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#How to Grow Snapdragons Seeds
lovelyflowers-world · 4 months
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Lemon Girl
So I thought about this when listening to Lemon boy by cavetown I think it's pretty good I don't know though
Percy Jackson x Reader
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
There once was a bitter sweet man and they called him lemon boy 
It was never easy being the daughter of Nyx people never seemed to want to be near me because my mother was one of the most feared goddesses she was even feared by Zeus himself.
 So I kept to myself in the garden I planted away from everyone in my own bitterness. Until he came around he was like a dam weed he just wouldn't go away no matter how much I pushed him to go away. 
"I'm Percy. Percy Jackson son of Poseidon"
"(Y/N) daughter of Nyx please go away you're stepping on my carrots" 
He was growing in my garden and I pulled him out by his hair like a weed and like weeds do he only came and grew back again 
It seemed no matter how long or hard I pushed and pushed he was always there waving to me or by my side trying to speak to me 
"What are those?" 
"They're snapdragons" 
"And what are those" 
"Fly traps" 
So I figured this time I might as well let him be 
After awhile I got used to him being around so much it seemed like he just became a part of my routine like clockwork he was there every day after his practices so I thought 'might as well put him to work' 
"Wait so how do I do this?" 
I rolled my eyes "If they've fully blossomed cut them and take out the thorns and put them in the bucket sound simple?"
"okay got it!" 
He never seemed to complain always happy to be there 
Lemon boy and me started to get along together I helped him plant his seeds and we mowed the lawn in bad weather
"So you're just going to dig a small holes about four inches deep and plant your seeds and if we take care of it good enough you'll have a watermelon patch" I looked over to him and smiled 
He smiled back and nodded and got to work. He never seemed to care about all the dirt and bugs he'd had to encounter 
But soon his bittersweet started to rub off on me 
I looked over and saw Clarisse picking on Percy I ran over 
"HEY!" They looked over to me Clarisse was scared as shit "Why don't you go shove your spear up your ass or something Clarisse!" I grabbed Percy and pushed him away as we walked off 
"Thanks" I looked to him and rolled my eyes 
"Yeah well I wasn't doing it for you I was doing it because she almost pushed you into my lilies" I blushed and ran off 
"GET TO WORK SEAWEED BRAIN!" 
I found out that my friends are more of the savory type and they weren't too keen on compromising with a nice lemon pie
"why are you hanging out with her?!" 
I looked over and saw Percy talking to Annabeth they looked to me and I looked away 
"She's nice I actually really like hanging out with her" 
"She's bad news Percy her mom is the goddess of night of darkness!" 
I sighed and walked further away I knew this day would come he'd leave soon enough 
"Hey I picked the oranges you asked for" 
I looked over and he was smiling at me...maybe he wasn't going to leave 
But what if I run out of fertilizer?
"Idiot! Be careful!" 
I grabbed onto Percy's hand pressing a towel against it he cut himself on a knife cutting off a piece of orange for himself 
"Aw does the big bad bitter (Y/n) care about me?" 
I rolled my eyes and applied more pressure than necessary on his wound and walked away 
"As if I'd care about you seaweed brain" 
What if the clouds run out of rain?
"You're going on a quest?" 
"Yeah it shouldn't take long we're just going to track down a demigod who needs help" 
I looked at him I was concerned what if Percy didn't come back I'd be all alone again I'd loose the only friend I've had in my fifteen years of being here 
"Hey don't worry I'll be okay I have Annabeth and Grover to help me" 
He smiled and I nodded he hugged me I was so surprised 
"take care of my watermelon patch" 
I rolled my eyes and pat his back and sighed 
"You better come back or else I'll rip your your watermelon patch and plant a lemon tree" 
He laughed oh gods please let him come back home safely 
What if Lemon boy won't grow no longer?
It's been a month and Percy hasn't come back I've been more worried than I ever have been as I continued to cut the roses I heard footsteps 
"(Y/N) here Chiron asked me to deliver this to you" 
I turned around and saw a child of Hermes hand me a letter sealed with a brown envelope I smiled up at them they looked stunned 
"Thank you" 
I got up and walked away 
"Did she just tell you thank you?!" 
"Oh my gods" 
"Percy definitely changed her" 
I rolled my eyes and walked into my cabin and looked at the letter reading the name 
"Percy" 
What if beaches dry of sugar cane?
Run. 
That was the only thing on my mind as I ran in the rain my clothing soaked to the max I could care less about that I had only one thing on my mind 
"PERCY!" 
I ran toward the med cabin 
The whales start to beach themselves
People were trying to push me back keeping me from going inside 
"STOP! STOP I HAVE TO SEE HIM!" 
I pushed them all back and ran into Chiron we just stood silent in front of each other it was like I was communicating with him 'please I have to see him' 
He moved aside 
Tortoise shells tear away from their spines
I walked up to his bed slowly Grover and Annabeth by his sides looked to me 
"We're sorry (Y/n) we tried to stop him but he was trying to protect the new demigod and..and he got hurt" 
It happens all the time, it happens all the time
I don't even know who was talking to me I was too busy staring at Percy his body battered and bruised a large gash on his stomach that was bandaged 
They up to me patting me on the shoulder and walked away to leave me alone with him I walked up to his side and fell to my knees hugging his waist crying into it 
"Percy..Percy you stupid idiot you said you'd be safe"
Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever
I woke up to the sound of Percy taking a deep breath I moved away from him and he looked at me confused 
"(Y/N)?" 
I wasted no time in hugging him I was crying even harder than last night 
"Percy! Percy you idiot I told you to be safe! What the hell!?" 
He chuckled and hugged me back tightly he moved me back a bit to look me in the eyes 
"I thought you didn't care about me?" 
I smiled and shook my head 
Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever
Me and Percy were walking through camp flowers in hand handing them out to people my roses grew beautifully this season all thanks to Percy 
"Imagine that Percy Jackson and (Y/n) (L/n)?" 
"She seems a lot less bitter with him around" 
"I like it" 
I smiled and walked closer to Percy bumping my shoulder with his 
"where to next seaweed brain?" 
Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever
Me and Percy were running around past curfew laughing hand in hand  
"Percy where are we going?!" 
"You'll see" 
He looked back at me for a moment before looking forward again running faster I laughed louder 
"Percy hold on!" 
Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever
We stopped at my garden under my lemon tree there was a nice picnic set out 
"Percy? is this-" 
"For us? Yes yes it is" 
He dragged me to the blanket and sat me down handing me a plate 
"Lemon pie?" 
"I know it's your favorite" 
I blushed and looked away embarrassed I looked up to sky the stars and moon looked beautiful 
"They're not as beautiful as you" 
I probably looked like a cherry now jeez this boy is going to kill me 
It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him
Me and Percy were working in the garden when a few other people came around 
"Hey can we help you (Y/n)?" 
"Yeah I want to help too!" 
"Can you teach me how to care for my plants they're starting to die" 
I was getting overwhelmed by all the talk happening that's when Percy stepped in 
"Hey back off my girlfriend will you one at a time" 
'Girlfriend!?' 
Cause we're the bitterest boys in town
Me and Percy were sitting by the lake watching the sunset He leaned his head on my shoulder 
"So about what happened earlier- I didn't mean to call you my girlfriend- I mean not that I would mind for you to be my girlfriend I would love that- but of course you have a choic-" 
Cause we're the bitterest boys in town
I kissed him and once I pulled away I looked at him and smiled 
"I would love nothing more than to be your girlfriend Percy" 
I leaned my head on his shoulder as I looked back to the sunset I heard him sigh in relief 
"cool" 
He leaned his head on top of mine 
Yeah I definitely got used to him and I don't regret it 
And I got myself a citrus friend
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
Go check out my fanfiction Riptide on wattpad link in my page <3
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storiesbyrhi · 26 days
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: To build a home. 2888 words.
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1986
When the temperature dropped and a near-constant fog hung low over Hawkins, you were glad, being more of a winter witch than summer. You stood on the peak of a hillside and looked over the vast plains surrounding the town. The mist made everything look ghostly and romantic.
The land had been returned to the descendants of the original Native American peoples who once lived there, but with no immediate plans to reoccupy the space, your new coven had been granted permission to make home on the condition you would oversee its protection.
For the moment, you were alone on the hill. Eddie was hiding from solar rays in the trailer, listening to the radio and writing in a journal he had recently started.
