#cactus seedlings

[los-plantalones]

2017:

2018:

2024:

My fishhook barrel cactus (ferocactus wislizenii) seedlings have grown into these unruly gentlemen

[lostintheuniverseslies]

A Quiet Little Seedling

Chapter 16 Plants

Boston Fern (Andrew’s plant previously mentioned in chapter 13)

Coffee Table Terrarium (not plant specific but I find them so cool)

Pothos (non specific. Cebu blue pothos previously mentioned in chapter 10. Generic mention of pothos is chapter 10)

Japanese Holly Fern

Silver Lace Table Fern

Parlor Palm

Hens and Chicks

Cactus Mistletoe (previously mentioned in chapter 12)

Chapter 1 Plants Chapter 2 Plants Chapter 5 Plants Chapter 7 Plants Chapter 8 Plants Chapter 10 Plants Chapter 11 Plants Chapter 12 Plants Chapter 13 Plants Chapter 14 Plants

Next: Chapter 17 Plants

[aloehoarder]

Open pollinated Aloe hybrid I grew from seed, repotted today

[tiredartistgay]

I wanna cry I wanna cry my plants are so happy so healthy viv has a trap that almost as wide as my finger Sandra’s leaves are so red and so dewy and so big and she has a new one almost every day and carter is greener and bigger and shinier then before and he hasn’t poked me in months and Geraldine and Kai are still pretty much the same but they can take their time I love them no matter what and Parker is growing lil baby vines and they stick up like they’ve got bedhead and they’re all so lovely and I love them all so so much I think I would die for these plants

[berryblu-soda]

im not insane for wanting to start tomatoes by this time of year i think, winter temps hit late december/ early january and the absolute lowest is like 10c, i trust them o7

[dante-crowley]

any cactus experts?

I’m growing cactus from seeds for the first time, and a white plant, smooth and not fuzzy is growing and I thought this was odd since Cactus plants are not white… this is getting me worried and I would like to know if there is someone that can help me identify this and tell me how to possibly fix it. I’ll send a photo later since I am at school.

[a-nana-petite]

I wanna thank you guys for taking even just a second to reply to this post. I’ve been having a mental health crisis so just having a few outside people who don’t even know all the details try to comfort me over this little thing….

I killed all my cactus seedlings. Again.

[7-pines]

top 10 things to put into aging barrels

Cactus honey <- Bee house <- Cactus (flower)

Large gesha coffee <- Keg <- Large gesha coffee bean

Goat cheese wheel <- Cheese press <- Large goat milk

Large salted quail egg <- Mason jar <- Large quail egg

Gesha coffee <- Keg <- Gesha coffee bean

Melon juice <- Keg <- Melon (fruit)

Goat cheese <- Cheese press <- Goat milk

Fairy rose honey <- Bee house <- Fairy rose (flower)

Pineapple juice <- Keg <- Pineapple (fruit)

Salted quail egg <- Mason jar <- Quail egg

Calculated without factoring buy prices into this. While animals are expensive, they don't ever stop producing. Ranking based on profit per hour (i.e. how much per hour you make while while these are in their respective artisanal machines).

Since the top 10 largely answers what animal products to prioritize (though I will say, white truffle oil and large llama yarn beat out cactus mead on their own), moving onto other categories of things to prepare for aging barrels. For everything here, make the flowers into honey via bee houses, fruits into juice via kegs and vegetables into pickles via mason jars.

Best Spring Crop: Snowdrop (Rank C, 45g seeds)

Best Summer Crop: Melon (Rank E, 130g seeds)

Best Fall Crop: Cactus (Rank B, 300g seeds)

Best Winter Crop: Snowdrop (Rank C, 45g seeds)

Best Seedling: Lychee... but it's ranked 38 (way below everything else here)

Best Saplings in order of profit:

Durian (spring)

Peach (summer)

Apple (fall)

Alternatives: Cauliflower (Rank F, 70g seeds) during Spring. Fairy Rose (Rank C), Lily (Rank D) and Rice (Rank F) (put this one in the keg) for Fall.

