#how do I start seeds indoors?

[fordragonfliesandme]

Get a Head Start on Gardening: Top Seed Selections for January Planting

Introduction to January gardening Well it’s that time of year… the time I get extremely giddy & excited. It’s seed ordering time! I love flipping through the pages and seeing what new varieties of beautiful heirlooms are available and what I’ll try this year. If you’ve been watching my Facebook & Instagram pages, you’ll have seen all the NEW cherry tomatoes I plan on growing this year for my…

[balkanradfem]

A woman shows you all kinds of containers that to and don't work for raising little transplants inside of your home! And she's right and I agree with her.

[turtlesandfrogs]

Ok, now I'm really concerned that how to prevent rats isn't common knowledge like I thought it was. So, to anyone whose parents/guardians/adults didn't teach you, here's the basics of prevention*:

Rats, like you, need three things: food, water, and shelter. If they don't get these things, they don't bother sticking around. Access to food is probably the biggest draw, and the one you can do the most about.

Rats eat the same foods you do, and the same food that most pets eat. You don't want them to have access to this food, so:

Don't leave dirty dishes laying around, the smell will attract rats. Don't put leave dirty dishes in your bed room, or under the couch, or in your car, or whatever. Dishwashers are great, but if you don't have a functional one, and you're low on energy/executive function, at a minimum cover your dirty dishes with soapy water instead of leaving them out. Rats can't eat soapy food.

Work to minimize food waste, because the smell of tasty food in your compost or garbage will attract rats.

Don't put food scraps in your indoor garbage unless your garbage can is rat proof. Take it outside asap, to a rat-proof bin.

When composting, if you're composting food that would be attractive to rats (grains, fats/oils, dairy, meat) it's best to: bury the food down in the center of the pile, try out bokashi composting, or have a rat-proof composter. Generally people do tell you not to compost dairy and meat, but I do know that some people do it anyway.

Keep your grains & legumes in rodent proof-containers. Glass jars, metal trash cans, etc.

If you have dogs, put their food away at night. If you have birds or other animals that eat a seed-based diet, then it pays to make their food/enclosures inaccessible to rats as well. Cats are rat deterrents so leaving dry food out for them is probably the one exception.

Clean up spilled foods immediately.

If you have fruit trees (like those apple trees everyone has that were planted 3 or more decades ago) and notice that something besides a deer is eating them, it's really best to pick all the fruit. You probably can't eat it all, so giving it away is a good option. Compost the rotten/icky ones fallowing the advice above, or dig a hole and do some trench composting.

Rats also need water, which is another reason to make sure you don't have any leaks anywhere, and to not leave beverages out in open containers.

Beyond that, thoroughly looking around your house, inside and out, to make sure there's no access points. Vents can be covered with wire mesh, holes the size of a dime need to be patched (because mice exist, too). Keep vegetation clear from around the base of your house, and make sure there's no trees or shrubs growing close enough to your house that a rat could make the leap to your roof. Keep an eye out for tunnels near your house's foundation, because they will tunnel underneath.

Also, while I'm at it, for the love of your house's structural integrity, DO NOT store wood piles against your house. Termites people!!!

And yes, there's a reason why cats are such a common pet. Not only do they hunt rats, the very smell of a cat is enough to deter rats. Do not just get a cat for rat prevention though, only get a cat if you're going to provide it a good home and are able to take on the additional care tasks without over extending yourself. Getting a housemate that comes with a cat is a great alternative to getting your own cat (and I'm only halfway joking).

*because prevention is much easier and much less terrible than dealing with an infestation. Prevention is so, so, so much easier than getting rid of them, particularly because once they're there, they'll start eating other things that wouldn't have been enough by themselves to draw them in.

[robin-evry]

Hiiiiiii !!!! Could I please ask for half-flower (rose) yuu? ♡

Sure thing, ask and you shall receive

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇 🌹🥀

A nymph (Ancient Greek: νύμφη, romanized: nýmphē; Attic Greek: [nýmpʰɛː]; sometimes spelled nymphe) is a minor female nature deity in ancient Greek folklore. Distinct from other Greek goddesses, nymphs are generally regarded as personifications of nature; they are typically tied to a specific place, landform, or tree, and are usually depicted as maidens.