There was a lot to do before your sisters arrived and you wanted it all done by then. You wanted everything to be perfect. The first dwelling of a new coven would set the tone for centuries to come. It was time to build.
The advantages of being magically blessed were many, but you’d always thought enchanted seeds had to be right up there in the top ten. You’d had seven seeds soaking in seven jars over the past seven days.
You’d lined them up and filled them to halfway with moon water. In went a seed each, apple slices, and petals. In Ash’s jar went dahlia petals, while Hailey’s had peonies. Purple mums for Meg. Foxglove for Ev. Mel’s had snapdragons and lucky last, Kelsey’s was filled with delphinium.
Now, you’d fished each seed out and planted it where their cabins, cottages, and homes were to be.
“I plant these seeds,
Where homes will grow,
By moonlight
And good intentions.
In this time,
And in this place,
A coven new
Offers protection.”
You laid on the grass in the shade of an old sycamore tree. Closing your eyes, you let yourself melt into the natural world. Bones became tree roots. Blood swapped for mud. Total harmony. Infinite peace.
The air grew cooler and the shade expanded outwards. Darkness enveloped you and your body slowed as if you were in your final resting place. That’s how he found you; not asleep but not awake.
Eddie surveyed your work. The seeds had already sprouted, grew, and bloomed. Magical in their speed. He picked one of the snapdragon flowers and squeezed the base, like you’d shown him. It opened the flower’s mouth, a tiny floral puppet. Eddie smiled to himself.
You felt their heartbeats before you saw Eddie. Sitting up, you watched the deer and her fawn meander in from the forest. She’d looked at you, poised in question. What is he? Is he safe? Given a witch’s blessing, she let her baby approach Eddie.
He too had heard their heartbeats. Eddie had remained where he was, mindful not to scare them. When the fawn appeared at his feet, he slowly opened his hand to the animal and let it eat the snapdragon from his palm.
“You would know if it was poison, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. The fawn looked up at him, long eyelashes and soft whiskers.
Eddie turned to find you standing close behind him. You were getting very good at sneaking up on him.
“Hi,” he greeted.
“Making friends?”
Eddie nodded.
“Feeding my flowers to them?”
There was an overwhelming feeling that the moment was beautifully preordained – and really, knowing fate, it probably was.
Eddie turned back to the flowers. “I thought you said they would grow into homes?”
“They will. They just need some time alone with the moon… Shall we?” You held your hand out to Eddie.
While you appreciated Walmart’s late night hours, their range of Halloween costumes was less than ideal. You stared at the row of wigs for a while before drifting away in search of decorations. October was a good time to find homewares you’d use all year round.
You were shaking a snow globe filled with little black bats when Eddie appeared in front of you, holding up a vampire costume. “It comes with plastic teeth,” he pointed out. “And a cape,”
You snorted. “Is that your pick? Because generic vampire would be very meta of you.”
He smiled but shook his head. “I don’t think this would put the humans at ease,”
“Probably not. So… something more friendly?”
“Yes. More… normal,” he said in a way that made ‘normal’ sound taboo. Eddie’s gaze wandered from you over to the back corner of the store. He handed you the vampire costume then walked away without further explanation.
You frowned, watching him go. Looking down at the costume in your hands, an idea sprung to mind. The red cape. You returned to the wigs.
A little later, Eddie was waiting for you when you came out of the fitting room with a white dress. You glanced at the jeans and long-sleeved blue polo top he was holding.
“I need a cat,” he told you seriously. “The children in the toy aisle are…”
“You’re afraid of them?”
“No. I’m afraid I’ll eat them. Come. Restrain me if you must,” he announced dramatically, loudly. The Walmart employee at the fitting room door gave you a concerned look as Eddie grabbed your hand and dragged you away.
Both your endeavours were successful; Eddie found the necessary prop in the plush toy bin, and you raided the craft section. With a few other odds and ends in the basket, you were ready to head home, arriving at Forest Hills just before midnight.
Eddie carried the shopping inside, leaving you to unpack and get started on your project while he brewed tea for you. He had been practicing with flavour combinations and brewing times, constantly requesting feedback since he himself could not drink the tea without immediately throwing it back up. The best he could do was let it linger on his tongue and capture the taste in the few seconds before his dead mouth killed it.
“You should sleep soon,” he insisted, albeit softly.
You took the mug of tea he held out and smiled at him. “I will. I just want to organise this stuff,”
“Why are you making it? Could you not cast some sort of illusion spell? Or magically will all the pieces into the shapes you want?”
“I could. But where’s the Halloween spirit in that?”
Eddie nodded and began to go through his costume pieces. “Could you possibly spare a spell for a pair of my boots? They need to be brown, I believe,”
“Didn’t want to just buy some brown boots?”
His frown was bordering on pout. “I’d never wear them again.”
You laughed.  Eddie had been developing his own sense of style. If style was beat-up combat boots and a ratty denim jacket he probably stole from someone in the city. Consistently though, he wore a lot of black.
“I’ll work on it,” you agreed with a nod.
An hour later, when you kept pausing mid-sentence to yawn, Eddie whisked you off to bed, tucking you in and wishing you sweet dreams.
“You going to sleep too?” you asked, meaning ‘do you need the bat spell?’
“No, my love. I’m hungry,”
“Walmart kids wet your appetite?”
He chuckled, always amused when you made dark jokes. He kissed your forehead and watched you fall asleep, then left Hawkins in search of violence.
The next day, Eddie waited for the last of the light to leave the porch before he stirred. He’d spent hours curled up in one of the many nests you’d built for him around the trailer. The nest on the porch was as soft as his fur and perfectly positioned so he could sleep in the sun all day.
When night fell, cool and calm, he flew inside and found you in the bath. You said the words with your eyes closed, letting a human-shaped Eddie settle on the tiles.
“You’ve been gone for hours,”
“I was just outside. These may be the last fine days we see this year,”
“My baby sunshine bat,” you cooed with a smile, waking yourself up to look at him.
You had woken that morning to Eddie curled around you, satiated and happy. He asked to be battified, then disappeared outside. You’d spent the day working on your costume.
Eddie rested his chin on the edge of the bath, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body. “I miss you when I’m not near you,” he said suddenly.
“I thought you were just outside,”
“I was. Even then. Even sleeping. It’s too far.”
You held a hand up for him to take. Tangled fingers. A warm pulse against cold skin.
“Maybe we should stitch our bodies together,” you whispered.
Eddie’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “I could just bite down and never let you go,”
“I could cut you up into itty bitty pieces and consume you entirely,”
“You’re starting something you cannot finish,” Eddie warned, his eyes growing dark. He untangled one of your fingers and held it between his teeth.
“I’d let you eat me whole.”
Eddie dropped your hand abruptly, pulled you from the lukewarm bathwater, and had you wrapped around him like a koala before you even registered movement.
“I will reach my hand into my throat and tear down until I find what is left of my unbeating heart. I will serve it to you and you will feast and we will become one.” His voice was earnest and emphatic.
Teeth clenched, you smashed your forehead to his and pulled hard on his hair. Maybe you said what you needed him to do out loud, maybe he read your mind. Either way, you were facedown on a mattress within a second, Eddie’s teeth and tongue scraping and licking up the backs of your legs.
“I…” he started.
“Want…”
Words separated by kisses.
“To…”
By bites.
“Eat…”
Like a recited spell.
“All…”
Well timed magic.
“The…”
He was at your hips.
“Love…”
Pushing beneath you.
“Out of you.”
Little witch…
Little witch…
His voice was in your head.
In your dreams.
Then, real.
“Little witch, my love? You wanted to check on your flower houses before the night is through,” Eddie said. He was right. That had been the plan. But the sun had set, he’d taken you to bed, and you’d lost hours with him. When did you fall asleep?
Slowly, you crawled from bed and checked the time. Midnight had only just left you. Heavy, sluggish movements. Weighed down by an unscheduled nap. You flopped back onto the bed.
“Do you need help?” Eddie asked as he came to stand in front of you.
Pouting, you nodded.
You watched him collect fresh clothes, ruminating over what he wanted to see you in. Eddie pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed, hooking underwear on and sliding them up. Still foggy with sleep, you felt like you were still rolling through a dreamscape. Eddie worked slowly. Sensually. With tenderness. It almost brought you to tears.
With your shoes laced up, there was no reason left to delay. You twinkled your fingers at Eddie, asking to be lifted off the bed. He acquiesced, leading you out of the bedroom and through the trailer.
