#my new cherry tree is doing well ! i put it near the greenhouse so it can provide a bit of shade in summer

[hedgehog-moss]

Soir de mai 🌸

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Little Witch | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies, I’m finally back with some Mikaleson Brothers content. I’ve had this idea for a while and rewrote it about a thousand times. I’m not sure if I love this but I needed to just finish it. I feel like it’s not that great but regardless I’m giving it to you. It’s super fluffy and a quick burn romance but, hey, who doesn’t like kissing me you just met you know? In all seriousness I hope you’re all doing well. I know life is really off right now and I hope this helps. All my love <3 until next time loves!

Description: Hogwarts and The Originals crossover, disbelief must be suspended for this one as we all know some of this doesn’t add up, soulmate AU

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: there are no warnings

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: FLUFF

Tag List: @activist-af , @hellotvshowtrash , @firebirdsalvatore

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

“There you are, sweetheart,” her gentle voice breaks through you dreams, pulling you from the same scene you’ve grown used to seeing for the last couple weeks, “you’re going to miss dinner sleepyhead.”

You awake to a familiar picture: your books sprawled across a desk in the middle of the library and a fiery redhead with a soft smile holding a semi-crumpled cardigan towards you. Her eyes twinkle with laughter and familiarity. This isn’t the first time Arabella has found you asleep after you told her you were going to be studying. When you look down at your divination textbook you notice a small pink smudge from your cherry lip gloss. You wipe your fingers around your lips, collecting the rest of your smeared makeup.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your limbs out with a soft groan, “shoot, I fell asleep again. What time is it, Ari?”

“Quarter to six, hun,” she reaches out to brush some fallen hair out of your eyes, “we should really get a move on. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, this time the yawn interrupting any intention to answer that you had. Your head buzzes lightly with the remnants of your dream. For weeks you’ve felt something on the horizon, something meant just for you. Three pairs of brown eyes and the warmest feeling in your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve been waking up with every night, if not a touch stronger this evening. You don’t mind it though, it layers a warmth to your bones that this winter in the castle has stripped from you.

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately is all,” you let Arabella help you slip your cardigan back on, straightening it and your tie, evening the yellow and gray stripes. 

Her hands still against your shoulders, her concerned green eyes meeting your own half open ones, “still having those dreams, sunshine?” 

You nod once more, sagging slightly from the weight of your tote when she loops it over your shoulder. Your skin tingles with slight electricity, lulling your already fuzzy brain into a deeper haze. You tug your sleeves over your hands, scrunching your fingers into a fist to try and regain some awareness.

“Hmm,” Arabella pushes the same strand of hair from your forehead again, removing her headband and putting it on you instead to keep your unruly strands in place, “remind me to make you some tea before bed. I have some herbs from the greenhouse that might help with them. Let’s go get some food into you first though, ok?

She links her arm through yours, pulling you alongside her towards the dining hall. The corridors are mostly empty, spare a few behind students. Much like yourselves, they hurry in the same direction, following the wafting smell of roasted chicken and pumpkin pie. You can’t help but shiver as you watch them rush, feeling like someone forgot to tell you something. As if everyone knows a secret that you very well must have snoozed through.

“Hey Ari,” you tug lightly on her sleeve to get her attention, “why is everyone in such a hurry? Did I miss something?”

She looks confused for a moment, her button nose scrunching tight before her mouth falls open, “oh yes, that’s right! I forgot to tell you! Some seventh year prefects overheard McGonagall talking about some exchange students from Ilvermorny. They’re supposed to be here for dinner!”

Your skin crackles with electricity, the air static with anticipation, “Ilvermorny? They’re from America?”

She nods her head cheerfully as the two of you approach the towering doors of the dining hall, “I know, it’s crazy right?”

You can hear the buzz of activity emitting from the hall before you cross the corridor, a dull roar that lights you with an even mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

“They certainly think so,” you motion to the giggling fourth year girls who scurry past you, their chatter no doubt about the possibility of Hogwarts’ newest additions. 

The current coursing through your body sings when Arabella pulls you through the doors. The dining hall is a flurry of activity, each house no doubt wondering if they’ve gained any new members tonight. The thought of some new Hufflepuffs warms your heart. You haven’t had any new faces around in ages it feels like. You let her lead you to a few seats left open near the front of the hall, next to the small stage.

You fall into your seat with a sigh, graciously accepting the plate of food Arabella hands you. How she made it so quick you aren't sure. Magic probably, that would make the most sense. When you glance over at her she has her wand out, levitating food onto her own plate. She always puts you ahead of herself, something you can't help but feel bad about sometimes. Regardless, it warms your heart immensely to be lucky enough to have such a caring best friend. You catch her eye and she passes you a loving smile and a wink before lowering her plate. 

As you take the first bite of your pumpkin pie, ignoring the nudge you get for eating your dessert first, Headmistress McGonogal taps her wand to the podium in front of her.

“Students,” she clears her throat, waiting for the noise in the great hall to quiet, “as quite a few of you have already heard by now,” she searches you all with a glint in her eye, a small smile on her lips, “we have a few students joining us.”

The great hall buzzes at her admission, a current running through the entirety of the student body and, most of all, you. Your head feels like it’s spinning. Like you’ve just drunk a litre of fire whiskey and that if you stand up there’s a good chance you’ll fall right over. You drop your fork but the clatter it makes doesn’t register with you as much as it should. Arabella looks over at you, clearly worried, and raises her eyebrows, placing a warm hand on your back. 

As you go to shrug your shoulders at her, the doors to the great hall open once more, “ah, and here they are! Please, everyone, show them your warmest welcome. They have come a long way, all the way from Ilvermorny in the United States.”

McGonogal continues to speak about Hogwarts and its connection to Ilvermorny but her speech is drowned out by cheering from all over the great hall. Well, you’re pretty sure it is. Your pulse is thundering so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear much of anything at all. Arabella stares at you still, growing more and more scared as the seconds pass. You think you say something, you open your mouth at least, but whatever words come out of your mouth don’t reach your ears. Arabella tightens her grip.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, desperately willing your senses to go back to normal. It almost works too but then you breathe in and are hit with three scents so hard that you almost vomit. Not because they’re terrible, though, they’re anything but. No, you almost puke because of how fast you’re swamped in pine and buttery leather and the entire damn sea and how quickly it makes your heart rate spike. Are you having a heart attack? What is going on?

When you open your eyes the great hall is spinning and you know for a fact that you’re the only one experiencing this carousel ride. You have to get out of here. You push away from the table, standing on legs much too shaky for your own good. Arabella calls your name and it sounds like she’s behind a thick sheet of glass, one you can’t break no matter how hard you slam against it. The trees and leather and sea wraps around you again and your knees almost give out. There’s only one thing you can think to do and you don’t hesitate to do it. 

You run like hell. 

No. Scratch that. You run like hell is chasing you and, well, maybe it is. Maybe hell is a person, or people, perhaps even three people, and their footsteps pound down the corridor behind you so loud they echo through your chest. Your kilt whips around your legs, your hair flying behind you as you clear the corners as they come. You can feel them, whoever they are, gaining but slowly. You can make it, you know you can.

It’s midwinter, the thick of February, and yet you feel like you’re wading through lava. The halls should be ice right now but your blood is scorching you from the inside out. You pull the sweater from your chest as you run, not thinking twice before dropping it, never stopping. Your skin is charged with electricity and you want to scream and tear your heart out but you can’t, not now. You feel them like they’re right on your heels, the triplet of scents swirling furiously around you. You need to get outside. Now. 

You make it to the courtyard, practically leaping off the cement steps, but a hand catches your arm midair and you stumble. You see the ground hurtling towards you in slow motion, the cobblestone path laughing at you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the stones to bite into your side but they never do. Instead you’re wrapped in pine, two warm arms pulling you into a firm, hot chest. 

You thought your skin was electrified before but that was nothing compared to what is now. Everywhere your body touches the person holding you prickles with static. You can almost hear your flesh crackle, each one of your veins roaring so loud that all you can hear is your blood rushing through you. It’s like a tsunami, waves of fire and power and fucking pine rolling over you unrelentlessly. You aren’t quite sure if you’re still breathing.

You feel another pair of hands on your back, rubbing up and down, spreading the fire like butter over your shoulder blades. Your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching into whoever it is behind you, your head falling onto a shoulder that smells like summer at the beach. 

A part of you is screaming to run. To jab your elbow into their stomach and fight like hell. However, against all of your better judgement, the feeling is fading and fast. Hands skim down your arms lightly and you fight the delicious shiver that crawls up your spine. You don’t realize you’re still clinging to the first person until your fists squeeze around the cotton of their shirt. Their hands hand loosely off your hips and you don’t even want to acknowledge how much you like it. 

Instead of fighting, you pry your eyes open, only to stare directly into strikingly familiar brown eyes. Your breath catches in your chest, your head still against his shoulder. He leans closer towards you, blonde hair falling down his face slightly. It looks entirely soft and you squeeze your hands tighter, resisting the urge to touch this stranger’s hair. His scent, that overbearing ocean, wraps around you again. He definitely doesn’t feel like a stranger.

“Hi love,” his voice is soft and lulls you deeper into his chest, his nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone, “you’re lucky we’re fast. That could have been quite the fall.”

He chuckles lightly and your cheeks flame, the noise like the wind chimes you hung in the greenhouse your fourth year. His laugh hits you in the gut and radiates to every inch of your skin, cooling the flames but also concentrating them lower. Too low. Your traitorous core sets on fire from the mixture of his musical laugh and mesmerizing eyes. Merlin, you don’t even know his name.

You look away from him but you can’t escape his eyes no matter how hard you try, looking directly into an identical pair of warm, brown eyes. The man in front of you, the one with his hands squeezing your hips, is also frustratingly familiar. He’s tall, his chest, the one underneath your fingertips, is broad and heaves up and down with every breath. Your body, being the wanton force of nature she is, longs to have you wrap your legs, and every other part of you, around the man in front of you. When the blonde behind you wraps his arms around your stomach, reminding you that he’s still there, you want to do the same to him as well.

Memories prickle the edges of your mind, the dreams you’ve been having for weeks now flashing behind your eyelids every time you blink. The warmth in your bones and the molten brown eyes. The same electricity that is burning through your chest and head and core, only now it’s a million times stronger. You shake your head. Not at the man in front of you but at yourself. No way are these the men from your dreams. That’s impossible, Right? And besides, there were three eyes in your dreams.

“There you guys are,” a voice, steadily approaching and as slow and tantalizing as honey, pulls your attention away from the men surrounding you, “I can’t believe you left me to explain what was happening to McGonagall.”

You meet the third pair of eyes with an audible gasp, his sharp leather scent curling around you despite the distance between the two of you. It sinks into your skin and puts you in motion, like the potion you needed to break whatever paralyzing spell you were under. You pull yourself so suddenly from the two men that they don’t have time to catch you, putting some much needed distance between all four of you. You force yourself to ignore the way your heart aches already. Your hand finds the wand in your kilt pocket. Stupid girl, longing for men you don’t even know. 

You find your voice but only enough to mutter hastily, “Were you chasing me? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting, like, the whole school right now? What in Merlin’s name is going on?” 

The newest male takes a step towards you, his eyes drawing up and down your body, reigniting the heat that has been slowly subsiding and lingering on your hand wrapped around your wand. He smirks at you, like he knows something that you don’t and, honestly, he probably does. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hair is dark brown and just as touchable as the previous two. You squeeze your fist tighter.

“One question at a time, darling,” he takes another step and you tense your shoulders instinctively even though your body is fighting the urge to run to him, “we’ll tell you everything. Can we go inside first, though? You look like you’re freezing. Is this yours?”

His question isn’t really a question, in his hands is your cardigan. He picked it up for you? You let your shoulders sag slightly and your grip loosen. He doesn’t know you, why did he bother picking it up?

“I-,” you release the wand slowly, “yeah that’s mine. Thank you.”

He’s right about the cold, now that you aren’t sandwiched between the other two men the chill nips at your fingers and legs. You go to take your sweater from him but he holds it open, beckoning you to turn around and let him put it on you for you. You sigh but oblige, tucking your arms into the soft wool with his help. His hands smooth down your arms once you’re settled, the familiar sparks following their path. You’re head squeezes with confusion and you want to scream if only to release the pressure.

You turn in his hands, meaning to break his hold but only ending up closer to his chest, “what is going on?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The ache in your heart eases drastically and you breathe in the leather once more. Merlin’s sake, this is exhausting. Even so, your limbs feel lighter in his arms. His eyes burn into yours and you don’t even try to look away, letting him extract whatever information he wants from you. You’re almost sure he can read every thought flashing through your eyes.

