#I haven’t propagated plants before

[positivelyqueer]

the amount of joy I received from purchasing and propagating eight indoor plants to fill my bathroom is unequivocal.

[justastraymoa]

ADVENTURES WITH CHEESE EXTENDED EDITION PT 6

My dream job was currently a nightmare. Several sudden changes in upper management prompted a full audit of the system and all our work. It was chaotic and messy. Add on top of that the new management all had their own ideas they wanted to implement. Different ways to make the team “work more efficiently”. Which was causing delays in all the work and unnecessary stress to all the employees.

I had worked no less than 13 hours a day for the last two weeks, even going in on the weekend to make up some work. And I wasn’t the only one. The office was never empty at this point.

I was exhausted and ready to collapse at any second. So, I finished up my current project and packed up to go home. Determined to take tomorrow off no matter what. I wasn’t going to answer any calls or texts or anything at all. I earned this day off with my own blood, sweat, and many, many tears!

When I walked into my room to find my favorite plant destroyed and the dirt from the pot all over my bedroom floor, I was ready to burst into hysterics.

Cheese was laying among the dirt without a care in the world, grooming his paws. Pieces of my precious plant leaves were scattered around him like he had shredded it then rolled around in its corpse.

I sighed and dropped my bag onto the floor. So very done with this week.

I loved my boys dearly, but ill be damned if I let them go back on this grounding! I am done with this bratty behavior from Cheese! He had never messed with my plant before, and I don’t know why he decided today of all days was a good day to break my heart.

I spent years carefully propagating that plant over and over, so it was nice and long and bushy. It took several years to get it as amazing as it had been. It was my pride and joy and I loved to spend time carefully trimming off the dead leaves and making sure it stayed green and healthy.

I even went so far as to kick Cheese out of my room and shut the door. He would run out anyways when I turned on the vacuum to clean up the mess he made, but it still made me feel a little better to let him know just how upset I was with him.

It took 30 minutes to clean up the plant corpse, and I carefully went through the remains to see if there was anything I could use to try and propagate and start the process all over again. I liked bringing a little green into my city life and I am just stubborn enough to be willing to start from scratch to get it again.

Chan came home somewhere near the end of clean up to help before engulfing me in a hug and curling up on my bed with me.

“Go to sleep. You haven’t slept at all this week, and you are exhausted.” he said lowly tucking my head under his chin and rubbing my back.

“I have things I need to get done.” But I did not move to leave his warm embrace, body automatically relaxing under the weight of his arms around me and the sound of his heartbeat and breathing under my ear.

Chan hummed making my head vibrate slightly and eardrum tickle. “It will still be there when you wake up. Sleep.”

With a deep, drawn-out sigh I gave in to his gentle demands. Let someone else take care of me for a few minutes. It felt good, and I was secretly glad that Chan came home early just to make sure I was okay.

I woke up a couple hours later, still in Chans arms as he played on his phone behind my back quietly. I could hear the others chatting and banging around in the front entry as they got in.

With a deep yawn I stretched before curling back up into Chan, not yet ready to be awake. Chan for his part left me be, running my back idly and kissing the top of my head for a few minutes while I woke up.

“You really upset your mother today, Cheese. Why are you being mean to her?” I could hear Lino near my still closed door as he most likely picked Cheese up for his first cuddles of the night. “She grounded you and everything! You have some sucking up to do.” His voice got quieter as he walked away from the door.

“You ready to get up yet? You know they are just going to come in here in a few minutes if you don’t go out.” Chan asked quietly petting my hair. I whined in response.

Chan allowed me to hide for a few minutes more before getting us both up and moving.

I think it was more likely that Cheese was screaming his dislike for the terms of his grounding. He hadn’t had any treats all day and he had been stuck in the house with no special trips or car rides to speak of. He was upset.

But the boys have been respecting my declaration of grounding as far as I was aware. Even if Lino kept giving me dirty looks when Cheese came up to him and started meowing pathetically.

I lasted for the entire day before my anger wore off and the meows and glared started melting my heart and resolve.

“Fine! He’s not grounded anymore! Go crazy!” I snapped finally. Immediately all 4 boys dived for the treat tin we had sitting on the kitchen island making me roll my eyes. They were so whipped for my cat it was crazy,

Cheese spent the rest of the night getting treat after treat and going feral.

Cheese had spent half the night zooming around the apartment keeping me up. Apparently, no one else was bothered by it though. Bin aside, no one had even mentioned it.

But it was no wonder that he was all cuddly and sleepy with Chan now. He wore himself out being hyped up on cat treats!

At least be probably burned all the extra calories those treats had.

Still Chans comment brought a smile to my lips. Cheese has saved me many times over the years. He had been there when I was sad to cuddle me and loved me to cheer me up. He had been there to make me laugh when I wanted to scream. And he was there when I was scared and alone in the big city, away from home and my parents for the first time in my life and at a complete loss at what to do.

And lastly, he brought me, Chan, Bin, Lino, and Hyune together.

A/N: Two in one night! Though I feel like this one is kinda short too so yeah. Also, I changed the order this original post was in to fit the storyline a bit better. I hope you don't mind.

Thank you for reading and interacting. Or just reading or just interacting, if that’s your thing. I hope you enjoyed this little Cheese adventure!

Masterlist

Skz + pets masterlist

Taglist: @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[moonstruckme]

Hiii! Maybe you can write something with reader having like 20 plants in her dorm. Like a plant mom!

Thanks for requesting :)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

“This isn’t gonna work,” you scold, nudging the spout of your watering can carefully between leaves to the center of the pot. “I gave you the prime sun spot, and you’re still gonna wilt on me? That’s just ungrateful, Phin.” 

There’s a knock on the door, and do a once-over of your room before going to meet Eddie at the door. He’d let you know he’d be coming by to pick up the flannel he’d lent you the other night (you’re disappointed you don’t get to keep it, though you haven’t let him know that), but he hasn’t been in your dorm before; you always wait outside when he’s supposed to be picking you up. Thankfully, you’d remembered to put away the folded laundry on your bed, and your space is looking decently tidy. 

“Hey.” Your grin is already in place as you open the door, your dopamine centers responding to Eddie’s presence the same as they respond to the aroma of cookies in the oven or your favorite song coming on the radio. 

“Hey, you.” Eddie’s smiling too, peering around you to see into your room. “Who’re you talking to?”

“No one.” You open the door all the way to show him, and Eddie’s eyes go wide enough to show white all the way around his irises. “Just Phin.” 

“You…you have a fucking jungle in here.” Eddie’s gawping, seeming unable to focus on any one plant as his gaze skims your room. You suppose it probably would look like a bit much if you weren’t used to it. You’ve got greenery lining your windowsill, pots taking up half your desk, vines drooping down from your shelves. You’ve had to put a few on the floor too, since the only other surfaces in the room don’t get enough sun. All in all, it’s a lot of green in not a ton of space. Eddie seems at a loss for words, but then his eyebrows twitch towards each other and he blinks. “Wait, who’s Phin?”

“Phineas,” you explain, gently touching the leaf of your baby pothos. You’d propagated him from a giant one you’ve had for years, but he’s struggling a bit as he roots in his new soil. 

Eddie’s looking at you like you’re a marvel now too. “They have names? You talk to them?”

“Of course they have names. And talking is supposed to help them grow.” You soften your voice just slightly, throwing a cautious look at Dorothy over on your shelf. “Though I sometimes wonder if some of them are more introverted than others. Some of my spider plants don’t seem to appreciate it.” 

Eddie grins in that familiar toothy way that makes you wonder if he’s going to tease you, but his voice is warm and sweet as honeyed tea when he says, “Well shit, sweetheart, I didn’t know I was coming over to meet so many of your friends. I would’ve dressed better.” 

You laugh, gesturing for him to follow as you go sit on your bed. “I wouldn’t worry about it, I don’t think they can even tell us apart. Which is a shame, because I devote so much care to them and they wouldn’t know me from Adam, but oh well.” You let your gaze skim over Eddie as he gets comfy beside you, laying down on his side and propping one head on his hand. He’s got on another flannel, under which is a Black Sabbath t-shirt. His jeans are faded, with a stain that looks suspiciously like chocolate just above the knee, and his hair is taking well to the lack of humidity in the chilly season, curls bouncy and defined. “You look nice anyway, so.” 

Little lines spread like cartoonish rays of sunshine from the outer corners of Eddie’s eyes. “Daww, thanks, sweet thing. Sure you’re not just buttering me up so you can keep my shirt?”

You look to where you’ve left it, washed and folded primly on your desk. “I’m not,” you promise wistfully, “but…if that would work on you, I can start.” 

Eddie takes your hand and begins tracing the lines of your palm absentmindedly. “You can have it. I mostly just wanted to see you. And I got to meet the roommates, so double bonus.” Your heart swells like a hot air balloon, big and warm and buoyant in your chest. Eddie turns your hand over, stroking gently at the skin below your knuckle. “What happened here?”

You lean over to see, laying down next to him with your shoulder pressed against his bicep as he runs his thumb over a tiny cut on your middle finger. “Oh, that was Willie.” You nod towards the cactus on the edge of your desk. “He scraped me while I was moving him to a bigger pot.” 

