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louisa-gc · 1 year

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how to bring less stuff into your home

• don't buy if you already have something similar in function or form — for ex. i already own a pair of boots, therefore any new pair of boots, even if a different colour or a different shape, must stay in the store.

• don't buy to store (unless it's on a good sale) — ex. i'm halfway through my favourite serum and already thinking of buying a new bottle, but i'll hold off until the previous one is actually empty, unless i see it in the store for much less than it usually costs. i also hoard notebooks and try not to buy any more until all have been used up.

• don't buy what you can reasonably rent or borrow — ex. i barely ever buy books because i can find everything i need at the library (including a ladder and a printer).

• don't buy what you truly do not need — ex. did i get a rose quartz roller? yes. did i get it for a purpose? yes, to massage my sore jaw muscles. does it do what i bought it for? meh. is it nice to have? kind of. do i ever use it? not really. so was it a waste of natural resources, cheap labour and my own money? absolutely.

• don't buy spontaneously — ex. i went to the store to buy a new bottle of shampoo but ended up with the rose quartz roller too. in the moment, i could easily justify the need for it and a friend even said to go for it (it wasn't expensive either!). now it sits in its box and i only remember to take it out every three months.

• don't buy what is not on your shopping list — ex. i needed a new pair of black trousers, and had had them on my list for months already. i found the very best pair i could get on my budget, and going into the store i saw so many beautiful pieces, but kept telling myself i only came in for the black trousers. in the end i left the store with only what i needed, because i knew exactly what my mission there was.

• don't buy what won't last — ex. i love to get myself a bouquet of eucalyptus branches every autumn and to let them dry out. i know i can keep those branches for at least a year. while i love fresh flowers too, i know they won't last long. (sometimes i get carnations though, because i know how to keep them going for a relatively long time.) same goes for sweaters: i do not buy acrylic and polyester, simply because i cannot de-pill them the way i can wool.

• don't buy what other's have — ex. i've been dreaming of a rice cooker for a very long time, and especially now that many of my friends have gotten one, i can't seem to stop thinking about it. however i know my current kitchen just wouldn't have the space for it, so i stick to cooking my rice on the stove.

• don't go into stores if you don't need anything and avoid aisles you don't need anything from — ex. i love this ecological store in town, it always smells earthy and pleasant and has beautiful things inside, but if i enter it without a real need for something, i know i will leave with at least a bar of ridiculously expensive chocolate i wasn't even craving. the same principle applies to online shops!

• don't let social media or the people around you create new needs for you — ex. a lot of people on instagram and in my real life are knitting and i would love to do it too! i could easily justify getting all the tools and paying hundreds of euros for wool, but i know i reach for other activities in my free time and that my arms have hurt way too much when i've previously knitted, so it's not for me.

• don't buy unnecessary amounts of things — ex. i recently moved to a very small studio. i've previously always had six of each type of plate, because kitchen things tend to be sold in packs of six. this time i just got three of each (three plates, three bowls, three mugs...) and it has been more than enough. i cannot even imagine having to store double the amount of stuff in my tiny kitchen!

#louisa-gc #minimalism #aesthetic #advice #text post #declutter #anti consumerism #consumerism #low buy #minimalist

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97-liners · 2 years

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sugar and you, except with flowers and jihoon

cranky wedding planner woozi x florist reader

words: 2.1k

just a silly little thing i wrote this afternoon! spinoff of sugar and you (mingyu)

(May)

Jihoon is ill-tempered, foul-mouthed, and prickly. Whenever he’s distracted, lost somewhere in his thoughts, his face naturally settles into a scowl. His glowers could melt sand into glass. And so, it’s a measure of his competency, brutal efficiency, and eye for design, that he’s the most sought-after wedding planner in the city.

The first time Chan meets Jihoon, he’s nearly brought to tears. You’re in the back room, elbow deep in a sink full of camellia branches and pungent water, when you hear your teenaged part-timer calling for you in an anxious voice.

“Boss?”

You know he’s in trouble, because you’ve never heard Chan calling you ‘boss’ in the month that he’s worked here. “Coming,” you call out, drying your hands on the front of your apron. The camellias can wait. “What is it?”

You step out from behind the curtain separating the back room from the shop and come face to face with a very disgruntled looking Jihoon. Blinking at him, you slow to a stop, damp fingers still twisted in the fabric of your apron. “Jihoon? I thought you weren’t picking up your order until next Wednesday.”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Jihoon sighs. “The flowers for the venue can stay the same, but the bouquets need to be blue.”

You raise your eyebrow. “All of them?”

“And the boutonnieres too,” he says. “I know it’s short notice, I’m sorry,” he sighs, running his fingers through his already-tousled hair. He looks like he hasn’t slept in two days.

“No, I can do it,” you smile at him. “I’ll come in this weekend to work on them. Chan,” you turn toward the boy, “can you go back and finish stripping the camellias?”

“O-oh, sure,” he responds, glancing briefly toward Jihoon before slinking past you and disappearing behind the curtain.

“Here, Jihoon,” you turn toward the wall of humming refrigerators along the back of the shop, “let’s see what we can do.”

Jihoon follows you, watching silently as you deftly pick out your selections.

“What’s the vibe?” You pick out a small cluster of periwinkle-colored hydrangeas.

“Something with texture,” he responds. “Modern, not traditional, but not minimalist.”

“Some sage,” you pluck out the greenery and tuck it in with the quickly growing bundle in your arms. “These silver-dollar eucalyptus sprigs would be good too. As for the statement blooms, I’m thinking these delphiniums would do well. I have some dried blue thistles in the back as well. Some queen anne’s lace for extra texture. Um.” You look down at the mess of flowers and greenery in your hands. It’s a mess, completely unarranged, but you can already see the colors coming together.

Chewing on your lip, you shift some of the stems around, then you look up at Jihoon. “What do you think?”

Jihoon looks down at the flowers, then up at you. He might be looking at you more than the flowers, in fact. “I think,” he says, "you’re a genius.”

From behind a curtain of leaves and tightly-shut buds, you beam at him.

(Later, over steaming bowls of instant ramen and scattered thistle stems, Chan asks you how you know Jihoon.

It takes you longer than you’d like to answer that question, but you settle with what Jihoon would say if he was here: “we work together frequently.”)

(August)

By the time Jihoon comes around, iced coffees in tow, it’s pouring rain outside. The perfect Sunday morning of just a few hours ago is now gone, replaced with low-hanging gray clouds and relentless sheets of stinging rain. It’s so humid, the large glass walls of the greenhouse are covered in a dense layer of condensation.

You, too, are covered in a sheen of sweat as you twist green florist’s wire around stems of sunflower and seeded eucalyptus into a wreath.

“It’s terrible in here,” Jihoon groans as he takes his place on the stool next to you. “It feels like I’m inhaling water.”

Laughing, you glanced over at him. “Jihoon, it’s a greenhouse. What did you think it was gonna be like?”

Jihoon ignores your question, instead choosing to ask a question of his own. “Aren’t you hot? Look, you’re sweating. Here.” He holds out an iced coffee at you.

You take the cup from his hand and relish the feeling of ice-cold condensation on your skin. “Thank you, Jihoon,” you tell him, watching as his ears instantly flush red, “you’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not,” he says automatically. “You work too hard.”

“Aren’t you being a bit of a hypocrite?”

