#also look at my sweet baby monstera back there!

[corpsecoochie]

🪴🖤

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 67: Winter Star

THURSDAY - WINTER 25

“Rise and shine, Alexander, it’s Winter Star!” 

Achilles could’ve been banging pots and pans, and the aforementioned Alexander still likely would’ve only rolled over with a snore if the former hadn’t also jabbed him hard in forehead. In between a sputter and a yawn, Alex managed to murmur, “Is it Winter Star already?”

“Mmhm.” Achilles took advantage of Alex’s wide-reaching stretch to duck under his arms and lay himself underneath. “And look, it’s snowing, baby—well, I guess you can’t look, the curtains are closed…”

 Alex yawned again. “Never expected you to get excited over snow…” He gently swatted Voltaire, who had also joined the party, aside and pulled up the bed covers. 

“Oh, I still hate it, but it’s not too bad, and I’ve always wanted a White Winter Star. In Monstera, our Winter Stars are usually dry and… vaguely tannish.” 

“Yup, yup, makes sense…” Another yawn. “Geez, you’re already dressed?” Still bleary-eyed, Alex had pawed at Achilles’ chest only to encounter the soft knit of a wool sweater.

“It’s 9am.”

“Oh heck, seriously? Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

“Because it’s Winter Star! It’s your day off, you deserve to sleep in! Don’t worry, I made breakfast!” 

“I’ve never seen you so excited for a festival…” Yet another yawn. Clearly Alex hadn’t slept well—dark dreams, perhaps?—but his assessment was nevertheless fair. Winter Star had always been Achilles’ favorite holiday 

Back in Monstera, his parents had thrown a lavish, annual Winter Star party. It’d always been the talk of the town; there was live music and festive costumes and the most delicious food—roast beef and sweet potatoes and deviled eggs and lamb; the list went on and on. 

And Perry and Apolline had always made sure to order Achilles’ favorite—a chocolate cranberry pavlova. Oh, just thinking about it now made his mouth water… as Alex knew, he wasn’t usually a chocolate person, but the pastry chef for the Robinsons’ go-to caterer could not be beat. The pavlovas from the bakeries in Hyacinthia had never been the same, but Gus had promised him he’d do his best… 

Alex, however, clearly did not seem to share his enthusiasm for the holiday.

The two had been grabbing a drink with Emily and Haley the night before, and when they had left the saloon, Pelican Town was in the midst of its transformation for the festival. Multiple red carpets had been rolled out in the square encircling the massive Tree of the Winter Star. 

It had to have been nearly 50 feet tall, a real hefty pine tree Lewis had made sure to inform them had been sourced “right from our neighboring community in Sunspray!” And they had left the Stardrop just in time to see Willy flick on the lights, tiny silver bulbs illuminating baubles of gold and blue and red. And at the very top—a star that shimmered like a jewel under the moonlight. 

Privately, Achilles thought his parents’ tree was prettier, but even so, he had marveled at the towering sight. To his surprise, however, Alex had only made an uncharacteristic little “Hmph,” and hadn’t stopped to give it more than a second’s glance as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms. 

He could have chalked it up to familiarity—after all, Alex had lived in Stardew for nearly 13 years now, the tree wasn’t anything new to him—but in the carols Willy had begun to bellow, Achilles was reminded of Spirit’s Eve, and the memory to which he had borne witness.  

I think this was the first time I realized my dad wasn’t a good man. 

Even now, there was a heaviness to the way Alex was holding the glass of water Achilles had brought him. But perhaps he could help Alex create some new memories for the holiday.

God, you’re giving yourself too much credit, you narcissist… 

But Winter Star had always been only the most joyous of affairs in the Desrosiers-Robinson household. The parties were fun, but what Achilles had always loved most about Winter Star was the time with loved ones. Cheesy, but true. He had numerous fond memories celebrating with his family— holiday sweaters, the traditional breakfast of gingerbread muffins and peppermint hot chocolate, and then the presents! It was always a full day, packed to the brim with activities, and though there was no party here (perhaps he’d throw one of his own next year), he wasn’t planning on slowing down just because he was in Stardew. 

Achilles scurried up from the bed to draw back the curtains and welcome in the white shaft of sunlight that broke immediately through the blinds. It cut through the room like a knife, illuminating one half of Alex’s face and setting the bit of gold in his emerald eyes aglow. And even with Alex frowning and squinting hard into the glare of the glass in his hand, Achilles couldn’t help but stare. 

With his nose scrunched, Alex tossed Achilles a perturbed look as he scooted himself up against the headboard. “What are you looking at me like that for?” 

“Come on, you should know that anytime I’m looking at you, I’m admiring that overwhelmingly beautiful face of yours, my beautiful, beautiful boy.” 

Alex cleared the phlegm from his throat and rubbed the sand from his eyes. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I mean just look at that nose. Your favorite part of your face!” 

“That is true, it is my favorite—oh, okay—you’re in a—extra good mood—”

Achilles had hopped gently back onto the bed—he was straddling him now, holding his face in both his hands before leaning forward to kiss the aforementioned nose. He had taken their conversation two nights previously to heart. It had hurt to learn Alex had been anxious, but Achilles was determined to make it up to him now. Alex had been right—Achilles wasn’t naturally a touchy person, but he’d promised himself he’d be more considerate now for Alex’s sake. 

“Do you want to know what my favorite part of your face is?”

Alex drummed his fingers along Achilles’ thighs and fought back another yawn. “Just dying to know.” 

“All of it.” 

“Ha ha, Ash.” Alex rolled his eyes, but the morning’s melancholy seemed to be melting slowly away under Achilles’ touch, for he was now smiling as he slid a hand under the back of Achilles’ sweater. “Real, uh, diplomatic an answer.” 

“See, I’m sure everybody else says your eyes, but since I’m just so incredibly unique and quirky, I decided I’d—” But he cut his rambling joke short after witnessing the wince that had flashed across Alex’s face for just a fraction of a second. “What, you don’t like your eyes?” 

“No, no…” Alex gave his head a little shake, ran a hand though his bed head.“I dunno. I just wish they weren’t my dad’s.” 

Oh. 

“Hmm. Let me get a better look.” Achilles had, of course, committed the whole spectrum of those iris’ shades to memory quite a long while ago, but he took his time as he cupped Alex’s chin and studied him closely with a sideways tilt of his head before concluding his examination with a smart pat on the shoulder. “Hmm. I say, Master Mullner, I’m no artist, but yours are quite different a shade. Much warmer—an earthier tint, if you will. Sure, they’re both green, but you wouldn’t call an avocado peel the same color as a lima bean, now would you? Leah would be outraged.” 

Then, he kissed him once atop each eyelid as Alex laughed. Achilles was being silly, that was obvious enough, but even so… 

“Thank you,” Alex murmured, burrowing his head under Achilles’ chin and hugging him close.

They sat like this for a minute or two. Under the sunlight, in the silence. Achilles could feel his breath, warm against his chest, slow and soft—in fact, he wondered whether Alex had fallen back asleep, until his voice rang out, small and slightly muffled against his sweater, 

“What are we, Ash?” 

Oh no. 

“Hmm?” 

Achilles had, of course, heard him the first time, but he was choosing to buy himself a minute or two to formulate his response. 

“I just… I mean, I guess I understand if you feel it’s too early to have this conversation, it’s just that after Tuesday, I guess, I was just wondering… I don’t know. It’s been a few weeks, now. What are we?” 

This is so unfair. 

Achilles leaned back to better facilitate eye contact and almost immediately regretted it; those puppy-dog eyes—it was too much. “Well, what do you want us to be?” 

“I asked you the question first.” 

“You actually asked a different question, technically—”

“Achilles…” 

Your nose is twitching. Your nose is twitching! Drag it out, at least until you can get to the kitchen—

“We’re dating. Do you want more?” 

Alex bit his lip. “Do you want more?” 

“I asked you the question first.” 

“Okay, okay, okay—”

Just kidding, don’t drag it out, can’t you see how stressed he is! Ugh, forget about it. Just do it. 

Achilles sat backwards onto the heels of his feet and pinched his nose. “I had a whole thing planned out, you know. For Saturday. A beautiful bouquet of flowers, a nice speech, a wonderfully romantic walk along the boardwalk. It was going to be a whole thing, but I guess you’ll never see it now.” He sighed and tapped Alex’s forehead. “I want you to be my boyfriend, Alexander Joshua Mullner. How about that? Would you like to be my boyfriend, hmm?”

It was clearly not the response Alex had expected from the rate Achilles’ nose had been twitching—his lips parted in an ‘o,’ and it was several seconds before he managed to say, “Um. Oh. Yeah. I mean, sure. Yeah!” 

“Great.” 

A pause. Then both of them began to speak.

“I’m sorry, this would’ve been significantly less awkward on Saturday—”

“I’m sorry, I really futzed up your plan didn’t I—”

Achilles shrugged, smiling, though Voltaire seemed to give an emphatic “Mew.” 

“Nah, it’s okay, it wasn’t anything particularly fancy. The weather forecast says it’s supposed to be pretty warm, I thought perhaps we could have a picnic on the beach, we spent a lot of time there together this past year… Sit on the boardwalk where I, one could say, once regurgitated the contents of my alcohol-filled stomach with great gusto. You know. Very romantic.” 

“Oh, yeah, real romantic…” Alex chuckled and then looked back up at Achilles. “Well we can still have the picnic, can’t we? Like, do I at least still get the flowers?” 

“Absolutely not, you get nothing.”

“I get you.” 

The quip came quick, and Achilles couldn’t help but blush as Alex crawled forward to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, whispering, “Happy Winter Star to me.” 

Oh hell, in the span of three minutes, he’d nearly forgotten it was Winter Star—there was a schedule to keep! Achilles jumped off the bed and hurled Alex a dark green sweater he’d purchased for him the week before. 

“Get dressed and brush your teeth. I baked some muffins and they taste best fresh.” He had scurried halfway to the kitchen when he remembered his promise and dashed back to give Alex a kiss of his own, only to be accosted with, 

“You baked muffins—?” 

*****

The muffins were good, the peppermint hot chocolate marginally less so (too much peppermint), but they took their vittles to the living room to lounge by the fireplace among the poinsettias and other decorations Achilles had put up in the two hours before Alex had woken. 

He’d someone, somehow, forgotten to purchase a tree—absolutely ridiculous, who even was he? Truly, never mind all the half-eaten takeout, that was the real indication of his mental state earlier this season…—and worse, had only realized it after purchasing a (wildly expensive) set of silver and gold glass ornaments. With no choice but to improvise, he’d hung them from the mantel like stockings and strung the white string lights and ribbon across the beams of the ceiling.

As for the crystal star topper he’d spent two days scouring the web for—he had tied it to the top of the potted plant Elliott had gifted him so many seasons ago and placed it in the center of the coffee table alongside an admirable stack of gift bags and presents, each neatly labeled with the name of their recipient—Elliott, Leah, Emily, Shane, among others. 

One gift bag was already empty, its contents and swathes of wrapping paper strewn across its giftee’s lap—a smart watch (the latest waterproof model, as Achilles had previously promised); a plush, embroidered towel; a pair of sneakers he knew Alex had been eyeing; and a bright blue bandana, a bag of treats, and a thin leather collar. 