“Can’t you feel it?” His hand brushes your cheek, your skin buzzing on cue, “feel us? Like there’s a string pulling you to us, right? We feel warm, don’t we, and you want to be near us. You feel like you know us but you don’t know how or why.”

You find yourself nodding along to the words of a man whose name you don’t even know yet, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

“Who are you,” you turn to meet the other two, your eyes wide, “all of you.” 

The second man, the one who caught you, steps forward, holding out a hand for you to take. You aren’t sure why but you look back to the male in front of you, the one with his arms still tight around you, for approval. He nods, letting his arms fall almost reluctantly. When he releases you, you’re quickly pulled back into the pine scented chest. You don’t like how easily your body moulds to his, how his body seems to have some sort of claim on yours. How all of their bodies do.

“Elijah,” he rests his chin against your head, caging you against a chest that feels too much like home to make any sense, “I’m Elijah. You were just talking to Kol and Klaus-”

The hands, the same ones from before, once again rest on your back, drawing a traitorous sigh from your lips, “is right behind you, love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart squeezes dangerously at his words, letting them fill you with the warmth of his promise. Even if your rationality doesn't accept it for the immediate truth it is, every other part of you does. You pull out of Elijah’s arms and turn to the ocean of a man behind you, throwing your arms around his neck without a second thought. He, too, feels like coming home. He takes no time squeezing you against him and burying his face in your neck. You feel hands behind you move your hair away from your neck and then a nose drawing up the exposed bumps of your spine. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” you mumble into Klaus’ shoulder, “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

“Of course you do, darling. You can feel it in your bones,” Kol pushes his nose against your temple, his lips skimming your ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Merlin. His teeth on your skin sends heat pooling in the pit of your belly. You tighten your arms around Klaus, biting back an embarrassing moan as he laughs again. This time the sound echos through your chest and wraps around your heart, grabbing on and refusing to let go. Kol’s lips skim down your jaw, nipping lightly at your throat in a way that is completely inappropriate for a man you just met but you don’t care right now. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and you sink back into them, letting Elijah spin you and haul you into his chest. Your head is spinning from how quickly you’re being passed around by men you don’t know. Your heart stings slightly, the comfort you feel in the large male’s arms screaming at you. Perhaps you don’t know them but your body has been waiting centuries for them and is more than ready to reunite. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around him. 

“Baby,” your heart stutters and his pupils expand like he can hear it, “do you mind if we go back to our dorm before anyone sees us?” Elijah glances over your head, searching around the courtyard before landing back on yours, “This is a lot to explain to one person, let alone the whole school.”

Your cheeks flame for the millionth time and your head whips around, searching the courtyard yourself for any prying eyes. You breathe a quick sigh of relief when you don’t see anyone. He’s right and, besides, you really are freezing now, your exposed legs two icicles.

You smile gently at him, savouring the way his eyes draw to your lips, “that’s probably a good idea.”

You go to unwrap your legs from his hips when he stops you, his hands tightening around your back and thighs, “may I?”

Your eyes widen, your hands stilling on his shoulders, “you want to carry me?”

He leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently, “very much so, baby.”

Your heart feels like it restarts, kicking your pulse into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself to speak, your entire body engulfed in pine and flames like a forest fire that you never knew could exist. You just nod, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel every breath he takes, closing your eyes when he begins walking. 

The hallways, thankfully, feel empty and you don’t open your eyes, letting yourself sink into Elijah’s chest like you’ve been doing it your whole life and this isn’t your first experience being held by someone as large and strong as him. Your fingers, laying on the back of his neck, can’t resist shuffling through his hair. You’re already in his arms anyway, so what’s the harm. Just as you thought, his hair is soft to the touch and mesmerizing. You tangle your fingers through it, the last dregs of anxiety seeping from your bones. 

When he starts down a staircase that you aren’t anticipating you tighten your fingers, squeezing your thighs to keep from falling out of his arms. In turn Elijah releases a breathy groan, one that hits you directly between your thighs. When you open your eyes you’re met with a coal black instead of the warm brown from minutes ago. Your breath catches in your throat but not from fear, albeit it should be. You know you should be painfully afraid of this man, whom you barely know, whose arms are wrapped around you so tight it almost hurts, but you aren’t. Not even a little bit. 

Not even when he opens his mouth and you see two, very sharp looking fangs poking out of his gums, “Eli?”

You don’t know where the nickname comes from and, honestly, you don’t care. All you can think about is the irrational heat growing between your legs and his hands, once again squeezing your hips. Who is this man and why do you want him to press you against the stairs and do unspeakable things to you? You look over his shoulders at Kol and Klaus, whose eyes aren’t quite the same charcoal as Elijah’s but definitely not the sunshine whiskey that they were before. You have to bite your lip again to keep from squeezing your legs harder around Elijah. 

“Come on,” Klaus steps ahead of you and Elijah, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking teasingly, “I can hear people leaving the Great Hall.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. How can he possibly hear the Great Hall from here? You glance back to Elijah, the sight of his fangs flashing through your mind. You shake your head, not wanting to think about any of this right now. You reach a hand up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheek like any of this at all is normal.

“Klaus is right, Eli. We need to figure this out before it gets around the school.” More than it already is, you add in your head.

The four of you somehow make it to their dorm and you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s segregated from the rest of the dorms. McGonagall probably gave them their own dorm to make them feel more comfortable. You’re just thankful to be away from the open space. You already know the entire school will be talking about what happened. Merlin why is it always you? You’re just a Hufflepuff, you didn’t sign up for any of this. 

Their dorm is magnificent. The doorway leads into a moody common room, surrounded with cozy browns and greens. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there’s a window looking out into the lake. The waves lap against the glass and you giggle as a few fish swim by, stopping to look into the room and then continue on their way. The room smells like all three of them. Like every plain of earth and sea and air. There are four doors leading to what you can only assume are their bedrooms and bathroom. Compared to your dorm, which you love but also share with five other girls, this place is an oasis.

Elijah sets you on an incredibly soft, brown leather couch and you pull your legs up, tucking them underneath you. Kol settles next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch, behind your head. Klaus sits on your other side, pulling your legs from under you and over his lap, his hands rubbing circles on your calves. With your back now to Kol, you can’t help but let your head fall to the side against his arm, soaking in the warmth of his skin. The dungeons are colder than you thought they would be. How do the Slytherins do it? He laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to lay against his chest. 

Elijah settles on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at you with a look only slightly less hot than before. You hold a hand out for him, one he quickly takes, threading his fingers between yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips. Klaus’ hands are slowly working up your legs, now wrapped around your knees and steadily moving higher. You squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and staring at the ceiling, avoiding three pairs of brown eyes to the best of your ability.

You sigh gently, leaning into Kol’s hands as his fingers search through your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you almost keep your thoughts to yourself if only to ensure he doesn’t stop. But you need answers now.

“Okay, I’m serious this time,” your eyes train on a bookshelf, counting the books to keep yourself focussed, “who are you? You clearly aren’t like me, you aren’t witches, but you definitely aren’t regular people,” you suck in a breath, your eyes stalling on a thick book titled The History of Mythical Creatures, “so what, pray tell, are you?”

Your eyes stay focussed on the book but you don’t want to entertain the thoughts flowing through your mind. You had to read that volume in your seventh year myth class. Just because you’re a witch it doesn’t mean you’re used to the creatures you’re taught about. There’s a reason every student at Hogwarts takes eight years of defensive magic.

“You got us, little witch,” Klaus’ hands are above your knees now, kneading your exposed flesh with skilled fingers, “clever and beautiful. The perfect mate.”

Your eyes snap from the bookshelf, from the book that you know holds the answer to their identity, to the blonde lazily licking his own extended fangs. Mate. Did he just say mate? There’s no way he just said mate. Impossible. You’re a witch. As far as being mythical goes, you’re as close to normal as it gets. They, however, are something stronger. You can feel the power rolling off of them. 

“I,” your mouth falls open, your mind spinning, “what?”

Kol laughs from behind you, his chest rumbling under your back. He pulls your hair to the side again before capturing your ear with his mouth again. 

“You heard him, darling,” he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, pulling a tiny gasp from you as, “your ours. And, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pretty hard to get rid of. ”

Klaus’ hands squeeze right below the hem of your kilt, lighting your skin with the delicious sparks. If his hands weren’t there you would be squeezing your legs together for sure.

“He’s right, love, I’ve tried. Many times,” Klaus smirks at Kol in only the way an older brother could and it hits you.

“Oh, Merlin,” you close your eyes again, heat flaring across your face, “you’re brothers. All three of you are brothers. What is going on, Helga help me.”

All three of them laugh and Elijah kisses your knuckles again, “yes baby, we are in fact brothers. It’s been a long millennium.”

“Millenium?” You feel faint.

He laughs again and you wish you could pluck the sound out of the air and hold onto it for the rest of your life. When you look at him all you can do is smile and run a hand down your face. A thousand years, huh? Klaus’ hands trace lazy circles on your inner thighs as Kol’s lips find your neck, his teeth scraping your skin in a way that has you sinking even further into his buttery leather arms. When he bites down a touch harder you can’t help but wonder what kind of experience a thousand years would allow a person. 

A thousand years. Your chest stings unexpectedly as another thought hits you. It must be the day for that.

“I don’t think I’ll live a millenium. I probably have a few hundred years but a thousand? Not even close,” your heart stutters, a cold chill running over you, “You’ll all outlive me.”

Three growls sound in the room and you almost jump out of your skin in shock before you realize that they’re coming from them. Kol tightens his arms around you protectively as Klaus’ hands find your hips under your kilt, squeezing you like you just suggested you’re going to die tomorrow. Elijah drops from the coffee table, sinking to his knees in front of you and throwing an arm over your stomach. 

“You’ll be living a lot longer than that, baby, I assure you of that.”

You reach a hand towards Elijah, curling your fingers through his hair on instinct, “I may be magic, Eli, but I’m not immortal. It’s not the same for me.”

He leans into your palm, rubbing his cheek against your fingertips, “that’s an easy fix.”

Your head spins, the pieces connecting in your head as you stare into his serious eyes. For the first time all night a tinge of fear zaps your chest. Immortality is no joke.

“You want me to become like you?” You look away from him and Klaus, who nods in agreement with his brother, “You want me to become a-”

Kol nips the back of your neck and you try to ignore the pleasure rolling through you in the midst of the most serious conversation of your life, “a vampire, darling. You can say it. We’re vampires.”

The word echoes through you, bouncing around your head and lungs, fluttering in your stomach before finally settling directly between your thighs. Merlin. You sit upright quickly, pulling your legs from Klaus’ dangerously skilled fingers, and all but stumble over Elijah and the coffee table in order to put some distance between you and the brothers. You scrub your hands over your face, your entire body feeling more alive than it ever has in your short lifetime. But you know it can’t last.

You keep your hands over your eyes, letting the open air sooth you for a moment before speaking, “I’m just a witch. Just one witch and not even a good one at that,” you peel your hands from your eyes, opting instead to tug your hair, “I’m more of a farmer, honestly. I spend all my time in the library or the greenhouses. I’m not mate material. I’m definitely not,” you swallow thickly, your throat closing all of a sudden and without your permission, “vampire material. You have the wrong girl.”

As soon as you say the words they feel wrong but they’re already out of your mouth and you have to live with them now. For a long moment nobody says anything. It’s just you standing in front of them, your eyes refusing to open and your hands ripping at your hair. Your legs tremble beneath you and it feels like your heart is trying to crawl out of your throat. If it can’t be with them then it would rather stop beating altogether. The cold air of their dungeon dorm nips at your legs and fingertips painfully and you revel in the feeling of something other than the torrent of emotions that you’ve been battling for the better half of an hour. 

You feel a rush of air in front of you, forcing your eyes open just in time to see Kol standing in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to let even more words that you know you’ll regret out, but you find that you can’t speak. Not because you don’t want to, though, but because Kol’s mouth is now crashing into yours and, gods, does it ever feel like you’re breathing for the first time. Kol’s mouth is oxygen. Like before this moment you were dead and his lips are life. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into the taught muscle to keep yourself upright against this force of nature. 

His hands wrap in your hair and he tugs gently, swallowing each moan like it’s candy and he can’t get enough. Your hands crawl from his shoulders to his hair, doing the same to him. He groans, a sound completely different from Elijah but so similar at the same time. When his tongue finds its way between your lips you see stars. Your blood sings like you’ve walked through a magnetic field, your veins buzzing with a foreign kind of power. This time you don’t feel like you’re home, you know you are.

Kol pulls back a fraction, his lips brushing yours while he speaks, “you feel that?” His hands move to your cheeks, your skin like a current where he touches you, “I know you do, I know you feel me in your veins, darling. I don’t have the wrong person. Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes widen and you push back the swell of emotion rising in your chest.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, a riptide pulling you into an ocean of a man, “me as well, my little witch. Besides, I quite like farmers. Tell me, can you grow strawberries?”

