#ivys sapling

[artharakka]

On aivan kuin vihreää näkyisi enemmän kuin eilen. Sen täytyy olla omaa mielikuvitustani. On vielä liian varhaista. Vaitonaisena Maa kiipeää korkeammalle, virheetön, pyöreä vesipisara, jossa on kaikki: jokainen mennyt päivä ja tuleva. Tältä etäisyydeltä siinä ei näy ainuttakaan arpea. Minusta näyttää, että jos ojentaisin käteni, voisin silittää sen pintaa, silittää sen uudelleen uneen. Sormiini jäisi veden ja maan himmeä hohde, joka viipyisi, kun myöhemmin nukahtaisin huoneessani käsi posken alla. Kenties herättyäni löytäisin häiveen siitä kasvoiltani, kuin muiston, tai kuivuneen kyyneleen. — Emmi Itäranta. Kuunpäivän kirjeet

* * *

It is almost like there is more green today than there was yesterday. It must be my own imagination. It is still too early. Silently, Earth is rising higher, a flawless, round drop of water that holds everything within: each day past and future. From this distance, there isn’t a single scar visible. To me it seems that if I reached out my hand, I could stroke its surface, caress it back to sleep. The faint glow of water and earth would remain on my fingertips, and it would linger there, when I would later fall asleep in my room my hand under my cheek. Perhaps, when I would wake up, I would find a trace of it on my face, like a memory, or a dried tear. — Emmi Itäranta. The Moonday Letters. Quote tranlated by me (unofficial)

[shyjusticewarrior]

Characters I Want To Appear In Poison Ivy (2022-Current)

Hazel, Rose, and Thorn

Red Hood

Miracle Molly

The Gardener- I know Bella has appeared in flashbacks in earlier issues, but I'd love to see some closure for her and Ivy.

[momentosofmelancholy]

my babies are getting so big 🥰 everyone else has died 💔 but peewee and fletcher continue on 😭💕

[ectoentity]

Ectoplasm Gives You Wings - Flying Lesson

New scene for this fic! This one is a bit of a doozy: nearly 3k words just for one scene.

Masterpost/Subscription Post for this fic.

DPxDC, T-rated Genfic

Context: This scene is the second time Danny has met Red Hood.

The problem with a city like Gotham - or at least this part of it - was that there were very few open spots away from prying eyes. Even rooftops often had cameras near the access door, or looking over from the next building over. Danny got that people here were paranoid about crime and potential supervillain attacks. He didn't blame them. He just wished he had somewhere private to practice flying.

After weeks of searching, he finally found something. There was a corner of one park that looked like it had been allowed to grow wild for years. The remnants of a half-collapsed pavilion were completely overgrown with vines and flowers. There were even skinny saplings growing out of what might have once been a sandbox. People didn't go there. Danny couldn’t find any cameras aimed at it. This was as close to privacy as he could get.

Danny found a stump that was about two feet tall and stood on top of it. He spread out his wings. The muscles ached as he stretched them, too used to being folded close against his back. Danny awkwardly flapped them. It felt a bit ridiculous. He knew the basic physics of how flight worked. The air underneath the wing moved more slowly than the air on top of it, creating a pressure differential that caused lift. He just wasn't sure how that translated to flapping. Did he have to lean a certain way to get the right angle?

"Come on, Fenton. Bird brains do this every day. It can't be that hard."

He crouched down on the stump, wings arched over himself. Then he leapt into the air. He desperately flapped his wings downward. For a moment it actually worked. Instead of falling, he stayed where he was. Half a second later, the sensation was gone. Danny tilted to the side and hit the ground with a heavy thump.

"Ow."

Someone laughed. Danny shot up in an instant and spun to the source of the noise. A tall woman with red hair and green skin leaned against one of the pavilion's remaining pillars. Danny instantly knew why this part of the park was overgrown.

"You're not the kind of bird I expected to find out here," Poison Ivy said with a faint smile.

"I. Uh, I am really sorry, Ms. Ivy. I didn’t realize this was your park. I'll just..." Danny edged back towards his backpack. Poison Ivy rolled her eyes.

"As long as you don’t hurt the plants, you're fine. Stay away from the red flowers if you like keeping your limbs."

Danny stared at Poison Ivy. "What. Really? You're not gonna murder me for stepping on the grass?"

"Nature is more resilient than you think. If you get too rough, you'll get one warning." She smiled at him. Danny didn't know if that was good or not.

"My friend thinks you're cool," he blurted out when he couldn't think of anything to say. "In junior high she got detention for wearing a Justice for Ivy shirt she made. She's like. Extra-Vegan or something? I don't really get it, but she's really into environmentalism and stuff." The words sounded lame to his ears, so Danny couldn't imagine how dumb he must sound to the supervillain. Her eyebrows raised for a bit, looking a bit surprised, and then her face shifted to a muted frown.

"Well, I'm glad to know there are some children with sense." It looked like she was going to say something else, but her gaze was caught by something in the sky. Now that Danny was listening, he could hear the sound of wings. He wasn’t terribly surprised when Red Hood landed in front of them.

"Two visitors in a day? What a surprise." Ivy didn't smile at Hood, but she didn't seem like she was about to attack him either.

"You're a popular lady," Hood said. "How've you been, Ivy?"

"Just tending to my garden, keeping some rodents on their toes. I'm sure I can find something to keep you busy if you're bored."

Ivy's words were sharp, threatening in a way they hadn’t been when she was talking to Danny. He started to slowly edge his way closer to his backpack. If they were about to fight Danny didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

"Mask's keeping me busy enough, thanks," Red Hood answered. His head moved to keep track of Danny. Shit.

Apparently Ivy noticed it too. She smirked, her posture relaxing. "Oh, I see. Are you starting a little flock of your own?"

"Hell no," Danny sputtered at the same time that Hood said "Cut it, Isley." For some reason that only made Ivy smile more. Were they enemies or friends? Danny couldn't tell what was going on.

"You ought to teach your baby bird how to fly before he gets eaten, Hood."

"Hey! I'm not doing that bad."

"You landed on your face," Poison Ivy, the superpowered ecoterrorist with a doctorate, tattled. Red Hood snorted.

"I was about to offer," he said. "Sorry for trying to be polite."

Danny reached his bag and picked it up, but didn't put it on. Putting it on over his wings without going intangible was a frustrating task, and he wanted to be able to run if he had to. "I can figure it out on my own. I don’t need a babysitter."

"Do I look like a babysitter, kid?" Red Hood drawled. He dropped his hands to his sides with the palms facing Danny, as if to emphasize the twin pistols holstered at his waist. It would be a fair point to anyone whose parents didn’t regularly work on ray guns at the dinner table, Danny supposed. "I just wanna make sure you know how to get out of trouble. If you can't fly, all those things do is make you a bigger target."

Danny glared at him. That blank helmet didn't give away any indication of what Hood was thinking or how honest he was being. If there was anything he'd learned in the last few weeks, it was that good things usually came with a catch.

"For what it's worth," Poison Ivy interjected, "you're safer with Hood around than most other places in this city."

Oh great, the supervillains were teaming up against him.

"Do you offer to tutor all the homeless kids you find, or just the ones that remind you of yourself?" Danny spat. He didn't want some fruit loop in a helmet projecting on him. Poison Ivy burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Red Hood seemed to sigh.

"I do tutor kids, actually," he grumbled. "You should come by the community center on Seventh sometime."

That caught Danny off guard. He had seen that there was a community center there, but he wasn't sure whether it was another place that would hand him back to his parents. If Red Hood was involved with it, maybe they wouldn't. Who cared about catching a runaway kid when the area's murderous gang boss was there?

"Fine," Danny said. "But we're staying here. Uh, if that's okay with you, ma'am." He belatedly looked to Poison Ivy for her approval. Danny might not entirely trust Poison Ivy, but he figured it was better to stay here than to follow Red Hood off somewhere else. Ivy had recovered from her laughing fit. She looked over at Red Hood with narrowed eyes and slightly pursed lips, thinking it over.

"As long as you both behave, you're welcome to stay."

"Thank you, Ms. Ivy."

"I promise not to step on your murder begonias," Red Hood said. Instead of being angry, Ivy just rolled her eyes.

"I'll leave you boys to it." Poison Ivy waved at them as she walked off, the branches of trees closing to block the path off behind her.

"She's a lot less murder happy than I expected," Danny commented when he figured she might be out of hearing range.

"Ivy isn't as scary evil as a lot of media claims," Red Hood said. "She won't hesitate to feed you to her plants if you come out here with a hatchet, though." He shrugged and started taking off his heavy jacket. Now that Danny was looking, he could tell it wasn't a normal jacket that he'd just cut the back out of. It was made with holes for his wings, and the fabric between the lower part of his wings and the bottom of the jacket buttoned together to look a bit like a normal jacket. Red Hood undid all the buttons before pulling the whole thing up off his wings. Danny was a bit jealous. He'd had to cut holes in his clothes, and it was a struggle to get them on right.

"Alright, kid, spread your wings out?"

Hesitantly, Danny did as he was told. He still wasn't used to seeing the limbs stretch out on the edges of his vision. Danny himself had only really gotten a good look at them once. He'd taken a nap in a mall fitting room not long after getting off the bus in Gotham. There he'd been able to take a look at his wings in the store's large mirrors. They were mostly white, with black on the lower edge of the wing. There were black lines higher up in three rows, each progressively more spotty. The pattern was the same on the back as on the front. If not for the fact that they'd gotten him chased out of his home, Danny would almost think they were pretty.

Red Hood circled around him, looking his wings over. Danny didn't know what he was looking for. Other than having wings in the first place, Danny didn't think there was anything unusual about them.

"Okay, first lesson," Red Hood said. "There are different kinds of wings. They're good for different things." He spread out his left wing all the way. "What can you tell about the shape?"

"Uh... other than big?" Danny looked back at his own wing and tried to compare it. What if he thought about them like plane wings? He knew a little bit about how those worked, and there were different types for different jobs."Yours are really long and wide. I know in planes long, skinny wings are better for distance flights, but wider wings have less drag."

"Huh. Good thinking." The gang boss sounded almost impressed. "Yeah, in birds it's something similar. Big rectangular wings are good for long, slow soaring. They've got a lot of surface area so it's easier to take off than if they were skinny. So, what do you see with yours?"

Danny nodded and considered his own wings. Now that he was looking at them, it was obvious they weren't proportioned the same. Danny’s wings were shorter, more rounded than rectangular. He couldn’t think of any planes with round wings like that.

"So mine are, what, less good at soaring?"

"That's one thing," Hood said. "But they're more maneuverable. Think of it like being an acrobat when I'm a marathon runner."

That was neat, Danny had to admit. He liked the idea of doing cool aerial tricks. That would at least make this crappy wing situation a little more bearable. Except...

"I need to get into the air first."

"We're getting to that." Red Hood opened his other wing. "Alright, I'm gonna show you how I take off in slow motion and explain what I'm doing."

Danny wasn't sure how that would work, but he nodded and watched.

"First, I lean over a bit, but not enough to make me unbalanced." Hood did so, and bent his knees a bit. "Then raise up your wings as straight up as you can." Danny watched Hood stretch his wings up, up, taller than any person could stand. "When you do your down-stroke, it's not directly down. Imagine it more like you're trying to make your wings into scoops and push the air down and away." Slowly, carefully, Hood's wings lowered. Like he said, they went more forward than down. The wingtips stretched out in front of Hood, feathers fanned out as wide as they could.

"Okay," Danny said. "I think I can do that."

Danny crouched a bit, then raised his wings straight up above him. It was kind of like stretching an arm, but it moved differently. Then Danny flapped his wings like Red Hood had demonstrated. Instantly he could feel the difference. Air caught under his wings, forcing the rest of his body up. His feet left the ground. It felt amazing. Danny almost cheered, but he realized the one flap wouldn't keep him up for long. Danny's white feathers came up for another stroke.

Instantly he hit resistance. It felt almost like his wing slipped under the air pocket it had been above before. Danny swore as his feet hit the ground and he stumbled to his knees.

"You got some air that time," Red Hood commented helpfully. "Do you know what went wrong?"

"If I knew I wouldn't have done it," Danny snapped. He was suddenly struck by how weird this situation was. A couple months ago Danny's biggest concern was keeping away from Dash when he was near a locker. Now he was getting flying lessons from the Red Hood, of all people. The guy was a crazy gangster who'd decapitated people. He'd killed the Joker. Half of Gotham talked about him like he was a monster.

But then again, Danny thought, maybe that wasn't the whole story. Ivy was supposed to be a monster, too, and she'd just treated him like a normal adult would. Danny's parents had thought...

He shuddered, forcing his thoughts back to the present. Hood was looking at him silently with his head tilted slightly to the side.

"You alright there, fledgling?"

"Would you stop calling me that?" Danny folded his arms and tried to think about how it had felt when he tried to fly. "When I tried to bring my wings up, it felt like I hit a bunch of resistance, and then I slipped."

"You kept your wings wide open when you brought them up for another flap," Hood explained. "You gotta fold the primaries in a little bit, or you'll be fighting against the air above your wing." He stretched out one wing and demonstrated by halfway folding his wing, just the first part with the largest feathers.

Danny groaned. "How do birds make this look so easy?"

Red Hood chuckled. The sound was really ominous with his helmet's weird voice filter. "The birds that don't fly get eaten." For a moment Hood gestured like he was going to say something else, but then he stilled. "Shit."

"Uh. Should I run?"

The Red Hood shook his head. "Sorry, pollito, there's something I gotta go take care of. If you want, I can meet back here in a couple nights for another lesson."

"Why?" The word was out of his mouth before Danny could think. "I don't get why you're so worried about helping me. I'm not even from here."

Instead of making another stupid joke, Red Hood stepped towards him. Danny took half a step back on instinct, and Red Hood stopped. "Look, kid. Danny. I don't care where you're from. The minute you started sleeping on my streets, you became someone I'm here to protect, alright?"

Danny wanted to roll his eyes and make some flippant comment about capes, but he couldn't. There was something real in those words. Some kind of gut feeling told him that Red Hood was being absolutely honest. He didn't know what to do with that.

"Yeah. Okay."

Hood watched him squirm for another moment before he went and picked his jacket off the overgrown picnic table. It took him a minute to slide it back on and do up the buttons on the back. Danny was still kind of jealous of how easy it looked.

"Keep practicing, pollito. I'll be back in two days." He leapt into the air and took one huge wingbeat to clear the trees. Showoff.

Danny watched him go, trying to take note of how Red Hood moved his wings in the air so he could practice it. Then his brain caught up to something.

"What the hell is a pollito?"

[angel-gone-south]

i have a request for gn!reader who js eats everything after seeing my brothers doing this. Most common stuff bein like playdoh, orbeez, or flowers w craig, tweek and maybe some of the main kids? probably would make more sense if they all were 4th graders? (srry if its too much, like ur stuff and saw reqs were open!)