“Yes,” he answers easily. “And here.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small earthenware vase with streaks of blue-green glaze. “Saw this at a gallery last night. It made me think of you, so I bought it for you.”

“Oh, Jihoon,” you smile fondly. He places the vase on your work table, and then he rotates it slightly so the most interesting glaze pattern is facing you. “I love it, Jihoon. Thank you for thinking of me.” In your little office in the shop, you have a bookshelf filled with trinkets and knick knacks. There’s a school art project that Chan had gifted to you, various books on horticulture and the Victorian language of flowers, dozens of your own notebooks detailing watering orders and deliveries and watering schedules and soil formulas, and a small smattering of little glass vases and earthenware pots that Jihoon has collected for you over the years. Every week, you dust them all and wipe them down with a damp cloth so that they shine in the afternoon sun.

(A week from today when Jihoon visits and drops by your office to pick up an invoice, he stops dead in his tracks when he spots the newest vase on your desk placed between your monitor and printer. It’s prime desk real estate, dedicated just to his vase and the small arrangement of wildflowers that you’ve placed in it.)

It’s the weekend, but Jihoon is restless and itching for some work to do, so you give him a plastic tub full of loose ribbon and twine and set him to the task of spooling and organizing everything. He puts his laptop on the work table, right between your side and his side, and the two of you watch anime quietly while working. At the end of the afternoon, you have a dozen bright sunflower wreaths, and he has a full rack of spooled ribbon.

When he helps you put everything away, back in the fridges and cabinets where they all belong, he accidentally brushes against you. For a moment, you’re so close to Jihoon, you can smell the coffee on his breath, and you wonder would it would be like to kiss him.

(December)

“Sorry,” Jihoon says, looking genuinely apologetic under the rising and falling waves of light coming from the passing streetlights. He’s driving, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, leaning your head against the cold window and watching him.

“It’s okay, I’m not cold.” The heating is wonky in his car, and he’s bundled up in a big puffy coat with his pressed white cuffs peeking out from under his sleeves every time he moves his hands on the steering wheel. His suit jacket had been given up for you to put over your legs like a blanket, despite your protests that you would wrinkle it. It’s okay, Jihoon had shrugged, ears red, I gotta bring it to the dry cleaners anyway.

“Oh, good,” Jihoon says. He pauses and laughs. “That’s not what I was apologizing for, but I’m sorry about the heating too.”

You frown. “What are you sorry for?”

Jihoon shrugs, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything. It’s just the sound of the highway and the soft music from the radio that filters over the noise. Then, Jihoon tells you, “sorry for dragging you to a wedding and making you sit in a corner all night.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, and then you laugh. “Jihoon, you didn’t drag me to a wedding. You invited me to be your plus one, and I accepted. And you didn’t make me sit in a corner all night, we sat at a table and spent all night talking and eating.” Feeling very sleepy and warm, you grin dopily at him. “And, for the record, I had a lot of fun.”

Jihoon doesn’t respond again for a few seconds, and you almost doze off before he speaks again. “Thanks. I, um, also had a lot of fun.”

“Thanks, Jihoon-ah,” you mumble. “Wake me up when we get to my place, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams.”

(Later on, when he parks and stops the engine, he waits for a while first. You’re already awake, of course— you had woken when he turned off the highway and onto the quieter streets of your neighborhood— but you sit with your head leaned against the window and eyes closed, breathing quiet and even, and you let him have this moment. Here, in his parked car, where it’s dark and quiet, you let him watch you and chew on the inside of his cheek, hand balled up in a fist in his lap, clenching and unclenching as he struggles over whatever internal turmoil he’s working through.

You decide to save him from his struggle and shift slightly, putting on a show of blinking awake, all dazed and bleary.

“Cute,” Jihoon mumbles quietly.

You look up at him, wincing at your sore neck. “Huh?”

His eyes widen. You have an inkling that he didn’t mean for you to actually hear that, but he just flushes and pulls his lips into a thin line. “Did you have a nice nap?”

You smile at him and nod. “Thanks for driving, Jihoon. And thanks for inviting me to come with you.”

Jihoon nods, cheeks pink, and accepts his crumpled jacket when you hand it back to him. “Um,” he starts, looking at your right ear, “I had a really good time. With you.”

“Me too,” you grin, leaning forward. He leans back for a moment, and then he seems to recollect himself and he straightens his spine again so that the two of you are just inches apart.

“And, I think it would be nice if we could do this again,” he finishes his statement.

He’s so cute and flustered, you can’t help but to tease him a little. “What, go to other weddings? As guests? Just how packed is your social calendar?”

“I mean, not weddings, necessarily,” he rushes to clarify, “but, like, other things. The two of us.”

Your heart feels so full, you’re afraid it’ll bubble over. Jihoon reminds you of the gardenia plant you keep in your kitchen. You had rescued it from a hardware store, purchased at a discount when it was sickly and yellow, and you spent months and months caring for it– running a humidifier next to it, timing the amount of sun it was getting and supplementing with grow lights, testing the moisture of the soil every week, and after half a year, your little gardenia shrub produced just one large, beautiful, white blossom. Gardenias are sensitive– they like sun, but only a little bit; they like humidity, but water on the leaves will cause spots; and they won’t tolerate being moved around. You had originally planned on moving the gardenia to the shop eventually, but you ended up keeping it for yourself, this fragile little resident of your kitchen counter.

You decide to take mercy on Jihoon. “I like you,” you smile, unable to suppress the fond way you melt at him. “We don’t have to go on dates if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do want to go on dates! I just…” he huffs out a quick bark of laughter and pushes his hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly styled hairdo. “I like you too.”

“That’s perfect, then.” You lean forward, even closer. “Jihoon, can I kiss you?”

“I–I,” he stammers, flushing even harder, “yeah. Yeah.”)

(May, again)

“Hi, boss,” Chan pokes his head through the curtain separating the shop from the greenhouse. It’s his last summer before he goes off to college, so you’re having him train his younger brother before he leaves town. You’ll miss Chan, that’s for sure, but Geon is a sweet boy. “Your scary boyfriend is here again.”

You frown. “Don’t call him that.”

Chan shrugs. “I think Geon is gonna cry if you don’t come out.”

Shaking your head, you grin and take off your gardening gloves. The roses can wait. You have a grumpy boyfriend to take care of first.

#97.yn #97.writings #97.drabbles #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #woozi scenarios #lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen #rlly pointless lol sorry

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mixotrophics · 1 year

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Pyrophytes,

plants of fire. plants that Need fire (pyrophiles). disturbance is natural and good, as such so is fire (so are we) (it is about moderation and variation). destroyed patches make a mosaic of complex diversity.

eucalyptus. Shaggy peeling bark + (toxic) oils = burns burns burns. explodes. but only fire can destroy the resin on their cones, so this is purposeful, they need it.

gorse. Very flammable. hot and dry (summer or fire) crisps and twists their pods to burst and spread their seeds.

Cyrtanthus ventricosus fire lily. Blooms right after fire, so it is the only place for pollinators to go, standing alone bright red and flourishing against stark white grey black ash,

South African aloes with dead succulent leaves to wear as fire-armor.

longleaf pine that keep their branches safe out of fire’s reach,

and more. And more! Many, actually. Fire can protect these plants from invasives. Fire-maintained habitats of pyrophile plants defend themselves from invasives that get burned. stop the fires and the invasives can come in and wipe out plants therefore biomes therefore So Much, many of which are endangered (longleaf pine savanna at only 3% of its historical range...........)