“But that’s all for Dusty, not you, just to be clear,” Achilles said, taking a peek into the gift bag Alex had handed him just as Alex experimentally unclasped the collar. “I mean. Unless you want to wear it, I won’t say no, exactly…” 

Like a kid—the true Winter Star spirit—Alex dissolved into a fit of giggles so “disgustingly, overwhelmingly adorable” (as Achilles would say later that evening in a marginally more inebriated state) that Achilles’ cheeks couldn’t help but hurt from smiling so hard. To cap it off, Alex crawled across the couch to tackle him in a tight squeeze of a hug. “Thank you, Ash.” 

For Achilles, Alex had gathered a selection of small goods, each accompanied by a handwritten little note: a mini umbrella (“Because you still haven’t baught one, you punk. Remember that time you left Penny and I in the rain?”); a cat shaped mug, complete with a lid with ears (“Because you always spill tea on yourself”); a nice set of waterproof notebooks (“Because I accidentally totally ruined that one notebook of yours that time we went out on the boat, and especially now that you write around water a bunch”); a sheet of colorful temporary tattoos (‘Because your always doing a good job every day!’), and finally, a framed photograph that Achilles didn’t quite recognize.  

“It’s from my birthday party, when Haley was taking photos—she showed me this one a few weeks ago, and I just thought it was… nice.” Alex shrugged from over Achilles’ shoulder.

Now that he was taking a closer look, he recognized the game of beach volleyball going on in the background. It was a candid shot, for sure—Achilles half sprawled in the sand, laughing, after spiking the ball across the net. Alex grinning, kneeling down to help pull him up under the glow of the sunset. 

Achilles held the frame between his hands and stared resolutely down at the photo, his eyes beginning to burn just the tiniest bit. “Thanks, Al.” 

“Oh, but Voltaire, I’m so sorry, I’m the worst, I didn’t get you anything—”

With a small start, he looked up to witness Alex scooped up the maine coon in one fluid motion and bury his face in his fur. 

*****

“So, which one of those is for the gift exchange?” 

Post-violent cuddling, Voltaire had wriggled himself from Alex’s grasp and found a comfortable spot in Achilles’ lap, while Achilles himself had chosen to stretch across the sofa, his head in Alex’s lap. Alex subsequently had no lap to lie on, but he was now donning a giant green bow that Achilles had managed to violently stick to the top of his head after a couch-side tussle. Stuffed on muffins and hot chocolate, they had only a few minutes to go before they were to head over to Pelican Town for the community celebration. 

“Hmm?” Achilles glanced back over at the presents surrounding the Potted Shrub of the Winter Star. “What gift exchange?”

“The one for the festival?”

“Fuck. What one for the festival?”

“The one—well it’s why the town shows up an hour early—Lewis didn’t tell you? I told him you never check your—”

“Fucking hell—”

“Oh, Achilles, when will you learn—”

Achilles bolted from the couch, sending Voltaire sprawling with an indigent “Meow!” to the ground, and sprinted out the door to the mailbox. With a huff, he wrenched the little flap open and scooped the entire contents to the snowy ground. 

“Put a jacket on, put a jacket on—sheesh, man, you’re gonna get pneumonia again—” Alex, hopping bowlegged among the snow drifts, caught up a moment later, throwing a coat over Achilles’ huddled figure. 

Advertisements, bills (that he paid online), and letters, so many letters—seriously, who was sending him mail these days? He hurriedly dug through the stacks of paper fluttering about on the ground, keeping an eye out for the pale green envelopes he knew Lewis was apt to use. 

“‘Starting tomorrow, a traveling merchant fleet…’ No...” 

Alex was helping now, too, squatting next to him, squinting at a cream sheet of cardstock in his hands. “‘Dear Ah—Ah—’ Geez Louise, is that really how your name is spelled or is my dumb bunny brain just kicking into overdrive? ‘One… week from today…’ Man, this is from last season, Ash—”

“Gift exchange? Like a Secret Santa-esque event? Fuck, I didn’t even opt into this, does Lewis just assume everyone wants to participate?” Achilles flung a belated invitation to Spirit’s Eve into the “discard” pile. 

“Yeah, it’s kinda tradition…” Alex studied another sheet of cardstock carefully before adding it to the growing pile. “But heyyo, maybe you’ll have like Leah or Elliott, someone you already bought something for—”

“Oh, it’s going to be someone like… Demetrius. Or Caroline. Fuck, this is going to be so embarrassing—wait, oh my god.” 

“What?” 

“‘This is embarrassing… “

“It’ll be fine, we’ll figure something out—”

“No, no,I’m reading aloud—listen to this—

‘Achilles, this is embarrassing. I lost my lucky purple shorts. I’m telling you because I think I can trust you. If you find them, bring them back to me DISCREETLY. I’ll pay well. Th-th-thanks. M—Mayor—’” Achilles, whose voice had been remarkably increasing in pitch into teakettle territory as he read the note, began to succumb to his fit of laughter, barely choking out the final words. “‘Mayor Lewis.’ Pay well? Pay well? Does he realize who he’s trying to bribe?” He passed the note to Alex. “I can’t…”  

“Holy moly—”

“I can’t. I wish I had found this earlier—”

“Yoba, why the heck does he think he can trust you, you literally just moved here this year—”

“God, and the thing is, now that I think about it, I have seen a pair of purple shorts—”

“Oh, Ash, we have five minutes before we need to go—”

“—but what did he expect me to do—”

“Ash—”

“—just waltz into her bedroom and grab ‘em from the floor—”

“Achilles—are you listening to me, we have five minutes—”

“All right, all right, all right….” 

They continued to search, until finally, a little “Bingo!” indicated Achilles had found what they’d been looking for. He waved the envelope under Alex’s nose in celebration before unfolding the rest of the note.  

“Read it aloud!”

“Why? You got the same damn lett—okay, okay, fine… 

“’Dear Ashe Achilles…’” 

He glanced up. “How is it that the bastard still can’t spell my name?”

“Maybe if you opened a letter once in a while you could’ve corrected him earlier.” 

“Sassy. Ok—

“‘I would like to give you some information about an upcoming event: the Feast of the Winter Star. It’s a time for the community to come together and think back on all the good fortune we’ve had this year. A favorite tradition is the ‘secret gift exchange,’ where everyone in town is randomly assigned to someone else. On the day of the festival, everyone brings a gift for their secret friend—‘ Secret friend? Who says that? That sounds like something you’d call an affair partner—” 

“Keep reading you punk!”

“’And surprise them with something special! This year, your secret friend is—” Achilles flipped over the letter. “Please don’t be Clint, please don’t be Clint, I haven’t spoken to him in— Oh. A thing like that.” 

“Who is it?” In his anticipation, Alex nearly lost his balance from leaning so far over, but Achilles gave him a light shove. 

“Well you know,” he folded the letter and gave it an aggravatingly pompous little tap as he inserted it back into the envelope. “Lewis says I’m not supposed to tell anyone…”

“I’m trying to help, man—”

“You. My ‘secret friend’ is you. Well.” Achilles stood, both arms full of mail that he fully intended to use as kindling that evening. “That makes it easy. Come on, let’s just put something back in the box, I’ll rewrap it and bring it to Pelican Town. Can’t show up empty-handed, don’t need Lewis telling me I’m a disgrace to the community or something…” 

He padded back to the porch before turning back to Alex. “Damn, I’m sorry, Al. Could’ve surprised you with one more gift had I been a normal person and checked my mail…” 

“It’s okay!” Alex opened the door and gestured for him to go in first. “You’re my surprise gift. Although if I can be honest…”

From behind, Alex embraced Achilles as they reentered the farmhouse, and, lifting him slightly off the ground, gave him a little spin—god, he would never in a million years get used to the feeling of being wrapped in those arms—“I think ya boy may have low key been calling you my boyfriend in my head since like our first date.” 

“Oh yeah? You want to make Winter 13 our anniversary date instead? I’ve always felt sharing with a holiday halves the fun of both the holiday and the anniversary, so while you do get the same amount of fun overall, everything somehow feels… less… hmm. Saturated.” 

“I’ll take your word for it, you of all people would know.” Alex sighed at the pile of mail Achilles had dumped unceremoniously onto the living room floor before unclasping his new watch from his wrist. “Let’s rewrap this one, let me flex my rich boyfriend on all those other Zuzu townies…” 

*****

Crisis averted. Achilles had rewrapped the shoes (he had persuaded Alex that a gift as expensive and pseudo-flashy as the watch wouldn’t be in good taste for a public gift exchange, even though “Everyone knows you’re rich, Ash,” “I don’t even know how everyone knows, it’s not like I go around talking about it, that’s tacky as hell,” “Achilles, both your parents and you have Wikipedia pages and you singlehandedly fixed the town’s mining cart system.”) in a jiffy, and before they knew it, they were bidding farewell to Voltaire and making their way east to Pelican Town. 

“Achilles, this is where we first met!” 

Alex had given Achilles’ arm an eager little tug. He glanced at the approaching bus stop bench that Alex was gleefully pointing out. A year ago, they’d both dove under the stoop to hide from the Spring rain, but today the benches were soaked with melted snow that’d been blown under by this Winter’s temperamental winds. 

“Oh. Sure, I suppose.” He craned his neck for a better look—why was Alex pointing this out?“We walk by this almost every day, Al.” 

“Titanic?” 

“Pardon? Now you’ve really lost me.” 

“I was quoting Titanic. Remember? You quoted Titanic?” 

“No, when did I quote Titanic?”

“Here, at the bus stop! Oh, wait no, my bad, actually, I take that back, you quoted Titanic that night on the boardwalk…” 

“Oh, no wonder I don’t remember—” 

“You called yourself a poor little rich girl.” Alex chuckled at the memory. “I hadn’t watched it at the time, but I rented it with Haley a couple weeks after...”  

They were now parallel with the bus stop, and both stopped, standing side by side, to take a look.

“If it hadn’t rained that night, do you think we’d still be friends?” 

“Oh, for sure, we would’ve met each other sooner or later…” Achilles shrugged. “Small town. Even smaller number of people who could pronounce my name correctly, appreciate mediocre children’s literature, and enjoy House of the Phoenix.” 

“Yeah, that’s true…” Alex gave the bus stop a little tilt of his head before leading them onwards. “But even in a big town I like to think we would’ve found each other.” 

They entered Pelican Town walking in step, and as their shoes hit well-shoveled cobblestone and the sounds of carols filled their ears, Achilles slipped his fingers through Alex’s, prompting a little “Ope!” to escape his lips. 

“I thought you didn’t like holding hands?” 

“Mmm. But you do.”  

*****

Pelican Town was awash in pastel fairy lights twinkling like cotton candy stars across the snow. Massive candy canes, taller than Alex, rose from the ground alongside newly erected pine trees— smaller than the one in the center of the square, but ornamented with the same colorful cheer. 

The fences had been wrapped in garlands of green and red and wreaths hung from ever home. There were no actual carolers, but the music was blasting merrily from speakers hidden deftly within massive, faux gift boxes scattered among the town. 

Between the obvious festive cheer and the man standing next to him, Achilles’ heart couldn’t be set more aglow; he was holding onto Alex with both hands now, pulling him close as they laughed at nothing under the bright Winter sun. Yoba, even the temperature was perfect. Not a hint of wind now, and the snow was quickly fading to flurries… He hadn’t felt so carefree in years.  