You try to stop yourself from sagging against his chest but you can’t and you don’t actually want to. His head falls on yours as if he’s been doing it for years.

“Pumpkins,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, knowing full well you aren’t ready to answer the other questions, “I grow the best pumpkins in the school.”

Klaus’ chest rumbles like a cat purring against your back, “pumpkin pie it is then, love.”

You feel a hand close around your arm, pulling you from both Kol and Klaus and into a pair of arms that rival the dark forest. Elijah lifts you against his chest, giving you a moment to wrap your legs around him before he walks the two of you to the window. He looks out in the water and it eases you knowing that you don’t have to answer to his molten brown eyes.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, baby. I know you’re scared and tired, I can feel it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. But just know that we’re here because something stronger than time itself brought us to you. No mistakes were made,” he catches your eyes through the reflection of the glass, “I’m ready for whatever challenges this brings. I’ve been ready for a thousand years, ten lifetimes, and I would wait fifty more for you,” he pulls you further up his chest, pressing his forehead against yours, “just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours, “graduation.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and his eyebrows scrunched together, “what?”

You pull his face back to yours, stealing another kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return, “I just need until graduation. I need to finish my last year here, it’s my home. After that, I’m yours.”

He crushes you against him as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips and you let yourself giggle freely. He looks at you in awe, a smile blooming across his face like he just won the lottery. Kol and Klaus are next to you in an instant, their faces almost mirror images of Elijah’s. Your heart soars at the sight of the three boys you met less than three hours ago who you’ve just promised the rest of your life, and longer, to. It sounds ridiculous still but nothing has ever felt so right.

“Well, brothers,” Klaus’ eyes shine happily, “it looks like we’re going to be here longer than we thought.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes, #32

Hello, Lovies. How have you been? I’ve been well. The new laptop gets in later today and I hope to be writing more and perhaps next  month we may even see a one shot come into existence! 

I’ve gotten a slight rash of new followers, some of whom are minors. Unlike some, I do not ban minors from my blog however, I do clearly mark any content that they should avoid. As a general reminder, please always check the content warnings, found at the start of every fic and every chapter.  I am an adult of nearly 30 years, I write adult topics and themes.

Chapter warnings: Blood, death.

Series warnings: Smut, blood, graphic death, sexual assault, child death, miscarriage, dead babies- look, if it can be a trigger, it’s in here. 

Masterlist  Kofi  AO3

Chapter 32: What If?

Clint relished the silence in the truck for a few moments as he backed along the gravel driveway. The weeds and grass would encroach on it come spring but for now, it was a mix of ice and gravel mixed with snow. The tracks from his truck were the only ones and if they were lucky, that would remain the case. 

Spring would be upon them before they knew it. In much of the country, frozen bodies would begin to rot and a wave of sickness would spread. He wondered how many clusters of people were smart enough to take advantage of the cold to remove bodies. 

Not nearly enough, he was sure. No one wants to look at the dead, let alone touch them. Hell, he didn’t want to either. But when it needed to get done, it needed to get done. The sickness would kill many more if the dead were allowed to rot in the cities. It would be far better to be in a rural town during the warm months. 

How many more people will have died between now and spring? Food stores were likely low in most places by now. He knew he was having to travel farther and farther to find processed and packaged foods, giving proof to that fact. How many would starve to death this winter? So many would due to not knowing how to cook without the processed ingredients or how to store raw foods without a refrigerator. How many would eat toxic or spoiled food, not knowing how to tell what was safe to eat? How many wouldn’t know how to turn flour and yeast into bread? 

Those thousands were not his problem. His problem was limited to three other people and a baby. Shaking his head, he banished thoughts of infant formula away. It was a worry for another day. With enough food and Sasha’s help, Rachel would at least be able to supplement the formula with her own milk. Lizzy just needed to make it four or five more months. 

When he reached the open road, he stopped and waited. He sat there with his thoughts for half an hour and watched for any signs of life. There was no smoke from what could be other fireplaces. There were no other signs of people. It was exactly what Clint wanted to see. 

Finally, when he was sure enough that there was no one around, he pulled onto the old highway. It’d been mostly abandoned in the last ten years when a new interstate had routed near but the locals had still favored it. He had still favored it. 

Now, he was thankful for the interstate. Most migrating people would follow the interstates with their wide lanes, direct routes and clear signs. It would keep them away from his little hole in the country. 

Turning on the radio as he went, he hit the scan button. The radio searched through the airwaves, trying to find a signal. When it found none, he repeated the process with the AM frequencies. There was the same emergency broadcast, going in and out. It was weaker now. Clint was sure the emergency generator was finally giving out. 

As he pulled up to the gate, he thought about calling Nat. He thought about telling her what they did, that King Jacob was dead. He thought about telling her the things running through his mind. For a moment, he even picked up the satellite phone from where it had sat forgotten in the cup holder. He thought about asking her to come out, to pick him and Dee up and take them to New York.

Fingers dialed the number as he pulled up the hill. His thumb hovered over the button with the green phone. He only had to press it. 

His eyes looked up from the phone as he rolled to a stop in front of the house. He could see the motorhome and the chickens. He could see the shed that doubled as a year around grow room. He saw their life and instead of hitting the call button, he flipped the phone over. 

Without bothering to power it down, he pulled the back off and removed the battery before breaking the old style flip phone in two. He tossed the parts into the back of the truck when he got out. 

He couldn’t be like them. He couldn’t support people like King Jacob and King Mason being given power after they had hurt so many. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it. 

As he fed the chickens and gave their coop and pen a quick clean, he wondered if that was what Dee had been dancing around. Would she go with him, if he set out to remove another abusive self named king from power? Would she think he was just a vengeful killer? Was he just a vengeful killer?

There were a good number of eggs in the coop and Clint was thankful for them. They were laying and earning their keep. Feeding chickens food scraps and getting eggs in return was far better than eating the chickens. He left a handful of eggs in the nests. If they were lucky, they would hatch. He picked up older eggs, saved for the same reason and marked with a black dot. Using the light of the sun, he checked them for signs of development and life. Inside, there was a shadow of something growing. Later, he would come out with a flashlight and look properly but that was good enough for now. 

The rooster Tony eyed him with disgust. Clint flipped the bird off as he walked into the house. The damned bird should be thankful he wasn't turned into fried chicken yet. Clint was all for using the male to breed the females and have enough chicken and eggs to eat some of both. There was only one rooster though and he worried about genetics. He'd have to eventually worry about finding someone else with chickens to trade and diversify the genetics.

In a cabinet above the refrigerator, he pulled down an empty egg carton and filled it. Laura had always talked about getting chickens when he had finished his countless projects to improve the house. She gathered cartons to remind him or annoy him, he wasn’t sure which. He never did finish the house for her. Even now, it was unfinished. Now there were chickens. 

From the deep freezer he grabbed bags of meat. Deer and turkey, mostly whole cuts though he had ground some scraps up. He didn’t pull much out- if it spoiled he didn’t want much to waste. He dropped the bags into a cooler he had partially filled with snow and ice.

He hoped that would work, if kept outside and in the shade, to keep the foods frozen and good for the winter. There was always the question of the weather. This winter had been different than he had seen in the ten years he’d owned the land.

Somehow, it was both colder and harsher than what was normal but it was also warmer. There was a layer of melted snow and ice sandwiched between snowfalls. More often than not, the sky was full of heavy dark clouds. He wondered how long it would take for the ash and dust to truly settle. 

He loaded up a box with bags of dried pasta and canned vegetables and fruit. On top, he set onions, a few potatoes and a handful of squash. He filled another box with apples, cans of pie filling and tossed on a few cook books. He filled large gallon bags with flour and sugar from their stores. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. After putting everything in the bed of the truck and securing it, he made his way to the shed turned greenhouse. 

The plants inside looked to have been growing well. He had put the lights on a timer before they had left on the off chance that they’d be gone for more than a night. The fact that he had managed to convert the shed into a functional greenhouse was something he was proud of. 

Trees grew in large pots, waiting for spring when he would plant them outside. A few small buds grew on the branches of a few citrus trees. He fingered them as he passed. They hadn’t expected any fruit from the trees for at least a year. These buds would likely grow into fruits too small to eat, if they matured at all. 

Moving down the aisles, he pulled his knife from it’s sheath at his thigh. The tomatoes had grown well in the greenhouse and the vines of little cherry sized fruit were heavy and bright red. He slipped three of the vines into the box. There were a few zucchini. He hesitated for a bit before snagging two of the vegetables to add to the box. 

They were not thriving in the makeshift greenhouse. He knew once spring came and he transplanted them outside, it would be a completely different story. By summer they would have more zucchini than they would ever want to eat. That would be the case for many of the vegetables. Luckily, they would keep well enough in the cellar.

They would freeze or can much of the excess for the next winter. If they were lucky, next winter they wouldn’t have to fear where they would get their next meal. There was another reason he planted more than they needed was for trading. He held very little  hope that nationwide supply systems would be functional by then.

There were many who would be suffering from lack of food this winter. Clint strived to make sure that they were not among them. They would have food- sure there would be an overabundance of some things and they’d get tired of eating the same foods but they would not be hungry. 

Still, he knew their supplies were thin when accounting for supplying Sasha through the winter. There was no doubt that to supply Rachel and Lizzy it would eat into their supplies. Clint would have to spend more time hunting to supplement what they were growing. Worse yet, he knew he would have to travel farther and farther each time he went out for supplies. 

Clint picked a few handfuls of strawberries and called that a day. Sure, there was more ready for harvest. There was food stored in the cellar and pantry but it wasn’t enough. If he had to pick between him and Dee starving or Rachel, Sasha and Lizzy starving, he would choose to keep his food. 

He loaded up the back of the truck before pulling himself into the driver’s seat. Rather than start the engine, he sat there thinking with his eyes on the barn. His thoughts swam. The desire to help someone warred with his desire to put himself and the woman he loved first. 

He grumbled. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Finally, he rolled his eyes and signed. Opening the door, he slipped back out of the truck and stomped back to the barn. There was no one to witness his tantrum but that did nothing to stop him from throwing one.

He grabbed a large potted cherry tomato plant. The branches and stems slapped him in the face. While he carried it to the truck, all he could think about was how much the plant stank. He was never a fan of the smell of tomato plants. He slipped it into the floor space behind the passenger seat.

He went back to the barn and grabbed potted lettuce plants and berries as well. Whether Sasha had a green thumb or not, he didn’t know but at least they would have some sort of food growing. It wouldn’t be enough to support them. They wouldn’t be able to survive off lettuce, tomatoes and berries alone if he wasn’t able to supplement their supplies but it was something. 

The engine roared to life as Clint decided enough was enough. He turned around in the drive and made his way down the dirt road. The gate rolled open as he approached, mindful all the while of the pots sitting behind him. 

The first veterinary office he checked had the windows broken out. It was in a small town not too far from the farmhouse. There were days he’d woken up in this town, having spent the night prior in a delirious hunt for his wife and children. It had been a long time since he had visited this town.

Closing his eyes, he took a moment to be thankful that he hadn’t woken up like that since Dee joined him. She saved him from the memories and longing. She saved him as much as he had saved her. 

There were a few people who still lived in this little town, though they hid whenever he had been there. Part of him wondered what he had done in the night, lost in a delirium looking for those who he had failed. It must have been terrible, for them to hide from him. Still, he didn't mind that none came to greet him or question him. He would rather less people crawl out of the woodwork and expect him to help them. 

Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped over the broken window. Ice and snow covered the ground, obscuring the razor shards hidden in seemingly innocent ice. Slipping and falling here would easily be fatal. Judging by the dried or frozen blood pooled by the window, it already may have been for someone. Looking over to the left, Clint saw the man.

He must have been the one to break the windows in. Dead eyes gazed back at Clint. He didn’t look away from the sight. Frost had touched the man’s fingers and face. Ice and snow gathered over his legs, giving away the fact that he had been there for a while. The dim light of the setting sun flooded in through the broken window. He could see the trail of blood. Around his arm was a bandage, not wrapped nearly tight enough to slow the flow of blood and save the man's life. 

He retraced the man’s footsteps. Heavy boots thudded on the tile floor next to the dark trail. Clint followed it through the lobby. It smeared along the reception desk in dark stains and over scattered papers. On the floor was a first aid kit. The plastic was broken, shards of artificial red on the ground. 

That was where the man had gotten the bandage he had used to try and wrap his wounds. It wasn’t enough. Rolls of bandage littered the ground. He would have needed every one of them to have anything like a chance. Judging by the trail of blood, nothing would have been good enough other than a doctor though. The fact that he had made it as far as he did was impressive. Humans were always one of the most impressive beasts.