I know this isn't what you ask for, but I decided to modify it a little to have a little background, I chose nymph due to them being a personification of nature, so this yuu will be a nymph that is the personification of the flower rose

( English is not my first language )

Yuu's appearance is deeply tied to the rose motif. They have half of their body adorned with intricate rose patterns, where thorny vines twist elegantly along with their skin, possibly wrapping around their arms and legs.

They are calm and nurturing like a flower in full bloom, but if someone harms those they care about, they reveal her "thorny" side, becoming sharp-tongued and quick to defend themselve and others.

They are the embodiment of the rose—elegant, serene, and welcoming to those who approach them with kindness. They value harmony, often seeking to create peace among those around them, much like how a rose beautifies its surroundings. However, like the thorned stem of the flower, they have a sharp edge. They are fiercely protective of their friends and can be quite intimidating when someone threatens them.

When they walk past the surroundings with plants, flowers or roses start to bloom out of nowhere since they have a connection to nature. Become NRC affocial gardener

Regardless they are actually very good at gardening, when Crowley was visiting ramshackle he saw that ramshackle is like a green house rich with beautiful plants, instead of a run down shack it looks like a rich and bountiful house that are filled with flowers around it making it beautiful. Soon they were hired to be a gardener including a paycheck for them.

And it did not disappoint, the school became a lot more popular, the school has become a much nicer place than RSA, the film research club usually films scenes that takes place in forest or an area field with flowers in exchange of not damaging the flowers, even some famous brands, photographer etc do their photo or filming in NRC, Crowley managed to double the amount the his getting but 80% of the money was given to yuu.

During some time epel ask half flower!yuu to help him with the trees in his village, since their grandparents have apple trees and it been getting hard to maintain. As well to use their natural ability to turn dead trees into flourishing apple trees.

Each winter, they're powers and energy slowly begin to dwindle as the weather turns colder. Much like how roses enter dormancy during the winter season, they also withdraw from their usual lively state. Their body and magic are tied to nature, so they require this period of rest to rejuvenate their powers. During hibernation, the rose vines that adorn their body recede slightly.

This hibernation period usually lasts from late fall until the first signs of spring. During this time, their personality becomes quieter, more introspective. They tend to avoid conflict, conserving their energy by staying indoors and using her magic sparingly. However, even in this dormant state, their thorns remain sharp, ready to defend themselves and others if necessary.

Since they're connected to plants and nature, they have the ability to manipulate any plant similar to poison ivy powers but the drawback they are unable to create plants, only be able to only existing resources.

Example : during the savanaclaw arc, they were unable to manipulate plants due to the lack of plants or nature in the area. So they carried a sack of seeds In case of this situation.

They're floral pheromones can calm, soothe, or subtly influence others. At NRC, they uses this ability carefully, often to de-escalate conflicts before they spiral out of control. In dangerous situations, they can amplify the effect to create an overwhelming sense of peace, putting their opponents into a dazed or passive state.

In ramshackle, there's a small garden filled with rare flowers, and some students found half flower!yuu tending the flowers during their free time and if any students pluck their flowers without permission or destroy it, they will dangle by the leg upside down for half an hour.

Their dorm room is a sanctuary of its own, filled with potted plants, vines, and roses that respond to their presence. It has a calming atmosphere, with the faint scent of roses always lingering in the air. Friends often visit their room for peace and quiet when the chaos of NRC becomes overwhelming, knowing that their plants will offer comfort and protection. They've become known for her green thumb, and their room is a hidden oasis amid the more chaotic, dark environment of the school.

They are also knowledgeable about biology on plants. During their free time if a student manages to come in contact with their dangerous plants, they will create an antitude for the situation. They are also excellent pharmacists.

Classes like potionolgy are extremely easy for them, one of Mr crewel star pupal. Some students seek for them for their guidance on the subject

Them and Vil share an appreciation for beauty and elegance. Vil respects their natural grace and sees her as a symbol of refined strength. They bond over skincare, fashion, and the art of presentation, though Vil sometimes wishes they would embrace a more high-maintenance beauty routine. meanwhile, they enjoy Vil's dedication to perfection but reminds him that even roses have imperfections that make them unique.