#miaow #plants #ecology #botany #biology #conservation #prescribed fire #prescribed burn #forestry #forest management

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kpforpresident · 2 years

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Clexaweek Day 6: workplace romance 🌱

Plant shop AU. Or, an AU of an AU.

collab with @thecrimsonknight, the link to the beautiful moodboard that they made is here.

It had been raining all day. Fat streams of rainwater poured off of the dark green eve that sagged defeatedly under the sheer weight of rain, the tinny plink plink plink of drops hitting the metallic gutter echoing under the door frame as they soared through the humid mid-July air. Puddles splashed merrily under harried car wheels as they rushed by the street corner where Lexa’s cozy shop sat, hunched figures under black umbrellas milling about the street corners as people hastily tried to get from their point A to point B relatively dry. A city that sat nestled in the PNW, Polis was no stranger to wet, gray days or foggy cool mornings. However, this summer had been particularly rainy, long weather forecasts of dreary little clouds sitting like sullen soldiers on Lexa’s weather app no matter how often she refreshed and hoped for a crack of sunshine in the little line of weather emojis.

Lexa fidgeted impatiently on her stool, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her and she fought the urge to reach out and straighten the spool of twine that sat primly next to her favorite gardening shears. Chancing one more glance at the slim gold watch that sat clasped around her left wrist, she sighed as she gave up and straightened from her boredom-induced slump, feeling her spine pop slightly as she unfolded from the rickety little stool to standing.

This chick has two more minutes, and then I’m locking the door and going home to watch trash TV and eat dollar ramen noodles, Lexa thought absentmindedly as she drummed her fingers on the battered workbench, watching the secondhand slowly tick towards 4:02. This is the last fucking time you hire one of Raven’s friends- just because she’s Anya’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that you have to let this weird ass best friend nepotism stand- remember what happened when you hired Octavia’s brother to build shelving? That was an entire shitshow… Lexa snarked internally as she wandered through the rows of cut flowers, straightening a wilting tulip as her eyes darted against her will again towards the door and the unrelenting deluge outside. Blurry figures continued to rush by, heads toward the ground, shoulders hunched as they all moved in a coordinated, practiced dance borne of many, many rainy days.

A whole sixty seconds goes by as she stares silently at the thin hand, finally letting her mouth slip into a frown when her expectant gaze darts towards the door to see….no one. Lexa finally let her shoulders slump minutely, hands dropping from where she had been fussing with an all-green bouquet arrangement. Turning the trimmed piece of eucalyptus over and over in her fingers, Lexa turned to the back of the shop and prepared to grab her coat and trudge home once again, mentally preparing for the soggy walk three blocks home to her small albeit cozy apartment.

As she twisted the eucalyptus branch over again in her fingers, she heard the cheery tinker of her door chime, followed by the door flinging open. Lexa was turning around, warm customer service smile plastered onto her face as the human embodiment of a tsunami bounded through the glass door.

Lexa felt the smile fall in abject horror off of her stunned face as the same whirlwind promptly swept into the shop and managed to place their foot perfectly into a plate-sized puddle just beside the door mat, arms and legs pinwheeling spectacularly as her feet skidded out from under her.

She hit the ground with a loud whump, followed by a soft oof as the girl sat up slowly, painfully. Colorful swear words poured from her lips unceasingly as Lexa watched her flex various body parts with increasing confidence among finding the movements absent of pain, clearly going through an inventory of all of her working limbs post- tumble.

Lexa crouched down hesitantly, trying her best to gather the pile of cream-colored papers that had flown from her hands like feathers from a split pillow as the stranger had crashed to the floor of her shop. Sheath of papers finally gathered into a messy stack, Lexa looked up, mouth opening involuntarily as she accidentally locked gazes with the bluest set of eyes she’d ever encountered.

“I- you- you wouldn’t happen to be Clarke, would you?” Lexa managed to croak out after a long moment, where the stranger- Clarke- slowly staggered to her feet with a small wince, free hand rubbing where her hip had made contact with the concrete floor as she nodded in confirmation. Clarke’s other hand tentatively extended to take the stack of what Lexa now realized were art sketches, a small smile breaking across her face like the sun after a rainstorm as their fingers brushed slightly. Lexa absently mirrored her expression, eyes widening slightly as she did so. She flexed her hand as she retreated to behind the workbench, managing to settle onto her stool without looking like too much of a dunce.

Raven, in typical menace fashion, had neglected to mention that her artist friend that Lexa had hired to paint a mural on the blank back wall of her studio, was shockingly, jaw droppingly attractive. Not that Lexa should’ve been surprised. Raven, with her warm brown eyes, flawless skin, and shimmering black hair, could’ve walked straight out of a playboy version of a Mechanics Monthly, even covered in car oil and grease as she usually was when she came home from work from the small shop she owned with Lincoln just outside of Polis. Lincoln’s fiance Octavia was similarly stunning, with sharp cheekbones and a muscular figure, dark eyes cunning and softened by a perfect pouting mouth. Lincoln clearly felt similarly, his gaze becoming soft and dreamy when Octavia would stride into the shop in her free time, a gym bag slung over her shoulder on her way home from the boxing studio that she co-owned with Anya.

Lexa shouldn’t have been shocked that Clarke looked like a Botachelli angel, curves enclosed perfectly in a dark wash pair of jeans, a faded t-shirt slouching perfectly on her shorter frame, but still she floundered for words as the bright cerulean gaze met hers expectantly, Clarke hobbling forward to spread her cache of doodles across Lexa’s desk. Lexa tried not to drool obnoxiously as a pair of worn Doc Martens came into view at the bottom of her field of vision.

Sappho, give me strength, Lexa thinks frantically, heart beating a tempo against her ribcage as her fingers tap the wooden desk nonsensically, desperately, as a wave of sweet perfume engulfs her when Clarke shifts slightly to tuck a graphite pencil behind her ear, shimmering waves of blonde hair tumbling out from a harried braid.

“Sorry I’m late,” Clarke blurts out apologetically, tracing her finger over a smudge of charcoal in the lower corner of the topmost sketch. Lexa was already shaking her head before her brain engaged, dismissing Clarke’s wavered apology before it had fully passed her lips.

“It’s totally fine, Clarke” Lexa soothes as she darted her gaze down to appraise the charcoal lines that Clarke had spread as a silent offering in front of her, sentence petering off slowly as she leaned closer to appreciate the drawings. ‘“These- these are amazing, Raven mentioned that you left your pre-med track to go to art school downtown after your dad died?”

Clarke nods silently, chewing on a rose colored lip as her thumb smoothed over a sketch of an apple blossom, a feathery fern bending effortlessly in the background. Lexa notes the slight tension in her shoulders at the mention of her father and steers the conversation to safer waters, hair falling out of its tired bun as she bends over the drawings to examine them in more detail. She’s so entranced by the sketches she doesn’t see Clarke’s gaze trace over her figure, lingering on how Lexa’s lips purse in thought as she traces a reverent finger over a very realistic tulip bud.