[botaniqueer]

My Orb Stack is putting out more orblets!!!

This is Tephrocactus alexanderi (T. geometricus in the horticultural trade), a cactus in the same subfamily as Opuntia. From what I understand they can be finicky sometimes so I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to acclimate this one properly since I’ve had issues before with cactuses I bought as plants and not seed but this one made it!!! I’m glad to see it put out more branches instead of stalling forever like my other ones.

The seller recommended not watering it for half the year, only starting in May and watering throughout the summer. I had tried to grow this one from seed but had too much trouble keeping the seedlings alive.

[lollytea]

Luz: Uh Ohhhhh. Hunterrrr, Willowww, what's that hanging above your heads? >:3

Willow: Oooh, mistletoe!

Luz: That's right! And did you know th-

Willow: Mistletoe species grow on a wide range of host trees, some of which experience side effects including reduced growth, stunting, and loss of infested outer branches. A heavy infestation may also kill the host plant. Viscum album successfully parasitizes more than 200 tree and shrub species.

All mistletoe species are hemiparasites because they do perform some photosynthesis for some period of their life cycle. However, in some species its contribution is very nearly zero. For example, some species, such as Viscum minimum, that parasitize succulents, commonly species of Cactaceae or Euphorbiaceae, grow largely within the host plant, with hardly more than the flower and fruit emerging. Once they have germinated and attached to the circulatory system of the host, their photosynthesis reduces so far that it becomes insignificant.

Most of the Viscaceae bear evergreen leaves that photosynthesise effectively, and photosynthesis proceeds within their green, fleshy stems as well. Some species, such as Viscum capense, are adapted to semi-arid conditions and their leaves are vestigial scales, hardly visible without detailed morphological investigation. Therefore, their photosynthesis and transpiration only take place in their stems, limiting their demands on the host's supply of water, but also limiting their intake of carbon dioxide for photosynthesis. Accordingly, their contribution to the host's metabolic balance becomes trivial and the idle parasite may become quite yellow as it grows, having practically given up photosynthesis.

At another extreme other species have vigorous green leaves. Not only do they photosynthesize actively, but a heavy infestation of mistletoe plants may take over whole host tree branches, sometimes killing practically the entire crown and replacing it with their own growth. In such a tree the host is relegated purely to the supply of water and mineral nutrients and the physical support of the trunk. Such a tree may survive as a Viscum community for years; it resembles a totally unknown species unless one examines it closely, because its foliage does not look like that of any tree. An example of a species that behaves in this manner is Viscum continuum.

A mistletoe seed germinates on the branch of a host tree or shrub, and in its early stages of development it is independent of its host. It commonly has two or even four embryos, each producing its hypocotyl, that grows towards the bark of the host under the influence of light and gravity, and potentially each forming a mistletoe plant in a clump. Possibly as an adaptation to assist in guiding the process of growing away from the light, the adhesive on the seed tends to darken the bark. On having made contact with the bark, the hypocotyl, with only a rudimentary scrap of root tissue at its tip, penetrates it, a process that may take a year or more. In the meantime the plant is dependent on its own photosynthesis. Only after it reaches the host's conductive tissue can it begin to rely on the host for its needs. Later it forms a haustorium that penetrates the host tissue and takes water and nutrients from the host plant.

Species more or less obligate include the leafless quintral, Tristerix aphyllus, which lives deep inside the sugar-transporting tissue of a spiny cactus, appearing only to show its tubular red flowers, and the genus Arceuthobium (dwarf mistletoe; Santalaceae) which has reduced photosynthesis; as an adult, it manufactures only a small proportion of the sugars it needs from its own photosynthesis, but as a seedling actively photosynthesizes until a connection to the host is established.