Main 5 + Craig and Those Guys w/ Reader Who Eats Everything!

my friend used to do this. i think its a disorder? pica iirc anyway TYSM FOR UR REQ 4th grade reader + boys

【☆】★【☆】

Eric Cartman

hey what are u doing

hey that's not food, you idiot

makes fun of you for it

but secretly keeps an eye on what goes in

berates you extra hard when its something extra bad

brings you snacks sometimes so you don't put bad shit in your mouth

if you question him about it "mom packed too much"

Kyle Broflovski

no!! no no!!!

lectures you like a mom

brings you chew stims or snacks when he can

has to practically keep you on a leash

jesus christ he does the thing where he pinches the bridge of his nose when he gets annoyed

enjoys your presence but you stress him out deeply!

Stan Marsh

bets you you can't swallow it (if it's safe)

holds your hand in a death grip so you can't run off and get into something really bad

steals his sister's mints and gum so you can have it

sometimes you gnaw on his arm

he pats your head while you do

thinks you're MAD WEIRD but loves u fr

Kenny McCormick

dude he does it too a lot

if he doesn't think it's safe he eats it first

has died a lot this way

doesn't mind though if it keeps you safe

would let you chew on him but he's a bit stinky so you don't

he steals you dog toys as a joke but you actually use them

flattered but laughs at you

Butters Stotch

oh golly

please dont eat those

he worries so bad

:[

makes you the stuff that's like playdough but edible

has chew stims out the wazoo

lets you chew on his sleeve and then wails about the wetness

he doesn't actually mind though

Craig Tucker

pays you to do it

laughs when you hate the taste of something

"your fault for putting it in your mouth, idiot."

he's right tbh but you still pout about it

has so many pictures of you putting random shit near your mouth

taken seconds before he snatched them away from you

his sister eggs you on

he yells at her for it and then also eggs you on

Tweek Tweak

oh god oh god please don't!!

screams when he catches you

you've got this boy practically ripping his hair out

worried about even the smallest things

he can't stand to watch but also feels inclined to (to keep you safe)

learns the Heimlich just because of you

bought books upon books of what flowers, bugs, and plants are ok to eat

it keeps him up at night

Jimmy Valmer

always cracking jokes

definitely thinks you should be more careful though

will learn about it (not to the tweek extent)

tries some stuff with you like wild blackberries

one time you guys ate gingko sapling

boy, the bitter taste would NOT come out!

Tolkien Black

while he thinks it's cute, he will urge you to stop

whenever the boys catch you doing it clyde goes "aw, momma's gonna be mad"

then turns to tolkien

eye rolls are given in return as he stops you from consuming literal poison ivy

gives you gum and chewy stimmies

holds you by the shirt collar when you run to grab something

Clyde Donovan

silly goose

honest to god makes bets with craig on if you will (tw) throw up or not

bites you back if you bite him

eats certain things with you

you both got sick from eating marigolds once

his mom was not very happy with you

but the days next to each other in the hospital room were fun

you ate flowers less after that

[its-to-the-death]

Propaganda for "Mother Knows Best": the entire song is such a fucked up display of Gothel manipulating, undermining, and abusing Rapunzel while couching it in a facade of love. I'll break it down:

[MOTHER GOTHEL, spoken] You want to go outside? Why, Rapunzel...

Pretends to consider the request, then slams the window shut, closing off the outside world. Look at you, as fragile as a flower Still a little sapling, just a sprout

Infantilizes her by calling her fragile and tiny. Furthermore, likens her to a flower, tying into how she's important because she's a replacement for the Sundrop. Also note the condescending patting.

(sung) You know why we stay up in this tower

[RAPUNZEL, spoken] I know, but—

[MOTHER GOTHEL] That's right, to keep you safe and sound, dear

Cuts off Rapunzel, because she doesn't get a voice in this. Insists that keeping her isolated is for her safety, but is stroking her hair while singing the last line, reinforcing how she values Rapunzel only for her power.

Guess I always knew this day was coming Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest

Paints herself as the victim, dramatically posing with the curtains and vocally emphasizing how distraught she is.

Soon, but not yet

[RAPUNZEL, spoken] But—

[MOTHER GOTHEL] Shh! Trust me, pet Mother knows best

Again positions herself as "reasonable"--oh, she'll let Rapunzel leave someday, she's just not ready yet! Again, Rapunzel is shushed and degraded--she's a "pet" who doesn't know better, and she should just shut up and listen to her mother.

Mother knows best, listen to your mother It's a scary world out there Mother knows best, one way or another Something will go wrong, I swear Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand Cannibals and snakes The plague

[RAPUNZEL, spoken] No!

[MOTHER GOTHEL] Yes!

[RAPUNZEL, spoken] But—

[MOTHER GOTHEL] Also large bugs Men with pointy teeth, and Stop, no more, you'll just upset me

Intimidates Rapunzel by knocking out the lights, physically manhandling her (especially knocking her down), and filling her head with terrifying images of the outside world. She is preying on Rapunzel's naivete (which is the result of Gothel isolating her) to scare her into submission. She also continues to cut Rapunzel off every time she tries to speak and plays victim--she says "Stop, no more, you'll just upset me," but she's the one who's been listing these awful things and upsetting Rapunzel.

Mother's right here, Mother will protect you Darling, here's what I suggest Skip the drama, stay with mama Mother knows best

As she sings the first two lines, she offers herself up for a hug, then disappears and leaves a mannequin in her place when Rapunzel seeks comfort. Her protection and love are conditional--obey her or else. Also, "skip the drama" gaslights Rapunzel into thinking she's unreasonable for asking to leave the tower (and is quite ironic, since Gothel's dramatically singing this on a staircase lined with candles).

Mother knows best, take it from your mumsy On your own, you won't survive

Insists that Rapunzel is helpless and dependent on her, while undermining her attempts at independence by snuffing out the candles she lights.

Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy Please, they'll eat you up alive Gullible, naïve, positively grubby Ditzy and a bit, well, hmm, vague Plus, I believe, gettin' kinda chubby I'm just saying 'cause I wuv you

Insults the shit out of her in an "affectionate" way to kill her self-confidence. Calls her "clumsy" while yanking her off her feet. Physically manhandles her again by rolling her up, spinning her around, and lifting her by the face. Again, paints Rapunzel as a helpless baby who can't make it in the harsh world and needs to stay isolated and dependent on her mother.

Mother understands, Mother's here to help you All I have is one request

Knocks out all the lights and then appears under a spotlight, portraying herself as the one and only refuge for Rapunzel. Rapunzel, who is extremely stressed by the previous events, rushes to the relief her mother offers--which, of course, is conditional.

(spoken) Rapunzel? [RAPUNZEL, spoken] Yes? [MOTHER GOTHEL, spoken] Don't ever ask to leave this tower again.

The facade slips as Gothel bluntly and sternly demands that Rapunzel never even ask to leave again. She's not just saying "no," she's removing Rapunzel's ability to choose and speak up for herself. Also note the contradiction with her previous claims: she said "Soon, but not yet" earlier, but now affirms that her rule is that Rapunzel never leaves the tower.

[MOTHER GOTHEL, spoken] I love you very much, dear

[RAPUNZEL, spoken] I love you more

[MOTHER GOTHEL, spoken] I love you most

Gothel, of course, has to get the last word in and reinforce herself as Rapunzel's better. Also, when she says "I love you most," she kisses Rapunzel's hair; she doesn't love Rapunzel most, she loves her hair and the restorative magic it holds. Rapunzel only matters to her insofar as she makes Gothel feel better about herself, whether that be by affirming that she's a loving mother or keeping her young and beautiful.

(sung) Don't forget it, you'll regret it Mother knows best

Uses a lighthearted, affectionate tone of voice, but uses it to threaten Rapunzel (imagine that statement said any other way). Also condescendingly pats her on the head again. Finishes by walking away while running Rapunzel's hair through her hands, denying Rapunzel comfort because she values the hair more.

TLDR; Gothel is a fucking atrocious parent and every second of this song is child abuse.

Ah, the gaslighting song.

[umbrellacam]

Oooh, Tim + villains = unhappy Dick for the ask game?? 👀👀👀

hgkldjsfd okay, that one is mostly a collection of notes at this point about Nightwing having an unhappy front-row seat to various villains being Too Friendly with Robin!Tim, or hearing about it secondhand, and getting increasingly annoyed/protective about it.

Specifically inspired by reading Robin (Vol. 1) A Hero Reborn and just. Gawking incredulously at the weird, possessive way Shiva was constantly touching Tim. Like omg lady please, we get it, he’s an interesting toy you want to put your claws into, please let the 13-year-old boy have some PERSONAL SPACE 😭

But also by that instance of Ed Nygma going “NIGHTWING. Hated him since he wore PIXIE BOOTS. And ROBIN. Him I don’t hate. Okay kid, actually.”

And by the Gotham Knights issue where Tim manages to negotiate with Ivy, and she calls him ‘little sapling’ and tells him that in some ways he’s more of an adult than Batman, lol.

This draft snippet is re: Shiva, set sometime during Prodigal, I think.

“She sure is a piece of work,” Dick muttered. He absently rotated the arm she’d twisted damn near out of its socket at their first meeting. For the high trespass of walking toward her like some kind of dope, no less. He’d had good reason for being off his game, but that was no excuse for acting the part of a greenhorn - especially in front of the actual greenhorn Robin. “But hey, Bruce managed to pull the wool over her eyes.” Well enough to fool all three of them...but setting that aside. “And you got away from her unscathed, right?” Tim’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, because she didn’t take me seriously. Half the time she was more interested in petting me like some kind of cat.” Dick's head cocked. That wasn’t something the kid had mentioned before. And his tone… The few times he’d talked about Shiva, the mixed undercurrents of apprehension and anger had never been far beneath the surface of Tim’s voice. Now was no different. Dick swiveled the big chair around fully and made an exaggerated show of running his eyes over Tim, masking the real consideration behind the look. Tim’s brow was furrowed and - he wasn’t even looking at Dick, staring down at his shoes instead. One hand was rubbing his opposite shoulder, as if he was working out a knot. Or…chasing away the memory of another touch? The sting of Dick’s own anger was as hot and abrupt as it was patently useless. He wrestled it down. Locked it in a box. For a future meeting, maybe. “Weeeell, you are pretty small,” he said, aiming for light - and nailing it with the ease of long practice under far more strenuous conditions. “And fluffy. I can see how the mistake could be made. Have you thought about laying off the hair gel?” “Hardy-har-har, you’re hilarious,” Tim said flatly, but when he glanced up - ha - there was a little upward tug at the corner of his mouth.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Earth Wife (Terra, Pebble, Ivy.) ficlet under the cut! Post-line up change. Terra discusses Ivy's new place in the band with Primo.

(this is developing a plot)

“She’s not going to last.” The First Emeritus had remarked, leaning back in his chair. Terra, adjacent on her own seat, chose to lean forward instead. Propping her elbows on her knees and blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth as she watches the ghoulette in question.

“Why'd they fuckin’ pick her then.” Is her only response. Her tone is disgusted. She has every right to be. There's something else afoot here, she can smell it, sure as shit on a summer day. “The boy’s ready for his moment. He's better suited.”

“The boy” as she calls him is near double her height and a respectable four hundred years old but to Terra, he’ll always be a fawn-legged new summon, so green and wet behind the ears he might as well be one of new saplings Ivy picked out for the orchard. He's more than good, more than suitable for the job. But the higher ups had taken her suggestion and ignored it. Giving Pebble the unceremonious boot and yanking Ivy out by the roots.

“Someone wants my brother to fail.” Primo continued, cupping his hand to re-light to end of his cigarette. “Now, all due respect to the lady, but she's not exactly…fit for the lifestyle.”

Terra peers over the rim over her sunglasses, taking her eyes over the hunched figure of Ivy in the dirt. It's the happiest Terra's seen her since the news broke; examining the plants with her usual attention to detail, dirt up to her elbows and smeared on her face. The sunlight makes her glow, the fresh air helps her bloom. Terra thinks of long, stuffy bus rides and fluorescent lighting. Cramped, sterile hotel rooms and tap water tinged orange.

“She'll survive.” Is all Terra says. She loves her Papa but right now, the ground’s not steady. Ain't nobody better than sussing out shaky foundations than her. Someone could hear her, someone who shouldn't. Her Papa could say anything and be brushed off like dust on a windowsill. Terra is a servant. She might belong to him but insubordination is insubordination. She's toe-ing the line as it is.

“More to life than surviving.” Primo responds enigmatically. Then, just as bizarrely, “Do you think it's time for a transplant?”

Terra doesn't say anything. Just watches as Ivy stands up, brushes dirt off her legs and turns around to wave.

“There's a couple that might need it.” She responds, jerking her chin up in response to Ivy. She thinks about the work involved, about fragile roots and notoriously fussy blooms. “We’d have to get it done at the right moment though.”

“Can't do it before tour.” Primo continues. “Too much work and they’d pull you away in the middle of it. Have to be afterwards. Right when she comes back.”

“No time to rest?”

“Can rest when the work is done.”

“How very Puritan.”

Primo chuckles, soft and slow as a trickle of smoke snakes its way down his body. It doesn't dissipate, but crawls along the floor until the trail reaches Terra.

“The garden is always worth the work.” Primo says. “Wouldn't you agree?”

Her eyes are on Ivy as she approaches, her smile fading when she catches sight of their faces.

“What?” She asks, alarmed. “What's wrong.”

Terra glances at her Papa, who's settled comfortably into his role of an old man admiring a pretty young lady. He plays it too well for Terra’s comfort, but then she's never been any better herself.

“Just a pity you finished before that rain started.” The First says. “Now you’ll have to shower inside.”

“Oh, boo.” Ivy says, an understanding smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Sorry I’m denying an old man his peepshow.”

The First Emeritus taps his forefinger to his temple, on the side of his Lucifer eye and Ivy snickers, flicks dirt at him and Terra's heart breaks to see it. It took her so long to open up, to finally be comfortable and someone decided to take all her progress and destroy it. Her Papa is right, Ivy's not suited to the touring side of the Ministry's outreach.

Outreach in general, is not Ivy's strong suit. There's a reason Primo requests privacy in his gardens and it's not all the poisonous plants he keeps. Humans blundering in and bothering Ivy would cause problems no one wanted to deal with. She liked who she had and she liked where she worked. Deviation from her routine brought up fear and distress, the kind chamomile had no hope of calming.

She doesn't know why Ivy’s like that. Frankly she doesn't care. They're all a bit unusual at the end of the day. Terra’s just glad that after decades of careful flirting, Ivy finally clocked on. It's been good to see how being loved helped her blossom. She doesn't think Ivy would have taken as well to Mountain if that foundation hadn't been built first, but there's no use speculating. Terra's built her little family up as best she could, providing a stable frame for them to grow upon. S’what she does best.

Ivy’s still teasing Primo when Terra re-surfaces from her thoughts.

“Look, what did you do to her?” Ivy says, pointing a filthy, gloved hand at Terra. “She's up in space.’

“Nothing she didn't explicitly ask for, multiple times.” Primo says unashamedly and Ivy gasps.

“Oh, you beast.” She says, but her eyes are twinkling in a way Terra doesn't get to see too often these days. “Suppose I can't tell you to leave, no. You're both stuck in those chairs, too useless to move.”