“I mean, I love them all,” Lexa concludes helplessly as she runs a thoughtful hand through her hair, chancing a glance up at Clarke, who happens to be gazing at Lexa from her higher vantage point at the same time. “I would love for you to paint any of them on the wall, I’d love to just let you go wild. I’m happy to pay for whatever paint you need on top of your base rate for your time, I know it’s a big wall.”

Lexa can feel her cheeks go crimson as they lock eyes again, standing awkwardly to gesture uselessly at the large white wall that borders the back of her store, decorated only by a small floral fridge on the far right side.

“I- do you like italian food?” Clarke blurts out from somewhere behind her shoulder, Lexa turning incredulously to be met with a twin set of flaming pink cheeks. “Can I buy you dinner, and we can sketch out the mural? Is that ok? Is that breaking some sort of client contractor rule? Because I already swore to Rae that I wouldn’t fuck this up, because Anya’s essentially your sister and all–”

“I’d love to get dinner with you, Clarke.”

///

Four months later when Clarke finally puts the finishing touches on the mural, they celebrate with takeout Italian food and champagne on the floor of the little flower shop.

#clexaweek23 #day6 #clexa #clarke x lexa #plant shop au

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rjzimmerman · 2 months

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Excerpt from this story from The Revelator:

At first glance the hills and valleys covered in coastal sage scrub oak are little more than a featureless green swath. On closer inspection, however, you can recognize it for what it truly is: the beating heart of one of the most genetically rich ecosystems on the planet. Birds, insects, mammals, fungi, and even some other plants find refuge under the boughs of coastal sage scrub oak, while water drawn up from its deep roots spreads out to sustain ground-dwelling organisms.

Species name:

Coastal sage scrub oak or Nuttall’s scrub oak (Quercus dumosa)

Description:

The coastal sage scrub oak rarely grows more than about 7 feet tall, but it can spread outward a great distance thanks to its lateral branches and multiple trunks. The trees’ small, spiny leaves emerge in the spring soft and bright green, but gradually toughen and darken to a dusty dark green by summer. Their acorns tend to be thin and elongated, almost conical.

Where it’s found:

The coastal sage scrub oak, as its name implies, is found along coastal areas in Southern and Baja California. The full extent of its range is the subject of spirited debate, as it shares many similar physical characteristics with other scrub oaks found more inland. In San Diego County, the remaining populations of coastal sage scrub oak exist in fragmented populations, usually in wildlife reserves, like islands in a sea of urban development.

IUCN Red List status:

Endangered

Major threats:

Urban development destroyed much of this tree’s habitat, and its remnant population still faces this threat, along with several others. The introduction of grasses and other highly flammable nonnative species, like eucalyptus, have increased fire frequency and intensity. Escaped ornamental plants and grasses can outcompete oak saplings for light, space, and water. And climate change is resulting in disruptions to precipitation, which stresses all populations.

My favorite experience:

While collecting tissue samples after a spring rain, I took a moment to look at the tracks imprinted into the soft ground. Animal prints were everywhere — mule deer, raccoon, fox, opossum, roadrunner, and what I hoped were those of an exceedingly large bobcat and not a mountain lion. I rarely saw any of these animals during the day but, thanks to the rain, it was clear that they were all around me — present but hidden within the oaks.

My favorite experience:

What I could see, however, were the many birds flying from tree to tree, reminding me of fish swimming among outcrops of coral. Insects buzzed all around. Galls created by tiny wasps were starting to grow from some of the oaks. By summer, some of these galls would grow to the size and color of a peach, bobbing slowly in wind scented with wildflowers, sunbaked dust, and sagebrush. I knew that under my feet deep roots reached toward the precious groundwater that would sustain the forest during the dry season, and spreading from those roots were mycorrhizal fungi that would work with the oaks to support each other.

I grew up among the firs, cedars, hemlocks, and maples of the Pacific Northwest. I always thought forests needed to be composed of tall, majestic trees christened with carpets of rolling moss. Yet this sea of small, scraggly oaks held so much life. My perspective grew. It’s one thing to read about this ecosystem and another matter entirely to truly see it and understand how precious it is.

#coastal sage scrub oak #California #Baja Mexico

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himehikoshrine · 6 months

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This plant is shown 4 times in the Puppet manga, including on the first and last page. Each time, it's more and more bare. In the third picture it is explicitly associated with the main character trying to force himself to keep going despite losing hope he can fulfill his dream. in the final page, it is completely bare, despite it being summer, as the main character fades out of even his own narration of the story in the final line.

Best guess is that it's some variety of eucalyptus. The associations in Japan seem to be revival and new life, after the eucalyptus's ability to grow back after wildfires in Australia. Him telling himself "don't stop" as the last chances for a rebirth fall off, despite pushing himself to injury until all that is left are empty branches, perhaps? Take all this with a grain of salt though, as its hard to verify.

Either way, it clearly represents his own dreams and ambitions.

There are also two other places that are there to mark the change of seasons -- jack jeanne is a story with a lot of focus on seasonality -- that also none-the-less include something that falls off tree branches. They are:

The first is Tanakamigi's first appearance, marked by the fall of cherry blossoms, and the other, a fall of a leaf, indicating the transition from autumn into winter, and shown above the dry grass which we later see covered in snow. It's when the main character is once again trying to repeat his confident mantra from the start, but unable to finish it.

#puppet #puppet spoilers #jack jeanne meta #my posts #puppet-kun

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izukunii · 1 year

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I WILL PAY THE BILL, YOU TASTE THE WINE.

feat: gojo satoru x me (literally)

contains: tagalog pet names, allusions to drinking (socially), reader is shorter than gojo, slight deviation from the canon but gojo wears his blindfold even at a 24hr mcdonald’s

summary: gojo is by no means hideous, but you’re all that and a bag of chips

warnings: shameless selfship, slight angst to comfort, physical behavior (swiping/scratching at a shirt) that could be interpreted as obsessive/compulsive

every time you and your boyfriend leave the house, if he’s not already dressed so, he changes into a dress shirt and slacks.

the style varies. some shirts have intricate embroidery for the places that actually have a dress code. some have little shapes and characters on them. some have stripes. some have dots.

they’re all long sleeved. they’re all dry cleaned.

it’s been like that from the jump.

it’s what made you fall in love with him.

but it’s three am and he’s smack dab in the line at mcdonald’s, one hand in yours, and the other swiping at his chest: he didn’t have time to iron this one. in fact, this shirt was last night’s shirt (embroidered with eucalyptus branches along the cuffs). and needless to say, after a wine and dine that good, the two of you needed the extra calories.

the wrinkles concern him because of his perfectionism. because of his curse. his image.

if there are wrinkles in the shirt, that’s a flaw in the facade. a vulnerable bunched up in the fabric that’s covering so many scares, physically and metaphorically.

he just wants to look good for you. wants to look his best and then even better than that. infinitely so. he wants people to see him at your side and be jealous. jealous of him (and of you of course, he’s not that humble after all).

but no matter how perfect he is, you’re perfection incarnate. and if he’s the exalted one, you’re life eternal.

it’s been like that from the jump.

it’s what made him fall in love with you.

you take his other hand and stop his obsessive behavior. he feels a pressure building behind his eyes, but he swallows a deep breath, and offers you a soft smile, then a cheesy bite of his lip before he nudges your nose with his.

“satoru,” you whisper, leaning into him now that you’re on tip-toes.