On the wall next to the reception desk there was a display of colorful plastic cones. Clint was sure they were the ‘deluxe’ cones the receptionists would try to up-sell. When his own dogs needed a cone, he always went with the cheap clear or white ones. The cone never stayed on long enough anyway. There was no way in hell he was going to shell out $30 for something that wouldn’t be on for even half the recommended time. 

He grabbed a handful of the large ones. There was no reason not to give Trust a deluxe cone experience. In the back of his mind, he wondered if his old dogs would have been more willing to wear one if he splurged the extra money for the nice ones. It was too late to know, the dogs had all died of old age. The one that remained turned to dust along with everyone else he had loved. 

The door into the treatment area was closed. Clint tried the knob, expecting to find it locked. The knob turned under his hand without the slightest resistance. 

“This is too easy.” He mumbled to himself, looking over his shoulder at the dead body. “Watch my truck, will ya? I should have done this first....” 

The last thing he wanted was to find the truck stripped of supplies when he came back out. He took a deep breath. His boots echoed on the tile floors as he made his way through the dark halls. A few dim lights shone, allowing him to see his way. The emergency power had to have been almost gone by now. 

Under one of the large procedure tables, there was an emergency bag. The bright red gave it away. He wasted no time in reaching down, plucking it up and setting it on the table. Inside, Clint found a flashlight but little else was useful. He pocketed the travel sized packets of pain medication and alcohol wipes, leaving the rest to someone in more need. 

Dust danced in the air as the beam shed light on the space. He listened for a moment, making sure he was alone. There was nothing but silence in the clinic. It didn’t sound like there was anyone messing with the truck either. With a deep breath, he pushed himself to pick up the pace. 

He skimmed bookshelves in offices, looking for any books that could double as ‘Veterinary Medicine for Dummies’. When he didn’t find one, he left the office. It wouldn’t do to waste time looking for books. Sasha was a nurse and would have to trust herself. 

He checked cabinets, breaking open doors when he encountered locks. It was a vet’s office, not a doctors or pharmacist and so the locks reflected that. The doors and locks both were weaker. No one expected someone to hit up a veterinary office looking for pain meds. 

Looking around, Clint found a grocery bag in a trashcan. It looked clean enough. Without giving it much thought, he dumped veils of medication into it. Some were in boxes, some not. Clint assumed the boxes had the drug information inside. If not, he wasn’t going to hunt for it.

When he checked the cabinets and emptied what he thought he could use, he grabbed the bag full of medications and made his way out. On his way, he reached down and snagged the emergency bag. No point in leaving something useful behind because he didn’t have an immediate need for it. 

Through the broken glass, he could see the truck looking just like he left it. There was no one else around, from what he could see. Having his eyes on the truck full of supplies was a relief. He allowed himself to relax just a bit. 

When he stepped through the window, there was a scream. Clint, in reflex he dropped the bags and screamed for a split second. While his throat tightened and cut his voice off after a fraction of a second. He reached out to the source of the surprise and grabbed them. While he intended to pin them against the way, he hadn’t intended to do so with so much force. 

His foot had slipped on the ice, carrying them both forward. The boy’s teeth crashed together with the force as he hit the wall. Clint caught his balance before crashing into the wall himself. The boy’s chest heaved and his eyes were wise.

“Please.” The boy begged and he was a boy. Clint would guess he was no more than 15. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to take anything. I’m sorry. Please let me go.”

“Yeah you were.” Clint grumbled as he let go of the boy after giving him a quick glance over. He appeared to be unarmed, underweight and dirty.

“I was. But I won’t. I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m so hungry and there’s so much.”

“Are you alone?” 

“My gran- she’s at home.”

Clint sighed and looked at the boy again. He rolled his eyes and pulled from the box a bag of flour and a stem of tomatoes. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. After thinking for a moment, he grabbed a can of beef stew to add. “Take this. Water that stew down a bit and boil it with flour and you can stretch it farther. Good luck.” 

