim gaon#yohan x gaon#just my silly brain thinking silly things
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In the Backyard Catching Fireflies (Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky)
In the Backyard Catching Fireflies
[Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky]
[Warnings: slight blood]
You honestly could have dreamed you would be in this type of situation if you were looking at this from the lens of last year's Reader. It was a mistake to even make contact with them to begin with.
As a child, your mother would often bring you into the woods to look for fun things: flowers, mushrooms, rocks, sometimes bones or pieces of trees. Other times, she brought you out there to practice her own magick, other days it was just to spend time in nature, and every other time than those reasons was just to spend time with you, her one and only beloved daughter. The correct term would be ‘witch’ but your mother never actually called herself one. Magickal practitioner, maybe, but never a ‘witch.’ You, on the other hand, absolutely took that term with pride.
You being a witch was what accidentally caused you to meet them to begin with. One evening, while out and about in the forest on the edge of town where you looked for fresh violets to eventually make violet syrup for your daughter’s ‘magical creature tea party,’ you found your favorite stretch of woods filled with the scent of blood. How strange, and it didn’t strike you as an animal’s blood. No, this was much stronger, more metallic, and carried the weight of sins past in its wake. As you looked around the forest to see what on earth was causing the terrible scent, you saw two men get spit out in between the trees. They flailed for a moment before getting tossed onto the forest floor, looking so much worse for wear.
“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed in surprise as you began to run over to the two, wondering if they were okay. You drew cautiously near them, only momentarily pausing to grab a large stick from the ground should they pounce when you finally got close enough to see their faces. How peculiar - their faces were covered. The one in the yellow hoodie had a ski-mask with a frown etched onto its surface, and the one in the tan coat was donned with a white mask with feminine features.
Your eyes flicked down to their midsections - that’s where the blood came from. They’re out cold, and you confirm that by trying to get them up. No dice. Against your better judgement, you load them onto your little wagon and bring them back to the car. It wouldn’t be right for you to just… leave them to bleed all over the forest floor.
You entered back into your house around the early evening, tired from trying to drag two grown men much bigger than you into your garage and set them up so you can work on them.
“Mommy?” Your small daughter’s voice piped in as she popped her head through the door leading to the garage where you were. “Who are they?”
“Got hurt,” you replied. “Can you get me the first aid kit?”
Your little girl smiled widely and nodded before she quickly zoomed back into the house. “Make sure to get the lavender and rosemary oil too! Can you do that for me, Magnolia?” You called out.
You heard your little girl running around as if she went back to get something. She eventually came back to the door, her arms full of things she thought you needed and the things you actually needed. “Thank you so much, baby,” you said with a small smile, petting her head as she put the things down on the table for you. “Go upstairs and watch some TV for me, okay? I don’t think I want to overwhelm our guests.”
At the sound of being able to watch more spongebob, she zoomed off and allowed you to get to work.
You mentally asked the two men before you to forgive the intrusion as you lifted their shirts to get at their wounds. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen something like this before. Is that… Are those claw marks? You dab a piece of cloth with some isopropyl alcohol and move to the white masked man and get three of the four lines cleaned when he awoke. His eyes shot open and his hand was gripping painfully tight at your wrist.
“Who the hell are you?” He asked in a panic, struggling to get you off of him in his half awake state. “Where are we?”
“Woah!” You cried out as you attempted to wriggle your hand free from his grasp. “I’m just cleaning you up-”
“Where are we?” He’s rattling off questions so fast and so loud that it wakes the second one up.
Due to you not being able to hold him down as well, he was able to pounce up and pin you to the ground, ready to end your life.
“Agh- stop!” You cried out in shock. “I just wanted to patch you two up!”
The man in the ski mask looked into your eyes for any hint of lying, or deception only to find none. Still, you were a normal person getting involved with two proxies. That in itself warrants death according to their society’s rules - and the Slender Man’s will.
“Wait,” the man in the white mask sighed. “Let her finish this up. You’re bleeding out on the floor.”
On cue at his comrade’s words, Hoodie glanced down to his midsection. He was indeed bleeding out on the garage floor and by extension, you. Realizing he was in no state to even consider inflicting damage, he relented.
An awkward silence quickly built up once you were back working on them. “So… What’re your names?”
“Hoodie.”
“Masky.”
“Interesting names,” you noted as you continued to work. “I’m Reader.”
“Interesting name,” Masky mirrors.
You laugh slightly.
That wasn’t the last you saw of the two men. They left almost immediately after being patched up much to your chagrin, but came back about a week later to properly thank you.
“We noticed some spell books in your garage before we left,” Hoodie began before nodding for Masky to go to the back of the car (they stole). “One of them being florals and it looked like you had some space in the front of your house. So, we brought you some flowers.”