“yes, mahal?”

mahal. fuck, you lost your train of thought.

“you look wonderful tonight,” you finish with a kiss just below the hem of his blindfold.

“tonight? just tonight?” he manages. he thinks he’s gotten away with the stammer in his voice. praise is the only thing that ever catches him off guard.

that’s your only way of giving him a taste of his own teasing medicine.

“always, satoru,” you reply. “always and a day.”

#my work #my writing #selfship #gojo satoru #gojo #jjk

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faewitchsherbs · 2 years

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𝕬𝖑𝖑𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖊

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓/𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖐 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊(𝖘): Allspice, Pimento berry, Jamaica pepper 𝕭𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊(𝖘): Pimenta dioica 𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞: Mytraceae~ clove, bay rum, eucalyptus, myrtle, guava

𝕸𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘: Used in a paste for tooth aches, arthritis & sore muscles, acne, and cold limbs. Also used in a tea for encouraging appetite and digestion, and as a tonic 𝕾𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖊𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘: Can cause nausea and vomiting in large amounts.

𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑/𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘: Boosts will power Breaking bad habits & inertia Clearing energy blockages Courage Healing mixes Increasing energy & determination Luck Money Sex magic Spell booster Spell breaking 𝕯𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖞(𝖎𝖊𝖘): 𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙(𝖘): Fire 𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖙(𝖘): Mars 𝖅𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖈(𝖘): 𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗(𝖘): Masc 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖐𝖗𝖆(𝖘): 1st|root|red

𝕻𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘? 𝕴𝖋 𝖓𝖔, 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖘 & 𝖔𝖗 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘: No. Has a robust, peppery, earth taste and smell. Used as a sub for cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓: Jerk recopies and English food, stews, sauces, pickling, and more.

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓- 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙: Tropical areas 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙: 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙: 3ft apart to allow for full canopy spread 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘: 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖘/𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘/𝖊𝖈𝖙: 𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖎𝖕𝖘: must have male and female trees for cross-pollination, only female trees set fruit. 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖘𝖙- *INDANGERED GROW YOUR OWN* 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖘𝖙: trees fruit at 3 yrs of age 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖔𝖗: flowers appear in June, July, and August, once berries are full size but are unripe and green (because once they ripen they lose their aroma) 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖘𝖙: the unripe yet full grown berries from females and leaves from males 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖘𝖙: break off small branches bearing clumps of berries, being sure to leave as little wounds on the plant as possible. 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖗𝖞/𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊: Dry in the sun or in an oven until they turn a dark reddish brown. Leaves can be plucked and pressed for oil.

#witchcraft #witch #witchy #herbalism #herbs #greenwitch #kitchenwitch #allspice

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blubushie · 1 year

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hihihihi me again!!!! do you like pizza? whats your favorite pizza topping? what do you eat for breakfast? whats your favorite book? do you like musicals? do you play cards? whats your favorite town? how does shaving work out in the bush? how does going to the bathroom work out there? what do you do for water? did you ever miss the USA when you were there? do you have halloween in australia? how do you do laundry? what if you get hurt? have you ever been bitten by a snake? how do dingos sound?

Hello again!

Do you like pizza? What's your favourite pizza topping?

Yes. I put yellow and red onions on mine because I like onions.

What do you eat for brekkie?

If I'm lucky, eggs and maybe some bacon or sausage. Most days I don't have brekkie and just have a cuppa (cup of coffee or eucalyptus tea). On the days I do, it's usually a cuppa and vegemite toast.

What's your favourite book?

Call of the Wild by Jack London.

Do you like musicals?

Yes! My favourite is Heathers. I can't count how many times I've sang Freeze Your Brain (or the Dead Girl Walking Reprise, I don't care if I'm off-key).

Do you play cards?

I'm good at Crazy Eights and poker. I'm very good at poker. I took my uncle's watch in a game of poker when I was 11.

What's your favourite town?

Daly Waters! Best pub on the planet. For the US it'd be Chester, California.

How does shaving work out in the bush?

Like this.

The trick is... I don't shave. Firstly it makes me look more rugged, which is better for impressions. Second I just don't care for shaving? Razor burn's a cunt so battery clippers are my-go to when I'm getting a little too feral. I use a knife to trim my sideburns when needed (I have a straight razor somewhere but I've got a sharp knife so why bother looking ay?)

How does using the toilet work out there?

I've got a dunny in Matilda, so... normally? Unless you mean while camping, in which case... bring a shovel. And dig the hole first. Dunny paper is paper so it breaks down just fine in dirt. Anybody who tries to sell you "eco-friendly" dunny paper is just trying to have a lend of you.

What do you do for water?

Conserve. On rare occasions I make a raincatcher out of tarp to restock but usually I'm buying water or refilling my canteen in a clear stream, then boiling it in a pot over a fire (either in Matilda on the stove or over a campfire).

Did you ever miss the USA when you were in Australia?

Kinda. I missed my parents and the sound of scrub jays (and at the time, petrol prices). I missed California poppies, and squirrels, and opossums, and raccoons, and my pets. That's about it.

Do you have Halloween in Australia?

Some cities (certain areas of Sydney/Brisbane/M*lbourne) have it but it's an American holiday and not really one we observe. We don't do trick-or-treating and people are trying to start it here but Aussies have this... intense feeling of "leave your neighbours the fuck alone" and the idea of disturbing them and demanding lollies is appalling to us.

How do you do laundry?

Well you get your dirty clothes and you find a stream with a good current and then you find a big rock, and a small rock, and you lay the clothes over the big rock and scrub them with the small rock. Alternatively you can just use a washboard but that's for chooks. Then you hand your clothes on the side of your van or from tree branches until they dry. Usually takes 30min to an hour depending on how hot that day is. Best time to do it is around 3pm when the earth's properly warmed already and the amount of heat coming from the sun is greater than the amount of heat escaping the earth. They'll be dry by 4pm.

What if you get hurt?

I've been hurt, it's depends on the level of hurt. If I'm bitten by a snake (worst case scenario, say it's a taipan) then my best bet is finding a nice tree to lay under and kiss my arse goodbye. If it's just a scratch I'll pour some whiskey on it to sterilise it and if it's deep I'll maybe pack a poultice into it just to make sure it doesn't get infected (and to stop the bleeding).

Have you ever been bitten by a snake?

I was bitten by a black-headed python in WA when it slithered into me fucking engine one night to stay warm. Cunt was just under 3m long and had its mouth wrapped around my wrist. Don't blame him, I wouldn't be happy about being woken up by some cunt neither. I was bitten on the ankle by a bandy-bandy that slithered into my swag which is venomous but despite being elapids (in the cobra family) they're mutagenic which means their venom is adapted to target specific prey, which doesn't include humans so they're practically harmless. I just had some local swelling and soreness and I was fine in a few days. Their fangs are so small it didn't even leave a scar. Felt like a nasty bee sting.

How do dingos sound?

They can bark to warn their pack (I don't care what anyone says I have fucking heard them bark) but it's very rare. Usually they howl. It's one of those noises that you can immediately identify the second you hear it (I equate it to the Australian version of a rattlesnake. Every bushman knows what a dingo sounds like and there's no mistaking it for a feral dog, which we also have a lot of). They also make a yipping sound that sounds like a cross between a bark and a coyote's yip but a little bit different, I don't really know how to describe it.

