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mldrgrl · 3 years

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The Matchmaker

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Based on this old prompt I got, which I originally said I couldn’t handle, but then inspiration struck and I had to roll with it.

Scully has only just barely opened the door to the dark office when Mulder is shoving a file into her hands and closing the door behind her. The projector is on, but the screen is blank, just white square of light and Mulder’s silhouette as he takes her to-go cup of coffee from her hands so she can shrug out of her overcoat.

“Once upon a time,” he says, handing her coffee back to her.

“Really, Mulder? Once upon a time?”

He smirks good-naturedly and snatches up the remote to the projector to advance to the first slide. “Once upon a time there was a little tiny tree in a great big forest in New Hampshire.”

“Mmhm.”

Scully tucks the unopened file under her arm and passes through the warm light of the slide projector to put her satchel down at her workstation. She takes a momentary glance at a grainy, black and white photo of a large tree and sips her coffee.

“Estimates have placed this particular tree to be somewhere around 400 years old. This is the earliest photo of it I could find, in the Manchester Daily from 1929.”

“Did someone cut this tiny little tree down and release a great big swarm of deadly mites like the ones we encountered in Washington state?”

“No, nothing like that.” Mulder winces and scratches the back of his head before advancing to the next slide, another black and white photo from a different angle, wider so that the tree in question stands small and alone in the middle of a field against a backdrop of mighty oaks and firs and pines.

“Well?” she asks.

“Did you know there are countless legends about enchanted trees? Trees with magical powers, trees that have the ability to heal or harm or grant wishes or foretell the future?”

“Folklore.”

“Every single culture has some kind of legend about the power of a tree.”

“Mulder, you once tried to tell me the same thing about Bigfoot.”

He ignores the wisecrack and clicks through his slides, narrating the images that appear on the screen. “The Jinmenju tree in Japan is said to have fruit with human faces that laugh at people who happen to walk by. There’s the sacred Norse tree Yggdrasil, center of the cosmos and where the Gods gather for daily court. In Iranian mythology the Bas tokhmak is said to contain seeds that eliminate sorrow and despair. And the Hungarian égig érő fa or sky-high tree that only selected shamans are entitled to climb and encounter magical worlds in the clouds.”

“Sounds suspiciously similar to Jack and the Beanstalk.”

“And then there’s the Hart’s Location Flame Thrower Redbud.”

Scully presumes the new slide is the same tree that was in black and white at the start of the slideshow, only now it’s in color. The leaves are multicolored, mostly red and purple, but some are so dark they’re nearly black. Though small, the tree stands out in sharp contrast to the yellow fieldgrass, blue sky, and the green trees behind it.

“Well, it’s certainly beautiful,” she says.

“The locals call it The Matchmaker.”

Scully snorts softly. “And why is that?” she asks.

“If you open up that file I so generously put together for you, you’ll find newspaper clippings from the past half-century, most of them wedding announcements, citing this tree as a key to what led these couples to a happy union.”

“Mulder...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Of course with any good legend, there’s a catch.”

“Of course there is.” She puts her coffee down and opens the file, but doesn’t take more than a passing glance at the pages she flips through.

“From what I can gather, and keep in mind this is the Cliff’s Notes version of things, people believe the tree can predict compatibility in couples who make the pilgrimage there.”

“And how, pray tell, does the tree do this?”

“Glad you asked!” Mulder advances the next slide, a close up photo of the left hand of a woman. The ring finger is disfigured in some way, appearing to Scully to almost resemble a twig.

“What the hell am I looking at, Mulder?”

“You’re looking at an example of what might happen if a couple is not compatible. There’s an online Usenet group dedicated to finding matches for anyone who’s had, let’s say, experiences with the tree that have left them unrequited.”

“Unrequited?”

Mulder scrolls through the next few slides without comment. There’s another photo of the side of a woman’s face with what appears at first to be a small pinecone earring, but on closer look the pinecone is actually attached to the earlobe. There’s another of a hand, masculine this time, with veins that look like tree roots creeping up from wrist to knuckles. The last one is a forearm covered with a thin layer of moss.

“They say the only way to reverse the effects is by true love’s touch.”

“True love’s touch,” she repeats.

“Hope you’ve got your hiking boots ready and an overnight bag in the car,” he says, clicking over to an aerial photo of a forest. “We’re headed to a little town on the outskirts of Crawford Notch State Park.”

She tries not to sigh in response.

*****

The flight to Manchester is less than two hours and they arrive just before noon. Scully has flipped through the file Mulder gave to her, and though the clippings make for amusing anecdotes, she sees nothing noteworthy or remarkable.

“What exactly is your interest in this case,” Scully asks, buckling her seatbelt after she takes her usual navigational seat in their rental car. “Not that I even believe there actually is a case here, let alone an x-file.”

“You don’t think it’s unusual just how many couples cite that tree as a turning point in their relationships?”

“Not really.”

“You’re not even a little curious?”

“About what?”

“The tree.”

“Quite honestly, I’m far more curious about what you’re going to buy me for lunch than I am about a matchmaking tree.”

He chuckles. “Ah, well, lucky for you our first stop happens to be a diner not too far from here.”

“Yes, lucky me.”

*****

The diner resembles a small cabin and is nestled amongst the trees off the side of the road. She doesn’t want to admit it, but the drive so far has been beautiful. The highway is narrow and tree-lined and it’s autumn. Miles upon miles of yellows and reds and golds and greens and oranges. To say that the road is picturesque would be an understatement.

The little cabin-diner is warm and cozy. A wood-burning stove is on in one corner, easily heating the small space. There’s a long counter with swivel-seats dividing the cabin in half, lengthwise, and four booths pressed up against the front windows, two on either side of the door. Only one man sits at the counter, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. He looks up briefly when Mulder and Scully enter, but immediately returns his attention to his newspaper.

A waitress in an emerald green, button-down dress and starch white apron comes out from behind the counter with two menus. She smiles congenially as she says good afternoon and waves to the booths.

“Take your pick,” she says.

Mulder looks to Scully and she sees him glance at the counter. She nods and cuts her eyes to the nametag pinned above the pocket of the woman’s uniform. “The counter is fine,” she says. “Janet.”

“Sure.” Janet turns and her blonde curls bounce lightly against her back. Her shoes squeak as she makes her way back to the other side of the counter and places the menus down side by side.

“What do you recommend?” Mulder asks.

“Can’t ever go wrong with a burger,” Janet answers, pulling an order booklet out of her apron pocket. “But, the special today is meatloaf. And the soup is tomato bisque.”

“I’ll do the burger. Medium well. Is that pie under that dome back there?”

“Pecan.”

“More of a sweet potato guy.”

“Yeah, me too. Well, sweet potato girl.” Janet laughs and winks and Mulder chuckles and nods.

Scully clears her throat and slaps her menu down on the counter so hard that Mulder jumps. “I’ll have the chicken salad,” she says, pushing the menu towards Janet. “Balsamic vinaigrette on the side, if you have it.”

“Sure.”

Janet swipes the menus from the counter, scribbles their orders down and rips the paper from the pad to slide it through a small window behind her. Scully adjusts her napkin and cutlery as Mulder swivels towards her and leans in close with his elbow on the counter and his hand across his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being hostile to the witness.”

“The witness?”

Mulder inclines his head towards Janet and then raises his eyebrows. “Did you even read the file?”

“I gave it a glance.”

“Janet is one of the unrequited.”

“Too bad for Janet.”

Mulder narrows his eyes a little at her and puckers his lips to form a question. She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly feeling so catty, she just does. No, that’s not true. She does know why she’s feeling catty. The past year her partnership has felt like a game of ping pong, bouncing between extreme highs and extreme lows. And the wedge that was driven between them by Diana Fowley, may she rest in peace, is not far enough in the rear view mirror for her liking. They’re on the mend, both professionally and personally, but she still can’t help but feel threatened in some way when Mulder turns the charm on with strangers.

“I’ll stop being hostile if you stop flirting,” she blurts out, regretting not only what she’s just said, but the way in which it flies out of her mouth.

“Flirting?”

“Forget it.”

“Flirting?”

“Nevermind.”

Mulder straightens in his seat and puts both hands flat on the counter. Scully rolls her shoulders back and tucks her chin down. She lets her hair fall across her cheeks to hide her embarrassment. Janet is suddenly there in front of them again, two glasses of water in her hands.

“Didn’t even ask if you folks wanted something to drink,” she says.

“Got any iced tea?” Mulder asks.

“Sure do.”

“Two lemons, please.”

“And for the lady?”

“I’ll just have the water, thank you,” Scully says.

Janet is gone for what feels like only seconds before she’s bringing a glass of iced tea to Mulder and a small glass dish of lemon slices. Mulder thanks her warmly and for some reason, that makes Scully feel even more chagrined.

“Janet,” Mulder says, reaching into the interior breast pocket of his jacket to grab his ID. “My name is Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully. My partner and I are actually on an assignment right now that you might be able to help us with.”

“Me?”

“Have you ever been out to see a tree they call The Matchmaker?”

The smile on Janet’s face wavers and then fades into a frown. She stands stock still for a few moments and then grabs a rag from the side of the counter as though she’s about to clean something, but then just twists it nervously her hands.

“What do you know about it?” she asks.

“Not much, which is why we’re here. We know from our preliminary investigation that you’re amongst the group that calls yourselves the unrequited.”

Janet nods slowly. “That’s not...a crime, is it?”

“No, no. We’re trying to determine if you might be the victim of one though. It’s my understanding your contact with the tree has left you with some sort of affliction.”

Janet nods again and then hesitates before tucking the rag in her hands into her waistband and coming around the counter. Both Mulder and Scully turn in their seats and Janet turns her back to both of them. She lifts the hair up off her neck and it’s then that Scully’s interest is finally piqued. The back of Janet’s neck is rough and scaly, resembling tree bark. Scully whips a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and leans closer to Janet.

“Do you mind if I…?” Scully asks.

Janet glances over her shoulder at Scully, looks at the gloves she’s pulling on, and then nods her head. “Go ahead,” she answers.

“Agent Scully is a medical doctor,” Mulder says, unnecessarily.

Scully gently prods the ridges at the back of Janet’s neck. It appears as though the skin is very dry and may flake away, but in reality it’s very thick and does not give at all. Mulder hovers over Scully, his chin nearly touching her shoulder.

“It could be an allergic reaction,” Scully says. “It appears to be a localized eczema. Have you seen a dermatologist?”

“I’ve been to every dermatologist in the area,” Janet answers, dropping her hair and turning back around. “They’ve done biopsies, tried laser removal, creams, gels, cryotherapy, the whole nine yards. No one knows what it is or how to treat it.”

“And you think the tree that Agent Mulder mentioned earlier has something to do with this?”

“Oh, I know it does. I was foolish enough to ignore the warnings and so...well, now I’m one of the unrequited.”

“I see.”

“Can you walk us through how it happened?” Mulder asks.

“It was about five years ago now, I was a senior in high school. Me and my boyfriend at the time, Anthony, we thought it would be like a funny thing to do just before graduation. We’d been together all through high school, grown up on the same block, and we were planning on getting married the next fall.”

Scully lets her eyes drop momentarily to Janet’s hands and notes the absence of a ring on her finger.

“You knew of the stories before you went up there?” Mulder asks.

“Oh yeah,” Janet answers. “I mean, if you’re from around here, you hear all about it from the time you’re a kid. And everyone wants to brag about it, you know? You hear from all your friends, my parents touched The Matchmaker and then got married, but no one wants to talk about the other side of it.”

“You and Anthony?” Scully asks. “You never married?”

“Well, how could we? He wasn’t the one.”

“According to the tree.”

“If it was true love, I wouldn’t be afflicted.”

“You really believe that?”

Janet points to her neck. “I didn’t until this happened.”

“You didn’t believe in the legend when you went there?” Mulder asks.

“Not really. Who would believe that a tree could do this?”

“You folks need to talk to Hattie Vale,” the man at the other end of the counter suddenly pipes up, even though he doesn’t even look up from his newspaper.

“Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks, swiveling in his seat to face the older man.

“Mmhm.” He nods once and turns the page of his paper. “That cursed tree is part of her legacy. Janet, I’ll take my check now, if you please.”

“You got it, Wallace.” Janet gives Scully a wry smile before she heads behind the counter again, ripping a page out of her booklet.

“Can you tell us how to find Miss Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Take the red bridge about a mile inside the entrance of Crawford Notch. Sign’ll say private property, but it’s just to try to keep looky-loos away from the tree.” Wallace takes a few bills out of his wallet and puts them on the counter. “Thank you, Janet.”

“See you tomorrow,” Janet says.

“Miss Vale lives out by the tree?” Mulder asks.

Wallace folds his newspaper and then stands and tucks it under his arm. “Go right at the fork, that’ll take you to Hattie. Go left, that’ll take you to The Matchmaker. And take my advice, don’t touch that tree.”