Some species of the largest family, Loranthaceae, have small, insect-pollinated flowers (as with Santalaceae), but others have spectacularly showy, large, bird-pollinated flowers.

Most mistletoe seeds are spread by birds that eat the 'seeds' (in actuality drupes). Of the many bird species that feed on them, the mistle thrush is the best-known in Europe, the Phainopepla in southwestern North America, and Dicaeum of Asia and Australia. Depending on the species of mistletoe and the species of bird, the seeds are regurgitated from the crop, excreted in their droppings, or stuck to the bill, from which the bird wipes it onto a suitable branch. The seeds are coated with a sticky material called viscin. Some viscin remains on the seed and when it touches a stem, it sticks tenaciously. The viscin soon hardens and attaches the seed firmly to its future host, where it germinates and its haustorium penetrates the sound bark.

Specialist mistletoe eaters have adaptations that expedite the process; some pass the seeds through their unusually shaped digestive tracts so fast that a pause for defecation of the seeds is part of the feeding routine. Others have adapted patterns of feeding behavior; the bird grips the fruit in its bill and squeezes the sticky-coated seed out to the side. The seed sticks to the beak and the bird wipes it off onto the branch.

Biochemically, viscin is a complex adhesive mix containing cellulosic strands and mucopolysaccharides.

Once a mistletoe plant is established on its host, it usually is possible to save a valuable branch by pruning and judicious removal of the wood invaded by the haustorium, if the infection is caught early enough. Some species of mistletoe can regenerate if the pruning leaves any of the haustorium alive in the wood.

Luz:

Hunter: You are so cool, I want to kiss you so bad.

Luz: Hey, guess what??

[cantankerouscatfish]

curly ric rac / orchid cactus (Epiphyllum guatemalense) seedlings. :3

[elminx]

Random October Planty Things

It just got cold—really, truly cold—here in New England. The lows have been in the high 30s at night, and my friends two towns over had a light frost this morning. We will be among the last to get a frost because we're in a valley protected by a mountain on one side and water on the other three, but it IS coming.

All of my tropicals are inside now and have found their winter homes. Right now, I'm bringing my snake plants and holiday cactus inside every night and putting them back onto the front porch in the morning. This is to get the snakes as much sunlight as possible while I can since they will live in the bedroom all winter long—sans grow lights, unfortunately. I'm hoping these 50-degree days will help the holiday cactus set buds. It's supposed to work that way.

Inside, the grow light setup has changed slightly, and I'm still figuring out which plants want the most light. I added some Sansi lights to my plant stand's top shelf, which are quite intense. It was bleaching out my lemon seedlings, which are supposed to be full sun plants. The baby lavender I brought inside is loving it, though. I think the answer might be Hoya, who will just sun-stress if they get a lot of light. (maybe set peduncles, and I can't get mad about that)

This is my third winter with grow lights, and I have learned a lot. However, many plants outgrew their prior locations, and it's a shuffle to try to get everything what it needs.

My Dracaena is currently living on my kitchen table, getting some ambient light near my plant stand. I'm really hoping that will be enough for it to thrive this winter. It's pretty dark-leaved, so I think it may be fine?

Only slightly related, my neighbors behind the house are selling their place and, in the process, cutting down some (possibly all) of the trees that line the back of this property. This might allow more afternoon light into my kitchen and onto the plant stand. When we moved in, we could grow plants in that window, and now we need supplemental lights. I'd miss the trees but relish the light.

The winter will be long but plants DO help.