#blu whos

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polarwooly · 2 years

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First Time for Everything

Ukko x Honeywort human!au that I've been writing for a while. This is about their first kiss.

Chapter 1

Cw: Gender dysphoria, slightly spicy flirting

A warm summer wind rustled through the bows of the eucalyptus trees and whistled softly among their ghostly white-barked trunks, carrying their sweet aroma up into the darkening sky. The sparse forest was quiet, the screeching parrots and singing birds having already retreated to their nightly perches and the sounds of other wildlife being drowned out by the babbling of the golden brown stream that ran through the forest, swelled from its normal lazy meander by the spring rains not so recently passed. A small group of antilopine kangaroos grazed by the edge of a thicket. With a thump of a foot, a reddish male alerted the others to the sound of a breaking twig nearby and a dozen pairs of ears perked in search of danger. Where they were pointed, a small, ambiguously humanoid shape descended warily from an apple-gum and hopped out of sight into the bushes. It blended into the backdrop of the forest floor as well as it had into the canopy, continuing its careful sprint further down the winding paths and prey trails that criss-crossed the woods, leaving the herd unbothered in their meal.

Some distance downriver, tents marked with the snarling wolf-head to the Northern Kingdom’s army had been set up behind the partial cover of rocky outcroppings jutting above the woods. The figure popped its head up from behind a fallen tree and with one last nervous glance behind, took off its hood and approached the pair of guards keeping watch on top of a wind-rounded boulder. They both nodded a greeting as the sullen form of the company’s young healer, Hyoscyamus, or Ukko as he had quickly become known to all of camp, skulked past them. Recently, the skinny man had been running double-duty as a scout, supplementing the two they had already. He didn’t return the greeting, just made his way towards his own tent by the edge of camp and slinked inside. The space was small and had just enough room for three bedrolls arranged around the central pole. His own was in a perpetual state of clutter as always, covered in dry and drying leaves, collections of stones, bones and various clay pots filled with substances other people could only guess at because none were labeled. He tossed his bag among the bound-up branches of herbs and gave one of the other beds a nudge with his foot.

“Wake up Vala! It’s sundown, your shift.”

With a mock protest, a lanky-limbed woman unfolded from under the covers, rolled over and got her long feet under herself with all the grace of a newborn moose.

“Hnngh,” she groaned as she stretched out her arms out and grabbed her equipment in the same series of movements. “Hi Ukko. Bye Ukko.” With that, she ducked down and exited the flap, disappearing into the night as silently as he had arrived from it.