“Oh my! Aren’t you cold, dear? It’s freezing!” Evelyn, herself in a bright pink puffer jacket, greeted them with a hug each. “That coat looks much too thin, Achilles… perhaps you can grab one of Alex’s before Lewis arrives…”

The Festival didn’t open to the public until 1pm; the hour before was reserved for the townsfolk to celebrate, and they were all currently waiting for Lewis to kick off the gift exchange. 

Achilles laughed—he was doing a lot of that lately—and waved aside her concerns. “I’m fine, but thank you, Evelyn.” 

 He was happy to see George greet his grandson, though the old man offered him only a stiff nod. Achilles wasn’t surprised; he was quite mindful of those beady eyes watching him grip Alex’s arm. But even so, it was an improvement over the silent treatment they’d both been receiving before. 

But as Evelyn ruffled his hair, he felt something slap his thigh and he looked down to see George force a single, still-steaming snickerdoodle cookie into his hands.

“Oh. Thank you… for this, George, these are my favorite.” 

George grunted. 

Soon, Mayor Lewis arrived, and after gathering the townsfolk in front of the tree in the center of the square, gave a lofty speech espousing the usual values of community and friendship and holiday cheer before finally kicking off the gift exchange. 

Achilles was given a tub of clay from Jas, which he accepted with a significant degree of feigned enthusiasm. Perhaps Leah would appreciate it. Shane’s god-daughter however, also handed him a second box that was revealed to contain a multipack of typewriter ribbon. He strongly suspected Shane must’ve intervened, a theory all but confirmed by the stout man’s intense stare as Achilles thanked the girl for the gifts. 

They could hear the crowds beginning to form—the Feast of the Winter Star was allegedly the third most popular festival for the Valley (behind, of course, Zuzu Time’s #1 Ranked Spirit’s Eve Celebration 10 years in a row and the County Fair), though Achilles wasn’t exactly sure why, given the lack of activities. Truly, outside of Haley’s photo booth, the Feast was, as its name suggested, mostly just a feast. 

It was free to attend, but donations were welcome. Achilles himself had donated five hundred dollars the preceding week, though apparently that hadn’t been enough for Lewis, who had cornered him halfway during the gift exchange, waving a metal tin under his nose and shouting something about “esteemed representatives of the community.” 

But all things come to an end—including Lewis’ nagging, and when 1pm hit, Lewis had no choice but to leave Achilles alone and open the gates for the public. The Feast had officially begun! 

*****

They had managed to snag a table before the majority of the newcomers streamed in, but the moment Gus declared the meals ready, Alex quickly leapt to his feet. “I can get us food—no, don’t get up! I’ll grab it, you stay here, don’t worry.”

He skipped over to wait in the already egregiously long line, leaving Achilles to fend for himself when Haley slipped into the seat next to him. She set her camera between them and folded her arms primly atop the table, giving a curt little nod in Alex’s general direction.

“Look at him,” she sniffed, not waiting for Achilles to follow her gaze. “It’s a strange thing to see, after knowing him all these years… Don’t get me wrong, he’s always been nice to all his girlfriends, you’re not special there. Keeping chivalry alive singlehandedly.” 

Someone—a stranger, likely from Zuzu—approached them to take an open seat, but Haley shot the man the most disparaging look down the bridge of her nose, and he scampered away. She continued as if nothing happened, tracing a line down the tablecloth with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“It was… different then, though. I always thought there was something… not inauthentic, per se, but you could tell the boy’s heart wasn’t really ever into it… Can’t believe I never called it, who even am I. Gay and asexual. Gaysexual? Who’d have thought, really, given the way that man allegedly fucked his way across campus sophomore year, though perhaps the ‘allegedly’ was really carrying all the weight this whole time—”

“Such a lovely way with words, you always have—”

“Anyway, all that to say, he still seems quite different with you. I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. Hmm… With you… Well.” Haley took a sip from her cider and slowly curled her fingers around Achilles’ gloved wrist. “He just worships the ground you walk on, doesn’t he?” 

Achilles watched Alex chat with Stardew’s favorite troublemaking trio in line. He was easy to pick out from the masses; the bomber jacket he’d pretty much stolen from Achilles at this point; the way he stood, perfect posture with his heels slightly off the ground, like a bird ready to take flight; the precise angle at which he tossed his head back when he laughed. 

Achilles smiled and turned back to Haley. “And I the air he breathes.” 

“Quoting something? That sounds like a quote.” 

“Mmm. Elliott’s novel, actually.” 

She tittered. “What were the chances you think, of him actually choosing you?”  

“I choose not to dwell on such inane, trivial matters.” Achilles took in her single raised eyebrow and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think about it. Why, you don’t approve?” 

“Oh, please.” It was Haley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Do not ever ask me again if I don’t approve.” 

And with a sharp flick of his nose, she stood and flounced away. 

*****

Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam joined Achilles and Alex at their table, plates heaping with food rivaling that of even his parents’ party. Roasted carrots popping against slices of honey glazed ham, gravy-laden goose next to crispy green bean casserole, cranberry sauce dripping into steaming corn bread—Alex had made sure to grab him a slice of chocolate cranberry pavlova as well (“You gotta get the desserts right away, otherwise they’re all gone”). 

As to be expected, Elliott and Leah soon followed, along with Penny and Maru. It was turning into quite the little Stardew Valley party over at their table; unfortunately Emily was stuck helping Gus with the catering, and Haley had returned to her photo booth. 

“Oh darn it, I forgot the drinks—I’m going to get some hot chocolate, I think. Do you want one? No, no, you stay here, I’ll grab you one!” Alex bounded from his chair for the drinks station. 

“Hi!” 

A girl seemed to have popped out of thin air—early 20s, if Achilles were to venture a guess, with gold ringlets and rather blinding white teeth. Instinctively, Achilles found himself stifling a groan.

“The guy who just stood up—are you guys friends with him?”

It was Leah who responded, in her usual sardonic tone, hands perched primly under her chin. “Well, seeing as we’re all eating and talking together, I would venture to say… yes.”  

The girl admirably remained unruffled and gave a little nod to another woman at the neighboring table. “My friend over there was just wondering if he was single, she was hoping to give him her number if so.” 

Elliott let out a hearty guffaw, and, with Leah, naturally looked at Achilles. 

This always happens, why does this always happen… He turned to look at the girl. “Ah. He’s my… partner.” 

But she only furrowed her brow. “Partner? Like… business partner…?” 

This time, it was Leah who snorted into her mashed potatoes, though Abigail and Sam’s eyes had both turned as wide as saucers at Achilles’ reveal. 

A reveal it seemed he’d have to further clarify. “No… like, a boyfriend sort of partner. He’s my… boyfriend.” 

It took everything in him to keep a straight face as Abigail and Sam flopped dramatically in their chairs and began beating the dining table with their fists. 

“Oh—oh.” The girl turned red and took a step back. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing—of, course, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot—I’ll tell my friend, but you two—you two make a gorgeous couple— like, gorgeous, so cute—okay, bye! Sorry for disturbing you, have a happy Winter Star!”

“Is this my life for the next… I don’t know, for the rest of my life?” Achilles asked just as Alex returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. 

“Is what your life? Who was that woman you were talking to?” 

“Jealous?” That was Abigail, jabbing her fork towards his general direction for emphasis. 

“What?” Alex’s brows knitted in his confusion. “No—why would I be—”

“What else do women ever want went they approach us?” Achilles patted Alex’s hand as he took a swig from the mug. “You.”

Sam continued the bombardment, adding with a mock groan, “We get it, Alex, you’re hot. God, leave some for the rest of us, will ya—” 

“—now doncha worry, Achilles told her you’re his partner—” 

“Partner?” Alex turned from Abigail back to Achilles, who gave a little shrug. “Like… business partner?” 

Oh, Alex… 

But before he could explain, Maru jumped in. “A rapidly growing number of people around the country are using the word ‘partner’ these days in lieu of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when referring to their significant other. It’s a much more inclusive term, I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before—” 

Achilles quickly cut in. “I’ve personally just never particularly loved using the word ‘boyfriend.’ But I don’t mind if you do, you can use whatever you’d like.” He placed a hand atop Alex’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

“Partner…” Alex seemed to roll the word around in his mouth, savoring the feel of those two syllables. “It sounds very adult. I can see why you like it, seems on brand.” 

*****

After the feast came a performance from the Meteor Elementary children’s choir. Familiar faces, Achilles saw, peeking above red and white turtlenecks. He cheered alongside Penny, standing to applaud as the students took their bows.   

Near the tail end of the Festival, as the sun began to set and the holiday lights began to flicker on, Lewis and his crew began to clean up the food-laden tables to clear some space in the square. The jolly carols that had been playing slowly transitioned to a more crooning series of tunes, as those who remained headed for the dance floor.  

Neither Alex nor Achilles were particularly inclined to join, both rather full on one too many servings of ham; the former was deep in conversation with Megan and none other than Tanya from Orange Grove, while the latter was jotting down a sudden idea into a notebook propped against the edge of the table. But when his favorite Winter Star ballad came on, Achilles stood and offered his hand. 

“Sorry, I don’t know how to do this right,” Alex shyly mumbled as Achilles led him to the floor and slid his free hand around his waist. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands—never done this with… well, you know…” 

“Your boyfriend?”

“My partner?” 

“In crime or business?” 

Alex laughed and followed his partner’s lead, placing his hand on his back and leaning into his body, his cheek against Achilles’, with a small, satisfied sigh. 

*****

“Well. Now comes the painful hour where I must release you to your forebears…”

Achilles, slightly tipsy now from a handful of unsuspectingly strong hot toddies, gave Alex a low bow before accidentally tripping forward. 

“I’m not drunk,” he insisted, though he allowed Alex to scoop him up and then subsequently buried himself in his sweater, breathing in the lingering scents of garlic mashed potatoes and gingerbread, enveloping himself in his comforting warmth. “I just… lost my balance.” 

“You don’t need to defend yourself. Need me to walk you home?” 

“I don’t need it, but I mean… it is dark… who knows, I could get lost in the woods…” He walked his fingers up Alex’s chest as Alex chuckled softly and ruffled Achilles’ what had been meticulously styled hair. 

“Woods my butt, the only thing between your house and town is the bus stop. But come on. Let’s get you back.” 

The Festival had ended, the crowds had dispersed. The tree would stay up until the end of the season, but the rest of the decor was already being packed away by Lewis, Marnie, and the rest of the usual team. 

Having lain claim to Alex that morning, Achilles now had to bid the man farewell, for Alex was to spend the evening with his grandparents. They walked back to Strawberry Farms, Achilles with his two-handed grip around Alex’s arm (“This is not for stability, because, again, I’m not drunk. I actually just really like you, believe it or not.”), with only the sound of snow crunching underfoot. 

But he broke the silence as they passed the “Strawberry Farms,” sign Leah had carved for him, the paint looking just as fresh as it had when she’d given it to him that Summer, and half-tittered the chorus of a carol before asking, “Did you have a good Winter Star, baby?” 

“The best.” Alex gently pulled himself out of Achilles’ grip to wrap his own arms around his waist as they walked. “This morning was my favorite part, though, I think.” 