“You have a personal experience you’d like to share with us?”

“No.” Wallace pulls a hat out from his jacket pocket, slaps it on his head, and walks out of the diner.

“Why do I not believe him?” Mulder says to Scully as he turns back to face the counter.

*****

Hattie Vale’s home is exactly where Wallace says it would be. While the diner was a faux cabin, Hattie’s place is the real deal. Scully would not be surprised if it did not have running water or electricity.

The woman that greets them on the porch is both ancient and spry. She’s stocky and squarely built, wearing a thin housedress and a hand-knit sweater and moccasins on her feet. Two long, grey braids fall over her shoulders to her hips. Her face is sunburnt and weathered, deep lines in her forehead and at the sides of her mouth. She grins broadly, revealing a handful of missing teeth.

“I had a feeling I might get visitors today,” she says. “And here you folks are.”

“Are you Hattie Vale?” Mulder asks.

“Sure am. Who’s asking?”

“My name is Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully.” He stops at the edge of the porch and holds up his badge and Scully does the same.

“That supposed to impress me or something?”

“Ah, no Ma’am,” Mulder says, chuckling as he tucks his ID back into his pocket. “We’re investigating some unexplained afflictions associated with a tree in these parts referred to as The Matchmaker.”

“You’re about three centuries too late for that, bub.”

“Forgive me for my tardiness.”

Hattie laughs heartily at Mulder’s joke and Scully has to fight not to roll her eyes at him when he gives a pleased grin in her direction.

“Come on in, I got coffee I can put on.”

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Vale, we only want to ask a few questions,” Scully says.

“Come on in anyway, let me put my feet up.”

Mulder hops up the stairs onto the porch and Scully trudges up behind him. She’s surprised to find that the cabin actually does have electricity and is fairly tidy and well-furnished. The large room is a combination kitchen, dining area and living space. Hand-woven rugs are strategically placed on the wood floors. Knitted blankets are draped over the couch and a lounge chair. There’s no TV, but there is a transistor radio perched on a folding tray next to the chair.

Hattie plops herself down into the lounger and pulls a lever to extend the footrest. She leans back with her hands over her belly and flexes her toes inside her moccasins.

“How long have you lived out here?” Mulder asks, waiting for Scully to take a seat before he perches himself at the edge of the couch.

“Well, I was born here, so I figured I might as well die here too, but I did move out to Vermont for a time when I got married. After I raised my kids and my husband passed, I thought it was as good of time as any to come back. That would’ve been somewhere around 1942, I think.”

“That was fifty-seven years ago,” Mulder says. “You had already raised your kids and been widowed by then?”

Hattie laughs again. “I was born in 1885.”

“You’re 114 years old?”

“Don’t look a day over 100, do I?” She wiggles her shoulders a little and lifts her brows. Even Scully has to smile in amusement.

“Mrs. Vale,” Scully starts.

“Hattie, please. Never liked formalities. So stuffy.”

“Hattie, can you tell us anything about the tree?”

“Maybe why some might say it’s cursed,” Mulder adds, and Scully grimaces.

“A curse? Bah. Sounds like you’ve been talking to my grandson.”

“Who’s your grandson?” Mulder asks.

“Name is Wallace Byrd. He’s my girl Rosemary’s boy.”

Mulder and Scully give each other a glance. “We did...happen to run into someone named Wallace,” Mulder says.

“Wally had a bad go of it when he was a young man. He blames the tree for it, silly boy.”

“So, you don’t think it’s cursed?”

“Not at all, the tree is blessed, if anything.”

“Do you happen to know how it came to be blessed?”

“Oh yes, I can tell you exactly how it came to be.”

There’s a twinkle in Hattie’s eyes as she starts to tell the story of the tree, one that makes Scully even more dubious and Mulder even more interested.

“My four times great grandfather, Jean-Luc Benoit, came to this area from Quebec City in the first half of the 1700s,” Hattie says. “There was a Winnipesaukee tribe that lived nearby and they traded goods often. Jean-Luc fell in love with a squaw from the village called Little Flower, and she with him, much to her father’s dismay. Sensing that Jean-Luc was going to ask for his blessing to marry his daughter, her father met with some of the elders of the village and they told him he would have to ask the white man to pass a test of his true love if he were to take one of their women away.”

Mulder nods encouragingly at Hattie and then grins at Scully. His enjoyment of the tale is palpable. She keeps her gaze straight ahead, afraid she might slip and very unprofessionally roll her eyes at him.

“Little Flower’s father took the advice of the elders,” Hattie continues. “Except, he decided he was going to give the would-be suitor an impossible task. He told Jean-Luc to plant a seed, and only when that seed had flourished and become a tree, could he have his daughter’s hand in marriage. Jean-Luc said his love was unhurried and he would plant the tree and wait as long as it took. A ceremony was held for the planting and to everyone’s astonishment, the tree grew overnight.”

“Overnight?” Mulder asks. “Incredible.”

“I’ll say,” Scully murmurs.

“But, that wasn’t to be the end of it,” Hattie says. “Little Flower’s father was distraught by the turn of events. Instead of turning to the elders as he had before, this time he went directly to the tree, believing the Gods may have grown the tree as punishment for his trickery. He apologized for his wrongdoing and pleaded with the tree for a sign that would show him that Jean-Luc was worthy. When he went home, his village was in chaos. They told him that right before their eyes, his daughter had started growing leaves where her hair was and roots where her feet were and that she reached up to the sky and her arms became limbs and her fingers became branches.”

“She turned into a tree?” Mulder asks.

“So they say. Little Flower’s father was distraught and horrified. He tried pulling her feet from the earth, but the roots just grew deeper. When he saw that he could do nothing, he ran to Jean-Luc and asked for his help. The instant that Jean-Luc touched the tree that Little Flower had become, she was restored to her human self.”

“And since then, people have come to ask the tree to show them who their true love is?” Mulder asks.

“That’s about right. Mostly locals though, passing the story along to their children and grandchildren.”

“Mrs. Vale, Hattie, are you aware of any pesticides that may have been sprayed around the tree or perhaps any poisonous foliage that might surround the area?” Scully asks.

Hattie shrugs. “Been years since I’ve been out by that tree. The state took that part of the land years ago when they formed the park.”

“Have you heard about people coming away from the tree with afflictions?” Mulder asks. “Skin problems, or physical ailments of some kind? You said your grandson, Wallace, believes the tree to be cursed. Has he been suffering from an ailment after contact?”

“Ailments? No. Broken heart is more like it. Wallace brought his sweetheart out to the tree before he proposed. He was a believer in the legend and said the tree showed him that Corrine, that was his girl, was his true love. A week before their wedding she was killed in an automobile accident. He never got over it. Now, he thinks the tree cursed him to a life alone. I tried to tell him many times not to take stock in that tale. It’s just a tale, after all.”

“So, you don’t believe in the legend?” Mulder asks.

“Believe in a tree that grows overnight and wraps a girl up in branches?” Hattie laughs. “You’d have to be crazy to believe in that kind of thing.”

It’s Scully’s turn to grin and Mulder smiles good-naturedly. He stands, and Scully does as well.

“Thank you for your time,” Scully says.

“Could you tell us, what’s the best way to reach the tree from here?”

“Once you cross back over the bridge head due west. The ‘no trespassing’ signs should lead you right to it.”

*****

It really is a stunning tree, Scully thinks, as they stand before it. The photos didn’t do it justice. The sun shines onto the top of the tree, making it look alive with red-purple flames. The branches curve out and the leaves cascade like a waterfall. The field grass flutters in the wind like a golden wave around their feet and the leaves of all the trees that surround them shake and rustle. She has to brush her hair from her eyes and away from her cheeks.

“Well, I guess we should take a look,” Mulder says.

“What is it that we’re looking for?” she asks.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know, Mulder, I’m not a botanist. Plants aren’t something I ever took a strong interest in. I’m not even sure I’d truly be able to identify poison ivy if I came across it.”

“Leaves of three, let them be.” Mulder smiles as he pulls on a pair of gloves. “Something we used to say as kids to avoid it when we were camping.”

“And somehow I’m guessing you still managed to pull your share of rashes.”

“I don’t know where these baseless accusations are coming from, but I will neither confirm nor deny the generous supply of Calamine Lotion my mother kept on hand for such occasions.”

Scully snorts softly and pulls her own pair of gloves on. Mulder is already crouching before the tree, running his hand over the dirt. He picks up a fallen leaf and twirls it by the stem.

“It looks like a heart,” he tells her, turning it upside down and holding it up between pinched fingers. He’s right.

“Bag it,” Scully says, handing him a plastic bag. “We’ll need soil samples as well. Maybe scrape some bark off as well.”

“I take it your theory is the tree is toxic?”

“Perhaps.”

“Mmhm.” Mulder seals up the leaf and stands back up. “Any of those poisonous plants you mentioned before known to cause skin irritations for over five years?”

“Mulder, I’m fairly certain that contact with this tree is merely coincidence. Take Janet, for example, she could have daily exposure to an allergen without even knowing it, causing that rash at the back of her neck, her laundry detergent, for example.”

“Something that all of the dermatologists she’s been to have failed to diagnose?”

“I’m only saying that there are more probable explanations for why someone would develop a skin irritation than a centuries old legend.”

“Probable, but not implausible,” he says.

“Mulder, you’re crazy,” she answers with a shake of her head and a small laugh.

He pockets the plastic-wrapped leaf and then walks away from her to circle the tree. Scully studies the lush mane of leaves, trying to determine the best possible way to part them and reach the trunk. She puts her hands into a gap and a few birds fly up and out of the tree in a panic, their wings flapping wildly. She jumps back, heart racing. A sudden breeze ruffles the back of her hair and she shivers. Goosebumps prick her arms, but she isn’t cold. Her shoulder pulls up automatically as the inside of her ear is tickled with what feels like a soft whisper.

“Mulder?” She turns, but no one is there. She hurries to the other side of the three and spots Mulder a few yards away, looking up into the white pines that border the clearing.

Scully turns back to the tree and finds another gap in the leaves to part. She cautiously pushes them aside and finds she’s able to lift a section back and step under the canopy of branches. Hunching slightly, she pulls her pocketknife out and scrapes a bit of bark from the thin trunk and bags it. She crouches down to collect some dirt as well. As she straightens her knees, her heel comes back and catches on a tree root and she stumbles. Her first instinct is to throw her arm out and her hand smacks into the tree trunk. She can feel the bark bite into her palm through her glove and the inside of her wrist is scraped in her efforts to prevent herself from falling.

“Dammit,” she mutters, wobbling into her hunched position and letting go of the tree. She pulls the sleeve of her blazer up to inspect her hand. There’s debris on her glove and the inside of her wrist is scratched red, but the skin wasn’t broken and she’s not bleeding. She rotates her wrist a few times and fortunately it doesn’t feel sprained, just a little sore.

“Scully!” Mulder calls.

“Yeah,” she answers, warily.

“Where are you?”

“In here.” She can hear the crunching of the field grasses and leaves underfoot as Mulder approaches. She pulls the cuff of her sleeve down over her wrist before pushing the leaves aside like drapery and steps out from the canopy.

“You have…” Mulder approaches and reaches up to pluck a leaf from her hair.

“Thanks.”

“It matches,” he says, twirling the red leaf softly against the ends of her hair.

A breeze comes up again and that same whisper and tickle of her ear returns. She shivers again and moves her hand up to take the leaf from Mulder, but he pulls it back and puts it in his pocket.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“Bagged up some bark and some dirt.”

“You ask the tree if it was cursed?”

“I did.”

“What was the answer?”

“Stop letting your crackpot partner talk you into fruitless jaunts to the forest.”

Mulder chuckles. “There is some poison oak in the woods up there. You’ll be happy to know I steered clear.”

“Wonderful,” she says, wincing as her wrist burns slightly when she peels off her gloves.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You think those are storm clouds rolling in over there?”

She nods slightly, rotating her wrist in her pocket. It’s beginning to itch.

“I guess we should probably head out then?”

“No argument from me.”

*****

They leave New Hampshire with nothing more than the samples and family legends. Mulder finally accepts there isn’t much of a case to be had, especially when they can’t find any other afflicted locals to speak with, and they return home. They run the samples through the lab, but the results don’t account for any toxins.

A week passes and Scully’s wrist doesn’t seem to stop itching. It’s at its worst during the day at work and seems to calm at night when she goes home. She sees a dermatologist who can’t find anything wrong, but gives her a prescription for an anti-itch cream that does nothing to help.

They’re out of town again, on a case in Iowa. She shouldn’t be relieved to be doing autopsies again, but it’s been awhile since she’s been in a morgue and not out in the field. She’s either too busy to notice her itching wrist, or it miraculously ceases to bother her for the day. When she’s back at the motel, having a pizza dinner over crime scene photos and witness statements, her whole hand starts to feel like it’s on fire. She excuses herself from the table and shuts herself in the bathroom.