Ukko considered the state of his own mat, now with the added bulk of his herb-filled bag, and elected to sit on the third one instead, neatly kept and arranged and lined with quite a few non-standard-issue pillows. This one belonged to Honeywort, an expert soldier and fellow scout, one of the best in camp. The best if you accounted for height, which Ukko was one to do for his own reasons. He kicked his feet up on the mess flooding in from his side of the sleeping arrangement and pulled his straw cape over himself. He would have preferred to have been asleep hours ago, when the sun had still been fully visible in the sky, but his dumb scout-shift had kept him awake. Now, laying down in the empty tent, he drifted off to muddle-dreamed sleep almost immediately.

~~~

"Scooch over?"

Ukko's eyes snapped open as he felt the pressure of a light touch on his arm. Even in the gloom of the tent, he could make out Honeywort's face hovering above him. He looked about as tired as Ukko felt, his ruddy brown hair escaping from its ponytail in whisps and deep lines under his pale green eyes. Ukko sat up, instantly alert. He patted the mat and Honey dropped next to him. His shoulder smelled like cooking meat and spices as it settled near Ukko's head-height.

"Got you on firepit duty again?" he inquired, trying not to look like he was smelling him on purpose.

"Yeah, it took forever to get the fire going. Wet wood you know. I didn't see you all evening though?" He rubbed soot from his forearm, then looked at his shirt with an unhappy frown. The dark brown fabric had black smudges on it too.

Ukko licked the sharp canine that protruded from under his lip, dislodging a stubborn piece of root bark. "I ate while I was out," he waved a dismissive hand and leaned back to stretch, unintentionally highlighting the ribs pushing on his thin skin. He folded back down quickly when he noticed Honey was watching.

"Plants don't count as real food," he insisted. As long as Ukko had known him, Honey had been an avid carnivore in his diet. He always seemed to manage to come up with a near endless supply of small game or eggs or fish whenever it was his time to spice up the dry wheat rations of the camp. Thanks to that skill, he had that duty a lot.

"Oh?" Ukko cocked an eyebrow wryly. "I brought these all this way for nothing then? What a shame…" Crawling across the floor on his hands, he reached into the bag he'd thrown in the corner and pulled out a small cup made of a folded strip of bark. It was filled with wild strawberries, small and red and slightly soft from the heat. He wiggled it in the air and it was snatched away in exchange for a crooked smile. Honey poured some into his hand and downed them in one mouthful, savoring the taste as he chewed. Ukko watched as he practically squirmed with delight and turned down the offer to share under the pretense that he'd already had his fill. Really, his pleasure tasted sweeter than any berry could.

After the small basket was empty, Ukko took it back, unfolded and stuck it back into the bag for later use. Honey’s pale fingers were now dyed slightly red in addition to the soot.

"Okay, some plants can be actual food. Thank you.” Ukko grinned like a self-satisfied fox. “You know…” Honey moved to sit closer to him. “Vala won't be back for a few more hours…" He walked a pair of stained fingers playfully up Ukko's arm. It was a familiar game between them. He would tease, the other would parry. But this time, instead of pulling away or making up an excuse to shift the topic, Ukko remained still under the touch. He turned his hand palm up towards Honey. The slightly taller man blinked, a little confused at first, before a smile spread to his eyes and he folded his fingers between the offered ones. Ukko marveled at the softness of his touch and wondered if his calloused and clawed hands must have felt like gravel in return. He didn't want to ruin such perfect skin, even inconvenience it in any way. He wanted to be gentle, for once. Bringing the intertwined fingers up to his mouth, he pressed a kiss on the back of the hand. The taste was intoxicatingly like the scent worn into everything Honey owned, from his clothes to the sleeping mat they sat on. In a moment of boldness, he brought his hand out of the embrace and clasped both of them behind Honey's neck, pulling their faces near. He was so beautiful, he wanted to tell him. How he admired him and the way he fought, his muscles and his beard and his sparkly eyes and his everything. The low light dancing on his face was like nothing he could describe. But he didn't say any of that. He couldn't. He lied so much, so readily. Honey would think he was lying again, there was no way he could understand how he felt. He would probably tire of this new game soon and pull away. His arms squeezed on the neck between them harder without his conscious input.

To his surprise, he felt palms close around his own cheeks. Honeywort's eyes were soft like his touch and made the nerves in his stomach clench, but the rest of his body relaxed into the other man's hands. Suddenly, his face was very close. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke so softly it almost sounded like a purr.

"I like you, Hyos." There was no ulterior motive to the words. No hidden meaning of expected compliance. Just a pure, unfiltered declaration. Like they were two school-boys with crushes. There was something about them that made a red glow appear on the tips of Ukko's ears and spread all over his face.

"I uh.. I like you too. A lot."

It felt like nothing compared to how he was feeling. How he had been feeling for months now. Like a bucket of water compared to the ocean itself. He brushed a hair out of Honey's face, lingering in tracing the outline of his temple with his nail. It felt so right. He began to lean in, but lost his nerve at the last moment. He fumbled, blowing a sigh through his nose and clenching his teeth. He chose something that was a little less daunting than the radiant face waiting patiently for him with lidded eyes and kissed the curve of the cheek framing it instead. A hum vibrated through Honey's throat and against Ukko's arms.

"May I?" The husky whisper disappeared into Ukko's wild hair as a thumb rubbed small circles into his cheekbone.

What a terrible thing to ask, he thought. Ukko knew from experience he hated being touched, that slightest contact from anyone but a few select people could make his skin crawl and gut twist uncomfortably on a bad day. But it would be different when it was Honey. It had to be. So, he told a very wreckless lie right to the face of the person closest to him. "Please."

Soft fingers traced the line of his jaw, brushing along the light fuzz of his shadow of a beard. Ukko pressed his cheek deeper into Honey's hand. It was so warm. Leaving the other side of his face, Honey's right hand guided a curl behind an ear and drifted down, caressing his neck, gliding over his clavicle and under his straw cloak. The binding was undone and a weight shifted off Ukko’s shoulders as the only piece of clothing covering everything above his waist was half shrugged, half pushed off and fell behind him on the bed. His skin bristled against exposed air, sending a pleasant tickle down his body. Tensing slightly from the familiar sensation given new significance, he hazarded a glance at the man holding him so tenderly. His face was still level with his, but eyes were cast down, following and guiding the trailing touch.

A pang of desperate love shot through his heart. How much he wanted to just hold him like this, forever. To wrap their bodies together until they melded into one. So no-one else could have him, take him away, even look at him. Because to look at Honeywort was to love him, to bind your very soul into his service until the second Surge wiped this pitiful island off every map, until the sun no longer rose in the East, until the seas boiled off at the end of days. And even longer. Truly, forever. And in this moment, this divine being whose very essence was love itself was looking at him. Touching him. The exploring fingers kept their downward path on his chest, noting every rib, every stringy muscle, and appreciating every single one with drawn out, languid strokes. Like he too had been watching from afar for ages, unable to touch, but drowning in curiosity. Just like him. It was getting to be too much for his heart to handle. A sigh escaped his mouth into Honey's palm. His next breath was shallow. And the next.

His eyes closed again, so he didn't see Honey's gaze darting up to his face with dawning worry, then down to the binding that was beginning to constrict his breathing. The fingers wound down further, until they rested on the fabric and tugged at it, as if testing the surface of a pond frozen overnight. They moved around the base of the armpit, where the wrap was tucked in and secured with near-sadistic firmness, pressing red and raw into tan skin with every expanding of the lungs underneath. Ukko felt the touch moving back and disappearing over the cotton, then a slight tug and the pressure of a knot being undone. He didn't care at the moment. Honey could take off anything of his that he wanted, expose every bleeding inch of him, if only he kept looking at him. Kept seeing him. All of him. His eyes flew wide as a horrific realization ripped through the pleasant pink haze in his mind like a hunting knife through meat.

"HEY! Don't-" he yelped.

Rail-thin arms shot to Honey's chest to shove him off, but the other man had already recoiled as if the skin he'd been admiring with his touch had turned into molten copper. He fell back, scrambling until he stood, still half-crouched, at the other end of the small hide tent. His beautiful green eyes shone wide and frightened in the dark. Ukko's heart ached with regret, the night feeling suddenly very cold though the weather had been baking hot for weeks. Then another emotion overpowered that one and he fumbled for the thin blanket to pull up over his shoulders. Reaching under his arm, he re-attached the loose fabric. A quick pat confirmed it hadn't come undone any further. His whole body folded involuntarily into a hunch, knees coming all the way up to his chin and arms folding under the moth-eaten fabric to pull it tight. Honeywort seemed to be caught between two instincts. His hands were raised towards his partner like he wanted to replace the comforting embrace of the blanket with his own, but his feet didn't let him move forward towards someone who had so clearly rejected his advances.

"I'm… I'm so sorry. I thought… I'm sorry." He swayed back and forth with indecision and clenched and unclenched his soft hands like a nervous cat. Guilt eclipsed the unnamed feeling twisting Ukko's insides. How could he have startled him like that? Yelled at him? Like a simple gesture wouldn't have been enough. Like he wasn't the gentlest, kindest man he'd ever known. Ukko reached out a hand from under the cover and it was immediately grasped between two others. Honey sat down on his knees but still remained the taller one of the two.

"I didn't mean to shout," Ukko apologized in a low voice. He pressed his chin on the tangle of fingers without kissing them. The moment was gone, he had shoved it away. Like he always did. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just let people touch him? Be normal about it all? He always, always snapped at them and hit them and chased them away, and for what? Looking at him? Seeing who he really was? But it didn't feel like that. It seemed the more they, all of them, looked, the less they saw. Hot tears burned at the edges of his eyes and he tried to blink them away.

Honey's breathing was fast now too.

"No, no, please. It's my fault, I didn't mean to go too far, I'm so sorry. I just… wanted to-"