Also they usually have a sun bath, they will lay in the ramshackle ground wearing a sun glass and enjoy the sunlight.

They are also to be described as very confident and brash by people, described by people as their thorn side even tho that people said this side is ugly, half-flower!yuu would ignore them due to them loving both sides of themselves and always be true to themselves.

Even tho people see them as a kind and brash person, they are also very judgemental immediately judging people's fashion sense, during their first meeting with ace, in their head they are judging his uniform and hairstyle. They also had a very sharp tongue immediately roasting the first years during their first meeting.

[mikavlcs]

Flowers

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Wednesday’s plan to court you is thwarted by an unforeseen issue.

Warnings: allergies(?), an inability to write good kiss scenes, the tone for this one is kinda all over the place tbh but it’s just fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: this is a request for my mother, hope you enjoy<3 (also i know nothing about flowers, all information is from google. hopefully i didn’t piss off the gardening fandom lol)

Masterlist

Frustration was nothing new to Wednesday.

To her woeful dismay, she experienced it almost constantly. During the day when imbeciles in the halls with no concept of an indoor voice spoke loud enough to be heard by the entire school. In the evenings when Enid’s obnoxious pop music was loud enough that she could hear it through her headphones. When she was on the cusp of solving another mystery and suddenly her leads went cold.

No, Wednesday was no stranger to frustration. But the type of frustration she was feeling now was completely new to her.

Because, usually, Wednesday could find a reason for her frustrations.

Her fellow students acted idiotic because they were Neanderthals. Enid, though a werewolf with heightened senses, was unaware of just how loud her music was at times. Periods of inactivity during a case typically either meant that she was missing something (unlikely) or that she needed to wait for her target to make their next move.

There were always reasons. Cause and effect. A perfect balance for her logical brain to understand—even if she didn’t like the answers in place. But no, not this time.

This time, there were seemingly no reasons for what you were doing. No matter how much she thought about it, no reasoning that her mind put forth made sense. It was simply impossible. Like trying to solve a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle in the dark.

And it was especially maddening because, by all accounts, she had done everything right.

Wednesday had plans to court you. She was initially going to do something traditional like hand-deliver you the heart of one of your enemies, but Enid was repulsed when she found out about these plans. Instead, her roommate insisted that flowers were a much better substitute.

Initially, Wednesday thought it was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard, and she still thought the idea of a “secret admirer” was moronic at best. But the idea of expressing her revolting feelings through the language of the Earth’s flora…undeniably enticing.

So she begrudgingly began to put together a plan.

(Wednesday did not, however, inform Enid of this. She refused to give the werewolf the satisfaction.)

She was originally going to start small. A posy of Black Dahlias, maybe, or a small vase of Hydrangeas. But she supposed she got a bit…carried away.

It was demeaning honestly, how much effort she was putting into something so stupid. Getting seeds from her mother, finding a secluded place to plant and tend to them, breaking into your locker during the early hours of the morning so no one could witness just how low she was stooping for you. She put weeks into this nonsense.

And all of that time and effort culminated in you throwing the flowers away.

Every. Single Time.

Actually, no—it was worse than you just throwing them out. Every time you opened your locker and saw the flowers, you leaped back as if you had found a bomb amongst your things. You immediately, without even inspecting them or trying to decipher their intended message, took the flowers and disposed of them in the nearest trash can.

She didn’t understand it. Whatsoever.

Especially because they were good flowers. Expertly grown and cared for, picked in the early morning to make sure they stayed fresh for as long as possible. She even made sure they had contextually appropriate meanings to try and get her emotions across without words.

Her first foray into this madness was a bouquet of black roses, to tell you that she would die for you if given the chance. Then the next day, an arrangement of orange lilies to represent how she was willing to humiliate herself for you (clearly). The next, a black vase of Deadly Nightshade, simply because it was a personal favorite of hers.