Eddie glares in the cactus’ direction. “Little fucker,” he grumbles, kissing your finger lightly. “You can’t let these guys push you around, babe. You’re too good, you’ll take care of them no matter what. I think I’m gonna have to start coming around more to lay down the law.” 

You don’t think of your plants as nearly so villainous as Eddie paints them, but you’re not going to argue against his being in your room more often. You tilt your head until it hits his shoulder. “If you think so,” you say noncommittally. 

“I do,” he confirms, turning your hand back over and bringing it to lay on his chest, both of his clasped over it protectively. “You’re my best girl, you know? I can’t let you be bullied by a bunch of leafy assholes.”

“They’re generally nice to me.” You smile against his shoulder, and Eddie’s kiss is a gentle pressure on the top of your head. 

“For now, sweetheart, but they’ve got you surrounded. Think I’d better stick around for a while, just to keep an eye on things.”

[rattzphobic]

Marionette Ch. 7

Marionette (Ao3)

NSFW WARNING

Teia and Viago left Illario alone with Marionette in the picturesque forest beyond the de Riva Vineyard.

Tags and full chapter below the cut! Read the previous six chapters on Ao3 with more to come!

Handjob, blowjob, cunnilingus, squirting, double penetration, public sex, voyeurism, spanking, choking, throat training, edging, orgasm denial, prostitution, breeding, hair pulling, lingerie, bondage, sensory deprivation, rimming, marking, watersports, mutual masturbation, outdoor sex, scratching, puppy play, humiliation, creampie, body worship, wrap around, threesome, vaginal, anal, somnophilia, cnc, spanking  07

The narcissus flower had its roots in an ancient Elvhen story that had been told and retold since the beginning of recorded history. They said an elf had found himself so enchanted by his own beauty, that one of his gods had cursed him to forever grow by the poolside nearest his own reflection. When hearing that story for the first time, Illario had always imagined the brightest, most vibrant blue flower growing in a hazy spring field beside a clear stream turned silver in the moonlight. 

When he saw the bloom for the first time, he was disappointed.

It was only a small white flower with a yellow center. It didn’t strike him as the kind of plant to inspire mythology. 

It was only when he picked it up and pulled it to his nose that he understood. Bitter orange and woody notes filled his mind with the idea of a elf so beautiful all the world stopped and stared. He had worn the flower in his breast pocket for months after that. A new one each day. Soon enough, the flowers had propagated into the garden, and the white bloom was everywhere. 

The memory was the only reason why he recognized the woman's scent. But her flower was different. Darker. It coaxed him in closer. 

He wondered if the water loved looking back at the handsome elf. He wondered if the grass itself grew in glee of having been touched by him. 

Jasmine. Rose. Par Vollen Orange Flower. Vanilla. Musk. 

Touch me. 

Eat me. 

Devour me.

She was sitting on the other side of the table with all the languidness of a cat out in the sun. Her black hair was loose around her shoulders. It spilled like ink down to her waist. Her skirts pooled around her in the chair, and the red silk seemed even more vibrant in the sun.

“You didn’t answer my question before.” Illario spoke up. Viago and Teia had disappeared down into the wood beyond them, leaving the two alone. 

“Hm?” She turned and gave him an innocent look, but her smile was anything but.

“Have you been crying?” 

A muscle in her throat twinged below the red ribbon. “Such a personal question. And you haven’t even yet asked me my name.” She shook her head.

“I know it already. Your keepers were shouting it like hens clucking for their chick before they found you again in the vineyard.”

“My keepers?” She scoffed.

“Isn’t that what they are?”

“They’re… proprietors.” She corrected.

“Of?”

She shrugged and stood. She had full breasts that moved beneath the thin fabric of her bodice with each step she took as she paced beyond the table in slow movements. Her smell blew towards him in the wind. Her eyes never met his; and he knew it was not for any reason of shyness. She was playing with him. He felt a tightness in his chest and a warmth in his gut and shifted eagerly in his chair. 

“Marionette.” He pouted in voice only. She stopped her pacing, looking beyond.

“You don’t have to skirt around the word whore.” Her shoulders rose as she exhaled a sigh.

“I wouldn’t insult you so.” 

“It’s not an insult. To me, at least.”

“Don’t tell me Mama Teia and Papa Viago rented you out to come here to fuck you.” He said in feigned shock. Half unbelieved, half hoping it was true. 

When she did look at him, his heart jumped up into his throat. Her eyes alone were his answer. 

“And now you’re here with me.” He wanted to laugh. The grin that split his face was enough. The idea that Viago and Teia were… were… Illario swallowed thickly. She had been crying. She had been doing something. Something that made her cheeks red and her eyes glisten with tears. He wondered which one had done it. Which one had broken her and made her keep walking after. He wanted to do it, too. He wanted to do it better. 

“And now I’m here with you.” She mimicked.

Marionette was a few short paces away from him, standing against the backdrop of green like a splash of blood. Her skirts ruffled in the soft breeze. Illario tilted his head as he began to think. Viago didn’t leave them alone together by accident. Was this a test? Or a slight way of giving her away for a moment? He saw her gaze go to look at the trees. He wondered what was on her mind. 

Finally, after a brief silence, he spoke.

“Take off your clothes.” 

With her back to him, he saw only the slight tilt of her head, and the soft profile of her nose as she tossed a look over her shoulder before she began.

Slim, deft tanned fingers reached around her and began work on the thick, strong laces of her bodice. The thing was lined in silk, but most likely made out of a stronger fabric beneath like linen or canvas. The eyelets for the laces were rimmed with gold, and around her waist, connected to the edges of the structure were strings of glittering clear crystals that rung gently as she slowly pulled the piece of clothing apart. Her fingers worked at the bottom, untying a knot, and then slowly kept working up until the bodice fell around her ankles. 

She stepped off to one side, and hooked the bodice around the tip of her bejeweled slipped and tossed it off into the grass. She was left with a shift beneath, connected to the first layer of her skirts. A red silken piece of fabric with fluttering sleeves. 

Her body. Illario wanted to drink that forever. Long legs made longer by her heeled shoes. Slender arms with softly rounded shoulders. A small waist made half hidden behind her thick dark curtain of hair. Marionette pulled her black tresses over a shoulder to show off the deep dip of the dress, exposing the soft skin of her back. He saw the elegant curve of her spine and the barest hint of subtle marks on her skin where her clothing had bitten into her. It left sore pink marks in the shape of the hard line of the bodice. 

Marionette bent over. Her hands hooked on the bottom of her red skirt and slowly, slowly pulled up. It left, now, her corset and her petticoats.

She wore white beneath her red. Was that supposed to mean something? Illario covered his smile with a strong hand and leaned against the table. She was no blushing virgin, that much was true. Her silent undressing, her subtle movements. He saw the curve of her breasts from where he was. Her arms were still raised above her head as she tossed away her dress. He saw the way they moved as she lowered her hands, touching at herself where he could not see. But Illario had a vivid imagination.

His cock throbbed in his pants. He shifted in his stiff chair and swallowed. The anticipation of a good fuck always made him anxious to get it started. But what were her words? He had to earn it? He inhaled, keeping his eyes on her. He would not break this dance. Not until the right moment, at least.

Her skirts were tied in the back, and her fingers once more snaked around and pulled at them. The first petticoat. Then the second. When the last one dropped, it revealed white and silver garters holding up pale stockings attached at her tight laced corset.

And her bare ass against the wind.

He clicked his teeth and shook his head. She stopped.

Her cheeks were marked with the red lashes of a punishment. But it was no crop or hand that made them. It was a belt. A thick, leather belt most likely buckled around Viago’s waist. The lashings left angry red welts across her otherwise perfectly smooth skin, but the pinkish aching flesh seemed only to add to Illario’s arousal. He stood and wiped his mouth, walking over to her.

Still she would not look. It did not matter. He did not need her eyes now. 

He touched her thigh first. Then dragged his fingers across one band that connected to her stockings up to where it pressed against the curve of her ass. He pulled at it and let it slap back down against her. She jumped. Her breasts jostled at the movement.

“What am I supposed to think, huh?” He whispered in her ear. He could smell that black narcissus flower so strongly now. It mixed with her natural musk and the sweet taste of her sweat. He pressed his nose against her scalp just above her ear. His hand grabbed at the soft flesh of her behind. “Sloppy seconds? Marked by someone else before me?”

He spanked her and she gasped. His hands dipped low to touch her cunt and found it sopping. 

“I had to learn a lesson.” She replied, leaning against him, her shoulder to his chest. 

“I imagine it was hard not to.” His fingers spread her lips in several lazy movements. He touched her opening, feeling the fleshy juiciness, but he never slipped a finger inside. Her legs were shaking them, her breath coming in short pants. Still she did not look. “What was the lesson?”

She laughed. A sweet sound. His other hand found her breasts and took one in a palm. They were warm, full and firm when he gave a squeeze. “My place.”

His hands went down from her breasts to meet his other hand between her legs. One from behind, the other in front. He found her throbbing clit and swirled it with one hand. Her whole body shuddered and jerked at the touch. “So sensitive.” Illario chided. All she could answer back with was a moan. 