God, he was absolutely intoxicating—more so than any drink Achilles had had that night. Every part of him—his touch, his smell, even his voice, like whiskey burning through every one of Achilles’ veins. 

“I love you, Alex,” he murmured. He could see Alex smile under the faint glow of the approaching porch light. Achilles stepped forward, kissed him softly, and whispered again, into his lips, “I love you so much.” 

Alex responded by giving his nose a pinch (“Ow, what are you doing, it’s not even twitching.”). “Hey, you drink lots of water before you go to bed, you hear me?” 

Achilles waved him off. “Yes, mother—I told you, I’m not drunk.”

“Sure, sure.”

“No I’m not, I had maybe two drinks… as if I’d dare over indulge in public like that. And in front of Lewis, no less… but don’t you worry, Voltaire and I are going to make a very strong cup of tea tonight with our new mug.” 

“Good.” Alex kissed his cheek. “I love you.” And then, just before stepping off the bottom step into the dark, he turned and added, “Thank you.” 

[moodywyrm]

that’s good!!! i hope you have a great time <3

a good morning!! you broke the bad morning streak <3 and that’s so nice, a very calm day :o and that’s great omg!!! god i used to have a monstera but i had to give it to my friend when we got binx </3 it was one of my babies </3

my day was not the best tbh :( i woke up all overstimulated and my dad and brother were calling me because the passwords to hulu and disney+ and whatever else weren’t working but they’re mine!! and i didn’t know they were using my accounts!!! and ugh idk i just feel so :( about my body today :( felt so clingy too,, i cried when my gf left for work but it’ll hopefully be okay bc she ordered my favorite food and we’re gonna cuddle and watch a movie <3 i also ordered an appa pillow pet because i have no financial control

- 🩷

a broke the bad morning streak! thank god! Are monsteras bad for cats? I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future :(

Oh honey I’m so sorry :( being overstimulated is the fucking worst, especially you literally just have to hard reset or wait it out :( they should have told you they were using your accounts!! that sucks :( oh honey :( I’m sure you look gorgeous, but I totally get having a bad body day, and I hope the feeling fades quickly 💕 It’s hard work being clingy! But she’ll be back soon and you’ll have good food and lots of love and sweet cuddles! And everything will work out, but I’m sorry you had a bad day :(

also the appa pillow pet seems like a very good treat after the day you’ve had, and I hope it’s as soft and wonderful as you hope it is 💕 also pls drop the link I would like one 💕

[hansolmates]

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray. 

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time. 

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator. 

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!” 

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face. 

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds. 

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely. 

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day. 

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open. 

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.” 

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him. 

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season. 

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie. 

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself. 

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.” 

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise. 

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.” 

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip  that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook. 

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making. 

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.” 

“No, that’s my mug.” 

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!” 

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”  

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.” 

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure? 

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.” 

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night. 

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop. 

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills. 

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours. 

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride. 

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it. 

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.” 

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away. 

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely. 

[minaslittleone]

The Sarahs as plant mums (AHS & Ratched)

Like many people I've become an avid plant mum over the course of the pandemic (much to the chagrin of those in my life who have to hear every time one of my babies sprouts a new leaf), which got me thinking - what kind of plant mum would each of the Sarahs be?

GIF: illuminated-blue

Billie-Dean Howard

Image: winterkindfotographie

Billie-Dean is much more partial to flowers than she is to caring for a whole plant. She is definitely the kind of person who always has fresh flowers in her home but also takes the time to trim and rearrange the bouquet as she places it in a vase, rather than merely unceremoniously compacting the existing arrangement into a vessel. She also definitely has a secret cut flower food recipe (passed down to her by the ghost of a Victorian housekeeper whom she met while filming a special of her show at a mansion in the UK) which keeps her cut flowers looking immaculate for a full week. If her schedule permits it, her favourite thing to do on a Sunday morning is to stroll the farmers markets and choose individual types of flowers and foliage to bring home and arrange herself from scratch. She finds the process of trimming each of the stems and finding the perfect position for each individual bloom incredibly cathartic.

Her favourite flowers are bright and cheerful. She is particularly drawn to things like tulips, gerberas and lillies, but finds softer more delicate blooms like carnations frustrating and overly dramatic, she definitely appreciates a bit of tenacity in her flowers. She also has no time for strongly scented blooms, and particularly despises the way roses seem to emit a sickly sweet odor after only a few days. Billie finds scents and perfumes in general to be quite cloying and overwhelming as smell is one of the ways she is often viscerally affected when she makes contact with ghosts. She unfortunately associates most strong smells with encounters and so sweet smelling blooms hold little appeal to her, she much prefers fresh neutral scents. The one exception is lavender which she does find soothing. After a particularly taxing week it is not uncommon for her usual bright cheerful blooms to be replaced by simple posies of lavender and rosemary as she recenters herself.

Lana Winters

Image: toms-cacti

Lana is undoubtedly a plant serial killer. Which is totally unsurprising since whenever she gets fixated on a new story she often forgets to feed herself, let alone feed and water her plants. That doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate them though. She loves the way little office plants bring life and vitality to her workspace, that is until they inevitably whither and die from lack of water, or from being burried under piles of paper but that doesn't stop her trying.

Eventually Lana discovers that she and succulents are well suited. It actually makes a lot of sense when she thinks about it - they're both a little prickly on the outside (but only to protect the softness underneath) and both are stubborn to a fault. Lana is particularly fond of the slightly larger cactus she keeps on her desk (which is incidentally the first plant she managed not to kill) and often finds herself talking to him to help work through the flow of her ideas or to overcome writer's block. Spike (as she creatively named him) really is a very good listener and a talented editor to boot.

Still there are times when Lana wishes she had a greener thumb and could expand her collection beyond succulents. As much as she loves Spike and his prickly friends, she really wishes they would grow just a bit quicker so she could experience that new leaf joy even just once. She completely dissuades herself of those feelings though when she returns from a week long book tour to find a weird bump on the top of Spike. Her first thought is that after all this time she's finally managed to kill him and that she really is as terrible a plant parent as she had feared. However, those fears completely dissolved the following morning when she returned to her office to find that Spike's bump had begun to open into the beginnings of a beautiful pink flower. For a minute she could only stare on disbelief, not quite comprehending what was going on however, that quickly gave way to a giddy childlike grin when she realised that she must be doing something right. That, and her little man really did look very cute with his flower top hat.

Cordelia Goode

Image: chickadeegreen

Cordelia doesn't just have a green thumb, she has ten green fingers. She absolutely adores plants and having living things around her, especially since the greenhouse has always been her place of peace and sanctuary. She finds it incredibly cathartic pottering around the greenhouse when she gets a few spare moments away from all her duties as supreme/headmistress/mother to a house full of girls. Most of the plants she keeps in the greenhouse are solely for practical/ medicinal purposes but she does keep a few plants in her room and office which she finds soothing. She is particularly fond of philodendrons and pothos with their easy going nature and relaxed growth pattern. She loves the way they seem to make themselves at home anywhere and every time she spots new leaves unfurling it makes her smile. She tries to make an effort to see the beauty in their imperfections and use them to remind herself that everything doesn't always have to be perfect.

Since her supremacy the plants in her personal spaces have thrived unlike anything anyone has ever seen, seemingly feeding off Cordelia's magical aura. Any time any of the plants in the greenhouse are waning she will take them to her office for a few days of rehabilitation after which they will always be positively bursting with life. It is not uncommon for her to find new additions appearing in her little infirmary if Mallory or Misty have noticed that a particular plant is in need of a little TLC.

The flip side to this is that any time Cordelia over taxes herself, while she may be an expert at schooling her features and hiding it from her girls, it will show in her plants. After too many late nights dealing with running the academy or too many days spent funneling all of her energy into everyone around her (and subsequently completely neglecting herself) the plants in her office (and room) will start to lose their vibrancy as well. The first victim is usually the heartleaf philodendron on Cordelia's office bookshelf (the first plant she allowed herself to bring into the space after ascending to the supremacy) which seems to be particularly attune to her moods, especially when it is feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy sapping her magic. Conversely it's the monstera deliciosa in the corner of her office that seems to be the first to wilt when its physical stress or exhaustion plaguing the supreme. Zoe now automatically takes stock of the plants in Cordelia's office every time she enters, knowing it's the only true indication she's likely to get that the supreme herself might be in need of some TLC.

Bette and Dot Tattler

Image: geopsych

Bette has always been drawn to flowers, she thinks they're terribly romantic. From bouquets of flowers from gentleman callers to sweet cottage gardens behind white picket fences, teeming with blooms of assorted colours, Bette thinks flowers are a beautiful symbol of normality. She desperately wants to have a garden or even a window box that she can tend to, however that particular desire is not entirely compatible with living in a trailer.

What she does have though is a small collection of African Violets sitting on their kitchen windowsill. They were a present from Jimmy after Bette's first performance singing in the freakshow. Though she might be completely tone deaf she is fiercely determined, so after months of practice she had finally managed to learn "dream a little dream of me" enough to hold the tune (with Dot gently humming it alongside her to keep her in pitch). A few days before Bette was due to perform Jimmy had quietly pressed a note into Dot's palm after dinner asking which type of flowers Bette preferred so that he could get her a bouquet for her first performance. Dot's heart warmed at that, seeing the man that she loved so tenderly care for her sister. Later that evening she had pressed a note back in reply that Bette loved anything pink, cheerful and romantic, however she also ached for flowers the she could keep beyond the length of time a bouquet would last. So maybe a flowering plant would be better. Jimmy of course bought both, handing Bette a beautiful posie of assorted pink coloured carnations along with a terracotta pot of African Violets. Bette had thrown her arm around Jimmy's neck and squeeled with excitement at the sight of her flowers while Dot had offered him the warmest, proudest smile as she mouthed "thank you" against the backdrop of her sister's excited ramblings.

Given how long Bette had pined for flowers and how excited she had been to receive them it is unsurprising that she is a devoted plant parent. She waters her flowers once a week like clockwork, adding water to a saucer underneath the pot and letting them drink the water up through their roots just like Paul had shown her. Apparently African Violets don't like to get their leaves wet. Bette would even go as far as to take her flowers out for some sun if she felt the conditions on their windowsill weren't right at their current campsite. Her little pot of flowers really did bring her so much joy.

Dot may not have shared her sister's passion for flowers (finding them mostly to be needless and frivolous) but in the end she was the one who responsible for the expansion of her sister's flower garden. When Paul had originally shown Bette how to care for her flowers he had also mentioned that they could be propagated which had fascinated Dot. The idea you could just take a leaf and it would grow roots and become a completely new plant was amazing to her. But convincing Bette to let her try it out for herself definitely proved to be battle. Bette certainly wasn't keen on allowing her sister to chop into her precious flowers while Dot couldn't see why her sister was being so protective, the little plant certainly had plenty of leaves to spare, especially if it could give a whole new plant. Unsurprisingly the disagreement escalated to a pair of very raised voices which is what ultimately drew Jimmy into the argument. After managing to calm down both sisters Jimmy revealed to Bette that the tiny pot plant had originally been her sister's idea because she knew how much she wanted to have flowers of her own. Dot confirmed that she does know how important the flowers are to Bette and that she would never want to hurt them, she was just excited at the possibility of being to make more of them for her sister and be able to give her the windowsill full of flowers that she had always dreamed of. Bette couldn't help but relent after that. A few months later and Dot has become quite the propagation expert, to the point where their windowsill is beggining to fill up with juvenile plants as well as fresh cuttings just beginning to take root. Bette smiles every time they catch her eye, not just at the beauty of the flowers that she spent so long pining for but also for how they symbolise her sister's love for her. While they may still bicker bitterly from time to time, Bette knows that no one will ever love her as much or as fiercely as her sister does. Dot still has no real interest in the flowers themselves. She does still find propagating rewarding, especially watching her little babies start to grow and flourish. But mostly she just enjoys watching the way they make her sister smile.