On the car ride to the new coven, with your Moody Midnight mix tape playing loud, you watched Eddie out of the corner of your eye. He wound down the window and glided his hand through the fall wind.
As the flowerbeds came into view, Eddie’s mouth dropped open and an expression of pure delight lit up his face. He was out of the car before you cut the engine.
The seedlings had gone. In their places, beautiful buildings set apart from each other with enough space to grow gardens and vegetable patches, yet close enough to wave through windows.
Kelsey’s cottage was the first on the street, a warm welcome with shutters the shade of delphinium blue. It seemed small, unassuming, but you knew as soon as she moved in, she would charm it so it grew bigger and bigger on the inside, never changing on the outside. Eventually, as the coven embraced new members, Kelsey would take on housemates, her little cabin becoming the heart of the sisterhood.
Across from the cottage were Ash and Hailey’s cute tiny homes, their dahlia and peonies growing strong out front already. Down the way sat Ev’s Victorian style house. It was grand and gothic, and undoubtedly filled with secret nooks and spaces that Ev would hide all sorts of weird things in. Both Meg and Mel had dwellings on the far side of the field. Meg’s thatched roof a bright purple, and Mel’s garden already sprouting with plants she could feed her turtle.
“This is… It feels…” Eddie didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, he couldn’t believe this type of magic was allowed. It seemed too immense, too obvious.
“I know,” you told him. “We don’t always build like this. But I want them to feel at home, you know? I want this all to feel… right.”
Eddie nodded, finally stopping his awestruck pacing, and focussing on you. “They will love it,” he assured you. “I love it… It’s…” Still, not a single adjective would form. He looked over the buildings again. “Wait… There is not… You have not grown a home for yourself?”
“For us,” you corrected.
“For us… Please don’t tell me you intend on dragging that trailer across town?” Eddie joked. Half joked. There was clear apprehension in his tone. A little fear in his eyes.
You laughed. “No. I don’t intend on doing that… It’s just, you know, we haven’t talked about what kind of home we want.”
He couldn’t maintain eye contact, turned back to the houses, watching them as if they were going to continue to grow. They wouldn’t, of course. Not with an audience.
You let Eddie ponder while you walked the perimeter of the field. The land the coven would care for extended far beyond the little neighbourhood you’d grown from petals, but the air was already crackling with magic. Out in the forest over the hill, a family of red foxes were jumping and playing. Bats swooped through the sky and fireflies carved patterns through the dark.
Eddie sat on the doorstep of Ev’s Victorian. He listened to your heartbeat. How, when other living things came close to you, their breathing synced to yours. Leaves twisted in your direction like you were the sun. The center of everything. Definitely his.
You were almost out of his eyeline, crouched down scratching the belly of a fox cub, when you went still. For a moment Eddie thought you’d sensed or seen danger, but quickly you were up and turned to him. “You do want a home, right?”
In an instant, he was in front of you, the breadth of the field nothing to him. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because. Like I said. We’ve never talked about it.”
Eddie’s brows pulled together and his expression so sharp it could have been mistaken as anger, rather than the abject confusion it was. “Everything I have ever said has been about you. Loving you. Getting this far,”
“Yes. Yeah. But logistically… Vampires are nomadic. And all the time taken from you. You don’t want to see how the world has changed?”
The foxes had gone, unnerved by the thing that wasn’t human or witch. The breeze had settled, the trees providing a windbreak. Eddie saw through your line of questioning, tracing it back to the niggle of anxious thought settling in your brain. His face softened, then the beginning of his trademark smirk.
Eddie threw himself onto his knees at your feet, twisting his hands in the layers of your long, black skirt. “I am bound to you. Where you are, is where I am.”
You couldn’t help but grin. His dramatics wouldn’t distract you though. Dropping to your knees you looked at him seriously. He laughed.
“Eddie. You have been trapped in Hawkins for a hundred years. I’m not going to be the next witch to keep you here,”
“You want to know what I desire, in the deep, dark, catacombs of my soul?”
It was rhetorical, but you nodded.
“What do you picture me having done between 1586 and… well, you? 250 years of stillness? No, my love. I have seen the world. I know what is out there. It may have changed, but it will change again and again. I don’t want the world. I want you. I want to know you when you’re happy. I want to see you build this coven. Grow plants. Heal human ailment and cast witch magic…” Eddie tipped his head to the side a little, cocky as ever. “Logistically we should consider blackout blinds and room for books, not international travel.”
You wore that glazed-over look, drunk on the articulation of Eddie’s love. “You want a library?” you asked, voice coming out in a dumb whisper. Eddie nodded. “Me too. Maybe two… One for fiction and one for non-fiction,”
“Maybe three. Fiction. Non-fiction. Then, one for grimoires and other craft books.”
The foxes watched on from burrow doors. They still didn’t know what he was, but as long as he was with you, they’d leave him be.
End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for, well, the cannibalism.
There is a short playlist linked in this, little witch's Moody Midnight mix tape. I hope you like it.
There are a lot of people on the tag list that I have no idea if they read this story anymore. Feedback and love are deeply appreciated. xo Rhi
P.S. I hope you love your witchy homes @vintagehellfire @courtingchaos @pastel-pillows @ghost-proofbaby @kookygranger @toomanyacorns
Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner
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rederiswrites · 13 days
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Got so much work done in the front garden today--wish I'd taken pictures but I always wait until "everything's perfect" hahaaa right. Mostly, I'm pulling out carts full of chickweed and hairy bittercress and purple deadnettle (all great plants, just not what I'm growing there), and as I go, I put things into the gaps I create. Today I planted a couple of rockfoil (commercial photo):
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three yellow and orange dahlias, like so:
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a couple of daylilies I got on sale last year and only finally am getting in, and some adorable violas. In previous days, I've gotten in more pansies and violas, a new rosemary, purple and bicolor sage, parsley, more daylilies, and salvia.
And everywhere I finished weeding and planting and thus will be leaving alone for at least a month, I chaotically surface-sewed four different varieties of poppy, some snapdragons, and a pack of chamomile.
That's also how I'm gonna deal with cilantro this year, and we'll see how that goes. I got quite a number of volunteer cilantro last year from where it inevitably went to seed. So this year I'm just gonna periodically throw some seed at the dirt, like, literally.
It's tremendously gratifying to see things coming back from last year's efforts. Several varieties of bee balm, the ever-spreading lemon balm, echinacea and black eyed susans, anise hyssop, comfrey, yet more daylily, asiatic lily, irises including my precious black varieties from my friend who is gone, coreopsis and marguerite for dyes, chives, thyme, winter savory, valerian, bronze fennel, tons of yarrow...
And then the rain came across the mountains and watered it all in for me.
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pinkanonwrites · 8 days
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I've had this Knightformers idea stewing in my head for a good few hours, and now I inflict it. So, imagine if someone (probably Beachcomber, let's be perfectly honest here) found an injured fairy, with wings damaged enough that they possibly won't be able to fly for the rest of their life. Because of this, the fairy ends up being adopted by one of the Lords since they can no longer thrive in their previous environment and is given a little space where they can rest.
YESSSSSSSSSS This would be the perfect scenario for Beachcomber! He finds an injured flower fairy in one of the forests outside the Iacon palace and ends up taking it back home. It ends up living like a little borrower in his house, scampering around and helping him with small tasks.
"Now, whaddaya think will grow good in the window box? Petunias? Snapdragon?" He's got one of his tomes open on the table, drawings of flowering plants and leaves filling the pages. The little fairy taps their foot, a hand resting on their chin, before scampering over to the corner of the page and tugging it upwards. They can't fly properly, not anymore, but their wings beat with a passion as they use their entire body weight to turn the page and frantically point at one of the drawings.
"Marigolds? Those'll be awfully pretty."
The fairy gives him a delighted nod in response.
"How do you feel about some basil? Rosemary?"
More excited nodding ensues as the fairy begins to hop up and down on the open book, jingling with delight.
"Well, alright then! We can start looking for seeds at the market tomorrow."
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scyllas-revenge · 1 year
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The Floor Is Molasses
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The War of the Ring is over. Frodo has sailed to the Undying Lands, Sam is comfortably settled into Bag End with Rosie and his children—and Boromir, Steward of Gondor and Captain of the White Tower, is taking a much-needed vacation in the Shire.
And while Boromir may have developed a surprising knack for gardening, looking after Sam’s children is proving to be much harder than he’d planned.
Rating: G
Words: 2644
Read on AO3!