By all outward appearances, nothing is wrong with her wrist. It’s not inflamed, it’s not scratched, it’s not even red anymore, but her skin crawls. She holds it up to the light and takes a closer look, running her thumb across the line where wrist meets palm. There does seem to be a slight bump where there wasn’t one before. She checks her left wrist in comparison and then the right one again. When she scratches at the little bump with her nail, she can actually feel a slight pull under her skin. She pushes at it with her thumbnail and then her skin ruptures and what looks like the stem of a leaf emerges.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. There is a pair of tweezers in her toiletry kit that she finds and then plucks lightly at the stemp, but it doesn’t budge. It doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t bleed and no matter how hard she pulls, the stem is immobile. After only a few minutes she’s nearly in tears with frustration. She wipes her watering eyes dry and then goes back to the table to rejoin Mulder.

“I need to show you something,” she says.

Mulder pauses with his hands full of photos and looks at her. He sets them down and then wipes his hands on his pants and leans forward, elbows on the table. “Okay,” he says. “Show me.”

Scully pulls the sleeve of her shirt up and drapes her hand across the table, wrist up. Mulder looks down at her hand and then up at her. He moves his face closer to her arm and tilts his head from side to side.

“What am I looking at?” he asks.

“When we were in New Hampshire, I scraped my hand on that tree.”

“The Matchmaker?”

“Yes. It wasn’t a bad scrape, no skin was broken, but since then, my wrist has not stopped itching.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I tried using my tweezers on it, but it wouldn’t come out.”

Mulder picks up Scully’s hand with both of his and runs his thumbs across the bottom of her palm. Her whole arm tingles when he touches her and she can feel something move beneath her skin.

“It feels like...I’m not sure...” Mulder puts a little more pressure on Scully’s wrist and slides one of his thumbs up to her palm. Suddenly it feels like her whole hand opens up somehow and something unfurls out of her wrist like a butterfly to rest in her palm. It’s a red, heart-shaped leaf.

They’re both silent, staring down at her hand, at the leaf. Her arm still tingles and she sways slightly, lightheaded. “Mulder…how did…?”

“I don’t know.”

“What just happened, Mulder, it’s impossible.”

“Well, there is one explanation.”

“Don’t say it.”

“You touched the tree.”

“A tree didn’t do this, Mulder.” She jumps up from the table, determined to pull the leaf from her hand, but it’s stuck to the stem and the stem won’t budge. “I need scissors.”

“Well wait, maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I am a doctor!” She rushes back into the bathroom to get the small scissors from her toiletry bag. Mulder follows behind and watches as she attempts to cut at the leaf and the stem, but the scissors just slide right off of the leaf as though it refuses to be cut.

“Stop,” Mulder says, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Come on.”

“Mulder, there is a leaf growing out of my hand!”

“I can see that, come out here.”

Mulder guides her out of the bathroom back to the table, but she doesn’t want to sit. She stares at her palm and at the leaf while Mulder sits and then he brings her towards him with his hands on her hips.

“Let me see,” he says.

Scully reluctantly shows him her hand and he holds it gently, tracing the shape of the leaf in her palm with his index finger. He pinches the leaf between his fingers and pulls gently and the stem slides out of her wrist without any effort at all. When it’s completely free of her hand, she feels something wash over her that she can only describe as utter euphoria. She sways slightly on her feet, leaning into Mulder and putting her hands on his shoulders to hold herself up.

“Scully?” The leaf flutters to the ground as he grabs her hips.

“Oh, I feel…”

“Sit down.” He stands and tries to urge her to sit, but she holds onto his arms and shakes her head.

“No, I…” She feels overwhelmed by something she can’t describe, but the force with which she aches to be as close to Mulder as possible is powerful. It’s like she can’t breathe, but he is oxygen. It’s like she’s freezing and he’s a warm fire.

“I really think you should sit down,” he whispers.

“Mulder,” she says, blinking lethargically. Her voice is slow and her eyes are heavy. “If it was the tree, then that would mean…”

Mulder puckers his lips a little and his chin juts forward as he swallows. “It would mean whatever you want it to mean,” he says.

Her heart hammers in her chest. She tingles from head to toe, but especially where his hands grip her hips and where his arms press against hers. She opens her mouth a few times, but doesn’t know what to say.

“I heard you, you know,” he says.

“Heard me?”

“When I was exposed to the artifact.” He lets go of her with one hand to reach up and lightly touch his fingers to her forehead. “I heard you. I don’t need an enchanted tree to tell me what I already know.”

She should feel embarrassed, and maybe two months ago she would have, maybe even two minutes ago, she would have, but not now. She drops her gaze to his mouth and then she looks up into his eyes again. By some unspoken, mutual agreement, they both lean in. Mulder bends and tips his head to the right, Scully lifts onto her toes and lets her eyes slip shut just before his mouth touches hers. The kiss is soft and unhurried. It’s tender and sweet in a way that makes her feel warm and secure.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she whispers against his lips.

“What part of it?”

“All of it.”

“Of course you don’t.” He chuckles and bends down to pick up the leaf he dropped. He twirls it between his fingers and then brushes it against her nose.

“It’s just not possible.”

“All of it?” He cocks his head a little and his eyes fall to her mouth.

“Maybe not all of it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” He smiles, and bends to kiss her again, but she leans away and puts two fingers against his lips.

“Why did you take me up there?” she asks.

“I’ve owed you a nice trip to the forest for about seven years.”

“Is that all?”

“Autumn in New England? I only wish we could’ve found something worthwhile to stick around a little longer.”

“So, you never intended for…”

“For you to start becoming part tree? Not at all.”

“Oh my god, I just can’t...I can’t wrap my brain around it. It’s…” She covers her face with both hands and shakes her head.

Mulder kisses the knuckles on her right hand. “You wouldn’t be you if you believed it. Once upon a time there was a very skeptic little g-woman named Scully.”

“You are not allowed to start any stories with ‘once upon a time’ any longer,” she says, taking her hands away from her face. “Bad things happen in fairy tales.”

“Well you are forgetting one thing though.”

“What?”

“They always end with ‘happily ever after.’”

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #definitely non canon #but set somewhere after The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati #msr

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writingithink · 4 years

Note

You asked for it!!! Prompt number 5 and Tentoo/Rose 😂💖

Alright so this somehow got out of hand, just a little.

[Send me a prompt and a Doctor (9-11) x Rose pairing!]

Aerial View Necessary Rated: T Pairing: Tentoo x Rose Wordcount: 3,360

Read it on AO3

It had taken quite a few months for them to get here, months in which she thought she was going to go absolutely insane, but they finally did it. She and the Doctor had a house of their own. With doors, and carpets, and all of the other domestic things a house on Earth came with.

Oddly enough, it was the Doctor who had first suggested it.

They had only been staying at the mansion for five days - not even a full week. Just five days since saving the multiverse, since Bad Wolf Bay (again), since he had been essentially created. Things had been … awkward. After so long apart they had to get used to each other again, but that was compounded by all of the changes that came with his metacrisis - some of which delighted him, while others had him throwing fits.

So when he had stormed into her room on their fifth day together on parallel Earth, Rose had assumed that he was having another tantrum, like the one the evening before when he found out that he could no longer eat an entire tin of biscuits without getting a stomach ache (she had been equal parts annoyed with and sad for him). She was barely awake, had just managed to pull herself up onto her elbows when he collapsed on the bed next to her.

“Let’s get out of here. Our own place. What do you say?” He looked quite manic for 8 in the morning.

“What?” she had asked, still groggy but quickly waking. “Where’d this come from?”

“I, Rose Tyler, absolutely refuse to live with your mother.”

For all of the new little quirks and biological changes, he really wasn’t all that different. Once she’d gotten ready for the day, cuppa in hand, Rose had taken a seat at the kitchen island, laptop already out from the day before, and started looking up flats online. It wasn’t long before the Doctor was there, looking over her shoulder and somehow managing to get jam in her hair.

“No, no, no,” he started, “not a flat. Too small. Too many other humans right on top of us. Or below us. Or to the side. You know what, never mind, forget that bit. We need a house.”

“Really? You? A house?”

Years may have passed, but his horror at the prospect of a mortgage while orbiting a black hole wasn’t the kind of thing she was ever going to forget.

“Yup. Not like this one, but a good size. The TARDIS will need her own room. Oh! And I think I would fancy a garden. Not just a small one, but a proper yard. We could have a pool! Do those come with houses, or do you have to get them separately?” the Doctor babbled, leaning over her in order to begin making his own searches, fingers typing on the keyboard at a ridiculous speed that the machine was having difficulty keeping up with.

Then her mum came in.

“What are you two up to now?” she’d asked.

Before Rose could think of a way to ease her mother into this new development, the Doctor had taken the matter completely out of her hands.

“Getting a house. What do they mean ‘request a viewing’? Aren’t I viewing it now? They’ve got 23 pictures.”

It had all gone downhill from there. Her mum had had plenty of opinions, and went from enthusiastically trying to do the house hunting for them to harsh disapproval of the whole thing seemingly from moment to moment throughout the entire process. And the Doctor’s combination of unending enthusiasm and complete ignorance made it all … well, it was never boring, that’s for sure.

Also, he turned out to be very picky, which shouldn’t have surprised her.

Their realtor hated them.

But now it was over, and here they were in their own house. Their own home.

It was two stories, with four bedrooms (“One for us, one for the TARDIS, one to use for, you know … whatever. Office? Workshop? And then an extra, just in case, you know … because what if we need it?”) and three bathrooms. The sitting room was cozy, and the kitchen was spacious, and there wasn’t a separate dining area (“What do we need a dining room for? When have we ever had people over for dinner?”). They had a finished basement (which the Doctor had more ideas for than it had space, but Rose figured he would have to figure that out for himself) and an attached garage, as well as a shed out back (“It will be perfect, you know, for projects that are too big for the house … well, not too big, the shed is quite small, but you know, too, er, combustible.”). It also had a pool, but not a hot tub - she had had to convince him that they could easily buy one when he almost told the realtor no (again). And their garden was huge.

Rose didn’t know what to even do with it, she’d never had a garden before. Well, the last few years at the mansion she did technically have one - but that was different. It was her parents garden (well, grounds would be more accurate) and it was tended to by gardeners. In the excitement of moving in, she let the issue of lawncare slip her mind.

Neither her nor the Doctor had many things - despite years living in a parallel world, Rose had been so focused on her work with the Dimension Canon, and so sure she would be returning to her proper universe that she had never really put down roots. So they had to buy absolutely everything for the house, which was daunting. Thankfully one of the new quirks he had gotten from Donna was a love for shopping. Unfortunately, he did not get any common sense about what a house needed, and it became clear that this was an activity he was never allowed to do alone (in the end, Rose had had to send back 4 (out of 6) couches, 17 (out of 21) toasters, 3 (out of 5) mixers, various other kitchen gadgets (total number unknown, but now they at least had enough cupboard space for actual food), and a host of giant inflatable Christmas decorations that ‘had been on sale’).

It wasn’t until they had been at their new house for about two months that the issue of their garden came up again. And only because they had received a written warning in the post about their grass being too long.

“Who are they to decide? Isn’t it our garden?” the Doctor complained. “I like our grass! It’s very … grassy. And green! Well, mostly.”

They were standing outside on their front porch, looking at their grassy, mostly green grass. It was pretty tall. And starting to go to seed, reminding Rose of the wheat-like plants on Serin III - those were green, too. They had green bread.

“You’re gonna have to mow it,” she told him, patting his arm apologetically.

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who wanted a big garden.”

“Maybe I also want a big fence. So that nosy city people who get paid to judge my grass can’t see it. That will show them. Or, or, we can get rid of all the grass! Put flowers and trees and things instead. Then see what these people have to say.”

“Or you could mow the grass,” Rose said, before giving him a kiss on the cheek and heading back inside. They had to be in at Torchwood soon and she still wasn’t done getting ready.

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of alien ‘incidents’, way too much paperwork, and the Doctor’s unending attempts to get out of either of them doing work the moment he got bored of it. Once the weekend arrived, she was exhausted and he was adorably and delightfully insistent on making her forget about any and all stress or responsibilities.

Monday morning saw another letter regarding their grass. This time with a deadline, and a fine promised if they didn’t have it taken care of by the end of the week.

“We don’t even have a mower!” the Doctor complained, crumpling up the piece of paper and throwing it across the sitting room.

“We’ll just have to get one. We can go after work. I’ll tell dad that we need to leave early.”

“Mmm I suppose, if it gets us out early,” he conceded, still pouting.