Sally McKenna

Image: jeremiahsplants

Sally is obsessed with carnivorous plants and you can't convince me otherwise. She definitely discovered them on Instagram and loves all the funny shapes and crazy colours that they come in. Sally would never be content with a plant that looks like a plant - no her plants need to look like vicious little aliens. The fact that they're natural born killers is also a nice little bonus. She loves how they subvert the natural order of things - insects should eat plants not the other way around.

When she first discovered plants online Sally got really upset that she'd never be able to go out and buy any of her own. It was Iris who mentioned that maybe she would be able to order some online - big mistake. Sally is nothing if not obsessive and her room now rivals Poison Ivy's lair with the number of plants she has crammed in there. The sheer number of babies in her collection doesn't mean that she neglects them though, no Sally is absolutely an A level obsessive plant mum - only the best for her babies. When she discovered that carnivorous plants prefer distilled water to tap water she started ordering it by the gallon, and as the best lit positions in her room started to fill up she definitely ordered grow lights so that none of her babies suffer. The grow lights also give off a slight purple glow which makes her room look like a rave which is absolutely a feature and not a bug.

Sally has also been known to go hunting for food for her babies, especially since her collection has grown and she worries there isn't enough to go around. Iris and Liz frequently find her collecting dead flies from window ledges to take back to her growing brood. She offers them to her babies with tweezers as a mother bird would to her chicks. The last time Iris had an exterminator spray the Cortez Sally accused her of trying to murder her babies with poison and absolutely ordered fruit flies online (intended for feeding pet reptiles rather than pet plants but meh) to keep her collection going until she could be absolutely sure that the offending toxins had dissipated.

It goes without saying that Sally has a separate plant Instagram account which she updates on nearly a daily basis with photos of new growth or just progress on her collection. She definitely has a great eye for plant photography and for making her babies come to life on the screen. One of her favourite things to do is film feeding videos with her largest Venus Flytrap "Fang" (who incidentally has his own Instagram account: @Fangstagram). Watching plants move so quickly will never get old to Sally and she has definitely been known to tease some of her smaller flytraps into snapping shut just for her enjoyment. She tries not tease them too much though, they are her babies after all.

Audrey Tindall

Image: savannahs-succulent-garden

Like Lana, Audrey is another serial plant killer, but for complete different reasons. Audrey, bless her, kills her plants with far too much kindness (and water). She so desperately wants a house full of the beautiful lush plants she sees all over Instagram so she tries her darnedest to be the best plant parent ever. Her problem is that every time she sees leaves starting to yellow or wilt she assumes it must be from lack of water (rather than the fact that their roots are already rotting from far too much).

Initially she fell into the trap of picking up plants she thought looked cute on Instagram or in the garden centre, without really knowing much about caring for them. Needless to say this didn't end well (multiple times). She thought she had cracked it when discovered the subset of house plants refered to as "hard to kill". Unfortunately, most of those plants are very resistant to neglect but not to Audrey's smothering type of plant parenting. Finally she discovered peace lillies which do actually like to have wet feet and appreciate all of her affection. She's slowly collecting other spathiphyllums in all shapes and sizes now that she's feels confident she's got the hang of them. She gets so excited every time one of them grows a new leaf or flowers - such a proud plant mum.

Now that she's growing a little more confident with at least a subset of house plants she will occasionally post photos to her Instagram. She's still pretty insecure about her plant parent abilities though and it doesn't help that she will occasionally get haters telling her she's doing it all completely wrong. She tries not to let them get to her but sometimes they really do get her down - all she wanted to do was share the joy that her plant babies bring her and she's doing her best to do right by them. After one particularly brutal bout of trolling it's actually Sally who defends her. Audrey has been following Sally's plantstagram since she first started getting interested in plants so the fact that Sally even acknowledged her kinda blows her mind. Sally tells people in no uncertain terms to back off Audrey or she will set her carnivorous babies on them. The two strike up a fast friendship after this and through Sally's guidance Audrey eventually begins to grow more confident as a plant mum. For her birthday Sally definitely sends Audrey her first baby Venus Flytrap with the absolute insistence that it be named "Audrey II".

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Image: swordsintheforest

Ally has never really seen the appeal of house plants nor does she have the time (or the headspace) to look after them. She does however have a fully stocked herb garden growing in window boxes in the kitchen to have everything within easy reach for cooking. She also loves the fresh clean smell of the basil and rosemary wafting through the house on the breeze if she leaves the windows open, particularly if it has rained. She may even admit that she's beginning to see the appeal of having the greenery around the place from an aesthetic standpoint as well.

Given how busy Ally is juggling being a senator, running a restaurant and being a single mum (plus whatever wink wink nudge nudge cult stuff she's up to on the side) it's not really surprising that it's Ozzie who's taken to caring for the herb garden most of the time. He's always been such an inquisitive kid and Ally loves watching the way his face lights up over simple things like flowers and new growth. Ozzie is particularly obsessed with propagation and there is always at least a handfull of his experiments on the windowsill. Whether it's an avocado seed he's trying to get to sprout or basil cuttings he's trying to root, he always has some new scheme in the works. Ally usually just smiles and ruffles his hair (so proud and glad that she has such an amazing and we'll rounded kid after everything that he's been through). As long as he leaves her enough basil to make pesto with, she's happy for him to play to his heart's content.

Wilhemina Venable

Image: leafyleafs

Plants have never been of any interest to Wilhemina, she considers them to be unnecessary sources of dirt and clutter. They serve no practical purpose so she has no time for them. At least until she becomes the somewhat unwilling recipient of one. As far as office secret Santa presents go, she supposes, the lilac coloured orchid is actually quite inoffensive. However she can't shake the feeling that it must have been bought for her as some kind of challenge, that someone at Kineros is secretly watching to see how quickly she will kill it because someone like the imperious Ms Venable is obviously incapable of the kindness or tenderness necessary to keep something as beautiful and delicate as an orchid. What she doesn't know is that it was actually from Mutt, because while he is usually too coked out of his mind to show it, he is actually quite fond of her. And he knows her well enough to know that she would never accept a gift from him directly so each Christmas he rigs the office Secret Santa to get her name so he can her something (and also partly because he doesn't trust some of the interns not to get her something crude on a dare given the anonymous nature of the gift). He also knows her well enough to realise that she would appreciate the elegant beauty (and obviously the colour) of the orchid but would never cede to the frivolity of buying something like it for herself.

Despite the good intentions of the gift, Wilhemina can not fathom the idea that it was genuinely meant for her enjoyment. Obviously someone is toying with her but she will not be beaten. Wilhemina Venable may not know the first thing about orchids but she will be damned if whoever gave her the wretched thing manages to get a laugh out of it at her expense. So she learns. Mina is nothing if not fiercely independent and resourceful so she scours the internet for information on orchid care and reads everything she can find. And of course she succeeds (because anything else would be unacceptable to her).

After six months her little orchid is still alive and thriving in her office and privately she would have to admit that she has grown quite attached to it. Compared to other plants she finds it to be quite neat and tidy, and there is something elegant and refined about its arching growth habit which she finds quite beautiful. Over the course of her research she has of course come across the tremendous variety of orchids available. She of course is drawn to all of the different tones of purple blooms but also finds herself unexpectedly drawn to some of the darker, more gothic varieties. She tries to tell herself that it is merely an aesthetic appreciation, that they hold no actual allure to her, but she keeps finding herself drawn back to them. She almost buys herself one on *so many* occasions but the idea of doing something so frivolous just for her own pleasure and enjoyment is so terrifying to her that she always chickens out. Eventually she caves though, buying an indigo coloured orchid on sale at the grocery store, abruptly rushing home with it before she can change her mind again. She spends the entire rest of the day second guessing the decision but the next morning when she opens her eyes to the delicate purple blooms tenderly placed on her night stand she can't help the gentle smile it brings to her face or the warmth that settles in her chest.

After that her collection slowly grows. She still struggles with buying things for herself simply for pleasure but she is getting better, and the sick guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach seems to appear less and less each time she does it. So her collection of orchids grows, mostly including those with particularly dark blooms or interesting and unusual shapes (though there are definitely a couple of lilac and lavender coloured blooms in there as well). She also begins to expand to other dark leaved plants as well, like certain begonias and definitely a ZZ raven. Like with the orchids, all of her new acquisitions are thoroughly researched and she is determined to succeed in their care.

Mutt will sometimes catch her glance fondly at her little desk orchid as he passes her office. He is genuinely glad to have given her something that seems to bring her such contentment. If only he knew the true extent of the gift he had given her.

Mildred Ratched

Image: bidoctor

Mildred has no idea about plants of any kind. Or at least she didn't before Gwen. Her childhood certainly wasn't filled with simple pleasures like planting flowers or playing in a vegetable patch, and any indoor plants or flower arrangements were merely things she was forbidden to touch and harshly punished if she damaged. So inevitably these things inspired a far greater degree of anxiety and tension in Mildred than they did joy or contentment.

But Gwen loves gardening. She had memories as a young child of helping her father in their backyard, returning of an evening covered in mud, much to her mother's dismay. Gwen's strong nurturing nature made her a very capable gardener and she derived a great sense of contentment from it. On some level Mildred wished she could help Gwen as she pottered through their garden of a weekend but she wouldn't have a clue where to start. In fact, the nasty voice in Mildred's head whispered, she would be so much better off without you, you'll just ruin everything, you're far too useless to be of any help. So as Gwen worked Mildred would watch, pretending to pay attention to her novel but really trying to find the pattern and reason to Gwen's actions so that maybe, someday, she wouldn't be quite so useless.

Mildred did, however, enjoy accompanying Gwen to the nursery when she went to collect supplies for their garden. Mildred may not have the faintest idea what any of the plants were called or how to care for them but she did find it peaceful to walk through the rows upon rows of different shades of green. She was continually fascinated by how many different shapes, sizes and colours they seemed to come in. Sometimes Gwen would catch her staring curiously at a particular plant but Mildred would always decline when Gwen offered that they could take it home with them.