“Look at those lovely rows! You’ve improved a great deal, Mister Boromir, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.” Sam removed his fraying straw hat to fan his face in the late summer sun.
“Have I indeed?” Boromir got to his feet to observe their work, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Rows of freshly tilled soil marched down the sprawling garden of Bag End, labeled with Sam’s untidy but determined hand: Peas, Turnips, Leeks, Carrots, Beets, on and on—Boromir might have called it excessive, if he hadn’t known firsthand just how much hobbits were capable of eating.  
“’Course you’ve improved,” Sam replied stoutly, now brushing the dirt from his trousers. “After your horrible start—though maybe that’s best forgotten, if you follow me.”
Boromir recalled his first day in Bag End with a wince. After being asked by Rosie to prune the rosebushes she and Sam couldn’t quite reach, he’d marched confidently into the garden and promptly trodden on their newly planted snapdragons, twisting Rosie’s face into a frightening scowl and nearly bringing little Elanor to tears. “Once again, Sam, I must apologize for that.”
“Oh, no harm done.” Sam waved his words away with a reassuring hand.
Boromir's eyes lowered. Always Sam was too quick to forgive him—quicker by far than Boromir deserved—no matter how trifling or serious the offense.
“You replaced the snapdragons right quick, at least," Sam went on, grinning, jogging Boromir from his memories. "Anyways, it’s not your fault. ‘Them Big Folk are clumsy through and through,’ I told my Rosie, you know, ‘and likely it’s on account of those big clunking boots they wear, they can’t help but step on everything in their way.’”
Boromir laughed, and the sound nearly startled him. He was happy, almost unbearably happy, here in this little garden in the Shire, dirt clumped under his fingernails and a sunburn blooming on the back of his neck. Who would have guessed that Boromir, Steward of Gondor and Captain of the White Tower, would develop such a love of gardening?
True, he wouldn't remain in the Shire long enough to see the seeds sprout or to taste the fruits of his hard work, but he minded little. He’d needed something to occupy himself here—he’d never taken a vacation in his life and wasn’t used to being idle—but he’d taken to gardening with greater joy than he could have imagined. It was the act of planting, the steadfast care the seeds needed to grow, the amount of water and depth of soil and a thousand other protections against the elements…
And perhaps most importantly, Boromir’s floppy gardening hat and the lumpy, man-sized shearing gloves Rosie had fashioned for him were a good deal more comfortable than his captain’s armor, and were far less likely to be drenched in blood.
“Now then,” Sam said, scratching his chin. “We’re near done for the day, I should think. If you wouldn't mind, go inside and fetch my pruning shears. We’ll see to the rose bushes and then meet Rosie at the Green Dragon for a mug of ale, if you like.”
With a nod, Boromir went back to the green hobbit-door, pausing to scrape the mud off his boots. He ducked low to avoid the door frame and made his way down the hall.
A chorus of laughter met his ears as he made his awkward, crouching way down the long hallway: Merry and Pippin were watching the two hobbit-children while Rosie was finishing her shift at the pub, Boromir knew, but from the sound of it, his friends weren’t trying very hard to keep their charges in line.
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Now, did Sam keep his pruning shears in the kitchen? Or were they perhaps—
Something shoved at his calf. “Move!”
“Eh?” Boromir jolted upright and thwacked his head against the rafters. “Valar blast it all—” Eyes watering, he squinted down to see a chubby little figure tugging furiously at his leg.
“Move!” Elanor’s round cheeks were bright red, her wild blonde curls swinging as she punched at his calf. For a child who could be no more than five, her voice held as much authority as a king’s. “Move-move-move, get off the floor!”
“What? Why’s that, lass?”
“Because!” she cried, and it was only then that Boromir noticed that she was standing on a sofa cushion—that she’d, in fact, hopped her way to him on a long trail of cushions, several of which had split open in protest and were now bleeding goose feathers into the air. “Because the floor is molasses! Now move!”
“Ah.” A grin bloomed on his face. “Molasses, is it?”
“Yes, now hurry up, Boromir,” came Pippin’s cry from the living room. “It’s safer in here!”
“Very well,” he said gravely, distantly recalling similar games from Faramir’s childhood—though their antics had involved rather less homey threats than molasses, if memory served. In the Citadel, the marble tiles had most often turned to lava or quicksand, and out of doors the tall grasses had become thickets of enemy spears, which he and Faramir had avoided only by dangling from tree branches and leaping into ponds.
But that mattered little. He could work with molasses.
Scooping up a giggling Elanor in his arms, Boromir trudged toward the living room, groaning and dragging his boots against the floor so exaggeratedly that the hobbit-lass punched his shoulder. “Hurry up!”  
“Nearly—there,” Boromir gasped, falling dramatically to his knees in the living room doorway, depositing Elanor safely onto another cushion as he did so.
“Get up, you great lump!” she bellowed, reaching forward to yank on his hair. “You’ll be stuck forever!”
“It’s true,” Pippin added mildly. “We’ve lost many a good hobbit that way, you know.”
 Boromir looked up to reply, then snorted. Pippin was standing on the dining room table, his curly hair in the rafters.
“Oy!” Merry called cheerily. He lay flat on his stomach on top of the grandfather clock in the hall, his limbs hanging limply on all sides like a collapsed scarecrow. “How’s the gardening coming along?”
“’ullo, mister Bormeer,” came a call from little Frodo, who stood in a large plant pot, his chubby toddler hands clutching the rim to balance himself. Dirt and leaves were scattered about on the floor, the only visible remnants of the plant pot’s former inhabitant. “You gotta get off the floor, mister, or you’re gonna get stucked,” the hobbit-lad informed him seriously. “Right, Ellie?”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” his big sister cried, hand on her hips again. “Mister Pippin, throw him a rope or something. I can’t get him up on my own, he’s too big and fat.”
Boromir spluttered. “Too big and—”
“Don’t worry, Boromir, I’ll save you.” Deftly, Pippin flung a wooden bowl of fruit in the direction of the coat stand near the wall, which toppled toward him with a clatter loud enough to make Boromir wince. Catching hold of it, Pippin directed its wooden feet in Boromir’s direction. “Go on, use this—pull yourself up to safety!”
 “And what will Sam say when he sees that you’ve all done your best to destroy Bag End and everything in it?”
“It’s already destroyed,” little Frodo crowed from the plant pot. “It’s covered in molasses!”
Boromir considered this. “A fair point,” he conceded, and with a great show of struggling and straining, he pulled himself to safety. He was too big to sit comfortably in most of the chairs in Bag End, so he settled on the dinner table with his feet resting on the nearest chair. “There,” he said, grinning at the hobbits. “Am I quite safe now, do you think?”
“No!” Elanor cried. “Now the table’s sinking into the molasses, right Mister Merry?”
"You know, I think you're right." Merry swung his legs idly from on top of the grandfather clock. “Excellent observation, Ellie my dear.”
“What am I to do then, Captain Elanor?” Boromir turned back to her. “I await your orders.”
“Get to the sofa—quick!”
Boromir nodded determinedly, but as he stepped back onto the floor, little Frodo gave a shriek. “Don’t touch the floor, Mister!”
He hesitated. “How am I to cross the room, then?”
Elanor rolled her eyes. “Jump across on the pillows, of course!” To demonstrate, she leap-frogged across the room on the strewn sofa cushions before reaching the safety of the rocking chair in the corner. The chair swayed precariously under her momentum, but stayed upright. With a shout of triumph, she turned back to Boromir and jabbed an imperious finger at him. “Now you!”
“Straightaway, Captain,” he replied with a salute, making Elanor giggle.
He hesitated for a moment, but there was nothing else for it. Boromir launched himself from the too-small chair and landed squarely on the nearest sofa cushion, which promptly exploded in a cloud of goose feathers.
“You great lump!” Elanor cried.
“Wooo!” little Frodo shrieked from the plant pot.
“Nicely done, Boromir,” Merry said dryly.
“Oh, nicely done, was it?”
Boromir winced as Sam’s voice cut through the cloud of feathers.
“What is going on here?” Sam’s stout hands were on his hips, and he glared from Boromir to Pippin to Merry, who in the ensuing moment of frightened silence toppled headlong off the grandfather clock and landed in a heap on the floor.
“Sorry, Sam,” Merry muttered.
Sam turned to pluck little Frodo out of the plant pot and rolled his eyes. “I’d expected such things from these two,” he said, turning his curly head to scowl at Merry and Pippin. “But you, Mister Boromir—now, I thought you were more serious than all this. And my Rosie’s cushions, and the dinner table, and all!”