There was an array of others as days passed—the aforementioned Black Dahlias and Hydrangeas, black petunias, red tulips, and yellow carnations. There was a superstition that Chrysanthemums brought bad luck and terrible nightmares, so naturally, she gave you those as well.

(She had considered giving you Aconites to signify the hatred that wished she felt for you, but given the fact that they were poisonous, she decided against it. As much as she yearned to poison someone in this godforsaken school, she didn’t wish to see you suffer that fate. Yet.)

Hell, she had even turned to the likes of red roses and sunflowers when she saw the negative reception to her first picks, but they all ended up in the same place: the trash can at the end of the hall.

It was torturous. Because Wednesday knew you returned her affections, she had known for a while. She originally thought it a burden, a weakness for her to potentially exploit until she made the startling discovery that she returned your wretched feelings.

So the idea that she might have misconstrued something she thought to be incredibly obvious made her physically ill. The implication that she was…incorrect tormented her.

There were few things Wednesday hated more than being wrong.

But one thing she was beginning to despise more was the feeling in her chest whenever she saw her flowers in that trash can. You were making her feel something she prided herself on never feeling: defeat. And she was tired of it.

Wednesday refused to sit by and allow you to make a fool out of her from the shadows for any longer. Enid’s stupid plan be damned.

She was going to find you and she was going to get answers. Whether it was quick and easy or slow and painful was entirely up to you.

-

Finding you in the Nevermore library was unsurprising.

You went there often to read and recharge your “social battery” when needed. And it seemed like now was one of those times. You sat silently with your eyes trained on a book in front of you, the headphones covering your ears turned up so loud she could hear the faint hum of your music from across the room.

It was clear that you didn’t want to be disturbed. Unfortunately, Wednesday did not care.

She stalked up behind you quietly, resting her hand on your shoulder once she was within arm’s reach of you. Wednesday took far too much joy in the way you quite literally jumped out of your seat. The sudden movement sent the chair backward into Wednesday, who easily caught it and settled it back into its original position.

Breathless, you spun around, eyes widening when you saw who it was.

“Wednesday, wha-“

“Why do you always throw them away?”

You blinked owlishly. Once, twice, then spoke. “What?”

“The flowers,” she clarified, impatience creeping into her tone, “why do you always throw them away? Did you not like them?”

Wednesday could tell you wanted to ask why she wanted to know about this, but thankfully you were smart enough to answer her questions before asking any of your own. 

“Well, n-no. I didn’t dislike them. They were pretty flowers.”

The admission did nothing to comfort Wednesday, whose patience was running incredibly thin. Still, she kept her tone as neutral as possible.

“Then what was the issue? Why throw them out?”

“Well-it’s just…” you paused, cheeks darkening as you mumbled something incomprehensible. Wednesday blinked.

“What was that?”

You sighed.

“I’m allergic.”

Oh.

Well, she supposed that made sense. It certainly explained why you reacted the way you did whenever you saw the flowers in your locker. Her prior anger melted away, understanding slowly replacing it.

She thought back to her earlier musings, the dark irony nearly made her smile. The flowers really were, for all intents and purposes, an allergen bomb. 

Wednesday noticed a moment later that you were still speaking.

“-not technically life-threatening or anything. I just get itchy and my eyes water, although my throat does start to close up if I’m around them for too long, but it’s usually pretty manageable. It happens around most plant life. That’s why I transferred out of Botany class. Principal Weems thinks it might be a pollen allergy but I’m not sure-“

Your rambling would be (barely) tolerable under any other circumstance, but right now Wednesday just wanted to express the feelings that had been plaguing her for months on end.

“It was me.”

That effectively shut you up. She watched patiently as the gears turned in your head, the words that came out your mouth not quite keeping up with the realization she saw in your eyes. “What?”

“I put the flowers in your locker. To inform you of my…feelings,” she said, disdain creeping into her voice at the end.

You looked positively devastated. “Oh, Wednesday, I’m-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to look like I didn’t like the flowers or didn’t appreciate the gesture. I like you, Wednesday. I really do. I-“

With a sharp inhale, you cut yourself off and look away. Concerned, Wednesday’s brows furrowed. Before she could properly investigate the issue, you looked back to her, a question in your eyes that she couldn’t decipher before you said it aloud.

