#she's filled her room with plants from the greenhouse and is using them to build terrariums

[gith-zeri]

Baron's Haven pt.1

Mina Novak's Room

Felicia Aguilar's Room

[moonstrider9904]

All good things start with coffee

Chapter 1 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter

Chapter summary: On an otherwise typical day, the owners of the Coffeewick can't help but notice an enforcer standing guard outside their coffee shop.

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing. Just a cute intro chapter.

Word count: 4.4k

On the corner of Alpine Road and Reverie Lane, on the northwestern quadrant of the intersection, there was a lovely building called The Coffeewick. It had been named by its owner long before she had even laid eyes on it, long before she—and her trusted business partner—turned it into the staple it became. Before them, the building that would go on to become the Coffeewick was already a catch. With its front facing south, it overlooked Bonan Plaza, one of Piltover city’s most renowned parks filled with trees bursting with life, benches to sit and enjoy life, fountains, even monuments to some of the City of Progress’ brightest minds. Shops, boutiques, even some apartment complexes were in the area, and before it became filled with life, the Coffeewick didn’t really fit into any of these categories. It was a little building that stood there, right on the corner, that could amount to anything.

When looking at the Coffeewick between its neighboring buildings, it certainly looked small. It had merely two stories—two apartments in the top story, each with one bedroom, a small kitchen and restroom and just enough room to make it the coziest home one could conceive. The roof of the Coffeewick wasn’t regularly used for anything other than the greenhouse, a valuable asset to those who lived in the little building, and in the remaining space of the rooftop where chairs and a table, and a series of warm fairy lights above the makeshift outdoor living room for the nights in which the Coffeewick’s two residents would decide to spend some time up there. The rooftop rarely saw the presence of outsiders.

But the ground level of the Coffeewick was the crown jewel, the dream that had been given hours of work and planning and love until it became a reality. It was a cute little coffee shop run by a human woman and a Yordle, both avidly passionate about their place in the world. The walls were a light cream color, creating a fitting canvas for the decor placed around it, mainly revolving around delicate green foliage and the same warm fairy lights wherever they could be placed, from the dark oak furniture to the edges where the walls met the ceiling, even flower pots dangling from the roof. Shelves were placed along the back wall where both owners kept a collection of their favorite cups, and at times, they added seasonal plants and decorations there as well.

These shelves, of course, ended where the counter began, the same place that originated the magic—and science—of the brewery. The counter was of the same dark oak as the shelves, tables, and chairs, contrasting with the floor that was a wood of a slightly lighter tone, balancing out the roof and delightfully bringing out the green plants and the lights, as though to emphasize the life that the Coffeewick had, that was breathed into it. The outer face of the counter was simple, with an intuitive sequence where a visitor would arrive, order, pay, and receive their heart’s desire.

But at the back, the main attraction was the coffee machine, designed and perfected by the owner herself throughout years of study, capable of brewing coffee in different volumes, temperatures, and consistencies, roasting and grinding beans, and it also contained an attaché for frothing milk. The machine itself took up almost half of the space along the back wall of the counter, after which there was an assortment of utensils, a small oven, a rack of syrups, sugars, and spices, followed by pastry racks, and finally a refrigerator. The logo of the Coffeewick was painted on the empty wall space above all the equipment, and above it was a hand-written menu on a chalkboard containing all the different beverages that were available for purchase as well as any pastries that would be available for the day. The menu had doodles of flowers and stars in any empty spaces, just for the sake of a little more magic.

The owner and head barista of the Coffeewick smiled gently as she poured steamed milk into a mug to create a piece of art with the drink she’d just brewed. A graduate of the prestigious Piltover Academy, Nea had dedicated years of study into the arts and sciences of coffee. What had started as a simple beverage to cope with long periods of school work evolved into the little thing that made life most enjoyable, and Nea harnessed her knowledge and dedication into designs, money saved, even the construction of the coffee maker that made all the beverages in the Coffeewick. While it was her dream and her vision, Nea hadn’t solidified the Coffeewick entirely on her own.

Nea’s partner, Blu, was a Yordle shorter than most and with the feisty spirit that was signature for her species. The little Yordle was well over a hundred years old, and she had seen many things in her time in the Yordle homeland known as Bandle City, from magical dreamscapes to portal catastrophes. A century of being a knitter and a tidal wave of adventures that followed made Blu long for seeing more around Runeterra, and when she parted for Piltover, she had nearly nothing to her name, and no hopes of amounting to anything in the near future. That had changed when she met Nea.

On that fairly typical day, while Nea focused on brewing the drinks that the customers were ordering, Blu exited the back room of the Coffeewick holding a tray of fresh pastries. She placed it on the pastry rack at the back of the counter and glanced over at Nea on the other side.

“This batch of Poro Cookies is the last one of the day,” Blu called.

With her concentration unbroken, Nea nodded in understanding at Blu’s statement. Making the appropriate twisting motions with her wrist as she poured the milk, Nea finished the foamy drawing of a swan on the surface of the drink she’d created—a traditional flat white made with a slightly darker roast than usual, one of her favorites. She called the customer’s name and set it on the round wooden surface at the edge of the counter where customers picked up their orders. Letting out a little exhale of satisfaction, she tucked a strand of her short black wavy hair behind her ear and moved onto the next order.

On her side of the counter, Blu tapped the knee of the young man who was working the cash register. Like all the additional employees of the Coffeewick, he was a student at the Academy in his last semester who worked there to earn some money and experience pre-graduation, a need for many like him whom the Coffeewick also wanted to help. Once he graduated and got a better job, he’d move on and let another student take his place, and so on. He, like the other part-timers, enjoyed working at the Coffeewick—it wasn’t just the peaceful ambience and delightful smell of coffee that made it shine, but the feeling of having a safety net that it emulated in him and his fellow Academy students was rivaled by only a few other initiatives in Piltover.

“You’re free to go,” Blu told him. “I’ll take over until Lily shows up.”

He looked down at Blu and smiled as he bent over and pulled a stool for her to climb on. “Thanks, I just need to talk to Nea and then I’m off.”

“Yup, take care,” Blu said as she got on top of the stool and was finally able to reach the cash register to keep the line going. “May I take your order?”

The next person in line was a lady who looked like she was in her sixties. She was well-dressed in black and white clothes that looked expensive, and she crowned her head with a black hat that had a large, poofy burgundy feather adorning it. The lady was expecting a human to take her order—you know, the same one she’d just seen behind the cash register—but instead, she was met with a little Yordle. Yordles weren’t all that common in Piltover, even if recent years had brought more of them to the city, so it was still a surprise for a Piltovan citizen to come across one. And this one in particular, with her blue fur and round brown eyes, her short brown hair in a bob cut, her round ears that poked from beneath the hair and her round little snout, knitted beige sweater and brown knit cowl, this little Yordle was just so round and fuzzy that it looked like a child’s teddy!

“Yes, I’ll have a… uh…” The lady trailed off, her eyes sparkling as her demure smile expanded into a grin from ear to ear. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute!”

“Ma’am, this is a coffee shop,” Blu replied in a kindness-infused deadpan, as though her words were previously rehearsed. “If you wish to express appreciation for the staff’s cuteness, I suggest doing it in the form of a generous tip.” Blu gestured at the little jar next to the cash register machine and directed a bright smile at the lady.

“Of course, of course,” the lady said, pressing a hand to her cheek as the other one looked through her purse and pulled out a hefty coin, proceeding to add it to the jar. “Here you go, dear. Now, could I please have the toffee caramel cappuccino to go?”

“Yes, ma’am, and thank you for the tip,” Blu smiled and proceeded to charge the lady for her beverage. “Toffee caramel cappuccino to go!”

“Coming up,” Nea called from the other side of the counter as she was finishing up the next milk drink in the queue.

One more coffee was done and delivered, and it was time to go for the next. This next drink was a large dark brewed in the Moka method—that one always took longer to brew, so Nea set up the Moka to brew with the cup underneath it while working on the next one in parallel, a simple, straightforward latte. And as Nea divided her focus between the two drinks, she was able to see from the corner of her eyes that her cashier was approaching her timidly.

“Um… Miss Nea?” He said.

“What can I do for you, Donnie?” Nea responded, glancing over at him through her glasses before focusing on steaming milk again. “Your shift’s over, right?”

“Yes,” Donnie replied, feeling a tad less tense. “Listen, um… I was wondering, and I’m sorry for not asking sooner, but… finals are coming up, and I’ll need to buy a whole bunch of supplies for my projects. I need my paycheck early, maybe not even the whole check, just whatever’s appropriate for the days since my last one… could you maybe…?”

Keeping the cup of milk at a steady angle for it to continue steaming, Nea looked at Donnie again, her big brown eyes soft on him. “Oh, I remember finals seasons. The sooner you can get your supplies, the better. Stores run out quickly.”

“Yes, that’s what I fear,” Donnie sighed. “And now that I pay for all my food and I got the bright idea of adopting a dog—”

Nea let out a smooth, delicate laugh, stopping Donnie’s nervous rambling in its tracks.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t need to be afraid to ask me for things you need. The paychecks are in the backroom, just let me finish steaming this milk and I’ll go get it.”

Donnie directed a bright smile at Nea. “Thanks so much. You’re saving my life right now.”

“Not a problem,” Nea said, putting down the milk and quickly cleaning the steamer with a damp cloth and a second of blowing pure steam onto an empty cup. “Be right back.”

Having mastered the art of wandering around her coffee shop, Nea went to the back room for the paycheck and returned to see Donnie finishing up and delivering the drinks she left paused. She smiled at the sight—acts of kindness like that one would always live in her memory. She then walked up behind Donnie and handed him the envelope with his check, and the curve on her lips widened slightly.

“Thanks for covering those drinks,” Nea acknowledged. “Here’s your check, and if you need a raise, just let me know.”

“Thanks so much, Nea,” Donnie unconsciously gave a slight bow in her direction. “I don’t need the raise, I just really needed this to get all the stuff I need.”

“Alright, well, good luck with all your finals,” Nea smiled at him.

“Thanks!” Donnie cheerfully expressed his gratitude again, and he pranced his way out of the Coffeewick to leave Nea to continue her work.

Nea’s eyes lingered on Donnie as he made his way out, her mind temporarily wandering on a number of different things ranging from her own memories as an Academy student short on cash and the writing of a mental note to motivate Donnie—and the rest of the intern staff—more over the next few weeks. But just as Donnie’s figure was disappearing into the crowd of people outside, her gaze got caught in a blue uniform that shielded teal skin. It was a male enforcer whose profile faced Nea, and his posture was strictly straight, almost regal, with his fingers interlaced behind his back. The sight was fairly standard except for the obvious fact that this enforcer was a Vastaya, and the sound of Donnie walking out of the Coffeewick as well as his figure walking past the enforcer caused him to angle his body enough for him to fully face the Coffeewick’s entrance.

When he did, the enforcer's gaze traveled through the entrance of the Coffeewick and landed on Nea only for her to notice it was the most beautiful shade of aquamarine. With wide, brown eyes unable to hide their appeal at the most intricate details they were able to pick up on even in that second-long glance, from the gills above his jawline to the delicate fins that framed his eyes, and the way his angular features looked so incredibly soft, Nea stared back at him and felt her surroundings fade to white noise. Though as the door of the Coffeewick closed itself and cast a sheet of wood and glass between her and the enforcer, Nea noticed him turning around and regaining his post standing watch outside.

Even after Nea was no longer able to see that striking ocean gaze, she remained motionless as she replayed the image of it in her mind. Seconds passed her in her daze, forgetting the queue of orders and the smell of coffee that would, on any other day, be the thing to entrance her senses. Her stare stood focused on the blue uniform as if she could telepathically beckon him to turn around again, maybe inspire him to come inside and order a cup or two, but no such thing happened.

"Hey, head barista," Blu called from the cash register. "Get brewing!"

"Sorry!" Nea gave a hop, startled out of her daze, and she got back to brewing and filling orders as if nothing had distracted her in the first place.

Blu was just about to get off her stool with which she covered the cash register since Lily, another Coffeewick worker, had just arrived. As Blu was moving her stool over to the side, her gaze wandered over to Nea with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by her partner's sudden—and uncommon—lapsus.

"What was that about?" Blu asked Nea.

"Oh, nothing," Nea replied as she added whipped cream to the toffee caramel cappuccino she was finishing.

"Your cheeks are burning red," Blu deadpanned.

"Don't you have a tray of cookies to take out of the oven?" Nea glanced over at Blu.

"And now you're getting defensive, which means not even you understand whatever's got you in a pickle," Blu climbed onto a chair behind the counter. "You were looking outside, what happened?"

"Nothing," Nea said.

"A ghost from your past?" Blu teased. "An ex lover you left in the dead of the night?"

"No, and I've never done that," Nea answered as she delivered the beverage and headed toward the coffee machine to brew the next. In that time, Blu looked through the glass doors and windows over to the outside, and her Yordle eyes were able to catch irregular sights far quicker than others.

"Enforcers? Out here?" Blu wondered.

"Yeah," said Nea.

"Why?"

"I think I read in a newspaper somewhere that it's just a council initiative," Nea replied almost cautiously. "Just to keep people and businesses safe, etc, etc."

"So... if you're not a fugitive but you're nervous about an enforcer at our door-" Blu stopped herself and giggled. "Ooooh, I see. "

"No, you don't," Nea tried to dismiss.

"Poppycock," Blu laughed and stood on her paw toes, trying to get a look at the enforcer. "Woah, he's green!"

"Blu!" Nea scolded.

"Hey, come on, you just shouted the color of my fur," the Yordle teased and looked at the enforcer again with more attention. "What do you know? A Vastaya. Didn't know you were into that."

"Cut it out," Nea couldn't help but laugh, albeit nervously.

"Aww, you have a little crush," Blu smirked.

"Hey, I know that look in your eyes," Nea answered. "You may as well have little flames in them."

"Do you want me to go out there and tell him you like him?" Blu said with that same look of mischief in her teddy-like face.

"What I want is for you to get off my case," Nea frowned.

"No you don't, you love me," Blu crossed her arms and frowned back.

"Right now, I could think of a few other emotions I feel towards you," Nea smirked.

"You'd be lost without me," Blu challenged.

In response, Nea proceeded to do the mature, grown-up thing and stuck her tongue out at Blu. The Yordle instantly stuck her tongue out too in response and, after the two shared a laugh, Nea paused the drink she was brewing to help Blu off the chair.

"Fine, I'll go somewhere else and leave you to pine for your hot Vastaya enforcer man on your own," Blu laughed, looking back up at Nea over her shoulder. "Hey, here's an idea. You should totally make him a cup of coffee and take it to him, and be all girly and googly and all like 'thank you for your service' or something like that."

Nea straightened up, pausing in her tracks. "That's not a bad idea."

"What?" Blu's teasing became concern as she turned around and faced Nea fully. "Hey, I was kidding."

"No, you're right, that would be perfect!" Nea's face lit up with a smile. "Let me finish up these next couple of orders. Do you mind taking over the queue while I head out there?"

"You're serious," Blu stared blankly. "You're actually gonna do it."

"After these, it's just two lattes, one for here and one to go," Nea instructed. "It shouldn't take me any longer than that. What should I take him? Latte? Cappuccino? Flat white? Black coffee? Creamer on the side? Sugar?"

"Whatever Nea, just pick," Blu grunted as she pushed the chair over to the coffee machine, figuring she was gonna need the boost if she was to take over for Nea. Nea walked over to help with the chair and put Blu up on it again, earning her a frown from the Yordle. "I'd go with a Red Eye, maybe you'll scare him off for good."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Nea grinned. "It was your idea."

"If this is your way of teaching me to shut up next time, it's working," Blu deadpanned.

"You don't mean that," Nea smirked. "You love me."

"And now I'm eating my words from earlier," Blu said. "Yippee."

Despite Blu's protests, she obliged and brewed the next couple of drinks in the queue while Nea finished up her current orders. As for what beverage she would deliver to the enforcer, she leaned back on her experience and went for the most balanced recipe for a latte she knew, one with good coffee flavor and creamy milk that added just the right amount of sweetness—perfect for nearly anyone who favored either the sweet or the bitter side of the craft. Nea was careful in her movements, deliberate in each part of the process from the milk steaming to the pouring of the espresso, and even if she was placing it in a disposable cup with a lid, she still made a delicate flower latte art with the foam on top—a heart probably would have been too obvious, but no small part of Nea wanted to make it that way. The flower seemed like a good option for now.

With the beverage done, she reached for a packet of sugar, a wooden mixer, and a couple napkins, Nea walked out from behind the counter and made her way across the Coffeewick, heading for the door. She stepped outside, relished in the chilly fresh air, and walked forward with her gaze set on the enforcer.

She stopped. It only dawned on her then that she didn't know what she was going to say, but on top of that, she was about to make a total fool of herself for all she knew. She'd had so much fun brewing the coffee and thinking about the perfect outcome that now that she was out there, part of her wanted to run and hide. He hadn't turned around yet—if she was quick, she could abort the plan and get away with it, have that latte herself. It was sure to be a good cup of coffee, she'd made it, after all. Nea became lost in her thoughts of how she could use a good latte right about now to regain a grip on reality, and at that moment, the enforcer felt her presence behind him and calmly turned around.