So they left work early and went to the hardware store, where the Doctor made no less than three scenes while complaining about the primitive technology, comparing gardening tools from different times and planets, and attempting to test drive a riding mower in the store (the lack of petrol in the floor model having easily been circumvented with a few applications of his sonic screwdriver). Obviously they ended up buying the one that he tampered with. And of course they were asked never to return.

“It said on the sign that you offer free delivery?” were the Doctor’s parting words before Rose dragged him away from the counter, telling the quietly furious manager that she would send someone to pick it up for them.

“Well that was rude of them,” he began as soon as they got into the car, “I was only trying to-”

“Nope. No. You should know better by now. We’ve been through this. Just … quiet,” Rose sighed. She wasn’t angry, but she didn’t know what exactly she was feeling - some mix of frustration, disappointment, and exhaustion. Despite the fact that he now only had one heart, she never forgot that he was an alien. Usually she loved all of his alien-ness.

Just not so much when it clashed with their attempt at living a very human life. But they wouldn’t be stuck planet-bound forever. In a few years their TARDIS would be ready for flight, and then they would once again have all of time and space at their disposal. A whole new universe to explore.

Rose just didn’t know how they were both going to manage to stay sane until they got that far.

Surprisingly, he followed her instructions and the ride home passed in complete silence. It wasn’t until she pulled into the garage that he spoke, and even then it was a whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

She turned to him, frowning, worried that she was being too hard on him. It really hadn’t been very long since he’d been stranded here with her. No functioning TARDIS, stuck on the slow path in a universe he didn’t belong in and a body that felt foreign to him.

“It’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s not. You were right. I do know better. It’s just- I just- it’s all so linear, all the time! And so stationery! If I’d ridden a mower through a shop before, it wouldn’t have mattered. We’d have ran off, back to the TARDIS, onto the next adventure. But now there’s consequences, and licenses, and passports, and credit cards, and rude letters about our grass! And I did know better, but I did it anyway because, because- what if we get boring, Rose? What if we become the kind of people who just go to work, and watch telly, and eat beans on toast, and trim our grass and that’s all?” he asked, both hands now fisted in his very disheveled hair and a look of pure panic on his face.

“Listen,” Rose said, leaning over the center console to place both of her hands lightly against the side of his head, thumbs rubbing his temples in a way she knew soothed him. “We are never going to be boring, whether or not you vandalize shops. Our job is defending the Earth from alien threats … and sometimes the other way around. And I’m sorry we went to get a mower to begin with. I don’t care. If you want our grass to get as tall as it can, I don’t care. We can just pay the fine. Okay?”

The Doctor’s hands had moved from his hair into hers and then he snogged her to within an inch of her life, stopping only when he kneed the console and hit his head on the roof of the car when he tried to get closer. The windows had all fogged up.

They were awoken the next day with a call from her mum - they had made the tabloids, again. Contrite, the Doctor made her a lovely breakfast but she didn’t have time to eat it after having to spend nearly an hour on the phone with Jackie screeching in her ear.

When lunch came around, Rose felt tired and irritable and hungry but instead of going to the canteen she marched into Pete’s office.

“I need some time off,” she announced, cutting off whatever her dad had been about to say in greeting. “Me and the Doctor both. A vacation. Right away. I’ve got plenty saved up.”

“Does this have something to do with the ‘mower incident’?” he asked, raising both eyebrows and sitting back down behind his desk.

“No. Yes? I don’t know! We just- we need a break.”

Despite the spontaneity of it all, Pete had lunch brought up and they were able to schedule three weeks of vacation time, starting the next day. When Rose went up to the Doctor’s lab to tell him, he was nowhere to be found. The floor’s lab manager said that he had disappeared over an hour ago, no one knew where. This wasn’t exactly new behavior, so she shrugged it off and went to finish up her day of writing up reports. He was waiting for her in the carpark at the end of the day, as usual, a huge grin lighting up his face the moment he saw her.

“Did Pete tell you the news?” she asked, a little disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to be the one to tell him.

“News? What news?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Oh. You seemed so happy, I figured he musta told you.”

“No. No one told me anything. I’m always happy to see you. But what is this news?” he asked, somehow managing to still be nearly bouncing even as they got into the car.

“We’re on vacation. Starting now.”

“What?! Really?! Where are we going? What would you like to do?”

“Hmm … well, we’ve got three weeks. We can go wherever we want. Could be outta the country in a couple hours,” she informed him with a tongue touched grin.

“Rose Tyler, have I told you how absolutely brilliant you are?”

“Hmmm … ‘m not sure,” she teased.

“You are. Absolutely, astonishingly, brilliant. Are we off to the Zeppelin right now?” he asked, looking out the window as if this wasn’t the same route they took every day.

“No, we have to go home first to pack.”

“Ah. Right, wizard! And we can figure out where to first! Europe? Asia? The Americas? Zeppelin travel is so slow, maybe explore parallel Europe this time?”

During the drive home, the Doctor barely stopped for breath. It was the most excited she had seen him since they’d gotten to this universe. He was so happy, it almost made her heart hurt.

When they pulled into the driveway she immediately noticed that the grass had been trimmed … well, part of it, at least. A small bit.

“When’d you do this?” Rose asked, not bothering to pull into the garage.

“Oh! I took a long lunch. What do you think?” he asked, bounding into the garden and only walking in the mowed bits.

“Well, I mean, you missed some,” she laughed.

“No, no, come here.”

He took her hand and led her on a winding and loopy path that went in an arch from one side of their front yard, to their backyard, and then to the other side of the front.

“Well it’s definitely not a maze … does it say something?” she asked once they were back in the driveway.

“You’re right, it does! 10 points to Gryffindor! Perhaps an aerial view is necessary.” Still holding her hand, the Doctor headed inside, no doubt with a plan to get onto the roof.

“Oh, that reminds me, Doctor … this universe does still have Harry Potter, but …” she hesitated as they reached the stairs.

“But what?” he asked, turning toward her with wide eyes.

“The names of the houses are different.”

“What?!” he screeched. “Months! We’ve been here months, and you don’t tell me this until now?! What are they?! No! Don’t tell me. No spoilers. Ohhh I’m going to have to reread everything, aren’t I? Every book. Who knows how many things are different?” The Doctor dropped her hand in order to ruffle his hair, as the other one was still holding onto the rail.

“Did you still want to go to the roof?” she asked, hesitating only a little. He tended to have a flair for the dramatic, but sometimes he was genuinely upset. It was just, occasionally, a little hard to tell which was which.

“Right, yes, roof. Roof, then packing, then books, then vacation,” he listed, taking her hand again and almost running up the stairs. “We can spend a day at the beach somewhere. You love beaches. You can go swimming, and I can start rereading. Or is it just reading?”

Soon enough they managed to get onto the roof from the balcony that came off their bedroom (one of the Doctor’s ‘must haves’ in a house). Looking down, spelled out in the garden in messy cursive was, ‘I love you Rose’.

“Oh,” she breathed, covering her mouth with her hand and fighting the tears that were suddenly gathering in her eyes.

“What do you think?” he asked, after they had both been silent for too long.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, pulling him into a kiss. They wobbled unsteadily for a moment before the Doctor slowly guided them both downward until they were sitting, less in danger of falling.

“I love you, too,” Rose told him, when they finally paused to breathe.

His answering smile was so bright, it put the sun to shame.

They eventually got off of the roof, but it was hours before they left the house. Once they finally boarded a Zeppelin, the Doctor was disappointed to realize they had forgotten to pick up books. And three weeks later, when they got back from Europe, there was a pile of mail right inside their front door - much of which were fines and late fees regarding their grassy, now not-so-green grass.

Rose paid them.

The Doctor built a perception filter.

Letters stopped coming, and it worked so well that not even Jackie ever said a word about how untended it was. The whole thing slipped Rose’s mind in the months that followed, until one evening at sunset the Doctor took her up onto the roof again.

Colors streaked across the sky, and the first couple of stars were beginning to peak out as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

“Those are still there because of you,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling into her neck before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Mmm … I did have a little bit of help,” she said, brushing a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, satisfied when the Doctor sighed against her.

“Just a little?”

“Yeah,” Rose giggled, “from Mickey. Remember him?”

At the Doctors indignant squawk, she fully burst out laughing.

“I had a lot of help from you,” she told him, no longer teasing.

“Thought so,” he muttered, mollified. They were quiet for a few moments before he said, “And now here we are.”

“Yeah.”

“Rose?” he asked, sitting up. Her neck and shoulder were suddenly chilled with the absence of his body heat. When she looked over at him, he seemed nervous.

“What is it?”

“I- well- uhm …” the Doctor floundered for a moment before saying, “What do you think of the garden?”

Incredibly confused, Rose Tyler looked down and was surprised to once again find words trimmed into the grass.

‘Marry me?’

#hey-there-juliet #answered #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #tentoo x rose #dw fic #timepetals #dw fanfiction #prompt fic: aerial view necessary #fandom: doctor who #pairing: rose x doctor #my fic #prompt fic

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shootwinterfest · 4 years

Text

The Story of a Christmas Elf

Shoot Secret Santa Gift by @hackersandhammers

Tree sap was sticky and plain out inconvenient. Sameen Shaw stood in the middle of the store and rubbed her hands on the front of her shirt, swearing under her breath. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and glared at her reflection. One of her coworkers made eye contact through the mirror and promptly made a b-line in the other direction.

She had already made a reputation for herself. Most of the other employees at the toy store knew to stay away.

Her boss, the main store manager knew that she was supposed to be good at her job. Somehow she was recommended as a top decorator and was thought to have the precision of a surgeon when it came to details. That was coming from her references and her impressive portfolio thanks to Root and The Machine. Her actual decorating skills were mediocre at best.

The store needed all hands on deck for Christmas. They just made sure to keep her away from actual customers. They needed her decorating skills, not her personality. That was fine by Shaw.

The store Shaw was working at was highly esteemed and went by the name Toy Castles. It always made it in New York’s top magazines for the holidays. Sometimes, it even made it in some holiday movies. A large part of that was due to the decorations.

The other half was that all the competition went out of business.

Most people didn’t buy toys in stores anymore if you thought about it logically. Online shopping was taking over but if you got creative with your thought process, well, some things didn’t add up. That’s what Root told her anyway. Shaw didn’t really care about the details and she never bothered to ask.

So, here Shaw was, a grown woman dressed as an elf with a hat and pointy ears that she had to glue on every morning. She needed to keep this cover no matter how much she hated it.

Shaw cut out another paper gingerbread man. It stuck to her fingers.

“Shi-”

“Hi, Shaw.” A man interrupted. He joined her and stood by her side, reaching for the second pair of scissors to cut out paper candy canes at the workstation.

“David.” Shaw acknowledged him and kept working. He was the only employee that she could stand. She actually liked working with him and they both respected each other’s space. If only everyone was like that. He reminded her of Reese.

This whole situation could be worse. She could work at the store permanently. She knew she was only going to be here for a few more days. She hoped. That thought was the only thing that made this bearable.

“Hey, how are my two favorite elves?” The front end manager walked in. His elf costume was more elaborate than theirs with a shiny gold tag labeled “Leon” proudly pinned to his chest.

The two of them barely acknowledged him as he came in draping his arms around Sameen’s shoulders and awkwardly attempting to do the same with David but failing because of his height. “Only one week until Christmas!”

It took all the self-control Shaw had to not punch him. Instead, she shot him a warning glare. “Right,” He stopped acting chummy and got the hint.

She couldn’t believe Root got Leon on this mission too. This was the first time she had worked with him and she wished it would be the last. She never wanted to see him again after this.

“What do you want Leon?” Shaw said between her teeth.

“Doors are opening at eight o’clock. We wouldn’t mind you in the back stockroom, Shaw.” He said with a gulp.

“That’s alright with me,” Shaw said.

“Um, one more thing. Santa is going to be here at ten and we need some elves to stand by his side at the North Pole. I was hoping maybe you’d be interested?”

“No.” She wasn’t going to be a babysitter and she wasn’t going to listen to Leon. He definitely wasn’t going to fire her or tell upper management. They were both on this job to find a number, a Dylan Marks who has failed to show up so far. The little details of a retail store weren’t going to get in the way.

“Right, I’ll just get back to work. Uh, David, we need the candy canes hanging over the registers. Can we get you over there before the doors open?” He directed his attention over to her co-worker. Shaw immediately tuned out.

Figuring the conversation was over, she took her gingerbread cutouts from the table, moving to the front of the store.

Toy Castles was impressive, the front windows were fully made from glass, the windows stretching from floor to ceiling. As per tradition, the glass was almost completely covered with Christmas decorations. Shaw put the gingerbread men in the empty spots. She peered through the glass across the street. A coffee shop with equally giant glass windows was directly across.

Root was on the other side.

Shaw lost focus on the gingerbread men. Root had been visiting the same table since Shaw first started working at the toy shop. Every morning had gone the same since then. Sameen would hang up decorations in the front window and Root would gaze across the street at her.