You move your vision from over Hoodie’s shoulder to see Masky holding planters full of flower’s you’ve never even seen before. “Oh my gods,” you said in slight surprise as Masky places the small bushes down in front of their designated spots.
“We can plant them for you - or if you don’t like them we can-”
“No, no! They’re beautiful and the front lawn needs some color,” you beamed, looking at the array of colors dotting your front lawn. “How did… Where did you even find those?”
“We know a guy,” Masky said as he went back to the car to get a shovel.
You ended up going out there to help them plant the flower bushes and spent some more time in their company while you worked.
“So, tell me about yourself,” Masky said as he began to carefully place one of the shrubs into the dirt.
“Too broad,” you teased slightly.
Masky rolled his brown eyes. “You and magick.”
“My mother practiced, now I do,” you replied as you gently scooped back some of the dirt. “Most of it is home related work, but these plants are such a big help.” You took in their sweet scent. Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen these types of flowers before anywhere. “What about you two?”
“Travelers, of some sort,” Hoodie piped in. “Never stay in one place for too long.” He glanced over to Masky to continue.
“That’s pretty much it,” Masky whistled slightly. “Used to be film students. Now we just… Go wherever the winds take us.”
From there, you began to hear stories from the two. Mostly little adventures they’d gone to, creepy towns they never wished to visit ever again, people they wished they stayed in contact with and everything and anything in between. It was actually rather nice to talk to other adults - and while they were relatively quiet about their past past, they seemed at ease talking with you about these things.
In return, you told them about other memories and anecdotes in your life. Small memories of climbing up the mountain with your mother, meeting your friends, your academic adventures and what brought you out to this part of the country.
“Wanted to get away from it all, I guess,” you said as the three of you sat on the front porch. “Figured it would be better to start again out here than face everything that had happened back there.”
Hoodie shared a look with Masky for but a moment. You hadn’t gone into detail about what happened back then, but they could somewhat fill in the lines with their experience of the world so far.
They came by plenty of times after that - sometimes together, sometimes not. Most of the time they stayed on your porch with you, chatting away about the day’s events and what would come next. You told them about your job, a teacher’s assistant to middle schoolers, and how you often passed your time. They eventually showed you their faces - and lord were they handsome - and still refused to tell you about their actual work.
“It’s dangerous, that’s all you need to know,” Hoodie had said one night while sipping a beer bottle.
Yet, they seemed to come by even more than usual when they met your darling little girl, Magnolia. Somehow, they’d managed to avoid her and her them throughout all their visits, but one afternoon near the beginning of the school year, that all changed.
She’s only 7, and the school bus often lets her out about a block from your home. You trust her enough to walk there and back (though another part of you wants to hold onto her forever and never let go).
“What time is it?” You hummed, sipping at your iced tea.
“About… 3:30, why?” Masky asked as he looked at his watch.
You immediately perked up. “She should be home soon,” you said eyes wandering from the two men on the steps with you towards the direction you knew your little girl was going to be coming from. And just like clockwork, there she was.
“Mommy!” She cried out, a large smile on her face as she began to run the rest of the way to the front steps.
“Mags!” You giggled as you maneuvered your way through the two men before hurriedly meeting her half way. “There’s my special little girl,” you laughed, taking her into your arms, picking her up and spinning her. “How was your day?” You ask, carrying her in your arms as you make it back to the front porch.
Masky and Hoodie move aside slightly as you sit back down with Magnolia on your lap.
“It was so fun! Today, we talked about bugs!”
“You did?” You asked as she nodded rapidly. “Tell me all about it while I get you something to drink and a snack, okay?” You said as you put her onto the steps before standing and opening the front door - and propping it open so you could still hear her and see her from the kitchen.
“We learned all about butterflies and what happens when they’re babies and become pretty,” Magnolia began to explain. “And then Miss Honey said we were gonna get caterpillar babies in our classroom and release them later. And then, she told us about bees and how bumbly they are-”
You listened to Magnolia go on about her lesson with a small smile as you fixed her some iced tea and apple slices. You could listen to her all day. When you failed to answer one of her questions, you heard Masky picking it back up for you.
“Hey Mommy? Why is the sky blue?”
A beat of silence because you honestly didn’t hear it.
“The atmosphere,” Masky began as he looked up at the perfectly azure sky. “You know what the states of matter are, don’t you?”
Magnolia nodded. “I do! Solid, liquid and gas,” she answered.
Masky smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Atmosphere is air and it covers the whole earth like a blanket,” he explained.
“It does?”
“Absolutely,” Hoodie chimed in.
Magnolia looked in between the two men with stars in her eyes, urging them to continue.
“The atmosphere changes the way that light from the sun reaches us,” Masky continued. “Light comes to us in wavelengths,” he moves his hand up and down like ‘waves’ to show what he means. “And those wavelengths look different depending on what they hit,” he claps his hands together, “and how long they are.”