“Stoned to high heaven.” Terra says, though they aren't and Ivy knows it. “Be a dear and check on the boy’s progress with Pebble? Make sure she hasn't tricked him into eating a magic mushroom, at least.”

“I'm sure he's fine.” Ivy says, but she looks to where the kitchen window is with a worried expression. “They were going over pastries today, I think.”

Sure enough, if Terra sniffs the air she can smell something fruity and delicious and Ivy's too sweaty to be the source. That's a different kind of delicious, one Terra wouldn't mind tasting if Ivy felt like sharing her pre-lunch shower.

“Pastries!” Primo booms, startling them both. “Ah, when I was a boy back in Sicily…nineteen twelve, I believe…there was another boy, the baker’s son.”

He gets up from his seat with surprising agility, crushing his cigarette in the nearby ashtray before offering an elbow to Ivy. She takes it, after removing her thick gardening gloves. Glances at her Papa with the fond smile of someone who's heard a similar story many, many times and looks to Terra, her hand outstretched. Terra leaves her own seat to accept it, sticking her cigarette in the corner of her mouth. She supposes they aren't the strangest threesome the Abbey's ever seen as they make their way to the kitchens but they probably come close. Already she can hear Pebble shouting, probably from a stool as she bullies the poor kitchen staff to her every whim.

“After you, my dear.” Primo says grandly, opening the door for them and ushering Ivy in. She murmurs her thanks and walks ahead as Terra waits for her Papa.

“We will talk more later, ah?” He says, patting her shoulder. “About the transplanting. I have an idea of where these plants of mine should take root, but I would like to hear your opinion on it.”

“Yes, Papa.” Terra says obediently. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” Primo says with a faint chuckle. “My most rocksteady ghoul, ha! That is what you are, yes.”

“Terrible old man.” Terra tells him with a smile. She spies Pebble with the boy, tugging him around by his apron strings as she directs who gets what plate as the Abbey trickles in for lunch. The little earth ghoul shoots Terra a questioning look, one she waves off with a mouthed later.

Ivy? Pebble mouths back, eyes darting around to catch their ever elusive blossom. Already gone through a secret passage, she’ll take lunch in her room. Not alone, if Terra and Pebble have anything to say about it.

Don't worry. She locks eyes with Pebble, giving her a quiet nod. She'll be ‘right. Pebble raises an eyebrow and Terra only jerks her head to their Papa, even now sliding easily into the role of harmless old man once more. To the average observer, retirement and age had softened him. Made him and the work he did easy to overlook. Terra knows just how far his roots stretch though. What hidden places in the Abbey they touch. And even she can't guess at the depth they reach.

Pebble hands her an extra plate, tells Mountain to get the dishes started after he's had food of his own. She'll meet him for practice afterwards. The boy nods, trying not to look morose at the prospect of dishwasher duty, but they all have to start somewhere. That new little water ghoul is in the kitchen too and Terra thinks they'll get along just fine.

“What's the word?” Pebble asks as they slip into a concealed passageway, accessed by pulling a sconce. Terra waits for the section of wall to slid back into place before she speaks.

“Nothing new.” She says, as the rats scatter away at their footsteps. “Talk of a big transplant, is all.”

[andromeda4004]

Share it Sunday - Rebecca AU

I'm planning to start publishing this in about a month, and since I made great progress on it yesterday, here's a taste of the opening soliloquy. If you're familiar with du Maurier's Rebecca, I am changing a few major points of the plot, but still drawing heavily on some of the key points of the novel, including the first person perspective from an unidentified female narrator...

Last night I dreamt (more under the cut)

Last night I dreamt I went to Sanderley again.  It has been many years since I left that place – I shall not call it home – and yet at times my mind does drift back there upon a sleeping tide and wash me ashore where I used to dwell.  In my dream I come, as it seems, from nowhere, upon the night-time gatehouse and that long, disorienting drive, with not a thought but the pull to move onwards, inwards, through.  I part the gates, their white paint flaking, though they are caught up in vines and drag across undergrowth, and the gravel beyond is narrowed from a driveway to a meandering path through the woods, the route obscured here and there by a sprawl of shrubbery or the sudden upstart of a sapling, sprouting where once the car would run.  The woods go on and on, and I go with them, first walking, then running, then flying, as one does in dreams, along what remains of the path, dark ahead and enclosed above, until finally the trees give way to the opalescence of the rhododendrons, blooming at the height of their powers, despite all else having gone to ruin.  They rise steep to either side of me, the sweet domesticated perennials grown monstrous, twenty feet, thirty feet, forty feet high, and covered every inch in flowers, ghostly white in the moonlight of my imagining.  I remember the scent even now, something spicy-sweet and indefinable; indefatigable.  The inescapable scent of Sanderley in springtime.

It lingers even as I break free, finally, of the plants which choke the driveway and I spill out onto the lawns above the house.  That view, it always challenged me, should I admire first the gardens, or the sea or Sanderley itself?  Even in my dream, I cannot focus, cannot choose; after the homogeneity of dark trees then pale flowers, there is suddenly too much variety to see.  But of course it is Sanderley, always, that demands my attention, though the moonlight skitters beautifully across the wavecrests beyond.  The broad north-east face of the house stares back towards me, two unbroken rows of perfect matched windows that reminded me always of a set of teeth, locked in a gritted grin.  And bordering each window-frame that ostentatious golden finish which caught the light so prettily in the dawn, but stands out brassy now in my moonlit dream, the only point of colour in my sight.  There is something awful – in the sense of awe-filled – in its great mass of stone, and glass, and glorious history.  Sanderley is undeniable.  Sanderley simply is.

And as I come upon the house itself, I feel again that hope, that same, strange hope that dogged my footsteps always in those days; boundless, groundless hope that a wisdom greater than my own would guide me to a purpose.  When first I saw Sanderley with my waking eyes, I had thought I’d found it, that purpose; when last I saw Sanderley, I knew myself better, and I had no longer any need for hope.  I had certainty.

My dreaming eyes, however, they look across the years and miles and see Sanderley as it must be by now.  The ivy beginning to clog the stonework, the windows cracked and broken here and there, the soot stains where the fire broke free.  I move, without any sense of effort, around the building, to the terrace which faces the sloping gardens and the distant cliffs, where the driveway ends in a white portico and wide steps, now grubby and forgotten, and the perfect formal gardens overflow their box hedges.  Such a shame.  Someone ought to care for this place, I think in my dream.  Although it shall not be me.

____

I would love to hear thoughts and speculations, since many of you voted for me to spend time on this. I'm planning to post the story through October and November.

[momentosofmelancholy]

my little girlies are getting so big 🥰🥰🥰

[d4rl1ngpuppy]

Xurl who understands that humans find flowers romantic but doesn't quiet grasp that not every pretty plant he sees is something he should bring his human.

Thus, he constantly brings them odd plants such as

-A fistful of yellow wheat

-poison Ivy

-a whole strawberry bush

-an oak sapling

-cattails

-lilypads

-actual wildflowers

[liviavanrouge]

Brother knows Best

Ace: Hey Huey!

Huey: *Flinches and looks over* Y-Yes?

Livia: Wanna go to the port with us?

Huey: *Stares his eyes lighting up* I-I have to ask my brother...

Deuece: We'll wait for you here then!

Huey: *Nods and runs off*

---

Joana(Twst Gothel): *Blinks in surprise at Huey's request* You want to go outside? Why, Huey look at you, as fragile as a flower

Huey(Twst hurt Incantation: Rapunzel): *Rubs his arm*

Joana: Still a little sapling, just a sprout, you know why I keep you by my side now

Huey: ...I know..

Joana: *Hugs Huey tight* That's right, to keep you safe and sound, dear

Huey: *Sighs*

Joana: *Moves away* Guess, I always knew this day was coming! Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest!

Joana: Soon, but not yet!

Huey: But....

Joana: Shh! Trust me, pet

Joana: *Leans against the wall of Pomefiore* Brother knows best!

Huey: *Flinches as a sudden darkness surrounded him, his eyes widening*

Joana: Brother knows best, listen to your brother

Huey: *Flinches as Joana popped out the shadows at him and vanished*

Joana: It's a scary world out there! brother knows best, one way or another! Something will go wrong, I swear!!

Huey: *Looks around, moving his hair out of his face*

Joana: Ruffians and thugs! Poison ivy, quicksand! Cannibals and snakes

Huey: *Backs away*

Joana: The plague!

Huey: No!

Joana: Yes!

Huey: But-! *Stiffens as Joana vanished*

Joana: Also large bugs! Men with pointy teeth, and Stop, no more, you'll just upset me! Brothers right here

Huey: *Grips his hair, trembling*

Joana: Brother will protect you! Darling, here's what I suggest

Huey: *Turns as balls of light appeared*

Joana: *Smiles* Skip the drama! Stay with Brother! Brother knows best

Huey: *Flinches as the lights vanished*

Joana: Brother knows best, take it from your brozie! On your own, you won't survive

Huey: *Looks around, then flinches finding a mirror floating there*

Joana: Sloppy, under-dressed, Immature, clumsy

Huey: *Yelps falling over*

Joana: Huey, They'll eat you up alive~~!

Huey: *Blinks as Joana stood him up and spun him using a gust of wind*

Joana: Gullible, naive! Positively grubby! Ditzy and a bit, well, hmm...vague

Huey: *Shakes himself off*

Joana: *Chuckles and pats his brothers stomach* Plus, I believe, Huey you gettin' kinda chubby

Huey: *Pats his stomach confused*

Joana: *Hugs Huey smiling* But I'm just saying cause I wuv you!

Joana: *Releases Huey before he could hug him and vanishes* Brother understands! Brother's here to help you!

Huey: *Feels around, feeling a panic attack start* J-Joana..!

Joana: *Removes the shadows, putting them back in Pomefiore's hallway* All I have is one request!

Huey: *Runs over and hugs him*

Joana: Huey...

Huey: Yeah big brother...

Joana: You will never hang out with those ruffians that call themselves your friends...understood?

Joana: They. Are. Trouble.

Huey: Understood...

Joana: Huey...you're the only family I have left...I'm sorry

Huey: I know...I'm sorry

Joana: *Smiles softly* Don't forget it, you'll regret it

Huey: *Looks up at him*

Joana: Big Brother knows best!

---

Vil: *Stands around the corner frowning*

Rook: Poor Roi Du Shyness!

Vil: That's another level of gaslighting right there

Golden: Should I step in?

Vil: Not yet...

Ekeko: ...Vil...

Vil: As much I would love to step in, Huey is gonna be on his guard around everyone but his elder brother...

Rozzie: So we let his fellow first years break through to him?

Vil: Exactly, Only they can do it...

@anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @writing-heiress @marrondrawsalot @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @teddymochi

[loreleismusings99]

Two Body Problem

Ch 3

[Masterlist]

Mark gets a rude awakening earlier than he wanted, you teach some kids about gravity, and Mark walks home in the dark (again).

As always, thank you for reading and commenting. It's genuinely so lovely to see that people other than myself are enjoying this. Sorry this took so long to get out to you all, though--I just went through a bunch of life changes, and the semester just started for me so I've been a hair overwhelmed as of late. I should be back in business though. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. if you want add another layer to the experience, maybe listen to 'To Someone from a Warm Climate' by Hozier; I had that on repeat for most of the time I spent writing this, lmao.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Why did I do this again? Oh. Right. Mark thought, kicking a rock that had been landing between him and his destination for the last 5 minutes only for him to have to kick it out of the way again. I decided I needed to follow the bane of my existence turned… friend? back to their building… 

At the time, Mark had reasoned that it was to make sure you were safe, which admittedly was most of the reason why, but he didn't have to walk you to your door from the bus stop that was merely a yard away from it. If he rode the bus the rest of the way back to his apartment he'd be home right now, resting soundly in his bed and listening to the sounds of Downtown Chicago drone on outside his window. But, for whatever reason, he acted on a whim--walking you to your door and letting himself get lost in your presence. He could still feel the ghost of your touch on his shoulder blade; your hand was cold, and surprisingly grounding despite the light touch. Mark had to fight back the disappointingly real urge to lean into you every time your arm grazed his on the bus. Usually, he can explain away the thrill of hearing you talk as just being the effects of the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he anticipated the usually inevitable debate. But today couldn't be explained by that; the two of you weren't even arguing--you had a genuine heart-to-heart, but he still felt his heart skip a beat every time you locked eyes with him. And even now, as he was unlocking the door to his apartment, he could feel the memory of you sticking to him--like a stubborn piece of jello lodged in his esophagus, right behind his heart.

Mark lets out a jaw-breaking yawn before stepping out of his shoes and hanging up his keys. "I'm way too tired to process this…" he says, running a hand down his face as he walks towards his bathroom to get ready for bed.

The soil surrounding Mark's arm feels soft and cool, offering a small reprieve from the unwavering heat of the afternoon sun above him. He's adjusting a small lilac sapling into a hole he just dug. The soft purple petals from the bush’s flowers tickle his cheek as he looks up and around at the scene he's found himself in. He's inside a backyard he knows for a fact he hasn't seen before, but he feels calm like it's somehow his home. There's a vegetable garden behind him and to his right, there's a bed of sprawling wildflowers(presumably there to hold on to the soil, forming a retention wall while also bringing some color variation to the yard and attracting native pollinators). A shadow is cast over him as he contemplates adding in some ivy to reinforce the root system, making Mark look up to his left at a figure being backlit by the sun now beginning to set in the west. He lets his eyes adjust and finds your face in the shadow you cast, smiling down at him with an amused quirk of your eyebrow. You have a trowel in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other, resting lazily on your hip in your slightly askew stance.

"I wish you could see yourself right now, almost shoulder-deep in the ground." You say with a chuckle. Mark goes to respond but finds his breath caught in his throat. The sun almost looks like a halo around your head, and there's a spot of dirt on your forehead that he desperately wants to wipe off. You're stunning. 

"Come down here and tell me more about it, smart-ass" he finally lets out through a breathy laugh. You roll your eyes while you kneel beside him, and he pulls a small rag from his back pocket to wipe the dirt from your brow once you're settled beside him.

"Thanks" You smile fondly at him before looking down at the fruits of his labor trying to transfer the lilac tree from its pot and into the ground. "Are you sure this isn't too close to the fence? You know we can't have sprouts showing up in the neighbor's yard-" 

"Do I need to remind you that I literally have a PhD in Botany? It's far enough, there shouldn't be any issues-" 

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that." You said after letting out a hearty laugh. You plop down fully onto the ground and gently fall back into the grass behind you, closing your eyes to protect them from the sun. "It's really nice out here…" you say with a sigh. 

Mark looks down at you, now fully illuminated in the midday sun, and responds, "Yeah… it is." 

Mark blinks and the blaring sound of someone's car horn jolts him out of his dream. He lays there for a second before extracting his pillow from under his head and using it to muffle an exhausted groan. 

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

"You've gotta be kidding me…" you mutter under your breath while staring at the email the marketing team just sent you confirming that you're headed to the South Side STEM Festival to table for Adler. Alone. While also running two different activities 'concurrently, ideally.' Do they have any idea how much it takes to run one demo, let alone two? You think to yourself, reasoning that it's probably not the best idea to voice your grievances out loud--not while you're on the clock, at least. You have to pack up the outdoor tent, gravity demo, and a prize roulette wheel and head out for UChicago in about 30 minutes. Luckily for you, though, it's all easy enough to take apart and load into a car, and you're on your way over a couple of minutes ahead of schedule, hoping to get a jump on setting up the booth.