[lostintheuniverseslies]

A Quiet Little Seedling

Chapter 21 Plants

Bougainvillea

Honey locust [previously mentioned in ch. 13] Fern [ previously mention in ch. 13 & 16] Cactus Mistletoe [previously mentioned in ch. 12 & 16]

Pink Callisia Repens/ Pink Panther Plant

Purple Heart Spiderwort

Pink Princess Philodendron

Chapter 1 Plants Chapter 2 Plants Chapter 5 Plants Chapter 7 Plants Chapter 8 Plants Chapter 10 Plants Chapter 11 Plants Chapter 12 Plants Chapter 13 Plants Chapter 14 Plants Chapter 16 Plants Chapter 17 Plants Chapter 18 Plants Chapter 19 Plants Chapter 20 Plants

Next: Chapter 23 Plants

[cactusjerk]

We're rolling right into the cactus season and I'm already preparing everything for the flower season. Moving plants outside, making space to water, fertilize, weed out pots and I will bring the little seedlings that I grew over winter into the greenhouse this week too. So much stuff to do...and luckily I had a good day today. The sun helps to keep me motivated. When you're faced with such a huge task every year it can get overwhelming sometimes.

[writtenjewels]

Seedling Day

Salim felt a little nervous as he approached his son. This day was something the two of them had shared together for many seasons. He only hoped that Zain would understand. It came as no surprise to find Zain studying the smaller plants in their area. The younger dryad looked up at his father's approach and smiled.

[Happy seedling day, Baba.]

[Thank you.] Salim returned the smile before taking a breath and speaking his thoughts. [I was hoping you wouldn't mind me doing something different today.] That caught his son's interest. Zain raised an eyebrow, waiting for his father to go on. [I know you and I usually spend this day together, and we will, but I also wanted to see Jason.]

[That cactus nymph?] Now both of Zain's eyebrows were up. [I thought he didn't like you.]

[He's just… prickly.] Salim didn't share how Jason blossomed for him at the nymph dance; it felt too personal a moment to share with his son.

[Well, it's your seedling day, Baba,] Zain concluded. [If it makes you happy, it's okay.]

Salim hugged his son in gratitude and hurried to meet up with Jason. The nymph was easy enough to find, as he usually hung out by the oasis or with the other nymphs. Salim eventually found the cactus; Jason spotted him and lit up in a smile. He hurried over and Salim reached for him.

“Hey,” Jason smiled, cheeks flushing a darker green.

“Hello.” Salim caressed the thin layer of needles on Jason's cheek. Even when he wasn't extending his needles, they would always be a part of Jason's skin. “How is your day going?”

“Not half bad. How 'bout you?”

“Today is my seedling day,” Salim informed him. Jason's eyelashes fluttered, the flush on his skin going even darker green. He understood the significance of Salim being here today.

“I don't got anything for you.”

“That's all right,” Salim assured him. “All I want is to spend the day with you, habibi.” Jason gave him a snort and punched him in the arm. “What was that for?”

“Just 'cause you're a fuckin' tree don't mean you gotta be so sappy!” Salim couldn't help but laugh, and Jason's face softened into a smile as well. “Seriously,” Jason resumed. “That's all you wanna do today?”

“I'll spend time with Zain later,” Salim answered with a shrug. He leaned a little closer, bending his head down to breathe in the scent from Jason's blossomed flower. Even the nymph's scent was a little sharp. Jason's hand touched his cheek and lifted his head back up so their eyes met.

Jason drew closer still and brushed his lips to Salim's. The dryad gasped at the contact and moved his hands to press against Jason's back, drawing him closer. He enjoyed the feel of the nymph's body against his, all of Jason's sharp needles somehow perfectly complementing Salim's bark.

“There's somethin' nymphs do on their seedling day, if you're interested,” Jason mentioned when they parted.

“Certainly, habibi.”

Jason took him by the hand and led him along. They walked until they came to an open clearing full of sunlight. Still holding Salim's hand, Jason positioned them near the center of the clearing. He drew in close so his cheek brushed across Salim's. The dryad felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn't used to Jason being so close.

“Follow my lead,” Jason instructed, and with that began to sway them in a dance. It was slower than the one performed when the nymphs blossomed. Jason had a hand on Salim's shoulder to guide him as they moved to some rhythm only the nymph seemed to know.

“You do this every seedling day?” Salim confirmed.