Her warmth, her wetness, her smell, her presence. Her voice. Her dark hair. The red dress and the white corset and her tanned skin and the marks on her ass and her shaking body. Illario was hard pressed against her arm. When she shuddered at his hands, she rubbed against him, adding to his arousal. 

Her clit was soft and fleshy. Warm from the heat of her core. Illario wanted to touch it with his tongue and taste her in his mouth. But his fingers did the exploring. He pushed apart puffy flesh and touched the puckered hole of her ass before giving her another spank while he kept working on her cunt. The pain was making her shudder and the pleasure was making her blush. Her gasps were becoming sharper, her moans shorter and needier. She leaned hard against him, her hips pressed against his fingers. 

Without warning, her right hand found his wrist and pushed him harder against her and she bit her lip and her back arched and her ribs strained against her corset. Illario felt her throbbing and her moans became strained. He didn’t slow down. He felt her body become tense and she shifted from foot to heeled foot and rolled her hips against his unforgiving touches. He groaned out a laugh when she moaned his name and finally, did she look up at him.

Her eyes were big and black and her cheeks were red and her lips were wet from where she had sucked them into her mouth through her pleasure. She said his name again, her eyes filling with tears, and her hand went from his wrist to his forearm and then to his elbow as her calls became more desperate until –

Illario pulled away and she nearly collapsed. A frustrated shriek slipped from her red lips and she gripped hard on his arms. He felt her hips bucking, her knees going weak. 

Her mewling and begging was near incomprehensible. Staccato words peppered by staggering, shuddering breaths. A flushed, pinkish face glowing with sweat and fresh tears. Illario was rock hard in his pants. She turned to him again, twisting her body so she was pressed flat against his chest, her hands going to his hair and pulling the tie loose, letting his long inky locks fall around his jaw. Small hands pulled down harshly on his neck and she slammed her lips into his. 

Their kiss was a warm, desperate touching of the lips and teeth. Illario tasted her saliva, sweet from wine. When she parted to gasp in some air, she made soft noises. Her hands were comBing through his hair, her hips pressing into his, her legs moving against him. She was needy, desperate, and Illario was the cause of it all.

He felt like that memory – like Nar’cissus, the ancient elf. He felt worshiped and needed. He laughed at her wanton touches. His own hands were dragging down her waist, feeling the smallness there made more apparent by her corset. He grabbed at her ass, and she hissed against his mouth at the pain. Would the Gods smite him down, too? Not that he believed in them.

The idea of sex is stronger than the idea of Divinity. Illario knew that well. He had people shrieking for the Maker beneath him, mumbling to Avvar and Dalish gods alike – crying out for the ancestors while he fucked them into walls and beds and floors. That too was a form of worship. It was like setting a coin at the feet of Andraste. Like leaving herbs at the feet of Sylaise. Like a lopped off braid for the Lady of the Skies. Like Lyrium for the ancestors. It fed him; his powers only growing with each sacrifice. 

She kissed his lips and kissed the face of a God – of one that held her immediate pleasure in his hands.

He moved down to her neck, feeling the rough edges of her ruby necklace against his lips, then lower between her breasts. She shivered and clung to him, her feet walking backwards as he moved them towards the table. He took one breast in hand, the other arm scooped her up to sit on the hard iron surface of the counter. Marionette wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him in and kissed him again. 

Illario knew what she was feeling; the hot anticipation and lightheadedness of want. She was breathless against him, hands pawing at his clothes to feel his skin; she managed to get his leather vest undone to expose his chest before he pulled off her again and leaned her back on the table. Without asking, she pulled her knees up to her shoulders, arms hooked beneath them, and she peered down at him. 

“Are you looking?” An innocent, poised question. She smiled, her face a mess and yet still so beautiful. 

Illario fell to his knees and pressed his tongue against her clit in answer. She squealed.

He could not describe her taste; she simply tasted the way she smelt. And felt. Warm, aroused. Musky. Her clit was like a soft fleshy pearl on his tongue. He swirled it wetly, feeling her hips tremble against him. Then, with one hand, he spread her out, fingers against her vulva, and he saw into the pinkish throbbing cunt that wanted him. 

A finger slipped inside and she arched her back and cried out his name. Her voice seemed so far away that it nearly didn’t comprehend in his mind. Illario shut his eyes to it all and felt her; tasted her. Devoured her. As she had wanted. As he wanted too. He lapped at her pleasure and curled his finger inside her, adding a second to feel for the soft spot inside he knew would be her undoing.

Her hand came down between her legs to grab at his hair and direct him more urgently to her budding orgasm. He paused.

“Show me.” He wiped his mouth on her thigh. “Tell me how you want it.”

“With your tongue – again.” She swallowed. “And your fingers…” He saw her lean her head back and take a deep breath before she looked down to see him again. “I want to make a mess all over your shirt.” She smiled.

A mess? He grinned back and pressed his tongue flat against her clit before finding the spot again with the tip. His fingers were stronger inside her, spreading her out, feeling her. He found a slow deep rhythm and felt her gasp around him. 

“Do you hear that?” She asked through shuddering breaths.

His fingers curled again. Illario heard it. Like a bell chimes of the chantry – the deep wet noise of a cunt near to bursting. The sound of clear trumpets calling a soldier home. She was close, and her stiff clit and her sopping cunt agreed. 

Her moans got louder, more intense. Her jaw fell open as he continued to work her until it was just his fingers curling inside her, wrist moving up and down. She was squeezing around him; the building pressure a tingling feeling around his fingers. 

“Cum for me.” He rasped. “Good girl. Cum for me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed when she came. Her body shuddered and her legs shook and clear liquid squirted from her cunt, spraying down against Illario’s shirt. The whole table was shaking from her intensity and her hips bucked hard against the open air where his hand once was. He brought it down hard against her clit in a slap that earned another shriek of pleasure. 

His leathers were able to repel her mess easily enough. It slid down his chest and onto the grass. But the linen shirt beneath it was peppered with dark spots where the liquid made the color of the fabric damp. When he straightened up back to his feet, Marionette sat up from the table and put her hands on his shoulders. She had this sudden wild look about her. Glistening eyes, tousled hair. Her breasts moved in tandem with her heaving ribcage as she recovered from her orgasm.

 Wordlessly, she kissed him again. Hard, like before. One hand cupped the back of his head, and the other went down between his legs to cup him there. She was as hot as a burning coal. Her fingers were deft and quick. Illario pulled her hips closer and she pushed off the table to stand. She was so small against him, so hot and needy. She pulled off the kiss to look behind him and when he turned back to see what was there, he saw her skirts tossed onto the soft layer of grass. Like a blanket. And he knew. 

Laying down over her clothes, Illario extended out on his back. Marionette straddled him. Leaning over, ass in the air, she pressed herself against his chest, breasts against his sternum, hands by his head. 

Looking at her like this… Illario felt strangely at ease. His hands rubbed at her thighs as he took in her new look. Big brown eyes, streaks of dark makeup down her blushing tanned cheeks. Red lips, a softly rounded chin. Her hair spilled over her like a curtain of dark ink, covering him from the sun. He opened his mouth to say something, anything – to let a compliment spill out to break the heady silence.

Instead, Marionette leaned down and with one slow movement, lapped out her tongue and licked him. 

From chin to nose off to his right cheek, her tongue left a hot warm trail over his skin. Illario startled, his hands freezing on her thighs. His heart froze in his chest… but his cock twitched in his pants and his smile grew. She laughed when she saw his shocked face. One of her hands went back to fish him out of his trousers and she pressed his wet tip against her cunt, rubbing herself there breathlessly. 

His hips bucked involuntarily at the contact. He rubbed at her again, her stockings, her garters. He spread her cheeks and gave them a soft spank that earned a gasp of pain from Marionette, and then, with a slowness that could kill, she took him inside her. Inch by delicious inch, until she was planted firmly against his hips.

Illario’s mind went blank. His hands flexed against her skin and his eyes fluttered shut. He didn’t realize he had needed it this badly. But now that he was in her; her tight warmth, her fluttering muscles – he desperately needed more. A sling of small curses flew from his mouth as he watched her adjust herself over him. Hips swirling against his, thighs squeezing at him from his sides. She straightened up and dragged her hands up the bones of her corset to her breasts, where she grabbed each one and squeezed them, pinching at her nipples.

Her insides fluttered when she did that, and Illario groaned. 

Marionette set the pace. She leaned over and put her hands on his chest and started bouncing her hips against his. The feeling was magic – it was addicting.

This was divinity. Leastwise, it was the closest thing Illario could ever get to it. There was no other feeling like this in the world. When two bodies came together and created something new. There was power in the naked form. A power that was stronger than any mages spell or assassins poison. He knew just how far someone might go to get a glimpse at him undressed, or to feel the touch of his lips on theirs. It was worth more than any amount of gold any King or Emperor or Divine could pay.

Illario put his hands on Marionette’s hips and helped her slam herself down against him. She was moaning sweetly between them. Eyes shut, body shivering as he bucked his hips up into her warmth. The weight of her on him felt like a warm blanket, her nails were dragging down hard lines on his chest. The pain made the pleasure all the better. 