“Can I hug you?”

The smaller girl blinked. She, admittedly, wasn’t expecting that to be your question.

Wednesday wasn’t one for physical affection, but she found herself stepping forward before she could think better of it. And when she felt your arms settle around her, gently pushing her against you, she couldn’t muster even an ounce of regret.

She didn’t return your embrace—she had a reputation to uphold, after all—but she did lean into you, turning her face into your neck and closing her eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Your apology is accepted,” she whispered against the nape of your neck. Your shoulders relaxed against her, but your grip tightened.

“I still feel really guilty.”

Wednesday tilted her head up slightly to meet your eyes, brows furrowing. “Guilty for what? I practically tried to kill you.”

“Unknowingly,” you added, a smile pulling at your lips. “Though, it would have been fitting for you.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

Wednesday stepped back, eyes traveling down to your lips. A split-second decision was made, the words falling from her lips before she even realized what she was doing.

“Kiss me.”

Part of Wednesday wanted to be laid to rest right then and there, the humiliation she had felt before returning with a vengeance. But another part just wanted you to comply, to sate the curiosity she’d been fighting for months now.

Somehow, you managed to look more shocked than she felt.

“W-What?” you stuttered, eyes wide and mouth partially agape as if what Wednesday just said was the most preposterous thing you had ever heard.

“I said kiss me,” she stated with a confidence she didn’t fully feel. You swallowed.

“I-uh, are you sure?”

You shifted on your feet, still unsure. Wednesday nearly sighed again.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

That seemed to be enough for you to finally act. Timidly, you brought your hands up to cup her face, your touch lighter than a feather on her skin. Your wide eyes never strayed from hers and she stared back in hopes of speeding up your glacial pace. To her chagrin, it seemed to have no effect.

You leaned in agonizingly slowly, likely to give her ample time to pull away if she changed her mind. But Wednesday didn’t have the patience for your kindness. So she took the initiative to lean up and pressed her lips to yours, her eyes fluttering closed upon contact.

It was both everything and nothing like Wednesday thought it would be.

Kissing you wasn’t anything like the dumb things Enid said to describe kissing Ajax (she loathed the fact that she even knew any of that in the first place). There weren’t any fireworks or godforsaken butterflies or any other insipid romance cliché her roommate was obsessed with.

It was soft, slow, and utterly addicting. Even more so than she predicted it would be. She knew long before this moment that the press of your lips to hers would be her downfall, and like usual, she was correct.

Everything about your kiss was ethereal—the warmth that encompassed her from head to toe, the tenderness in the way your lips moved against hers, the feeling of your thumb lovingly stroking her cheek. She knew that she would crave it from this moment forward.

In mere moments, her senses were completely overtaken by nothing but you. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and she savored it for as long you would allow.

Wednesday stepped back only when air became an unfortunate necessity for the both of you. After a long moment, she dared to open her eyes and look at you. Your eyes were still closed, lips slightly parted as you regained your breath. A light flush crept onto your face, tinting your skin a light shade of red and though Wednesday didn’t care for color, she liked the way it looked on you.

“One more thing,” she muttered when she finally regained a fragment of her composure. You blinked back into awareness, a sweet smile tugging at your lips, complimenting the light blush on your face quite nicely. 

“What’s that?” you whispered into the space between you.

“You must go on an…outing with me.”

“An outing?” Your face scrunched lightly. Then you gasped softly, eyes alight with something far too exuberant. “Do you mean a date?”

Wednesday cringed, breathing a quiet sigh through her nose. She stepped back to fully look at you, and you let her, dropping your hands back to your sides. Momentarily, she mourned the loss of your touch.

“You may call it whatever you want as long as I get to choose the location.”

“Alright, and where do you want this date to take place?” you inquired, smile a little too sly for Wednesday’s liking. But she simply grinned.

“The morgue. I’ve been itching to perform a proper autopsy lately. It’ll be nice to have a partner with all of their limbs.”