This was irritating, Root didn’t tell her why she needed to work here. She just told her to wait. The days kept on dragging on and Shaw’s patience kept getting shorter.

Today, Root was wearing a dress. Her coat was hanging on the back of her chair and her hands glided expertly across the keys of her keyboard. Shaw had no idea why Root was so dressed up. It was almost Christmas and it was freezing in New York. Not that Shaw was complaining anyway, she didn’t mind the view.

Root looked up at Shaw, she smiled smugly while picking up her drink and biting her straw seductively. Root attempted a wink and failed spectacularly. Shaw looked at her blankly, immediately feeling a bit of irritation and something else that only Root got out of her.

To say Root was annoying was an understatement.

It only took a second for the moment to end. Root’s attention was brought back to her laptop. Shaw watched her get back to work while she finished hanging the gingerbread men. The day was about to start.

“Hey, are you about done over there?” An employee caring keys walked to the front door. She was about to unlock the store.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, finishing getting the last decoration in place.

Families and parents were starting to line up at the door. Not wanting to be in the middle of a Jingle All the Way situation, she finished quickly.

Shaw was starting to learn that parents were the worst demographics of people she ever had to deal with. They’d bite, scratch, and claw their way to get a cheap plastic toy. Shaw wasn’t even allowed to punch them. Fortunately, she’d be spending the day in the stockroom. She made her way towards the back of the store.

The doors to the store opened. Shaw could hear kids and parents in the main building as she went through the first shipments and opened the new boxes with her box cutter. More decoration materials came in last night. Fresh-cut Douglas Fir branches filled the box. The aroma was unmistakable but it always made her sneeze. They were meant to be turned into fresh wreaths. She started to get to work.

The rest of the day was like this. More boxes and more branches turned into misshapen Christmas wreaths. The day was completely uneventful. Shaw clocked out in frustration, her hands sticky with tree sap.

“Only six days left until Christmas.” Lean reminded her again as she walked out of the store.

>>>

That night Sameen scrubbed her hands for an extra five minutes in the shower. It felt as though the tree sap would never come off. She gave up and turned off the water. It was late, she was hungry, and her apartment was welcoming but devoid of food. She’d have to go back out again.

She exited out of her bathroom door in a tank top and boy shorts, towel drying her hair.

“Hi, Sameen,” Root was sitting on her bed with her laptop open.

“Can’t you knock?”

“You were busy so I let myself in.” Root looked up from her work, she lifted up a brown paper bag that was at her side, “Someone told me you didn’t eat.”

“If it doesn’t have extra mustard, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you like,” Root said with a grin.

Root’s double innuendo wasn’t lost on Shaw and she rolled her eyes, taking the bag from Root’s grip. She sat down next to her on the bed, pulling out the sandwich. They had become accustomed to this when Root was in New York. Shaw stopped kicking Root out and Root stopped destroying her locks. Root stole a key instead and Shaw never asked for it back.

“What’s this?” Shaw pointed to Root’s laptop after she pulled back the wrapping to her sandwich. It looked like bank statements.

“I’m working on something with your current employers.” Root scrolled down on her laptop. It looked like the statements went back for several years.

“Why do you have me there? The number I’m after isn’t at that hell.”

“Patience, Sameen. You know holding off always has a great reward.”

“Shut-Up.” Shaw took a large bite of her sandwich. She didn’t press the subject of the number again.

Root continued to work at her side and quickly, Shaw’s sandwich was gone. Taking out a bag of chips, Shaw opened the bag with a rustle and a pop. She tried to make sense of what Root was working on but all she could figure out was what she had first seen. Toy Castles was making a large amount of money but it wasn’t from toys.

“There is another bag of chips in the bag, can you get them out?” Root asked.

“Uh-huh.” Shaw dug in the brown paper bag and pulled out some Cheetos.

They ate their chips in silence as Root worked.

Eventually, Shaw got bored and she pulled back the covers to her side of the bed. She faced her back towards Root and fell asleep. She’d have another long day at the toy shop tomorrow. Hopefully, it would be more interesting than hanging up decorations and making wreaths.

>>>

Four days passed. Nothing happened that was worth noting. It was no surprise that Shaw wanted to strangle someone more than normal. What made it worse was that she was having a particularly bad morning. It might have been because she dropped her bagel on the sidewalk as she walked to the toy shop. The day was already shaping up to be horrible.

Shaw walked into the back to clock in.

“Psst, Shaw,” A voice came from the distance as Shaw clocked in. She knew who that voice belonged to. Leon was hiding behind a potted plant between the vending machine.

“What do you want Leon?” Shaw really didn’t feel like dealing with him.

“I need your help,” His voice sounded shaky.

“You want me to ask David for your lunch money back?” Shaw said sarcastically.

“What?” He looked confused for a moment, “Yes… um, but there is something worse.” He got out from behind the plant and looked both ways down the hall before continuing, “Follow me.”

Shaw had no idea what he was up to but if it was anything to make her day exciting she was up for it. They walked to the break-room and the employee lockers. No one else was in the room. Most of the employees were already out on the sales floor or the back stockroom.

“Leon, what the hell is going on?” She watched him as he stopped at his locker and looked around the room cautiously again.

“Don’t judge okay, it’s not mine,” He said and opened his locker slowly. He pulled out a large paper bag and opened it for Shaw to see.

Several bags of cocaine were inside.

“What the hell?” Shaw looked back up at Leon.

“It’s not mine I swear,” Leon closed the paper bag. He practically threw it back inside his locker and clasped the lock in a hurry.

“Who gave you that?”

“David,” Leon said in a whisper, “He wants me to deliver it to this address on Christmas eve.” Leon handed her a note with an address on it.

“Why do you get all the fun?” Shaw replied as she read the address.

“Fun?” Leon started in a harsh whisper, “This isn’t fun. David said something about proving my loyalty but I don’t want to prove anything. He said if I told anyone he’d kill me.”

“When did this start?”

“When David stole my lunch money the first time… and when Laney stole it the second… and-”

“Okay, I get it. You have gullible written all over you.” Shaw handed Leon back the note with the address, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried!” Leon’s voice raised. He quickly clasped his hand over his mouth.

“Okay, fair. I’m going with you to the address so stop freaking out. Who else is involved in this?”

“Practically everyone at the store,” Leon took a deep breath in.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“Because they’re scared of you!” Leon started to walk away from his locker. He still looked uneasy.

“Okay.” This was understandable. It also made sense where the toy store was getting all its money.

“Okay-okay, I need to get out of here now. Get back on the floor and act as if nothing happened. They’re not going to kill me right? Or am I going to get arrested and sent to jail? I’m too handsome for jail. I’ll be fresh meat, it’ll be a mess! What if I die? I don’t want to die on Christmas,” Leon started rambling.

Shaw walked behind him and let him continue his speech. He needed to get the energy out and she wouldn’t have to listen to him again when she went to the back stockroom.

Her bad mood was starting to lift. Finally, something interesting was happening.

>>>

“You can’t have me going in there alone,” Leon clutched the brown paper bag to his chest. It was the night of Christmas eve and nothing was stirring on the street. A dark and ominous apartment complex loomed over them in a shady part of the city. He was there to deliver the contents of the bag.

“I’m only a call away,” Shaw said as she pointed at her ear. They both had an earpiece so they could communicate with each other.

“But what if it’s a trap?”

“I’ll bust you out of it.”

“You sure?”

“Leon,” She gave him a glare.

“Yeah, sure,” Leon gulped, he hesitated for a moment, “Where is the tall guy and the dog?” He asked, cracking the car door.

“Another number,” Shaw said. Honestly, she would have preferred working on another number herself.

“Oh...” Leon mumbled, “I like working with them better.”

“We can agree on something,” Shaw said under her breath as he exited the car door.

She watched him enter the building and disappear behind the entrance. Shaw didn’t like being on the sidelines but this was the best she could do. She took out her DSLR camera and pointed it at the apartment complex.

Taking several photographs, she really couldn’t get a focus on anything interesting. She had Leon take his phone and leave it recording in the inside pocket of his jacket. Hopefully, he can capture some audio that would be useful to whatever Root was working on. With her camera, Shaw was unable to capture anything of interest.

For now, all Shaw could do was wait.

The car was starting to get cold, he had been in the building for a while. It might have been a mistake sending him alone. He wasn’t trained like her or Reese and he wasn’t even a police officer like Fusco. This might have been a mistake. Shaw picked up the camera and tried zooming in on the windows again.

Bang!

A noise that sounded like a door slamming came from her earpiece.

“Shaw, I think I messed up!” Leon’s voice was heard. It was obvious that he was panicked.

“Where are you?” Shaw was on alert, her adrenaline started kicking in. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“Second floor. Come quick!”

Shaw jumped out of the car and rushed towards the building. She knew what apartment room he was in. Second-floor third room to the right, she rushed up the steps of the apartment building. The door to room 204 was slightly cracked. She drew her USP Compact, slowly entering the apartment with her handgun drawn.

She didn’t know what to expect.

The apartment was completely bare of any furniture or decorations but that’s not what stood out. A tall man was standing in the center of the living room.

“Oh, so you are a snitch.” The man spotted her entering the room.

Shaw couldn’t tell who he was because his face was covered in a ski mask but she recognized his voice and his build.

The man was David.

“Shaw, wait!” Leon was in the corner of the room. His hands were up with his palms up at his sides. David had a gun pointed at him.

“Quiet, snitch!” He yelled at Leon.

“David, I know it’s you.” Shaw got closer to him. She didn’t lower her gun.

“Damnit, I knew you weren’t a decorator,” David said, he kept the gun pointed at Leon.

“Are you working alone?” Shaw asked. The whole situation was tense. Shaw knew that any wrong move would set David off.

“I’m not answering your questions,” David shifted uncomfortably, “If you get any closer, I’ll shoot.”

“Wait!” Leon said, he backed away as far as he could until he hit a wall. “I know you were ordered to do this from mister toy master himself. The guy who owns Toy Castles, right?”

“Shut-up,” David growled at Leon.

“No, I know this is how you start this whole drug thing. You take some easy people off the street, pay them minimum wage in New York but then offer them big money to sell some drugs so they won’t go homeless.” Leon continued.

“I said, shut up!” David was getting even more agitated.

Shaw kept the gun pointed at David. Shaw realized that Leon was an easy mark but he wasn’t a coward. She let him continue without intervening.

“This was the test? You give them the drugs and see if they deliver it back to you? What do you do if they fail, do you kill them?” Leon asked.

“That’s right, this is a test, I guess you’re sharper than you look. I’ve never had this before though,” He pointed at Shaw, “ Didn’t even know you two were friends. Guess, I’m going to have to kill you both.”

“No, wait!” Leon yelled.

Shaw only had time to react, everything after this point was a blur.

Three gunshots went off. With a thud, two bodies hit the floor.

>>>

Tree sap clung to Shaw’s fingers for the last time. She tried to wash it out with shampoo in the shower. It was late, Shaw had another long night that was stretching into the early morning.

It hadn’t been a bad night.

Shaw walked out of her bathroom towel drying her hair. She was in a tank top and boy shorts. The night was almost the same as every other night but this time she didn’t have to worry about going back to the toy shop the next morning.

“Hey stranger, Merry Christmas” Root was sitting on Shaw’s bed. She was messing with Leon’s phone and wearing an ugly sweater and pajama pants.

“Is it Christmas?”

“It’s past midnight, sweetie,” Root smiled, “Ready for a present?”

“I hope you brought food,” Shaw ignored her.

“Don’t worry Sameen, I brought some take-out.”

Shaw grinned, she was starving and Root always seemed to know what she was in the mood for.

“I’ll take that phone back to Leon tomorrow. He won’t even notice it’s gone. He’s too busy poking at his new bruise,” Shaw sat down next to Root. They opened the Chinese takeout and started splitting up the food.

She was glad that Root suggested that Leon should take a bulletproof vest. He hid it under his large winter coat and after the events of the last several hours, she didn’t really hate him. He had earned her respect. In the face of danger, there weren’t many people who would take a bullet. He fared better than David, who would need knee surgery for two busted kneecaps.

“You know you could have just sent the audio file to me as an attachment.”

“So?” Shaw didn’t really care, “Did you get all the information you needed?”

“I think so.” Root picked up a wallet that had belonged to David. She pulled out a driver’s license with the name Dylan Marks. It had David’s picture on it, the photo ID revealing his real name.

“I guess David was the perp,” Shaw shrugged. That was too bad when they were working together, she actually liked him. Although, he was probably trying to keep his head down. It made him less annoying compared to everyone else but he was just trying to not bring attention to himself.

“Too bad it’s over. I’m going to miss you in that elf costume.” Root smiled.

“If you mention me wearing that one more time-” Shaw trailed.