While you're stuck in a traffic backup on Columbus, your mind wanders to the events of a couple of nights ago; you and Mark competed in a game of trivia(which reminds you that you need to get Hana a coffee sometime to apologize for monopolizing the game). But, on the way back to your side of town he went with you--even walked you to your building. That was sweet of him , you think as you find yourself staring at your hand resting on the steering wheel--the one you touched his shoulder with. At the time you weren't entirely sure if it was the right call, but seeing him begin to talk himself out of going with you triggered a flash of inexplicable panic in you. Not wanting the interaction to end quite yet, you'd touched him, hoping the contact would do something . And it certainly did--at least to you; that initial contact felt like a bolt of lightning shooting up your arm. At first, you thought it was the instinct to recoil from the man who'd, for all intents and purposes, been your academic rival but there was something else hidden within the feeling. A softer undercurrent you hadn't expected. 

You're jolted out of your rêverie by the Lexus behind you laying on their horn, mad at you for not moving the very second the car in front of you had started moving. Grumbling to yourself, you inched the car forward by a foot and put the car back into park, waiting for the chance to inch further out of the traffic jam.

The field was already packed, and it wasn't even open to visitors yet--and despite the slight cloud cover, the sun felt like it was beating incessantly on you while you tried to set up your booth’s tent on your own. There was a ring of tables populated with a smorgasbord of science demos lining the edges of the field the organizers put you all in. There was a booth being managed by a local bioengineering company to the left of your own with a wild mess of tubes transporting a bunch of red fluid--supposedly a replica of a human circulatory system. To your right, there’s a constructed functional model of one of da Vinci’s flying machines that some undergrad MechEs built for a design lab project. Someone’s drone buzzed overhead, presumably just to test out the inevitable aerial shot they were going to use for marketing the event, but the wiring of the small quadcopter’s motors only added to your malcontent while trying to deal with the heavy and surprisingly fragile canopy. 

After getting your hand pinched for the umpteenth time that morning and letting out a yelp and a string of colorful expletives that seemed to fluster one of the undergrads setting up next to you, you hear someone chuckle behind you and ask, “You need some help with that?” 

You whip around and see Mark carrying a box of decorations in his arms. The surprise at seeing him causes you to lose focus while holding up the tent’s frame for a second too long, and the structure starts to fall with you standing under it. You let out a " SHIT! " as you try to handle the tent quite literally crumbling around you. 

You hear a frantic "woah, woah, whoa!" as Mark rushes into the falling structure to help support it and stop it from folding you into it. 

Mark lets out a soft grunt and pushes away a pane of polyester fabric to see your face. Once he locks eyes with you and sees your disgruntled expression he huffs out a "hey-" through a laugh and asks "You alright there?"

"Yeah, I think so…" you adjust the tarp above the two of you before continuing."What are you doing here?" You ask, letting an incredulous look twist your features, hopefully communicating your confusion. 

"I'm a volunteer;" He nods towards the t-shirt he’s wearing which says in bold lettering SSF VOLUNTEER , which you grimaced at how obvious it now seemed. "I did my undergrad here, and I like to pay it forward to my alma mater when I can" Mark adds with a wink and a smirk, making you roll your eyes. 

Trying your best to right the falling structure around you, you ask "Well, since you're 'paying it forward' today, would you be available to help me set this up? I'm here from Adler." Mark responds with a cordial 'for sure' before taking the other side of the tent and helping you expand it fully, locking into place its folding joints. You let out a sigh and thank him before moving on to setting up the prize roulette table

Mark props his fists on his hips and says, "I'm guessing you'd like some help with that too?" Gesturing towards the collapsed gravity table frame in front of your tent. 

You pop your head up from your place under the table while trying to get its legs to stay in place and say, "Yeah if you don't have anything else to get to right now. Usually, we're sent out with at least one other person to make all this manageable, but I somehow got sent out alone." You say that last part with thinly veiled vitriol as you finally get the table legs to straighten out. Mark gets to work and you stand and brush the grass and dirt off your dark-wash jeans before looking up to see how Mark's tackling the gravity table. You watch him organize the parts according to how they fit together and huff out a small laugh, causing him to look up at you from his seat on the grass. He looks like he's about to say something before he looks up at you and stops in his tracks; his expression morphs quickly from questioning and amused to the same ambiguous and hard-to-decipher look he gave you before leaving you at the front door of your building on trivia night. The sudden change slightly startles you and you ask, "What? Do I have something on my face?" You raise an eyebrow in an attempt to look at least a little unflustered while being scrutinized by Mark. 

"… Uh, n-no, no you don't. Just spaced out…" There's a beat of silence between the two of you before Mark clears his throat and asks, "Does this look right? I think you guys had this set up last year, but it's been too long for me to remember how it was set up." He stands and awkwardly tries to brush blades of dead grass off the seat of his pants. 

You look down and nod, "Yeah, that looks good. Just need to put the legs on and turn it right side up." You pick up two PVC pipe legs and hand another set to Mark, and the two of you finish constructing the frame. You take the elastic fabric that goes with the table and stretch it out over the frame, making sure one side of the ring doesn't have more fabric draping off it than the opposite side. 

"Need any more help setting up?" Mark asks, causing you to look up from the fabric. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it looks like he has a hopeful glint in his eye, but of course, that wouldn't make any sense. The two of you are becoming more friendly now, but that doesn't change the fact that he hated your guts not even two weeks ago. Not to mention how much work needs to be done around other parts of the fair, there's no way he has the time to stand around here. 

You give him a soft smile and say, "Nah, I think I've got it from here. Thanks, though…genuinely." You look down and run a hand through your hair. Your thoughts begin to spiral as you finish clipping the fabric to its PVC frame; Did that sound too soft? Too nice? God, why are my palms sweating so much??? 

"Alright; flag one of us down if you need any more help, I can't imagine running two different activities is, uh, easy." Mark picks back up his box of decorations and is back on his way to what you think is the Biology building. 

You look up at him and cross your arms, sporting a smirk of your own. "You underestimate my ability to multitask" you call out to him and hear him let out a loud and singular 'HA!' as he turns his back to you. 

Maybe Mark was right about how well you'd be able to manage this on your own; you completely underestimated how busy it was going to be. Every time you went to one side of your booth to interact with a family, another one would arrive at the opposite side, wanting to do the prize roulette. You felt like a chicken running around with its head cut off trying to keep up with the two activities. There's finally a lull in visitors around lunchtime, and you take a moment to collapse into the fold-up chair behind the roulette table and pinch the bridge of your nose out of exhaustion. It’s only gotten hotter since you arrived in the morning, and the temperature is starting to get to you. It would be one thing if it was dry out, but the humidity is making the heat feel like it’s sticking to your bones, and no matter how much you sweat or how much water you drink, you can’t seem to get any relief. You're still sitting with your eyes closed when you feel something cold press up against your cheek. You open your eyes and see Mark again, this time holding a blue Gatorade bottle up to your face. “What are you doing? ” you ask tiredly and try to bat the bottle away from your face only for him to move the bottle from your face and offer it to you normally. 

“Checking on you.” You look him up and down and give him a judgmental side eye as you take the Gatorade bottle from his hand and crack it open. “I was checking out your booth hoping to mess with you, but when I saw that your eyes were closed, I actually got scared that you’d passed out.” You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by the genuine concern that Mark’s expressing before he continues, “Cause, you know, having a medical emergency like that would be an absolute drag and throw a monkey wrench into the whole operation." He finishes the sentence with a sly grin and you lightly kick his foot and roll your eyes in exasperation. After a moment of laughter, though, his expression turns serious again as he asks, "Are you sure you don't need any help out here? I could operate the prize table or something, I really don't have much to do other than stand around and look official." He takes a seat on the table in front and slightly to your right. 

You consider his proposal for a moment; within the past two hours, you've been maybe the most scattered and stressed you've ever been outside a scholastic context. Being split between two activities was technically possible, but it was quickly wearing you down. Having to ask for help though, especially from Mark, seemed worse than the exhaustion, but at this point, you might keel over. You let out a sigh and respond solemnly, "I mean… if you've got nothing else to do. Sure, I don't see how it would be a problem." You look up at him and are slightly taken aback by the soft look of concern gracing his features. "Are, uh, are you sure you're okay with it? Please don't feel like you have to-" 

Mark says your name to interrupt you and continues, " I'm here to help. I'm more than okay with it, I want to." 

The relief that washes over you is immediate and alarming in its intensity. You fight the urge to weep at the prospect of not running two things at once and look wearily up at Mark. "... Thanks… um… here, let's set you up here." You get up from your seat and show Mark how to operate the prize roulette wheel; once spun, the guest has to answer whatever question it lands on, but no matter what, they get a planetarium sticker. Once you're done showing him the ropes, people start to trickle back into the demo area, signaling the end of lunch, and the return of the hoards of families and excited children.

 An hour after resuming the festivities, a group of what you can only assume are siblings walk up to your booth with their parents. Preparing for the new interaction, you put on your usual customer service façade and start addressing the group. "Hey there! How's it going?" You beam with a wide and inviting smile. Your voice is about an octave above what you usually speak at, but talking like this makes it easier to make your voice carry farther. After becoming more acquainted with the new visitors, you begin to walk them through the demo--teaching them about the Einsteinian model for gravity from general relativity, and showing them how objects are attracted to each other in space using a collection of marbles and a bocce ball sat in the middle of the 'space-time" fabric stretched over its PVC frame. 

The kids have fun starting orbits and you show them how to make two marbles orbit each other, something that immediately captivates them and causes them to frantically start throwing marbles into the pit, hoping to send a bunch of them in orbit with each other. Putting a hand up and gathering a set of marbles from the pile you begin to try to calm the frenzy. “Alright alright, hold on; you guys are putting them in too quickly. You have to make sure they’re close enough to get pulled into each other’s wells without having them get too close.” You let out a chuckle and prepare to send the set of marbles in your hand in orbit with each other. You set them loose with a flick of the wrist and they start to spiral around each other, dancing around in a decaying dance while falling towards the bocce ball and the kids are in pure awe. “They’re falling towards each other, but moving just fast enough to miss each time. It’s hard to get, but I know you guys can do it; it just takes time and practice,” you reassure the children surrounding the table. 

You feel someone's eyes on you and you turn around to see Mark looking at you… fondly??? No, surely it's something else, some other reason he's looking at you like that. Your cheeks flush under the weight of his attention and call out to him to break the quickly forming tension. "Wanna give it a shot?" 

One of the younger kids in the group gasps and calls out, "Marble battle!" as Mark walks up to the table and picks two marbles out of the mound of them sitting in your hand. 

"How could I not ; especially if it's a contest!" Mark exclaims, confidently preparing his toss. He looks up at you with a cocky grin as he drops the marbles onto the fabric. You pull your eyes away from him to watch as the marbles do not, in fact, orbit each other, but rocket off the table and into the center of the field instead. The kids burst out in peals of laughter, and it takes everything in you to not bark out a laugh of your own at full volume. 

"So, um, that was a great example of a hyperbolic orbit-" you were interrupted by your own giggles, and the kids' laughter at your attempt to not openly make fun of Mark. 

"Which is technically a type of orbit, you didn't specify a particular path-" 

"I certainly did not, but I wasn't expecting that! " Your ribs start to ache from trying to hold in giggles as Mark tries to talk his way out of his embarrassment.

At the end of the day, you pack up the demos and drive them back to the planetarium after thanking Mark for his help(not without any begrudging or jest on Mark’s part), excited to get home. You still have some work that needs grading, but you can finish that from the comfort of your apartment and not in the middle of a field. After waking through your front door and kicking off your shoes you get a text from Mark. 

I’ve still got a shit ton of grading to finish. You free to meet up?

You type back a quick 'sure' and pause before asking, my place or yours? having decided that you'll try to be bold for once. It was normal to invite people over if you're working together, and the two of you have been getting along surprisingly well the past week so surely this would be within the bounds of normalcy to ask- 

Yours, if that's okay? I would suggest mine, but Colin's asleep already :P

You let out a huff of a laugh at his uncharacteristic use of an emoji and told him that it was fine. 

We really need to find a time to work together that isn't the middle of the night, lol

You scoff at this and respond, what, you worried people are gonna talk? 

They might! The Devil works hard, but gossips work harder ;) 

Hfjshfhsjck 🤣

After confirming that he'd be over in about 20 minutes, your brain finally settled down for long enough for the reality of the situation to kick in. It was a quarter till 10 p.m. and Mark was coming over. He’s going to see your apartment--the inside of it this time, not just the building from the outside. Trying to distract yourself from the impending intrusion, you start to stress clean, making sure every surface is clear of dust and looks at least less chaotic than how frantic your thoughts are. 

Is this weird? Not it isn't, this is completely normal. Acquaintances visit each other. Maybe not this late, but this isn't entirely outside the realm of normalcy, friends visit each other late. God he's going to see my apartment; I wonder what he'll think; I wonder what he's expecting? Wait. Why do I care?? Ugh, he's probably not as messed up about this as I am, he's probably cool as a fucking cucumber right now.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

"Okay, okay okay okay - " Mark hisses under his breath while pacing back and forth in his room trying to put together his work bag and an outfit that looked a bit more put together than just wearing his pajamas would. You just invited him to your apartment. Inside your apartment. You trust him enough to let him in your home. 

Okay, Mark thought, this is normal, this is fine, it shows that they most likely don’t hate me. I think. He picks up a shirt and grimaces at a stubborn ketchup stain in an impossible-to-hide spot before putting it down and rummaging through his drawer for something not so marred by his messy eating habits. Settling for a black turtle neck and the khakis he wore for the STEM festival, Mark rushes out his door, forgetting his bag in the process and having to run back inside to retrieve it before leaving for your apartment building

Your apartment feels homey despite its small size; every square inch held little clues hinting at who you were, who you are, and want to be. There’s a bookshelf in front of him where most people would put a TV and the couch he’s sat on directly to your left has a little divot in the cushion next to his where he can only assume you habitually sit whenever you have some work to do or a book to finish while wrapped in the blanket that was now messily draped over the backrest. The air around him smells like cinnamon and honey, and the fabric under him is impossibly soft, matching well with the warm light that fills your living/dining room as the two of you work in silence. The volume of the comfortable quiet the two of you have settled into is almost too much; Mark tries to focus on anything else, the work in front of him that he's trying to grade, his heartbeat, anything to distract him from the weight of your presence next to him, scribbling away at the work in front of you on a clipboard while being cradled by a Papasan chair. Mark runs a hand down his face and puts down his quickly drying out pen before asking, “Do you have a bathroom?... wait, of course, you have a bathroom… uh…” 

“... where is it? Or, can you use it?” you ask, trying to decipher what he’s trying to ask. 