“Do shorter wave… wavelengths show different colors?” Magnolia asks, clearly enamored in Masky’s teaching.
“Smart girl,” Masky chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair.
You finally come back from the kitchen with Magnolia’s snack and drink, more than pleased to see how well Masky and Hoodie were doing with her. Magnolia was admittedly a shy girl - she never really warmed up to people easily, especially not men given the situation with her father (who you’d rather not think about most days).
“And what about rainbows? Are those wavelengths?”
Both Hoodie and Masky laughed slightly before entertaining your daughter’s question as she sipped on her drink and bit into the apple slices. You watched with a small smile as you listened to the three talk.
After meeting Magnolia, Hoodie and Masky were more often at your house than not. And it carried on like that throughout the school year.
Masky often helped Magnolia with her science and math when you didn’t (feel like it).
“Mhm, and how many do you need to add to 5 in order to make 9?” Masky asked, eyes
glancing between your daughter and her math worksheet.
Magnolia smiled widely, “It’s 4.” She said it so confidently that you felt your heart burst from the living room.
“Good job,” Masky smiled back just as widely. “I’m sure you don’t know what you have to add to 8 to get 15, do you?”
“7!”
“Gods, you are so smart,” Masky chuckled warmly, hand once again ruffling her hair.
Hoodie was much more inclined to help with her reading and language arts skills. Seemed he had a knack for those things over math and science anyways.
“Spell bridge.”
“B-R-I-D-G-E.” Magnolia said with a grin.
Hoodie nodded. “Alright, how about… Believe?”
Magnolia furrowed her eyebrows slightly but gave a stab at it anyways. “B-E-L… I-E-V-E.” I before E, right?
“Good one. And laughter?”
“L-A-U-... F-no… G-H… T-E-R?”
“Nice job!” Hoodie complimente in an excited tone, scooping Magnolia up onto his lap making her burst into a fit of giggles. “You are seriously gonna kick everyone’s butt at the spelling bee on Friday.”
While they grew closer with your little girl, you noticed they had also grown oddly close with you as well. It came in little bouts - sometimes Masky would be cuddling with you on the couch while you watched the late night news. Hoodie would sometimes spend time with you in the garden and help when he didn’t have to - he was there just because he wanted to be with you. There were some days when they’d get you little trinkets, plants and herbs to help with your magick. Masky would even remind you of the full moon so you could put a jug out for moon water - and Hoodie would inform you of when the planets were in retrograde to potentially explain any odd behavior (remember: mundane of magickal.) They were helpful. Other times the three of you would spend the day together and eat brunch and act like your own individual family unit. And in your own unique way, you were - what with Magnolia now referring to the two men as her ‘aunt Hoodie’ and ‘uncle Masky’ much to the former’s original hesitance to accept that title.
It wasn’t just you feeling this way either, it was both of them as well. Masky was surprised to see how fast Hoodie had grown to care about you as Hoodie doesn’t really care about anything anymore. Maybe himself, definitely Masky, and definitely the other two in their group - but that’s it. To care for a human and her child… That’s admittedly out of pocket for him. They’re not sure what exactly to call it, maybe it’s love, but it’s a different kind of love. One that doesn’t have a name.
Ever since they entered your life things have been better. Life has been sweeter. Your little girl is more outgoing than ever and she’s finally coming out of her shell with not one, but two positive male role models.
And that led to now. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the stars were coming out to play. Magnolia was about to go on summer break - and the four of you had been planning on visiting the beach sometime soon. There were a lot of things to look forward to (another magical creature plus aunt Hoodie and uncle Masky tea party) being one of those things.
“Careful with the jar, Mags,” Hoodie said as he handed Magnolia a good sized mason jar to her awiting hands.
“I will!” Magnolia said before she zipped outside the backyard.
“Masky, you want anything to drink?” Hoodie called out from the kitchen as you got together the materials for s’mores.
“Lemonade, if we have it,” Masky replied.
“Good choice,” Hoodie mumbled before turning to the fridge.
After the two of you had everything you needed, you and Hoodie went out to the backyard and started to set everything up on the glass table Masky sat at. You settled into your seat as Hoodie got a fire going in the pit and when that was ready, he let it burn and took a seat at the other side of you. With Masky to your right and Hoodie to your left, you felt an odd sense of peace.
“It’s a nice night, yeah?” You hummed out in content as you watched your baby dance around with the fireflies.
“It sure is,” Hoodie agreed, hand lightly resting on top of yours.
“Ditto,” Masky smiled, arm now around your shoulders.
In the grass, Magnolia giggled as she caught fireflies, admiring how beautiful the flashes of green looked as they danced through the swaying leaves of grass.
#masky#hoodie#marble hornets#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#masky x reader#hoodie x reader#mh#reader insert#x reader#masky headcanon#hoodie headcanon#marble hornets x reader#fluff
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