Clint didn’t look at the boy again as he grabbed his bags and tossed them into the truck. He refused to look at the now crying boy as he started the engine and pulled away. If the boy was lucky, he would make it to spring. More than likely, both he and his gran would be dead by then. Clint told himself he couldn’t care.

~~~~~<3

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[hortascountrysidenotes]

Third week of lockdown comes to close

Well the time actually seems to have gone quite quickly!  We have been so busy in both house and garden interspersed with some dog training on our walks that the days fly by.  We have enjoyed participating in two and organising one Pub quiz with friends courtesy of Zoom which prove fun and educational!  We also of course have enjoyed the most fabulous weather peaking today with temperatures of approx 24C.  However rain or rather the lack of it, is becoming a problem and the hoses are out.  The new grass seed has been sown so that needs a good soak every day and will no doubt germinate very quickly.  This evening I am watering with my revolving sprinkler, the veg patch as the asparagus has started but needs the boost of water with the warmer nights to push it on more quickly - first pick Monday I reckon.

Rhubarb is also about ready and the veg patch is looking very smart.  Today I picked off the very last of the purple sprouting broccoli which has been terrific this year.  Managed to get four bags into the freezer and Mr Horta amazingly enough actually dug the area over for me, turning in some of our home made compost at the same time, therefore getting ready the patch for the courgettes. I have sown three types of courgette - Defender, a straight yellow called Atene and what is termed Italian striped - I think this is a year when one cannot have too many!  

Various plants are now moving out of the greenhouse into the cold frames - the vanilla scented Nemesia, the scented Pelargoniums and the bog standard geraniums which now wait for the summer bedding schemes.  I am thrilled that my little trailing lobelias have worked brilliantly and this week I have been able to prick out 24 with another batch to do next week.  All the Cosmos I had have been potted on, but I am still waiting for the batch of new seed to come from Suttons of multi coloured ones.  Today’s post brought 10 asparagus plants to fill in some gaps which I have planted - they have to go very deep which is awkward between the established plants but I think the plan will work and I have marked them with a stick so as not to pick from them for a couple of years.

The garden looks lovely with one exception which is the roses - they have had a torrid time - lovely new foliage either zapped by those last few very sharp frosts and now frazzled to a crisp, or even completely by first the muntjac and then the roe deer.  I have put up yet more deterrants and positioned two garden chairs at the top of the garden with bin liners over them and since then no more damage, but it will take a while for the roses to shoot again - they all had flower buds too which is sickening.  These quiet days however do mean that more wildlife is about and more confident - this morning Miss Horta and I left the house at 6 - the most beautiful dawn and did a 5 mile circuit through some of our most beautiful countryside.  As we left we saw the barn owl which gives special joy as we have been without one on the common for the last two years. Another one was spotted in old Beetley in its usual haunts and it flew directly up the bridal path towards us over our heads which was glorious.  3 roedeer were grazing just below the house and we saw a total of 16 on our walk plus 3 muntjac.  Heron and buzzard both busy, masses of blackcaps singing down by the Blackwater bridge and beautiful bird cherry in flower as we neared the ford.

Wildflowers are starting to increase daily - kingcups, stitchwort, two deadnettles, the first ladysmock, ground ivy, lovely cowslips, celandines and of course the first bluebells.  Great excitement too on the yellow rattle front.  Last year the 300 m long strip I had sown the previous autumn where PUSH had cleared out a ditch and conveniently left bare earth on the bank top produced a good crop of rattle much to my amazement as it is notoriously difficult to establish.  I collected a lot of seed in an envelope and in October, just before the cattle finished grazing the common I spread it surreptitiously, rather like the soil down the trousers in the The Great Escape, on a sparsely grassy area just outside out back gate covered in mole hills - also in the knowledge that the cattle would walk over it, jam it in and then we would wait and hope.  BINGO there is a really good patch!  I use the word surreptitious as with rattle being a parasite it weakens the grass which of course is not really what some of the graziers want.  However the more diverse mix of wildflowers due to lack of competition from grass, does make for a good herbage for cattle with all sorts of vitamins and properties that grass does not give.

Butterflies also on the march - Tortoiseshell, Peacocks, Brimstone, Comma and today the first Orange Tip.  Mr Horta has put the moth trap out twice and recorded the first moths of spring - apparently the Norfolk group who he communes with on moths have already seen Poplar Hawk and  Elephant Hawk. He just had some lovely little chaps - they have such wonderful names - Hebrew Character, Nut Tree Tussock to name but two!

We continue with dog training - the girls do enjoy it and little by little my neighbour is getting involved with his 10 month old golden retriever Cally.  He is finding it very useful to sit Cally up, to watch the girls, so she gets less excited seeing other dogs.  Next week we will start walking her through our dogs as in a bending race, on the lead, but with a view to then getting the heel work better so she can do it off the lead.  We can keep our social distance, and obviously make sure no one else is about!

To finish on a great note - Mrs Swallow arrived on Thursday so all is really well - swallows, barn owl, yellow rattle, its all looking pretty much ok in our quiet little world. We are very very lucky and we give thanks daily for life at Beck Farm.

HORTA

[goingknowherewastaken]

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Four

♦ Title: Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again

♦ Fandom: Star Trek with a small dash of Pete’s Dragon

♦ Relationship: McKirk || Jim x Bones

♦ Warnings: vulgarities, gossip, mentions of infidelity, mentions of harassing behavior

♦ A/N: I’m not dead!!!! Just went on an unexpected hiatus :p

But boy am I happy to be writing again. Although I was not expecting this to be the thing that I would end up posting/updating. A Million Years or even a reader insert one shot, but not then...yet here we are!!!

Any who….if you haven’t read the previous parts, you can find those linked here!!

Enjoy!! ♥ :)

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Four

“Bye, Pav!” Jim waved at the kid as he exited Yorktown, dodging around a few guys and ignoring the looks he got.

It was a little busier since it was the lunch rush, but Pavel still returned the waved from where he was working the register. “Bye, Jim! And Congrats!” He shouted before darting over to help the new arrivals who, judging by the bits of sawdust on their clothes, were probably on break from logging. “Leo, Scotty, hi -”

Jim laughed and made his way to his car, an excited grin on his face as he pulled away from the curb.

Two days ago, Jim had applied to temporarily rent the ‘penthouse’ apartment before making an offer on the log mansion that was just over the listing price. He had wanted to low-ball an offer, but Barnett quickly axed that plan. The move-in ready place had been on the market for only a month, but, so far, all of it's offers had been below the listing price.

And, apparently, the owner was having none of that shit. The dude had turned down each and every 'insulting' offer for his masterpiece.

Since Jim was the first potential buyer to be able to offer more than the listing price, the realtor thought it was best to go over to maximize his chance at getting the home.

Last night, he got a call back from Barnett.

He wouldn't have to keep living out of the 'Beige Motel'.

Sure, he'd still have several weeks before he would be able to start moving in, but that wasn’t an issue. After a lengthy phone call, Jim managed to convince the owner of the apartment building to allow him to rent to the apartment

Grinning gleefully, Jim tapped his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat of the fading song.

Who would have thought that this blink-and-you-miss-it town in the middle of nowhere would be the new home of James Tiberius Kirk?

Heeding the stop sign before him, Jim took the opportunity to grab his sunglasses and slip them on before switching the station. Weather forecasts were just so boring, but classic rock? Driving on, he slipped easily into singing along to Cherry Bomb as he searched for his turnoff.

Between conversations with Nyota, Spock, and Pavel, it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that he was going to need far more than what he packed in his bags for his new home...homes?

Not - not that he needed their input.

But they did give him ideas on various necessities.

One such necessity? Plants.

He had adored his little garden back in LA. Carefully probing the dirt as he gently placed each plant and seed. Meticulously watering each growth and pulling unwanted weeds as they sprouted. Scenting the soft fragrance of the various blossoms as they bloomed. Tasting each new vegetable as they ripened

If he was going live here, he needed something to brighten up the inside of his new homes.

Something to care for.

After a few more minutes, Jim found himself pulling into a small gravel lot and picking a spot near the front doors. Throwing the car into park, Jim leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look at the flower shop.

Demora's Nursery was located on the outskirts of Millhaven. The main building was a low, wood paneled structure with windows filled with various types of ferns. Behind it, three greenhouses stood attached, their opaque walls giving no clues as to what grew inside.

A small set of wind-chimes jingled as he entered the colorful shop, drawing the attention of a young Asian man working behind the counter. “Hello,” he greeted, a welcoming smile spread across his face. As he watched Jim make his way back, being careful not to knock over any of the potted plants, he questioned, “Can I help you find anything?”

“Hi! Uh, yeah, I think.” Jim scratched at the back of his head as the man gave him a questioning look. “I just bought a house in the area and I'm looking for some things to add a little life to it.”

He nodded and slid a pad of paper towards him. Grabbing a pen he said, “That I can help you with. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

Jim shrugged. “Eh, not really?” He never actually thought about what he wanted. “Sorry.”

He got a one-shouldered shrug in return. “Don't worry about it. Most people come in with the mindset of 'I'll know it when I see it'. Here,” he slid off his stool and came around the counter. “I'll show you around. You might have questions about some of the plants. Oh,” he stuck out his hand. “I'm Ben, by the way.”

Well, Ben turned out to be a savior sent to Earth. Not only did he know about every single plant he and his husband sold, he was also extremely helpful with giving Jim tips about an outdoor garden come the spring.

“We usually get the garden magazines around December. So you can either stop by then or an issue can be sent to you,” he informed, leading Jim into the second greenhouse. The nursery turned out to be divided by plant types – the main building that we are currently in, ferns and indoor trees; the first greenhouse, vegetables; and the final two, flowers.

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind.”Jim tried to shove his sleeves up higher as the humid air assaulted his body. “I didn't know that nurseries stayed open during the winter.”

Ben shrugged, picking off a few dead leaves from some pots of roses. “Most don't. We're just one that likes to keep something in stock year round. Some things we get shipped in and some we work on growing, but we tailor the stock to the season. The spring and early summer is when we have the most outdoor plants; in the late summer, we transition to ones that do well indoors.”

Jim picked up a small pot of wildflowers. “That's nice.” He gave the flowers a sniff, a memory coming to him. “Hey, do you have any of those – shit, what are they called? They're the little white, bell-like flowers? I remember by grandparents in Iowa had some that grew wild. My gramps would always send us out to pick some for my grandma when we visited.” He smiled softly. “I always liked the smell of them.”

Ben's eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Do you mean the lily of the valley?”

Jim shifted the pot over to one hand and snapped his fingers. “Yes! Those! Do you have any of those?”

The other man chewed his lip. “Hmmmm, I don't know if we have any of those left. We definitely did, though. They grow like crazy during May and the loggers dig up a bunch for us.” He turned and headed for the doorway. “See, they grow really well in pots and we worked on growing them already in pots. I think my husband might know, though.” He stepped out and yelled into the narrow corridor, “Hey, Hikaru!”

“Yeah?” A voice responded from the third greenhouse.

“Do we have anymore pots of lily of the valley?”

“Yeah!” The man sounded closer and Jim rocked on his feet listening to the two talk. “They're in green house three toward th - ” The voice abruptly cut off and Jim looked up to see the other man, Hikaru, staring at him in shock. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

The blond felt himself go pale while panic flooded his veins. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

A confused Ben glanced between the two, but Hikaru kept his focus on Jim.

“You're Jim Kirk.”

With that, his husband looked aghast and Jim cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I – uh – I am.”

Hikaru ginned and strode forward, eager to shake his hand. “Oh, thank god! For a second I thought I had the wrong guy,” he babbled. “And, I don't know if you remember, but we actually met a few years ago.”

“Ah, thank you.” Still stunned, Jim squinted at the man. Now that he mentioned it, he did look familiar. It took a few seconds for the light-bulb to click. “That flight to New York -”

“- with the worst turbulence of your fucking life,” the Hikaru finished with a grin. “Yup! God, that was some scary shit.”

Jim shivered at the memory. “It fucking was!” His blue eyes widened at a realization. “Shit, you were the pilot! I bet that was even worse!”

“Yeah.” He put his hands on his hips as Ben stepped forward. “I thought we were gonna di -”

“- Excuse me?”

Jim and Hikaru found their heads twisting to the side at Ben’s interruption. The man in question was staring between the two with a look of befuddlement. Jim, at least, felt sheepish over excluding him; Hikaru, on the other hand, didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter.

“Do you remember that flight I told you about?! The one I was assigned to when the original pilot got struck down with food poisoning?!”

Jim noticed the moment that the memory popped into Ben’s head. “The flight with the actors from Guardians of the Galaxy,” he said with his realization, his head turning to look at Jim.

Twin “Yups” were what he got as a confirmation; only Jim’s was more on the bashful side as Hikaru took the gleeful tone.

“Wow…,” seemed to be the only thing Ben could say.

A few moments of silence settled over the three before a bemused chuckle escaped Jim. “Jesus,” he said, “I’ve been here for nearly a week, walking about town -” he let out another chuckle “- buying property, and you’re the first to recognize me by just seeing me.”

Ben smirked and sent a look at Hikaru. “Well, they don’t religiously watch Haven like this nerd.”

Hikaru pouted. “Hey, don’t knock Haven - Wait, you bought property here?”

“Ah, you caught that,” Jim said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’d been thinking about getting a place away from the city for a while now and with…” He trailed off, the distasteful discretion raging back into his mind like an untamed bull. Suddenly, he was on the receiving end of two pity filled faces.

“Shit, yeah, we saw that on the news. That’s - oof!” Hikaru cut himself off and sent a glare at his husband for elbowing him in the ribs. Jim watched on with a pained heart as several seconds of silent communication passed between them before realization dawned across Hikaru’s face and he turned back to Jim full of remorse. “Shit! I am so sorry for bringing that up.”

“No, it’s - it’s fine.” He hated to admit it, but Jim had to swallow back a pit of despair, embarrassed that he allowed himself to become overwhelmed by them in public. Plastering on a smile, Jim did his best to ease their unease. “I slipped up with it and - and you were just trying to sympathize and -”

“Jim.”

He stopped talking, word vomit lodged in his throat at the appearance of hands settling on his shoulders, comforting and steady. He looked between the double pairs of brown, empathizing eyes and felt a delayed and all-encompassing tidal wave of relief wash through him, pricking at his own blue eyes.

Throughout his entire life, Jim had always needed to share - whether he wanted to or not. It went beyond sharing his food or his toys. No, he was expected to share his entire life. What’s his workout like? What gets his motor running? How hairy is his butt? What does he do every single moment of his day?