One particular Saturday in spring Gwen found Mildred tenderly righting a small yellow marigold which had been knocked over by other nursery-goers as they riffled through the display to choose the brightest and most beautiful blooms. The poor little plant was somewhat lopsided and some of its leaves were slightly crushed from where it had lain, still there were the beginnings of golden yellow petals starting to peak from within the confines of its buds. Gwen watched as Mildred delicately unkinked the worst of the damaged leaves, fingers ghosting over the flowers that had yet to bloom. This time when Gwen suggested that they take the battered little plant home with them Mildred suddenly became very interested in a thread dangling from the cuff of her blouse as she muttered "Wouldn't it be easier to just choose one that isn't crushed? One without so much damage?". Gwen gently reached out, linking her pinkie with Mildred's, cursing that anything more would have been unacceptable in public. She gently squeezed Mildred's slender finger in her own until her gaze lifted to meet Gwendolyn's. "Never" she breathed. "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all". She felt her throat tighten and eyes begin to burn as she watched Mildred's eyes begin to glisten and that *damn* dimple on her chin begin to quiver. "I wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to look after it", Mildred's gaze dropping again to the poor bruised little plant. Gwen squeezed their intertwined fingers once more, coaxing Mildred's eyes to meet her own. "I can show you, if you'd like?" Mildred's teeth began to worry her bottom lip as she considered. "What if I can't? What if I kill it?" "Sweetheart, you won't and I'll be there with you every step of the way. We can do it together." Mildred seemed to consider this offer, turning back to gaze tenderly at their little friend, before meeting Gwen's eyes. "Ok" she murmured, "together".

After that, every time Mildred and Gwen returned to the nursery Mildred would inevitably leave with a battered looking plant that she was determined to rehabilitate. Gwen, true to her word, patiently guided Mildred through the basics of plant care and Mildred, unsurprisingly, quickly became very proficient. Her tiny, dextrous fingers, used to dealing with needles and surgical instruments, were incredibly adept at staking and repositioning bent and battered plants as she helped them to heal. Soon enough, one end of their porch became entirely dedicated to Mildred's patients, so much so that Gwen began affectionately referring to it as Mildred's ward. And in spite of her initial fears Mildred had become quite the proficient gardener, with her little rag-tag bunch of plants, all twisted and pointing in slightly odd directions, forming the most beautiful and beloved garden Gwendolyn had ever seen.

[makoodlesarchive]

in bloom 🌼 || bnharem server collab

hellooo everyone!! this is my piece for the bnharem sfw collab. The theme this time was ‘flowers’! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for my baby kiri! this collab was actually super fun to write for, i had a blast 🌸🌸🌸

please go and check out all of the fantastic works on the masterlist here!

kirishima x reader

word count: 4.9k

｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆ ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

Your apartment in Musutafu is small and cramped, with thin walls and very little natural light. The rent is extortionate for what it is, even considering the location in the city centre, and at least once a month there’s a complex wide electrical blackout. You can overlook all of the faults of the apartment though, because it’s in a safe neighbourhood close to a hero agency and, most importantly, it’s got a balcony.

Like the rest of the apartment, the balcony is small, but you’ve got enough room to cram a little outdoor bench into the corner. The rest of the space is filled with planters full of flowers and leafy pants, transforming the cramped little space into your own tiny garden. As the weeks begin to melt into summer, your little garden transforms into a wildy colourful and delightfully fragranced haven for butterflies and honeybees. You love to curl up on your little bench with a book, relishing the warmth of the sun on your face and the musical buzzing of the bees flitting about your Lantana flowers. Your apartment’s location on the ground floor means that you don’t get a whole load of privacy, but it doesn’t stop you from spending as much time as possible on the balcony beneath your hanging ivy planters.

Another bonus to the ground floor balcony is the cute redhead that wanders past every day at 2pm and then again at around 9pm. You’re not entirely sure when exactly you first noticed the man, but since you’ve moved in he’s become a permanent fixture in your daily routine. In the afternoons when you take a break from working from home and sprawl out amongst the leafy greenery of the balcony, you always catch a glimpse of him. You guess he must work in one of the offices nearby, and judging by the hastily buttoned jacket and wrinkled sweatpants he changes before going on his lunch break.

Every day he walks by, and every day you see him craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your balcony. It’s not uncommon for people to stare, considering your balcony is basically a green splash amongst the dull grey drabness of your apartment building, but unlike all the other curious passers-by, whenever this guy makes eye contact with you when you’re sitting out he’ll make sure to grin widely and wave at you. It’s sweet. You know next to nothing about the guy, other than that he always seems to be in a hurry and he has a smile so bright and toothy it could probably be seen from space, but those little interactions always put you in a good mood for hours afterwards.

After countless days of waves and smiles from a distance, you look up one day to find him grinning and waving yet again, but this time with a new addition. In his hand is a little potted cactus, which he holds up in the air so you can see. 

“It’s for my office!” he yells to you. There’s a shrubbery area right outside your balcony that acts as both decoration and security to prevent anyone from just strolling up and hopping over the railing, but the guy is still standing as close as he can get on the sidewalk.

Your grin spreads slowly as you get up off your little bench and lean over the balcony railing to get a closer look at his little potted plant. “It’s cute!” you call back to him.

He beams, impossibly pleased with himself. “It’s not as impressive as yours!” he gestures at the foliage flowing over the railings and the hanging baskets.

“Everyone has to start somewhere!”

He laughs at that, his nose scrunching up just a little, and then waves at you again before setting off down the street. You watch him go until he disappears from sight, then return to your bench to continue reading. You’re so distracted by that whole little episode that it takes a few minutes for you to realise that your book is upside down.

It was such a short exchange, but after nothing but smiles and waves from afar for so long it leaves you a little dazed. You could kick yourself for not asking what his name was, but you just hadn’t had the time. Besides, you had been a little dazzled by his smile.

The man’s name is Kirishima Eijirou. Since the first day he spoke to you, you’ve bumped into him at the local supermarket several times. He’s friendly, sometimes overwhelmingly so, and really kind. He’s the perfect package wrapped up in the body of a professional cage fighter, so it’s probably inevitable that you develop a big fat crush on him. The two of you have only really exchanged basic pleasantries and small talk, but it’s enough to have your pulse skipping everytime he smiles at you.

The local flower shop is beautifully vibrant compared to the gunmetal grey skies outside, and the quiet warmth of the place makes it one of your favourite places to spend your days off. Hanging baskets full of seasonal flowers and trailing ivy are suspended from the ceiling and from high shelves, and leafy green plants create a jungle-like atmosphere within the shop. The effect is delightfully mismatched, with enormous bouquets of flowers brightening up the spaces along the walls. The high shelves and boundless foliage makes the whole place feel like a maze; you could happily lose yourself for hours upon hours within the humid little aisles.

You trace your fingers along the large waxy leaves of a monstera plant, enjoying the smooth texture. A bell tinkles overhead as the door to the shop opens and shuts, momentarily breaking the soothing blanket of quiet. You contemplate the price tag on the monstera plant; you already have one, and if you buy another you’ll be pretty hard pressed to find space for it. It is really cute though, and you’re pretty sure that if you move your ficus a little more into the left corner of your balcony you can make enough space for it.

Your thought process is broken by a noise from the top of the aisle, and you glance up to meet the gaze of a surprised yet familiar man.. “Oh! Kirishima-san.” you say at the same time as he blurts “Hi!”

Before you can say anything else, his face splits into a smile. “Aw man, I can’t believe you’re here! This is perfect!”

You laugh a little nervously. “Huh?”

“I was hoping to get a new plant for my office! Could you help me pick one out?”

“Oh.” you blink, a little overwhelmed by his exuberance and the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, “I don’t work here.”

He laughs like you’ve just told a really funny joke, and moves to meet you in the middle of the aisle. “Yeah, I know. I’m just guessing that you know your stuff about plants -- your balcony is so awesome.”

“Oh.” you say again, straightening a little despite yourself. You feel ridiculously pleased, probably more than such a simple comment warrants. “Thank you. I worked hard on it.”

“It really shows!” he enthuses. “It actually inspired me to spruce up my office a bit, actually!”

“Really?” you ask, leaning back against one of the shelves. A frond-like leaf tickles the back of your neck, but you don’t bother swatting it away. You think that the two of you might be the only two customers in the shop at this time, and your conversation seems so loud in the relative silence. Somewhere near the back an electric fan buzzes, the noise breaking up the monotonous quiet so it doesn’t seem quite so oppressive. 

“Yeah! So, will you give me a hand?” he tilts his head as he asks, and you realise that his shoulders have dropped down, as if he’s trying to make himself appear smaller. “My friend thinks it’s stupid, but I’m determined to have the nicest desk in the whole building!”

You smile despite yourself, his good humour infectious. “Yeah, okay. Are you looking for something in particular?”

Kirishima steps back and regards the surrounding display cases thoughtfully. “Um. Honestly, I don’t know much about plants. I have my little cactus, but it’d be nice to get it a friend, right? I’m happy to go with whatever you think is best!”

You hum, considering your options. If it’s a small office desk he’s hoping to decorate, you suppose a couple of small succulents could do a nice job of adding a bit of life and colour. “I’m sure we can find something.”

“I’ll leave myself in your capable hands, then.” Kirishima says with a grin, inclining his head a little.

You step further into the shop, ducking under a trailing strand of ivy leaves. The dark hardwood floor creaks as you move, with Kirishima following close behind you. When you pause to gaze at a couple of potted plants on one the shelves you keep your gaze cast down, but glance up through your eyelashes to look at Kirishima. You’re surprised to find him already watching you, like he’s drinking in every move you make. The attention is a little overwhelming, but it’s also exciting. His gaze on you is like a physical weight, and you can’t quite help the coy smile that curves over your face. You know you’re not imagining the soft, heated interest behind his eyes; he’s not exactly being subtle.

You duck into a parallel aisle, just fast enough that Kirishima stumbles for half a step at the sudden change in direction. You hum quietly to yourself, and toss a playful smile over your shoulder as he follows behind you. He meets your smile with another grin, bright and handsome. He doesn’t look away from you for a second.

You come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the aisle and turn to face him. The sudden movement takes him by surprise, but he manages to catch himself before he barrels into you. It’s probably not entirely intentional, but he ends up standing so close that you can almost count the delicate little freckles splashed across the bridge of his nose from the summer sun. His head dips down towards you, leaning into your space in a way that is decidedly more than just casually friendly. His lips part, but before he can speak you ask, “What about this one?”

His gaze drops down to the space between you, where you’re holding up a small plant with waxy little leaves. He blinks at it, and then recovers gracefully. “Hey, that one is pretty cute.”

“‘Pretty cute’s not quite good enough, though, is it?” You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin. “If you want the nicest desk in the whole building, you need better than ‘pretty cute’, right?”

If anything, Kirishima’s smile grows even wider. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You up for the challenge of finding me the best plant in the store?” He steps closer as he speaks, until there’s nothing but a scant few inches and the potted plant between you.

You make a show of considering the challenge, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Hold this for me?” you ask suddenly, practically shoving the plant into his hands.

Kirishima takes it, startled, and in the moment of distraction you turn on your heel and dart down the aisle, disappearing down another row of shelves. You’ve barely turned the corner when you hear a deep, rumbling chuckle followed by quick footsteps against the hardwood floor as he follows after you.

It’s like a game. You wind your way through the aisles, skipping over vines and stray pots, and Kirishima tries to catch up. You know this shop like the back of your hand (you’re in here nearly every single weekend), but Kirishima is fast and agile despite his large stature. There are a few close calls, where you just manage to round the corner of a new aisle before Kirishima can reach you, and each one makes your breath catch in your chest when Kirishima’s delighted laughter rings out through the shop.