His aquamarine gaze nearly ended Nea. Up close, she was able to see much more of the detail in his physique. The fins that framed his eyes were paired with markings of a slightly lighter shade of green, and the inner corners of his eyelids as well as the sides of the bridge of his nose adopted a shade that more closely resembled human flesh. The helmet that he wore concealed his eyebrows and any other details above, but even under it, Nea could observe the shape of his ears pointing upward. In the sunlight, the golden details of his enforcer uniform appeared to be glowing in contrast with the rich blue color of the fabric, and aside from being motionless, Nea was now also rendered speechless in the presence of such beauty. Even if she wanted to appear cool and collected, she knew right then that she would miserably fail at any attempts to do so.

As he looked at her, his gaze appeared to soften, and the detail that dealt the final blow for Nea and made her weak in the knees was the way the fins around his eyes flickered, like a wave from inside to out, as his eyes widened slightly in attention. When he blinked, Nea noticed he had a second eyelid acting as a membrane that closed on a horizontal plane underneath his main eyelids—ust another thing that added to Nea's inability to speak—and he remained quiet, expectant of whatever she was about to do, until his gaze finally traveled over to the cup of coffee she was holding.

He met her gaze again. "Can I help you, miss?"

God, Nea thought to herself. Even his voice was irresistible, it was almost unfair. It was deep and rich, and when he spoke, he had a thick, elegant accent that made her yearn to hear him endlessly. Thoughts and insecurities rushed through her mind, things like how could someone that gorgeous still be single, or how could someone as beautiful as him pay attention to her, but she was surprised at herself for being able to put those intrusive thoughts aside and instead lifted the cup of coffee, showing it to him. As for what she would say—and she had reached a point where she really should say something—Nea opted to use the very words Blu had suggested in her earlier mischief.

"Thank you for your service," Nea said softly and offered the coffee to him.

His gaze softened even more, and slowly, he reached for the cup, almost hesitating to take it from her. He met her eyes again, and the hint of a smile curved her lips.

"It's not necessary," he uttered, his voice much softer than it had been before.

"Oh, I know, I just..." Nea trailed off, unable to stop smiling at him. "I wanted to."

Finally, he gave her a fuller smile. "Thank you."

Nea's smile grew as well to the point where she nearly giggled. When he took the coffee, Nea used her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, averting her gaze from him before meeting his eyes again. Lost for words again, Nea gave a little nod and turned around, walking back towards the Coffeewick until she eventually disappeared into it.

Inside, Nea remained for a second at the doorstep smiling at herself, and then she went back behind the counter where she was needed. There, Blu was just finishing up a couple of orders, and as soon as she laid eyes on Nea, the spunky grin returned.

"Well?" Blu said. "Did you crash and burn and stumble with your words?"

"No, I..." Nea smiled. "I actually think that went really well."

"What's his name?" Blu asked.

"Not a clue," Nea replied, her smile still firm in place.

Blu, in turn, facepalmed. "You're hopeless. Alright, I'm done here. Take over your coffee bar."

"He is so pretty," Nea pouted with a hand over her chest. "He is seriously so pretty I kind of want to cry."

"And yet you don't know his name," Blu mentioned.

"Yeah..." Nea's smile faded a bit. "I messed that up."

"I'll let it slide," Blu smirked. "People make dumb mistakes when they're in loooove."

"Oh, be quiet, you," Nea chuckled.

Blu walked off in the direction making indiscreet kissing noises the whole way until she disappeared into the kitchen. In the meantime, Nea got back to work and noticed the way her hands were trembling, but she figured she would still be able to make coffee even with a shaky hand and rosy cheeks.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

Next chapter ->

[five-rivers]

Daedalus

@regular-dog Hello! I am your holiday truce gifter this year! I hope you enjoy this labyrinth-themed fic. Happy New Year!

.

Only three years in, and it was already impossible to tell how big Amity Park was.  Normal methods of surveying didn’t work.  Physical maps were either always right or always wrong, and sometimes both at once.  Driving across the city at a constant speed didn’t help, either.  The outgoing trip and the return trip never seemed to match, and there simply weren’t enough one-way streets in Amity Park for that to be the answer to the problem.  

Asking the residents didn’t help, either.  They couldn’t even agree on how big the city they lived in was.  Some of them acted like Amity Park was the second coming of Chicago, others expressed confusion when Amity Park was referred to as anything but a small town.  

(The census data was almost worse.)

But no matter what version of Amity a particular resident believed they lived in, there were always similarities.  There was always Casper High, and its Ravens, and every student went there, and learned from Mr. Lancer, and heard the rumors about Sydney Poindexter.  There was always the Nasty Burger, and Valerie Gray working one of the many distasteful jobs that the place had to offer.  There was always Amity Park Park, confusingly named and full of even more confusing paths, whether it was a city park or a county park, or something else altogether.

There was always Fentonworks, rising tall and strange from a small, ordinary neighborhood.

There was a heaviness there, around that particular building.  A weight that drew in other things, that twisted.  It was the heart of a labyrinth of streets, of old roads and new, of forest paths and disused hiking trails.  It was the heart of Amity Park.

And it should be said that, at the heart of any labyrinth, there was a monster.  

And it should be said that, at the threshold of every labyrinth, there was a princess.

And it should be said that the one thing that every labyrinth waits for is a hero.  

.  

Samantha Manson wound golden string around her fingers, thinking.  It glowed faintly in the dark of her room, like the thinnest, purest beam of sunlight cast through morning mist and a thick canopy of leaves overhead.  

However, her eyes didn’t linger on it.  Instead, she looked out the window over her– garden– conservatory– greenhouse– private park– the place where she went to grow plants, and be among them, that may or may not have changed in nature and size while she was looking.  Which may or may not have had many natures and sizes.  

She closed her eyes.  Insight was useful, as vital as the blood in her veins and the lightning in her nerves, but it had its drawbacks.  

When she opened them again, a hedge maze stood dark and tempting beneath the light of a moon that should not be full and should not be there and had never been that big, in any case.  The lights of Amity- rising high with skyscrapers or low to the ground and scattered among farmhouses– laid beyond it.  

In her hands, the string hummed, as if it had been held taught and plucked.  A single, clear note filled the air.  

“Do you think it will work?” she asked.  

There shouldn’t have been anyone in her room, and there wasn’t.  But her nearest neighbors could be five miles from the walls of her home or five feet, and she rarely spoke to them.  The distance between friends was greater, but also infinitely less.  

Tucker looked up from his computer, which sat at his desk, in his own room, in his own house, the light from the moon shining in from the window behind him.  His glasses reflected the pale, bluish light of his computer screen.  The wheels of his desk chair rolled across the carpet of his room - so different from hers - with a squeak.  

“You’re not getting cold feet now,” he said.  It wasn’t so much a question as an exclamation.  

Sam sniffed.  “Of course not.  But I’m not the one taking the biggest risk, am I?”

There was a third room.  This one dark and starry.  The glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to every available surface were normal.  The patterns they were in were not.  Nor were the eyes that stared out from beneath star-spangled bedsheets.  Nor was the moon, gleaming from windows stationed on either side of the bed.

“I’m not sure if it actually matters if it works,” said the owner of those eyes, blinking slowly.  “I mean, if it works the way it’s supposed to work.  We’ll just go back to plan A if it doesn’t.”

“No offense, Danny, but plan A sucked,” said Tucker.  

“How am I not supposed to take offense to that?” whined Danny.  “Plan A is fine.  It’s a normal plan.  I know my city.”  The last was said with a casual but deep possessiveness.

“Plan A wasn’t even really a plan,” said Sam.  “Your plan was to just fly in and find them, never mind all the other things that are happening.”

“That’s not so different from this plan,” protested Danny.  “It’s basically the same.  It’s just the how that’s different.”

“Pretty big how, though,” said Tucker.  “And I thought you liked this plan.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Danny.  “I’m just saying, I’m just saying that even if it doesn’t work, we won’t be any worse off than we were at the beginning, before, you know.  The research.”  He pointed vaguely in the direction of his window.  

Somehow, Sam knew that he was, in fact, pointing at the stack of thick books sitting on her desk.  Only, instead of pointing at them across the there-not-there division between their rooms, he was pointing in their true direction, across the streets and forests of Amity Park.  

The covers of the books shouldn’t have been legible in the darkness.  Sam could read them anyway.  Greek mythology.  Sympathetic magic.  Recurrence.  Narrative causality.  Daedalus, Icarus, Theseus, Ariadne, Asterion.

Four days ago, New Athens High School had sent a bus bearing the fourteen members of their track team and their coach to a meet in Elmerton.  On the way back, the driver had made a wrong turn, knifing straight through the heart of Amity.  The bus, the driver, and the coach had come out the other side.  No one knew what had happened to the track team.  

Danny had spent three of those days looking for them.  Amity Park had spent those same three days winding itself more tightly than the ball of string sitting on Sam’s desk.  Whether it was downtown, or the forest, or the suburbs, the part of Amity New Athens’ bus had passed through was a maze.  

A labyrinth.  

They’d thrown themselves into research, then, begging for information from their allies.  Or, rather, from Danny’s allies.  Most of them, with the exception of Dora, were there for him more than for the rest of them.  Pandora was the one who had finally noticed the connections, the links with old stories, the resonance.  

There was a labyrinth.  There were sacrifices.  Other roles–

“Or, if you don’t want to leave it, you could send Tucker in,” said Danny, shrugging slightly.  “If it doesn’t work with just me.  You know.”

Sam’s fingers slipped.  

Sam was the obvious choice for the role of princess.  Danny was the obvious choice for the role of hero.  

He should have been, anyway.  

“Hence why I’m asking if you think it’ll work,” said Sam, sharply.  

“I hope it’ll work.”

Sam huffed.  “Not what I’m asking.”

“It won’t hurt to try.”

“It might,” said Sam.  “The monster dies at the end of the story.  The princess is abandoned.  Even Theseus doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“And we aren’t those characters.  It isn’t as if Tucker is going to cut my head off.”  Again, Danny waved in Tucker’s true direction, rather than across the emptiness of his room.  “We’re the ones making the decisions.  We’re just using the stories for– For narrative clout.  Or however you described it.”

“Danny…”

“It’ll be fine.  I mean,” he looked up at her with those too-bright eyes, the rest of his face black with shadows, “if you’re having second thoughts, it’s fine.  We can try something else.”

“I’m not having second thoughts.”  Sam began to unwind the string from around her fingers, wrapping it around the rest of the ball.  The maze outside her window had become a winding garden path, and the neighbors were once again nearby.  

Tucker cleared his throat.  “First thing in the morning, then?  We ride at dawn and all that?”

“Before dawn would probably be better, honestly,” said Sam.  

Danny sighed.  “I’ll set my alarm clock.”

.

It might have been neater to enter the maze in Sam’s backyard, or to start from the spiraling center that was Fentonworks, but that wasn’t where the bus had disappeared.  The bus had disappeared going through downtown Amity Park.  

Well.  Insofar as the bus had disappeared in any particular location.  And insofar as Amity Park had a downtown.  

The lack of permanence of place made discussing things like this somewhat difficult.  

Still.  At the moment, there was a downtown.  A historical shopping district, as a matter of fact.  As he walked down the sidewalk in the crisp, gray, predawn light, Danny could feel beneath his feet a hum.  The shopping district here was the mainstreet of small town Amity, even as skyscrapers loomed overhead, and the layers felt real enough for Danny to reach out and rub them between his fingers.  

(They weren’t really, but they felt like it.)

He stopped in front of an alley that smelled of cinnamon and sea salt.  Here, the layers parted, and you could slip between them, into the interstices and forbidden places of Amity Park.  

“Is this the place?” asked Tucker.  

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I think so.”  He motioned them to the mouth of the alley, where they’d be covered by shadows and next to unnoticeable by those who were firmly in any one version of Amity Park.  “Sam?”

She teased out the end of the golden string and cast it towards Danny.  As it flew through the air, it twisted and knotted itself before falling over Danny’s head.  The loops shrunk around his neck, creating a narrow golden collar.  

Danny raised his hand to touch it and made a face.  “It’s tight,” he said.  

“Sorry,” said Sam, glaring at the ball of string as if it had betrayed her.  “I don’t–”

“It’s fine,” said Danny, waving it off.  “Just unexpected.”

“Right,” said Tucker, stepping forward.  “Your sword, Theseus.”  He handed Danny a Fenton invention that had a passing resemblance to a lightsaber.

Danny rolled his eyes and took the small cylinder.  “Thanks.  But don’t call me that.”

“Hey, that’s the story we’re trying to tell.”

“We’ll give it a tug if we run out of string,” said Sam.  

“Mm,” said Danny.  “Well.  Might have to give it more than one.  Don’t let me drag you in.”

Sam snorted.  “What, like you drag us into everything else?”

“Seriously.  Just let me go if I start pulling too hard.”

“No way,” said Tucker.  “We’ll just tie you onto some building or something.”

“I have been known to bring down buildings.”

“Well, don’t,” said Sam.  

“Wow.  No sympathy here, I see.”

“Nope,” said Sam and Tucker together.  

“Now go save the tourists,” said Sam, pushing him forward.

“They’re not really tourists,” said Danny.  But even so, he stepped across the line and into the gap.  

Into the labyrinth.  

.

The in-between spaces of Amity Park did not immediately look like they were the in-between spaces of Amity.  Danny sometimes liked to imagine that they were what Amity Park used to look like, before it became a dozen different, mutually exclusive places.  That had to be impossible, though.  There was too much, too many different things, afterimages and fantasies and illusions.  

People walked on the streets, and cars drove, but they were transparent, projections from the layers of Amity immediately bordering this space.  Sometimes, they walked through each other, not noticing at all.  

Danny still flinched when it looked like cars were about to run into one another, and let out a breath of relief when they instead seemed to phase through each other.  

So he walked.  

He walked, and as he walked, the road began to change.  He began to change.  Facades paled.  Grecian columns reached up the sides of skyscrapers and ranch homes.  Brick turned to marble.  Danny’s t-shirt and jeans slowly, gently, became a chiton and chlamys, trimmed in red.  The Fenton Saber became a sword of green-tinted bronze, strapped to a belt around his waist.  His shoes became sandals, laced up to his knees.  

It wasn’t the first time Danny had worn clothing like this.  He did visit Pandora.  But he’d never worn it in Amity Park.  It was a little embarrassing.  The ancient Greeks’ idea of underwear was… lacking, in Danny’s opinion.  But it wasn’t as if anyone here could see him.  

The act of walking here also felt strange, and Danny couldn’t understand why this was needed.  Not really.  Not the act, not the ritual.  By virtue of his nature, he could duck in and out of anywhere in Amity whenever he wanted.  Mostly.  At least, he could find places to duck in and out whenever he wanted.  

He should have been able to find the missing students without any problem.  

But he hadn’t.  

And he still wasn’t finding them.  There was no pull.  No indication of what direction he should go, what direction he could find them in.  

Danny sighed, and the sky above boiled with stars.  

He looked up, not having expected that, then shrugged and continued to walk.  Things here were strange.

There were words on the walls, now, carved into the marble alongside window displays for cell phones and stationary.  Ἀστερίων, Ἀριάδνη, Θησεύς.  He traced Ἀριάδνη with his fingers.  It sparked gold, the same color as the string around Danny’s neck.  

And then the string flexed.  Pulled.  Spooled forward, winding into a ball in front of Danny.  A short thread was thrown off of the rapidly spinning ball and settled on Danny’s head before solidifying into something heavy and cold.

(Elsewhere, the end of the string tears itself out of Sam’s hand, disappearing into the rift between.)

“Oh,” said Danny.  He bit his lip and closed his eyes, and mentally apologized to his friends for worrying them.  “Theseus was from Athens.  Ariadne wasn’t just rich, she had authority over Crete.  We had the roles wrong.”

(Not that Danny really wanted authority over Amity Park.  That… just wasn’t his thing.  He didn’t want to be in charge.  He just wanted to protect.)

But this meant…  He needed to find one of the New Athens kids and get them to be Theseus.  

He didn’t want to do that.  He was here to rescue them, not to force them to rescue themselves.  And… iIf he could find one of them, couldn’t he find the others?  Finding them was the problem he’d started with.  If he could find them, he could bring them out.  

He stumbled as the section of string wrapped around his throat tightened.  That actually hurt!

Then it loosened and Danny took a deep breath.  

Narrative weight, right.  They were already trying this story.  Changing it or aborting it halfway would have consequences.  Ones that Danny didn’t want to deal with.  

He swallowed.  He couldn’t help but remember that in the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, many people, many Athenians, had died before Theseus had finally defeated the Minotaur.  When it was Danny in the role of Theseus, that hadn’t been a concern.  He was certain he could fight any monster, any ghost in the role of the Minotaur.  

But some random kid from New Athens?  One who had probably never seen a ghost, and who had been stuck here for days?  

That… that he wasn’t at all confident about.  

Sam had been right to be wary of the risks.  It was different, when someone else was facing them.  

He rolled the ball between his hands, feeling it over.  Power thrummed between his fingers, brighter and sharper than before.  A thin stripe of gold ran down the sidewalk, twisting over on itself and turning away from the main street.  

Danny sighed, and started to follow.  

.

Danica was starting to panic.  

One moment, she’d been on the bus, falling asleep after a difficult meet despite how risky it was to fall asleep anywhere near Georgie and his so-called ‘artistic impulses.’  The next thing she knew, she was waking up on a sidewalk in some kind of nightmare city.  A nightmare city full of things that looked almost like people but were transparent and walked right through her as if she weren’t there.  

She didn’t know how long she’d been here, trying to figure out how she’d gotten here, where the bus was, where everything else was, but it felt like hours, at least.  She was starting to get hungry.  

She was starting to wonder if she’d gone crazy.  Or if this was what it was like to be dead.  And that was before the buildings started to melt into weird, semi-Greek-Revival messes.  