Majority of the time Jim had wanted to tell them to fuck off and mind their own business because did he seriously owe these strangers his entire personal life?

Yet, these two men, these two strangers, are asking nothing of him.

Perhaps the most vulnerable moment of his life and instead of joining the press and pestering him about the dirty details of the affair they’re standing as pillars of strength on either side of him.

Drawing in a ragged breath, a hurricane of emotion roaring in Jim’s chest as a lone tear sat glistening upon his cheek, lost in a sea of green and colors.

☼

Damn near tripping over his feet, Len’s head swiveled around in an attempt to keep the blond in his sight for as long as possible.

“Len.”

His gaze dropping past the fur collared bomber jacket to settle on a dark wash, jean clad butt seconds before it vanished from his view.

“Len!”

Len turned, brow raising at Scotty’s amused, knowing look. Unspoken of by all in the know, only Scotty truly knew Len’s interest knew no bounds.

Unknownst by the Scotsman, the perky young Pavel interrupted them before Len could level any sort of retort. “Leo, Scotty, hi! How was your morning?” He said the question while laying down their menus.

“Well enough, Lad. Say,” Scotty grew sly, flipping open his menu and shooting Len a wink. “Who was that that just left? Never seen ‘im around before.”

“Oh, that was Jim! The usual for drinks right?” Pavel chirped back without missing a beat. Len peered up, his curiosity piqued. In the corner of his eye, Scotty matched his nod of confirmation. When he darted off to go fetch their drinks, Len narrowed his eyes at his business partner.

He was only met with a smug grin.

“Here we go,” Pavel said, placing a tall glass of Coke before Len and one of Dr. Pepper before Scotty. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to think over your order -”

“No need.” Len waved a hand, cutting him off. “We already have an idea of what we want.” After sharing their orders, the young waiter left them for a few minutes to drop the ticket off in the kitchen. The two ended up conversing over their work at the cut before Pavel returned to their tableside, meals balanced on a large, black tray.

“Da, Jim is new to the area,” Pavel said, placing their food on the table before pulling a chair up to the side of the table.

Len blinked. Well he just cuts right to the chase. “You know him?” He ignored the glance Scotty gave him; Yes, he was curious, but not because he was interested in the guy. At least, that’s what Len was telling himself.

Pavel merely shrugged, the white button up he had to wear for his shift wrinkling more with the action. “He came in for breakfast a few days ago and has come in to eat nearly everyday. Said he wanted a break from the city - actually this morning he said he was approved to buy a house in the area.”

Scotty let out a whistle. “Already bought a house? What’s he hiding from to just get to a place and buy a house?” Len snorted at the comment, but Scotty continued on before he could say anything. “Speaking of - Have ya heard the latest shit about Kirk?”

Rolling his eyes, Len took a big bite of his burger, savoring the taste of the cheese and bacon that coated his tongue. Ever since the news of the overrated actor freaking out and disappearing over his ex dating a new guy surfaced, Len has had to hear all about it from Scotty.

And he really doesn’t care.

Unfortunately for Len, Pavel “I-Want-To-Be-An-Actor-Someday” Chekov does.

“Da!” Pavel said, voice coming out in an over-interested gasp.

So much for Len’s relaxing lunch. He settled into eating as the two began their mind-numbing discussion about the whole Hollywood debacle, fragments of their commentary occasionally cutting through his thoughts on the flavors dancing upon his tongue.

“Why suddenly contact them and act like a dick after days of silence?”

God, what type of bacon is that? Brown sugar? Maple? Ah, who cares! It’s blessed by God anyways.

“Would you act that way over an ex, though?”

Hot damn, they don’t go lightly on the brownie chunks in the shake!

“It does beg the question: What falls faster? Stars or trees.”

“Like, why would - oh!”

The sudden break off of words pulled Len from his food and had he and Scotty exchanging a glance before looking at Pavel…who appeared to be in the middle of a transcending thought.

“You okay, Pav?”

“Uh - Da! Da, I just remembered that I - I have a errand to run after my shift, da.” With that, the kid left, leaving Len and Scotty to exchange curious looks in his wake. Even when he returned with their checks, Pavel kept his words short and work related; the unusual behavior causing Len to question what more was going on.

...to be continued 

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[exi-dentally]

Secret Admirer - Park Jinwoo x Reader

Title: Secret Admirer Author: Haru. Pairing: Park Jinwoo x Reader Prompt: “I can’t tell them I’m writing the love notes! They’ll kill me!”

"'And, with everything that happens in this dark, confusing world,'" The girl had her nose deep into her novel, sitting under a cherry blossom tree with her backpack filled with her homework which was due tomorrow and a portable mug full of green, mint tea. "'I will do anything to protect you and make sure you're safe, happy and well, for you are my entire galaxy.'" Placing her bookmark in the page she was finished reading, the girl closed her book and hugged it near her chest with a sigh. Oh, how great it would be to get something like that. The world would probably have to be in peril for something as realistic as that, to happen to a simple, bookworm like her. Tipping her black rimmed hipster glasses further on her nose, the young hopeless teenager carefully - so that nothing happened to her baby, her book - laid her book in her backpack and stood up, swinging the bag onto her shoulders. "Why don't boys behave like the ones in the novels?" She questioned out loud, trudging her way home, mentally cursing her teacher for assigning multiple pages of homework. You know, professor, there are more to students' lives than just homework! Some people actually have lives! Shocking, right? Pulling out her phone, she unlocked it by pressing her thumb on the home button of her phone and tapped on the messaging app, opening her conversation with her best friend.

(Y/N): Jinjin, I'm almost finished the novel you wanted me to read!!! It's pretty good.

The girl smiled to herself as she looked up from her screen, gazing up at the beautiful sky, trying to make shapes out of the clouds as she waited for Jinjin to reply to her text. "Butterfly," She whispered to herself, the clouds coming together to form a butterfly. You know, if you spot a butterfly, that means your soulmate is sending you love. But who would believe in those types of things these days? Her phone vibrated in her palm, making her instantly check it.

Jinwoo: I gave it to you, like, five days ago and you're almost finished it? Geeze! 

The girl laughed and his response and started to type out her reply.

(Y/N): I like reading, okay? Besides I couldn't put it down after the first few chapters. I am seriously in love with Theta. Jinwoo: Aren't we all?

"Why does school hate me so much?" The girl groaned as she took notes down about Chemistry in her notebook. She used a variety of colors and post-it notes; each color held a different importance, red was for new vocabulary, blue for hints for upcoming tests and the end of the year exam and purple for extra notes. "I think school hates everyone, jagi." "Says the one who the teacher actually likes - teacher's pet." "The one time I wanted to get a good grade on that ONE test I didn't understand," The girl sitting in the desk beside him snickered, reminiscing of the memory Jinwoo tried so hard to burn (although, with his best friend doing that and reminding him, there was no way he could forget). "And my mom decided that baking cookies and asking for extra help after school were the greatest ways to bump up my grades." "Still quite funny that you did that--" "Shut up," The dirty blond boy huffed and chucked a spare pencil from his pencil case at her, making her laugh a little harder. Sometimes, he questioned why the hell he decided to stick with her for that long... The little bugger. "Pay attention to the board." "Oh, I will, don't worry." The girl replied and took out her packet of sticky notes, writing down the formula for finding how many electrons were present in every subshell in the Quantum Atomic Model - the most (confusing) and current model that chemists have designed and theorize how the atom of each element - including isotopes - looks like. Though, since when did science ever make sense? Even the teacher, who, hell, probably has a degree in Chemistry - the science he's educating them on - said that no one truly knows how an atom looks like, thus meaning everything about this stupid quantum model or any other models chemists or scientists in general have ever made. Jinwoo, once finished copying his notes - in his chicken scratch writing because he needed to leave before the bell rang - raised up his hand and quickly and deviously stuffed something in his jeans pocket. "Mr. Teacher-nim," the dirty blond called on his teacher, making him pause from the note-taking. "May I be excused early?" "Is there any reason why you want to leave," The teacher turned around to face the analog clock that was at the back of the classroom, reading the time. "About fifteen minutes before the bell?" "Yes, actually," He stood up, smirking at the girl beside him as she shot him a look. If only looks could kill Park Jinwoo would be on the floor having a heart attack. The male student then made his way over to the front of the class, still with his stupidly (attractive) smug look on his face, taking out a note from his binder. "My mom wrote this, you can actually call her to verify if you'd like." He then flashed an innocent smile at the teacher before bowing and walking out of class. Time to put his plan into action! Mission 001: Love Note In Locker. "That smug, stupid, little--" The teacher coughed as the whole class looked over at the girl, who was fuming with anger at her alleged best friend ditching the most boring class she had on her schedule. Biting her lip she bowed her head as an apology to the teacher and her classmates for disrupting and once again started to take notes. "If you're going to ditch class with a note from your mom, at least ask her to add me onto that note as well, Park Jinwoo!!”

Lunchtime. Thank the bloody Lords. Walking over to her locker, the female carefully placed her books near her feet and held her metallic lock in her hands, taking ahold of the dial to punch in her code. "Hey," Jinwoo appeared at her left side, leaning back against the lockers. "Are we sitting at the usual place near the music room with the gang?" "Well, obviously," The girl replied, pulling her lock down to unlock it. "Where else would we go?" "Outside like normal students our age to get some vitamin D." "I don't want to go outside because, one," The girl hooked the hook of her lock onto the inside of the handle of the locker, pausing from opening her locker to look over at Jinwoo. "It's raining--" "A little rain can't hurt you--" "And two, if we go outside, I swear to you that there are going to be people flocking us because of Eunwoo." The boy rolled his eyes at (Y/N)'s attempt to lie and make excuses. "You're lucky you're my best friend." "Unfortunately." She teased with a grin as she opened her locker. A small, folded piece of paper fluttered out of her locker and the girl watched as it gracefully fell onto her books. "Looks like someone's got a note." "Shut up." The girl glared at the older male before bending down and picking up the note, slowly unfolding it. "'You're the cutest nerd I know.'" "Why are reading over my shoulder?" "Because I want to know who's trying to win over my best friend." "What makes you think this note is legit?" The girl re-folded the note and placed it in one of the compartments in her bag, zipping it up. "It could literally be that some random dude mistook my locker for someone else's." "There's a chance it could be real," Jinwoo said with a shrug, helping the girl put her textbooks, binder and pencil case in her locker, placing it just the way the girl liked it - the binders had to be placed in pattern (the first one had its spine facing her, the other one had the spine facing the back of the locker), her textbook spines facing her and the notebooks she kept for each color had been put according to color (biology and mathematics were both purple notebooks, thus they were together, along with the blue notebooks which were English and French, then the red notebooks were for the chemistry courses she was taking. "Shouldn't you have a little hope in the field of romance." "I do," The girl replied, going onto her tippy toes to reach the top of her locker to grab her lunch kit. "I'm a hopeless romantic, just like you, but," She then lowered herself to the ground and looked over at her best friend, pouting. "The boys here aren't that interested in me." "Says the one who got the love letter." "Then again, you and the rest of the group always has fans running up to them--" "Let's not talk about that during lunch time. Lunch is sacred time to eat and socialize with friends."

In the school, since they were high schoolers - juniors, to be exact - they were able to eat wherever the hell they wanted to, which thank the lord because the gym cafeteria was complete garbage and there were way too many people around. The seven of them - Sanha, MJ, Jinjin, Rocky, Eunwoo, (Y/N) and Moonbin - sat on the roof of the building where the staff had the greenhouse for the various flora and plants to show off that they were a 'green thumbed' and 'eco friendly' school. The group sat at a plastic wood looking picnic table - Sanha, (Y/N), Jinjin sat in front of MJ, Eunwoo, Moonbin while Rocky was too cool for the uncomfortable, tiny spot left for him on the picnic table bench and sat on top of the table. "What'cha got for lunch?" Asked the youngest of the group, Sanha, as he peeked over the girl's shoulder to peer into her lunch bag. The girl huffed and pulled her lunch bag near her chest, half glaring at Sanha. "Nothing of your concern." "But you share with Jinjin-hyung all the time!" "It's because he at least shares his food with me as well!" "Kids!" MJ, the eldest but the shortest out of the bunch stood up and bent over the table from his seat, holding out his arms to block Sanha from (Y/N) fighting. "There's no fighting at the table." "We're not fighting," The girl replied, mumbling her words and watching as Sanha backed off since Binnie glared at Sanha as well. "We're simply bantering, there is a difference." "It's a synonym for fighting," Eunwoo corrected, holding up his index finger in the air and smiled. "So it counts." The two 'kids' huffed and opened their lunches simultaneously and stuffed the sandwich, which was in their lunch bags packed by their lovely mothers, making the rest of the group laugh. "So," Jinjin started to spike up a conversation, smirking over to his best friend, nudging her left arm as she held the sandwich with her right had and munched on it. "Someone got a love letter in her locker today." "What?!" All the boys gasped in unison, looking over at her or leaning over the table, getting into her space bubble. "You got a love note?!" "Finally!" Rocky grinned and turned around, facing his friend, eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Someone had the balls to ask you out! I told you, a lot of people actually like you, they just don't have the guts!" "I wonder who it is!" Binnie added, grinning from ear to ear at his friend, chuckling at her blushing face. "I really hope this boy that likes you is a nice one! A gentleman for our (Y/N)!" "It's probably fake," The girl interjected with a cough as she finished off the rest of her sandwich and zipping up her lunch bag. With her friend's weird antics, she slowly lost her appetite. Hyping her up on something like this - a love letter that had a 90% chance that it could have been a prank - was stupid. She didn't want to believe in something that might not ever happen. "Besides, the locker beside mine is Pinky's, maybe it was for her." "Nonsense!" Jinjin immediately replied, making the boys glare at him for almost spilling the identity of the note writer. "I think it was meant for you! I mean, Pinky isn't that much of a nerd as you are..." "Still," The girl got up and exited the table, going downstairs to her locker. Meanwhile with the rest of the boys, they were all yelling and bickering with Jinjin. "If you're going to mess up MJ's plan like that," Rocky huffed and smacked Jinjin's chest. "You should just confess." "I can't just tell her that I'm the one that wrote that letter! She'll kill me!" "Well then next time, don't be stupid!" "Sanha!"

A/N: That took days to finish! Sorry for the long wait! I have been trying to feel better the past few days! So @sanhalation (Riley) here’s the fic you’ve been waiting for hehe! I love you Riles, hope you love it!

-H.

[kathrynevansink]

By Kathryn Evans

If you don’t know me very well, you may not know that as well as being a writer, I also run a soft fruit farm with my husband. Last year, the world of words and the world of fruit collided in the most serendipitous way.

I was asked to do  an event with author, Jo Cotterill at the  Edinburgh International Book Festival. We put on a pretty good show – and had a ball – so when she asked me if she could come down to the  farm to research her new book, A Storm of Strawberries, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Kathryn Evans and Jo Cotterill sign piles of books!