Mark bows his head and huffs out a weak laugh before looking up at you with a small grin, “Yeah, where is it?” Letting out an amused huff, you direct him to a short hallway behind the two of you, saying that the bathroom should be the door immediately to the left of the start of it. After thanking you and walking into the bathroom, he shuts the door and sits on the floor with his back to it, cradling his head in his hands in an attempt to stop the memory of your laugh from seeping into his bones. “...what the Hell…” Mark says under his breath, closing his eyes after noticing you use peppermint-scented body wash. What he’s feeling almost has Mark thinking that he’s getting overstimulated--maybe the day of volunteering had gotten to him and he was just now feeling the effects--but in his self-inflicted solitude, Mark notices something lingering beneath the surface of his strife; a warmth taking root beneath his sternum that is equal parts pleasant and unbearable, like an unknown need that's only halfway satisfied. He tries to swallow it down though; whatever it is, he's got work to do, and you to get back to. 

Mark stands and splashes some cold water on his face before leaving the bathroom. On his way back to his spot on your couch, he notices a small picture frame sitting on a table by the hallway he's emerging from that he didn't notice on his way to your restroom. In the photo, an elderly woman is holding this tiny pudgy baby and they're both looking up presumably at the person taking the photo. Upon further inspection, Mark is pretty sure it's you, the face on the baby looking into the middle distance is vastly different, but their eyes have the same brilliance and gravity that he sees nearly daily now that you work and have classes together. 

He picks up the frame and continues back to the couch before asking, "This you?" and turning the picture around for you to see. You look up from your work and at the photo, pausing for a second before your face settles into a fond smile. 

"Yeah, that's me and my great-grandmother. I'm maybe only a couple of months old in that picture." You take the photo from his hands and look at it thoughtfully. "Where'd you find this?" You ask, looking up at him finally with an amused smirk.

"It was on a shelf in the hallway back there and it caught my eye. I thought I recognized you, could spot those eyes from a mile away." He responds with a comfortable smile before settling back into his spot on your couch. Mark watches as your expression morphs into a look of pleasant surprise. 

Panicking, thinking he might've alarmed you, he lampshades; he dawns a smirk and says, "They have a certain haughty, greater-than-thou air to them that's hard to miss." You roll your eyes, scoffing out a "fuck off" and lightly kick his leg while he laughs at your reaction. 

After about an hour of grading, you set down your clipboard, looking off into the distance in front of you before turning your gaze to Mark and asking, "Are you hungry?" 

Mark is surprised by the sudden question and pauses for a bit before answering. "Actually, I kind of am. Why, are you craving anything in particular?" Mark leans back to look at you properly, his arm draping across the back of your couch. 

You ponder his question for a moment, tapping your fingers against your chin, before answering, "How do you feel about pizza?" 

"I feel great about pizza, how could I feel bad about it?" Mark responds with an incredulous smirk. 

You laugh and pull out your phone, presumably to open DoorDash or something similar. "Pizza it is, then. Giordano's?" You ask, looking out from your phone. "Always, of course," Mark says with a smirk and sets down his pen before turning to face you fully. 

You type for a bit before asking, "Any toppings suggestions? So far I've just got cheese." 

"Hmm… maybe veggie? With some mushrooms and bell peppers? Oh, and we should get some ranch with it too." 

"Oh, I've already got ranch, we can just use mine." 

Mark instinctively senses a button to press to fluster you and pursues it. "Well, what if I want my ranch in a small cup?" 

You raised an eyebrow before continuing, "Why… would the shape of the ranch make a difference? Wouldn't having it outside of the container make it easier to utilize?" 

"I mean, sure, maybe, but the container makes it more fun!" Mark beams at you with barely contained laughter. 

You consider him for a moment with a thoroughly amused twist to your grin before asking, "Do you really want the little ranch? I mean, I can get it, if you want it-"

Mark bellows out a laugh, "No no no, it's fine; I was just being a contrarian--I appreciate that though." He says between chortles. 

"I swear to God, Watney…" you say through chuckles of your own before continuing, "Alright, that's all ordered; should be here in about 15 minutes." You stand up out of your seat and start to walk over to what looks like your kitchen before saying, "I'm gonna make some coffee; you want any?" 

"Sure" Mark responds as he goes to follow you into your kitchen so he's not left alone sitting awkwardly on your couch. Your kitchen feels like a little alcove, tucked away in a corner and separated from the rest of the space by a false wall. The slightly ajar door to one of your cabinets reveals colorful bowls and plates, and just below them is a toaster in the shape of Saturn. 

Seeing this makes Mark huff out a chuckle that you pick up on, "What?" 

"Oh, nothing, it's just. Your toaster." 

"What about my toaster?" You ask, filling up a couple of mugs with some cold brew you took out from your fridge. 

"It's funny, it's Saturn; I don't think I've ever seen a Saturn-shaped toaster." 

You let out a scoff and turn around holding two mugs of water before saying, "Well, now you have." You hand him one and take a seat on top of your counter before taking out your phone and starting to scroll. Mark distracts himself by looking at some of the fake vines crisscrossing the tops of your cabinets and your fridge before he hears speak up again. "Take a look at this: 'NASA successfully deploys first module of new 'Hermes' space station into orbit.' Looks like we're finally getting serious about sending people past the Moon." 

"Really? Do they have footage of the launch? I've been meaning to watch it but it was at the ass-crack of dawn." Mark leans himself next to you on the counter and reads the article over your shoulder.

"Yeah, there should be one on here…" you scroll to the top and press play on the video that appears there. The two of you watch the video of the massive Falcon Heavy launch a little under 6 tons of infrastructure made to sustain human life into low Earth orbit, the speakers in your phone trying and failing to communicate the intensity of the engines roaring to life in Cape Canaveral in the dead of night. "What I'd give to get the chance to see one of those in person…" you mutter under your breath as the two of you watch the camera feeds switch to the ones on board the central module of the new Hermes space station, being built to supposedly facilitate human travel not just to Mars, but to the outer planets and their moons. 

"Would you ever want to be on one of those rockets?" Mark asks, turning his head to see your reaction. 

You scrunch up your face and set your phone down in your lap before answering. "Ehhh, not really, to be honest. I, uh, have a lot of opinions about sending humans that far before sending robotic explorers…" 

"Yeah? What are your thoughts?" Mark asks while he crosses his arms, listening intently to what you have to say.

" Well, Mars is one thing, right; We've sent countless rovers to the surface and have the infrastructure set in place to accommodate people, but I think sending out human explorers farther than that is too risky right now. There are too many unknowns, and not nearly enough probes have been sent out to the outer planets. I think sending out robotic explorers first would be wiser, considering we don't have that great of a map of the in-situ resources we could use in places like… the Galilean system, for example. We've got heritage to work off with MSL and Perseverance; we know pretty well what robotic explorers are capable of. Not to mention they'd need less infrastructure to keep them functional. The grant money would go farther."

You end your rant with a sip of coffee, and Mark pipes in. "Alright, I hear you, but consider the technology transfer; we also have historical examples showing how human spaceflight advances tech we use here on Earth; air conditioning, Bluetooth, MRI, enriched baby formula, the list goes on. Those are all things we wouldn't necessarily have if we had waited and sent robots instead-" 

"Need I remind you of the disasters that came out of human space flight? Using more fuel to launch both humans and all the junk we need to stay alive has real environmental costs. Not to mention all the damage that being exposed to radiation does to the human body over time and the lives lost on the launch pad in the late 20th century. Whenever people die, the public forgets why we go out there in the first place. Sending robotic explorers would not only be safer, but could yield more science than if we sent humans who can't go into harsh environments, or stay on another planet for longer than 5 months before they have to return." You gesture emphatically in front of yourself while trying to argue your point, and Mark takes your empty cup from your hand before you end up accidentally throwing it across the room. 

"Well, I can't argue with that. But there is a certain something that sending people out to the far reaches of space does to the collective human psyche. 'Going farther than No-one has gone before', and all that jazz." Mark coincides while you cross your arms with a thoughtful frown contorting your face. 

"Yeah, there is that… What about you--would you strap yourself to a rocket?" You ask while Mark rinses out your cups and sets them on a bamboo drying rack next to your sink. 

"Honestly… I would. I mean, I'd miss home, for sure, but… there's just something about being able to touch something we've only interacted with from afar. I think it would make it feel more real." 

You respond with a reserved hum and consider him for a second. Usually, Mark doesn't feel uncomfortable in your gaze, not really. But he feels exposed--like you're trying to pick him apart, see his motivations and what makes him tick. Mark squirms a bit under your gaze before you alleviate the tension by asking, "What's 'home' to you? Where do you go when the quarter's over and it's time to pack up?" 

This takes Mark by surprise, and he has to think for a second before responding. "... Wilmette. I have yet to really venture far from home. My parents are still there, haven't left since they had me…. What about you?" 

This time, you shift uncomfortably under Mark's gaze before you answer cautiously, "Ah, New Mexico, technically. I moved there from Philly with my parents when I was a little kid. Not sure if I'd call it home anymore though…" Mark waits for you to continue if you want to, seeing how serious your face turned when you finished your sentence. "My family didn't exactly react well when I came out to them. They didn't kick me out, though, and I'm thankful for that but…" 

"You need more than that…" Mark finishes your sentence for you. "... I'm sorry. I can't imagine what having to deal with that must've been like… I mean, coming out to my parents wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but they didn’t treat me like a stranger." 

You huff out a deflated laugh before asking, "You're also queer? No offense, but I didn't exactly clock you as a member of the alphabet mafia." 

"I am a proud representative of the letter 'B', thank you very much" Mark laughs out before continuing, "I was kinda late to the game, but my egg finally cracked in undergrad; I met this guy who would later become my TA for dynamics so it never would've worked out, but falling for him was like being hit by a freight train in the best way possible. It freaked me out, I'd never felt like that about anyone before. I talked to my parents about it and they helped me through that journey… I'm sorry you didn't have that." 

You shrug and hop off the counter before saying, "Well, I had my friends. They stepped in when my parents dropped the ball." A small smile graces your lips before you continue, "I still call them every week. We still find time to gab and play D&D together, even after all these years-" Your phone interrupts you with a sharp buzz. You pick it up and read the notification before sticking it in your pocket and walking out of your kitchen. "That's the pizza, I’ll be right back." 

Mark is left standing alone in your kitchen, absorbing all of what you just told him, and lets out a sigh before returning to your couch and picking up where he left off in his pile of grading. 

After the two of you finished your pizza and packed up the leftovers you got back to grading. After about two hours, though, Mark heard a soft snore to his right. He looks over and sees you curdled up in your Papasan chair in the position you were grading in but with your head leaned back and your clipboard clutched in your hands. Your lips were slightly parted and he could see your eyes dart back and forth beneath their lids. 

Mark lets out a soft chuckle before standing up to take the blanket that's draped over the back of your couch and gently covers you with it. You shift slightly in your sleep and turn to the side, somehow managing to wrap yourself in a messy blanket burrito. Mark notices a small eyelash on the apex of your cheek and goes to brush it off before pausing with his hand a mere millimeter from your skin. What is he doing? Why is he tucking you in, brushing stray eyelashes from your face? Why does he want to do this for you? Would you do the same for him? What would you think when you found yourself wrapped in a blanket that wasn’t there when you fell asleep? 

While he's agonizing about this, Mark's heart both races and feels extremely sluggish. He's almost painfully aware of how his pulse makes his hand twitch. He notices the same pulse in you too, your chest rising and falling in a slow and deep rhythm, your breath lightly passing over the back of his hand. He finally resolves to brush off the rogue eyelash and picks up his bag. He walks to the door and looks back at you once more before picking up a spare key you have hanging on a hook next to your door. He walks out and locks the door behind him before sliding the key under your door, the softness of your skin still lingering in his nerves' memory. He clenched his fist to try to lose the sensation, but it's too late--you've wormed your way into him, enveloping his senses like the warmth of sunlight on a summer afternoon.

[elodieunderglass]

What is the best way to learn plant identification for rescue plants? I'm hoping to try doing some plant rescuing soon from sidewalks and suchlike, but how do I learn what I'm looking at? Are there good digital resources for young plants? Most of what I know how to find uses mature plants as examples.

(In reference to my policy against seedbombing, with my caveat that if you want to commit mild botanical crime - a natural human impulse - you might as well rescue baby trees that would otherwise be killed)

Depending on how you learn best, you might like to:

1. Download an app like iNaturalist or PlantNet to ID plants by snapping a picture with your phone and uploading it to be identified by image recognition.

2. Find a visual chart of common leaf types and learn to identify common trees (i.e. oak, maple, etc.) - a worthy activity anyway. Some visual aids are styled like flowcharts, like this one.

3. Find a handbook for your area, ditto.

4. Learn the characteristics of saplings as opposed to soft-stemmed annual plants so you can categorise plants of interest. I personally find it easier to spot the pale baby leaves, crown-shaped tops and woody singular stems of baby saplings than to pick out unfamiliar leaf shapes in a bunch of conflicting shapes, although it’s surprisingly easy to pick out the ones you know best. A naturalist would call this spotting the tree by its habit; the innate characteristics that make something tree-ish.

Note that if you have noxious plants in your area like stinging nettles or poison ivy, you’ll want to have a good idea of what they look like before grabbing/touching plants you don’t recognise.

And good luck! Welcome to a lovely journey!

[twistedroseytoesy]

Mother knows best

Was super inspired from a twst text video. Basis is that riddles mom used mother gothels song against poor baby riddle. I have to write this out. Angst.

yet another potion accident, yet another daily adventure for Mc. This was supposed to be a dreams potion, a way to create a dream world and for others who drink the potion to watch and even participate in the dream that the first drinker created.

But of course with any group projects with grim involved something is bound to go wrong. Even with riddle’s guidance and stern warnings of making no mistakes grim decided it was too boring without some pizzazz. So he added a random root he found in a bottle nearby. This was called neroroot. Of course grim was smart enough to wait till both the mc and riddle were busy to slip it in.

Nothing seemed to change and that disappointed grim but oh well, he was going to leave it up to his henchman and riddle to do the boring stuff then. he curled up on one of the shelves and took a nice cat nap. The potion was completed by the two hardworking students. Now to test the effects. Riddle offered to go first, blushing a bit at his idea to set up a nice tea party in his dream world, maybe go on a horseback ride somewhere magical.

He drank the potion first and quickly sat down to nap. Mc followed quickly after the two sitting next to each other peacefully. It was a different story in the dream.

Riddle was having another nightmare, reliving one of the worst days at home. He got caught sneaking out, got caught eating sugar and playing with friends. He was told he would be kept in the house more and he wanted to cry and shout. He was so caught up in what was going on he didn’t notice mc in the corner of the room watching but also unable to do anything sot stop the aweful woman from emotionaly scaring her child.

Like most dreams some things were different. So as riddle was sat down at the large table, some music started to play as the cold and regal woman started to close the windows and draw the blinds.

Riddle’s mother: You wanted to go outside? Why, Riddle...! Look at you, as fragile as a flower Still a little sapling, just a sprout You know why we stay in this household

Riddle: I know but…

Riddle’s mother: That's right, to keep you safe and sound, dear. Guess I always knew this day was coming Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest Soon, but not yet

Riddle: But --

Riddle’s mother: Shh! Trust me pet, Mother knows best!