"You don't have to pretend." Ukko didn't mean for words to sound as pointed as they came out as. He tried to soften his tone, but only managed to make it quieter. "I know you only like men. I overheard you talking with Xyris about it." Hah, he laughed in his mind. 'Overheard.' As if he hadn't been eavesdropping on purpose. Like he hadn't been sore with envy at how easily his brother had spoken about the topic. How little it meant to him.

"Aren't… you a man?" Honey gave an odd look, seemingly frantically combing over every conversation he'd ever had with or about the thin figure sitting on his bed.

"Yes!" Ukko blurted out, almost offended. He took his hand from Honey's and rubbed it through his own hair. "But what I'm saying is, I don't really look… I mean… You wouldn't like some parts of me. I wouldn't." I don't. The thought remained unspoken. There was nothing to be done. Not with oils and herbs or magic words and charms. His body had been wrong since his birth and it would continue to grow crooked for the rest of his life.

"That doesn't matter to me, silly!" Their eyes met in the soft light of the campfire shining through the tent’s seams. "I like men. You're a man. I like you. The whole you."

Ukko stared at Honeywort. His face held nothing but openness and honesty… and love. He wasn't lying to save his feelings. He really did… like him. He was willing to accept all of him. Ukko blinked. He searched for the feeling of joy that was supposed to be blooming in his chest. He should have been grateful. He should have embraced his lover like he was in danger of flowing out from between his fingers like morning mist, like the most precious jewel in the world, like a steady stone in a hurricane. He wanted to want that. But instead, the miserable little man sat on the bed, shaking. Shaking with anger, frustration and bitterness. Trembling because his most beloved didn't want to share his enemy, if that enemy was his own body. Because he didn't understand. A raspy gasp ripped from his throat. He really was broken, incapable of accepting a good thing when it was handed to him. Why couldn't he just be happy? Just let Honey touch him like he wanted to? Tears dripped into his lap as the hunch deepened and he tried to become just as small as he felt.

Honey was still sitting across from him in the dirt, looking no less panicked than when he'd been shoved away, afraid to even move for fear of shattering his lover completely. Hesitantly, gentler than brushing the wing on a butterfly without breaking it, he reached out a hand and placed it on the head of the weeping lump. Hearing no protest, he began to stroke the messy dark hair. He leaned in and pressed his body on the other's, enveloping him in his comforting warmth. He searched for words for a while before speaking.

"I won't ever touch you like that again. I'm sorry. Just say the word and I'll stop. Always. About anything. But please, just… let me hold your hand?"

A head of frizzy hair rose slowly from between Ukko's hands, eyes like saucer-plates looking directly into Honey's. The tears were still falling like rain, but the choked sobs mixed with gasping laughter. Ukko turned and grasped both sides of Honeywort's face, cupping his cheeks roughly, yet with so much love he could never hope to put it into words. So he didn't try. He simply yanked the jaw in his hands forward and laid a full, deep kiss right on the lips of the most wonderful man he had ever known. He tasted like wild strawberries.

#this man is gay and in love #also trans #it is the copper age in fantasy-Australia #human au #girfugol #yes this is canon but though an au filter #literature

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pr1ncesspopstar · 4 days

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To Live, To Learn - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 17: Sally

Ao3

Halditar plucked one of the branches of foliage off the garland on her apartment wall. Finally, after weeks of waiting the air had pulled out all the moisture from the leaves, leaving them so brittle they crumbled between her fingers as she pinched them. Between her fingers, she could feel the smallest bits of residue, smooth and fragrant. She grinned, chuffed that her patience was rewarded.

The mediocre healer took her bundles of twigs and carried them to the other side of her apartment, trailing leaves through the house she’d forget to clean later, to her retainer's annoyance. She’d make it up to him later, she promised.

She laid her bounty out on one of the many desks she strung together into a workstation, next to a series of beakers and vials with other liquid and solids, attached together through various tubes and machine parts.

She had harvested the black sally branches herself to ensure their quality, something that paid dividends as she stripped leaves from branch in single, smooth motions she may not have been afforded with a cut of lower quality. Before long her extraction pot was full, and she had to press down on the leaves to crumple them to fit more, before repeating the process. From there she only had to turn the boiler, and watch the vapors and pressure work their magic.

As the oil distilled from the leaves, Haldotar reached into her pack and retrieved a massive leather tome. One of a set she paid top dollar for, detailing the latest and everything to do with current medical knowledge and practice. Thumbing at first to the red bookmark… then the green when she remembered the red bookmark wasn’t about medical plant use but the treatment of muscle issues. Going over once more the many benefits of eucalyptus oils, from helping the respiratory system with its vapors to skin care benefits by easing dry skin. One of several new things she learned about the plant she one thought herself so familiar with, and that went with many more hanging on her walls to make oils to make medicine from.

The blonde-returned-redhead struggled to think in so short a time she had embraced the role of a healer. She knew she hadn’t needed to learn the intricacies of medicine, how it worked and how they made it. She didn’t intend on getting any kind of certification or calling herself a doctor by any means.

But with the pale white stone that now adorned her necklace most days, it only felt right to be able to help more than what aetheric manipulation allowed. The soul of the sage was knowledge, after all. Curiosity and the drive to improve one’s skills, so the stone whispered to her. After so long of denying that talent of healing and wanting to in the way that felt most natural, she couldn't resist diving into the practice head first. Plus, it gave her quite a boon, learning new weak spots of the human body. Her fighting with the nouliths would certainly be more effective once she finished her study of the mortal form…

But those thoughts had to wait, as the beaker of eucalyptus oil finally filled with its last drop. With careful hands, she took the beaker to another bench and set to work making a mixture with it, and wax, and other things to turn it into a rub for the chest and lips. Then she would make cough drops. And then some soap.

All while never losing a content, happy look in her eyes. Unaware of how bright pride shone in her eyes.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #ffxivwrite #my writing #ff14 #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fic

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mailordertrees · 2 months

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Why Eucalyptus Trees Are a Great Addition to Your Garden

Eucalyptus trees, with their striking appearance and versatile uses, have become increasingly popular among gardeners and landscapers. Known for their aromatic foliage, rapid growth, and various health benefits, eucalyptus trees are more than just aesthetically pleasing. This article explores why eucalyptus trees are a great addition to your garden and how to find eucalyptus trees for sale that suit your needs.

Aesthetic Appeal

Eucalyptus trees are renowned for their beautiful, silver-blue leaves and peeling bark that reveal colorful patterns. Their unique appearance can add a touch of elegance and exotic charm to any garden. Whether planted as a solitary specimen or in groups, eucalyptus trees create a stunning visual impact that can transform your outdoor space.

Fast Growth Rate

One of the most significant advantages of eucalyptus trees is their rapid growth rate. These trees can grow several feet per year, providing quick results for those looking to establish a mature garden in a short period. This rapid growth also makes eucalyptus trees an excellent choice for creating privacy screens or windbreaks.

Aromatic and Medicinal Properties

Eucalyptus leaves are famous for their aromatic oils, which have been used for centuries in traditional medicine. The oil extracted from eucalyptus leaves is known for its antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties, making it a popular ingredient in cough drops, inhalants, and topical ointments. Having a eucalyptus tree in your garden allows you to enjoy these natural aromas and potentially harvest leaves for medicinal purposes.

Environmental Benefits

Eucalyptus trees are not only beneficial for their beauty and health properties but also for the environment. These trees are known for their ability to absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen, helping to improve air quality. Additionally, their dense foliage provides habitat and food for various wildlife species, contributing to biodiversity.

Versatility in Landscaping

Eucalyptus trees are incredibly versatile and can be used in various landscaping designs. They can be pruned to maintain a desired shape and size, making them suitable for small gardens as well as large landscapes. Eucalyptus trees can also be planted in pots, allowing for flexibility in placement and mobility.

Low Maintenance

Once established, eucalyptus trees are relatively low maintenance. They are drought-tolerant and can thrive in a variety of soil types, making them suitable for different climates and conditions. Regular pruning and occasional watering during dry spells are usually sufficient to keep these trees healthy and thriving.

Finding Eucalyptus Trees for Sale

When looking for eucalyptus trees for sale, it is essential to choose a reputable supplier that offers healthy, well-established plants. Online nurseries like Mail Order Trees provide a wide selection of eucalyptus trees suitable for different climates and garden sizes. Purchasing from a reliable source ensures that you receive high-quality trees that will thrive in your garden.

Planting and Care Tips

To ensure the successful growth of your eucalyptus trees, consider the following planting and care tips:

Location: Choose a sunny location with well-draining soil. Eucalyptus trees prefer full sun but can tolerate partial shade.

Planting: Dig a hole twice the width and depth of the tree’s root ball. Place the tree in the hole, backfill with soil, and water thoroughly.

Watering: Water regularly during the first year to establish the root system. Once established, eucalyptus trees are drought-tolerant and require minimal watering.

Pruning: Prune regularly to maintain the desired shape and size. Remove any dead or damaged branches to promote healthy growth.

Mulching: Apply a layer of mulch around the base of the tree to retain moisture and suppress weeds.

Conclusion

Eucalyptus trees are an excellent addition to any garden, offering aesthetic appeal, rapid growth, and numerous environmental benefits. Their aromatic and medicinal properties add an extra dimension of value, making them a worthwhile investment for any gardener. When searching for eucalyptus trees for sale, be sure to choose a reputable supplier to ensure you receive healthy, thriving plants.

#eucalyptus trees for sale

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