  I told Jo all about the realities of farming ( she captures the distracting stress of the parents in her book brilliantly) and we had a tour around so she could see what a hi-tech business soft fruit growing is now – although still very much at the mercy of the weather- storms are very frightening and quite often, very expensive – here’s a post I wrote after a real life storm on our farm.

Narrow escape for the greenhouse

Chalk Lane, 3rd Jan 2012

But you will have to share your desk space.

We were just having another cup of tea when something horribly sad happened.  My husband came in to tell me he’d found  my adored young cat, Pike,  dead in our driveway.

I raced to my cat and as I picked up his little body, trying to puzzle out what had happened,  I felt a hard  pellet under his skin. Somebody had shot my beautiful Pike with a air rifle. I was heartbroken. Pike wasn’t very clever but he was incredibly friendly. He was so loving, in fact, that it was hard to get any work done because of his demands for cuddles. Here’s a video I made, after he’d died:

  I brought Pike home, wrapped him up and tried to finish giving Jo all the information she needed for her book – she’d travelled a long way and I didn’t want her to have wasted her time. When she left, I took Pike to the vet so they could confirm what I suspected. Yes, indeed, someone had deliberately taken his life. I reported it to the police – it is a crime – and they took it very seriously. I wrote an open letter to the killer that was shared far and  wide and even made the radio and the press  but we never found out who  had done such a horrible thing.

We buried Pike in our garden and one of my lovely friends  sent me a cherry tree to mark the spot where he is. I still miss him, it’s rare to have such an adoring little creature land in your life, but I’m grateful I had a little while with him.

Then Jo’s book came out, A Storm of Strawberries,  and right on the cover, is the silhouette of a little cat, my little cat.

Not only that, at the end of the story – which, by the way, is a story so full of love and heart  it near made mine burst – Pike gets a mention.

My funny little boy cat has been immortalized in a wonderful story.

What a gift.

Thank you so much Jo – I’m so happy our worlds collided xxx

  A Storm of Strawberries By Kathryn Evans If you don't know me very well, you may not know that as well as being a writer, I also run a…

[runawaywidow]

For the past several summers I have put my United States passport to good use and traveled around the world.  I’ve shared photos and posts about some exciting places but my most popular post is about a small town in upstate New York, 17 things to do in Ithaca.

Like many, I am hesitant about traveling this summer. We are now entering phase 3 post pandemic, so some places are opening up here in New York but I will not be going too far away. In fact, with an abundance of outdoor opportunities on Long Island, I will share my summer bucket list with my fellow islanders.

While the state parks do charge an entrance fee of $10, the Empire Pass can be purchased for the year for $80 and with this summer of limited travel, it is well worth the investment.

1.  Robert Moses, Field 5

Yesterday I drove myself over the bridge to Robert Moses ocean beach on Fire Island.  Clean, soft sand, refreshing salt water with moderate waves, qualified life guards and open bathrooms make this beach a true pleasure. If your ideal day is to sit in a chair under an umbrella and read or to take a long walk along the shore, visit the lighthouse and maybe stroll into the small beach village of Kismet, this can all be done in a day trip. Walking east along the shore I will warn you that some bathers prefer not to wear swim suits.   Just remember to wear your mask in the bathrooms at the beach.

Parking $10 or Empire pass. https://parks.ny.gov/parks/7/

2.  Montauk

The eastern most point of Long Island has this amazingly, still quaint fishing village. The cost of hotel rooms has sky rocketed in recent years but since you save money on air fare and time and the hassle of driving through New York City, it can be worth the splurge.  More ocean beaches, fishing trips, fresh seafood, hiking trails, cliffs, surfers and a light house to climb are just some reasons people keep coming out year after year to visit. My friend has made 2 visits already this summer with her kids to watch the sunrise at what is called THE END – and breakfast spots are open for the early birds too.

Hotel rooms are available but the average price per night is around $500 with a 3 night minimum on weekends. Day trip or a little getaway;  I’ll be planning my trip out east soon.

Montauk – Budget Friendly Vacation  

Montauk Point lighthouse

3.  Sunken Meadow State Park

What I love about this park is the 2 mile boardwalk along the beach for walking and riding bikes.  This park has hiking trails through the woods, and a public golf course with a driving range.  You must reserve a tee time in advance.  In addition, I like to visit this location as it is where we got married on the beach last June and had a fun celebration with family and friends.  We’ve been back a few times this spring and always enjoy some time outside.

Parking $10 or Empire pass: https://parks.ny.gov/parks/37/

4. Caumsett State Historic Park Preserve

This scenic park is located on the North Shore in Lloyd Harbor.  The old estate and buildings are still standing on the hill above the Long Island Sound and active horse stables give the feel of being a guest at a country estate.  The three mile paved and shaded trail is available to pedestrians and bicycles only.  No dogs allowed.

Parking $10 or Empire pass: https://parks.ny.gov/parks/23/details.aspx

5. Cold Spring Harbor hiking trail

This one is Free.  Simply park by the library on Harbor Road in Cold Spring Harbor and you will see the sign to the entrance.  This is the north end of the 19 mile Nassau-Suffolk trail and does have some hills to climb.  People often bring dogs along on a leash.   I would highly recommend spraying for ticks before you head out on this trail or any trails on Long Island and be sure to check carefully when you return home as well.

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7029784/cold-spring-harbor-state-park-out-and-back

6.  Huntington Village

The restaurants in town are most creative as they set up outdoor dining tables on side walks and alleys.  Musicians on the street, music coming from the restaurants and people walking around make us forget that we have been sheltering in place for 3 months.  The waitstaff is required to wear masks and you have the option to wear a mask as well.  Walking around the town, getting an ice cream and seeing people again can make us all remember we are part of a bigger community.  And when you go out to eat, you can feel good about supporting the local economy too!

7. Planting Fields, Oyster Bay

If you prefer gardens, this former Gold Coast estate features 409 acres of gardens.  The Coe house and greenhouses are currently closed but the grounds are open for walking and enjoying the outdoor gardens and architecture from the early 1900’s.

https://plantingfields.org/plan-your-visit/

8.  Bayard Cutting Arboretum

Located on the south shore in Great River, the grounds are open everyday except on Mondays.  The trail along the river is lined with a variety of trees and plants in an informal setting.  The house is closed currently but this is a beautiful park to visit and learn more about the types of plants in this area.

https://bayardcuttingarboretum.com/

9.  Long Island Aquarium

A favorite place to visit with families is the aquarium in Riverhead.  The sea otters, penguins and sea lion exhibits are outdoors.  Sting rays and sharks are indoors and masks are required.  Due to reduced guest capacity, reservations must be made in advance.

https://www.longislandaquarium.com/purchase-tickets/pricing/

10. Fire Island by Ferry

I grew up on the south shore in Sayville, known as the “friendliest town in America”.  This is really a great little town with restaurants and small shops along a quaint Main Street that often closes for town events like car shows and summer festivals.  Following Foster Avenue south towards the Great South Bay and turning left at the end, you will see the docks for the ferries.  Two of my first jobs were cleaning houses at Fire Island Pines and making pizzas at Cherry Grove. Both awesome little beach communities that do not allow cars, homes are connected only by boardwalks and the vibes from the New York City gay community are alive and vibrant.

The ferry to Sailors Haven and Sunken Forest also leaves from the same dock area and while homes are not available to rent and only a concession stand is available for dining, this natural setting makes for a great day trip for families.

Ferries cost $16-18 round trip and you can pay to bring your dog as well.  Ferries leave approximately every 2 hours.

http://www.sayvilleferry.com/schedule-pines.php

10. ROBERT MOSES, Field 2

The western most end of Fire Island National seashore has a 3 par 9 hole golf course right there at the beach.  No reservations necessary as it is first come, first served. Perfect for beginners and beach lovers.  Pack a lunch or dinner, play golf and take a long walk around the point or hop in for a swim in the sea.

$10 parking fee or  Empire Pass.

11.  Jones Beach, Field 6

Although the concerts have been cancelled this summer, the iconic boardwalk at Jones Beach is still a treasure.  I prefer field 6 on the eastern most part of the park as it is the shortest walk to the water and right on the boardwalk.  Also a great place to walk with a stroller.  The playground may be opening soon and a there is a small 9 hole pitch and putt golf course along the boardwalk as well.  My grandmother and mom used to tell stories of going to the pool located in the building during the summer and the many evenings they spent dancing to music outside at the bandshell.

$10 parking fee or Empire Pass

https://parks.ny.gov/parks/jonesbeach/

12.  Kayak River Rentals

I have heard wonderful tales of kayaking the Nissequogue River starting in Smithtown near the bull (It’s a famous statue here on Long Island).  So you make a reservation and meet the group – sign some papers and board the kayak.  Double kayaks and canoes cost about $60 for the approximately 3 hour tour down the river toward the Long Island sound. Nature, birds, and water are the best, just prepare for the sun, bugs and hydration on your adventure.  A bus even brings you back to your car. This summer I will definitely try this.

http://www.canoerentals.com/

13. Motor Boat Rentals

Living near the beach, I have always had either a sailboat or a motor boat… except for this summer.  While I am happy to save on the expense of maintenance and repairs, I will miss going out in a boat.

Having friends with boats is always a good alternative.  But if your friends don’t have a boat, it is possible to rent boats for a day or even half a day.  I did this last winter in Florida with my sister and her family and we had a blast. So as a consolation to staying home this summer without a boat, I have been looking into day rentals and am considering two. For a boat that could accommodate 8 people, for the day it is about $1000.

In Freeport, the rental shop offers hourly rentals starting at 2 hours for about $300.

https://summerboatrental.com/

In Port Washington, Long Island Boat Rentals offers deals for small boats as well as captained boats for the day.

https://liboatrentals.com/

I am looking forward to trying out one or both of these places this summer.  Who’s in?

I am grateful to live in such a beautiful place and to have the summer off.  I can not imagine what the fall will bring for me as a teacher but I know that I have today to get out and enjoy.  Keep safe, wear a mask if you will be near people and have a great summer!

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        14 Awesome Things to do this Summer on Long Island For the past several summers I have put my United States passport to good use and traveled around the world. 

[readbookywooks]

When The Sun Went Down

When his head was out of sight Colin turned to Mary.

"Go and meet him," he said; and Mary flew across the grass to the door under the ivy.

Dickon was watching him with sharp eyes. There were scarlet spots on his cheeks and he looked amazing, but he showed no signs of falling.

"I can stand," he said, and his head was still held up and he said it quite grandly.

"I told thee tha' could as soon as tha' stopped bein' afraid," answered Dickon. "An' tha's stopped."

"Yes, I've stopped," said Colin.

Then suddenly he remembered something Mary had said.

"Are you making Magic?" he asked sharply.

Dickon's curly mouth spread in a cheerful grin.

"Tha's doin' Magic thysel'," he said. "It's same Magic as made these 'ere work out o' th' earth," and he touched with his thick boot a clump of crocuses in the grass. Colin looked down at them.

"Aye," he said slowly, "there couldna' be bigger Magic than that there--there couldna' be."

He drew himself up straighter than ever.

"I'm going to walk to that tree," he said, pointing to one a few feet away from him. "I'm going to be standing when Weatherstaff comes here. I can rest against the tree if I like. When I want to sit down I will sit down, but not before. Bring a rug from the chair."

He walked to the tree and though Dickon held his arm he was wonderfully steady. When he stood against the tree trunk it was not too plain that he supported himself against it, and he still held himself so straight that he looked tall.

When Ben Weatherstaff came through the door in the wall he saw him standing there and he heard Mary muttering something under her breath.

"What art sayin'?" he asked rather testily because he did not want his attention distracted from the long thin straight boy figure and proud face.

But she did not tell him. What she was saying was this:

"You can do it! You can do it! I told you you could! You can do it! You can do it! You can!" She was saying it to Colin because she wanted to make Magic and keep him on his feet looking like that. She could not bear that he should give in before Ben Weatherstaff. He did not give in. She was uplifted by a sudden feeling that he looked quite beautiful in spite of his thinness. He fixed his eyes on Ben Weatherstaff in his funny imperious way.

"Look at me!" he commanded. "Look at me all over! Am I a hunchback? Have I got crooked legs?"

Ben Weatherstaff had not quite got over his emotion, but he had recovered a little and answered almost in his usual way.

"Not tha'," he said. "Nowt o' th' sort. What's tha' been doin' with thysel'--hidin' out o' sight an' lettin' folk think tha' was cripple an' half-witted?"

"Half-witted!" said Colin angrily. "Who thought that?"

"Lots o' fools," said Ben. "Th' world's full o' jackasses brayin' an' they never bray nowt but lies. What did tha' shut thysel' up for?"

"Everyone thought I was going to die," said Colin shortly. "I'm not!"

And he said it with such decision Ben Weatherstaff looked him over, up and down, down and up.

"Tha' die!" he said with dry exultation. "Nowt o' th' sort! Tha's got too much pluck in thee. When I seed thee put tha' legs on th' ground in such a hurry I knowed tha' was all right. Sit thee down on th' rug a bit young Mester an' give me thy orders."

There was a queer mixture of crabbed tenderness and shrewd understanding in his manner. Mary had poured out speech as rapidly as she could as they had come down the Long Walk. The chief thing to be remembered, she had told him, was that Colin was getting well--getting well. The garden was doing it. No one must let him remember about having humps and dying.

The Rajah condescended to seat himself on a rug under the tree.

"What work do you do in the gardens, Weatherstaff?" he inquired.

"Anythin' I'm told to do," answered old Ben. "I'm kep' on by favor--because she liked me."

"She?" said Colin.

"Tha' mother," answered Ben Weatherstaff.

"My mother?" said Colin, and he looked about him quietly. "This was her garden, wasn't it?"

"Aye, it was that!" and Ben Weatherstaff looked about him too. "She were main fond of it."

"It is my garden now. I am fond of it. I shall come here every day," announced Colin. "But it is to be a secret. My orders are that no one is to know that we come here. Dickon and my cousin have worked and made it come alive. I shall send for you sometimes to help--but you must come when no one can see you."

Ben Weatherstaff's face twisted itself in a dry old smile.

"I've come here before when no one saw me," he said.

"What!" exclaimed Colin.

"When?"

"Th' last time I was here," rubbing his chin and looking round, "was about two year' ago."

"But no one has been in it for ten years!" cried Colin.

"There was no door!"

"I'm no one," said old Ben dryly. "An' I didn't come through th' door. I come over th' wall. Th' rheumatics held me back th' last two year'."

"Tha' come an' did a bit o' prunin'!" cried Dickon. "I couldn't make out how it had been done."

"She was so fond of it--she was!" said Ben Weatherstaff slowly. "An' she was such a pretty young thing. She says to me once, `Ben,' says she laughin', `if ever I'm ill or if I go away you must take care of my roses.' When she did go away th' orders was no one was ever to come nigh. But I come," with grumpy obstinacy. "Over th' wall I come--until th' rheumatics stopped me--an' I did a bit o' work once a year. She'd gave her order first."

"It wouldn't have been as wick as it is if tha' hadn't done it," said Dickon. "I did wonder."

"I'm glad you did it, Weatherstaff," said Colin. "You'll know how to keep the secret."

"Aye, I'll know, sir," answered Ben. "An, it'll be easier for a man wi' rheumatics to come in at th' door."

On the grass near the tree Mary had dropped her trowel. Colin stretched out his hand and took it up. An odd expression came into his face and he began to scratch at the earth. His thin hand was weak enough but presently as they watched him--Mary with quite breathless interest--he drove the end of the trowel into the soil and turned some over.