“But Papa—” Elanor tugged on Sam’s sleeve anxiously. “It’s my fault, I made him do it!”
Sam crouched down low, setting Frodo down beside her and brushing dirt and leaves off his clothes. “And why’d you make him do it, Ellie?” he asked, more gently.
She looked around with a quivering lip, clearly mourning the loss of her game. “Because—” Her face screwed up, and then she was sobbing. “Because the floor was molasses!”
Patting her hair, Sam nodded thoughtfully.
“We really are sorry,” Pippin said earnestly, staring at the feather-spotted ground. “We’ll help you clean up, we promise.”
“Oh, you’ll help me, will you?” Sam folded his arms imperiously, and Pippin shrank back with an audible gulp. “You’ll clean this mess up yourselves, and right quick! But first—”
He bent down to Elanor, who was still weeping bitterly into her hands.
“The floor was molasses, was it?”
She nodded shakily.
“It was,” she bawled, wiping at her nose. “I’m sorry—”
“There, there, Ellie. It seems to me the only thing to do now is…” He leaned closer and whispered something in Elanor’s ear.
She stopped crying at once. “Really?”
“That’s right.”
“And Mister Boromir too?”
“Of course.” Sam rocked back on his heels, smiling sagely. “Go on, then. And take little Frodo with you.”
With a shrieking giggle, Elanor grabbed her brother’s pudgy hand and raced out the door into the yard.
“What's that you're planning, Sam?” Boromir asked. He didn’t like the gleam in the hobbit’s eyes.
“Planning?" Sam put his hands on his hips. "Now, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean—I’ve never been one for plans. So then, pick up the chairs and cushions, you lot, and sweep up these feathers.”
Heads bowed in contrition, they set about their tasks.
Boromir struggled to maneuver the broom properly, his tongue between his teeth, while Merry and Pippin began to straighten up the furniture. But only a few minutes had passed before Sam tugged the broom out of Boromir's hands. "What's that you're doing, Mister Boromir?"
"What do you mean? I'm sweeping."
"Scraping up the floor is what you're doing," he cried. "Haven't you never used a broom before?"
Boromir rubbed the back of his neck and coughed.
Sam sighed. "Well, enough of that for now, in any case. Why don't the three of you go outside and pick some flowers for Rosie, to make this place look a bit brighter?”
They weren't anywhere near done cleaning up the mess they'd made, but they looked at one another and shrugged. “It beats moving furniture!" Merry exclaimed, and the three of them made their way to the door.
But no sooner had Boromir stepped onto the front porch than he was struck with a cascade of water—accompanied by a shriek of laughter.
“What the—” Boromir spluttered, wiping at his face and his drenched tunic. Beside him, Merry and Pippin were coughing and spluttering too, though their attacker hadn’t managed to splash much more than their hairy feet.
“We got you!” Elanor cried, poking her head up from behind the door, where she and little Frodo had been lying in wait. They each held empty watering cans in their chubby fists, and little Frodo was giggling so hard that no sound was coming out.
Merry bent and ruffled the boy's hair, laughing. “I suppose we deserved that, didn’t we?”
"Yes!" Frodo giggled, punching the air in victory. "You derserved it!"
"That was a mighty strike, Captain Elanor," Boromir said, wiping at his face and shirt before picking up the laughing hobbit-lass and setting her on his shoulder. "You have a strong arm indeed."
"I know!" She beamed, swinging her feet back and forth proudly.
"Papa!" Little Frodo yelled. "Papa, we did it!"
Sam's laughing face appeared in the doorway. "Well done, Ellie, Frodo! Think that got the molasses off of them, or do they need another bath?" 
"No, no," Pippin said hurriedly, hopping on one foot as he squeezed the water out of one of his trouser legs. "We've learned our lesson." 
Merry sighed. "Well, we'd best keep cleaning up those feathers, I suppose." 
"Oy, dry yourselves off first! I'll not have you tracking water and muck all over my floors," Sam called. Merry and Pippin froze guiltily, then scurried off to obey. "And as for you, Mister Boromir—” Sam ducked back inside and returned with his pruning shears. "Let's finish up our gardening, eh?" 
"Can I help too?" Elanor cried from Boromir's shoulder. She tugged at his hair impatiently, making his eyes water.
"Me too, me too!" Little Frodo hopped up and down, tugging at the loose fabric of Boromir's trousers. At Sam's nod of approval, Boromir grinned, scooped up the hobbit-lad, and set him on his other shoulder, and together they made their way to the garden. 
"Papa, look how tall I am!" Little Frodo crowed, punching the air by Boromir's head. 
Elanor scowled over Boromir's head. "You're not as tall as me!" 
"Am too!" Frodo bellowed, and soon they were bickering heatedly. Sighing, Boromir set them both down, where they took off like firecrackers, chasing each other around in the grass and shrieking.
"I really am sorry, Sam," Boromir muttered as he took up the pruning shears. "You and your family have been kind enough to host me here, and I made a mess of things." 
"Everyone makes a mess of things sometimes, if you follow me," Sam said. "And anyway, the worst of the mess was made by Merry and Pippin."
"Even so, I should not have forgotten myself thus." Boromir frowned, reaching up to clip away the branches out of hobbit-reach. "It's been many years since I've felt so at ease, and I fear I've let it go to my head." 
"You should let it go to your head more often," Sam said, collecting the fallen branches in his arms as Elanor and Frodo laughed and wrestled in the garden nearby. "Only next time leave our poor furniture out of it, no matter how much molasses is flooding Bag End." 
Boromir shook Sam's hand, unable to stop himself from laughing. "It's a deal."
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thescoottftoot · 7 months
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BONUS! The Gardener (not a real episode duh, I wrote this!!)
[Madam Hotel]
"Hm, oh how the years fly by my darlings. I almost miss the feeling of my first guests, entering me and.. well *chuckles* never leaving. I remember every single one of you, every room, every single memory we shared together!"
*Groans of the old guests are heard in the distance*
"Aw~! Look at you now, bubbling and withering away, like simple corpses yet I know you're so much more then that. Isn't that right? You are your own person! Your own personality your own... being.
I wonder.. if I bring you back? No? Wouldn't that be fun babies!? *she laughs evilly.*
I feel as my little guests swirl around inside me, like butterflies in my stomach. I could almost blush at the thought of them dying over and over, an infinite torment much different from the one they are experiencing now. I do run this hotel! *said in a gruff, angry voice, mimicking the owner*"
*rapid shuffling of papers fills the void.*
[Ted Barrow]
*he has a slightly more monotone voice now*
"Hello. I am the Gardener of this hotel, I tend to the plants, the creatures as well. My Hotel has given me the blessing of a second choice *his voice cracks in fear* a second choice, to prove myself worthy! I am worthy of her love, she has only been kind to me... I.. I WILL!
*Sounds of him almost choking, but then it goes back to monotone.*
Here at the Hotel, the plants bring atmosphere, a touch of her spark. Without atmosphere the Hotel truly wouldn't be as perfect as it is now.
I grab a tin of water, pouring it into the foliage, the dirt grows to mud. The dirt is stained red, perhaps a body is fertilizing my crops, but I wouldn't dare question her choices, all I know is it's healthy for my babies, a good cleanup job as-well. The roots of my hands grasp around the can I am holding, sun beating down onto my neck; I thank her for the sun, without it, my plants would surely die off. As I pour out the water, I see the last drop hit the green leaves, I suppose I could refill it. I walk over to a hose, turning it up and filling my watering can once more. I don’t know why I have done this though, I shouldn’t risk overwatering my plants. So I put down the can and pick up a small shovel, it fits perfectly in my palm, my /wooden/ palm. I get down onto my knees by the dirt, and like any person with a shovel would, I start digging in the ground. The farther I dig the harder it becomes, the more the muck covers my body, the more the gore spills out. I should have put on gloves because my hands have grown sweaty and warm from the sun and the fleshy dirt. I pull out a long worm from the ground, it doesn’t look natural, but nothing here is. I flick it away with my finger *squish.*
Pathetic.
I find my destination in the ground, a nice red pooling area, I reach deep into my pocket and pull out snapdragon seeds. I suspect Madam will like them, not only for their appearance but for their name, it’s comical. She always makes me laugh. *monotone laugh.* I place three seeds into the ever so slowly growing puddle of crimson mud. Then with the shovel I had used to destroy the earth, I ever so carefully cover the seeds in fresh dirt from a bag. I pat the ground, like how a father would pat his child’s back, and then pick up that watering can.