“Oh, Maker!” Marionette shrieked. She was speeding up. He felt her quivering around him. Illario felt his gut go taught. His toes curled in his boots. He bit his lip. There was no time to call out her name. There was not even a thought to pull out of her. Instead. He threw his head back, groaned, bucked his hips up hard into her, and came. 

She gave a gasping shiver. Her own body squeezed around him, throbbing and sucking him in, taking him all the way inside her as his hips gave thrust after thrust in tandem with the roping of his seed. 

He touched her breasts. They were warm and soft. He took a nipple between his fingers and rolled the hard bud to see the skin twist and react. 

“Don’t stop.” She  shook her head. She grabbed his wrist and pushed him harder against her. “Don’t ask me to stop.” Adjusting herself, she leaned back into a squat, her hands on her knees. Illario could see himself between them where his cock disappeared into her cunt. He saw his own cum leaking down around his length from inside her. He gasped.  

“So eager for more?”

“You’re still hard.” She lifted herself up and slammed herself back down again. Illario squirmed, a sweet noise slipping from his lips he had never made before.

She was right. He hadn’t gone soft after he spilled out inside her. He was still throbbing and riding the high of his first orgasm, but it seemed Marionette wanted more. Illario had never gone beyond the first climax. He had become an expert in foreplay enough so when he finished, his partner would already be too worn out to go on. But Marionette?

The wild look in her eye had not gone away. She was bouncing on him with reckless abandon, her head leaned back with eyes closed, moaning to herself. Illario ground his teeth. He was sensitive – each slap of skin and stroke inside her was like hot fire in his belly. Something was winding up tight in his chest. He grabbed her ankles to steady himself, but his groans turned to moans turned to whimpering as he strayed further and further from the edge of the known limits of his body.

It was like being in your cups – being too in your cups. Drunkenness. But this was no ordinary tipsy feeling. Illario’s hips jerked up against hers and he was struggling to maintain his cool. His hands were palming her, his speech stuttering, his breaths getting caught in his throat. She kept riding, she kept fucking him. She kept moaning and taking from him things he didn’t know he had and he fucking loved it.

His head lolled back against the soft grass. The smell of the black narcissus perfume mixed with the scent of their fucking and the freshness of the grass loomed hard above his head. His vision spotted as his pleasure mounted to a head. He did not notice his eyes closing. He could not tell the light from the dark. She was everything. 

“Illario.” She growled his name, her hands on his chest. Her magic poured from her hands in a wave of purple electric bolts that shocked him back into the present. His skin was on fire, his cock was painfully hard inside her. He wanted to cum again – he was going to come again –

He gasped, grabbed her waist and bit down hard on his lips and cried out. His hips lifted off the ground and halted her bouncing. This time, he really did shut his eyes. They squeezed closed and his teeth tore into the soft flesh of his lower lip and his cock buried itself deep in the warmth of the woman above him. He did not notice her own orgasm, thrumming against him. Nor her kisses on his neck and on his chest. Illario was gasping for air so hard it felt like he had almost drowned. 

With a hammering heart, he stared blankly above him, feeling everything and nothing. His legs were full of static and his mind was slowly, slowly coming back to him.

Where had he gone? He asked himself after a few moments passed. The Golden City? Had he left his body momentarily and touched the heavens? He swallowed thickly, suddenly in dire need for water. Marionette pulled off him and he cursed, his tip flushed and sensitive as it left her warmth.

She leaned back and showed him her cunt. A throbbing clit, his cum leaking from her folds like a divine fountain. It dribbled down to his toned stomach and on his leathers, drip by drip. Long fingers spread herself apart. 

“Illario.” She moaned with a giggle. “Look.”

“What,” He swallowed. “Did you do to me?”

“Was it too much?” She tilted her head. Her fingers found her clit and swirled on the pinkish muscle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Marionette spoke through pursed lips, as if speaking to a child. Illario did not have the capacity to comprehend nor care for her sarcastic remarks. The fact that she was still able to keep going… His eyes followed her fingers moving in slow languid circles. 

“I – no.” He cleared his throat and tried to laugh it off. “No. You didn’t.”

She leaned over to one side and crawled off him. “I didn’t?”

“I don’t scare easily.”

“You cum easily.”

“It’s like that now, huh?” He laughed. 

She wiped at her face, smearing away the mess of tears and makeup off her cheeks before pulling at her petticoats from underneath Illario. He sat up and shuffled himself back into his pants. 

“Guess I can’t compete with professionals.”

She paused in her dressing, still on her knees. With a cocked brow, she pulled her petticoat to her chest to cover herself. “You did wonderful.” She assured. “I don’t know why… but I couldn’t stop myself. You were touching me all over and looking at me with those blue eyes of yours…” She stood. “Tell me you’re staying a while.”

Illario wiped himself clean with a handkerchief from his pocket. “I was going to stay for the wine.” He sighed, shrugging. “Though now, I think I’ll stay for something.”

“Which is?”

“The view.”

[diapee-girl]

They’re actually native all over the world in remnant boreal forests! They’re pretty common in the high elevations in the blue ridge mountains which are (again, at high elevations) very similar to WA state’s climate. Very cool plant! (Source: professional plant biologist and environmental scientist)

Well thank you for educating me! It’s definitely a beautiful plant😊 I always enjoy going into nature and finding cool plants and propagating them. I won’t do that with the Indian pipe plant but still was a beaut to look at. I’m a plant lover have a nice little collection myself. So I love to find plants I haven’t seen before 😁

[corseque]

There are a few systems and complications in gardening that that I’ve never seen replicated in a farming game that might be terrible but might be really fun. Maybe I’ve never seen this because I haven’t played many farming games so give me recs if you know any but Like

scarifying/stratifying seed to increase germination

certain seeds having a higher germination rate (like lettuce)

starting seedlings inside before the change of the season

your Zone / temperature range / humidity being very important to plant care

like covering your cold-sensitive crops during a freeze

or shading them in the summer

testing soil to find out what’s wrong with it before adding corrective soil amendments. Like missing elements or bad PH

the struggles of starting a farm in sandy or clay or caliche soil lmao

no-dig (why am I tilling my soil when I could simply cover it)

propagation of plants via cuttings and runners

thinning seedlings so your plants will grow larger / thinning the fruit of fruiting trees so the fruit will be bigger

growing a 500lb pumpkin by watering it with a fire hose

being able to compost (there is a whole reddit of people who genuinely enjoy real life composting so much they talk about wanting to escape their family parties so they can go out and turn and temperature check and water their compost. If there are games about pressure washing there should be games about the surprisingly satisfying balancing act that is composting)

hydroponics (can you imagine the fine-tuning and satisfying automation)

birds eating your seedlings like the most delicious microgreens unless you cover them

Planting stuff for and harvesting stuff on the day to run a farmer’s market stand on Saturday morning

cover crops!!!!!

watering methods like olla or drip irrigation

this is all probably too much for a farm game but can you imagine being able to make compost… /r/composting would go wild

I keep thinking about this because every day I go out to my garden in real life and I get that excited feeling at seeing All The Changes that I only got from like Stardew Valley before.

[mixotrophics]

Recently, a copy of Alpines & Bog Plants by Reginald Farrer fell into my hands (thank you, antiquarian bookseller). At first I thought it would be botany but it is actually a mix of hobbyist naturalist & horticultural anecdotes.

It’s a first edition, published in 1908 -- remarkably well kept, pretty obvious spotting & foxing and one plate appears to be detaching from the spine. The book is remarkably poetic, but it would be free verse with binomial nomenclature, which I haven’t seen before,

The dedication is an excerpt from Hippolytus by Eurypides, roughly (according to my friend who studies classics): “For you, lady, I bring this plaited garland I have made, gathered from an inviolate meadow, a place where the shepherd does not dare to pasture his flocks (except rabbits), where the iron scythe has never come;” In Hippolytus this is spoken to Artemis, but in this case the dedication is to Farrier’s mother which is heartwarming :) Here I will note that the idea of “nature” as something undisturbed (ungrazed, unharvested) is central to the colonial conceptualisation of ecology and has contributed to the forceful removal of indigenous peoples from their land (and the subsequent loss of biodiversity, as humans are not separate from nature and we can play an important role in ecosystems) Not calling Eurypides or this book inherently bad/colonial (more on the book & colonialism later) but this idea is def present in modern ecology and colonialism and important to highlight when present.

The book is full of black&white photographic plates which have held up really well for being over a century old. The plates themselves are beautiful:

The photographs were taken in Farrer’s own garden. Little snapshots of the past :)!!