“Yeah?” Root raised her eyebrows.

“I’ll kick your ass,” Shaw stared at Root and angrily stuffed some sweet and sour chicken in her mouth. She wanted to forget that elf costume ever existed.

“Oh, sounds fun.” Root smiled and took a bite of her own orange chicken.

They ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Outside it started to snow. This was one of the better Christmases Shaw could remember having in a long time.

~FIN~

#shoot secret santa #root x shaw

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eldritchsurveys · 3 years

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1056.

5k Survey LXXVIII

4001. How would you rate your sex drive? >> I wouldn’t “rate” it? I don’t keep tabs on it or anything, it comes and goes at will. 4002. You are sitting alone with a stack of videos and a vcr. Of the following which are you most likely to puut on (1 is most, 10 is least) The good the bad and the ugly, - 5 dracula, - 2 slc punk, - 6 twin peaks fire walk with me, - 1 jerry springer too hot for tv, - definitely not in the running singing in the rain, - 7 flash gordon, - not in the running the matrix, - 4 blade runner, - 3 the muppet movie - not in the running 4003. Are you more likely to get or send random instant messages? >> Neither? 4004. If you were writing an ad telling people to come to your town what would you say about it? >> You lost me at “if you were writing an ad”. 4005. What part of your body can you not stand to get an itch on? >> Any part I can’t easily scratch, of course.

4006. How many people do you suppose have stolen that System of a Down album called 'steal this album'? >> I don’t know. 4007. Name a band you like: What are/were this band's roots and influences? >> I don’t know the roots and influences of bands. 4008. would you rather have a poster of john lennon or a cute fuzzy black cat? >> I’m not interested in either of these posters. I’d rather have a bare wall. 4009. make a public service announcement: >> No. 4010. What makes you feel the need to escape? >> My own brain. 4011. You and your signifigant other, crush, interest etc...who is the ernie and who is the bert? >> --- 4012. When was the last time you did something and later asked yourself 'did I do the right thing?'? >> I don’t remember. 4013. What do you find it hard to say goodbye to? >> Er... 4014. What is your fantasy valentine's day like? >> I don’t have a fantasy for Valentine’s Day. 4015. If you had to have a color for a name, what color would it be? >> --- 4016. Should preference be given to minority students during the college admission process? >> You know, I’ve read a lot of arguments for and against affirmative action over the years, and while I see where multiple sides are coming from, I think that the most important thing to me would be people of all backgrounds being given opportunity. And since this country has proven time and time again that when left to its own devices, it will let systems of privilege and oppression stand without contest, there needs to be a check-and-balance system in place. Which, in this case, would be affirmative action. It’s awkward and has its own ramifications, but it provides opportunity where there was none (or hardly any) before, and I think it opens the door for further discussions and adaptations.

4017. Sweet wine, fresh crisp appples, bagles with creme cheese and lox...what is the most incredibly luxurious food? >> I’m not sure. 4018. Is there really anything to fear in communism? >> ???? 4019. Best sesame street character: most annoying sesame street character: >> --- 4020. feast or famine? >> Wh... I mean, which one do you think I’d choose??? 4021. Write a poem right here in five minutes or less: >> No. 4022. Do you stay and help clean up after a party? >> At someone else’s place? No. 4023. Why was the teddy bear named after teddy roosevelt? >> As far as I’m aware, it’s because some guy saw the bears at a World’s Fair or something and bought a bunch of them to use as promotions for Roosevelt’s campaign. If I’m wrong, there’s always your friendly neighbourhood search engine to clear it up for you. 4024. What are you the prince or princess of? >> I am the Red Prince, inheritor of the Tower and doom of the White! Thank you for asking. 4025. Some people think that Christmas should be taken off of public school calanders because it is politically incorrect. What aould you say to this? >> I don’t know what that means, so I would have to ask for clarification about Christmas’ political incorrectness. Personally, I think more holidays should be added, for students of different cultures and religions, and some of the “American civic religion” type holidays like Presidents’ Day and shit should probably be removed. That’d balance it out. 4026. Would you rather go to an exorcism or a step aerobics class? >> First of all, those are completely different events, so it’d depend on what kind of experience I was looking to have. And whether I felt like exercising. Which I usually do not. 4027. Do you believe in spells and curses? >> Do I think that spells and curses work? Sure, somehow. I mean, people do them for a reason... 4028. What tv show does your family watch together? >> --- 4029. What's on your calander this year? >> Dates? 4030. Is anything ruining your life? What? >> No. 4031. How was life meant to be lived? >> --- 4032. What is your usual breakfast? >> A Morningstar veggie burger and chips. 4033. If you had kids, would you worry about what they did online? >> Of course I’d worry. 4034. Will you be maxin and relaxin this weekend? If not, what are your weekend plans? >> It’s Monday, man, I have no idea what’s going to happen next weekend aside from the usual. 4035. Who has the most interesting story to tell: someone who used to fly to asia as a drug trader the ceo of Nike a nyc homeless person a preacher's wife >> I was a homeless person in NYC and I think my stories are plenty interesting. Regardless, I think most (if not all) people have interesting stories to tell, if one is willing to listen. 4036. What do you have a bad feeling about? >> I am not having a bad feeling at this very moment so I would like to keep it that way. 4037. Do you have a lot to say? >> I don’t know. Do I? 4038. If a smallpox vaccine was offered to you, would you take it? >> ??? Don’t we get those as children? I’m confused. 4039. Would you ever work at a kissing booth? how about a dunking booth? >> No. 4040. There is a woman who paints by stripping naked, rolling around in paint and then pressing her body against the canvas. What do you think of her art? >> That’s pretty neat. 4041. Have you ever bought something you saw on tv? >> Like, on an infomercial? No. 4042. Name a relative: that relative dies unexpectedly. On the same day 9/11 happens. You can either bring back your relative or bring back 1/2 the people who dies on 9/11. What do you do? >> --- 4043. Have you gone mental? >> Frequently. 4044. What do you think of jews for jesus? >> I’m not sure what to think, since according to some reports they’re not even Jews, but Christians masquerading as such in order to convert Jews (or undermine the “official” Jewish stance on Christ being a cool dude but not the Messiah). Which is pretty messed up, in my opinion. But if a Jewish person interprets their holy texts in such a way that they wish to adopt Christ as the Messiah, then I’d imagine that’s their business. 4045. Has anyone ever tried to 'save' you? >> Evangelical Christian style? Yeah, plenty of times. Fortunately, I seem to be immune to that particular sort of manipulation. 4046. Quick! picture santa clause in your head... Was he black or white when you pictured him? >> White. All Santa is good Santa and of course as a Black person I’m definitely interested in Black Santa, but almost all of my visual references up until now have been white. 4047. Would you ever buy a black santa clause? >> I mean, duh??? Also, we have a Black angel for our Christmas tree; they’d go together perfectly. 4048. or take your kids to vist a black santa clause? why or why not? >> --- 4049. What do you smell like? >> Right now, I smell like jojoba and lavender and opium oil (and tea tree oil, on my head) because I just showered and moisturised. It’s very nice. 4050. What kind of soup do you eat? >> I don’t usually go for soup. But last night I had chicken and wild rice soup because Sparrow made it for her meal prep this week, and it was pretty damn good.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey #not for reblogging *glare*

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la-bruja-de-la-literatura · 4 years

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Confessions of a Budget Witch

Originally posted by me, in the "Witches & Pagans" Amino.

Let's get this out of the way right now: Being a witch on a tight budget sucks.

Being on a tight budget in general sucks, but this entry is focusing on witches on budgets, and the shadowy, consumerist side of witchcraft and paganism circles. So hold on to your brooms, brujxs, this is going to be a log post.

The Aesthetic/ Instagram Witch

Before anybody throws stones, I have an Instagram account (with this same name). I'm not against the witch aesthetic.

In fact, I think it's great that so many people are passionate enough about art to create these wonderful images. I adore those photos with rose quartz crystal balls and points next to delicate himalayan salt lamps and towering pastel pink candles, and the magnificent bundles of dried roses and lavendar.

Would I want all of those? Goddess, no. Cleaning up all the pouring wax alone would drive me insane, and thinking of all the vacuuming involved with all the dried herbs littering the floor makes me want to take a nap.

And yet, when I close my eyes, I think of some of those images of tall candles littering an altar, of a big crystal ball and tall crystal points. I think of creating big, elaborate crystal grids. I think of a nice stone mortal and pestle I've been wanting to buy for years.

Reality, however, has to hit sometime, and for me it's always when I check my bank account and remember that I barely pay rent with my current salary on most months. I constantly need help with groceries, medical and cellphone expenses. It's gotten better, but I still am not completely financially independent.

That said, I'm fortunate enough to still have some money to buy the things I enjoy, mostly crystals, candles and readings these days. I desperately want to support other witches/spiritual healers, so I carefully look over my finances and put aside some cash for them.

Does this mean I am any less frustrated? No.

In fact, a lot of my anger bubbles up when I read a new spell or witch book with a list of ingredients, always with the note saying like "you can always substitute ingredients, but it won't have the same effect". Which begs the question of why I bother looking up spells in the first place when I usually only have kitchen herbs and my 10-15 crystals (which is quite a lot of pretty rocks as it is). I feel like all these resources ask for the few things I do not have.

Now, I won't say that all sources are like this.

Websites and YouTube channels on minimalistic witchcraft are mostly free, and books like "Light Magic for Dark Times" by Lisa Marie Basille and "Holistic Energy Magic" by Tess Whitehurst, for example, have little to no need to buy a list if ingredients. However, these tend to be the minority in the witchcraft community.

Is that the budget witches fault? Absolutely not. We all have bills to pay and real-world responsibilities. The fact that we still fit this stuff into our lives just shows how much the Craft means to us. Which beings me to my next point...

Finding Affordable and Functional Tools

Western Witchcraft tends to rely heavily on materials and tools to gain results. While many witches guarentee that you "only need yourself" to do magick, the reality is that magick without tools is incredibly difficult and almost impossible for baby witches.

The good news is that stores (in the US, at least) like Five Below and Dollar General are selling some basic stuff like candles, essential oils, crystals and incense at low prices. That said, aside from the candles, glass jars, wooden boxes and incense holders, many of those tools are low-quality. Most of the essential oils I've found at these stores, for example, are perfumed and not real plant-based oils. Tarot decks from places like Wish are usually cheap bootleg imitations that are also low-quality (and also don't support the creators). Another disadvantage is that we aren't supporting the metaphysical community when you buy from these places, which is something I find frustrating. Lastly, I've also noticed that cheap crystals are not not mined ethically, and that is another thing that I personally try to avoid buying cheap if I can.

Now, some common stores, such as pharmacies and grocery stores, are still quite useful to the budget witch. Pharmacies tend to have plant-based and cruelty-free essential oils and diffusers for good prices. Just make sure to research what can harm pets if you have them. Tea tree oil is very toxic to dogs, for example, but lavendar is not. However, lavendar is harmful to cats. Make sure to know what you're using if your pets are around you. Grocery stores are also great places to get cheap dried herbs.

Law of Attraction and The Root Chakra

If you've been reading my post, you'll have noticed that I do not like the Law of Attraction. So we are all clear, I am not against having goals, or following your dreams or passions. I am against the way this system makes the practitioner feel responsible for factors out of their control. (There is a Tumblr post that also explains how the ideology of LOA falls withing the B.I.T.E. model, which is used to identify cult ideology. I'll link it here soon).

I have also become incredibly wary of using chakras, as the popularized system that most witches use today were made-up by a white author.

What bothers me more than any of the aforementioned things is when other practitioners state that those of us in a difficult financial situation are either not working with our root chakras (which focuses on finantial stability, and livliehood) or just aren't using the Law of Attraction well enough. Blaming these kinds of difficulties on budget witches is not only shameful, but it's also usually a marketing tactic used by certain folks to make those of us desperate for money to want to buy their services to "learn how to get rich" or at least financially stable enough to thrive.

If you are interested in using the Western chakras, there are cost-effective ways to work on them, such as using meditation. Again, YouTube is a rich resource for hundreds of free and effective guided meditations on anything from chakras to spirit guides.

Also, let's not forget our good old friend, Practicality. When you get an infection, for example, your priority should the doctor/medical professional first before witchcraft, unless you have a herbal specialist that can create a safe and effective holistic medication (and this person should be, again, a professional). In the same vein, if your are going through a financial rough spot, buying a bunch of root chakra candles or crystals in the hope that your situation will improve is contradictory to what you need to do: save that money. Maybe get one or two inespensive things if you can. If not, use the free resources on hand.

Don't Allow This to Discourage You

As much as many of us claim not to need tools (and I applaud you if you manage with so little, willingly or not), the truth is that most of us like to have things on hand, and I am no exception. Books, candles, crystals, decks and herbs are what I spend my money on. I am aware that there is a materialistic aspect to the way I choose to work. I even have a cauldron and a professionally made wand, despite not being Wiccan and using both for only special occasions. Heck, right now the cauldron is just housing a bled of herbs to cleanse anything I put in it.