“Sorta.” Jason nuzzled against Salim. “Not usually with a partner.”

“Then I'm honored you made the exception for me, habibi.” He turned his head just enough to catch the nymph's lips in another kiss. Jason let the contact linger and grow, pulling back with a sigh and brushing their cheeks together again. “You're very affectionate today, habibi,” Salim observed.

“I like that I can get close to you,” Jason confessed. “The needles make it kinda hard, y'know?” Salim nodded absently, running a hand down Jason's spine. The nymph shivered at his touch. “Guess you would know,” Jason hummed. “Your bark don't make it so easy, either. But it suits me just fine.”

Salim didn't respond. He was enjoying the feel and touch of Jason, the slow movements of their dance. Jason, for all his needles, suited Salim, too.

“Happy seedling day,” Jason said in his ear. Salim couldn't remember having a better one than this.

[quellawrites]

Cupid's spines

Square and prompt: B2, Miscommunication

Title: Cupid's spines

Rating: Teen and up

Word Count: 2078

Ship: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional tags: Alternate Universe- Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Human, Getting Together, Attempt at Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Meetings

Summary:

The thing is ugly. It’s roundish and bumpy and its spines are black and irregular. The more Hob looks at it, the more he’s impressed by how truly horrid it looks.

He reaches out and picks it up, careful to not hurt himself with the damn spines. “Perfect,” he murmurs to himself.

“Excellent find,” a deep and beautiful voice says, making him almost jump. “You have chosen a magnificent specimen.”

__

Or, Hob is set on finding the ugliest gift for the head of his department and things (don't) go as planned.

Link to AO3

Written for @dreamlingbingo

Chapter 1-Cupid's arrows come in all shapes.

Hob parks his convertible in front of the garden centre and gets out, swearing under his breath at the sheer size of it. He can see at least four greenhouses from his car and he’s sure his brilliant idea to buy his head of department a plant for her birthday is going to lose him at least one hour and a headache.

The Dreaming, the sign reads. Home of happy plants.

Hob shakes his head at the notion that plants of all things can be happy while he barely holds himself together and steps into the first greenhouse.

A woman is tending to some orchids. There are rows after rows of them, of different sizes, shapes, and colours. 

The temperature is humid in there and even Hob with his black thumb knows it’s perfectly tailored to the plants’ needs. 

If the humidity wasn’t bothering him enough, the mosquitos zooming all over the place are a bloody nightmare, and really, maybe it serves him right for having the brilliant idea to come here in the first place. If he’d gone with Johanna’s idea to buy Ethel a box of chocolates or a nice bottle of wine, he’d already be done with it.

But no, he didn’t want to buy Ethel Cripps something actually nice, so he decided to go with a plant. The uglier and the more complicated to care for, the better.

Hob swears under his breath as he feels one of the little bloodsucking beasts biting at his ankle–and how the bloody hell can they get past his trousers?–and another one at the back of his neck. On instinct, he slams a hand over the nape of his neck and the sound resonates through the place. 

The woman turns, startled by the noise and to her credit, she doesn’t laugh. She greets him with a polite smile. Her name tag reads, Lucienne . “Can I help you, sir?”

“Uh, hello, I need to buy a gift.” 

She politely nods. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Not really.”

“Can you tell me something about the recipient?”

“Well,” Hob says, trying to think of something about Ethel that’s not the bloody witch he wants to say. “She’s my colleague.”

“She doesn’t like flowers,” he adds feeling only a slight twinge of guilt at the lie, because if he’s forced to buy a gift for Ethel Cripps, he sure as hell will not buy her something as pretty as an orchid.

“We have gorgeous house plants in Jessamy’s greenhouse, the next one over,” the woman, Lucienne, says without losing stride. “And a wide array of cacti and succulents in the one after that. Don’t bother going further because you’ll only find more flowers, herbs, and vegetable seedlings in the last three greenhouses.”