The text content of the book is quite intriguing and not all good, definitely carries heavy cultural baggage as does modern Western biology in general. I will preface this by saying I have absolutely not battled my way through this book, but I have read sections. there is a definite 1900s-Englishman tone in all the ways that can mean. part of that is most certainly a degree of both xenophobia and orientalism. When venerating the beauty of the wilderness and of Japanese/Chinese garden design, there is obvious othering in the language used & Farrer is dismayed at the effects of cultural transmission (this is most notably in European gardens attempting to mimic the artistic style of east Asian gardens but using the “wrong” plants, usually European plants rather than importing non-native varieties that are more “authentic”). Farrer was deeply in love with Asian biota and was notable for collecting plants to bring back to Europe, and while I cannot speak on Farrer’s techniques specifically, such practices are deeply intwined in racism and colonialism. In many cases, economic systems & resulting hardships forced on other cultures by Europeans allowed them to exert control over certain groups, stripping them of agency and employing them to extirpate “uncooperative” groups. I haven’t found anything re:Farrer in this context but it is essential to place the entire book within this context!!

However the majority of the book is Farrer describing gardening as well as his travels to collect plants for propagation in the UK (notably he died while on one such plant-collection travel). Apparently (& corroborated by the preface) the plants he searched for were ones that would grow well in the UK w/o much care, to make having a cool garden more accessible regardless of income. so if a plant needed extensive care and things like hothouses, it was not his priority.

The way he describes plants is vaguely anthropomorphised in a generally appealing way, trying to make the reader appreciate the plant for things such as hardiness and robustness, which I suppose would align w/ the idea of making gardening easier. also in the sense that the robustness is tied in with beauty as well, as these features are of course not opposed to one another.

I may snoop through this book further to see anything else , we will see.

[croissantbae]

March 6, 2024

1. Yday was a have it all day. I worked frenetically and yet I had a break around 4 so I decided to jump on the peloton and get a 20 min workout in. Then showered. Then cooked dinner. Shiloh and christine came over. Threw the kids in the bath then did more work. Then went to sleep w them at 10.

2. I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to check Redfin or my plants obsessively. Tonight before going to sleep I checked in on my propagations and the water one is doing well and I think one of the ones in stratum is growing a new leaf?????? I was shocked to see some growth today. Insane. Makes me so happy.

[poppyseedgirly]

things i wrote in november:

something poppet taught me today

we are brave for the things we love

as she stayed downstairs most of the day for turkey smell in the oven and she never comes downstairs during the day..

waiting for her favorite food

we are brave for the things we love

something time and time again

when you do something scary for yourself

for someone else, for something else

knowing it’s for the better for the good

for the love

we are brave for the things we love

they ask me if i’m doing okay multiple times

and it always makes me question

well i don’t know, maybe not

i crawl out of bed

feed poppet and

reset the heating blanket for her

and then walk in the morning cold

breakfast with sky and leo

diner coffee hits the spot

and i eat about half of my meal

styrofoam box and i carve a heart into it

i walk in front of them and look up

at the leaves turning above me

and listen to them talk

i dreamt everything was okay

i think about Dealing With Hard Things

this year has shown me a lot about that

but also in how i’ve been doing

that for a long time

i tell sky i’m doing a lot better now

as i organize legos in to matching piles for them and she smiles and says that’s good

i do believe it’s true

but i’m still learning

and i’m tired

and i don’t make art like i used to

and that’s okay

most things aren’t like they used to be

but we know it’s for the better

most things will always change

i look up at the cobweb hanging in the shower

i look up at the large sky light windows in the grocery store i work at

i can see the clouds some days

and i yearn for something

i want to swing on a swing set

i want to walk really really far in the cold

i want to sit on a cold beach alone

i want to feel better and to stop coughing

i can’t stop smelling my hands

i think i’ve been in my head these days

my mom can tell

does my insurance need renewed

i need to file my nails they are getting to long

i feel like i’m in a movie sometimes

do you ever feel like that

darling honey sweetheart are

all names people called me at work yesterday

i went along with it

because i’m like yes that’s who i am

but you also have no idea who i am

you have no idea

to share your heart is a very raw thing

to know one’s heart is just as

mar reminds me it’s winter

and it’s still the first year

these do comfort me.. explains much

a full moon tomorrow in gemini

my period is ending

something pivotal is happening

and i can’t quite explain yet

but i feel it

maybe it’s just the growth

maybe it’s a new response to things

i think it’s time to fall asleep to gossip girl

i’ve stared at my phone too much today

hugs goodbye with a little squeeze

a text to bring a mug for hot chocolate tomorrow

today liv showed me how to tier propagate a babys tear plant and spiral the nodes into the dirt, i took some clippings home

i’m hoping to take care of them

i haven’t really eaten today

am i really taking care of myself less

sleeping less but also sleeping a lot

there is a tenderness and care when touching and dealing with a plant

she asks me questions of my past plants

and all i can think about

is what you taught me

and what i can even remember

and the plants i left behind

that were never fully yours

and never fully mine

i help string up lights

and i hold the cord up high

it reminds me of helping build things

i say i’m a real good finder of stuff

qualities that feel right about myself

we talk about what’s next

we talk about intrusive thoughts

sometimes when people stand too

close to me i think about kissing them even though i know i’d never kiss them

i don’t know what it means

a cobweb hangs above me in the shower

i think about the worms in wisconsin

i dream about forgiveness

about something

about goodbyes

i get out of bed before noon on my day off

i sleep extra long in these phases

i paint my nails

because i deserve it

i ask my mom if she’d want to see a movie

i remember wanting to write about something while in the shower

but i can’t remember what it was now

i order myself new glasses because my favorite frames are on sale

i thought about reinventing myself this year through my glasses but the truth is i love the ones i have, so i got them again

every year when the weather gets cold

and i get a cold, my cough returns

and it takes me weeks to heal

i hate being sick, but at least it’s not ridden with anxiety right now too

i think about that feeling

of standing in the door way that day you came home from work

if i’m seeming angrier these days it’s because i am

but as you feel things and let them go

you also feel new things

like when i’m doing go backs at work

and every time i place an item where it’s meant on a shelf i find a new item that’s misplaced and my cart keeps filling up

it’s always a good feeling when i empty that shopping cart though

how many exclamation marks should i use

someone said my nails were like claws

and i agreed

i need to protect myself

but i feel like cracking open like an egg

shells shells shells

should i start a new tamagotchi egg

the one i let die after last christmas

i eat the banana bread slice warmed

in the microwave

bitter butter

my favorite sound is a cat licking it’s fur

i will stop all things to hear this sound

it’s 7pm on thanksgiving evening

the moon is out

and my shoes click on the sidewalk

my eyes are heavy and i miss something

that i can’t quite place

my mom asks me to choose

cinnamon or pumpkin spice

and i say cinnamon

[montaguethelorekeeper]

This is a travesty @lonelywretchjervistetch.

I expected better of you than to promote such blatant cultural erasure. The Middle Finger or Digitus Medietus is so much more than a featherless bird.

Originating in Greece, the Middle Finger maintained a modest but steady population within its native coastal habitat for millennia before prominent western artists of the 1800’s took notice and began showing the bird off at public events. Overnight, the Middle Finger’s popularity exploded across the Western Hemisphere, quickly jumping the Atlantic to the Americas where the species gained instant recognition.

While profoundly successful, the Middle Finger has proven not to be a dangerous invasive species, but one that has fit nicely into every ecosystem it’s been introduced to. Any hypothetical damage the harmless little bird could do is vastly overshadowed by humanities effects on the environment anyways. As you will almost never see Middle Fingers far from human habitation do to their long-standing domestication. A Middle Finger separated from human care NEVER survives to propagate in the wild.

Furthermore, do to the Middle Fingers domestication, the birds diet entirely consists of grease, salt and the occasional condiments. Historically, it is believed the Middle Fingers domestication began as a symbiotic relationship with humans in which the bird would dislodge dandruff, small pests and nasal obstructions for the humans that would in turn provide food and protection.

Today, Middle Fingers can be found across the globe! But nowhere is the bird more prolific than in New Jersey. Sure, New York City might have a higher population density BUT you need to think of how many of those birds permanently nest elsewhere and only pass through out of necessity. And you know where you’ll see the most frequent spotting of the Middle Finger? Why it’s on the Turnpike! The noxious fumes from the industrial waste plants nearby has a massive effect on the Middle Fingers breeding season, making it an extremely common sight in the area.

All this talk of ecology and I haven’t even touched on the Middle Fingers cultural significance. I think everyone remembers the first time someone “Flipped them the Bird”. It invokes emotion, memory and the urge to flip your own bird right back at them.

Tattooed, bejeweled, beige, brown and black. The Middle Finger can have a vastly wide array of appearances, their lack of feathers highlighting scars and callouses, each body tells a story that runs parallel to the humans that flip them.

What does the Middle Finger mean to me?

Fuck you.

The State Bird Initiative: New Jersey (#3) - Results

Another week, another poll! And this one...this one had the results in super fast. So, we're gonna get right into it, as well as the personal choices by the SBI. But OK, which species does Tumblr think should be the State Bird of New Jersey?

Which of the following should be the state bird of New Jersey, the Garden State?

Look...I'd be lying if I said I didn't vote for that one, too.

SBI Elected State Bird of New Jersey: Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla)

The American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis) has been replaced by popular vote by the Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla) in the latest polls! And there's a part of me that wonders if this is for the meme...and there's a part of me that thinks this actually makes sense.

