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kat_lair***
Title: time to sow
Author:kat_lair / Mistress Kat
Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved/Watcher Entertainment RPF
Pairing: Shane/Ryan
Tags: Gardens/Gardening, Emotionally Repressed
Rating: G
Word count: 281
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: "It's a seed bomb," Ryan says. He's holding a round ball of dirt and looking disgustingly happy about it.
Author notes: Another full ficlet that came out of the prompts thrown my way, this bypushkin666's autocorrect :D
time to sow on AO3
"It's a seed bomb," Ryan says. He's holding a round ball of dirt and looking disgustingly happy about it. "There's like hundreds of wildflower seeds in here. And you just..." He casts about and then jogs over to the narrow strip of overgrown grass between the houses (one supposedly haunted, the other just generally run down).
Shane follows him, because of course he does.
Ryan is already digging a hole in the dirt with his sneaker and then when that doesn't quite work he gets right in there with his hands, kneeling on the ground as he reverently places the seed bomb into its new home, covering it lightly.
"There!" He pats the earth and gets up. There's dirt and clumps of grass clinging to his knees, an insignificant detail which Shane has absolutely no feelings about. "And then..." He flutters his fingers, presumably mimicking wildflowers growing. "Bees and butterflies and pollinators!"
"Pollinators," Shane repeats. There's an ache in his chest which is probably an early sign of heart disease. "That's a big word."
"Fuck you," Ryan tells him cheerfully. "Those guys are gonna have a blast! It'll be like... Bee bacchanalia!" He beams like the sun and Shane swallows down 'bacchanalia' and some other words that don't quite make it to his conscious thoughts but that he knows are dangerous.
"Needs some-"
Silently Shane hands Ryan his water bottle.
"Aww, yes!" Carefully Ryan drizzles half of it over the planted bomb.
Shane tips his head back and looks at the sky, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. There are rain clouds on the horizon, slate grey and deep purple of new bruises. Good for the seed bomb, he thinks. Breathes.
***
Title: time to sow
Author:
kat_lair / Mistress KatFandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved/Watcher Entertainment RPF
Pairing: Shane/Ryan
Tags: Gardens/Gardening, Emotionally Repressed
Rating: G
Word count: 281
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: "It's a seed bomb," Ryan says. He's holding a round ball of dirt and looking disgustingly happy about it.
Author notes: Another full ficlet that came out of the prompts thrown my way, this by
pushkin666's autocorrect :Dtime to sow on AO3
"It's a seed bomb," Ryan says. He's holding a round ball of dirt and looking disgustingly happy about it. "There's like hundreds of wildflower seeds in here. And you just..." He casts about and then jogs over to the narrow strip of overgrown grass between the houses (one supposedly haunted, the other just generally run down).
Shane follows him, because of course he does.
Ryan is already digging a hole in the dirt with his sneaker and then when that doesn't quite work he gets right in there with his hands, kneeling on the ground as he reverently places the seed bomb into its new home, covering it lightly.
"There!" He pats the earth and gets up. There's dirt and clumps of grass clinging to his knees, an insignificant detail which Shane has absolutely no feelings about. "And then..." He flutters his fingers, presumably mimicking wildflowers growing. "Bees and butterflies and pollinators!"
"Pollinators," Shane repeats. There's an ache in his chest which is probably an early sign of heart disease. "That's a big word."
"Fuck you," Ryan tells him cheerfully. "Those guys are gonna have a blast! It'll be like... Bee bacchanalia!" He beams like the sun and Shane swallows down 'bacchanalia' and some other words that don't quite make it to his conscious thoughts but that he knows are dangerous.
"Needs some-"
Silently Shane hands Ryan his water bottle.
"Aww, yes!" Carefully Ryan drizzles half of it over the planted bomb.
Shane tips his head back and looks at the sky, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. There are rain clouds on the horizon, slate grey and deep purple of new bruises. Good for the seed bomb, he thinks. Breathes.
***