It was weird here, and she hated it.  She wanted to go home.  She wanted her mom.  She wanted to quit the track team and never have to deal with anything like this ever again.  

“Hello?” called a soft voice.  

She whipped around.  Up until now, this place had been eerily quiet.  

Standing just a few feet from her was a boy, one who could have stepped out of a history textbook.  He was wearing something like a cape, and a Greek-style tunic, white trimmed in red.  Tangled in his hair was a thin, golden circlet.  But the strangest thing about him was the ball of glowing golden string in his hand.  One end of it was wrapped around his neck.  

“You–!” said Danica, suddenly more furious than frightened.  “Did you bring me here?  Why?”

The boy shook his head.  “I didn’t bring you here.  Actually, I’m hoping to help you get out.  You and the rest of your teammates.”  

“They– They’re here, too?  And the coach–?”

“No, just your teammates,” said the boy.  He made a face.  “You guys kind of… Ran into a story.”

“A what?” demanded Danica, incredulous.  She’d also, incidentally, started to back away from the boy.  

“A story.  Have you heard of Theseus and the Minotaur?”

.

“What if I don't want to do this?” asked the girl, after Danny had finished explaining.  “What if I can’t do this?”

Danny stared at her, a bit baffled.  The thing about being a ghost, even half a ghost, the thing about thinking like a ghost… Sometimes it was hard to wrap his head around other perspectives.  Especially when his friends, the only people he really talked to, were just as eager to jump in and help as he was.  

He hadn't wanted to make anyone risk themselves.  He wanted to bring them to safety without that.  He also hadn't expected that anyone would just… not want to help.

“Well, I suppose… I suppose you could follow me until I found one of your classmates who could?” he said.  “Although… I’m not sure if we can do that with this story.  It might be that I have to find someone alone and then they find everyone…  In which case you’d just have to wait for them.  Speaking of which, how long has this been for you?  On the outside, it’s been a few days, but you look a little too good for that.”

“I– What?  Days?  I haven’t been here for days.”

“Not from your perspective, maybe.  Time is weird.  Even without all this…”  He waved his hand, trying to indicate ghost weirdness in general.  “... stuff, even with just the things we can look at scientifically, it’s still relative.  Right now, you’re basically in a dimensional pocket.  Pocket dimension?  Whatever.  The point is, is time running at different rates really that strange, comparatively?  At least, it made it so that you didn’t starve before me and my friends were able to figure this out.”  He raised the ball of golden string, ignoring how the movement pulled on his neck.  “Right?”

The girl gave him a ‘why are you using science-fiction terms in what is clearly a fantasy scenario’ look.  At least, that’s how Danny chose to interpret it.  

He sighed.  “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Danica,” she said, then looked angry at herself and shrugged.  “Or Dani, I guess.”

“Huh, small world,” said Danny.  “That’s my sister’s name, too.”  Not to mention his.  Maybe Theseus’s story wasn’t the only one being echoed, with a coincidence like that.  

The girl continued to stare at him, this time with a ‘why the heck are you bringing that up while I’m having a crisis’ look.  Probably.  Danny tended to make a similar expression from time to time.  Usually when the ghosts he fought started having lovers’ quarrels in the middle of a fight.  

“So,” he said, awkwardly.  “You can come with me, of course, just to… test out what will happen?”

“Oh!” said Danica, suddenly.  “Just– Just give me that!”  She held out her hands for the ball of string.  

Danny beamed, and passed it to her.  It glowed even brighter.

“Now what?” she asked, staring at it nervously.  

“Now, you need this,” Danny said, taking off the sword and holding it out to her, hilt first.  “And then you search for your friends, and when you find them…”  He pinched a length of the string between the finger and thumb of her free hand.  “You follow this back out.”

Danica was much more reluctant to take the sword than the string.  But that was fine.  One of the two was for holding things together, the other was for taking things apart.  Danny knew which was easier, and which he was more comfortable with.  

“That's it.  Remember, it's just the members of your track team, okay?  The coach and the bus driver got out.”

“Okay,” said Danica.  She took a deep, steadying breath.  “Okay.  I can do this.”

Danny nodded encouragingly.  “Yes,” he said, “definitely.”

.

Danny stepped out of the in-between, back into the alley he'd left Sam and Tucker in.  Except, it wasn't an alley anymore, but a thin dirt path between hedges.  

He was immediately tackled.  

“We thought we'd lost you!” said Sam.  Then she pulled back and examined him closely before looking pointedly behind him.  “Where're the track kids?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well.  In the story, Theseus is from Athens, remember?”

Sam groaned.  “They're having to do it themselves?”

“Yeah.  A girl named Danica.  Dani.  Believe it or not.”

“Wow,” said Tucker.  “Really?”

“Really.”

Danny turned to look behind him, tracing the string where it twisted away from reality and into not-space.

Tucker sighed.  “This is going to take a while, isn't it?”

.

It took Danica surprisingly little time to find her teammates.  For all the time she’d spent wandering on her own, after she’d accepted the sword and the string, she’d located everyone in what felt like an hour.  Some of them were even in groups!

The problem was, she found too many of them.  

.

“Mm,” said Danny, still worried.  “Probably.  I hope she doesn’t have to fight anything.”

.

There had been fourteen of them.  She knew there had been fourteen of them, because the coach and the driver had both done headcounts, because of the number of people they were allowed to field in each event at this particular meet, and because she remembered that someone had been sick.  But there were, including her, fifteen kids now huddled in something that aesthetically hovered in-between the Parthenon and a shopping mall.  

She couldn’t remember who had been sick.  No one could.  But everyone wanted to convince her that it wasn’t them.  

Probably because she was the one with the sword.  

.

“I think that if there was anything, it would have gone after Danny when he was searching earlier, right?” asked Sam.  

“Maybe,” said Danny.  “Unless it was scared of me.  I am pretty powerful.”

“And if Danny’s Ariadne in this, he was Ariadne at the beginning,” pointed out Tucker.  “The story was already going.  Ariadne never fought the Minotaur.”

“Astarion,” said Danny.  

“Huh?”

“That’s the Minotaur’s actual name,” said Sam.  She frowned slightly.  “He was Ariadne’s half-brother, you know.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, slowly.  “He was, wasn’t he?”

.

“Listen,” said Danica, trying to mask the shake in her voice, “I’m sorry, but– But based on everything, you aren’t who you say you are.”  

There was nothing she could do about how badly the sword was shaking.  

“I am!” said the girl, who couldn’t be there, because Eliza had taken the one place in the 100 meter, and Jaylynn did the javelin, and Lachandra had done the high jump, and no one remembered her competing at all.  “I really am, I promise!”

It was convincing, her act.  But it had to be an act, it really did.

“Dani,” said Lachandra, “is it really that important?  I mean, if we take her with us?  We just want to get out.”

“But she could eat us,” said Kevin, who was a bit of a mythology buff on top of being a track nerd.  “She could– If this is the Minotaur story–  She’ll try to kill us and then–”

“I won’t!” shouted the girl.  Her eyes– For a moment, they changed color.  Red.  Her teeth were sharp, too.

Danica gritted her teeth and swung the sword down.  

.

Danny caught her wrist, panting.  He’d followed the string back.  

“Wait,” he said, breathless.  “Wait.”

“Where–” said Danica, jerking back.  “Why–?”

Danny turned towards the ‘Minotaur.’  “Hi,” he said, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible.  “You’re one of Vlad’s aren’t you?”

Their face shimmered for a moment, and then– It was like looking into a mirror.  This wasn’t Dani - his Dani, Danielle - but a boy with red eyes.  He wore a chiton like Danny’s, but he looked starved, pale, terrified.  

He nodded.  

“There is,” said Danny, cautiously, “another story about escaping from the labyrinth.  How would you like to be Daedalus?”

.

“What was that?” hissed Danica, as they walked away from… whatever that was.  “Why are you here, now, leading us out, when you couldn’t before?”

“Story is different now,” said Danny, tightly.  “And I was leading you out before.  Just with the string.”

“What if you get lost?” asked Kevin.  

Danny grinned at him.  “I won’t.  He isn’t trying to keep you in anymore.”

“Who isn’t?” asked Danica.  

“Daedalus.  Him.  He just wanted out, I think.  Sorry for– I’m sorry about all of this,” said Danny.  “I didn’t want to get other people involved in Amity Park stuff, and I especially didn’t want to get you involved in family stuff, but…”  He shrugged, then caught sight of an out.  It looked, from this side, like a slightly darker than expected gap between stately white pillars.  “Here we go!  And I think this one is next to the police station, too, so just, you know.  Check yourselves in.”

“Just like that?” asked Danica.  

“Just like that,” said Danny.  “I will need those back, though.”  He nodded at the string and sword.  

“Right,” said Danica.  She shoved both at him.  “I can’t believe– I would have kill that– Whatever– Whoever–”  She stopped, looking very much like she wanted to cry.  

“I’m sorry,” said Danny again, softly.  “But it is over now.”

The New Athens kids walked into the gap and vanished.  

The string dissolved into golden, glittering light and then settled in his hands as a pair of equally golden wings.  Danny laughed.  

“Okay,” he said.  He turned, bouncing a little.  “I get the picture.  I think we can avoid the Icarus problem, being ghosts and all.”

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( Logan howlett x reader) part 5

Summary: a bored y/n leads to a choas filled result as she running through the mansion fight with technology, piotr finally expresses his guilt for not being there to help her when they were kids and revealing more than he intended to

Warning : goofy , angsty , mentions of violence and abusive past , Google translated Russian ( feel free to correct me ) , grammatical errors , slowish burn

Previous part

Restless maybe was what she was feeling , each day was both a reminder she was free but it was almost the same as the one before. She would help some of the teachers and professors set up Before lessons , head to the living room for bit Then her greenhouse. Read a little , tend the plants then dinner time . Each night she would fail to sleep and end up in the kitchen Or garden with logan chat about anything while She drank her tea and He drank a beer or glass of whiskey. She enjoyed It but it was the same over and over so now she felt restless and in that Feeling she felt guilty like she should be grateful Either way for it all . She walked down the halls admiring the ark work that adorned the walls til she found a room she not been in she tried the door to find it unlocked , she walked in hitting the light seeing it was a gym probably her brothers favorite room in the mansion considering every time she seen him he was sweaty even when he was in his other form . Almost inspecting the equipment as she passed by the machinery . She spotted a dummy only it was different it had buttons all along the side of it which she at that point should of left alone considering she could barely read English writing most of books gotten for her where in Russian if not all of them . Yet the curiosity got the better of her turning it on she turned the dial to ten as the thing stood up making her jump up . What she didn't expect was for it to start circling her like she was prey and it was the hunter . In a spilt second it lunged at her make her almost fall backwards to get out of the way , then it kicked her sending her across the gym crashing into the wall . A groan she got up and shut the door maybe if she got someone they could turn it off only for the thing to pull the door off the hinges . She took off down the hall and it took off after her throwing thing it found on its way to try deter her from getting away .

“ дерьмо , дерьмо ,дерьмо ( shit , shit ,shit)” she cursed running down the hall. Running to the main area she seen rogue coming out to see what the commotion was.

“ get help” was all y/n could get out of her mouth before she dodged the murderous robot Coming at her sending the now wide eyed woman in search of just that . Knocking her to the ground as it went to punch her she moved the robotic fist hitting the ground smashing the Floor mere inches From her skull .

“ хорошо, моя очередь ( ok my turn)” she narrowed her eyes sending a kick to the Metal chest pushing it back so she could get to her feet . Flipping Over the seemly angry robotic dummy She kicked it back sending it into the wall only for it to keep Coming . Soon she was catching it movement , knowing when to dodge and when to hit not once in the seemly Dance she was tangled Up with did she even consider Using her powers or the fact a crowd Now build watching the whole thing. She jumped on it shoulders as it fist flew Trying to get Her when she finally hit the power off button jumping Off The things shoulder to the ground panting finally seeing them stand around .

“ who the fuck thought to have this thing in a building full of kids” she asked looking down at the now lifeless dummy.

“ you ok?” logan asked.

“ other then demon robot Trying to kill Me , peachy” she stood before hitting the ground matching the dummy .

“ ok shows over back to class” he chuckled Heading over picking Her up . “ you can hold your own bub” he carried Her off to her room ignoring jean telling him to bring her to the med wing .

She shoot Up panting , sweating a common way for her body To walk realizing she was not in the common area as she took in the interior of her room. The plain Room bar Few drawing the kids had giving her that is .

“ welcome Back to the land of the living rocky?” A voice called making her head turn to see logan holding one of her books.

“ you can read in russian” her voice rasped .

“ not a clue , how you feeling” he asked putting it down.

“ all healed , what the hell was that thing?” she stretched out really she wasn't lying she didn't feel any pain at all .

“ training dummy keeps us in shape when on missions , impressive work out there how come you didn't use your powers” he asked.

“ well you know I didn't get a chance to think of them when it was trying to kill me” she rolled her eyes heading to her closet needing to get out the clothes now felt well sweaty.

“ where you learn to fight like that” he asked watching as she walked to bathroom.

“ learn myself to do it , knew I would need more to protect the kids” she yelled out pulling the wet material off of her body seeing a faint remainder of a bruise still there but in fairness it did kick her across the gym. “ learned from the men when they beat me too” she walked out seeing him still sitting there.

“ your not bad , not at all could use some pointers” he shrugged standing walking to her door holding it open for her .

“ I don't use it that often on to defend me or others” she said easily.

“ if you want I can help you out , just some tips” .

“ ok once its not with that thing though” agreeing because if she was honest with herself it was kinda fun.

“ not robot, just Me and You like sparring” he smiled as they entered The dinning Room.

“ OK we spar “ she headed to her seat.

“ hey rocky how are you “ bobby asked.

“ why do you call me that , logan too” her head tilted .

“ its a movie you know the boxer .. nevermind “ he said seeing as none of it was registering With her.

“ I am fine , I will fix The broken stuff or work to replace it” she looked to the professor .

“ not at all , once you are unharmed It's the main thing although I am sorry we didn't warn you before hand”.

“How come you didn't use your powers ?”

“ I Didn't think of them when it was swinging at my head” she ate The food as she Could physically see the cogs turning Inside their Heads . “ anything else?” She looked Around The room .

“ what made you turn the dial to ten couldn't you see the warnings?” Bobby Spoke up .

“ I can't read English that well now let me eat” she glared feeling A little embarrassed .

“hey less yapping more eating” .

Once again she was looking around her room only this time it was covered in vines and there was thumping on the doctor , screaming for her go answer . She pulled the door Open it wasn't the mansion It was the cage , the same metal Bars She stared at day in and day out . The feeling Of a electric shock hitting her skin making her fall to her knees feeling it course through out her body Hitting ever nerve In her , she biting Her Lip that much the copper metallic taste danced on her taste buds . Only thing she was grateful For was she was only one in the cage .

“ enough” it called out . “ my little lab bunny finally Awake” he taunted.

“ your not real” she gritted only for the shock to happen.

“Not necessarily Wrong bunny but I'm a part of you know , I'm the one who truly know the monster you are” he was laughing.

“ he's wrong dear Come on Follow my voice” .

“ you see how they see you , when you watch them being taken” .

“ you paralyzed me keep the knife in so I could not move” she gritted.

“ they’re not there , follow my voice dear don't listen To him” professor sat watching over Her sleeping for the screams Were louder transferring To reality. “ it not working she Is prisoner to her own subconscious , piotr Any thing that helped when she was a child” the professor Asked .

“ a song our grandmother would sing” he asked feeling rather useless lately to help her.

“ may I?” Charles asked for the man to nod . Eyes close as he was almost transfer the memory from one sibling to the other.

She felt something shift , the line of the things around her blur , the cage Switching between The metal she knew To the fire She used to sit At . She seen stryker words muffling as the melodic Humming on her grandmothers voice filled her ears , the wrinkled Hand around her shoulder and the smell of lavender soap filled her senses . She was home , back on the rural farm she missed so dearly one that even though it wasn't the biggest or the fanciest it was the place she knew a Beloved One . her Tense body relaxing almost instantly and she savored the moment , the feeling , the everything. Was only then it was fading , only then her body Was listening and she began opening her eyes. She was sweating and crying but she was scared this time . She sat Up and look To see the blurry figure Being push out of the room and four small ones coming towards Her clinging on to her .

“ we will keep you safe Sister” Ana Muffled voice hit Her ears.

“ we love you” luka head rested On her shoulder .

“ that's my job” she said softly kissing their heads . “ I am OK just bad dream , go to bed” she smiled softly as they reluctantly left Harry clinging to her little more but eventually Left .

“ you both share same happy memories more of you in his ” charles looked between siblings.

“ I've have an Amazing grandmother, but I have an even more amazing big brother” .

“ Я подвел тебя( I failed you)” his eyes fell to the ground Not willing to look At her .

“ Ты думал, что я умер, ты оплакивал меня. ( you thought I was dead , you mourned me)” she stood , coming in front of him hand on his arm .

“ Я должен был искать тебя, видел их ложь. ( I should of been looking for you , I should of seen their lies) “ his eyes filled with guilt and sadness that matched his words . “ Мне не следовало тебя оставлять.( I shouldn't have left you )” .

“ Тебе было шестнадцать, ты был ребенком( you were sixteen ,child yourself )” trying to show the guilt he had was misplaced that it shouldn't have been there at all .