Hm…
I sprinkle some water on top.
*the sound of water starts flooding over his voice.*
This seems.. familiar…
*it ends with an overbearing sound of water being spilt like rain.*
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dualityvn · 1 year
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Anyways, before you started being a little shit, I was gonna tell you about some good news, and I GUESS I still will even though I should be IGNORING YOU RIGHT NOW.
So you remember my trees right? And how I got several kinds instead of just wisteria? And how I got impatient and started germinating my Red Maple and Black Pine trees? well I planted them a bit ago AND THE FIRST ONE SPROUTED AND IM SO EXCITED I ACTUALLY FUCKING SQUEALED WHEN I GOT HOME FROM WORK AND SAW IT I WAS SO FUCKING HYPED LIKE GENUINELY SKIPPING AROUND AND SMILING LIKE A GOOF
So its one of the Black Pine seeds I planted and they’re so pretty already, like I’ve been so down and stressed lately but when I tell you that all immediately melted away when I saw that seedlings I MEAN IT IM SO HAPPY
I was really worried they wouldn’t sprout because the seeds didn’t show up in the best condition, but I was so relieved to see at least one did, I’ll give the others some more time before losing hope.
I did plant my Red Maple seeds before I planted the others so I’m more worried about them, they’re supposed to turn white once they’re done germinating but only a few did, plus before that I was supposed to rub the outer coat off of the seeds, which I did, but I’m scared I might been too rough with them :,))
But that doesn’t matter as much because at least one sprouted IM SO HAPPY THAT AT LEAST ONE SPROUTED.
OH MY GOD AND I FOUND OUT THERES A SEED LIBRARY NEAR WHERE I LIVE WHERE THEY GIVE OUT SEEDS FOR DIFFERENT PLANTS FOR FREE.
It’s taking every ounce of self control I have not to go over there and grab everything, I need to wait until I have more space, but it’s just so exciting, I think I’m gonna try my garden again once winters over, I’ll use the tips you gave me to keep the squirrels and rabbits away, and I’m gonna go for even more flowers this time!!
Sigh like I’m so stupidly giddy about all of this, I don’t talk about it enough but I really do love plants so much, I envy you, getting to work in a flower shop, that sounds so amazing.
And as much as I love winter and it being colder I can’t wait to be back to gardening, I think I’ll try and plant something that reminds me of you, like a few sunflowers.
Lmao actually did you know I spent a stupid amount of time just a few days ago making these crude paper flowers for work, I ended up making like 120 of them and destroyed my hands in the process, and as much as I hated doing them then, people seemed to really like them so I'm happy I did it.
OH AND RECENTLY IVE BEEN TAKING A LIKING TO SNAPDRAGONS, BUT NOT REALLY FOR THE FLOWER. THE SEED PODS ARE SO FUCKING COOL (I think you would like them too TenTen) THEY LOOK LIKE SKULLS AND ITS FUCKING AWSOME
Okay I’ll shut up and stop being a dork. You don’t get an ‘I love you’ this time because you’re a brat. I don’t use anon ONCE and you come at me, tsk.
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(Here is my precious beautiful baby I’m naming the Primis <3)
"Those are great news! I'm so happy for you! Aaah, I wish I still had a garden. I can only care for plants that would live well in an apartment. I'd give anything to be able to grow a large garden full of flowers again.
But I wish you good luck with yours! And with little Primis! I'm sure it'll grow into a wonderful tree, especially if it's in your care.
And I'm glad it made you feel better. Plants help me with stress too, they're like silent little friends. I've shown Tenebris snapdragon seed pods before. He said they're the coolest babies he's ever seen.
Then I'll say it for both of us! Love you to the moon and back." - Keith
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coffeeghoulie · 1 year
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Mushy May Day 4: First Kiss
Day four of @forlorn-crows Mushy May prompts, thank you again for putting this together!
Pairing: Mountain/Dew
Words: 766
Rating: Gen
Contains: Dew being impulsive, and Mountain’s love language being gift-giving
“I’ve got something for you, firefly,” Mountain says, leaning down to whisper in Dew’s ear as they cross paths in the hallway. “Meet me in my greenhouse after dinner?”
Dew lights up. Mountain is always hesitant to invite the others into his greenhouse, but when he does, normally it’s to show them what new strains he’s been growing, and Dew’s always been an eager guinea pig. “Sure thing, big guy. I did get stuck on dishes, so it might be a minute.”
Mountain smiles at him, readjusting the tie holding his auburn hair out of his face. It’s long enough to brush over his shoulders, and he keeps it half up, half down. “There’s no rush, Dew. It’s not time sensitive.”
After dinner, Dew rushes through his chores without even a grimace. He can’t stop smiling, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 
Dew loves being in the greenhouse. It’s a small building, filled to the brim with shelves and tables and raised beds of every kind of plant Dew could imagine. The space is lit with various candles and small lanterns hanging from the rafters in between numerous hanging baskets.  In the far back corner is a daybed and a table and chairs. Mountain spends most of his time here, practically lives in his own garden. His bedroom often goes unused for weeks, spending his nights between here and his packmates’ rooms. 
The air is warm and humid, and Dew feels his body relax as he shuts the door behind him. He takes a deep breath through his nose, and it smells green. “Mount? You home?”
“Yeah, I’m in here, Dewey,” the ghoul in question says, getting up from behind a rosebush in the middle of the room. “You got dishes done quick tonight, even for you.”
Dew tries to act nonchalant, moving his long, blond hair over one shoulder. “You know how it is, I’m not one to pass up an opportunity to spend some time with you.”
“How sweet, firefly,” Mountain chuckles, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face, leaving a smudge of dirt across a freckled cheek. “But I don’t have any new weed for you to try tonight.”
“Then what’s up?” Dew presses, trying to keep the slight disappointment out of his tone. 
“A couple months ago, some siblings traded me some new seed packets for some medicinal herbs. And recreational, let’s be honest,” Mountain says, scuffing his bare paw on the packed dirt floor. “I got them to grow. I didn’t want to show you until I got it to flower.”
He walks over to one of the shelves above his bed, and pulls down a terracotta pot filled with red and orange cone shaped flowers. “These are snapdragons. They, well, they remind me of you. These are yours, for your room.”
Dew’s eyes flick back and forth between the flowers being pressed into his hands and Mountain’s earnest expression. He runs a finger against a delicate petal. “Thank you, Mounty. I’m serious. These are beautiful.”
“You’re welcome, firefly,” Mountain says, his smile dimpling his cheek. He scratches the back of his neck, a dusky flush spreading across his face.
Dew’s an impulsive ghoul. Acting on those impulses, a lot of the time, gets him in trouble. But that doesn’t stop him. 
It doesn’t stop him from standing up on his tiptoes, leaning over the snapdragons and pressing a kiss to Mountain’s lips. He tastes of sweetmint and sage, and his eyes widen, bright green, a perfect match to the plant life all around them. 
Dew pulls away, his own eyes widening as he seems to realize what he’s done, face burning. “Shit, Mount, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask before I, I, I should just go.”
He turns to hurry out of the greenhouse, to hide in his own room, but Mountain reaches out and grabs Dew’s wrist.
“Don’t go, droplet,” he says, pulling Dew so he’s facing him, and he bends down and his lips are on his again. Dew melts into it, eyes flickering closed, nearly dropping the precious flowers Mountain grew for him. 
Mountain takes the pot from his hands and sets it on a nearby table without breaking the kiss, pushing aside a few papers to clear a spot. With his hands free, Dew reaches up and cups Mountain’s face. Eventually, Mountain pulls away to suck in a desperate breath. 
Dew grins up at him, shoving him back towards his bed. This is so much better than trying a promising strain of weed. Dew flashes his fangs at Mountain and kisses him again.
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vine-black · 1 month
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It begins, again.
Everyone is still inside for now, despite our positive 15 days. Nights are still too chilly for comfort, and we may see one last brief snow some time next week. I think my dog is looking forward to getting his napping spot by the sliding door back, once all these confounded pots are out of his way.
I've started lots of tomatoes, mostly from a mixbag of F1 varietals, so we will see how that turns out. It's like some kind of cherry tomato gachapon. Pictured with the above mentioned tomato is a tiny basil I've planted in the pot with him. Tomatoes like a little flavourful friend.