Read the original post here if you want my rationale, but...yeah, I stand by this being a good choice. NJ is a coastal state with a long coastline and a strong beach culture, to the point where "the Shore" is a recognized area in the state with an international reputation. And yes, while other shorebirds could be associated with the state, the Laughing Gull is essentially the only one whose breeding population heavily depends on its Jersey population. Plus, it's a recognizable and iconic bird with a known presence, and could easily be associated with the state it's been selected for. I can dig it. Just sayin'. And yeah, this is the bird chosen as a personal choice by the SBI as well. If you'd like to see the other personal choices from the SBI, stick around after the jump! And if this is all you were waiting for, then no worries! Check out Georgia's entry and give it a vote while you can!

The State Birds Initiative Personal Pick - New Jersey (#3)

State Game Bird of New Jersey (SBI): Brant (Branta bernicla)

Wait...WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? I never brought this bird up as a contender for State Bird? So, what is it doing here? Well, I never brought this guy up for State Bird because they don't breed in New Jersey, and honestly couldn't come up with a solid argument for it to be in that position. However, it was always a contender for State Game Bird, because New Jersey is home to the largest population of this goose, the Brant (Branta bernicla), on the eastern coast, with other concentrations being in Virginia and Rhode Island. But they'll get different birds for this category.

Now, time to talk further about what a State Game Bird is. Game birds are not a single taxonomic classification; rather, they're a sociological one. These are birds prioritized for hunting, usually for culinary purposes, if not just for sport. While they come from a few taxa, the vast majority of game birds belong to orders Galliformes (chickens, pheasants, quail, etc.) and Anseriformes (ducks and geese). The Brant represents our first member of the latter in this category! New jersey is known for its Brant hunting, and the state has major regulations during its Brant hunting season for conservation purposes. I could've put the Snow Goose (Cher caerulenscens) here as well, since New Jersey actually prioritizes hunting of this overpopulated bird...but the purpose of this is to promote birds of conservation interest that have a significant role in the state, and the Brant fits this a lot better than the Snow Goose. With that, let's move on!

State Raptor of New Jersey (SBI): Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)

The Gray Ghost wins the category of State Raptor of New Jersey! This one, of course, I put in the original post and poll, and it unfortunately didn't get far at all. Not sure why, since it's the logo for the New Jersey Audubon Society, it represents a major ecosystem in the state, and it's generally a pretty cool bird. But, hey, that's the price of democracy. Either way, the Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus) is a charismatic raptor of conservation concern, and a generally pretty neat bird all around. Check out the original post for more details on this guy, but for now, we'll move on!

SBI's Big Fifty - New Jersey: Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta)

So, in my original post, I mentioned that the Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta) wasn't a great fit for State Bird due to its similarity to other sparrows, and that would be difficult for the average citizen to parse out. A sparrow is a sparrow is a sparrow, right? Well, not to birders it ain't! This is a pretty big bird for any birder's life list, mine included, making it an important focus for that community. So, in order to give the sparrow its day in court, the Saltmarsh Sparrow wins the prize for New Jersey's representative in SBI's Big Fifty, adding it to the countrywide scavenger hunt that this list represents. Sorry, Massachusetts, I know you could've had this one, too. I'll give you a neat one, I promise.

State Conservation Focus of New Jersey (SBI): Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus)

OK, so, the Conservation Focus of New Jersey is sort of disingenuous in this entry, since the bird is far less of a focus than its habitat, but I'll use it as the symbol of the habitat. The Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus) is an accessible symbol for the average person to see when going to the ecologically significant (and always in danger) New Jersey Pine Barrens, also representing a larger community of birds with which it tends to be geographically associated. But more than that, the real symbol of the Pine Barrens isn't quite as accessible. For that reason, there really should be two focuses for the Pine Barrens, one for bird people, and one for ecologists. And if you know anything about the New Jersey Pine Barrens, I think you know what the other symbol is.

Now, to be fair, the Pine Barrens Tree Frog (Dryophytes andersonii) is, despite the name, not endemic to the New Jersey Pine Barrens. Instead, it can be found in the Carolinas and the Florida Panhandle, all in isolated areas and...well, pine barrens. But, its populations are decreasing in size, with the Georgia population already extirpated, and is a species of conservation concern. Frogs are, of course, less easy to spot than birds, especially nocturnal ones like the tree frog. So, it's not a great public symbol of the forests as a result, but is still an important inhabitant of the New Jersey Pine Barrens. So, consider this another conservation focus endorsed by SBI. And for the record, it's actually the state frog of North Carolina, so it hasn't been completely shafted!

And with that, we've reached the end of the personal choices by the SBI for ornithological state representatives! Be sure to check out the Georgia poll currently running; still a day or two for votes to be counted!

See you next time, and happy birding!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Herb Garden Day 41 - Progress

It’s been awhile since I’ve shown off the progress of my indoor herb and vegetable garden project. So, here we go, starting with the kitchen:

The six unlabelled pots on the right are sprouting potatoes (leftovers from ones I bought but couldn’t finish the bag before they started sprouting). These are actually starting to reach for the sun now, hence having moved them to the spot that gets the best sun on the windowsill. Those spring onions were planted from the leftovers of some spring onions I bought for a pasta bake recipe, and I can just snip off bits as I like. The carrots and beetroot haven’t done much yet but I did only plant them on Sunday.

Anyway: windows in the study:

From right to left: cucumber sprouting in the pot over there, mint going insane next to it, then the basil I haven’t repotted yet and oregano waiting to sprout in the empty propagator pots, dill getting really big with some life seen in the strawberry and rosemary pots either side (just really tiny so far), and my one lone lemon balm plant (the lavender’s being recalcitrant).

From right to left: parsley aggressively needs repotting (which I’ll do after I’ve cut some for parsley sauce tonight), chives looking all the better for the haircut I gave them Wednesday (sent some coriander and some chives to my mother), the rehomed basil, and some garlic I’m trying to get to sprout (again, that’s only since Sunday so I’m not expecting any real life from most of the big stuff yet).

Anyway, bedroom!

From right to left - peas, courgette (zucchini to some of you heathens), tomato, cherry tomato, onion, sweet pepper, lettuce which also aggressively needs repotting because it’s starting to smother the other strawberry seedlings in there, and cayenne peppers. Not the most exciting thing to look at yet, but give it time.

From right to left - coriander and spinach. The coriander bounced back from the cold snap two weeks ago, as you can see, and its haircut the other day has done it nothing but good. The spinach also got a bit of a trim and that’s just enhanced growth so I think there’s going to be more spinach with dinner soon.

So there you go! That’s how the project’s going so far. Spiffy, no?

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

[five-rivers]

Moon

A continuation of Flowers.

.

.

.

"Alright," said Maddie, flipping through her notes, "alright. We have to figure out how to get the graveflower out of the portal, or-"

"Kaboom," said Jack, who was still fiddling with the simulation. "We need to keep them out of the ecto-filtrator lines at least." He paused. "Maybe we should shut it down."

"But then it could escape," said Maddie. "Or grow, or shrink, or start pulling things in. Like last time. Keeping our stabilizers on is the only way to control its characteristics."

"But it would be easier to deal with that than blowing up," said Jack. "We might not have much warning if those things damage something vital."

Maddie drummed her fingers on the table. "Maybe we should evacuate," she said. "Send the kids to sleep over with friends, call up Vlad, ask him to get people out of the blast radius."

"I don't think we're quite there, yet, Maddie," said Jack.

"No, but if we haven't solved this by the end of the day, I think we should look into it. I just don't understand how it could be growing there. It can't just be the ectoplasm!" They had almost perfectly replicated the atmosphere inside the portal in one of several small containment devices and put in graveflower seeds. They had yet to react. "This shouldn't have happened."

Except that it had. Could the portal function as a 'grave site' somehow? It was at the cusp between the world of the living and the world of the dead. But, no, that didn't make any sense. If the seeds solely grew on the residual interdimensional connection between a ghost and places associated with their death, then they should have more than enough of a connection out here, in the lab, where Jack and Maddie had made hundreds of temporary portals while testing the Fenton Bazooka. There had to be something else about graves and places of death that the portal had.

But she didn't have time to go looking for what it was, because she was trying to keep the blasted plant from blowing up the portal and leveling the entire city block. It was infuriating.

She half wanted to just wade in there with clippers, but she knew how vegetative propagation worked. If they missed anything, it might just start growing again, and, being a ghost plant, it might have other defenses. Even taking that one cutting had been something of a risk, though she hadn't quite realized it at the time.

It would have been one thing to study the graveflower in the lab, or out in a graveyard, but in the portal?

She ran her finger down her notes, the boiled-down and bullet-pointed version of the graveflower legends. That they only bloomed in moonlight, or in the presence of the ghost their growing place belonged to; that they made the ghost glow like the moon in their presence; that they grew faster in the presence of their ghost; that a fruit from them could bring a man back from death's door, for a time; that they made ghosts drowsy; that the ghost who spawned them could control them. None of it was particularly useful.

The door at the top of the stairs opened. "Hey, Mom? Dad?" Danny started walking down they stairs, footsteps feather light. Maddie didn't know how he did it. When anyone else walked on them, those stairs clanged. "You guys have been down here for a while, and I just wanted to check on you. Also, um, should we order out for dinner?"