You can’t help the grin that stretches across your face as you turn into another half-hidden aisle, ducking under a large fan-like leaf that stretched out and drooped low. Only a moment later you hear a soft slap and an “Oof!” as Kirishima presumably runs straight into it, and you laugh quietly to yourself as you slip in between a row of glass display cases.

A clatter and a soft curse sounds from one aisle over, and you guess that Kirishima just accidentally knocked a pot over. You pad softly to the end of the aisle, taking a moment to try and catch your breath and stifle your wild grin. It’s so childish, playing a game of chase in a garden shop with a man you barely know, but you’re having so much fun.

You poke your head cautiously around the edge of one of the display shelves, biting your lip and listening carefully for any sign of Kirishima. The only noise you can hear is the strained mechanical whirring of the fan from somewhere near the back of the shop, so you edge forward. You’ve only managed to take two steps before you feel a presence behind you.

“Gotcha.” Kirishima rumbles, right by your ear.

The noise that’s punched out of your chest is embarrassing, a weird cross between a yelp and a laugh. You whirl on the ball of your feet to face him, only for him to keep stepping closer. You have no choice but to retreat, until you’re backed up into a little alcove between two large glass display cases overflowing with luscious green ferns. Kirishima advances until he’s as close as he can be without actually touching you, and maybe you should feel a little intimidated by this man that’s built like a brick wall of pure muscle but his smile is so delighted and soft that you don’t think you could be afraid of him if you tried.

“You got me.” You agree, a little breathlessly. You don’t know if it’s from the exertion of running through the shop like a child or from the thrill of Kirishima’s closeness to you, but your heart is thrumming like a wild thing in your chest.

From this close, you can see the way Kirishima’s hair is sweat-damp on his brow and curling just slightly; it must be from the humidity inside the shop, because he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit affected by the physical activity of chasing after you. “You’re fast.” he says, his voice quiet as if afraid to break the atmospheric stillness within the shop.

“Yeah?” you mimic his volume subconsciously, “You sure you don’t just like chasing me? I think you could have caught me earlier, if you wanted.”

Kirishima laughs, and the skin around his eyes crinkle up in the most adorable way you’ve ever seen. “Maybe.” he says, and it sounds like a secret. His teeth are white and sharp and his cheeks dimple when he smiles. You’re distracted by the dimples, so when he raises his hand you barely notice until suddenly there’s a flower right under your nose and your eyes nearly cross in your attempt to look at it. 

“It’s pretty.” You say with a smile. It’s a simple white cosmo flower, though Kirishima is beaming as though he’d managed to find a particularly rare gem, and you don’t get a chance to take it from him before he tucks it neatly behind your ear.

“It’s like you.” He says. The words are flirtatious, but he delivers them so earnestly that you don’t quite know how to react.

“How about a potted ivy?” you blurt, at a loss for anything else to say. “It would be easy to take care of, and it looks good.”

Kirishima blinks, but takes the change of subject in stride. “Is that your professional recommendation?”

“Mhmm.” It’s hard to focus when he’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across your skin every time he speaks. You’re sure he must be picking up on how flustered he’s making you -- you’re not convinced by the innocent expression on his face. “Maybe a few succulents, too.”

Kirishima nods thoughtfully, consideringly. “Hmmm. That sounds good to me. Will you go out to dinner with me?”

It’s such a non-sequitur that it takes your brain a long moment to register his words. “I- huh?” 

His dimpled smile turns bashful and a little self-conscious. “Ah. Sorry, that might have been a little forward.” He scratches the back of his head, and your gaze is drawn to the way his bicep bulges at the movement. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner with me? I know a place that does some really great burrito bowls.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Kirishima-san?” Your words come out soft and quiet and effortlessly flirtatious -- you hadn’t intended on sounding so seductive, but you can’t help but enjoy the way Kirishima leans in closer to you.

“Yeah. No pressure if you don’t wanna, of course!” He’s quick to reassure you, “It’s totally fine if you’re not interested. I just wanted to let you know that I am very interested.”

As refreshing as his straight-forwardness is, you can’t help but feel surprised. This man is very much out of your league, you’re not blind, and yet he had been the one to approach you, and had indulged in your silly game of chase around the shop, and had playfully cornered you in an alcove and asked you out. You’ve met him enough by now to know he’s kind, friendly, and eager to help with just about anything you ask. Plus, he’s practically built like a Greek god, with a handsome face and the most stacked muscles you’ve ever seen in person.

“I’m interested.” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. God, you really hoped this wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke. 

Kirishima seems to actually inflate at that, a bright smile blooming across his face as his shoulders straighten. “Really? Great! Awesome! Tonight?”

“Sure.” you agree, returning his smile. Your heart rate still hasn’t returned to normal from your chase around the shop; if anything, it feels like it’s pounding harder than ever. “I’m free tonight.”

“Great!” Kirishima says again. He seems more excited than you would have expected, which is honestly pretty flattering since you’re pretty sure you’re the one that should be feeling the most excited in this situation. “I have to go back to work since I’m technically on my lunch break right now, but I could pick you up at your apartment at around eight tonight?”

“Eight is perfect.” you straighten the flower behind your ear and smile up at him, letting your own excitement shine through on your face.

Kirishima steps back, finally giving you some space. You forcefully resist the urge to follow after him, watching instead as he backs away, still beaming. “Okay. Okay, cool. So, I’ll see you tonight?”

You let him go a few more steps before tilting your head and asking, “So, you changed your mind about the plants?”

He pauses, one foot raised mid-step like a cartoon character. “Plan-?” he starts, before his eyes go comically wide, “Oh! The plants! Right!”

You laugh, finding him stupidly endearing, before stepping out of the little alcove and setting off down one of the aisles to the left. There’s a whole section of the shop dedicated solely to the house plants, and it’s not difficult to find a suitable ivy plant with light green leaves and tumbling vines. Kirishima takes the potted plant when you hand it to him, and trails after you again as you go in search of the succulents. When you’ve found some suitable little plants, you help him carry them up to the counter with the cash register. There’s no one manning the register (and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief at that, because it means that no one saw the two of you running through the shop like idiots), and you ring the little bell to notify the employees that you’re at the counter. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say, stepping away from the counter as an employee finally emerges from the back of the shop. “See you tonight?”

Kirishima fumbles with the plants in his hands as he tries to wave. “Tonight! Yeah!”

The bell tinkles as you duck out the shop door, biting your lip to try and stifle your excited grin.

//

You look in the mirror yet again, tugging nervously at your clothes. You look pretty good, you think, but the closer it gets to eight the more nervous you get. You realised too late that you never exchanged phone numbers, and Kirishima doesn’t know which number apartment to buzz from the front door. You focus on staying calm and not overthinking things; it’s just a date, with the most handsome man you’ve ever actually spoken to. No big deal. It’s fine.

You tug on your shirt again, even though it’s sitting pretty much perfectly. You just lean forward to check your teeth when a crash sounds from your balcony. You jerk towards the crash automatically, and race out to open the doors to the balcony. You’re greeted with the sight of Kirishima with one leg over the balcony railing, staring dismally down at the shattered pot that he apparently just knocked over.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurts as soon as he sees you, “It was an accident! I didn’t know your apartment number to buzz the door and so I thought I’d just knock on the door to your balcony but I didn’t see the pot and- wow, you look really good!”

You wave away his frantic apologies with a laugh as you step over the spilled dirt. “Don’t worry about it. You look pretty good, too.” Your eyes drop to where he’s hiding his hands behind his back. “What have you got there?”

Kirishima hikes his other leg over the railing and drops to his feet, before pulling his arms out from behind him and revealing a large bouquet of beautiful white and pink lilies. “I got these for you.” he says, a pink blush dusted over his cheekbones. “I know you, uh, like flowers and plants and things. I don’t know much about them, but I thought they were pretty!”

Your whole face softens, and you reach out to take the bouquet. They are pretty, with delicate pink-streaked white petals and long, dainty stems. Pollen drops from them at every movement, sprinkling into the air in delicate yellow puffs. “They’re beautiful! Thank you.”

When you glance up at him you find that his attention is caught by the side of your head, his own smile softening. “You kept it?”

You touch the cosmo flower still tucked behind your ear, a little embarrassed. It had seemed like a cute idea to keep it and wear it for the date, but now you wonder if it’s a little weird. “Yeah. Like you said, it’s pretty, right?”

“Yeah.” he agrees. His gentle pink blush has intensified into a deep red. “Very pretty.”

You look back down at your lilies, still smiling. You feel so pleased, like all your nerves are being melted away only to be replaced by excited anticipation. “Your office must be really close by if you had the time to grab these before getting here.”

“It’s right around the corner,” he points towards the end of the street, “But, uh. My boss actually let me go early today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I, uh-” His blush, impossibly, seems to intensify further. “I’ve been talking about you for a while, I guess. Telling people about your awesome balcony and stuff, and how nice you are whenever I meet you. I didn’t actually realise how much I mentioned you, but, uh, when I told Fat that I had asked you out, he pretty much told me to get outta there and come straight to get you.” 

You laugh, pleasantly embarrassed yourself. “Wow. That’s… that’s really sweet.” A thought intrudes on the back of your mind, suddenly, and you frown a little. He said his boss's name was Fat? Office around the corner? “Wait. You work at Fat Gum’s Hero Agency?”

“Yep!” He flexes one of his biceps playfully; you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your head. “I’m a sidekick there! ”

“Wow.” you say, gaze stuck on his muscled arm. “That- well. That explains- I mean, you have a very nice body.” Oh god, you think, cursing yourself. Why had you said that?

Kirishima flushes from the roots of his hair to his chest. You can’t help but grin, his bashfulness impossibly charming. “Oh! Thanks! I work out a lot.” he chuckles, shrugging as if it’s nothing.

You’re still grinning as you look at his rosy face, your eyes dropping to his red-flushed chest. His very red-flushed chest. “Uh.” you glance to his neck, where the skin is an angry crimson colour. “Kirishima-san?”

“Yeah?” The sun is dropping low in the sky, and the golden sunset throws buttery yellow-toned light all over your balcony. It lights up Kirishima’s profile in warm relief, and makes you wonder if you’re maybe imagining the colour you’re seeing.

“Are you okay? You have- I think you have a rash?”

“Huh?” He drops his chin to his sternum, trying to get a look at what you’re seeing. When he tugs his shirt down, it reveals angry red lines streaking down his chest. “Oh. Yikes.”

Your mouth drops open. “That.. looks painful.”

“It’s more itchy, really.” He admits, poking at the patch of ruddy skin. His head snaps up, eyes wide, and he quickly adds, “This doesn’t usually happen! I don’t usually have, uh, whatever this is!”

That definitely isn’t as comforting as he’s clearly hoping it will be. “Um. Kirishima, do you feel weird right now?”

“A little? I think I’m just nervous for our date, though.” He shifts on his feet and reaches up to scratch at his throat. “Just a little itchy. My throat feels a bit weird. I think it’s nerves.”

The angry red rash climbing up his chest and throat suggests that it’s not just nerves. “Does your throat feel… swollen?”

“Kinda?” 

Your gaze drops to the flowers in your arms. The breeze shakes loose another little cloud of pollen from them, which floats into the air in a little puff of yellow dust. “Did this start after you got the flowers?”

“I guess!” Kirishima says, clearly not following.