I have so very many french marigolds I've started from open pollinated seed I saved from last season. 28 of these goofy bitches so far. They will not be stopped. Pictured here also are a couple of rogue snapdragons from Mckenzie's Magic Carpet mix. I will share those boys later.
I'm doing multiple pots of the Heavenly Blue morning glories, I really loved growing them last year. I wish I lived somewhere where I could have them grow up the side of my house, but our season is too short and dry, our winters are too bitter. But it's nice to dream, isn't it?
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jynjackets · 6 months
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I just tried to garden this past week as the main reason for my hiatus. And i literally feel like an 1800s farmer sweating under the direct sun for 8+ hours with no tools invented and only a dog as my helper.
-My apartment came with a first floor backyard which was really a blessing I never utilized. So step one was lawn care for my dog. Everyday I’m hauling dirt, grass seed, pots etc. from everywhere what I can find for free/cheap on Craigslist. Then I’m killing weeds, pulling that’s shit from the root because that was cheaper than a ton of chemicals that could hurt my son since he eats everything he lays his eyes on. Aerating this shit (poking holes for fucking grass to grow from the ground, so EVERYWHERE) with a goddamn kitchen fork because I don’t want to buy tools for this one use but I NEED to get it done. And then planting seeds and fertilizer to get it growing.
-I totally forgot, the real step one was picking up like two years worth of my dog’s shit. The yard was such a blessing also because whenever I couldn’t or was too lazy to take my dog out to poop I just left yard open for him to go out. And the lawn is like literally just a lawn of shit. It’s everywhere. He just goes outside when he wants and poops twice a day out there. You can’t even do anything with the poops, they don’t go in the compost or anything and are kind of bad for the environment so I couldn’t even leave it there. The little poop bags that are biodegradable it doesn’t even matter because you have to put the whole thing in the trash but I guess instead of plastic and poop in the landfill it’s just poop. It’s all just so odd to me.
-Anyways so I’m shopping for fertilizer and I’m like, this is just dirt, why would I buy dirt and scrap when I can make it.
-And so THEN, I get inspired to start a compost bin. I get hardware supplies and follow a YouTube video to make a tumbling compost bin that basically makes fertilizer FOR FREE. (That literally took me so much work holy shit.) It’s not done because it has to decompose for like a month so I can’t even use it yet. But yay environment. Environmentalism by the individual is the weakest attempt at social justice because the issue lives with rich corporations that do more damage than the masses combined. Pathetic movements to be more environmentally conscientious disproportionately affect the lower class and people with disabilities by increasing taxes and limiting options and services like plastic straws for example for a population already living among systems and structures designed to their disadvantage.
-Step two was to just grow some flowers! And not veggies because last time I tried to grow onions from one of those fabric bags and got so sick after eating them. maybe because there was hella moss growing around it idk tho
-I’m planting these sunflowers and they’re chilling and incubating before the winter so they pop out by spring HOPEFULLY. After I planted them I found out the difference between annuals and perennials and said what the fuck the perennials are kinda ugly like you don’t gift someone just some snapdragons and wimpy zinnias like. So next year I might replant or switch it up so they can grow themselves, depends how tired I am by that time.
-My bad for trying to do this on a strict budget by converting everything into manual labor but this was fun. My son likes to eat grass so hopefully this was all worth it lmao.
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elvimoon · 1 year
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I think there's a lot to be said of the plants we gravitate to and what plants we become associated with. I have a friend who has some of the coolest cactuses in the northern Midwest.  Desert plants that thrive inside a place that gets mountains of snow.  I have another friend who loves monsteras and that is the first plant I think of when thinking of her.  I know another who grows succulents in recycled beer cans on his kitchen window.   A friend in the Keys with a variety of orchids.  A coworker who had an aloe aristata on her desk.  An old professor who gave me a cutting of purple heart from the hanging planter he had in his office for nearly 40 years.  The list goes ever onward.
I really like plants that climb. Vines and trailing plants tend to be my jam, a curtain of trailing green hung over windowsills and book shelves. Which isn’t to say those are the only ones I own. I have a handful of succulents that are successful and I love them. I have other tropical plants that enrich my space: Monstera, Schefflera, Pilea, Fern, and more. Still, I don’t know what plant people would associate me with if they’d have to pick.
Or perhaps that is just how I think of people, by the plants they love.
My mother loved bulbs. In my childhood home she turned our front yard into an English Garden of sorts.  We had stone pavers to reach the deeper bits of garden she built during the time she was there and in good health. She planted annuals of every color - vibrant pinks and purples - but also hundreds and hundreds of bulbs. A dense cluster of orange lilies that lined the space next to the garage that stood tall every spring and summer. The same kind that lined the space by the front door, a place of honor as I’m told she had dug up the bulbs from her previous homes every time she moved and transplanted them.  (Those bulbs died when I tried the same 15 years after her passing.)  There were daffodils that signaled Easter in my memory, lining the path by the drive way. Crocus bulbs by the mailbox and the path between the fence to my neighbor’s house, so that we would see them all the time and know when spring was coming. Tulips - hundreds of them in every color - that were the stars of the spring.
The garden promptly got ripped up the summer after her passing. It was too large, too much upkeep. Too much on the hearts of those left behind.  My dad got a landscaper to tame it back. The garden was wrangled to just a decorative perimeter around the house and the boundary was defined with stone. Grass seed was placed and that was that.
That didn’t stop the bulbs.
It became a running joke, “How many could one woman plant before she died?” My mother planted hundreds of tulips alone, as if that were her last mission with her health declining. Every year we would get them growing on the lawn, the ghost of a garden past. Plants that grew seemingly out of spite, as each year the spot they popped up was dug up to remove them at the source. And no matter how many bulbs we removed, more popped up the following year. Tulips bloomed on that yard till the day the house was sold and we had to move.
My mother was superstitious in her plants. I do not remember most of it, too young at the time. But I remember she refused to plant marigolds for some old wives’ tale that they were bad luck around children, a bringer of sadness and misfortune. My mother similarly disliked sunflowers for attracting unwanted attention and for the mess they left (according to an Aunt). She considered snapdragons an ill omen for when the blooms withered, skull looking pods remained. I lean opposite; I plant marigolds wherever I move to because I think the puffy orange blooms bring happiness. (They certainly do to pollinators and I believe that must count for something.) Summer and Fall are not complete to me if I don’t have sunflowers at some point to put in a vase, sticky sap on my fingers from trimming the thick stems. I love snapdragons, full of character - lively and bright - and I find their skull-like husks at the end of their life cycle anything but morbid.
I love gardens and plants in ways my mother did not. And so much of me comes from the tiny window in which I knew her (and I struggle that I didn’t. Not really). I think of my mother and I remember her standing on the front lawn screaming “grow” at freshly planted spring flowers. I think of my mother and I think of green beans kept in a pot with a trellis on the driveway in summer. I think of my mother and I think of her green thumb for plants I’ve yet to figure out. I think of my mother and I think of tulips blooming on green grass outside the boundary of where they’re supposed to be.
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stacywaters · 11 months
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Seeds of Hope (JHOPE) CH1 - The First Seed
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BEFORE READING: The main character, Stacy, has two moms! She calls one of her moms 'Mom' and her second mom (The one from South Korea) 'Eomma' based on the Korean word for mom! This is just a note to avoid confusion. Happy reading! 
I look down at the pavement and notice a cluster of vincas growing in between the sidewalk cracks. They're a magnificent periwinkle shade, and despite the city's busy atmosphere, they grow contently. I wish I could be more like that. I just don't belong here. I'm originally from the United States, but we moved to Seoul because of my eomma. She wants to be closer to her relatives. Luckily, she taught me and my mom some Korean, but we can only keep up a basic conversation.
The vincas remind me of my home, but mainly the garden I had worked on for years. The climbing roses and rainbows of snapdragons, and our weeping cherry tree that I would sit under whenever I felt lonely. I can't find any green here in the city, and my only garden is a window box we squeezed into the balcony of our cramped apartment. I can't enjoy it here. This is not my home.
I reach my mailbox and pull out my recent order. There are no nurseries in Seoul, so I ordered some seed packets online. Excited, I open the poly mailer and take out my packets. They aren't much, but they are enough to satisfy me for now.
A group of idol trainees practice in a street performance next to me. They're quite talented, but I didn't notice at the time as I was too fixated on the seeds. I wish I had, before I bumped into one of the members. I drop my loosely-sealed seed packets, and all my hope disappears as they scatter across the curb. I forget to apologize, trying to salvage as many as I can. The trainees stop dancing and some of them try to help me gather my seeds, but it's no use now. I'll never be able to figure out which seeds are which.