"Er," said Jack, "have we been down here that long?"

"Yeah. All day, really." He scratched the back of his head, nervously.

"Sorry, sweetie," said Maddie. "Some problems came up that we have to take care of. Why don't you and Jazz order some pizza, okay?"

"Yeah," said Danny, looking over at her. His gaze wandered to her right, and he stepped closer. "Oh, you got one to bloom. Which one is that?"

Maddie followed his gaze. They hadn't-

But there they were. The cutting she had taken earlier now hung with open, bell-shaped blossoms. They glowed, like moonlight.

They hadn't been open before. They shouldn't be open now. There was no reason for them to bloom, except...

She turned back to Danny, slowly. The soft glow of the flowers was mirrored on his skin. He didn't appear to have noticed.

"Mom? Are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting together. "What went wrong, anyway? You were working on plants, right?"

He didn't know. He didn't-

In a daze, Maddie turned to the portal. It had to be the portal. The portal had killed Danny. They had thought he'd just gotten a little shock- They'd been so happy to see the portal working, they didn't ask questions. But that would explain everything. Even his falling grades! Of course, as a ghost he wouldn't be able to keep up, wouldn't be able to learn new things. Except- that didn't quite seem to be true, did it?

"Mom?" repeated Danny.

He was a ghost. A ghost, and he didn't know. He couldn't know. He was too peaceful. Too- Too Danny. The imprint Danny had left must be overriding the ghost's natural inclination to violence, keeping it repeating his daily routine.

What kind of a parent was she, that she hadn't even noticed that her own child had died?

She could see Jacke behind Danny- behind Danny's ghost. He, too, had realized. She could see it on his face.

Their son was dead.

The lab shook, all the beakers and tools rattling. A few screws worked their way out of a wall panel. Something out of sight broke with a tinkle.

Out of the portal inched a pale vine, snaking around the top of the portal, reaching towards the ceiling. The surface of the portal bubbled and roiled.

Almost as an afterthought, the alarms started going off.

.

To be continued on day 10: Corruption.

[dearmrsawyer]

well IT WAS A YEAR. it was also emotionally two weeks and five years? lol. its been a lot, but there were some real positives from this year that i wanna reflect on just because! they’re nice to think about!!

i’d love to know if any of you have any positive things from your year that you’d like to reflect on. accepting asks where we can celebrate your little wins too :)

in general i’m just quite proud of myself for how i’ve managed the library this year, given that its just me. its been hard feeling more disconnected from our students, and also trying to provide them with support that can reach across the void created by distance learning. it wasn’t 100% successful all the time! but it can’t be, and i never aimed for that. i just did everything that i felt i could reasonably do as a single individual, and i think i did my best! i spent a lot of this year driving out to post books to our students, or meeting them at convenient locations to do book swaps, and i’ve spent a lot of time coaching academics through online systems over zoom so that they could effectively teach their subjects, and i’ve spent a lot of nights and weekends prepping materials that needed to be made available to students ahead of class, because our academic staff weren’t able to finish them while i was still on the clock (i’m def not trying to @ our academics here! they’ve been delivering material late all year bc of how much extra work they’ve had to take on too! its just the roll on effect bc i’m the last link in the chain). i’ve felt a huge sense of camaraderie with many of my colleagues this year, and am grateful i had them to make this work year more manageable. but i know i’ve been doing a lot of hidden work and i think i did well :)

oh man i loved turning off my wake up alarm in march and never turning it on again!!!! I think i can count the number of times i’ve had to use my alarm on one hand, and they were mostly dr appointments. it feels so comfortable to wake up when my body decides, whether its 6am or after i should already be working LOL. there have definitely been ebbs and flows to how well i’ve slept throughout the year, sometimes i know exactly what’s affecting my sleep and sometimes i have no idea, but regardless, the absence of an impending alarm has been such a nice way to compensate for.. everything else lol

i started growing vegetables!!!!!! I spent a week in March digging out a patch of my yard, and then the next month or two growing seedlings, and i successfully grew snow peas, silverbeet, beetroot and lettuce :D i also added dill to my herb garden, and successfully propagated thyme and lemongrass! i did attempt a few other vegetables that didn’t pan out, mostly because snails kept eating my seedlings jkjdgkj but it was so exciting to successfully grow something that i could then EAT! and i’ve also been able to figure out which vegetables i consider more convenient to grow, for example buying leafy greens can be super inconvenient bc i find its often impossible to use them all before they go bad. they sell greens in such ridiculously large bunches! but growing them myself, i can go out and pick however many leaves i want, and the rest won’t go bad because they’re still on the plant! i also started to stagger how many seeds i wanted to grow which meant they weren’t all maturing at the same time, and i didn’t need to use them all at the same time. 

Supernatural finished this year which was NOT a highlight 😭 but it was originally scheduled to finish in May, and i was given the gift of 6 whole extra months to live with this show as a work in progress. as much as i still wasn’t ready to say goodbye in November (would i have ever been ready), i was given so much unexpected extra time to appreciate being IN it while it was still going. i spent so much of this year reflecting on how big a part of my life this show has been, and how much its given me and shaped me. from the ages of 14 to 29 i was able to live with this show as a close friend, and i’ve never taken that for granted, but i am so thankful for the extra time i was given to reflect and appreciate it even more deeply. also supplementary highlight is how much that ending meant to me <3 the world can think whatever it wants but i was on that journey for 15 years, i was there for every episode, never falling behind or taking a break, and that ending honoured the story i watched, and i am very grateful that the pain of it ending was cushioned by the sense of peace and fulfilment that ending gave me. 

i finally found hair products that WORK!!!!! i’ve had the same hair routine for like a decade (basically sans products) and i thought i should use this extended period of time where i exist unobserved to experiment. i’ve never really bought hair products for myself, i’ve always inherited them from my mum bc she always had a surplus of products she’s collected over the years. our hair couldn’t be more different so i’ve never experienced a product that was particularly effective LOL. i have v dry hair that’s naturally curly/wavy but extremely frizzy, and i have soo much of it!! so many hairs on my head! my mission was to find a way to let it dry naturally without all that frizz popping up, and without having to dry it in two big twists. the only products directed at curly hair that i’ve ever been aware of is mousse, which used to give people that crunchy look that i can’t staaaaaand but i’ve spent a few months buying quite a lot of products and testing them out one after another, and i’ve found a couple that i absolutely LOVE!! this is big for me bc i always structured my week around when i wash my hair (the day of and day after i’m unavailable lol). i’ll still have to structure my time around it somewhat bc it takes so so long to dry, but its going to be less of a drama if i have to do things when its not completely dry yet, and also i just feel like i’m finally getting to let my hair do its own thing without it stabbing me in the back 😂

i think that human connection has probably been more important this year than ever before, and i’ve often felt like maintaining connections requires energy i just haven’t had for a lot of this year. but i also feel like i have been very connected? i feel like i put in the work. my best friend and i shared a few phone calls this year even though neither of us have ever really been big on phone calls (neither of us have ever talked with people on the phone much in our lives lol). i’ve skyped with my Norwegian friend Ellen almost every month this year!! my friend Bel and i started exchanging sporadic voice messages again, which i’ve just loved. i’ve video chatted with Steph even though it was a scary new venture! and it was so amazing! i do feel like i’ve had less interaction with people on my dash this year, but i feel like working from home has changed the ebbs and flows of my energy throughout the day sooo much, and i just haven’t been online as much when other people are, but i’ve spent a lot of time connecting with people over whatsapp! when it comes to family, being around my grandparents was really really stressful for the first half of the year, but as the situation in Australia eased we relaxed enough that we were comfortable to spend time with them without our masks (plus we weren’t seeing anyone else lol). and i was able to make myself available to them more often while working from home, since i live only a minute away! we stopped having our big family lunches until September, and when we were finally able to get back together we enjoyed each other’s company so much. so while i haven’t been face to face with people on a daily basis, i don’t think i’m any less connected to the people that matter than i was a year ago.

[noodlesarecheese]

Okay okay so this is going to be a little stream of consciousness, and I’m more than half expecting most or all of this to be wrong, but I’m connecting all sorts of dots (some of which have already been connected by other people but some I haven’t seen).

Ok so starting with the book at the beginning of Eclipse Lake, I know the prevalent theory is that Hunter is a clone of Belos, because he has the eyes, and Belos is a grimwalker because he eats palismen, but I think they’re both clones of the same person, or at least Belos’s body is a clone. Belos jumps from clone to clone, and probably the eye color changes when his spirit inhabits the new clone. (Side note if this is true than the whole “our whole family is powerless, wild magic made us this way” deal is kind of a cheeky nod to the process that LITERALLY makes them)

Part of why I think this is that one of the ingredients listed on the page is bone of ortet. You might assume that ortet is a monster or creature, but ortet is actually a (kinda weird) plant term. When you propagate a plant, the original plant that you take the cutting from is the ortet (usually called the parent plant because using ortet in casual conversation makes you sound pretentious). So, in this case, bone of ortet means bone from the person you’re cloning (interesting that it’s bone specifically but I’m a plant nerd not a medical nerd so someone else can talk about that). 