“ Если бы я увидел их сейчас, я бы не смог сдержать слов. ( if I seen them now I might not be able to keep it To words ) “ she watched as he started pacing , the anger Building . “ их никогда не волновало, кому они причиняют боль, и до сих пор не волнует( they never cared who they hurt , they still Dont)” .

“ что ты имеешь в виду?(what do you mean ?) “ her brows furrowed. Was he saying what she Thought he was.

“ ты знаешь, какие они ( you know what they're like)” he pause only then he realize what he said .

“ they are alive” her voice and expression unreadable , her stare no longer comforting .

“Yes Here is new york” .

“ I want to see them” Everything about her in that moment told him that no wasn't even in the realm of possibilities of an answer.

part 6

Taglist : @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1

[magknightidv]

The Knight and The Florist.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an Idv fic. (Fairly short)

Richard Sterling x fem! Reader

---

The Florist. Y/n L/n. Recently dragged into the claws of Oletus Manor by a mysterious letter supposedly telling her of clues of the location of her missing brother. A boy so young when he was stolen from their mothers arms, the girl had barely understood the severity of the situation until she watched her family succumb to an illness that she was immune to.

How will her first meeting with the equally as new "Knight" go?

---

Matches. Games. Decode. Run. Hunters. Survivors. All key words I must remember. I must. One wrong move could cost me and the other survivors our winning matches, the more we win the more we get in return. Or so I've been told by Lily. She's a sweet girl who means well, energetic, maybe a little peculiar.

What if I fail my match. Who will come rescue me. I've been teamed with the other newest survivors, they likely will not be as experienced as the players who have been stuck here for years. No, they simply won't be as experienced. I cannot be fully sure I won't fumble and lose us a match. I do not even know how to play these games, decoding seems simple enough but what do I do if the hunter finds me? I can supposedly contain the hunter but I do not even know how to, I can even support people in some equally as unkown way. Oh how I wish they'd put me in a practise match where there would be no rewards, no consequences. Just a bit of practise.

My breathing becomes heavier and my room suddenly feels a lot smaller. I can't take it. Out.

Get out.

Leave.

Run.

Hide.

A ring of black takes the edges of my vision as I sprint towards the garden area of the manor. The flora and fauna will comfort me, surely. They wither quickly, like my family did. I'm safe with them. In my rush, I fail to notice the taller figure of a man in front of me as I enter the greenhouse.

My head smacks straight into the figure's shoulder, he grunts and turns with arms outstretched as though to catch me should I fall. I don't fall but I do stumble back in my panicked shock and take in his appearance. Long, dark hair, heterochromic eyes of blue and brown, a lean build. He's incredibly handsome, and the beauty mark just below the left (my side) side of his mouth adds to his looks.

"I-" My words fail me as I stare at the man in complete awe. He's the even newer "Knight" I suppose. A moment of stunned silence overtakes us. The greenhouse calms as though even the plants were riled up by the outburst before calming with my own heartrate. "I'm so sorry." I finally blurt out.

The man doesn't seem to particularly care, almost apathetic even before realising I'm apologising. "Oh. It is no issue, I suppose I was the one blocking the doorway." He bows slightly before returning to his towering height.

"My name is Richard Sterling. I have been dubbed, The "Knight", of these games. If it is not too much to ask, would you be able to tell me what this entails?" His tone is sincere and face although fairly flat, there is a slight upturn to his lips. The sense of dread fills me once more as I realise he's asking for advice. Advice I cannot offer.

"I'm very sorry Mr Sterling. I, myself have not been present for any matches yet. I am able to show you the schedule however if you would like? I saw that our first match would be together I believe, so we can learn together." I try to pull a kind smile onto my lips and it works as he smiles in return.

"Yes, I would like that miss..?" He holds his arm out for me to take, I wrap my arm around his and begin to lead him.

"Y/n L/n, The Florist."

What did I come to the greenhouse for again? I strain my memory to try and remember but all I see is the embarrassing but enjoyable first meeting with Richard.

---fin.

Something short and sweet, I have more ideas for these two that I wanna get to working on. REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW PEOPLE START SENDING THEM IN PLEASSEEE I BEG.

[songbirdsandsugar-moved]

Lucy began having visions as a young girl. She kept quiet about them though out of fear of being shunned and ridiculed. For the most part, she was able to carry on without them being too much of a problem.

However, when her mother fell ill, the visions became difficult for Lucy to handle. As she sank into a depression, the visions became darker. She began trying to suppress them with drugs and alcohol, only for them to worsen instead. Lucy barely got any peace. She was haunted by dark visions in her sleep as well as during waking hours. The more she succumbed to her depression and addiction, the harder it became for her to manage.

Shortly after her mother's passing, Lucy had a breakdown while working. She was on stage when she went into a violent fit trying to "escape" the monsters she was seeing in her head. Fortunately, no one was injured, however, Lucy was committed to Green Meadows Sanitarium a few days later.

From the outside, the building looked like a palatial estate. A cozy place for patients to heal, recover, and learn how to manage their mental ailments. There was even a lovely courtyard with a garden and attached greenhouse for the patients to tend to. Inside, it was sterile white walls and cold staff members.

As Lucy suffered withdrawals from her chosen vices and was forced medication, her nightmares and visions became worse than ever. The doctors tried hard to convince her that it was only in her head, that none of it was real, and they were only there to help. Lucy refused to listen or believe them though. She knew otherwise.

She became prone to violent outbursts each time she had a vision which would result in her being confined to her room for some period of time. Each one lasting longer than the last, to a point that they would begin to restrain Lucy out of fear that she would hurt herself.

The whispers began during the first confinement. Lucy laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was an itch, just in the back of her mind. Whispers she couldn't quite make out. With each confinement, the whispers grew louder and clearer. From her room, she could look down into the courtyard. Even with the straight jacket wrapped tightly around her, she'd stand by her window, listening to the whispers.

A wicked smile stretched across her lips as she watched the vines creeping along the ground and climbing the stone bricks of the courtyard walls. The vines dug in, pulling at the walls, finding their way through crevices into the building. The plants began to grow to massive sizes, bursting through the green house ceiling to join the rest of the garden in the terraformation of Green Meadows. Patients and staff alike were taken. Those who weren't strangled and smothered by the vines were absorbed into the plants. Lucy's laughter mixed with their agonized screams in a twisted symphony as Green Meadows crumbled around her.

She is uncertain at what point the dark fog began to roll in, filling the halls as patient and staff alike ran for their lives. But when it was over, she found herself somewhere new. The ruins of Green Meadows was now her garden kingdom to rule over, as long as she was willing to participate in the trials making sacrifices to The Entity that she seen as her savior. Lucy isn't aware that The Entity is not in fact Mother Nature, but sees The Entity as such anyways. She believes the ability to control the plants around her is a gift from Mother Nature The Entity, oblivious to the fact that it came from within her.

Being on the petite side and not very strong, Lucy uses the plants in her realm (or any other realm she participates in a trial in) to her advantage. Using them to both trap Survivors as well as using the vines to lift and hook them for sacrifices.

[victorluvsalice]

-->With the trash sorted and Smiler having grabbed their share of the greenhouse produce, it was time to take care of the rest of the farm chores:

Smiler went and took care of the chickens -- spreading feed, collecting eggs (5 normal ones, hooray!), chatting to a couple of them to keep attention good, the usual -- then joined Victor in the greenhouse to brew up a fresh Sadness Alleviation Lotion. Once that was done, they took Victor's spotted heart frog and tried to breed it with their regular dirt frog to get a spotted dirt frog (both so Victor could use it in potion-brewing and so they could add one to their own collection) -- however, the first attempt only resulted in another dirt frog, so that got turned into a plasma pack. Just have to try again later! They also put out the living room fireplace, because, uh, we don't want a fireplace just randomly burning in this house. I don't think Alice would approve.

Alice, for her part, was put on cow duty -- refilling Moory's feed, cleaning her off, and telling her a joke before milking her. I'm not sure how well the joke went down, judging from Moory's expression in the screenshot, but, uh, Alice tried! And Moory didn't kick over the milk pail when she was milked, so that's something. Alice also emptied out the outside litter box because that was looking NASTY -- I guess having three cats means it DOES fill up quicker! I should upgrade the litter boxes to the zappy kind at this point, they have the cash for it...

And Victor, of course, was banished to the greenhouse to harvest all the remaining produce and tend the plants. XD However, today he actually got a little help -- not only were the bots out and assisting with the watering, weeding, and spraying for bugs, I had Alice and Smiler join him to do the same once they were done with their own chores. The more hands on deck, the better! :D They got everything sorted in good time, and Alice even got the honor of planting the one new plant they'd gotten from all those seed packets the gnomes left around -- a bell pepper! So now they have peppers to offer for sale along with all their other various veggies, fruits, and flowers. :) There was even a little time for flirting and chatting as they finished up -- which I'm sure the trio appreciated, as I have been working them HARD lately.

-->On my end, once all the produce was actually harvested, I went back into Build Mode and started moving around all gnomes that had wandered during Harvestfest -- I sold the duplicates, then put the three "normal" gnomes and the one alien gnome in the four corners of the greenhouse, the pool floatie gnome in the wheelbarrow out front, and the Grim gnome next to Toothy the cowplant. You know, as a warning. Still no sign of my old bunny gnome, though -- I think the game may have deleted it while trying to move it out of its wheelbarrow home. *grumbles* Ah well -- maybe I'll get a new one during a future Harvestfest!

-->Oh, and before the gang finished up and headed out to the store, I had to get this one last picture of the kittens being cute by the scratching post. :D Look at how teeny they are! So adorable~

[chipstertool]

Ann Herrmann Segment #1 (Ann's Storyline)

"I'll go water the plants Mr. [Name]!" Ann exclaimed.

"You know...you could always take a break from the hassle." Mr. [Name] advised.

"Don't worry too much. I'll be fine, their comments won't get through to me." She replied with a tensed smile on her face and marched into the greenhouse.

As she heads into the greenhouse, the area around her began to smell by its terpenes as the sweet aroma spread throughout the enclosed glass building. Ann felt more at peace with the area as there was no one around her, no one to bother her, no one to gossip behind her back.

Ann closed her eyes to envision an open forest, filled with beautiful flowers and healthy trees, her imaginary land was peaceful as the sounds of chirping brought mental tranquility. Though, thoughts began to slowly creep upon her as voices became more apparent from her day-to-day life.

"Have you heard about the third-born daughter of the Herrmann? She's nothing like her older siblings."

"Bet she's just a spoiled girl living off the Herrmann name."

"She has a life a luxury along with butlers and maids. She has no room to talk about struggling."

"Rumor has it that she working at a job somewhere. Why would she decide help us common folk?"

"How could she ever relate to us, she has it all while we have to deal with a few mishaps and hardships."

All the voices keep flooding her mind, making her imaginary plane polluted. Every time one is blocked off, another one fills its space; one by one, it becomes too much for her to bear as each voice begin to slowly tear into her, making her cave into their perceptions.

Just as when she began to break, a single voice wakes her from her nightmare. Oliver was standing next to the doorway and sees Ann on her knees with both arms wrapping around her, the sight of her was enough to make him worry about her wellbeing.

"Ann...Mr. [Name] asked me to check on you and...you don't look very well." Hinted Oliver as he slowly approaches her.

Ann, shaken at the moment, attempts to life herself up. Her efforts were futile as she slumps back onto the ground. In response, Oliver assists Ann into resting on a bench, the two sat together in a unresponsive manner yet both tried to speak about what happened. With seeing Oliver not interacting with her, Ann decides to speak to him about her troubles.

"Oliver, do you think I'm good enough?" She questioned.

"Why do you ask that Ann?" He responded.

"Everyone keeps talking about how I'm this spoiled princess and how I'm not like Ivy and Dahlia. I mean, I do live in a manor and have Hilda but I want to able to do something more." She adds on.

"I don't know what else you need, you seem fine." Oliver insisted.

"You don't get what I'm trying to tell you. I want to be able to be approachable without having this label on me! I want people to befriend me for who I am, not someone who's seen as a wealthy person!" Ann scolded.

The sudden burst of anger made Ann realized who she was speaking to and quickly turned her head down. The guilt she felt now was embarrassing as it may turn Oliver away from her or even perceive her as someone with needless problems.

"I'm sorry if that was out of line Oliver", she apologizes, "I just want to be seen as a normal person. I'll understand if you don't want to talk to me after that."

Ann begins to stand and force herself out of his view, presumably to resume to duty. A hand reaches out to her arm, making her halt in her footsteps as her head begins to turn. Her eyes met with his glare, creating a tense air around them.

"Ann, you're nothing like the sisters and that's the truth but that doesn't mean you don't stand out on your own. From what I've seen from my own eyes, you are an empathetic and kind-hearted person." Oliver argued.

"But, what if people just see me as someone to let others walk all other them? I would rather be that person if it means getting on their good side." She uttered.

"Then stand your ground! Don't let people take advantage over your kindness! Befriend people who'll like you for you! You're Ann after all, someone who wants people to like them for what's inside."

Through his strict yet supportive words of encouragement, Ann quietly smiles as everything around her felt clear to her.

[doortotomorrow]

The 100 AS A SITCOM -> Living in Arkadia : “This place is a once in a lifetime find. Can’t wait to show it off to you when you get here,” Monty says into his phone, chatting away to Jasper as he wraps lights around the wooden railing, finishing up the decorating. A grand statement, indeed, but it was definitely warranted. Granted, when the property and land was first bought, the place was a dilapidated mess that had everything wrong with it, but the apartment complex had potential. And in terms of location, it was second to none; private and secluded despite being smack dab in the heart of the city.

It was a calculated risk on all their parts to put a down payment on the complex, but it protected them from being underneath the thumb of skeevy landlords which made the whole process worth it. It took half a year to fully furnish and renovate the place to bring it up to code, but the result more than made up for it, creating the perfect sanctuary after a long day’s work.

Monty and Harper set themselves up in the highest apartment, constructing a greenhouse on the flat roof so Monty can have easy access to his plants while Harper takes full advantage of her home spa. Murphy and Emori set their sights on the apartment below theirs, Murphy appreciating the kitchen’s layout the best while Emori creates an entertainment room where she can watch movies/play games in.

To the left of them, Bellamy and Clarke take the second floor apartment, Bellamy loving how brightly the sun shines into his newly built library while Clarke enjoys the peaceful serenity in her fully stocked art room. The first floor apartment and the one closest to the ground, is where Raven and Echo live, Echo using their spare room to build a home gym while Raven’s a stone’s throw away from her workshop that’s right beside the house.

And today was the big day to invite their friends and family over for their big grand opening, going so far as to even have a ribbon cutting ceremony at the front gate and Octavia teases her brother over his dramatics, knowing full well it was his cheesy idea. Their friends and family are guided into the backyard where over a dozen champagne bottles are uncorked, a crescendo of cheers erupting in every corner, filling the place with life once again.

“Welcome home, everyone!”

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

~

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

[stayevildarling]

Cordelia Goode x Reader - In the Silence

gif credit: @billiebeanhoward

word count: 4.9k

warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: Hi everyone! This took me quite a while but I got a little inspiration for this from a song called ''In the silence'' by JP Cooper. It's basically Cordelia x Reader in love for years but rather expressing it in silence than with words.

Taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @mrsdeanhoward , @alexajbitar , @in-cordelias-coven , @kenzbro , @loverofallthingssarah , @twistedpoeticjustice , @billiebeanhoward , @minaslittleone , @lilypadscoven , @vintagepaulson , @ninaahs , @whitelotus00 , @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @talulahmae

Standing by the entrance of the greenhouse, you are greeted by warm sunlight coating your cheeks and your senses momentarily clouded due to the many flowers and plants residing in the house, mostly build out of glass, as well as the tender care and affection that is put into nurturing them and helping them grow.

A smile creeps it's way onto your features, as you still show the same reaction when entering the greenhouse, even after having entered it multiple times, through many seasons throughout the year and at various times of the day or night. It had always been your safe space, the place you could run to, whether it being one of those days, one of those lonely nights or when you want some peace and quiet. Most of the witches would usually use the greenhouse as a source for their magic. Walking in and out quickly, grabbing the ingredients they need for a potion before walking back out again, after the service was provided. To you, it had always been your source of safety and light and sometimes you questioned whether it was silly, considering after all it was just a greenhouse. However, the only person beside you, treating the building with the same care as you, is currently standing in front of you, mending to the plants. Watering some of them, and giving them a little extra attention as she fears they wouldn't grow or survive if it wasn't for her tender and magic touch. Cordelia.

You watch as she moves swiftly between the rows of pots filled with herbs and flowers, spraying some of them with water, inspecting the leaves carefully. Another smile makes it's way onto your face, as you remember seeing her in here for one of the first times, years ago. Her hair used to be shorter and thinner, the same blonde but slightly lighter. Throughout the years, her hair had changed, into a slightly darker shade, as well as the thickness as her blonde locks are now fuller and glowing, radiating her perfect health and beauty. The first time you had seen her in here, Cordelia was a completely different person, much more quiet, holding back and so insecure. When she saw you enter, her eyebrows furrowed and you could tell how nervous she felt, as if she was an intruder in her own home and academy.

She finally turns around, noticing a presence in the room, not just based on the little shadow by the door but also her magic alerting her whenever someone is close by. For a moment she halts, not particularly in the mood for company, either one of the younger witches asking for advice again or Madison getting on her nerves about some topic. The supreme doesn't mind listening to her girls intently, after all they have always been a family to the blonde but lately the amount of council meetings, lack of sleep and new students joining, needing guidance and teaching, had taken it's toll on the usual strong headmistress. However, as she turns and notices your frame, a warm smile instantly greets you, the same smile she has reserved specifically for you.