“Thank you,” Hob says and heads toward the exit, waiting until he’s out of the greenhouse to wipe the sweat off his forehead and scratch at some of the dozens of mosquito bites he’s got. 

He glances inside the next greenhouse, but even the flowerless houseplants are too nice of a gift for Ethel, especially after having to suffer through a full scale mosquito attack. 

He ends up going straight toward the third greenhouse because he figures an ugly cactus would perfectly represent the thorn in his side she’s been for the last five years. 

The place seems to be empty. It’s not as humid as the orchid greenhouse, and Hob thanks the heavens for it. He glances around himself and can’t help but notice how neatly arranged everything is. Rows upon rows of long tables, each of them holding hundreds of plants, a white label with their name sticking out of every pot. It appeals to the part of him that wishes he could be capable of such organisation instead of amassing trinkets at every turn.

A bite on his ankle brings him out of his musings and he surreptitiously tries to scratch the itch as he walks past the rows of succulents and heads straight to the cacti. Some of them are kind of pretty and he walks past those as well, until he’s facing the ugly cacti with the longer spines. 

Perfect, he thinks as his eyes roam over the plants, searching for the ideal gift. 

Up close, he notices every name label is written in a neat and flowery cursive. 

Ferocactus Glaucescens , one of them reads. It’s an ugly thing with impressive spines and Hob smiles to himself and thinks he may already have found the perfect gift for Ethel.

He’s about to pick it up when he notices it. 

Euphorbia Horrida . 

It couldn’t have had a more fitting name. The thing is ugly. It’s roundish and bumpy and its spines are black and irregular. The more Hob looks at it, the more he’s impressed by how truly horrid it looks. 

He reaches out and picks it up, careful to not hurt himself with the damn spines. “Perfect,” he murmurs to himself, out loud this time. 

“Excellent find,” a deep and beautiful voice says, making him almost jump. “You have chosen a magnificent specimen.”

Hob is about to laugh when his eyes land on the man. The gorgeous man that’s standing in front of him and that, for some reason, seems to like the atrocity Hob is holding.

The man is wearing total black and he looks more suitable to attend a goth party than tending to a greenhouse, Hob thinks. 

He desperately tries to divert his attention from his long legs, clad in trousers so tight they seem sewn on him. But focusing his attention on the stranger’s face doesn’t seem to be any better for he looks so beautiful he’s almost ethereal and Hob is sure he would slice his thumb open if he were to run it over the man’s cheekbones. His gorgeous blue eyes are enhanced by subtly and artfully applied dark eyeliner. 

He probably is one of the most attractive men Hob has seen in his whole bloody life and he’s looking in awe at the monstrosity in Hob’s hands.

Hob bites back the laugh and whatever remark he was about to make and nods. “Truly magnificent,” he lies.

The stranger smiles. It’s the bare hint of a smile, small and barely there but Hob finds he rather likes what it does to the man's face, how it softens his sharp features.  “Not everyone can recognise beauty when they see it.”

“Their loss,” Hob says, trying to keep a straight face and absolutely avoiding looking at the horror in his hand. 

“Their loss indeed,” the man murmurs and reaches out to straighten a pot on the nearest shelf and Hob can’t help but notice his long, elegant fingers. After hesitating just a beat, the man adds, “I have never seen you here before.” 

“First time,” Hob admits and to keep the conversation going, he stupidly asks, “You work here?”

“I do own the place,” the stranger says, pointing at a name tag that reads, King of the Dreaming. At Hob’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “It is a running joke between my staff.”

Hob smiles, thinking that for all intents and purposes this man looks indeed like a king, like royalty. Feeling bold, he asks, “And does Your Majesty have a name?”

The man smiles a cryptic little smile and says, “Perhaps.”

“I’m Hob,” Hob impulsively says and wants to bite his tongue at his own forwardness.  To make up for it, he stupidly adds, “And this place looks impressive. So many plants!” 