The woman danced around riddle keeping him in place and interupting anything he tried to say to defend himself. Mc stood off to the side frozen, burning with an anger they havent felt toward anyone.

The room went dark as she turned off the light overhead, plunging the three into darkness. The two could see her shape dancing in the darkness moving things around, before using some of her own magic to create lights.

Mother knows best Listen to your mother It's a scary world out there Mother knows best One way or another Something will go wrong, I swear

The little light orbs swirled around her as she moved toward the frozen in place riddle.

Ruffians, thugs Poison ivy, quicksand Cannibals and snakes

Riddle was pulled off of his feet as different shadows of the dangerous items danced around him.

The plague

Riddle: No!

Riddle’s mother: Yes!

Riddle: But --

Riddle’s mother: Also large bugs Men with pointy teeth, and Stop, no more, you'll just upset me

A large bug swooped down causing riddle to duck and notice a familiar eely grin in his face causing him to fall back into his seat. His mother wraping him in a hug from behind before dissapearing back into the darkness.

Mother's right here Mother will protect you Darling, here's what I suggest Skip the drama Stay with mama Mama knows best

Mother knows best Take it from your mumsy On your own, you won't survive

Mc seethed as they watched riddle get pulled from his chair again and put in front of a mirror as Riddles mother ridiculed his appearance.

Sloppy, underdressed Immature, clumsy Please, they'll eat you up alive

many faces of others filled the mirror as hands grabbed and pulled him in. He found himself back in his seat.

Gullible, naÎve Positively grubby Ditzy and a bit, well, hmm vague Plus, I believe Gettin' kinda chubby

She said poking at the little bit of fat on his stomach and his baby fat cheeks. Riddle's eyes watered at the harsh words and pokes. She smiled as she held him close again. then dissapeard into the darkness, leaving riddle scared and alone.

I'm just saying 'cause I wuv you Mother understands Mother's here to help you All I have is one request

Her arms were open, waiting for a hug. Riddle ran to her arms, since she was the only thing he could see in that moment.

"Riddle?" she said quietly, holding him.

"Yes?" he meekly asked.

"Don't ever sneak out of this house again." She said in a tone that left no room for arguments.

"Yes, Mother." Riddle said, clsoing his eyes and letting a few tears loose.

She cooed and wiped his tears away "I love you very much, dear."

"I love you more." riddle said with a wobbly voice.

"I love you most." She said, now pushing him back to look into his eyes.

"Don't forget it You'll regret it Mother knows best" She finished with a sing song tone, moving toward the kitchen to make dinner. "Go and study your dueling techniques in your room riddle. I'll check in on you in 30 minutes."

Riddle hung his head as he walked toward his room. Mc was finaly released from their paralyzed state and they quickly rushed toward where riddle went down the hall. He turned as he heard their footsteps, both now in his room. Riddle was now in his dorm outfit and his normal age.

He imediatly let the tears flow as Mc pulled him onto a gentle hug, nothing like the possesive hold his mother used on him. He sobbed, apologizing for what had happened, that this wasnt suposed to have happened. Mc just pet his back and hair as they shushed and cooed at him. telling him it was alright, it was in the past and if they had anything to say about this, that woman would be apologising in no time.

After a good 20 minutes of calming riddle, they felt the tug of waking up on them. Mc smiled down at the puffy eyed riddle as he held them tighter, like they would dissapear.

"it will be ok, Riddle. Next time you deal with her I'll defend you. I promise." they squeezed him gently, noticing the room fading around them. "Lets go have a tea party back at your place. I'm sure trey has some leftover goodies we could use." They both smiled as they woke up.

Riddle couldnt wait for that tea party, but first they had a cat to punish and a quick lab to finish. Riddle smiled as he wrote, feeling a fluttering and warmth in his chest now at the thought of spending time with the prefect. Despite seeing what made him the way he was before the overblot, they cared. they helped him, comfoted him. With a love he never knew before, a love his mother would never show. He wanted more of that love. Maybe over time he could ask- No! at least not right now... Riddles face flushed as he shook out of his thoughts and finished the assignment. Quickly excusing himself to get a very special tea party ready.

[kinok0s-writings]

Some Nightshade, a Bit of Chrysanthemum, and a Dash of Child Ingenuity

(This is yet again a late valentine’s day gift for someone I adore! There are going to be three more of these, and then I'm not quite sure what to do lol. This one is for @oobbbear, and for those who aren't aware of her witch au and what happens, check that out before you read the italics at the end. It's easy to ignore, but it's a spoiler if you haven't looked at the au, I recommend you check it out before reading. Other than that, I hope you enjoy! ^^)

Birds cried out in startled annoyance as heavy footsteps fell under them, the small critters scurried away from the disturbances with a skittish warning, chattering to others about the burly human who so angrily fought through the outreached branches of trees and shrubbery, naively disregarding the brambles and briars. The flora seemed to continue grabbing onto whatever clothing and hair they could, be it to curiously explore the stranger to these lands or to purposely get in her way out of spite for being such a loud nuisance, whichever it was you didn’t exactly care, -as long as they distracted the strange woman and kept her at bay. You currently sat pressed into a tree, -letting the bark cut into your skin to keep you alert while catching your breath in an attempt to be as unnoticeable as possible, sweat has already begun to start sticking to your skin to hold your clothes flush against your body uncomfortably; you’ve been playing this game of running rabbits with the weird merchant for far longer than you wanted, and you could tell you weren’t the only one tired. The cool breeze occasionally brushed against you with encouraging fingertips, cooling you down but making you all the more aware of the sheen coating your body, and while watching the large woman fight with a spot overcrowded with stubborn saplings, you tried to figure out why she was so determined to catch you in the first place. You hadn’t stolen anything despite her insisting you were a thief, -you didn’t want to have a debt with anyone else thank you, you had made sure to trade with objects of similar worth to the tools, realistic ivy, and the collection of wooden sculpted fungi, leaving your inventory lacking a small collection of crystals collected from the cave southwest of the cottage and a bottle of some bonafide auntie Moon broth. You could feel how your stomach whined at the loss of your delicious lunch, though the sudden shaking of the branch you had perched onto truly pulled you from your thoughts, the sudden violent movement nearly pulling you to the ground as well by shaking your balance right out of you. A glance to the tree aided with the sudden obscenities being shouted at you, -a mix of languages you both understood and didn’t, told you it was time to go, hopefully, this would be the last escape attempt, you needed as much time you could get to finish your project by tonight and the sun was already overhead casting noon shadows. You both locked eyes for a second, before you steeled yourself and turned hide to jump to the safest branch that could hold you the next tree over like the squirrels you’ve lived alongside most of your life, stuttering in the air with the weight in your satchel, nevertheless you landed with the ghost of a grunt leaving you.

You could hear the woman swear again as you pulled yourself up, steadying yourself to quickly approach the edge to jump again and push yourself to leap some more, the compass tied outside the bag on your person was all you needed to navigate a path bound to lose the lady on the ground. You knew these woods like you knew the ingredients to your favorite dish, after all, you’ve lived in this barely touched forest with your aunties for several years now, and with your experience here you knew for certain that traveling in the trees or the air was the fastest ways of traversing the woodlands, easier if you were alright with raw palms and scrapes. It was a slightly beneficial trade-off because sure it greatly tested your upper body and core strength, as well as your tolerance for the roughly textured bark cutting into your skin or scratching you even through your clothing, let alone the ever-growing possibility of slipping or losing your balance as a result of the split second you couldn’t catch yourself. Those were the problems you welcomed compared to those traversing on foot, like being consistently slowed down by the thick oftentimes thorned shrubbery that grabbed onto your clothes and hair with a strange desire, or traversing through possible wetlands, -an obstacle that was growing ever common in the transition of seasons. Then there were the hesitant steps made to climb over the roots which grew much too large to stay buried under the soil, and lest you forget the awkward twisting of your body to pass through the saplings whose thin limbs seemed to be all too eager to steal an eye or two. You were moving with adrenaline in your veins, hearing your pursuer grow further and further away much to your gratitude because you’ve been progressively getting more aware of the damage to your body, your palms were throbbing with a sore heat due to the wood-biting into them unkindly, rubbing your skin raw as you dangled from one branch to swing to another until you were sure you'd lost her, luckily before you lost your grip.

The wind only blew past you for a single moment, -its refreshing caresses were now no longer comforting, before you felt the impact of your back meeting the earthen ground sooner than you had planned, forcing something of both a grunt and a cry combined to leave you, knowing you fell from a place higher than you should have been. Savoring the serenity of the forest ambiance you lay there, gaping like a fish out of the water as you tried to greedily gulp back the air that was knocked right out of your lungs, taking a couple of seconds too long to hype yourself into the idea of getting up. You could already hear the scolding reminder of the lecture telling you to stop being so reckless, last time you had accidentally fallen asleep and then been forced to go sort through the elixir and potion ingredients for two weeks, -it sounds a lot easier than it truly was. Suddenly you became progressively aware of each new scratch, cut, and forming bruise that coated your body with the same consistency as splattered paint upon a canvas, causing a sigh to leave you; you eventually opted to pull some of the objects out of your satchel and work on what parts of your project you could instead of thinking about your aunties’ reaction to your absence. Yes, you had let them know beforehand that you were leaving to go out on a walk, but even that was back when the sun was only climbing higher than the treetops, and to think you had assumed you would have had time to practice your whittling some more before you put everything together tonight. Slowly from the appeal of the hesitant compromise that you’d have time for more practice if and only if you got the ivy combined with the flowers now instead of later, the ache in your limbs forcibly ignored, you gained the momentum to stumble forwards towards the cottage, even taking some of the longer routes. You were so absorbed in fastening the right knots with the fake ivy you didn’t care how branches seemed to playfully grab your pants and your hair, or how sapling limbs prodded at your drying wounds, in fact, the only time you looked away was when you nearly tripped on a root you always faceplant over, the last piece of glass secured just in time for you to realize you were at the clearing of the cottage. Quickly, in case anyone was looking for you at the window in the off chance you had somehow gotten lost, you shoved the ropes into your satchel, listening to the oddly charming sound of glass clinking against the glass, before you made your way out of the trees, the sight of the cottage with its snow ridden garden putting a relieved smile on your face as your heart welcomed the sight of home. Despite anything seeing your aunts always brightened your days, it could have something to do with how they loved each other or the fact they somehow made sure to share enough for the lost child the forest spat out at them, and your tired smile was traded for a genuinely energetic one, and as you neared the doorstep you paused to look inside the cauldron hung outside for the off chance something may be inside. Your stomach reminded you of your missed lunch making the emergency bottle you had stashed inside your room seem all the more promising, but just so you wouldn’t have to crack open your reserves you’ve made it a habit to sneakily check, sadly today the oversized iron bowl was filled with nothing but disappointment; ah well, you shrugged deciding that reserves were on the menu today. Humming an absentminded tune you knocked on the door to ‘shave and a haircut’ before opening it and stepping inside, the comforting warmth with its cozy ambiance was able to be savored for just a moment until one of your aunts seemed to decide to spawn next to you, -despite your uncertainty of whether or not she actually could teleport you were oftentimes sure it was just her way of messing with you.

“Look who finally decided to come home, I was almost convinced you had gotten lost and we needed to go out and grab you. Did you at least bring back something inter- Goodness, hey Moon? Could you grab the first aid, it looks like Y/n took a swim in the briars again.”

Pushing away the embarrassing memory aside you laughed reassuringly and swatted at your bright aunt’s hands, a small playful fight breaking out as you challenged one another, her hands grabbing to look at all of your wounds in such a way it nearly tickled, and your hands were playing defense as you tried to reassure her that you were perfectly alright. You chose to swallow down the winces whenever her touch grazed a certain bruise to eventually escape the sunny witch, which you did, therefore winning the war and as familiar soft footfalls came from behind you you laughed at her dramatic huff of defeat; you were going to walk off in victory, but a different hand grabbed your arm, one you couldn’t swat away, causing the roles to be reversed. Your expression fell into mock betrayal as you were then dragged to a stool by the deceivingly younger of the two witches as your auntie Sun laughed behind her hand while she left the room, leaving you to groan quietly before you extend your arms out of silent routine, letting your aunt Moon examine your limbs and letting her adjust your clothing for full inspection. You bit your lip as guilt began blossoming in you, not even the sunlight illuminating the room through the curtained window could dissolve the shadows it brought with it, it wasn’t as if you had wanted to get this hurt, and you were trying to be careful, it wasn’t your fault you were accident prone. However, instead of feeling bad for yourself, you focused on reassuring her you were alright, but she spoke first, her calming voice held tones of exasperation, slight concern, and perhaps an undertone of scolding.

“It does look like you went swimming in them again, what, were you too impatient to wait for the creek to warm up? Tell me, what did you do, and don’t you tell me you ‘just went for a walk’ because then I’ll have to ask you where’d you walk, down the cliffs? By the stars love, if you’re going to teach Y/n to be as reckless as you, then could you at least make sure they have your luck as well? It’ll save me on medical supplies.”

You can at least say there was no undertone, her words were definitely filled with scolding, and as they became directed at the escapee, your other aunt returned with a cup of water in one hand, the other extended towards your head and ruffled your hair as if a mock apology to match your previous betrayal, her warm touch felt pleasant against your scalp. The ruffling of your hair paused as she pulled a twig from your strands, inquiring a quizzical and amused look from her that bounced from you and the twig, before her pretty blue optics met her wife’s darker hues, smiling with the gleam of a playful feline as she tossed the twig to the side and placed her free hand against her chest.

“Honeysuckle, they’re alive aren’t they? Of course our little Y/n has my luck.”

Her words only made the taller of the two roll her eyes, though the edges of her lips upturned at the absurdity of them, and the two of you laughed at auntie Sun’s successful dissolvement of her scoldings, but you knew she had only pointed you in the right direction, you were the one that had to clear the path. Quickly you spoke up, having already gotten over the sting of the disinfectant oil being rubbed into your already raw skin, it helped that her touch was comfortingly cool and her hold was gentle, soothing the sore burning.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, I am still as fit as a fiddle! After all, I have my aunts to teach me, and they’ve taught me well. I really am sorry I stayed out so late though, it wasn’t my intention, I just got a bit carried away testing my knowledge on traversing the woods. I was going to go to the village to gather things I need for something I’m working on, the one north at the ‘skirts, but on my way, I came across a traveling merchant that had something better than I originally planned, so I just got my things there.”

As you gave the women your very reasonable explanation, you noticed that they both had different expressions adorning their faces, Sun looked like it made sense and that was all she needed, but Moon looked confused, if not a bit apprehensive about something as if something didn’t add up. The burning of your limbs had noticeably begun extinguishing, the homemade oil doing its trick while her pale hands paused, one on your arm while the other held a roll of the gauze you’ve been chipping away at these days.

“Y/n… you don’t have any money, how did you pay the merchant for whatever you bought?”

Her words confused you for a moment, you knew you had no coins so why did she need to remind you? It seemed however the brief moment confusion had bled onto your expression was all it took to answer a few mental questions of her own, making dread slip onto her facial features, her wife’s muffled laughter not helping at all. Quickly you brightened up with a reassuring smile to stop whatever was going on through her mind, resting the hand currently unoccupied on top of the one holding your arm as you spoke again.