You watch as she smiles contently at you for a moment, almost as if she was relieved it's you and not one of the students or other witches. She wasn't in a talkative mood today, you could tell by her posture and her tense shoulders, that seem to relax when noticing you. The supreme could rely on you, always knowing the two of you can work beside each other without a lot of conversation, if it wasn't needed. The headmistress and you had always enjoyed the quiet moments, being in each other's company, experiencing moments together and words exchanged without speaking. Neither of you needed magic to do that, a little smile an indication or rather a reassurance that either you or Cordelia were okay. The smirks exchanged when in company of others or across the dinner table, either one of you able to judge Madison's stupid jokes or thinking of inside jokes you and Cordelia have, without letting the others share or in on your jokes.

Communication has many forms of expressing things, mostly by talking but you and Cordelia had always found a different way to communicate. Mostly through mimics, glances and whispered confessions. Of course, that didn't come naturally and it hasn't always been this way. But throughout your years at the academy, joining just after graduating college and finally deciding to check this place out that your grandmother had always spoken so highly of, not really understanding the need to actually enroll in an academy. Magic had always been a part of your life, running around as a toddler playing with the herbs in your mother's garden, somehow actually managing to make potions as you grew older and eventually getting very invested in witchcraft, as it had run in your family for generations. After walking through the large double doors for the first time, you finally understood your grandmothers words, the instant feeling of home and belonging being with your own kind and not having to hide from other's anymore, unless they are family. You quickly became part of the academy, attending lessons at first but the headmistress instantly could tell.

From the first lesson she watched you, the blonde, at the time shy and just months before rising as the new supreme, had known that you are destined for greater things than to be a simple student at the academy. Teaching at the academy, was the suggestion that followed, although Cordelia allowed you time, getting settled in, getting to know the girls and council and the way things roll at the coven. Her offer came as a surprise, neither of you having spoken about deep subjects at that point or knowing each other too well. In fact, Cordelia had a feeling about you, knowing if there was anyone she would like to run the academy alongside with in the future, it would be you. And she was right, a few years later the two of you are teaching young witches, at one of the most known and best academies and covens in the world. It started out with Cordelia as headmistress and eventually supreme, you teaching a few students at first that needed extra help but eventually you became a full on teacher and resident at the academy, finding more than just your purpose in New Orleans. After years of Cordelia running the academy and you helping out with any problems that might have occurred, whether it was the council or other academies giving Cordelia a hard time about something, threats and dangers outside the safe walls, the coven is finally in a stable and adequate position, with all things in order.

Once again, you are snapped out of your thoughts, all the memories about joining this place and meeting Cordelia slowly pushed into the back of your mind again, as her soft voice fills the room.

''Hi there, sweetheart'' she greets you warmly and just with those simple words, the blonde has your cheeks glowing red as if the sun coating it moments ago left it burnt. Her voice had always had this effect on you, either having you blush or melt, your heart skipping a beat and feeling utter gratitude to be able to hear her honey like voice. Always so gentle and calm, being able to ground you after a long day or something causing your eyebrows to furrow, in that way that Cordelia hates. She could always tell when something was bothering you and she wishes every single time, she could change it, fix you and take care of the matter or person, upsetting you or keeping your thoughts occupied.

''Hi Cordelia'' you reply with a warm content smile, finally taking some steps into the greenhouse, towards her. You instantly notice her working on something, some books spread out on the table along with some ingredients and little potion jars and other materials.

Curiously, you examine what she might be working on, trying to figure it out before she could tell you, your inner nerd feeling challenged. Cordelia watches as your gaze averts her and wanders to the table and she smiles, knowing exactly what you are trying to figure out. She stands there patiently, even if it is just for a few seconds, giving you the needed time to figure it out.

''You are working on a truth revelation potion?'' you ask a bit dumbfounded after connection all the dots. You turn, trying to find out a response or her reasoning for making the potion. Cordelia simply smirks and assures ''Well you never know when you might need one, they can come in handy in a house full of teenagers''.

You can't help but laugh at the statement and Cordelia's antiques, making a truth potion, simply for the sake of it, knowing she has a little shelf somewhere hidden in the greenhouse, where she keeps an extra two of every single potion you could think of simply with her ''You never know when it might come in handy'' attitude.

''Can I help you? do you need me to clear some of these things?'' Cordelia asks warmly, after the laughter dies down and part of you is still unable to believe how empathetic she is, always putting her own needs second and dropping whatever she is doing for anyone.

However, Madison would definitely disagree with you right now, always pointing out how Cordelia really only is nice to you and the massive soft spot she apparently has for you. At the beginning you disagreed, thinking there is no way Cordelia could like you or her seeing you as her little favorite as Madison put it. However, the more the blonde bratty witch pointed it out, the more you started to believe it and realizing it, especially with your own feelings involved.

Love had always been a stranger to you, it often felt like a missing piece in your life, seeing couples holding hands or intimate moments shared. However at some point you started to realize that love doesn't necessary mean being in a relationship with someone or putting labels on something. To you, love had always been about feelings and expressing emotions towards someone, it didn't need more than that. At some point you realized, that person, your soulmate is closer than you initially thought. For years, Cordelia had been your mentor, despite teaching alongside you and always treating you as an equal, however there was something else involved, something almost impossible to put into words.

Both you and Cordelia developed a bond, a silent promise that no matter what happens, you would have each others back. Neither of you would let anyone speak bad about the other, often finding either you or Cordelia argue with Madison or one of the younger witches if they dare made a remark about the supreme or you as their teacher at the academy. Neither of you would let the other one get hurt, both of you ready to take your last breath's for one another at any moment given. It had happened once, an unexpected moment, the coven at one of it's peak times, neither you nor the supreme expecting an outside threat, when a stranger made it's way into the white walls of the academy. It was just after you started teaching there, now long forgotten, the only reminder of that night, the little scar on your hand that was the result of you fighting for the place that became your home over the years and protecting the people inside. Cordelia had never forgotten about the incident however, the fact she wasn't there at first, just arriving back from a council meeting, and how she found you hurt afterwards. You played it down, reassuring over and over again you are alright, but that didn't stop the supreme from dragging you into the greenhouse and mending to your wounds, just like she would usually mend to her plants. Til this day, you often find Cordelia's eyes lingering on the scar, a painful reminder of the night she failed you or her thumb swiping over it gently, as if trying to soothe the pain and ache that had faded long ago.

''No, no I just came in here to check on you'' you finally reassure her, after her question sinks in. The blonde nods and smiles warmly, causing for your heart to beat in that familiar tune, specifically reserved for the supreme. The color of your cheeks, slowly turning lighter again, in contrary to the sun now slowly setting, causing for the greenhouse to fill with beautiful colors of orange and red.

''How are you, honey?'' she asks and your gaze lingers on her, taking your eyes away from the table and ingredients for a truth enhancement potion.

You can't help but take in her features again, your eyes not able to comprehend her ethereal beauty. She is wearing one of your favorite outfits on her tonight, a brown blouse with green, red and yellow accents. The colors remind you of the woman still smiling contently at you, green reminding you of her peaceful nature and personality, always able to calm you down whether it being her voice whispering words of reassurance or her hands placed gently on your shoulders, brown eyes locking with yours, guiding you out of any state. Yellow, reminding you of her smile and laughter that always manage to light up your entire world. Finally red, the color that usually reminds you of fire and in some small way Cordelia was the fire in your life. It started burning from the moment you had walked into the academy, her calm nature, making you feel welcome from day one, her smile making your world brighter from day one and the fire of desire and love burning in you from the first day of ever seeing her.

Of course you had questioned it, after all surely she couldn't like you, or see you as anything more than teaching at the academy and a friend, she could always rely on. However throughout all of these years of working alongside her, getting to know every aspect about Cordelia, learning about her past and the scars it had left on her soul, despite the bright smiles she continues to bless people with everyday, you realized something. You realized, that it was never one sided, Cordelia indeed caring about your wellbeing, indeed having saved this specific smile just for you and her ready to die for you at any given moment. You realized, that Madison was right with her teasing and her statement carried some truth, realizing that indeed the younger newer witches joining, always questioning whether you and Cordelia were a couple. The same awkward smiles you would exchange, quickly denying that statement and stopping any speculation. However, somewhere along the lines, you questioned it, why she didn't make a first step, maybe she was afraid, after her marriage and scared of being hurt again, scared of losing you. You stopped questioning it a long time ago though, ready to be a part in Cordelia's life either way, not needing any labels or terms to determine what is obvious- your love for each other.

After all, Cordelia had given you what you longed, love, affection and everything you saw in couples, whether at the academy, in public or on television. Her greeting you with a gentle smile being enough to make your heart beat at a faster pace, her hand on your shoulder or your back, reminding you, you are never alone in this, making you feel safe and her mere presence enough to give you everything you had always wanted. Nevertheless, there were nights, those nights where the moonlight would light up your bedroom of the academy, you gazing at the ceiling, wondering what it would feel like to feel her lips on yours, to wake up next to her and to feel her. You would always shake those thoughts away, feeling grateful to have Cordelia in your life, never feeling incomplete but you did wonder sometimes.

''I'm great, how are you?'' you reply, noticing her gaze on you and finding you daydreaming again. Cordelia checks for your genuine smile, knowing you are only really saying the truth about how you feel, if there is that genuine smile. As soon as she registers it, she untenses, always worrying about you regardless.

Cordelia avoids your gaze for a moment, parting her lips before speaking ''I'm alright, sweetheart'' but you knew it was a lie. It wasn't the hesitation or her phrasing, that gave it away. It was your gut, knowing whenever the supreme was lying to you, mostly to avoid you worrying about something, because she would never want to cause any negative emotion in you. You debate for a moment, knowing asking her wouldn't usually result in her being honest, your language always being the silence, not needing many words.

Simply nodding, you focus your attention back to the potion she was working on, moments before noticing your presence in the greenhouse. ''Now, would you like some help from the best teacher at the academy, Miss Goode?'' you joke, hoping to at least find a little smile on her features. She smirks in response, her right eyebrow raising slightly, before turning her attention back on the books and potions.

The two of you, sit by the table in the greenhouse next to each other, working side by side on the potion and a few others, filling her little cabinet with healing potions and other things necessary that might come in useful one day. You work in silence, you watching her in awe as her work is so delicate and she manages to still teach you new things every day, little details, never to be read in any book, simply coming from her experience and bloodline. Occasionally, your hands would graze, as you pass her ingredients, the same feeling in your stomach, butterflies fluttering, a reminder of your feelings for the woman sitting next to you. Hours pass, neither of you getting tired of the work or the silence, simply being in each other's company enough to please you and be enough for you both.

''I think that's all, you really are quite a good teacher'' Cordelia remarks, breaking the silence, apart from the occassional small thank you's exchanged after passing her things, or you asking questions about a potion or spell.

''Quite good?'' you ask, raising your eyebrow and a little smirk now playing on your lips. The supreme nods, meeting your eyes, before standing up to fill her little potion shelf. Meanwhile, you clean the table, carefully closing the books and sorting the tools that were used.

Cordelia halts for a second, after filling the shelf, her eyes landing on you, sitting by the table. Her eyebrows furrow, chin slightly quivering and fighting the tears back that have been hidden deep down. If you were turned around in this moment, you could see Cordelia looking at her whole world, simply sitting there and waiting for her to return to the table. A little smile creeps onto her features, as she watches you clumsily drop some tools, while trying to carry them to the other side of the greenhouse.

You bend down, in an effort to pick them up and as you stand up, you notice Cordelia, standing at the other end of the greenhouse, looking at you with an expression you can't quite read or put together. Her gaze avoids yours and in that moment you realize, something is wrong as Cordelia had never avoiding your gaze, not in uncomfortable moments or moments where the two of you got close.

''Cordelia?'' you ask gently, after you meet each other by the table again. Her brown eyes meet yours for a second and without words needed you can tell something is on her mind, the pain very visible in her brown orbs. It tears you apart, hating to see her in any kind of discomfort and knowing something is on her mind, clearly upsetting her. You wish you could fix her, make her smile again, stop the pain, just like the many times she had done the same for you.

''What's wrong? please be honest'' you plead, your voice breaking in the second half of your sentence. She averts your gaze again, biting the inside of her mouth as if she was trying to bite the words back, keeping herself from being honest with you. Suddenly, it feels as if Cordelia Foxx is back, the shy, innocent and insecure headmistress, too afraid to speak her truth.

''You can be honest with me, you know that right?'' you try and reassure her, knowing the battle the supreme is fighting in her head currently. She nods at your statement, knowing she can fully rely on you but something is still holding her back, maybe the fact she isn't sure how to word what she is feeling, as she doesn't completely understand it herself.

''It's -'' she finally parts her lips, the words trying to spill from her heart but the rational Cordelia still fighting to be quiet. ''I'm here'' you whisper, reassuring her yet again. Your hand wanders to her leg, gently swiping your thumb across it in a comforting manner, reassuring her that she can tell you anything, desperately wanting to make her feel better and stop the aching in her heart and your own, seeing her like this.

''Do you ever feel like there is something missing in your life Y/N?'' she asks, suddenly the conversation turning more serious, her thoughts slightly trailing off and she allows herself to be honest and vulnerable around you, speaking her mind.

You swallow hard, the only thing to be heard for a moment the beating of your own heart as your mind instantly wanders to that feeling, as you know it too well, despite accepting long ago to be grateful for what you have instead of being upset over what you don't have.

''Yes I know Cordelia'' you start ''But I learned to understand to be grateful for the things that I have in my life'' you explain and yet again your eyes lock, her brows furrowing for a second, before her lips part again.

''But don't you ever miss anything?'' she asks, unable to understand how you could be eternally grateful, without missing anything at all. After thinking about it for a moment you reply ''I have everything I need, working here, the academy, an amazing family here and yo-'' you stop yourself, not sure whether naming her of things you need, being too much or too direct in this moment.

''What about love?'' she whispers, completely snapping you out of any thoughts, waking you up like a slap from reality just hit you in the face. ''Lo- love?'' you ask, stumbling over your words and locking eyes with your supreme. She nods, a statement of both reassuring you, you heard correctly but also begging you to explain.

''I have love in my life, Cordelia, it might be a different kind but I'm so grateful'' you explain, feeling confident as she started the subject and conversation in the first place and part of you feeling like this being your only chance to ever have an open conversation about this with her.

''But - do you ever wish it wasn't hidden or silent?'' she asks her lisp slightly showing, taking you by surprise yet again with her statement. Her eyes haven't left yours for a second, your hearts beating in synch, as all the silence is finally about to be broken, your feelings open for each other to understand.

''There is still love in the silence Cordelia'' you reassure her. You watch as her demeanor changes for a moment, as if she just realized what words are being said, for a moment you fear she won't allow the conversation to go further, maybe getting up and walking out into the moonlight or maybe changing the subject, but yet again the blonde takes you by surprise.

''I just-'' you find her stumbling over her words, the usual confident supreme faltering under her walls breaking down in front of you. She averts her gaze to the floor, tears prickling in her eyes and instantly, like an automatic reaction, your hand wanders to her cheek, cupping it gently and averting her gaze back to your own eyes, filled with nothing but love.

''Darling, if you listen closely, you will hear there is still love in the silence'' you reassure her, your hands leaving her cheek but resting on her leg again, showing her you are still right here.

''Y/N I-'' she starts, her breath shaky and words getting caught in her throat. Your eyes scan hers one last time, taking a deep breath, feeling the need to speak your mind and give her the last bit of confirmation she might need to fully understand your feelings and the love you feel for her, as well as the place in your heart that she took from day one.

''I feel love in the silence, Cordelia'' you admit, tears beginning to prickle in your own eyes as you aren't too sure of her reaction. After all, a small insecure part of yourself is still a bit unsure, even after all of these years, all of this silence. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for different ways this conversation to end and at the same time being scared of the outcome of this night.

A tear streams down Cordelia's cheek, the silence finally broken, the emptiness and loneliness in her heart ever since her failed marriage seeing a glimpse of hope right there and at the same time all her insecurities about this crushed as you made your own feelings towards her clear.

''You do?'' she asks, her voice sounding broken and small ''Even after all these years?'' she adds. You open your eyes, trying to muster up a smile but it comes out broken and painful. All you manage to respond with is a nod, a confirmation of her question but quickly realizing a nod could never be powerful enough to make her understand, just how strong your feelings are.

''Cordelia, you are the light in my darkness, that never changed and it will never change, no matter what happens'' you whisper, a tear streaming down your face as you remember all the times she had been there for you and a wave of flashbacks, occupying your mind for a moment.

You feel a soft hand wiping your tears away, snapping you out of your state and the memories, finding the blonde angel in front of you, now inches closer, her own chin trembling at your confession.

Yet again the two of you manage to exchange what is on each other's minds and in each other's hearts through silence. Two sets of eyes locking, two hands intertwining and two hearts beating in synch with and for each other.

''Y/N I-'' the supreme starts but you stop her, a finger gently placed on her pink lips, shushing her gently, part of you not ready to have the confession leave her lips yet, much rather wanting to remember this night through actions.

The minutes seem to fly by, as the white light of the moon fills the greenhouse with light, only adding to how ethereal Cordelia looks right in front of you, her eyes still not having left yours.

''Close your eyes sweetheart'' Cordelia whispers and without hesitating you close your eyes, trusting the supreme blindly with anything. Your heart beats out of your chest as you wait for something, some words filling your ears, something touching you but all you can feel is one of her hands still intertwined with yours, the only thing to be heard each other's breathing.