“Oh.” You stare at each other. Kirishima still hasn’t quite caught on to the logical conclusion of these questions. Now that you’re looking at him closely, you’re pretty sure his face looks a little puffier than usual. “I think you’re having an allergic reaction.”

Kirishima blinks, then looks to the flowers in your arms. His hand scratches idly at the base of his throat, which is now a raw and angry red. “Oh. Oh, I see. Huh.” You might be imagining it, but his voice sounds a little thicker now.

“I think we should go to the hospital.” You set down the lilies on your garden bench and usher him into your apartment. You haven’t had time to tidy up, but you’re past the point of caring about cleanliness. Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice anyway, as his face has fallen.

“What about dinner?” He asks, obviously disappointed, and yep, his voice has definitely gotten thicker. It sounds like his throat is swelling.

You try not to panic. “We can get food after the hospital!”

Kirishima actually has the nerve to pause and think about it. “Are you sure? I don’t feel that bad, and I really want to take you somewhere nice.”

It’s hard not to feel flattered at that. “I really appreciate that, Kirishima. I would feel a lot better if we got you checked out before dinner, though. I think the date would go better if you weren’t on the brink of anaphylactic shock.”

Kirishima concedes at that, and lets you call a taxi. As you stand on the sidewalk waiting for the taxi to arrive, he sighs and tilts his head. “This is embarrassing. I can’t believe I finally ask you out only for it to be ruined by some stupid flowers.”

“Hey,” you bump him with your hip, but it’s like hip-checking a boulder. You wince and rub at your hip bone as you say, “The flowers were beautiful, and a really lovely thought. Plus, I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while now. One little bump in the road isn’t gonna chase me away, okay?”

“Really?”

You tug him over so you can press a chaste, tentative kiss to his cheek. “Really.”

“I’m gonna make sure when this is over that I bring you on the most unforgettable date ever!” In the light of the setting sun, Kirishima is lit up golden. He grins, gilded and bright, and even with his puffy face and swollen throat, you think he might just be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

“I think that you’ve already accomplished that.” you say delicately as you spot your taxi rounding the corner of the street, “Maybe our next date should be a little more uneventful.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughs, sounding like his throat is full of cotton balls, “Maybe uneventful is best. But you basically just agreed to go on another date with me, right?”

You suppose you have to be impressed by his determination, if nothing else. You’re not used to being the focus of someone’s attention like this, especially not someone on the brink of a medical emergency. It’s… flattering. “Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe next time we should leave the flowers, though.”

“No flowers.” Kirishima agrees, then chuckles. 

You think his swollen, puffy smile might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

[ohsh-arat]

Domestic (Head)canons

Note: ahhhh very first post headcanons/canon post of my ocs because I love them! Lowkey this helps me remember little things about them since my brain is rusty as hell (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) also there’s a lot of silly canons and some involve with reader <3

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————————————————————————————————————————

— Kunio Omezo —

☀︎︎ As an assassin, he’s been going through missions to missions nonstop; but the thing is with him, if you text him ‘there’s no food at home’; straight up Door Dash to your front door all bloody,,, while holding bag of fast foods in hand. A mission wouldn’t stop him from bringing you food.

☀︎︎ Kunio has the habit to switch from English to Japanese when he’s frustrated. But when he’s really pissed off he would really bring out his native language and sprinkle in English in the most aggressive way (But he mostly a cool head man so no need to worry about him).

☀︎ ︎But if he ends up being frustrations or depress, he would workout or bake right at home. He tried drawing and painting but that ended horribly for him since he can’t do artsy stuff (just for experience yknow?).

☀︎ He has this habit where he would fiddle his thumbs together when he’s excited. It’s honestly cute because a cold and deadly assassin with a stoic demeanor, fiddling his thumbs just out of excitement.

☀︎︎ Highkey enjoys his hair getting all ruffled up. Just the feeling of someone just semi aggressive rubbing his head makes him oddly relax in a way. But also slow head strokes would make him melt even more (bonus if he ‘purrs’).

☀︎︎ Kunio… Oh Kunio… he has a thing for fluffy things (but in secret). Wondering where he went? Just check the bedroom and congratulation! You found him in a cocoon of extra fluffy blankets. But once he walks up seeing you stand there in amaze and awe, he would be very embarrassed.

☀︎︎ “you better not tell anyone about this...”

☀︎︎ He got himself the best voice when it comes to singing, I mean he loves to sing though he’s a little embarrassed to do it in front of others. But he’s 100% down to sing you to sleep!

☀︎︎ His skin care routine is unbeatable, he spends more time in the bathroom way more than probably any guys. He likes to make himself look presentable and just having the slightest bump would irritate the crap out of him. So if you or anyone walk into the living room seeing Kunio on the couch just sitting there his hair slicked back with those headbands and clay mask on his face; he would look honestly unfazed for someone walking in.

☀︎︎ Kunio was thinking about owning a pet but… it was proven difficult because of his job as an assassin so he subsitute that idea with a house plant instead! He owns a aloe vera plant and monstera deliciosa (Swiss cheese plant). He named them Alen (Aloe) and Wendy (Swiss) for fun.

☀︎︎ He has a very strong sweet tooth, his favorite sweets are mochi! (A bonus if they’re animal shaped mochi because it’s a very special memory connected to his mom). He could go on for days eating sweets after sweets but he rather avoid diabetes.

☀︎︎ But hey, it you like sweets as well then say less, Kunio would drop some store bought sweets from your favorite local shop or even homemade sweets from him!

☀︎︎ Kunio wouldn’t consider himself the best cook but just hanging out and cook together would make him happy. But when it comes to baking, oh man you summoned the baking god. Seriouly though, he grew up baking sweets and treats with his mom so don’t be surprised to see some cute bakery sweets come out all great looking!

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— Owen Fitzgerald —

☀︎︎ Owen a big ass cuddle bug, I mean he loves hugging people in general but just cuddling— it makes him so giddy inside (imagine a dog wagging its tail)

☀︎︎ He own one of those soft LED animal night light as a source of light for reading and having a friend as well! (His little friend is a LED Dino that can changes colors)

☀︎︎ When he was introduce to snacks like gold fish, pringles, pocky, gummy bears, etc. he became addicted; just discover a stash of snacks under his coat or even hoodies (if he switch to casual attire) and he’ll start sprinting to his room.

☀︎︎ “No! You are not taking my mini meals” *sprints off*

☀︎︎ Tech stuff obviously wasn’t a thing back in the 19th century, when he was introduced to futuristic, cutting edge technologies; it literally blew his brain into pieces (also fried some of his brain cells since explaining was covered under seconds). Couple months back when he discover Tik Tok, he can’t stop himself from being on that app and…. he accidentally got himself famous :)

☀︎︎ trashbin8 baby~ *wink wink*

☀︎︎ “🎤sawarasenai🥰kimi😸wa⛓shoujo👻na💅no✨böKù🌸Wâ🧚ÿARiçHiñ🤴BįCChī😾ńO😩oSû🚣Dà🎉YO💦”

☀︎ ︎Someone take Tik Tok away from him and don’t let him search up what the lyric mean ;nervous;

☀︎︎ No doubt Owen would be super invested in memes and will probably send either extremely wholesome or extremely curse memes at 3am because he loves you <3 (there’s no between).

☀︎︎ After spending weeks and weeks with his phone, he might have develop some a taste for lofi music. He couldn’t help himself but it really helped him read, write, or even just chilling.

☀︎︎ Talk about chilling, you would find him sitting outside on top of a roof and just soaking up the sunlight as the sun sets. Sometimes he’ll ask to join him and hey guess what, he bring snacks and drinks as well.

☀︎︎ Honestly loves tackling people for some reason (as a playful thing ofc) but he’s also ticklish as well ;eyes; if you get yourself in that situation, just tickle his waist and he’ll become a tea kettle. The more you tickle him the more he’ll laugh but also plea for mercy (and a bit of sobbing action).

☀︎︎ Tbh if you spare him... Owen would really say ’Peace was never an option’ and straight up tackle you again as a payback

☀︎︎ Owen reads old literature like A Study in Scarlet, Atlanta in Calydon, and The Ordeal of Richard Feverel. But he grew invested into reading manga, then later into watching Anime.

☀︎︎ ”This is way more entertaining than all the books i’ve been reading my entire life!?” *display the book as he flip through all the pages*

☀︎︎ what a chaotic man he is

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Note: I think I could do better but I’m too tired to think at the moment🏃🏻‍♀️💨

[agilenano]

Agilenano - News: Kind Dog Leash Holder

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Agilenano - News from Agilenano from shopsnetwork (4 sites) https://agilenano.com/blogs/news/kind-dog-leash-holder

[aabyni]

So, Miami was interesting.

I accidentally booked a hotel in the middle of all the loud bars and restaurants so things weren’t off to a great start. The hotel hallway stunk of weed, you’d occasionally hear the other guests being intoxicated, and people in sports cars would rev their engines in the middle of the night. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against people having fun. Hell, if I was with my friends and not my dad, I’d probably one of those people dancing in the streets while slurring some terrible pop song. It just wasn’t the right place for a father and daughter trying to bond together.

The food was also ridiculously expensive, but nothing was actually of any high quality? We went to this healthy, fresh restaurant and I was excited since they offered lots of veggie options. It was in the nicer part of South Beach so we had high expectations. Our breakfast cost us $40 and it was just...normal? Back at the cafe, we could’ve had two Full English Breakfasts and a coffee each for around £20/$25 and it would’ve been made with love, too. While I was eating my avocado toast I couldn’t help but think maybe that Australian millionaire was right, maybe I should actually put this towards a deposit instead because at least I’ll have a small house where I can make a better avocado toast instead of this emptiness I feel inside me because of unsatisfying food!!! Okay, a bit dramatic. I honestly don’t mind spending lots of money on food as long as it’s damn good. It’s truly upsetting to be excited and/or spend big money on mediocre, if not terrible, food. (Such a #firstworldproblem, I’m sorry.)

Anyway, on to better things. Thankfully a place like the Miami Beach Botanical Gardens existed. It gave us the peace and quiet we longed for. When we arrived, we were greeted by a ponds filled with fish and turtles. There was a little dispenser you can buy food from and feed them with. My dad was having fun giving those lil guys some food and it made me happy to see him so relaxed. There was a lovely old lady called Martha who pointed out this massive catfish and was telling us we can slowly put the food on the water so it would swim up and we can pet it. I have never pet a fish before and this big guy was sweet, he really would come up to you to get some strokes. There were also really small lizards and frogs running allover the place but they always worry me a little because I’m afraid someone would step on them and kill them.

The garden was truly magical. Listening to this would have heightened my experience. The north of England is nowhere near tropical so seeing all the plants really thriving and flourishing was almost emotional for me. I felt like proud mother, seeing all of them doing so well, not doing anything illegal or getting anyone pregnant and getting good grades at Plant University. There were monstera deliciosa leaves that were bigger than my torso and countless massive air plants that could eat my tiny air plant baby back home. For a brief moment I considered living there, working with Martha, getting Cuban coffee before work, then drinking some Modelo after work. But I could feel my butt was wet from sweating so much in the heat so I’ll probably give that a pass? Maybe if they paid me with enough avocados I’ll consider it.

Oh man, I look forward to having my own garden with a pond and filling my home with lots of plants.

PS: Sorry this post is a bit scatter-brained. I don’t really write.