stand steady.

AND EARTHROOTED IS OFFICIALLY ARCHIVED !!

wesley’s  never  been  able  to  sit  still  –  the  word  his  mother  uses  is  wiggly ,  &  it’s  certainly  not  the  first  time  wesley’s  been  scolded  for  fidgeting .  it’s  a  restless  energy ,  he  supposes ,  that  he’s  carried  with  him  to  adulthood ;  small  wonder ,  then ,  that  dancing  is  the  one  time  he  feels  in  control . 

❝  –  is  it  done  yet ?  ❞  wesley  asks ,  blowing  a  tuft  of  hair  from  his  eyes .   wesley  had  never  particularly  cared  for  flowers  before ,  but parker  really  had  an  eye  for  this  kind  of  stuff .  ❝ i  wanna  seeeee .   i  bet  it’s  cute  !!  ❞ 

     a faint smile curls upon countenance at the impatience in wesley’s voice ( though not at all at the way the other has yet to complete still, always a ball of energy ready to move ), fingers once again lightly tugging at his hair in quiet reprimand. “it won’t get done if you don’t wait a little,” comes the murmured warning, though parker is all but finished with his handiwork, readjusting the crown so it rests more comfortably upon the other’s head.

@earthrooted L I K E D this post for a starter ♥ ooh supportive buds; we stan

Working on a movie was probably one of the hardest challenges to date but she took it in her stride–she was branching out into the fame and fortune of Hollywood when a famous directer caught sight of her popularity in career and got her in for an interview. Originally Hana hadn’t been planning on becoming an actress but she would give anything a try. She had managed to convince Parker to join her for the much needed support, she was petrified but having him there brought a little bit of ease.

As she was on set, the make up artists and hair stylists were making sure she looked perfect for her shot but she was busy playing around with some prop she had found laying on the floor. Pulling silly faces towards her friend, she tried not to laugh at her own actions before the director told everyone that after this quick scene, they would be packing up for the evening.

It didn’t take long for her to speed through her lines and the many praises and compliments at how beautiful she looked on camera was making her shy before she was allowed to head off. Running over to the male, she wrapped her arms around his torso and embraced him tightly, “I can’t believe you stayed through the whole thing?! We should get some food–my treat!”

     he normally wouldn’t agree to tag along with hana for something as out of his comfort zone as a movie set, always uncomfortable when he was the inner city for any longer than a day, but something childish within him wanted to see the new terrain of a movie set, wanted to see the movie magic that went into making things for the big screen, wanted to see how different hana was when it was just them two hanging out and when she had a role to fill ( both literally and figuratively ).

    while the day was long and the presence of the earth was a dull presence rather than its vibrant self, parker was glad to be there, to support his friend, to watch her be her ridiculously goofy self even amidst the attentive make up artists and hair stylists and directors and lighting crew and whoever else was present, biting back a small chuckle when he saw her goofy expression. attention never lingered far from her, watching the way she spoke her lines near flawlessly, watching the way she was flocked and praised, a small smile remaining a permanent fixture upon lips.

     the demon clicks his tongue, finger wagging in disagreement. shouldn’t the witch know that the fact that there’s a separate word for the two means it’s something entirely different? noeul counts it another win when the witch’s shoulder seizes and he backs away once more, stepping away. this is just too delightful ! “ hm, you could always try. if you don’t you wouldn’t know ! ” noeul wriggles his eyebrows with an unbothered shrug, challenge in his tone barely hidden. “ and let’s just say, i know what you are because of what i am. ” riddles, riddles, riddles; noeul is not intent on making this easy for the witch at all. if the demon truly wanted, he could learn of this witch’s name with just an order to his subordinates but this is far more interesting.

     an ache grows beneath chest, unfamiliar yet not in the way roots flourish within veins and threaten to wrap round neck in a noose ready to tighten ; apologetic downcast of eyes is not enough of an apology, one that remains burned onto tongue rather than breathed out. there is no reason that he can possibly think to give, no explanation he can hope to form, that will ease the schism he has put between them ; he feels sick to stomach merely standing as he is now, and the comforting call of the other’s magic is not enough to ease tremors in hands nor lift gaze from floor.

     “i won’t give you excuses.” quiet voice, words that do not waver, and finally a glance upwards, to meet eyes with the other, to face head on the hurt that must surely be coloring namoo’s expression ; the excuses that buzz around mind are paper-thin at best, nothing but a fear of the unknown swirling within the other, curling around them both and threatening to wrap around thin chest relentlessly, nothing but the sudden sensation of being too small in a world whose entirety is present in him. it is not him, so unlike him, but fear has driven him to do irrational things before ( though it is only now he has turned back to face that fear rather than keep it in the past as he’s done before ).

     “i - i should go.” the witch should let fall the apology burning painfully on lips but it feels useful, bound to fail, to incite only an anger in the otherwise soft boy. it feels like another excuse, and those roots round his neck tighten further.

     the demon cackles, more than delighted. “ oh dear, oh dear, i didn’t say that. you did. ” he stares after the witch who’d taken a step away, putting distance between the both of them. another win for the demon, he supposes and his lips only curl higher, tighter. “ well, if you’d just give me your name, witchy boy, we wouldn’t be strangers anymore. ” the demon straightens up with a shrug, nonchalant, but glides one step closer, effectively putting him in the other’s personal space once more. “ and before you say it’s not fair, i’m noeul. there, now, it’s fair. ”