Suddenly you feel and hear a shaky breath much closer to yours, almost connecting with your own, a split second of hesitation, before your lips part and you feel Cordelia's on your own. Everything stops for a moment, your thoughts, your own heart beating and your lungs stopping you from breathing. Her lips on yours, something you have only dreamed of before, now finally connected with yours, feeling each other for the first time and again a hushed confession of your love for each other.

Opening your eyes, you see the blonde angel so close, her lips still pressed on yours, her eyes closed and a stray tear streaming down her cheek. Neither of you let go until the need for oxygen reminds you both to pull away. You watch as the supreme leans back, carefully and gently, her eyes still closed.

Brown eyes meet yours, a smile plastered on both of your faces, before you wipe her tears, not realizing your own haven't stopped yet. In synch you mend each other again, still taken back by the kiss and both of your senses clouded, while the butterflies in your stomach don't seem to stop fluttering, sending tingles all over your body.

A cheeky smile makes it's way onto Cordelia's features before she whispers ''Now that was much better than silence, wasn't it sweetheart?''. You can't help but smirk, wanting to playfully punch her for the remark but at the same time, loving her for exactly these reasons. ''Much better, darling'' you reply, the same little smirk on your face.

The two of you sit in silence, the moonlight still enlightening the greenhouse, the many plants and details even more beautiful at night but your eyes only being able to focus on Cordelia, still sitting across from you, her hand intertwined with yours, rubbing her thumb over the scar on your hand, like she usually does. After all of these years, you realize it was worth it, all the silence, whispered confessions, worth this exact moment, to have had her lips on your own and even if there are many questions about the future on your mind, you only manage to focus on enjoying this night and feeling content.

[dancingazaleas]

jean kirstein | primrose

i love him so much

y’all can’t see it but i am crying

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL HIMBO

note: this is unedited

warnings/notes: artist!jean, college au!, gardener!reader, cursing, jean’s in love, nsfw, smut, praise, fingering, soft sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, flower language.

jean wouldn’t say he was popular by any means.

everyone knew of him, but it’s not like they actively tried to befriend him or get to know him. he only really talked to the people in his friend group, and even then it was quite spread out. meaning, there were friend groups inside the friend group. jean doesn’t necessarily understand, but he’ll take what he can get.

jean mostly stayed alone on campus, none of his friends were artists. sasha was in a florist course—or something, jean never hears her speak about it—marco was majoring in nursing along with psychology, and connie was... well... connie? jean knew that connie had classes, but he didn’t even know what they were along with his major.

this meant that jean had no friends in his art classes. he wasn’t upset about it though, he always preferred to keep in his bubble. it only really got annoying whenever the professors would give them group projects.

jean’s sighing while he checks his phone, a text message from sasha that says she’s at the campus’s greenhouse finishing up an assignment. jean and sasha usually hang out until three together, waiting for connie and marco to get out of their own classes.

he grunts as he sets off to the greenhouse, not looking forward to the humidity that awaits him outside of the building. the professor made them work in the sprinkling rain?

jean pulls out an umbrella whenever he gets outside. shivering at the almost dramatic temperature drop whenever he steps outside. he trudges through the soggy grass, ignoring the squelching of his shoes and the water.

“where are you,” he asks whenever he steps inside of the greenhouse, closing his umbrella and inhaling the different smells.

the greenhouse is empty besides one person, sitting on their knees as they fill a hole with soil gently.

“huh? did you need something,” you ask as you pull your gaze away from the plant, eyebrows furrowed.

jean feels his face flush, “oh! i’m sorry... my friend said she was here but you’re the only one who’s here.”

you blink and stare, which makes jean sweat. you light up with realization, “you’re talking about sasha right? if so, she’s here still, just needed to use the bathroom in the next building over.”

he utters a thanks while you get back to your work, awkwardly loitering by the door as a way to wait for his friend.

“wh-what’s your name,” he stutters to you, cringing at how his voice echoes against the glass of the building.

“i’m (name) (last name). you?”

“j..jean kirstein. nice to meet you,” he nods with a gulp.

“not to be offensive, and even if i say that, it might be, but you don’t exactly look like a horticultural major. what are you majoring in,” you’ve not looked up from the plant you’re caring for.

“i’m an art major,” he spits out.

you pause your movements and look up to the window for a moment, relaxed smile on your face.

“funny,” you shrug and go back to your task, “i don’t think i’ve ever painted before.”

he relaxes his tense shoulders, shock written all over his pretty face, “you’ve never painted?!”

“nope.”

“what about when you were a kid?”

“no, my parents didn’t approve of messes along with anything that wasn’t proven to meet their standards,” your bottom lip juts out from concentration.

“i see,” he hums, but he really doesn’t. his mother’s always been so supportive of him and whatever he’s chose to do with his life, and still he treated her horribly when he was younger.

“what’s this project even about,” he asks, walking closer to observe your craft.

“sasha and i have to try and grow strawberries on their own... it may not seem too difficult, but strawberries are an absolute pain to maintain care for,” you sigh with disappointment, “but i’m not working on that for right now, i’m just planting for now.”

“what are you planting?” jean’s sure that you’re becoming annoyed with him and all of the questions he’s asking.

you smile a bit, “lilac.”

jean can’t see exactly how that makes you happy or flustered, but considering you’re the expert and he isn’t, he’s not gonna ask. he goes to open his mouth once more, but the greenhouse door creaking open interrupts him.

“sorry jean! there was this long line in the girl’s bathroom,” sasha blurts as she shuffles into the room and shakes the rain off of her shoes.

“it’s fine, don’t worry,” he holds up a hand snd shakes his head.

“oh! (name), you’re still here,” she asks whenever she steps closer.

“yea, just felt like gardening,” you place the pot down gently and look up to her from your place on the floor.

“what’re you plantin’?”

“lilac,” jean answers for her and is once again struck by confusion whenever sasha’s cheeks light up as a smile stretches across her face.

he looks back to you to find you glaring at sasha with a secret knowledge.

“what? what’s so weird about it,” he asks, looking between you two.

“nothing nothing, jeanie boy! c’mon, i want a burger,” she giggles as she waves her hand up and down, turning around to go out of the door.

“didn’t niccolo feed you earlier,” he scoffs, following behind.

“yeah! he made me lobster. anyways, bye (name)!” she grins as she opens the door after taking jean’s umbrella.

jean fusses over her lack of care as he snatches his umbrella back from her and puts it over the both of them. briefly, his mind wonders back to you.

————

next time jean sees you, you’re looking quite frustrated and upset as you shovel dirt into a an empty pot. sasha is, once again, going to the bathroom in the building over.

“are you alright,” he’s hesitant.

you jump up, not even noticing him once he’d walked in. you relax while you sigh, eyebrows bunching up in frustration.

“i’m okay,” it seems you’re telling yourself this more than you tell jean, “my parents are just being upsetting.”

jean gets a text from sasha, telling him that she’s going to go to the bathroom in the main building since the line was too long. he doesn’t care for some reason, instead taking a seat beside you on the ground.

“wanna talk about it,” he asks, his body warm next to your’s.

you sigh for the umpteenth time, “we’ve only met once and i’d feel as if i would be dumping this onto you.”

“i don’t mind. if you don’t want to speak about it, i won’t force you,” he shrugs.

“well,” you start with reluctance, “my family’s always been judgmental of how i should be allowed to spend my time. not only that, but careers, interests, and friends.”

“and i assume they’ve said something about your major,” he assumes, slightly sad as you nod.

“bingo. they don’t think it’s sophisticated enough for me, but i’m not too sophisticated myself. i’m barely an adult, i’ve just turned 19. why they won’t let me be a kid is beyond me,” you gently lay the seed into the soil of the pot.

“i’ve never had this issue, so i can’t say that i completely understand or that what i say will help. however, good parents shouldn’t treat their child like that. you’re your own person, they shouldn’t be trying to limit you and your experiences. it’s not fair to you,” he says, “you’re parents are ignorant.”

you stifle a laugh, “thank you, jean. i appreciate it, genuinely.”

his cheeks flush as he nods, telling you that it was just something a friend would do for another.

“what’s your instagram,” you ask, swiftly pulling your phone from your pocket and pulling up the app.

he tells you nervously, three dings emitting from his phone in his pocket. one follow, one like, and one message.

jean finds himself texting you at nine pm.

————

jean finds himself giddy a few months later. he’s talked to you nonstop ever since he’s gotten your instagram, easily falling for you as he learns more about you.

he’s teaching you how to paint today. or, not really teach, but just helping you get started.

he sits on his couch while he waits, opting to watch some k-drama that connie recommend to him. he tells you that you can just walk in since the door’s unlocked, but jean has a feeling you would’ve just walked in anyways.

he hugs you excitedly whenever you walk in, leading you over to one of the easel and canvases he’s set up for you. he looks at your outfit.

“you’re wearing that?” he asks, not really thinking before he speaks.

“yea...? gotta problem with it,” you’re immediately defensive, and it has jean bouncing back with realization.

“oh my god, i meant you’re wearing that to paint? you’re outfit looks good on you! it’s cute! n-not to say that you’re cute or anything! er—i don’t mean that you’re not cute!” jean flushes, “i am... going to stop talking..”

you giggle at him, “it’s okay jean, i know what you mean.”

“o-okay,” he relaxes, “do you need to borrow any clothes? i don’t want your shirt to get dirtied.”

“just a shirt, your pants wouldn’t fit me,” you ask while you untuck your loose white button up from your jeans.

he scurries off to find you a shirt, slapping himself on the forehead in embarrassment. he grabs you a light grey shirt with paint splotches scattered on it, which he’s once painted a mural in.

he turns his back to you whenever he gives you the shirt, instead focusing on the collection of painting supplies he’s set out on his work tray. he’s chosen acrylics for you, claiming that they’re the easiest to do if you’re a beginner. you have a feeling that he’s lying, especially since he’s an art major.

“are we painting anything specific,” you ask and sit down on the stool provided for you.

“actually, i was thinking of letting you choose. maybe some flowers or plants since they help you relax,” he contemplates aloud, hand pressed to his chin.

“let’s paint a sunflower,” you say reluctantly, “they should be easy enough to paint.”

he nods, starting put small spurts of paint onto his pallet. you mimic his actions, carefully stroking the canvas with your paintbrush.

“relax your shoulders,” he suggests, noticing just how stiff you are, “if you’re too stiff then the painting will be too. this is about relaxing.”

“i just don’t want to make any mistakes.”

“hey, like bob ross always says; there are no mistakes, just happy accidents,” jean gives a lazy smile as he continues to paint.

you laugh at him, finally relaxing your body and brushing the brush across the canvas. you both chat absentmindedly as you paint, finding comfort in one another’s voice and movements. you’re both playing 20 questions, if you can call a conversation that.

“the most embarrassing thing... probably walking in on my friends having sex,” he briefly remembers his friend, bertholdt, on top of reiner, “it’s how they came out to me.”

you cackle, “oh my god!! they must’ve been mortified!!”

“they were, i felt so bad for walking in on them. now, it’s a funny joke since they’re both out to everyone,” he snickers, “now, where’s your favorite place on earth that you’ve been to?”

“a amusement park over in marley. snuck off with my first ever boyfriend there,” you stroke your brush once more, “or maybe the swimming pool in my parents house. anywhere that i can feel weightless.”

he hums in acknowledgment, “mine’s out in the forest probably. i like it quiet.”

“quiet is always nice. so, jean, have you ever had a girlfriend,” you laugh at jean’s face scrunch up from a childish question.

“yeah, i’ve had one. it went really well at first but it turns out that she likes girls. it hurt at first, cause i loved her, but i got over it. i’ve got no hard feelings against her, she can’t help liking girls. her and i are just really close friends now,” he has a fond smile on his face as he thinks of mikasa.

“i’m glad the two of you are still friends, and i’m sure that she appreciates your kindness to her,” you reciprocate a smile.

“me too. anyways, since you want to dive into my love life, let’s dive into your’s. have you ever been in love?”

you face heats up while you pause your movements, “y-yeah. not until recently though.”

jean’s eyes widen as his own cheeks flush a bright red, and for once he prays.

he prays that it’s him you’re in love with.

————

a month later and you still have the painting of a sunflower that jean did. it makes you embarrassed every time you look at it, even though jean didn’t know the meaning behind the flower.

you sit on the floor of the greenhouse, ignoring how the rain thumps gently on the glass roof. jean’s sitting beside you, leaning all of his weight on your body, which makes you laugh.

“you never told me what you’re planting,” he points out while adding more of his weight onto you.

you laugh while you shove him off of you, “i can’t with you on me like that.”

“well, now i’m not on you so,” he grins cockily, and you want to smack it off of him.

“okay, okay! i’m planting a primrose,” you say while you gently plant a seed into the soil.

“what’s the occasion?”

“what do you mean,” you raise a questioning eyebrow.

“my dad always got my mom those flowers on valentine’s day or for their anniversary. now, my mom puts them on his grave. it means ‘i can’t live without you’ or symbolizes young love,” he explains, “who’re they for?”

embarrassment hits you like truck. you were planting these for jean. whenever they were blooming, you were going to give them to him. thank god you didn’t.

you laugh nervously, “no one! i just felt like planting them! they’re pretty flowers.”

“whatever you say,” jean shrugs, heart tingling with pain.

whenever the flowers had bloomed, you stood at jean’s doorstep with the pot in your hands. your cheeks were hot as you stared at your feet, hoping to god that jean felt the same way towards you.

when jean opens his door, he doesn’t expect to see you holding the potted plant. you’d told him that it wasn’t for anyone and it wasn’t for him, so why’d you have it. did you want him to take care of it or something?

“for you,” you stumble over your words a bit while you thrust the pot against his chest.

it’s his turn to be embarrassed, these are for him! the flower is so pretty, full bloom and showing itself off towards the sun. jean hurries to place the pot on his living room coffee table, then he pounces.

his arms wrap around you and hold you close, his face is emitting a heat when he pulls away to look at you.

“me too,” you look at him confused, “i love you too.”

you feel like crying, for some reason this means the absolute world to you. you wrap your arms around his neck, not able to hold back the tears forming in your eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner,” he laughs while squeezing you tight.

“i did,” your laughter is muffled until he pulls away.

“when?”

“since we met. granted, i didn’t expect to meet you that day. lilac means the start of a new love. and then i told you again when you painted the sunflower again. sunflowers mean pure love,” you wipe away tears as jean pulls you inside his house by your hand.

“i’m such an idiot,” he smacks a palm to his forehead, “that’s what you and sasha were laughing about when we met, wasn’t it?”

“yea,” you watch him lead you to his bedroom, somewhere that you’ve been to on many occasions.

he crawls into bed beside you, pulling you closer to him—if it were even possible. he’s littering your face with soft kisses that tickle your skin and make you giggle.

“what are you doing?!”

“i’ve been wanting to do this since i’ve met you, give me a break,” he mumbles against your skin, lips finally making contact with your’s.

the kiss is sweet like candy, and you almost can’t take it. you deepen the kiss without hesitation, surprising jean, who obviously reciprocates. you whimper against jean’s mouth whenever you grant him access to explore your own.

he pulls away, a shy look in his eyes that tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“yes, jean. as long as you’re gentle,” you put a hand on top his cheek, stroking it gently.

he smiles before asking his next question shyly, “could we... do a different position? one that isn’t missionary.”

“jean, i’ve only had sex a few times. all were in missionary and were hookups. as long as it’s with you, i don’t mind what we do,” you reassure, scooting closer to him.

he’s surprised that his face doesn’t burst into flames, at this point.

“okay... could you... turn around,” your face twists into confusion, “you’ll find out.”

it sounds ominous, but since it’s jean, you don’t mind. you turn your back to him, shivering whenever his lips kiss at the nape of your neck. his chest presses against your back and he slips one of his arms under the arm against the bed.

his lips bite on your neck while his hands sliver their way up to your boobs. you sit up for a moment, pulling the loose shirt you were wearing off of your body. you shimmy your pants off while you’re at it, easily flopping back into jean’s arms.

god, he’s so close to fainting just from seeing you without clothes. especially when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra.

his hands grope at your chest, rolling your nipples through his nimble fingers. you whimper shyly, hand coming up to grab at his own.

“cute,” he smiles whenever you look over your shoulder, the same hand drifting from your tit to the waistline of your panties.

his hand reaches inside your hand plain underwear as you willingly spread your legs open, something you’re secretly embarrassed about, but you decide to ignore it anyways. with hesitance, his fingertip comes in contact with your clit. you flinch at the contact and let out a gasp, once again squeezing at his hand.

“spread your legs wider for me, love,” he murmurs in your ear, nudging his wrist against your thigh.

you oblige silently, hooking your foot around the back of jean’s knee.

“good girl,” he smiles, two fingers gently pressing against your clit after he’s wet them with his spit.

you moan out whenever jean starts rubbing lazy circles into your clit and his other hand gropes at your tit. your hips buck forward on instinct, which has you biting your lip from embarrassment.

“can you try to keep your hips still for me,” he kisses at your earlobe, stubble scratching against your neck.

you nod to him, even if you both know that you won’t uphold that promise.

whenever his fingers move up a speed, so does the volume of your moans.

“jean,” you whimper, “i’m gonna cum.”