"You can do it! You can do it!" said Mary to herself. "I tell you, you can!"

Dickon's round eyes were full of eager curiousness but he said not a word. Ben Weatherstaff looked on with interested face.

Colin persevered. After he had turned a few trowelfuls of soil he spoke exultantly to Dickon in his best Yorkshire.

"Tha' said as tha'd have me walkin' about here same as other folk--an' tha' said tha'd have me diggin'. I thowt tha' was just leein' to please me. This is only th' first day an' I've walked--an' here I am diggin'."

Ben Weatherstaff's mouth fell open again when he heard him, but he ended by chuckling.

"Eh!" he said, "that sounds as if tha'd got wits enow. Tha'rt a Yorkshire lad for sure. An' tha'rt diggin', too. How'd tha' like to plant a bit o' somethin'? I can get thee a rose in a pot."

"Go and get it!" said Colin, digging excitedly. "Quick! Quick!"

It was done quickly enough indeed. Ben Weatherstaff went his way forgetting rheumatics. Dickon took his spade and dug the hole deeper and wider than a new digger with thin white hands could make it. Mary slipped out to run and bring back a watering-can. When Dickon had deepened the hole Colin went on turning the soft earth over and over. He looked up at the sky, flushed and glowing with the strangely new exercise, slight as it was.

"I want to do it before the sun goes quite--quite down," he said.

Mary thought that perhaps the sun held back a few minutes just on purpose. Ben Weatherstaff brought the rose in its pot from the greenhouse. He hobbled over the grass as fast as he could. He had begun to be excited, too. He knelt down by the hole and broke the pot from the mould.

"Here, lad," he said, handing the plant to Colin. "Set it in the earth thysel' same as th' king does when he goes to a new place."

The thin white hands shook a little and Colin's flush grew deeper as he set the rose in the mould and held it while old Ben made firm the earth. It was filled in and pressed down and made steady. Mary was leaning forward on her hands and knees. Soot had flown down and marched forward to see what was being done. Nut and Shell chattered about it from a cherry-tree.

"It's planted!" said Colin at last. "And the sun is only slipping over the edge. Help me up, Dickon. I want to be standing when it goes. That's part of the Magic."

And Dickon helped him, and the Magic--or whatever it was--so gave him strength that when the sun did slip over the edge and end the strange lovely afternoon for them there he actually stood on his two feet--laughing.

[houseofglass]

ABO Virus: Pack Life     Chapter 16 - Garden

As always, here is the AO3 link

Dean stood in front of Sam expecting he was getting a pill. A <em>whole</em> pill. Not the half pill Sam was holding out. He was really enjoying his fuzzy little world and wasn't happy at all that his brother was deciding to lower his dosage. It was when he caught himself shouting at Sam that he recognized why Sam was being controlling. Not that it was easy. It wasn't. But he got through it by clinging to Sam, crying, and being a big ball of irritability for a while.

Cas noticed Dean's behaviour, also noting when he offered to step in and help Sam's channel flashed with failure, so he backed off. Instead he started giving Sam small orders for him to fulfill, as well as a time when the order was expected to be completed. Cas reinforced his orders by using his Alpha voice to praise Sam's efforts. The results were immediate, Sam wasn't dragging himself around the bunker as much and was looking much more confident. Dean responded well to Sam's confidence, obeying him a little more easily and accepting Sam's decisions without a fuss.

#

Dean wandered around the library looking at random titles. He knew most of it inside and out, but there were sections he had no reason to go into yet, so he was exploring. Cas was at the store, Sam was nearby – always hovering it seemed – but far enough away to give him some space. The lower dose of pills cleared up his mind a bit....fine....a lot....and now he discovered his brain itched for something to do. He'd checked his emails and found nothing urgent. There were several with 'sympathies' or 'sorry to hear' in the subject line. He didn't even open those. Baby was resting in the garage but he didn't want to start working on her yet. Soon, but not yet. He hadn't even assessed the damage yet, not quite feeling ready to even look.

As he wandered in the library, his finger snagged a well-worn spine of a book so he pulled it out without looking. When it was in his hands he noticed the title, shocked that it was a gardening book. Next to the space on the shelf were several more on the same subject. Dean flipped through the pages of the one in his hand and saw most pages had notations in the margins. A random check of the other books revealed the same thing, including a hand drawn map of a garden. If the Men of Letters had gardening books, and they were well used, there must be a garden somewhere, he thought.

There was a brief moment of consideration of telling Sam where he was going, but he discarded the idea. The bunker was big but not huge, Sam could find him if he was persistent enough. Dean knew they were underground on a massive property, which meant the garden must be above him. So, without further ado, he started trying to find a staircase that led outside without using the front door or the garage. Eventually he found it behind a door that looked like all the doors in the bunker.

It was only one flight up before there was another door leading outside. It opened next to what looked like a greenhouse. After making sure the door wouldn't lock behind him – and wondering why there was no lock on the door – he stepped out into the bright sun to look around, immediately wishing he'd put on his boots.

The property was huge and lined with trees. When Dean really struggled he could remember seeing the trees from the street but nothing past them. From where he was standing he couldn't see the road either. Next to the door was the greenhouse, which he realized was in very poor shape as soon as he stepped inside. Several glass panes were missing, there were holes in the floor, and the bench or shelves were reduced to rubble. Good for burning, but not much else. A few steps away from the greenhouse was a shed, which was in better condition. It was wooden and sturdily built. The door was swollen from neglect and the elements, but that was an easy fix. All he had to do was plane it down. After he bought a planing tool, of course. The shelves inside the shed were in much better shape than the greenhouse's shelves. These ones were intact and just dirty. The tools were a write-off though. They would need to be taken to an Eco Station and replaced.

Dean fished the map out of his pocket and held up against the view. He could see now where the vegetable garden was by the faint indentation in the ground. There were bushes along one edge, which Dean discovered were fruit bearing if the map was correct, as well as an apple tree, a pear tree, and a cherry tree. And Dean made up his mind.

He got himself down the stairs as quickly as his socks would allow without slipping – he didn't need to be in a hospital again for a while thank you very much – and started looking for Sam. He started in the war room where he'd last seen his brother and found him still there.

“Is everything ok?” Sam asked with worry. Dean was practically screaming but he didn't scent as hurt.

“I found something. C'mere,” he ordered and took off again.

Sam sighed heavily and flipped his book over. Dean was excited, which was good. Just as he stood his phone alarm went off, telling him it was time to give Dean another half pill. Rather than mention it, he turned the alarm off and pocketed his phone, figuring Dean would demand a pill in good time. He followed his brother's scent to a door at the end of a hall, noting the staircase on the other side of it. “We really should map out the entire bunker one day,” he said absently as he watched Dean go up the stairs. “Dude, your socks are filthy.”

“I do the laundry, so it's my problem,” Dean retorted with a smile as he opened the door at the top of the stairs, holding it for Sam.

Sam ascended the stairs, wondering what was so interesting about being able to get outside. “Ok. So we can get outside a different way....” he trailed off. “Is that a greenhouse?”

“Yep! And look, a garden!” Dean held the map out for Sam to see.

Sam passed his eyes from the map to the property and saw it. “We could grow our own vegetables,” he breathed. “I've always wanted a garden.”

“I know,” Dean confided.

“How did you know?”

“Really? Every time dad found a rental house you were in the back yard planning where to put the carrots.”

“We never stayed long enough,” Sam remembered. He also remembered giving up the dream before puberty and was surprised Dean had retained the information. “This will be a lot of work.”

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “But so what? It's not like I'm doing much right now.” He passed a hand over his tiny potbelly. “And I'm getting soft,” he admitted quietly.

“Physical labour is a good thing,” Sam conceded. “Are there tools?”

Dean showed him around, commenting on every tiny thing as he did. When he was done, he started asking if Sam wanted to help fix the buildings and dig the garden.

Sam quickly realized this was a conversation about getting the garden ready for planting, not about whether or not they should do it. “Yeah....yeah I want to help. Do you think Cas will want to as well?”

“Probably,” Dean agreed. “I know he's happy at the store, but I remember how he looked when he'd talk about new plants coming in at the greenhouse, or how he nursed some back to life so they could be sold. Do you wanna wait for him?”

Sam considered it, but it was hours until Cas was off work and Dean was practically bouncing with energy to get started. “Why don't we get the garbage cleaned out first, then we can show him when he gets home,” he suggested.

“I'll go get boots on.” Dean was down the stairs and heading for the bedroom before Sam caught up.

“Older jeans,” Sam reminded him when he entered the bedroom and saw his brother without pants and socks.

“No shit,” Dean said with a grin.

Sam's face broke into a wide smile. Dean looked happier than he'd been in a while. “Cas took the truck to work so we have to wait for him to get home before going to get new stuff,” he mused out loud as he changed into older clothes as well. “We have some shovels in the trunk,” he added, thinking of the Impala.

“You grab them,” Dean said as he zipped up. “I'm not....I don't wanna....”

“I'll get them. Do me a favour and grab some water bottles to take outside?” Sam waited for Dean to nod before heading out to the mangled car. He could see why Dean would be hesitant to go near it. Baby looked awful. Sam knew his brother would deal with it in good time, and for now it could sit in a corner. The trunk opened easily and for a moment Sam was lost in a bit of nostalgia. All the tools of their trade were still there, tucked away and ready to go. Sam found the shovels and work gloves exactly where they were supposed to be, he could have found them blindfolded. After bundling everything of use into his arms, he gently closed the trunk and made his way outside.

“Ready?” Dean asked as Sam dropped everything in a pile. Sam nodded as he put on his gloves. Dean put on the other pair and started clearing the rubble out of the greenhouse.

#

Cas entered the kitchen at the same time as the brothers. He immediately noticed their dirty clothes, flushed faces, and slight sheen of sweat, but didn't ask about it. Instead he stared at Dean, who looked more alive than he had since the accident. “Did you two have a good afternoon?”

Dean could not stop smiling. He moved into Cas' arms and received a hug, loving how powerful his arms were around him. Part of him wanted to nuzzle into Cas' neck and just stay there, but that part of him was always lurking around so it was nothing new. “Yeah we did. You want to tell him Sammy?” he asked just before kissing Cas hello.

“Dean found a garden,” Sam started, going in for his hug the second Dean was released. “We'll show you after dinner.”

Cas held Sam close, enjoying how each brother fit against him differently. “I would like to see it very much,” he said after giving Sam a light kiss.

“There's still a lot of daylight left. I was gonna keep working on it after dinner. You can help if you want,” Dean told Cas as he got the rice ready for the cooker.

“I would like that, I think. I'll go change,” Cas told them as he headed to the bedroom.

After dinner was done and the dishwasher running, Dean led his pack to the stairwell and out to the garden. He showed Cas around like he did with Sam earlier, and noticed Cas perk up with each new bit of information.

Sam had brought a notepad and pen as well as a tape measure with him. While Dean gave the basic tour, Sam inspected the missing panels on the greenhouse to see how best to replace them. Cas started calling out names of tools they'd need, so Sam followed with his notepad and assembled a list. Sam also explained how to properly prune the bushes and trees to give them fruit, and which vegetable would be planted where.

Between the three of them they got all the rubble and broken tools into the back of the pickup in only one trip. It was still early enough in the day to make it to the recycle center as well as the gardening store, so they piled in and set out to the Eco Station first. Dean thought Cas wouldn't want to go back to the greenhouse he worked at as he quit without giving much notice, but Cas didn't mind.

Shopping was easy, Cas remembered which brands had better tools and which seeds customers raved over. Dean started out with white knuckles on the cart, not liking the crowds or the potential of meeting any more rutting Alphas. Maybe it was because of the time of day, or the section of the store they were in, but they only encountered fellow gardeners who were also gearing up for the planting season.

Bedding plants weren't in yet, but they would be by the end of the week, Cas found out. Dean just smiled. If Cas wanted tons of flowers, there would be tons of flowers. Between Cas and Sam, they managed to get everything they thought they'd need. Dean had no clear idea what to buy or what would be best, so he just accepted that his mates knew what they were doing, figuring if the only contribution he made was to dig the garden and weed it, then it would be enough.

It took more than one trip to get everything from the back of the pickup to the garden, but they managed. Sam got to work on the floor of the greenhouse while Dean repaired the shed and Cas marked out the area to be dug. By sundown, the greenhouse had new panels in the floor, the shed's door actually closed properly, and they'd broken ground on digging the vegetable patch.

“I need a shower before bed,” Dean informed his mates as they sauntered down the stairs. Each was moving a bit slower than before, aches and pains only just setting in now.

“Hell yes. Hot water pounding on my back would be awesome,” Sam said as he stretched out.

“Is your back bothering you?” Cas worried.

“Nah, not really. I'm just out of shape,” Sam laughed as they entered the bathroom.

Usually, the three of them showered under the same head. This time, Sam took his own stall and let the water massage his back and shoulders before beginning to wash. Under different circumstances, Dean would have used the semi-privacy to do some naughty things with Cas one stall over. But as it was, he wasn't ready for sex yet. Cas seemed to accept that easily and kept the washing to just washing and nothing more. Except for kisses. Cas could not keep the smile off his face and lips off Dean's, even though the kisses were chaste.

It wasn't until they were all in bed, snuggled against each other, that Dean remembered his pain pills. As far as he could remember, the last one he took was before he was in the library. There was no pain at all, and Dean checked. Seriously examined every square inch of himself from inside his mind to see if he could justify taking one, but he couldn't. If he took one now, it was for addiction, not pain management. He could acknowledge that. Barely. He started slightly when he saw Sam looking at him as if he was assessing him.

Sam noticed Dean struggling with wanting another pill. He hadn't asked for one since his mid-morning dose, and he'd skipped his nap so Sam thought he'd be cranky and demanding. But he wasn't. Dean was tired, bone tired from the feel of the channel, and wrestling with deciding whether or not to ask for a pill. “Going to work on the garden some more tomorrow?” Sam asked in a low voice, hoping to distract Dean enough to get him to sleep without chemical aid.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, stupidly grateful for something else to think about. “We need a new bench for the greenhouse and the rest of the garden needs to be dug out. There's lots to do.”

“There are several flowers I'd like to plant,” Cas added in his own low voice, also well aware of Dean's internal struggle. He'd wanted to give Dean the space to work through it on his own, so he maintained a respectful distance in the channel, ready to step in the instant he was needed. “And herbs in the greenhouse when it's ready. I would like to consider some landscaping as well. Perhaps a sitting area to enjoy the bees and the flowers.” Cas felt Dean was at the tipping point of letting go of the pills, so he started listing off the flowers he'd like to plant, using his most calming voice to soothe Dean.

Dean closed his eyes and let Cas' low rumble carry him off to sleep, happy images of flowers invading his dreams.