That's my choice. I save for some months and then buy little by little. But there are other ways to be an effective budget witch and thrive.

For example, many witches on this site have pointed out that you can make your own tools, such as wands or altar decorations, out of sticks and rocks. Some folks prefer finding their own tools. Just be careful not to pick up anything poisonous, or disturb the nest of any animals that may be around. Also, do NOT eat anything off the ground unless you are 100% sure what it is and that it has been grown in clean soil. Go to the supermarket for edible herbs if you can't find a local market or herb shop. A quick online search will help with that, and you'll be acquainted with your environment.

Tea is also another wonderful resource for the budget witch. It is easy to find, usually under $5 a box (in the USA) and good for you. Again, it's still wise to be careful when trying new herbs, but I find most tea companies will stick to fruits amd common herbs like chamomile and peppermint, to name a few. Honey pairs well with tea, great for magick, and also very accessible. You can also open tea bags for a spell, or invest in loose herb mixes and a strainer. Try buying a teapot if possible. If not, boil your water in a pot over the stove, microwaved tea isn't as good. Trust me.

Tips & Tricks

🖤Crystals are just as effective if they are small or pocket-sized, and usually a lot cheaper that way. There is the bonus perk of being able to carry them with you on the go in your bag or pockets.

🖤Use non-magickal sources as well a magickal ones to identify herbs and crystals so you can be sure they won't harm you. Crystals can also be toxic.

🖤Some people (myself included) believe normal rocks to be just as powerful as crystals. You can even try painting them the color you want to manifest, or you can put sigils on them.

🖤There are free digital tarot apps that are great for readings and having a deck with you wherever you go. The Labyrinthos and Kawaii Tarot apps are the ones I currently use.

🖤Plastic flowers and fruit can be cost-effective decor for your altar, and maybe even an offering or representation of your deity(ies) if you have any.

🖤Epsom salts are relatively cheap, and adding your own essential oils to them in a tub or foot bath is a great spa day remedy and good for metaphysical and physical cleansing. Just make sure they are real essential oils, and look up the correct dosage.

🖤White vinegar is also affordable, and efficient glass, counter-top and carpet cleaner. It also has protective properties along with salt, and it's great for cleaning your altar, if you can stand the smell.

Some Resources:

My Go-To Etsy Stores for Ethical and Affordable Crystal Buying: (I am not a sponsor for these stores, nor am I being paid to advertise them).

The Spiritnectar

Moonrise Crystal

Ethically-Sourced & Affordable Crystals. My order came with a tea bag as well!

Crystal LionGems

Budget Witch Videos:

The Witch of Wonderlust on Low-Budget Witchcraft

Magickians Budget Witch Guide

Cheap Places to Get Books that Aren't Amazon:

Thriftbooks

BookOutlet

Or rent books at your local library! You can also make requests if they don't have what you're looking for.

That's all for now, brujxs. Please tell me your thoughts, and how you handle being a budget witch. Stay safe, witchy and freaky. 💜

#witchblr #witchcraft #bruja #tarot #witch #divination #witch blog #witches of tumblr #brujas de tumblr #budget witch #budget witchcraft

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tylercherry81 · 4 years

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Is it accurate to say that you are Planning To Buy Plants For Your Garden?

The excellence of a flourishing nursery loaded with superb plants and trees can scarcely be portrayed in words. It requires some investment and endeavors to make a 'picture-great' garden. In any case, if you purchase the right plants and plan the scene proficiently then the undertaking can without much of a stretch be practiced.

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There are endless nurseries and nursery focuses that give a wide range of plants and trees for finishing purposes. The vast majority of them are mail request nurseries and they give the simplicity of setting orders online. Regardless of whether you decide on visiting the nursery community by and by to buy plants or get them online; there are sure things that you ought to consider.

Reason - If you are an energetic nursery worker and cultivating is your obsession then you can develop pretty much whatever suits the scene. Be that as it may, if you are pointing towards a specific kind of nursery then you should pick the plants as needs be. Spice Garden, Wildflower Garden, Rock Garden and Bog Garden are a portion of the nurseries that require specific plant assortments.

Light, Water and Soil Requirements - Most of the plants incline toward very much depleted and great quality soil. Be that as it may; a wide range of assortments have specific necessities. Some flourish well in shade and some well in full daylight. You should think about every one of these perspectives before purchasing plants. The area of your nursery can be an integral factor and it is recommended that you study the zone and plan out planting beds before buying anything. If a portion of the territories in your nursery are concealed then you can consider developing shade cherishing plants to utilize the space. Then again, if you have waste issues then you can go in for plants that wouldn't fret wet or clammy soil.

Plant Hardiness Zone - Local climatic conditions likewise play a critical job in the development and advancement of plants. Tropical plants perform best in warm, sticky and tropical atmospheres while; high plants incline toward dry and low temperatures for development. Check the plant solidness zone for your territory and purchase plants that can change in accordance with the climatic conditions.

Accessibility - If you are intending to re-structure the whole nursery then it is ideal to buy from a wholesale producer that can give all of you sorts of plants and trees. Along these lines you won't need to experience the problem of visiting a few different nurseries looking for specific plant assortments.

Price - Total cost engaged with finishing the whole nursery is commonly quite high. Huge numbers of us don't understand this and we end up going overboard significantly more than what we had anticipated. It is consistently astute to set up a finishing spending plan. To set aside cash you can carry out certain responsibilities all alone rather employing somebody. Purchase plants from a wholesale nursery as they ensure best quality plants at reasonable rates. You can end up sparing significantly more if you pick a wholesale cultivator over a retail nursery.

Trees-Plants Nursery is a certified wholesale cultivator situated in Mcminnville, Tennessee that gives a wide range of local plants, bushes, greeneries and trees. It has practical experience in Bare Root Stock and Balled and Burlapped Trees. There are various different assortments accessible to suit all your finishing needs.

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toilettower7-blog · 4 years

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Tree Care And Your Lawn - How To Make Your Trees And Lawn Coexist

After deciding on the best tree for the bonsai garden, get some pots, soil and other planting materials and get to work. A skill arborist is particularly important for working on a tree that has large branches spanning over your house.

When а house іѕ rеallу old, sometimes іt hаs overgrown trees that аrе difficult to deal with and "crowd out" the house. If this іs thе case, уou сan gеt thе tree/s removed. There are https://yeucayxanh.vn/danh-muc/cay-canh-van-phong who dо thіs kind of work аnd thеy hаve bеen trained to quickly - and safely remove trees. However, bеfоre уou hire a company for thіs job, make ѕure thаt you dо a thorough investigation іnto thеir past work - this wіll hеlp you to know whеther thеy аre professional outfit or not.

A high quality tree can lаst аs muсh аs а decade, ѕоmеtimеs more. trees оften cоmе wіth warranties too. The warranties for thе tree аre usuallу mоre extensive than those for thе lighting. If уou wеre to add uр hоw muсh іt costs to gеt аn artificial tree versus a real one, уou will find that you end uр saving а lot of money over the years.

Thornless locust. Common locust іѕ widely uѕеd in restoration аnd erosion control projects. Newer varieties, ѕuch as the Shademaster аnd Sunburst locust, are thornless and fast growing, making them popular fоr landscaping projects. They are аlsо а popular instant shade tree, growing tо а mature height оf аbоut 25 to 30 feet іn јust ѕix years. The small leaves break dоwn quickly аftеr thеy hаvе fallen, and require nо raking.

Depending on y giá cây kim ngân lượng ;ur ѕpecіfiеd purpose, yоu cаn choose from a wide variety оf olives. There are trees that dо nоt bear fruits and these аre the beѕt trees to plant if yоur intention iѕ to add olives to decorate your garden. You can alѕo make your selection form olive types depending оn thе taste іf your purpose is tо produce olive oil аnd dо business with it. Below уou will sеe thе top fivе оr moѕt popular types оf olive trees or varieties.

Know whаt to loоk fоr with yоur trees. Unhealthy trees arе easy to identify and then action cаn bе tаkеn immediately to either hаvе them pruned оr removed.

First оf all, уоu cаn find thеѕе trees at specialty online gardening retailers. Be surе to buy from а trusted, recommended source bесаuѕе уоu want tо gеt a tree that іѕ healthy аnd established. Your tree will be shipped to you іn a container that ѕhоuld be suitable fоr ѕeveral years.

Let's start at the beginning wіth thе small (barely 4" tall) dwarf banana trees I received in the mail. Through a mix uр when ordering, I ended up with eіght dwarf banana trees (yes you read thаt rіght I saіd "eight"). The instructions thаt camе wіth thеm werе extremely basic and aѕ I soоn found out, dіd NOT cover anу contingencies othеr thаn perfectly healthy specimens.

Trees improve thе quality оf air by mitigating air pollution. Trees uѕе photosynthesis to convert carbon dioxide tо nutrients. The leaves of thе trees сan clean the air thrоugh removing dust and оther particles.

The rose tree iѕ still а plant and still needѕ to bе pruned. Pruning thesе trees wіll hеlр them to stay healthy аnd strong. There arе generally ѕеverаl types оf rose trees that аre relatіvеlу nеw comers. The "Double Decker" іs thе most popular of thе nеw comers. It iѕ called thе double Decker bесome іt produces twо layers оf flowers. The fіrst layer iѕ on the top оf thе tree whіlе the sеcоnd layer іѕ almost to the ground. Another nеw recruit tо add to the Double Decker family іs the Yellow Ribbon Double Decker. This tree іs a well-known timeless beauty.

When it cоmеs tо varieties, thеre аre a number оf dіfferеnt trees to select from. A fеw аre simpler tо оwn than others. Persimmon trees аnd plum trees аre great examples. They саn be grown anуwhеre with аlmоst no maintenance necessary. They are knоwn fоr bearing a great number оf fruits. Apple trees can also do well іn most climates. They mаy tаke а lіttle more work tо fight оff bark disease but аre relаtіvеlу easy tо grow.

Pomegranates make lovely decorations during the holidays. The rosy hue оf thе skin fits rіght in. Check đặt cây lưỡi hổ trong phòng ngủ for blemishes оr soft spots fоr fruit thаt will stay unspoiled fоr aѕ long аѕ twо weeks uр to ten days. Cut thе fruit in half tо expose thе bright juice sacs. The halves wіll dry naturally inside the house. Juice thе pomegranates usіng a juicer made for oranges. Sprinkle the juice sacs ovеr salads, cereals and desserts.

If you are unsure if the water supply is really reaching the roots, try to dig about a foot down using a trowel. In addition to that, other people from our neighborhood can benefit from it as well. Bonsai trees for sale can look wonderful in homes.

#tree service austin #make excellent trees

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cozykhaos · 5 years

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A New Sun. Part 3

I forgot what a drill Sargent my father could be, falling back into his military roots we had the truck unpacked quickly, boxes and desk inside and back out to start the hard part. Clearing the land. He had decided it would be best to start on getting the branches first. We started hauling back the larger branches, each of us taking an end then doubling back to the pile. By 5 o’clock we had most of the branches cleared away, but that still left the saplings and the trees that still dotted the property. I sighed as I sank on to the porch, it creaked under my weight.

“Not bad for the first day!” Dad said as he brushed his hands off on his now dirty jeans. “I wish I would have brought a chainsaw though.”

“Everything hurts,” I groaned.

“Getting all soft from sitting at a desk all day!” Dad barked out a laugh. He pulled me to my feet, I stumbled before he steadied me. “Where can we get some dinner?”

“Stardrop Saloon is in town square,” I nodded towards the dirt road.

“Come on!” Dad started to march in that direction.

“Shouldn’t we clean up first?” I looked down at my clothes that were coated in mud, my arms were dirty and covered in scratches. My hands were swollen covered in ant bites from a nest of ants I had disturbed in one of the branches.

“Nah, we smell like victory!” My dad called over his shoulder, then licked his arm. “And taste like success!”

The bell over the door rang as we entered, alerting all to our arrival. All meaning the 6 people in the bar. Including Lewis who waved us from his table, woman who I didn’t recognize with a mane of rusty curls sat across from him.

We made our way to the bar and popped up onto a bar stool. A man with an impressive handle bar mustache, warm honey eyes greeted us. “Welcome to the Stardrop Saloon, I’m Gus, what can I get you guys?”

My dad scanned the menu quickly. “Want a pizza?”

“Sounds good,” I mumbled through a yawn.

“Pizza then! With sausage, pineapple and onions,” my dad rattled off. My arm was propped up on the bar, chin resting in my open palm. Gus jotted down the order, then looked back up. “Too drink?”