“it’s okay, you’ve been so good for me, my pretty girl. go ahead and cum,” he smiles against your skin, once again speeding up his tempo.

your nails are biting into his wrist as your hips start to buck almost uncontrollably. your head is thrown back while you open your mouth in a silent scream and your eyes roll back. jean slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

his smile stretches wider when he holds his fingers up to the light, admiring how the digits glistened in against the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. he also manages to take off your panties.

he puts the two fingers in your mouth once he’s done admiring them, cooing praises in your ear. a string of salvia is connect to his fingertips whenever he pulls them out of your mouth, making you whine in embarrassment. he chuckles and reaches his warm hand back down to your wet cunt.

you gasp at the coldness of your spit coming into contact with your heated entrance. his fingers enter you slowly and cautiously and it takes your breath away.

“you’re so tight,” still smiling, “when’s the last time you’ve gotten laid, pretty girl?”

“f-fuck... maybe like... six months ago,” you pant like a dog in heat.

“it’s good thing you’ve got me now, huh? gonna take care of you now.”

you’re squeezing your pretty eyes closed while you adjust to the feeling of two fingers inside of you. jean feels himself memorizes the look on your face in his brain whenever he gives a shallow thrust with his fingers. you wiggle your hips a bit, whining out for jean to give you more.

he does exactly that.

he starts to finger you slowly, eventually speeding up the speed as you get more and more used to the feeling. his fingers curl against your sweet spot that has you bucking your hips once again.

“there! there,” you buck again when he continues to brush over it.

angling his fingers just right, he starts to thrust and curl his fingers inside of you at the perfect speed.

“fuck! fuck! fuck!” you gasp whenever your toes start to curl.

“are you gonna cum again? it’s okay. go ahead and cum on my fingers, pretty girl,” he reassures while pecking at your neck lazily.

you come once again after a few seconds pass, legs shaking when jean doesn’t slow down his speed.

“can’t...! i can’t cum again,” you whimper while arching your back against jeans torso.

“i know you can,” he whispers, “gotta prepare you for my cock, remember?”

his filthy words make you mewl as you feel yourself already approaching another orgasm quickly. you scream whenever you orgasm again, hips jerking back and forth wildly as his other hand starts rubbing on your puffy little clit.

you’re crying from the intensity. you’re sure that if you’d be able to take all of this if you had fucked anyone these past six months.

instead of slowing down, jean actually speeds up his movements again. you know that you’re mascara might be smearing, you can’t remember if it’s waterproof, tear proof—what the fuck ever.

your legs convulse when jean manages to work you up to another mind blowing orgasm. but this time, you squirt all over jean’s hand and the insides of your plump thighs.

“there we go,” he praises, “that’s what i needed.”

he’s finally slowing his fingers down, and you wonder if they’re aching at the moment.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” you babble as your nails scratch at his wrist.

“such a sweet girl, thanking me when i haven’t even trained you.”

your chest is heaving up and down while jean pulls his cock out of his pants, a moment’s rest.

you gulp whenever you see his dick. you didn’t believe sasha’s jokes whenever she said jean not only had a horse face but also a horse cock. how she knew, you didn’t ask, but either way she was right. you’d have to apologize to sasha for not heeding her warnings after this.

“don’t be scared, love. i’ll take care of you,” he comforts you while pulling your leg up a bit.

his fingers squeeze at the soft flesh that’s the back of your thigh, instructing you on how to insert himself in your tight little pussy.

after guiding jean’s cock in you, you sob out from just how much he fills you up already. you don’t take a pause, too eager to feel jean inside of you.

noticing this, jean hooks his arm around your thigh and grabs your hand. the angle has his hitting spots that he hadn’t before, pussy fluttering around his cock in effect.

“be patient,” he demands in a soft tone, his hand guiding your own, “i don’t want to hurt you.”

“don’t care, need you so bad,” you sniffle and wiggle your hips once more, ignoring the slight burn.

sighing, jean carefully thrusts the rest of his cock inside of you. you sob out in both pleasure and pain, hand now going back to scratching at his wrist.

“i told you, sweet girl,” you look at him from over your shoulder, “you gotta listen to me.”

“‘m sorry,” you whimper while jean kisses away a tear.

“t’s okay, now just wait until your comfortable,” he advises, unhooking his arm from your thigh and holding it with his hand.

it takes a minute or two, but jean is nothing but attentive during this. thumb stroking your thigh, lips kissing your neck and cheek, whispering quietly in your ear that you’re doing so well.

when you’re ready, he thrusts into you softly. he doesn’t want to hurt you, even when his dick hurts from not cumming. after seeing you’re alright with it, he thrusts more vigorously. with your skin slapping against one another’s tenderly and tits bouncing jean is groaning in your ear.

the hand not holding your thigh holds onto your boob, pinching your nipple and then rolling it in between his fingers again. the kisses he’s pressing against your shoulder feels so hot and sweet against your sweaty skin.

your whines and moans are so cute, begging for jean to cum at the same time you do and for him to come inside.

“you want my cum in you,” he pants, “anything you want since you’ve asked so nicely.”

he speeds his hips up just a bit, guttural groans coming from his throat as your pussy grips him like a vise.

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you’re mewling almost makes jean black out.

“i’m right behind you, go ahead, love,” his eyebrows bunch together as he nears his orgasm.

after two more thrusts, the both of you are coming. jean’s groans are surprisingly starting to turn into soft moans, which is something you’ll try to get out of him another time.

after you both come down from your high, jean’s pulling his softening dick out of you. he lays on his backside, pulling your weak body on top of his chest with ease.

“love you,” he smiles and gives you a kiss.

“primrose love,” you smile goofily at him.

“primrose love.”

[pseudonympls]

Love Blooms - Part 8 - From Fear - Teaser

I shamefully wished, in my deepest, most sordid thoughts, that Bo would show up. Windswept and worn from our time apart, but eyes bright and expectant to see me. I ran away, and a small part of me had expected him to follow. Had silently prayed for it. Prayed for him to follow the pattern that we had carved out over our last year together. And I, forever a slave to my own naivete, believed that he would return to me. Could return to me. 

“Is there-is there any more ginger?” I glanced around the kitchen, laden with pots and pans - all clean, mind you. Communal living took me back to the years where I studied for my nursing degree, how difficult it seemed to merely exist around others, once you were used to living alone.

“I’m sorry Em, I’ve got to accompany Doctor Phillips in surgery, just about to go in,” Wendy said on her way out of the room, “I trust you can find it in the greenhouse?” She said, clearly rushed off her feet, and I couldn’t help but bemoan the fact that it was because of me that everyone else was being worked to the bone. We are only ever as strong as the weakest among us - and this time I knew that it was me. 

“Thick, fibrous green stalks, slender leaves, I checked on them only the other day, they should be ready, just don’t lose the roots, this time eh?” she snickered, her eyes full of the sorrow and pity I had grown to hate, but simultaneously had learnt to be bulletproof against. If I wasn’t being sick I was inwardly mourning the loss of the future me and baby would have, a life without the father - without Bo, not a chance to be loved by him ever again. Because of me. Because of my choices. 

Silvery tendrils of grief laced themselves around my neck, tightening at the knowledge that Bo wouldn’t even know he was to be a father, and would likely die in ignorance. The thought constricted my throat to an uncomfortable degree, but I nodded along to Wendy’s instructions, and made my way to the greenhouse. Past the patients in their gowns reclining on the benches, dotted around the gardens. Past the children, the mobile ones frolicking amongst the tall grasses, playing invisible games. Wishing to be anywhere but in such a place of sickness. Our peacetime a long forgotten memory in this disease of a war. 

The greenhouse was a gorgeous relic from the Victorian era, shrouded in pale glass and delicate wrought iron curves that were telltale of the time period. When everything from flour, to soap, to coal was rationed, the opulence seemed ostentatious, almost brash, nowadays. 

The down right decadence of the architecture was an artefact of more prosperous times. The curved petal-like panes of glass were surrounded by star bright rays pointing outward, and the arched supports were filled with swirls and swoops of metal work reminiscent of jewellery worn by the eponymous Queen herself.

Towering over the smaller planters, running parallel along the length of the building, were trees that reached the full height of the greenhouse, palm leaves that looked so beautifully exotic. Temperatures inside the greenhouse echoed those of the climes it was meant to mimic, the hot, damp interior of the building made of glass caused a dewy sweat to break out on my upper lip. Though I reassured myself that I wouldn’t be in there long, just long enough to retrieve the ginger. Inside lay other plants that weren’t commonly grown in England - pale white orchids and flame like celosia. Despite the hot summer’s weather, it was too risky to plant any of these beautiful buds outside, lest a frost would catch them unawares on a particularly cold night. I spied the unmistakable slender green leaves, curling around in their abundance.  Sweetly nestled beneath the soil was my saving grace, a small tincture of relief, however brief it would be. 

Having brushed the errant soil off of the beige bulbs of ginger I stood back up, only to have my balance suddenly thrown off. As if the whole world were shuddering beneath my feet. An earthquake in central London? Surely not…My hand came out to catch my fall, sliding along the shiny glass as I bumped clumsily back into the greenhouse door. When I eventually righted myself, I felt off kilter, askew, my balance all but gone. I closed my eyes and went to bring my palm to my chest, to still the tremorous thrumming of my heart, before my arm was caught unawares by something. Something large that was jutting out of my light blue dress, straining under my white apron.

I shuddered a cry - my belly thick and swollen beneath me, almost rippled with a movement, and I felt them. Felt them flutter around inside me, so soft and delicate, ‘twould have put a butterfly's wings to shame. At once, something so beautiful and so wanted, yet the circumstance couldn’t have been further from ideal. My breaths were thick and laboured as they swooned around inside me, and I backed out of the greenhouse, letting the ginger drop to the floor in my haste.

The weather that was a balmy summer’s afternoon upon my entrance to the greenhouse, was now a freezing cold winter’s bite that nipped at my skin, and the way the sleet fell against my clothes soaked me rapidly to the bone. All the patients that were enjoying the warm afternoon were gone. The garden an icy, barren wasteland, the deciduous trees spiky in their emptiness, the buds having retreated into the cold winter’s embrace. Thick, grey clouds prevented barely a sliver of daylight from breaking through. It was so dark, and visibility so bad that I struggled to see anything at all, but I did see him.

The iron gates, curved in their splendour beheld the only figure on the horizon. There he stood, tall as giants, his weather worn clothes sticking to him in the frozen rain. His hair a touch longer than I had seen it before, a tentative curl at the ends that just begged to be spun around my finger. The sharp jaw that I had adored had grown a new friend, thick tufts of darker blond graced his jawline, but it was unmistakably him. Unmistakably Bo. A crash of thunder and a flash of light, and both of our faces illuminated as they tilted skyward - the rain hammered ever harder down on us. Slicing against my sensitive skin, now feeling as if it would split open and bleed if I was to stay outside for even a second longer.

“Emily!” I heard his deep boom cleave through the sheets of rain, his loud footfalls splashing into the puddles that lay between us. The gap between us closing, not in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d have him back with me…with us. Without hesitation my palm came to my tummy, as if to tell our child what they already knew - he was here - he was home.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

~

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself. 

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings. 

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair. 

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table. 

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

[prof-peach]

Hello Professor Peach!

I've followed your account recently and I was wondering. What types of Pokemon would I need to run a sucessful greenhouse like yours?! I know that I would obviously need Grass Types and maybe Bug Types, but what others would I need?

Thanks in advance!

From a fellow Grass Type and Nature Lover!

We have several greenhouses on the island, as we specialise in grass Pokemon, so I’ll run though what each has and why.

Seedling house

Set up for young sprouts, both plant and Pokemon based, with some areas shaded with netting, others in full sun. This space needs to be easy to clean, and you’ll find yourself disinfecting between sowing, to reduce fatalities and get the most out of your seeds!

Bulbasaur (potato) a good boy, old as sin now, but his gentle lullaby helps young plants grow, and keeps the baby Pokemon calm and settled. You DO NOT want a whole greenhouse worth of baby Pokemon crying, trust me. He’s stern but patient, and this is why he works well in this space, as he will not tolerate bad behaviour, and raises the youngsters with a firm but kind vibe. His vines are delicate and intricate enough to handle young seedlings, and because he himself is partially plant, he understands the needs of actual plants very well. His age also helps, he’s quite good at delegating and can boss the other workers around, and hold their respect. He has a few underlings he is training to help while he’s away, a sunflora, a turtwig, and a nuzleaf, all of which enjoy the work too.

Lotad, we keep a lot of these, as they tend to come and go. Usually we have around 4-5 in the seedling house at any one time, their broad leaves make them good at carrying things, moving trays of babies, and genrally handling youngsters, and they can usually learn water gun with some training, thus making them excellent at keeping the place well watered (but not too much). Their plant nature means they’re quite respective of small species,and tend not to crush any small sprouts if they can avoid it. They do however hibernate if it gets too cold, so it may be worth employing the help of a more winter tolerant water Pokemon if need be. We swap the Lotad out for Wooper in winter, they are small, not often too hard to handle, easy to find in our area, and kind natured on average.

There’s a old Pangoro that hangs out in this house, often happy to help lifting tables to move and rearrange spaces for new species, or to help do the big spring cleaning jobs each year. His disposition is far mor W gentle than normal, so I’d advise finding a patient, gentle Pokemon, who can do some heavy lifting. It’s always worth having a powerful individual here, as lots of Pokemon look to seedlings as snacks. As a defence, this pangoro works well, and birds and bugs tend not to enter the zone without his watchful eye on them.

A rather old Espeon without a tail likes to sleep in there too, her psychic powers means she can handle threats without big brash movements, and she tends to quietly spend her days just keep guard, and genrally being a watchful eye should the Pangoro mosey off to eat or bathe outside the greenhouse. This is a good example of shift Pokemon. When one is gone, the other is more alert and active as a guard. Never have just one Pokemon to a job, as they too need time out, breaks, vacations and down time to enjoy and relax. It’s too much to expect one individual to do everything.

Youngsters often enjoy a nightlight, so we let the volbeat and illumise into the greenhouse at night, to dance and keep a gentle glow in the area. The young seedling Pokemon are often stuck in pots, unable to move about yet, so they enjoy entertainment, and some are not keen on the deep dark of night outside. This settles them, and these bug types don’t eat seedlings, so they’re often great company.

In winter, we move one of greys charizard in to heat the space and protect the babies from frost. We have around 6 charizard on the island, and they are sometimes well behaved. We have the most calm and maternal in this house, she is a gentle soul, and I’d often not advise others to use this species for this work. A better fit would be Torkoal, known for exuding gentle heat continuously with enough food, or perhaps a Darumaka, Numel, or carkol. They tend to have much calmer natures for fire types, and ambient lay heat spaces well. Frost is a killer for seedlings so this is very important. As a grower, you also end up with infected or sick plant matter (trimmings and such) and the only way to responsibly dispose of that is to burn it. This keeps the risk of spreading infections far lower, and you won’t end up putting sickly, potentially fungus filled material into your compost, and in turn spreading it around. Fire is very important in the garden, in a controlled and careful way of course.

Healing house

This space is half open space, half I solated zones, built for recovery and care. When a Pokemon or plant becomes sick, they need specialist care, and sometimes they can spread their illness to others, so having an area to quarentine them and cure any issues is very important. This space needs to be fuss free, able to be disinfected easily, ideally with drains in the floor (much like you’d see at a swimming pool or something) so you can slosh down some disinfectant and ready the spaces for the next patient. Think of a glass topped kennel, that’s what you’re going for here.

Meganium, (summer) a lovely lady who’s been with me a while now, she’s quite resistant to disease thanks to her variation, and so she’s ideal for working in these kinds of environments. Despite this I would not mix her with a Pokemon who’s seriously sick, she’s more the “nurse” figure of the greenhouse, who oversees everything while I’m away. Her roles require her to be caring, and very calm despite seeing many in alarming states. The Pokemon doing this job needs to have a will of steel, and a strong stomach. Some diseases are quite unnerving to see progress. Keeping a bright outlook is a key component to this work. She’s able to emit a soothing aura, filling a space with gentle scent that can calm, energise, or even put patients to sleep. Her vines make her dexterous enough to hold tools and perform general care tasks like sweeping and watering ect.

I have befriended some Marill, a small pod of about 12, who come and go to help water and keep the place cleaned up. Their jolly natures are great for patients who are isolated while healing, and as they aren’t grass types, many of the individuals inside this space can interact with them, and not risk spreading illness (most of the time). They’re a little more rough and ready than the seedling watering team, but this is ok, as we don’t often keep youngsters in this house. They like to be paid in snacks, but others prefer toys, stories, games, and even tv time. Negotiating a fair deal for everyone is very key here, a Pokemon taut feels cheated will do a bad job. If they’re happy, you’ll be happy, trust me.

Audino, not often a Pokemon I discuss much, and don’t even use in the main lab, as this particular Audino has been trained to deal with grass issues specifically. She flunked out with her old trainer at medical college, so I took her on and tried to focus her in on something a bit more practical. She’s not able to catch a lot of grass issues due to her normal nature, and is a handy healer to have around. She’s actually quite a lazy individual, and is often found asleep in the staff room when not working.

This space will also require a dedicated burner Pokemon, a fire type to remove infected and dangerous tissues taken from infected patients. I often use Valka (vulpix) for this job, as she’s usually with me, and this greenhouse is where I spend the majority of my time, and she’s very efficient.

I advise you not use grass Pokemon so much in this greenhouse, as sick grass Pokemon tend to be more infectious to other grass types. You’ll often find me using normal, ground, or rock types, with strong immune systems, or individuals with calm natures, as this space sees a lot of unnerving things, and needs level headed individuals.