“I know I don’t have money, that’s why I just did what aunt Sun taught me to do whenever we summon demons for things, I traded something of equal value! I gave the lady the good ole Moon broth I had on hand and some of the gems I gathered the other day. I wasn’t going to steal anything, trust me I’ve learned my lesson, and I just didn’t want to bother any of you for some coins either. Usually, I’d pay with tasks, but that’s only for the village, they’re cool like that, it’s alright I promise.”

After you reassured her, ignoring the sneaking suspicion you had done something wrong because you know you had done nothing, -you’re only lightly unsure of that now, you caught your sudden laughter with a snicker as you watched aunt Moon send a disapproving look to Sun, who was completely unbothered by it and instead was laughing as she held a gleam of amused approval. Your attention returned to your purple-haired aunt though as she pushed your hand to the side to begin working on wrapping both your arms and palms with gauze, your stomach rumbling with demands as she began to speak what you could only hope were her final words for now, time was slipping away and you knew auntie Sun was leaving tomorrow morning for a new bounty, so it all had to be finished tonight.

“I am going to let you know I’m blatantly ignoring the fact that you just happened to have some of my broth tucked away in your inventory somehow, but I also want you to start assuming that you need to trade with coins, it’s not often you can pay with services nowadays, so it’ll keep you out of that sort of trouble. We shouldn’t have just assumed you knew that, so now you know. Anyways, what was it you bought with the price of some perfectly good broth and a couple of crystals?”

You hummed gratefully while flexing your bandaged hands, the ache now only a husk of its former self, while your aunt Moon began putting things in the woven straw box, Sun was finishing her water, but her oceanic orbs were set upon your satchel with the shared curiosity of your wife. Smiling dismissively you adjusted the strap as you spoke up, grateful that she was finished, -you were sure your stomach was going to eat itself if you didn’t find some food to hold you off until dinner, and looked out the window trying to spot your offender in the off chance she may suddenly stumble out of hiding from the flora. No, she has surely given up just as you had, the things you conned her out of just weren’t worth all the effort to retrieve; if anything you could just find her again and return the tools with some coins this time as compensation and explain why you did what you did; it was obvious you both were in the wrong.

“That does explain why the merchant chased me throughout the woods. If I come across her again I’ll make it up to her with that in mind next time, I had to climb the trees trying to outrun her. And don’t worry, what I grabbed wasn’t important, now I gotta go work on that project I mentioned, if I could be left alone while I work I’d greatly appreciate it. I’ll probably be done after dinner, so you can fetch me then, I just want to get this done without having to rely on either of you. See you both later tonight, okay?”

With your mind absorbed in the plans of the finer details you had to work on you didn’t pause to look at them for their reactions to see whether or not you truly were done, seeming to decide that at the very least that you were completely done with the conversation as you beelined it to the stairs, eager to enter your room with a hum hidden behind your lips, missing the confused looks shared behind. You needed as much time as you could get, no matter if you were almost done, there was always something to improve upon after all, and with you aiming to be completely done before dinner so you can immediately reveal what you had been working on right after the meal. You had already gotten the bodies finished, -or specifically, you had carved them into a shape you were satisfied enough with to continue, you just needed to carve in some extra details and embed the things you finished today into them, then you can probably find other things to do with them if you had the extra time. It was a lot of work, you had been working on this project for nearly two months, and you hope that earlier your aunt Moon hadn’t noticed the missing medicinal objects, you’ve had you force yourself to learn a bit more first aid than you already knew lest you blew your cover whenever you nicked yourself with the knife or the wood dug so deep into you it left an annoyingly buried splinter. If she noticed and mentioned it after tonight you would be able to easily come clean, but as of right now you had to do one of the things you weren’t exactly the best at with your aunts, being secretive, it’s probably best you just temporarily isolate yourself to focus solely on getting these last touches done. The stairs creaked with their growing age, pictures of memories hanging up on the wall while you walked down the hall to your room, quickly closing the door behind you before emptying everything out of your satchel to carefully lay out the materials and tools in reach, -be it ones you already had tucked away in your belongings or the newest additions you had on hand, starting to work with revitalized determination.

--

The energetic aura that kept the room so warm and bright felt as if it had left to trail after your retreating figure, your words gave the darker of the two women you left behind an uncomfortable weight in her tongue, like scratching in a spot only to miss the itch, and from the silence of her usual bubbly active wife she wasn’t the only one with the sour aftertaste. She turned to look at those bright sapphire eyes she fell in love with, pushing aside how their gleam was darkened slightly with a perturbed shadow, -it was her job to catch these negative emotions like moths from a closet for it never suited her comforting flame to be anything besides happy, and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder to lead her to the kitchen, opening her lips to comfort her.

“Hey, I’m sure after their little adventure today Y/n is just tired from it all, let’s just let them work on their project as they asked. Now, why don’t you help me with dinner tonight? I know I’m going to miss cooking with my sweet little wife.”

At the end of her words she had managed to pull up a palm that no matter how many callouses it gained from the work it did, it would forever be soft to her and pressed to her knuckles, then her palm before kissing her forehead and stepping back, a smile only truly able to uphold one corner of her mouth. It was enough to gain a smile in return, even rewarded with some precious blush, but as soon as it emerged onto her starlight’s face it fell again and she turned away to rummage through the cabinets and shelves, evidently tonight's dinner already decided in her mind. An absentminded hum followed along to the busy golden bee’s gatherings, not even the herbs on the hanging wrack were spared, -even if she had to pull the ones her wife wanted down for her, and progressively she pieced together what dish they would be making, the ingredient pattern strikingly similar.

"Moonie, do you think we did something that upset Y/n, and they don't want to let us know? I know I sometimes forget they're not as young as I think they are, but did we make them feel small by being too pushy? Oh Moon, what if they feel like a burden and force themselves to be independent of us?"

The taller witch could only listen to her woes as her hands helped her love with preparing the ingredients for the dish, -feeling it best to not mention the fact they were preparing Y/n's favorite dish for dinner, while holding her tongue as it instinctively filled with the desire to spout whatever it may have taken to reassure her, and to possibly calm her own stirring tides. It was tempting to give whatever honeyed words that could distract her from any troubles, but the raisin-haired woman knew that's all they would be, -honeyed words inflated with hopeful reassurance yet lacking any truth, for the questions leaving her lips were the very ones encouraging trouble within her mind. With a sigh she instead opted to grab a knife after reaching around her wife's body, deciding upon her next words carefully, testing her tongue hidden away before speaking with a soft tone as she grabbed some of the vegetables.

"Sunshine… I can't say for certain I have any answers to our questions, but I believe for now all we can do is show them how we support most of all they do and ask later. If we did, they'll tell. We can't just assume we're the ones that have wronged them, and that's for the chance anyone has done them wrong, well anyone besides that merchant. Could you go out to the backyard and bring in the pitcher of tea, please? I made your favorite for tonight. I’m going to go out front to start the fire and get the stew started, you’re up for the rest of the dicing, alright?”

By the time the last word left her lips, she had finished cutting the vegetables and scooped them into a bowl to be cradled easily in her arm, taking a moment to kiss the cheek of her retreating ray of pleasant sunlight, flashing a comforting smile before she turned to make quick work of the instructions she had given to herself. The sun continued to slide down the sky, the warmth its presence brought following along with it like a lost child, leaving the once gentle breeze to be more of a larger being, not exactly overbearing, but it was enough to make her consider running back inside to grab a jacket; she decided against it knowing the fire she’ll hover around is going to keep her more than warm enough, enough confidence to wave off the darkening air. It was enough to remind her spring hasn’t arrived quite yet, a fact that slips her mind with how nice it’s been lately, especially in the present moments as she gathered some timber to feed the small flames starting, with the serene atmosphere she’s grateful to share with her loved ones. Around her the birds gossiping amongst themselves about the day’s events, -she had no doubt Y/n’s scene was sprinkled somewhere in their calls, the songs of creatures hidden within the whistling trees with the tease of budding leaves, the ground taking advantage of the watered soil to send the early bit of sprouts and grass pushing through its surface, snowfall replaced with morning frost as spring snuck up slowly but surely into the woods. Fanning the flames she unhooked her ladle and began tossing the mix of crushed herbs and cut-up vegetables into the water, feeling the growing wind play with her hair, the witch was aptly reminded why she kept her cauldron outside instead of inside with the smoke it brought to her, forcing her nose to scrunch up. She didn’t hate the smell per se, but she wasn’t a fan of it, and if she had her cauldron inside their home the presence of burning embers would be constantly thick in the air, enough to truly make her head hurt and eyes water worse than it did now when a gust was thrown into her face. Stepping out of the wind’s path she threw some dirt on the flames to lower them as she hear a distant croaking nearly hidden in the creaking of old wood, waiting for any other to join in and truly tell them whether spring has arrived, they’ve yet to hear all three so far, as a result, they’ll simply continue taking in the winter weather safely with the hopes it’ll remain kind until spring bleeds through.

Another noticeable creak from a swaying wooden body somewhere among the others brought a stray thought into the light, Y/n had mentioned the first warm day after a cold night was the best time to start putting taps into maple trees to gather sap, and although she knew they’d missed the timeframe this year making some homemade maple syrup seemed like an activity she’d be happy to do the next time winter thawed away. It was a calm moment she took to wade through her thoughts, fishing for anything she needed to sort through in the meantime, -any about Y/n were promptly set inside a bucket to look back at after dinner when they got answers, while she made sure the stew didn’t boil or simmer more than it needed, the aroma it had begun to give off was enough to nearly convince her it was good as is. It seemed however that throughout all of the sounds she could pick up, the raisin-haired witch could pick up the sound of her wife’s footfalls through the grass, and when she turned her head to look at the shorter witch she was immediately reminded of a fact that made her smile brighten. No matter how long winter stretched itself out to be, no matter if it ever decided to spend its final moments with cruel wrath, she would be perfectly fine, for as long as Sun was in her embrace she would have a personal ray of sunshine to bring spring into their household with every moment spent together. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders she handed her wife the ladle before watching as she added in chunks of skinned potatoes and diced bits of the venison they had gathered from one of the hunters in the village over at the northern outskirts, the crackling of the flames reminding the two incessantly of their dangerous presence, they both wordlessly enjoyed the moment before she broke the silence, a smile in her voice.

“I heard one of them just before you came out here, what about you? Have you heard the tree frogs sing yet? I was thinking after one of us hears all three we can plan what to do for this year’s garden, I seem to recall the sweet alyssum candies I made last year had barely filled the jar for more than a month or two.”

The topics she chose were so far from what either had on their minds it was such an obvious distraction, but it was one they both welcomed, especially as the eldest smiled with guilty mischief, chuckling as she looked away to shrug in an unabashedly false ‘I have no idea’ motion, in return making her laugh alongside the other. This was a lot more appreciated than the slippery cycle of ‘what ifs’ that no doubtedly hovered between the two like an overfilled cloud eager to spill, and they both were well aware of what usually happened if they spilled without one another around to brighten the experience even if by a little bit. Together she held her wife close, watching the stew and taking care of controlling the flames, as the sun lowered so low its rays could only barely flow past the tree trunks, too short to grace the outreached limbs that forever searched the sky, the branches of the trees becoming shadow coated frames until illuminated by the light pouring from the cottage’s watchful eyes. It wasn’t until finally when the first star had blinked awake above their heads they decided the stew had finally been finished cooking, the skies a beautiful display as the once blue faded gold was now doused with purple tones melting out of red tints. The two women grabbed a larger bowl to pour it all into and carried it back inside, the smell of dinner seeming to be so strong neither had to call for Y/n to come down to eat with them as their ever-growing child emerged in a gay mood, a giddy bounce in every step; it didn’t matter that Y/n wasn’t biologically theirs, the human child that was spat out of the woods onto their doorstep, -specifically her cauldron, was theirs now and they were adamant on raising them as their own, refusing to give them back easily. The contrast between the lulled moods that muted their fretting minds compared to your eager cheerfulness was enough to give her and her wife whiplash, but it also was enough to put a comforted smile on their faces, -it reassured them as just much as it confused them with a sneaking thought, did they overthink that severely? Nevertheless, her love left her side to fetch the pitcher of tea while she moved to set the bowl of stew down, smiling as you set the table eagerly to get your serving, and for a brief moment, she wondered if you had ever eaten lunch, though the thought flickered away as quick as the flames within the lanterns illuminating to make up for the dissipating sunlight. You all sat in silence, eating your meals together, and the animated way you savored your food was noticeably different from the two eating alongside you, but that held no effect over any of you, the dinner overall being both comfortable and silently enjoyable.

--

After you had happily finished the third helping of your favorite stew you had finally felt full enough to be satisfied, making sure to voice your gratitude and compliment your favorite chefs, before deciding to truly show your gratitude as you opted to do the night’s dishes instead of either aunt, making aunt Moon smile and nod while aunt Sun dramatically swiped some invisible sweat off her forehead, making you giggle as you gathered their bowls and utensils.

“Thanks for sparing me little comet, though your auntie Moon and I need to talk to you about something, so meet up with us in the living room once you’ve finished, alright? It's nothing serious, I promise, or else I’d probably be getting sat down and talked to along with you.”

You balanced the three bowls on your hip while you listened to your aunt, even if you were confused as to why whatever they needed to discuss with you they never mentioned over dinner or right now, so even if she said it wasn’t that serious you were that it at the very least had enough weight to make them have to bring it to the living room. You didn’t want to let her see your hesitance so you instead nodded with a grin, using your other hand to give a saluting motion before grabbing the soap rag and leaving the comforting feel of the kitchen by slinking out the back door and walking to the front yard, the jacket equipped to your person held onto that warmth but it was like sand falling through its fingers, just as your thoughts were flying past like wisps of clouds slipping your own. The sun had since disappeared after your second bowl, the stars now awake enough to shine over you while encouraging the moon to join them further in the sky, watching you as you used the glowing eyes of the cottage windows to illuminate your way to the cauldron, fanning the dead embers in the off chance any were still actively dying, and smiling when some of them shined with their amber glow. Using your hand you fanned at the ash to force-feed the ashes until small flames grew to reignite the fire, then you set the dishes onto the forest floor before quickly making a quick stop at the well in order to return with a bucket of water, pouring it into the cauldron, and getting to work cleaning the few dishes, -the giant iron bowl included. As the distant wolf called for the moon among the nocturnal critters while they came out with their unique songs you dived into your thoughts, trying to figure out just what the mysterious talk would be about, were they suspicious of you and your admittedly not quite a fool-proof project?