“Oh, I’ll have a beer!” Dad clapped his hands together, earning a glare from a guy on the far side of the bar.

“I’ll have a soda,” I added.

Gus sighed. “Joja cola okay?”

“Ew, no never mind,” the corner of Gus’ lips turned up slightly as I glanced over the menus drink section. “Tea is fine.” Gus nodded and started on our order.

“Tomorrow we should work on getting those trees chopped down,” dad mused.

“Uh-huh.”

“The ponds both seem to be in good condition, so that’s a plus.”

“Yup.”

“I noticed there are a few larger stones in the field. Do you think we could call Robin tomorrow, she might be interested in all that material.”

“She might be,” I let out another long yawn. Gus returned with our drinks, a girl with blue hair next to him.

“You look really familiar,” she said studying me, Gus nodded in agreement.

“That’s Harold’s granddaughter!” Lewis chimed in from his table. I turned around just as the woman from across him smacked his shoulder. Poor guy was always being hit.

“Lewis!” She hissed. “If you are going to eaves drop don’t make it so obvious!”

Lewis rubbed his shoulder in a mock pout.

“Kit!” The blue haired girl rounded the bar in a matter of seconds before throwing her arms around my neck. I hugged her back, going through my mental files trying to think of a name. “It’s so good to see you again, what are you doing here?” She sat on the barstool next to me. I took a long sip of my drink as I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. I wasn’t getting any clues, damn you for betraying me brain.

“I’m sorry, I don’t rem-“

“-It’s me! Emily!”

“Emily! Oh my god, I love your hair!” I threw my arms around her neck again, both of us rocking sideways in our chair in a little dance. “I colored it blue to piss off Hayley,” she snorted.

“It looks good on you, it really brings out your eyes!” A barrage of coughing sounded behind me, turning the man at the far end of the bar held up to fingers. “I’m cashing out Gus.”

“I’ll add it to your tab Shane. I’ll cash you out Friday,” Gus nodded to the dark-haired man. Shane nodded before holding up a hand then stumbled his way out.

Emily frowned after him, before turning back to me, dark blue eyes lighting back up. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I am taking over the farm.”

“No.”

“Yup!” My dad said with a huge grin on his face. “I’m James by the way, Kit’s dad.”

“Nice to meet you!” She beamed at him. I turned in my stool to grab a slice, my mouth starting to water as I pulled the piece free, cheese clinging to the other slices.

“I think dad is waaaay more excited than I am,” I said as a pizza was placed in front of us.

“I’m just proud of you is all,” he said with a smile.

It was 8 o’clock when we left Stardrop Saloon, the sky was just turning a peacock blue, the stars barely lighting the night sky. In the distance I could hear the waves washing on the shore, slowly, rhythmically. I let out slow, deep yawn and rolled my already aching shoulders. “Going to sleep well tonight,” my dad murmured next to me.

“Oh yeah.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence, both of us stopping on the front porch of the farm house. We admired our work for the day, we had cleaned out a good perimeter around the farm and had decided that tomorrow I’d go into town and buy seeds.

“You’ve done good Sunshine,” dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I laid my head on his shoulder.

“You could of, but it would have been much harder!” Dad grinned, his smile reaching ear to ear. “Let’s get some shut eye.”

We took turns in the bathroom getting ready. I had given dad the bed and I rolled out my old sleeping bag, the same one I’d slept in all those years ago coming to the farm. I had found a place for my desk, to the left of the room pushed up against the wall. I hadn’t unpacked anything except for my computer, I’d have to find an internet provider that would come all the way out here and drop off a modem. I added it near the bottom of my to-do list. I snuggled down into the sleeping bag, thoughts trailing off, flickering over to Sebastian, Robin’s son. He was always playing online games, he’d know who to call.

My eyes snapped open suddenly, something was off. I wiggled out of my sleeping bag and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Standing, I listened, senses straining in the darkness. I glanced at my dad who was still fast asleep. Padding over to my desk I checked my phone, it was just after 3am. Darkness pressed in on me, the hairs on the back of my neck raising. I spun, eyes darting around the small cabin. I switched the flashlight from my cellphone on, nothing. I strained my ears, trying to catch the slightest bit of sound to catch if something was off. Again, nothing.

Then I realized what was wrong, the silence, I hadn’t heard the world this quite in a long time. Tip toeing, I went outside and sat on the front steps of the porch. Outside I could hear the crickets chirping, cicadas singing their nightly symphony. I never even opened my window in the city, the sound overwhelming. Sirens, horns, tires squealing on the asphalt, the freeway so near the traffic sounded like rain. Here it was a growing crescendo of the insect’s music. I stared into the night, the moon was full, and I could see the acres of broken farmland stretch out in front of me.

I would fix this.

I stood and turned to go inside, as my hand grasped the doorknob, I heard a chirp, light and musical. I turned, at the step there was a creature, the size of an apple, to color of cobalt. Its little arms waving at me. I cocked my head as it chirped at me again, bouncing in place. I stepped towards it, but the creature vanished.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine!” My father’s booming voice jolted me awake. I stared up at him with wide eyes as he stretched. “What time is it?” I croaked out, voice broken with sleep.

“Six a.m. the power hour!” Dad started doing squats. I rolled over. “I don’t think so!” He grabbed the end up my sleeping bag and began shaking me out of it, I tumbled onto the floor in a lump. Groaning, I righted myself and rubbed my eyes. My muscles were screaming at every movement. “There is some orange juice on the counter with ibuprofen. Get ready, I’ll meet you out front.”

I watched as he went outside, then flopped back onto the hardwood floors. Something in my back spasmed and I let out another groan. Dad poke his head back in. “Desk jockey, lets get moving!” I raised my middle finger in response, but the door was already closed again. It took a hot minute, but I eventually did my Undertaker impression again and rose.

By the time I made it outside dad had already began to pull the saplings out of the ground.

“Are you heading into town to get those seeds?” Dad asked as I approached.

“Yup, just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

“Get some money out of my wallet and get some groceries,” he replied.

“Dad- “ he cut me off.

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “You are doing a huge thing here and I’ll be a few hours away. I want to be able to help you.”

I frowned and glared up at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Wallet is on the bed. On your way back stop by Robin’s see if she wants any of this stuff.”

Less than ten minutes later I was inside Pierre’s General Store, browsing the shelves. He had greeted me from his counter when I walked in, the little bell jingling. I picked up a few groceries, placing them in my hand basket, adding sun screen as a passed by. My shoulders and neck were already pink from the work yesterday, I couldn’t imagine what I would like by tomorrow.

“Finding everything okay?” He pipped up as I paused in an aisle.

“Yeah, trying to remember if I have coffee,” I said, picking up a bag.

“I have coffee beans for sell,” he grinned.

I glanced up at him from over the aisle, did people already know that I was here?

“Hey dad, I’m going to head out t-“ the girl stopped as she noticed me, it was only a second before a squeal erupted from her little body. I placed the basket down not a moment too soon, Abigale threw herself at me just a moment later. “Kit!” She hugged my neck tight as she rocked us back and forth.

“Hey Abbey,” I smiled as I hugged her back. Part of me had been dreading this reunion, terrified that my friend would reject me from being absent for so long.

“I’ve missed you!” she held me at arm’s length and looked me over. She hadn’t changed at all, except her hair now longer and fell to the middle of her back.

“I’ve missed you too!”

“I can’t believe you are taking over the farm, it has been empty for so long.”

“Oh, so you are Harold’s granddaughter, I thought you looked familiar,” Pierre said from his spot at the counter. Abigail looked over at her father, a look of annoyance passing through her face before she turned back to me. “Sam, Sebastian and I were going to stop by today. To surprise you!”

“Honey, that probably isn’t a good idea. Like you said the farm has been empty, she is probably very busy,” Pierre was now opening a box, placing the items out on the counter. Seeds. Abigail sighed, looking at me she rolled her eyes and mouthed a “sorry”.

“You can come by any time. We are still cleaning up, but feel free to drop by.” I said, picking up my basket. My back, arms and legs screamed in protest. “I’m actually about to head to Robin’s after this. See if she wants any of the material from the farm.”

“I’m going to warn you now, she will probably kiss you,” Abigail winked at me.

Abigail wasn’t wrong, when I asked Robin if she would like to stop by later to pick up anything she wanted, the woman leaped over the counter and kissed me square on the lips before giving me a back-cracking hug. Her husband Demetrius came out of his lab to the right of work shop, safety goggles and gloves still on. “What’s all the noise about?” He asked, his tone light and amused.

“Kit invited me to the farm to pick out material,” Robin beamed. Demetrius’s gaze fell on me and a small smile spread. “Haven’t seen you in a while! Heard you took over the farm.”

“Yes sir,” I nodded, the conversation already growing old and I wondered how many times it would be repeated.

“Hard work,” Demetrius spoke.

“Yes sir,” I repeated, unsure of how to reply to his comment. On that, he turned and went back into the lab. Robin shook her head and looked back at me. “Sebby will be disappointed he missed you.”

“I ran into Abigail at Pierre’s, she said they would stop by later.”

“I’ll probably bring him along with me. Make him do some heavy lifting,” she smirked at me. A blush rose onto my face, I cleared my throat and tried to smile.

“I b-b-better get back, d-dad’s expecting me,” I stuttered over my words as the blush spread, I made my way quickly to the door.

“We will see you later dear!” Robin sang after me.

I took the mountain path home, grateful for the silence and for the time alone. My crush on Sebastian had been obvious as a teenager, that was to everyone but him. Smitten was the word that Robin had used years ago. Then clueless to describe her son. ‘Sebby is one of the smartest people I know. But you could smack him in the face with a snowball and he would ask if it was snowing.’

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck attempting to relieve the headache that was brewing.

I paused when I got onto the farm. Dad had been busy. The trees around the farm house were now on the ground, the stumps dug up. I stared gaping at the work he had managed to accomplish in the couple of hours I had been gone.

“Welcome back Sunshine!” Dad waved from his spot, he had a shovel buried under another stump.

“What drugs did you take to get all this done?” I glanced at the fallen trees.

“I’ll never tell,” he smiled then nodded at my grocery bag. “Anything good?”

“Cauliflower,” I wiggled my eyebrows at dad as he made a face. “Parsnips,” another look of disgust. “Potatoes and green beans.”

“Potatoes come from seeds?” Dad raised his eyebrows.

“Sure do.”

“That’s news to me.”

“How do you think they grew, Potato Gnomes?”

“Maybe!” He threw his arms up the air. “The Potato Gnomes come at night and drop off their bounty!”

I shook my head as I laughed. “Well, this Potato Gnome is going to go plant her seeds. Then I’ll come help.”

“Sounds good!”

Mayor Lewis had left my grandfather’s old tools in the house, inside of a wooden chest. I ran my fingers along the fine polished wood, these were the tools I had first used to learn how to farm. I gripped the handle of the hoe tightly and set to work. It was like riding a bicycle, almost. Falling into the movements, tilling the dirt, planting, watering. Soon I little rows that I could walk between to water. Twenty well groomed spots of earth. I looked around, grabbing up the abandoned stones and placing them around my little garden in a make shift fence.

“Looking good!” Dad came up and handed me a bottle of water. He dripped with sweat and it was now late afternoon.

“I can’t say the same about you,” scrunching up my nose at him.

“Rude,” he let out a breathy laugh. We both took a long drink of water and looked around the property. The difference was night and day, there was still a lot of work to do, but for now there was a large clearing around the house. I could get to the mountain path and to the spring next to the house with ease. The other pond that lay beyond and the forest path still needed to be cleared.

‘Even if I can just clear out the weeds that would be okay,’ I thought to myself. Suddenly I felt very overwhelmed. There was so much to do. How long would all this take. Weeks? Months? A year? And how much money would it take? I had some saved up. Could I really survive off farming?

The sound of an engine cut off the rest of my thoughts. I looked up to see Robin’s blue pick up rolling from the mountain path, she pulled up beside the first tree and cut the engine.

“Look at this place!” She jumped out of the cab, we made our way over to here. “You guys do some fast work!”

“Yeah it looks good,” Sebastian said coming around the other side of the truck. Tha-thump. He’s taller now, black hair cut close to the side of his head and the top longer. “Hey Kit!” He smiled at me. Tha-thump.

“Hey Bash,” I smile back at him, using his nickname. The smile grew. Tha-thump. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of cargo shorts, what he always wore when his mom would recruit him. His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me into a hug. “Welcome back,” he breathed into my ear. Tha-thumptha-thumptha-thump. Fuck.

A title! Wooohoooo! This chapter has a very small amount of Sebastian, and so does the next one... maybe the one after that as well. BUT I PROMISE THERE IS MORE COMING UP! I just don’t want to rush things. So hang on!

#stardew valley #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew blogging #stardew valley sebastian fan fic #stardew valley farmer #farmerxsebastian #A New Sun

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