Tropics house

Also known as the hot house, as when you enter it you break into a sweat. Humidity is high, temperature is high, ceilings are high. This is a 4 floor tall building, all glass, planted like a jungle, with varying canopy levels, sunken pond spaces, and dense lush greenery. I also keep my orchid collection here, and you’ll find many bug types are drawn to the colours and smells. This is the highest skill level greenhouse behind the healing house, and I’d advise you try to start with one of the more simple ones firstly, should you be new to this kind of work. Heating this space is done with hot water pipes, and the whole building is lined with sprinkler systems that runs on a timer. Every 15 minutes everything gets doused with a thick, cooling fine mist.

This is where the Queen of my Bellossom clutch hangs around, she’s quite something to see, far larger, with soft pink coloured petal skirt, and a real air of royalty about her. The whole greenhouse respects her as she’s proven her skill as a leader many times, resolving conflicts with reason and patience. She may not be the strongest, but she’s certainly smart, and can lead with an iron fist need be. She is good with visitors, as this greenhouse is public, and open to visitors, unlike the previous ones mentioned above. She is a good overseer, and saves me a lot of time and trouble, fixing squabbles and keeping everyone calm. She is at the top of the hierarchy, and can request help from just about everyone else within this space, and they’ll oblige.

There’s a substantial Tangrowth who chills out in this zone, usually sleeping in a sunny patch at the back, he’s usually left child minding, as many of the Pokemon within have young of their own, and need a good baby sitter. Something that’s sturdy, with a lot of arms to keep tabs in them all (he just ties a vine to them and lets them run riot while he dozes) he can be quite defensive of the young but this is good, as the public spaces are more likely to be stolen from, and as we handle a lot of variants, security is needed. People like to steal young Pokemon when they’re unusual or rare.

Tsareena, a power house, acts as a guard, and works with a couple of Lurantis, who all enjoy the heat and have high prey drives. Should someone try to nab a baby, wade into a dangerous area, or start a fight within the greenhouse, they’ll step in, crushing most things in their path without too much issue. The Lurantis is actually one of quite a few, and should they become overwhelmed, they’ll call the others in as backup. This lot keep the peace physically, and can stop fights (as you don’t want broken glass in this space).

The windows need to be cleaned to keep the light levels high, so we often employ flying or psychic Pokemon to get us up higher to handle this work. I use whatever is around at the time, but often a good ladder will do the trick if you have a shorter building than ours.

Watering is actually done mostly with hoses and irrigation in this greenhouse but we do have one water type who resides within, in a deep pond in the centre. A Dreadnaw, Tobi, who came back with me from Galar quite recently. He’s very docile for his type, so we figured he’d enjoy the calm jungle vibes of this zone. He occasionally wades out to wander around and water things, keeping a close eye on everyone. Their species is renown for biting and aggression but Tobi is rather chilled out, and has taken to being the biggest water type in the space quite well. He shares his pond with a couple of small relicanth, and the odd little water type who comes in out of curiosity, along with a small pod of Lotad. He keeps things very damp, even in the dry corners, and often will listen to grass Pokemon who need extra water, and come over to assist.

No fire type in this building as all damaged or trimmed material should be collected and removed from the area, to be either composted, burnt, or used as cutting material elsewhere.

We encourage bug types in this space for the most part, as they feed other Pokemon, and also pollinate. This space has fruit trees and flowers, so we leave the windows open for whatever may want to enter to look around (and for airflow). The general temperament of the greenhouse is pretty calm, tanks to the balance of staff Pokemon, so if an aggressive bug comes in, it’s soon chased out. causing trouble isn’t tolerated within this space.

This greenhouse is abll about emulating nature, so taking trips to more jungle locations may benefit you here. I’d suggest doing detailed research, and studying established locations before building this zone, as there’s a lot of foundation work to be concidered, like water, piping, irrigation, airration, and light levels.

Desert house

Hot in the day, cooler at night, dry, often sparser in style. Very bright! This is a common space for a lot of variations, and also cacti based Pokemon. We have an array of desert species hanging out here, but also a lot of rock types. This is a petty easy going space, not a lot of water needed, but certainly care none the less.

A heater! We use a Heatmore, who seems to enjoy the general ambience, and is stroppy enough that the cacti Pokemon can’t bully him or get into too much trouble. He keeps the space hot in the winter, and not too cold at night, he will occasionally drop his workload in the summer when the temperatures are high enough without him. We trade him out with a Slazzle from time to time, should he require time out.

Watering is sparse, we call in one Politode now and then to drench the space, then leave it to dry out quite a bit. There’s of course places for Pokemon to drink from, small water features and the odd trough to get a drink from, but the species here don’t require half as much as others, and will happily go two or more weeks without more than morning dew. We tend to keep an eye on things and use a hose when we catch the odd Pokemon or plant who needs a little extra.

Cacturn is the boss of this space, and works hard to maintain a firm level of control over the many little Pokemon who live in this house. He’s old now, with many arms, not just the initial two, standing at around 9ft tall, with very thick limbs. He’s not kind as such but only really shows his mean side if you mess with him or the ones he protects. This is a space that’s open to the public, so we have to employ his power to protect from theft.

This space contains a lot of young alpine Pokemon too, bulbasaur, oddish, and some fun variants of Crustle who have plants atop their backs. There’s a strong nod to those who can handle drought, and so it’s a great starting greenhouse for anyone who’s a little forgetful. We also keep quite a few Sudowoodo and their pre-evolutions here, as they dig the dry air. They also help in creating rockery areas with their attacks and strength, that suit the area and the Pokemon within.

Carnivorous house

Not easy to plan but simple enough to keep. They need boggy conditions, lots of open light areas, and genrally this space is quite wild looking, certainly not tended, and I’d advise you get some waders or wellies for the work done here. Water types and bog Pokemon will love this space, and it should be protected from the frost, for those who do not like the cold.

Carnivine, often found hanging from vines within the space, they have a very particular diet, and I tend to run the tours for visitors to this greenhouse, to make sure no one gets chewed on. There’s quite a few colours and shapes, but they don’t do,innate the space as much as others. Their ungodly shrieking can be wonderful alarms to danger, and I totally advise having a few around, even if only for their comedic value and friendship.

The champions of this space are Victreebell and it’s pre-evolutions. I’ve kept many, and variants are something I research, so you can imagine the amount collected here. They’re very handy in summer should you get large infestations of bug Pokemon anywhere else, as their diet is all about eating other living things, and they don’t like rich soil or plant feed at all. Herd them to the bugs that bother you and let them hunt, you’ll soon have things under control again.

There’s a lot of Mudkip, Stunkfish, Quagsire, you know, mud lovers, and their watery ways can mean you have a lot of Pokemon able to keep the water levels high. This space needs to almost be submerged in water at all times, dry roots can lead to unhealthy buddies.

One thing to note is windows. You need to have access for bugs in this space. The species within have specific diets that Pokemon food doesn’t quite do justice, so allowing them to lure bugs in with their scent, and eat healthy correct diets will lead to far better health for your carnivorous friends.

Extra notes:

Theres the obvious, a standard, sturdy, average grow house. The beautiful basics to all the areas I’ve discussed above. Without just a space to store, to care, to grow, and to keep, none of the beautiful public spaces would look half as good. We have overflow greenhouses for winter, for overcrowding, for if the torterra want to come in, or if we get a large herd of Tropius sent to us who hate the frost. Grass types come in a lot of shapes and sizes, but should a large set come your way, these spare zones come in handy. If you have the space, set a few up, even if they’re storage most of the time, they will come in handy eventually. There’s a lot that happens behind the scenes, so make room for this.

THERE IS NO RIGHT SET OF POKEMON. I mean this seriously, I picked who I knew would suit the work, it’s not right for everyone. Grass Pokemon may have a good understanding of what plants and other grass types need, but you need to find species who are caring and patient. I’ve seen a lot of grass Pokemon who are fighters, impatient, stroppy and even aggressive, and they’d not suit this kind of work at all. You need to pick your team based on their personality, not just their type or species. Take your time and don’t be afraid to switch out their work load, try new things, and test an unusual Pokemon in a job position if you see potential in them. It’s a myth that grass Pokemon will be best for other grass Pokemon. I find I use a lot of other types to handle them, and often bugs will chew and eat at your grass types, so you have to pick carefully. Be clever with your research on this all.

Don’t think this set of Pokemon will take the workload off of your shoulders. A greenhouse needs YOUR time too, you need to throw some tough gloves on and get stuck in, or your team mates won’t feel enthusiastic about the work. Lead by example, work hard with them, weed and sow seed, trim, care for, and be part of the process, and it will feel all the sweeter when plants and Pokemon bloom and grow into beautiful things.

I find if you get stuck, if a Pokemon or plant won’t grow right, or keeps getting sick, take a step back, reevaluate what your method is, and take a look at their home. We forget that every plant and Pokemon has an actual originating location, and if we can emulate those conditions, their survival chances go up drastically! It’s not always easy, so don’t be afraid to google stuff, whip your phone out and have a good scroll around. There’s no such thing as a stupid question, so ask anything and everything.

A cheeky helpful tip, some Pokemon learn sleep powder, and many think that this move doesn’t affect other grass types, which is a pain because this move is very handy when dealing with difficult Pokemon. It in fact does affect other grass types, but only those who cannot also learn the attack. So an oddish can put a Leafeon to sleep who cannot learn the move, but not a Morelull, who can also learn sleep powder.

This was a BIG ONE but we have a lot of greenhouse, all catered for differently, so here’s hoping this helps your endeavours.

[queercode-my-minecraft]

Emptober Day 2: Bug

Rating: G

Word Count: 1715

Relationships: Katherine Elizabeth / Shubble (Shrub), Shubble (Shrub) & Scott Smajor

Characters: Shubble (Shrub), Katherine Elizabeth

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Victorian Era, implied era accurate homophobia, And They Were Neighbours, Lavender Marriage, First Meeting, Shrub is a scientist

ao3 link

Katherine slipped out of the carriage and looked up at the house in front of her.

The building stood proudly with its white stone and lavish golden details glinting in the timid sunlight.

She wondered what type of person her new neighbours were, as she began making her way up the front steps. Perhaps they were nobles, come from an ancient family, or perhaps they just had an elegant and refined taste in architecture. And an interest in gardens, she presumed, having seen the luxurious land around the house and how well maintained it was.

A servant opened the front door for her and she stepped inside.

The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior. The entrance had marble floors that reflected the light of the glass chandelier above them and gold seemed to be used near excessively, coating the railing for the two staircases and the door frames for the doors at the side of the stairs.

“May I take your coat?”

She nodded, and one of the servants helped her out of her coat, leaving her feeling defenseless in the imposing home.

“Follow me, Lady Shrub is waiting for you,” said a servant.

The two of them walked quietly through various rooms, so many that she began wondering why Lady Shrub would be waiting for her at the other end of the house. Wouldn’t it be better for them to meet in one of these countless rooms?

Unless Lady Shrub wanted her to see the entire house. It was a tactic that hadn’t been uncommon in the city.

As they made their way in what could only be an unused ballroom, Katherine began feeling the stretch of silence on her skin.

And, before she could stop herself, she asked:

“Lady Shrub? Shouldn’t the lady of the house be Lady Smajor?”

The servant quickly glanced at her and in that small movement she could see their worry at the question.

“The Lady prefers using her own name, rather than… her husband’s.”

Katherine nodded as if that made any sense.

It was odd to say the least, just as it was odd that a woman would move to the countryside from the city completely alone, without family or husband. So, Katherine really didn’t have space to judge.

Finally, they seemed to reach their destination and a servant, who stood in front of a simple white door, smiled at her kindly, before opening said door.

She was welcomed by warm and humid air as she stepped inside the conservatory.

She eyed the dirt on the ground and the plants that lined the glass walls that separated from the grounds outside. Perhaps she had made a wrong move by choosing to wear one of her favourite purple dresses.

“You must be Lady Katherine! Please, take a seat!” Said a voice, and Katherine focused her gaze on the small table in the middle of the greenhouse, filled with pastries and sweets. There were two chairs drawn out, and in one of them sat a woman.

She had dark brown hair held in a long braid where strands of hair escaped, some of them falling clumsily in front of her amber eyes that seemed brimming with warmth. She was wearing a light green dress, which- although elegant- seemed in stark contrast to the dirt that clotted the brims at the end of her dress. Her appearance had something so characteristically unladylike, that Katherine could feel her mother’s spirit offended by her precious daughter being in the mere presence of her.

And, yet, Katherine had to ignore the skip her heartbeat made at the sight of the other woman.

She sat primly, observing as Lady Shrub closed her book and placed it on the table. It was hard to decipher the title of the book from the angle she was sat at, but before she could ask, Lady Shrub said:

“I’ve heard you’ve just moved here. How has the countryside been treating you?”

Katherine smiled, as a servant poured her and the other woman tea.

“It’s been quite tiring, especially travelling here alone. But for the most part it’s been quiet.”

The quiet she had been searching for ever since she left her family, far away from any rumours that destroyed her reputation or any duties she didn’t want.

“You’ve come here alone?”

Katherine offered a smile, hoping it would hide her nervousness.

“Yes. My parents decided to send me here for a couple of weeks to… unwind after certain events that have happened recently.”

She wasn’t going to mention that the event that made her parents want to exile her from the social life of the city was them finding her kissing another woman on the streets one night. It had destroyed her reputation and she was even less inclined to tell Lady Shrub and have to face further social exile.

Or that’s what she told herself.

“Well, you must feel quite alone,” Lady Shrub took a sip of her tea, eyeing Katherine’s every movement.

“It’s been only two days, and you meeting me this afternoon has greatly improved my situation.”

Lady Shubble smiled at that, “I’m glad to hear that. I know from personal experience how it feels to be here alone for too long,” As she said that she placed her hand on the book she had been reading before Katherine had arrived.

“I don’t want to sound rude, Lady Shrub-”

“You can call me Shrub.”

It took a couple seconds for Katherine to register her words and, when she did, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing profusely. Hopefully, her makeup would hide most of the redness.

“I- Shrub, I don’t want to sound rude but I’ve been told that you have a husband. Does he not live with you here?”

Please, let him live in the city, please let him live in the city-

Shrub’s smile slipped for just a second, in what Katherine could only guess was disappointment, “No, he does live here. But he prefers spending his time with his- I mean, Lord James. I’m not sure if you’ve already visited his family’s estate-”

Katherine took a sip of her tea, realising she had forgotten to put sugar in it and shook her head.

“-He usually spends the entire year in his family’s home, sometimes his older sister and her husband come to visit for a month or so during the colder months. Him and Scott have been friends for many years now,”

Katherine nodded, letting two sugarcubes drop in her tea, “So, you’re here all alone too,”

Shrub smiled, this time her teeth shone, “Yeah, we’re both here alone. Perhaps-”

Katherine looked up at her.

“Perhaps I could show you around one of these days, I’ve had many years to learn the vastness of this region. It would be nice to have a companion to spend the afternoons together.”

Katherine couldn’t help but grin, something very unladylike that would make her mother mad if she saw her.

“I’d love to.”

Perhaps it had been just a figment of her imagination but Katherine swore she saw Shrub’s cheeks redden, before the other glanced at a small pastry in front of her.

“I have to say I don’t go around with a carriage, it makes both the views and research quite difficult. So, I hope you’re alright with riding a horse,”

Katherine’s eyes brightened, she had never ridden a horse. Her mother had always been scared she would fall and hurt herself.

“I can’t wait.”

Shrub smiled at her and Katherine could feel her heart swell. And then, she remembered what the other had said.

“You said research, what type of research do you interest yourself in?”

That simple question seemed to have opened the floodgates, and Shrub jumped excitedly. “I can show you!”

Then, as if realising what she had just done, she softened and said, “If you want to, of course. But, we’ll have to walk up a couple of floors.”

Katherine nodded, carefully standing up and leaving her half-filled teacup on the table.

“We can return later, I promise,” Shrub said, taking Katherine’s hand in hers.

Katherine felt like she was about to explode at the contact, as Shrub kept holding her hand and showing her around the massive house.

Eventually, they stopped in front of an exceedingly ordinary wooden door.

With her free hand Shrub pushed open the door, stepped in the room, and murmured, as if ashamed, “This is my study.”

Katherine took a step into the study and had to keep herself from shuddering.

The walls were a dark oak, although you could barely tell with all the frames of dead insects and bugs that filled the walls. There were two huge windows where a writing desk brimming with books and paper filled with sketches and scribbled notes, was shoved against.

Her hand slipped from Shrub’s, and she made her way to one of the walls, where in a small frame was kept a butterfly. Its wings were spread open, but it was the colours that took her breath away.

It seemed to glitter between purples and blues, changing tone as she moved her perspective from side to side.

“It’s stunning,” she murmured.

“You can keep it,”

“What?” Stunned, she turned back to Shrub, who stood in the middle of the room staring at a frame next to Katherine, the light filtering from the window making her glow.

“It’s yours if you want it. I- I study insects so I always have more to put on my walls, so I don’t mind you taking the butterfly,” Then Shrub looked up at her, “especially if it can consolidate our friendship.”

Or maybe more, remained unspoken. But Katherine nodded, carefully taking the frame from the wall and holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. And, in that moment, it felt like it.

“We should- we should probably return downstairs, I wouldn’t want… the tea to get cold.”

For people to begin asking questions, was what she wanted to say.

Shrub nodded, a bit of disappointment shining in her eyes as she glanced back down at the ground.

“You’re right.”

The two stepped out of the warm study, letting the door close behind them and, before Katherine knew it, she took Shrub’s hand in hers.