“but they’re on different pages” yeah but the next page isn’t the start of a new chapter. It seems to me like they’re probably both in the same chapter titled “grimwalker clones and how to make them for your evil empire” or whatever, where the first part details the process, the biology of a clone, the theory behind it, and then a list of ingredients. 

So then who are they clones of? The obvious answer is Philip, because Belos is british and wants to go back to the human realm. But, of course, we’ve seen their ears, and those are witch ears. There’s one option, that Philip body swapped with a witch before the cloning began, but I don’t see any real narrative connection there and I’m all about narrative connections.

Consider, if you will, another option. Phillip loves the boiling isles, he settles down. Maybe he marries a witch, maybe they have kids. Maybe he takes these kids to visit the human realm, where he’s from, but raises them mostly on the boiling isles. Then something happens to one of his kids, his son Belos, perhaps. And Phillip clones a new body for him. Then one day Phillip disappears, either he dies or he goes into the human realm and doesn’t return, who knows (I suspect we’ll find that out at some point).

Now, I said kids plural. I know a lot of people think Eda and Hunter are related somehow. Think about this, the portal ended up in the backyard of the Clawthorne residence, near what looked to me like the entrance to an old family cemetery. And the knowledge that there used to be another human in bonesboro doesn’t seem to be super common knowledge, or else surely someone would have mentioned it to Luz previously. But it’s known to Gwyn, who talks about it almost like it’s a story that’s been passed down familialy. 

That’s right, I think one of Phillip’s kids is Eda’s ancestor. After so many generations, all trace of human blood would probably be gone, so naturally Eda and her family are just witches, while Belos and his line of clones are still half-witch half-human.

As for why Belos wants to go to the human realm, who knows. Maybe after so many years of cloning he’s lost his grip on time and wants to look for his dad. Maybe after cloning clones over and over the process is failing, and he just wants to relive some happy childhood memories, although that doesn’t seem ominous enough for his methods. Who knows.

[gutterclan]

Sanctuary Pack Stories: The Herbalist [Part Four]

[The last part of this story!Eight and Dace finally find the expert herbalist they’ve been looking for, and ask him to help cure the illness that’s been ravaging The Sanctuary Pack]

In the cramped, low space of the den, the bear's bulk is only magnified; Dace is glad he went down first. She's not sure they could have squeezed past him to get out again, if he were sitting by the exit.

It’s a strange place; the roof a tangle of gnarled roots, many hung with drying plants, and the air is thick with the smell of them. Heady, almost overpowering. Strange piles of-- things, lay up against the walls; the skins of dead animals, bones, feathers, pinecones, seashells. Dace tries not to look too closely.

The Bear, of course, notices nothing unusual about his own den, and trundles his way straight back to start scraping at his herbs without another word. 

Eight peers around his shoulder as best she can without getting any closer, and Dace watches her with a kind of helpless fondness. Ever the herbalist.

The bear maybe senses Eight's curiosity; he turns and says- through a mouthful of leaves- "Keeps me awake, right? Hibernating time, I'd go right to sleep otherwise! I'll send you home with a clipping, you’ll propagate the stuff yourself. Yes, that’ll be nice.”

The bear doesn't seem to need a reply. He turns back to his work, humming a little; a deep, resonant sound, in the immense barrel of his chest.

Eight gives Dace a sideways look, ears twitching in amusement, and Dace feels her tail tap, once, involuntary. 

It's easier to be entertained by the bear here, with his back turned. If anything happens, the low ceiling will hamper the bear more than them, and they're closer to the exit than he is. Dace is pretty sure she could get both Eight and herself out before he'd catch them. And on flat ground like the prairie there's no question they could outrun him, once they were free of the den. Even tired, a wolf can outdistance a bear.

So she lets herself relax, a little, and enjoy the warmth of the den-- with all three of them packed in, their body heat makes it practically cozy, and it's good to rest for a second, after their long march.

At last, the bear turns, and Dace ducks her head again, submissively. Eight follows her lead.

"Well, none of that," the bear says. "No time to waste. Which one of you is the healer?"

A brief pause. And then--

"I am." Eight's voice comes out soft.

The bear nods his great, broad head, and reaches forward to sniff her.

Eight flinches back a little, and Dace half-rises, heart hammering-- although what she could actually do if the bear chose to attack Eight directly, she has no idea. Distract him? Buy time for her to get away? Her instincts pay no attention to the impossibility of fighting-- her blood goes hot, and saliva floods her mouth to wet down her teeth.

But the bear only pulls back after a moment, nodding to himself. "Yes, you smell like it indeed! Carrionflower, I think? Yes.” He doesn’t pause long enough for Eight to answer. ”Well, and what's wrong then?"

Eight hesitates-- but only for a second. "We're-- not quite sure? Sir. I've never seen- and my mentor never taught me about it, either- so I don't know what it is."

The bear snorts; a waft of hot breath, smelling of herbs and meat. "Well, are you a healer or aren't you? Haven't you tried anything?"

Eight straightens. "Yes, of course!" She sounds almost indignant. "Goldenseal and Kava for their coughing, and it helps a little, but they don't get better. Bed rest, food, water, and I dose them with pineapple leaf when I can get it, too, which is rarely.”

She rattles off the list with growing confidence, voice firm and clear, and Dace has to stop her tail from wagging. When did you get so rotting smart? 

The bear nods. "Good, Good. A cough then? Other symptoms?"

"Hardened pawpads and nose, fatigue, fever, loss of appetite, and then they sort of-- waste away." Her voice only wavers on the last point, and Dace can't blame her. 

Dane lost, Seven sick, and who knew who else, since they'd left?

"Yes." The bear has gone very serious, sitting back and frowning deeply. "And it's contagious?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Distemper, I think. Nasty, but it's treatable." The bear pauses for a long moment, his deep, whistling breaths the only sound.

Eight looks at Dace, uncertain, and Dace nods at her. Well done, she wants to add, but holds her tongue.

The bear speaks, at last, picking up as if he hadn't gone silent at all. "And do you know to craft medicines, or just give the raw plant?"

"Both, depending on the need." Eight pauses. "Is that-- alright? Should I not--"

"No, no, that's all well." The bear waves a paw in dismissal, and Dace has to stop herself from backing away-- even an incidental swipe from those massive claws could kill a wolf, or at least maim one. "This one, you will have to craft-- stew it in water, equal parts Mullein and Goldenseal, half as much Guaiacum."

"We have no Guaiacum."

"Hm. I will send you with some. I don't suppose you live anywhere tropical?"

"No, we’re-- no. Up in the mountains."

The bear huffs. "Well, you won't be able to grow more, then, and a shame, because it is very tasty on venison." He shrugs. "Well, you know where to find me-- and the birds are sometimes good for it, if you ask them before they migrate. I don't suppose you speak with birds very much?"

Eight looks at Dace, lost.

"We eat them, mostly, sir." Dace says. "So they avoid us."

But it's an idea. Dace wonders if they couldn't leave some seed out, in the spring, and make a truce-- the migratory birds surely have a better sense of the land then they do, and they could bring all sorts of things back, and-- Dace cuts the thought off, frowning. 

Of course, she won't be with the pack, by spring. A brief pain in her chest, something like a phantom limb-- she hasn’t managed to shake the instinct, all these long months as a loner, to think first of the pack.

The bear shrugs. “Well enough, well enough. A thought for later, then. I will get your bundles, never fear."

And he turns from them, without another word, and sets to his herbs.

After a moment Eight pads up next to him to watch, and the bear sidles over to make space, giving instructions in his low, rumbling voice.

Dace watches them- watches Eight, truthfully. She is very confident at her work, asking questions Dace wouldn't even think of, let alone know the answer to.

With no one looking at her, Dace lets herself feel- just for a second- that horrible, looming grief that's been biting at her heels all this long journey, like a wolf after a wounded buck, harrying.

It might be the last time she sees Eight at her work.

 Dace has a brief, bright flash of memory-- Eight gangly with adolescence, trotting after Saturn to go foraging in the bright, warm sun of early autumn. The smell of herbs on her fur when she returned, bursting with new knowledge. Talking into the night about their training until the other adolescents got up to tell them off, for keeping everyone awake.

Dace's head droops. She should try and enjoy the time she has left, she knows. But their imminent parting looms, and just for now- just for a second- she lets herself mope.

When Eight turns back with her mouth full of hides- the precious herbs bundled safely within- Dace has straightened up again, and can speak without her voice going all gloomy. "Ready to go?"

"Yesh," Eight says, muffled by the bundle, and drops it, ears flattening back, embarrassed. Dace's chest gives a helpless squeeze.

"Yes," Eight says, more clearly, and turns to the bear. "Thank you very much!"

"Yes," the bear says, and yawns enormously, teeth flashing. "Glad to help. I will take a nap, now."

And he turns without another word, curling up to sleep.

Eight looks at him, for a second, and then shrugs at Dace. Dace shakes her head. No explaining bears, really. She crouches to pick up the bundle.

"Oh-- thanks!" Eight steps back to let her take it. "We can take turns?"

Dace nods, grateful for the excuse not to talk. She follows after Eight, lost in thought.