The man acknowledges Hob’s introduction with a small nod but instead of introducing himself in return, he tells Hob about the garden centre.

Hob learns that the stranger–besides being the owner–grows some of the cacti himself. He learns that the man is so passionate about his cacti that he designs new hybrids and he is proud of his creations. 

“That’s impressive,” Hob says. “And you sell them?”

“Some of them,” the man says. “I must confess that it is hard to part from my best creations. Most of them end up enriching my private collection.”

“Must be hard to take care of all of them,” Hob points out and, sweeping his hands around himself in a wide gesture, adds, “In addition to these.”

“Oh, it is a pleasure,” the man answers. ‘’You know that soil and water are everything. Once you have taken care of them, they do not require too much care."

Hob knows nothing but nods anyway because he’s too deep in his lies by now. “Soil and water, yeah.”

“What kinds of inerts do you use?” the stranger asks. 

“Uh,” Hob says, trying to look like he knows what he’s talking about. “You know, the, uh, usual.”

“Ah,” the man says, tilting his head to the side as if to assess Hob. “A traditionalist. I must admit I am a bit of one myself, but once in a while I like to experiment with new kinds of substrates. I am currently waiting for a delivery of a fibre-based inert and I cannot wait to try it with my Ariocarpus.”

What the fuck is an Ariocarpus? Hob wants to ask. He nods seriously instead, pretending to understand everything the man has been saying. “Yeah. Next time, let me know how it goes.”

“But of course,” the man answers, smiling one of his lovely little smiles at Hob and all right, perhaps Hob has a tendency to fall arse over tits too quickly but it may very well be the most beautiful thing Hob has ever seen. “I am looking forward to seeing you again and tell you the results of my experiments.”

“Right. Thanks,” Hob says, perking up a little at the prospect of another chance of talking to this beautiful man but also aware that he’s going to need an excuse to visit if he wants to see him again. “I should be going,” he reluctantly adds, glancing at his watch. “You know, work engagement.”

“I will not keep you from your duties, then,” the man says, leading Hob out of the greenhouse and into a smaller room lined with shelves of products and two small cash registers. 

Behind one of them, sits a blond man in sunglasses but instead of bringing Hob’s purchase to him, the beautiful stranger walks to the second register and motions Hob forward..

The man rings Hob’s plant up in silence and then reaches down under the counter and hands Hob a pair of gardening gloves, wrapped in clear plastic. “On the house,” he says, glancing at the plant. “For the repotting. I am sure you already have adequate gloves, but these are a fairly new release, with thicker pads. You are going to need the extra padding if you are going to deal with that beauty.”

“Thank you,” Hob says, genuinely touched by the kind gesture. He’s pretty glad he’s not actually going to have to deal with the plant at all but he’s touched nonetheless.

“You are quite welcome, Hob,” the man says, rewarding Hob with another smile. “Take good care of it.”

"I will," Hob says and the lie makes him slightly squirm with guilt. 

Hob is ready to go to the fucking party. He checks himself over in the mirror, adjusts his tie because the heavens forbid something’s out of place, and heads toward the living room to retrieve the plant. 

He grabs it and he’s about to turn around and go when his mind conjures up the image of the stranger’s face, of his small smiles, of the awe in his eyes as he looked at the bloody thing.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters to himself but he ends up putting the horrid plant back on the windowsill.  

He has to stop to buy a fancy box of chocolates Ethel doesn’t deserve and ends up late to the party. 

When he gets back home, a little tipsy and a lot tired, he points to the cactus. “I hate you,” he says.

A shower and a sobering cup of tea later, the internet tells him his new plant needs well draining soil and scarce water. There’s also a consensus about the dangers of saucers that leads Hob to remove the paper plate he’s been using as such. 

“You’re going to get dirt all over the windowsill,” he tells the plant. 

The plant stares back at him in all of its spiny ugliness. 

Hob heaves a defeated sigh and goes to bed.