"I'm so sorry, I got too immersed in my dance! Can I help you pick them up?" He asks.
"It's no use now... I won't even be able to recognize them." I reply, tears starting to form in my eyes.
"We can still save some of them!" One of the other boys adds, "It'll just be a surprise when they grow!"
One of the older boys sighs, "you need to be more careful Hoseok!"
"Can I pay you back? How much did they cost?" The original boy said, apparently named Hoseok.
"Don't worry about it. I'm the one who bumped into you, It's my fault." I said.
"But-"
"Thank you guys for trying." I stood and brushed off my knees, leaving the scene. Those seeds were my last hope.
When I open the door to my apartment, my mom already begins to ask me questions.
"How's the new school going? I know you're not that interested in performing arts, but it was the closest one we could find to our apartment."
"It's fine." I replied.
"Do you have any electives?"
"The only annoying class is dance, I'm terrible at it."
"That's too bad." My mom sighed, "Do you have any friends in the class who could help you?"
"No." I've been trying to end this conversation. I'm already in a bad mood, and the last thing I want to talk about is dance.
"Hey, aren't midterms coming up?" She asks, persistent.
Oh shoot- I start to panic. I forgot about tomorrow. We have to memorize a long choreography, and I can hardly do seconds of it. I don't want to tell her though, because then she'll want to help and I really just need to be alone.
"Yeah." I try to answer nonchalantly.
"So?" She raised her voice a bit, "Do you have any important ones soon?"
"I don't think so," I lied.
"You need to stay on top of these things, Stacy."
I hum in response and retreat to my bedroom. The apartment is small, but at least I get some privacy.
After I hear the click of my door closing I rush to open my laptop. I pull up the video showing the dance we have to do, and feel chills run down my spine.
There's no way...
I won't be able to get this in on time
Still, I practice as hard as I can to spare as much embarrassment as possible tomorrow, though some is inevitable.
Hoseok's Perspective:
"Don't worry hyung! I'm almost done picking them up..." Jungkook says.
"Don't bother, she already left." Namjoon tells him.
I feel really bad. I didn't even notice her as I was dancing, it was my fault. I get the feeling those seeds meant a lot to her.
I notice something near the empty seed packets. I walk over to investigate, finding the poly mailer her seeds came in. An idea came to me. If her address is on the packaging, I can find her and apologize!
"You guys continue without me. I have to go."
"What? But we only just got started..." Taehyung complains.
"I know I know, but this is important!" I counter.
Without any further words said, I head off to find her.
I reached the building the packaging led me to. I walked up the stairs to her floor, which was easy to find because this is also the building I live in. I happen to live in the apartment beside hers. I feel even worse now, how could I have already made a bad impression on my new neighbor?
I ring the doorbell before I even figure out what to say when she answers. After a pause, I hear aggressive footsteps approach the door.
"Hello, what can- wait... you?" She answers.
"H-hi! I-um, I wanted to... give you back the packaging to the-uh, to the seeds." nailed it.
"Oh, you didn't really have to. Thanks." she replied, not even looking at me.
An awkward silence forms as we both run out of things to say. I notice beads of sweat on her face, and she seems to be slightly winded. Based on her tone of voice and stance, she seems tense.
Curious, I ask, "So... what are you up to?"
"Oh, I have this assignment for a class I'm taking."
"Hmm. What class is it? Er- if you don't mind me asking." I try to continue. She seems hesitant, so I attempt to lighten the mood.
"It's just 'cause some of my friends, or, I guess other trainees, are also going to a school in this area, so if you're going to that one you might know them."
"Ah." She said, not very interested in my ramble. "It's a dance class. Dance One."
My expression lifts and I get excited. Maybe I can help her! That's how I'll repay her. I love dance, I'm sure I can be useful in some way for this assignment.
She continues, "-but it's really stupid. I hate dancing. I'm not good at it, and it looks really dumb anyways."
Hey everyone!!! :D
First chapter done already! This is my first fan fiction, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you for reading!
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katrinawritesthings · 11 months
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Jonghyun/Taemin; dude be cool ; PG
Taemin showing Jonghyun all of his plants around the house and Jonghyun desperately trying to keep his shit together
He can't believe that he's scored enough dates with the cutest plant gay in the universe that now he's actually getting a full plant tour. He's so lucky.
"And over here is my little wildflower meadow." Taemin stops in front of the little yard next to his driveway, proudly holding his arms out to present it to Jonghyun. Jonghyun finishes shimmying in between his car and the dirt, then looks up so he can fully appreciate it.
It's very pretty; the rest of Taemin's garden patches around his house were all full of fruit trees, crops, little herb patches, and the very well named Fucculent Town, but this one looks like it's purely aesthetic. And it really is a meadow; it's a vibrant splash of color from enough different kinds of flowers that Jonghyun losses count around 15. He likes it.
"Did you plant all of these yourself?" he asks, impressed. They look like they're all growing all over each other, no rhyme or reason to it, but without crowding each other out. He reaches out and plucks a snapdragon flower off of its stem, smiling as he squishes it open and closed.
"Uh, some of them," Taemin says. "They sell little native wildflower seed packets, you know?" he gestures vaguely at a couple of specific plants. "Daisies, flax, aster, alyssums, the snapdragons. But after I got it started I just let it do what it wants. Sometimes other flowers show up and if they're not invasive, I let them stay. Those ones–" he points around at a few different round purple bulbs with little stamens sticking out of the tops–"made their way all the way down here from someone's house down the street a couple of years ago." He's practically beaming as he looks at all of his flowers, hopping a little in his excitement.
Jonghyun wants to hop himself just looking at him, he's so cute. He can't believe that he's scored enough dates with the cutest plant gay in the universe that now he's actually getting a full plant tour. He's so lucky. Taemin keeps talking, about how it's good to have wildflowers because they're good for the ecosystem and wildlife and the bugs and everything, and how he feels bad taking out invasive species but again about the ecosystem, and Jonghyun listens with interest as he crouches down and touches all of the flowers.
He always loves how soft flowers are. The petals, the stems. He sniffs a couple, recognizes a couple others by name, a few others by sight. One in particular catches his eye: with long, dark green leaves, purplish stems split out into flowers that are less petal and more long, feathery, soft pink styles that sway in the wind. Jonghyun has never seen any flower like it before. Touching one gently, he looks up and asks, "What's this one called?"
He expected Taemin to have an answer; not for him to glance at it, then do a double-take and frown, crouching down right next to Jonghyun.
"I don't know," he says pensively, reaching out to touch it himself. "Who are you, little visitor?" he asks it.
Little visitor. Jonghyun puts his face in his hands. Taemin is so fucking cute.
"Give me a minute," Taemin says. Jonghyun moves his hands and watches him take out his phone. Taemin takes a picture of the flower, then opens up a chat room app. He sends the picture and types hey what's this???
@everyone quick I'm trying to impress my date lol he adds. Then he glances over his shoulder at Jonghyun, who smiles, sheepish but not guilty at having gotten caught eavesdropping.
"I'll act impressed," he says reassuringly. He's already been impressed by everything else Taemin has shown him today. It really won't be hard to do.
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bigflowerzinniaboy · 2 months
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Keep on the Sunny Side
It is never too early to plan ahead for Spring planting! The location of your garden will be a deciding factor when choosing flowers so ask yourself, how many hours of sun, partial sun and or shade will your garden receive during the summer months and plant accordingly. My list of favorites this year were hardy, drought resistant flowers able to endure the sun for as long as twelve hours per day. The following choices produced brilliant blooms lasting from Spring through the end of summer, they were easy to grow from seed and produced an excellent cutting garden: Rudbeckia - Zinnia - Marigolds - Strawflower - Cleomes - Nicotiana - Snapdragon - Salvia - and Sunflow
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kittykittyhunter · 3 months
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[Posted 11 April 2016] the soldiers entrusted me with their flowers – tall snapdragons and bright tiger lilies but my fingers, too accustomed to being clumsy, tore all the petals and pushed over vases. i wait for a garden to grow (though i did not place any seeds) i wait for a garden to grow. oh weary warlord with blood on your hands, how could you have selected me? don’t you know that my soil is too coarse? don’t you know that my heart is too empty?
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phasianoidea · 7 months
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thinking about growing a snapdragon from a seed for someone to show how deeply I care for them but it’s about to be FALL
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