Had auntie Moon taken notice of the difference in medical supplies, did that extra gauze come back to haunt you for the ointment you may or may not have spilled? How would you explain you had nicked yourself during your whittling session late at night when you should have been sleeping, and didn’t want to wake anyone up, let alone have to come up with why you were suddenly bleeding, -even you had to admit you weren’t the best of liars. If they were going to interrogate you about your recent activities, you’ll have no choice but to come clean, which would be devastating as you had come so far hiding the secret, so close to surprise them with your matching gifts, though you did suppose you were going to give it to them after dinner anyways. They had come out so lovely too, sure, you have no idea what your aunts will use them for since you weren’t magical and couldn’t exactly make a magical tool, but they could be used as pretty walking canes if they ever acted like old ladies! You knew you were going to use yours to help you with your chores, it’s perfect for extra arm length, or even reaching things so you won’t have to ask aunt Moon all the time to grab things for you, you’d just have to be careful knocking them into your hold. Besides, yes they had a good bit of fragile things making up different parts of them, but they were surprisingly durable, which absolutely wasn’t tested by you somehow accidentally throwing one out of your window, -sometimes what you do astounds you as much as any baffled onlooker, you were sure if anyone used any of them as a bat the only thing breaking would be whatever they were swinging at. You chuckled at the image of auntie Moon using her gift as a bat while playing ball with auntie Sun, letting your thoughts continue to humor you while you finished drying everything up and proceeded to snuff the fire out with a handful of the scarce leftover snow with enough dirt to be proper suffocation material, waiting for everything to be put out before you could head back inside. By now you were humming a familiar wordless tune you can never be sure where you’ve heard it from, your entertained mood evident in every step as you put the clean dishes back into the cupboards and hung the soap rag back up where it belonged, then you promptly knocked any dirt on your hands onto your pant legs as you entered the living room; it was evident a silent discussion had already started without you.

Instead of questioning what your favorite witches may have been talking about you stood behind the chair your auntie Moon sat and gently pulled her hair over the back of it, slowly running your fingers through to comb her enchanting dark hair, it always seemed to rival the beautiful evening skies, and you were always half expecting stars to eventually awaken and shine within her elegant locks, both of your aunt’s had lovely hair; they were lovely in general, it was nearly enough to make you feel plain in comparison, but you knew that wasn’t the case, for if it were why had they kept you even after your debt was paid? It was like running your hand against a prideful raven’s feathers, knowing the trust you had gained made sure you were special enough to be doing such an action, it was so wordlessly awarding, and it always made you feel so happy when your aunt let you do her hair like you truly were family. Any tension against the pleasant air had left with every stroking motion, it was as if you were forcefully brushing out the negativity from her mind, and you didn’t have to see her face to know of the relaxed smile on her lips. You were careful not to tug even if it never bothered her, occasionally letting your nails tenderly scratch against her scalp, though with the barely noticeable way she leaned into you whenever you did, it was as if you had scratched an itch she wasn’t aware she had, it was funnily enough reminiscent of a cat getting scratched under her chin. Running your fingers through you knew there weren’t going to be any tangles to catch them like a net, but continued to do it out of habit from doing your hair, though you paused for a moment as she cleared her throat, letting you know the ‘talk’ was being initiated, whatever the topic may be. Looking across the room while you pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, your eyes caught your other aunt watching you from her chair, the smile on her lips reassuring, yet the gleam in her eyes even seemed to let you know she expected to have her hair done next, making you stifle a giggle as you continue playing with your auntie Moon’s hair.

“Y/n, your aunt and I have noticed you acting a bit different lately, it normally wouldn’t bother us since you’re a growing child, but we’ve begun to worry if we’ve done something wrong. “

“You’re acting distant and we feel a bit left out comet.”

Your aunt Moon paused, shooting a look you couldn’t see to interrupting wife, before sighing, -a motion you could feel under your fingertips as you finished tying her night-encased silken strands into a relaxed fishtail plait, taking a moment to admire how your green ribbon contrasted against her hair before moving over behind your golden aunt, eager as her to repeat the process with her shorter hair. The admiration you held for the strands that made your already optimistic golden aunt seem to glow was shown through your tender touches, it was such a unique natural color no light was ever needed to see her fun adventurous shine. You didn’t like this talk, thinking about your past actions thoroughly through their point of view, feeling your chest swell with the familiar blooms of guilt as you realized yeah, it did seem like you were distancing yourself from them, but you waited for your auntie Moon to finish what she was saying before you rushed to correct your wrong.

“Yes, as your aunt Sun put it, we feel left out. You seem to be growing independent so quickly, and that’s alright, but you shouldn’t feel like you suddenly have to be as independent from us as possible, you’re always supported by us, and you can always ask us for help. We are your aunties after all.”

As your fingers combed through the hair rivaling the golden sunrise, you held on to her words almost impatiently, and as she finally finished speaking you opened your lips; the guilt from the easy misconception of your actions was nearly unbearable as you took note of her tone. Your aunt Moon's words were their usual calm pace, even with curious highlights as if they were searching for the reason why you acted so, but all you could hear was the undertone of hesitance. You could only easily focus on how it felt as if she was on cracked ice while being scared of startling you away like a frightened deer from their confrontation, this wasn't what you meant to do. You pulled out another ribbon from your pocket as you spoke, shaking your head with a fierce denial, your eyes trying to reassure her as you tied your aunt Sun's hair into a bun, your voice trickling like a rapid stream once you got started.

“Wha- No-! Er, no, I mean, truly, you guys have done nothing wrong, this is all my fault, I’m not distancing myself on purpose, I promise! By the stars, I did this so weirdly, and it’s probably the worst way to reveal this, but I was just acting so strange because I was hiding something. You know that project I mentioned? It was a gift for you, both of you. I guess now is a time as any to give them, even though it’s probably horrible timing in reality, but could you close your eyes and extend your hands palms up? I’ll be just a moment, hold on.”

Once you finished what you said you spared no time for their questions as you rushed up the stairs in possibly record timing only to slide down the railing, -you had no time to rush down the stars with the same purposeful adrenaline only to risk stumbling down, even though you nearly slid onto your back as you skidded onto the wooden floors. Each one was held in your arms like a collection of scrolls, -a task you’ve done while running to and fro with auntie Sun during a ritual preparation, before you set the specialized staffs into each set of hands they belonged to, huffing ever so slightly as your tired body caught up with itself. The reason that pushed you to show them being overshadowed as anxious excitement bubbled like a fresh brew, nearly bouncing in your spot as you lifted your hands, your staff that was in your hand slipping from your grasp and flying out of the room with a thud, making you gasp with a choked laugh. Wincing at the noise you turned to look at their curious expressions, though Moon was now obviously more curious about the sudden noise than the weighted item in her hand, so you laughed reassuringly while speaking before walking over to your poor decorated stick, noticing that their hands were exploring each detail. 

“Ack, um, open your eyes! Sorry, I accidentally threw mine. This took a few months in preparation, and I probably could have done better if the due date wasn’t today, but here we go! Happy Valentine’s day aunties!”

You jogged out of the room to grab your staff in a laughable game of fetch, this was the second time you’d done something like this, at least the first time reassured you nothing would have been broken this go round, and when you returned to your gasping aunts that self-disappointment was vaporized, a prideful joy blooming so brightly in your chest you felt it could have burst from your ribs. Each witch was admiring her staff, eyes soaking every detail with amazement so raw in their gazes, the tender way they examined the glass work and carvings with their fingers, it made you feel as if the silent praise was enough to make you melt in a puddle like the snow outside, -you doubt you’d care if the earth absorbed you in the same way as well. Moon held hers upright, turning it in a slow rotation as she tested how it felt for her hands to wrap around the indent points where you made sure to direct where the handler’s palms were supposed to grasp onto, her fingers inspecting if with a tender touch as if it’d be tainted or bruise if she pressed any harder. Each staff was carved from the same wood, dark mesquite that had fallen, -coming across the poor thing was what started off the entire staff project, but they were shaped differently, for Moon, the head curved into an enclosed circle like a hollow moon, for Sun, it curved outward like an outreached hand, and yours simply stood upright, the only interesting thing about the head was what was inside. With the uncommon chips or unwanted scars left from accidental cuts you smoothed out that you were a practicing beginner, but even then you were proud of how well the carvings came out, especially with the varnished shine that brought out the beauty of the wood, and how even though each was unique, they all were connected, just like their owners. Each staff had a patterned design, something unique matching their owner, carved paths to guide the faux vines rooted within them, a set of specific glass flowers adorned to the vines, and wooden fungi embedded into their bodies; despite how vague the theme for each staff was, it worked satisfyingly, neither one so crowded it was unpleasant all the while having enough static to keep the eyes and hands entertained.

For auntie Sun, her staff was adorned with a ribbon of witch butter flowing counterclockwise, while flowing clockwise was the lookalike ivy that was so firmly fastened so securely into the wood it wouldn’t be faulted if one thought they couldn’t cut it while at the same time, it looked to be loose enough it imitated naturally growing vines. Throughout the vine were decorative bundles of three types of glass flowers, specifically snowdrops, honeysuckles, and butterfly orchids, enough detail in each of them their identification was easy if you knew what each looked like already, and they were set together in a way that flattered the others, all in different stages of blooming. One of the more eye-attracting things was the head of the staff, especially what the carved hand seemed to be holding onto, the chunk of bumblebee jasper carved with much more noticeable skill as it took a bright shape of a golden sun with wavy rays held tenderly in the wooden hand’s palm. You watched as she held her staff on its side, tracing the sun curiously before discovering the small sigil tucked into the back of it, - a detail barely visible unless someone was truly looking for small things such as that, and her sapphire optics flashed to you, making you turn to look at your auntie Moon instead, bashful heat rising to your cheeks. Aunt Moon’s staff was similar to auntie Sun’s but entirely different all the same. Like Sun’s it had vines rooted into it, only these were faux black sweet potato vines curling counterclockwise, and the flowers were bundles of scattered nightshade, periwinkles, and forget-me-nots, balanced in their locations to compliment one another in different stages of bloom each distinct in their details. Instead of witch butter, her staff had caps of vibrant violet webcaps nestled into the wood itself, giving the illusion everything was growing naturally out of the wood itself, the groups were made of caps of different sizes, and although it wasn’t clear ribbon like your aunt Sun’s, they created a broken spiral flowing clockwise; even though there was more space unoccupied with faux flora, there were small words and pictures carved into her staff, a sigil of peace they taught you and a sigil for both a happy family and marriage. Also like Sun’s staff the head was the most eye-catching, for in the center of the hollow circle was a chunk of fluorapatite carved into a waning moon, hanging from a small piece of vine as if a suspended blossom, a small barely noticeable rune carved into the back of the crystal.

Suddenly you were aware of the two sets of eyes on the staff in your own hands, making you hold it out more subtly for them to examine, your smile never leaving your face as the silence was filled with so much sound, -keeping it pleasant instead of deafening, while you grew conscious about how your staff wasn’t as humbly extravagant as theirs, but you knew it was noticeable how there was still effort put into its creation so they’d match together. Your staff was more of a mix of both of theirs like it too had the vines, but they were a combination of both ivy and black sweet potato vines twirled together, and your ribbon of wooden fungi was the remainder of witch butter with sparingly placed bundles of the violet webcaps in the gaps. Your glass flowers were buttercups, magnolias, and lilacs, while your crystal centerpiece was a corked bottle made of fluorite embedded into the very wood itself, -a bulge similar to pushing your thumb in a ball of raw cookie dough surrounded the bottle’s base, and the rune in the others was set into the back of the star fastened as the cork, a rune to connect your little family through these walking sticks. Overcoming the mix of raw emotions flooding you all, you stepped to them to hug each of your aunts, though aunt Moon stood up to follow you so when you hugged her wife she squished you in between them, the three of you returning the loving embrace the other two gave for a good solid minute. The feeling of being so cared for, of being so loved in this family, it made you feel like butter and you couldn’t be any more grateful as you were the first to break free from the hug, looking between the staffs propped against the now empty chairs and the one in your hand, then to your aunts who still had one arm wrapped around each other, their smiles matching yours in their ways, and you knew they felt what you did.

“Thank you Y/n, this means a lot to us, more than you’re probably aware.”

“Yeah, thank you! These are so cool, you better believe this is coming along with me to my next travels, it’ll be my new good luck charm since this one over here keeps telling me I’m gonna run out of it soon.”

After they voiced their gratitude towards your hard work you all three began talking about them, leading to you answering questions about their designs, the process of making them, and some fun facts about what you included. You made sure to include how those from the northern village had a large hand in helping you with the tasks, there was the jeweler that carved the crystal pieces for you in exchange for you bringing him five basket fulls of certain crystal types you could find in the caves scattered around the forest or the bottle maker who made the glass flowers if and only if you brought her a very specific type of sand from this strange witch so they would be as strong as rocks with the charm of thin stained glass, and of course including a more detailed summary of the events earlier this morning. It was a difficult path to create these, but you wouldn’t change a thing for the reward you received made it all worthwhile, something you admitted to them before mentioning something else.

“You guys are my family, and I’ll always lean on you, especially right now I know I still have so much to learn, and who else would be better suited than my lesbian aunties? Trust me when I say no matter how independent I become as I grow up, I’ll come to my favorite witches for instruction. Just know I’ll always be your problem, you two are stuck with me like I’m stuck with both of you. Besides, while carving the other night I got my finger, and when I tried what you usually do aunt Moon it just barely learned, so first aid is most certainly one of the things I have to learn from you.”

At those final words, said aunt Moon looked at you and your hand with sudden scrutiny, making you laugh like a child and hide on the other side of your aunt Sun, trying to get out of reach of the staff that was now being pointed to you in a playfully threatening manner, causing your golden aunt to raise her hand in surrender.

“Alright, I admit it! I stole something, just be gentle, miss guard.”

Her sudden admission made you both freeze in confusion, and once she knew both of you were hooked she made a show of looking side to side, hands still suspended while she awaited the magical words that left her raisin-haired lover’s lips, playing along while wondering where this was going.

“What did you steal?”

“Your heart~”

She then jumped forward to hug Moon, the force making the two fall and even though you moved to help, you only got pulled down with them. Laughter filled the lively air, even as you sat up beside the two while your aunt Sun continued to simply lay on top of aunt Moon, who was far from complaining about the situation, and you poked her pale cheek with a snicker to steal her attention slightly.

“Do you think you could put the medical stuff on my tab?”

You three continued to play around, making jokes for the simple reason to hear the other two laugh and savoring the time you all were spending together, the sounds of pleasant enjoyment were as loud into the forest as the calls of the lone wolf were, but the forest didn’t seem to mind. They were sounds dearly missed and with their return, they were welcomed back with open arms, for the small family of witches and the human were accepted as a part of these woods as the very trees themselves. The moon eventually was high enough to be nestled in the longing arms of the calling stars, by the time it had arrived overhead the family decided to gather rest and said their goodnights, climbing into bed knowing that this page of your story will never be forgotten.

--

Thistles had long since overtaken her garden, the smoke clawing its way into all of her senses, as all the eternal flowers, -flowers that were in reality as fragile as the living, hid from her outreached hands in the underbrush like forgotten treasures; she refuses to forget them. All she can see now as she flew away were the rhododendrons blooming from her heart, their stems suffocating, while the wood against her hand did nothing but echo back the laughter of bells to never chime again. They rang, be it of support or torment, she could never be sure, while the ghost of a life that once was finally removed its hand from her throat to release her voice. Her anguished cries came out in choking sobs, salty drops of rain leaving cloudy eyes to water the witch’s cruel bouquet, for she knew they could never be enough to put out the fire.