She watched the color drain from your face with a bit too much amusement. To your credit, you regained your composure faster than she thought you would.

“Ok, y-yeah, sure,” you stammered, eyes darting around the library. Wednesday’s eyebrows shot up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally.” You straightened up, taking an audible gulp as you tried your best to look unbothered. Her grin grew at the sight.

“Then I will pick you up from your dorm at 9:30 tomorrow night, got it?”

“Yep.” You nodded. She turned to leave but stopped.

She knew she should leave but…

Turning back on her heel, Wednesday grabbed your blazer and pulled your lips back to hers for one more kiss. This one was harder than the last, sure to noticeably bruise, but it was no less satisfying. Actually, the feeling of your body pressed flush against hers made it even more pleasant, she decided.

She allowed herself a moment to revel in your warmth, your taste again before stepping back and meeting your dazed eyes.

“See you tomorrow.”

Without another glance, Wednesday exited the library. The small smile on her face didn’t waver the entire journey back to her dorm. Not even when she passed the trashcan with all of her flowers.

If anything, her smile only widened at the promise of what was to come.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 21

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

If I cleared the final trial on the robin growth map, then I would formally be Roger’s lover—

While I was excited about this new goal set for me, I was ignorant to the seed of sorrow that was sprouting.

Alfons: I wonder if that man’s revealed something important to Kate.

Elbert: Something important?

Alfons: The cost that comes with that man’s egoistic way of life.

Despite the lack of wind indoors, the curtains far down another hall fluttered.

Jude: …

Alfons and Elbert didn’t see the other man walking away.

--

—Roger and I started working making an antidote for the condemned.

Roger: Here’s the research materials I took back from the doctors and Privy Council.

I couldn’t help but feel relieved to see that all the files were back safely.

(Roger’s been seeking after this important information since he was a child. It’s basically his life…)

First learning about the Cursed while going through his father’s research at the clinic, interacting with the cursed Alec, and then, being cursed himself, joined Crown. 

These materials on his desk held his life’s work.

Roger: We can make an antidote with this.

Kate: Yes.

I held my breath as the means of condemnation began to form in Roger’s hands.

Roger: First—

Kate: If it’s the drug written in this note, then I already got the chemical from storage. I’ve disinfected all the equipment we’ll need too!

Roger’s eyes widened at how I had already prepared everything without being prompted to.

Roger: …O_O

Afterward—He ruffled my hair like usual.

Kate: Woah…That’s enough!

(I say that, but I still smile with happiness…)

Roger: I give praise when it’s due. That’s my policy. As expected from my dog, assistant, and partner. Hmm, you’re growing into quite the good man.

Naturally, I couldn’t be happier hearing that.

Kate: It’s not like I'm doing this for you, Roger.

I was aware that a grin was forming as I talked back.

Roger: Who’s the one wagging her tail here when she gets praise and a pat on the head.

Kate: I-I don’t have a tail!

Whether I want it to or not, our banter tickled my heart.

(He can give such a sweet smile, but he doesn’t make it easy for me to become his lover)

(I’m curious about what Roger’s “Final Trial” is about)

(Regardless of what it is, I’ll clear it!)

I pumped myself up…but then I realized something.

(That’s right. I want to be Roger’s lover)

When we first met, Roger didn’t believe in love while I was the opposite, so I didn’t think we’d ever fall in love.

(...Now Roger is all that’s on my mind)

Roger: What’s with that cute look? You thinking about me?

…Yes. +4 +4

Don’t be so conceited.

N-no reason!

Roger: No excuses this time?

Kate: Because I don’t have one…

Roger: *sigh* Damn it, I’d love to just make love to you.

Kate: …

I remembered the feeling of Roger’s lips, fingers, and his burning hot…The blush I thought had died down came back.

Roger: But abandoning everything for that would be a waste. I’ll just have to enjoy it after everything’s taken cared of.

(...That’s enough)

I covered my burning face with my hands and Roger chuckled.

Roger: Besides, it doesn’t sound like it’s just gonna be the two of us any longer. —I can hear them outside the door. Ellis and Liam.

(Huh?)

As if on cue, two embarrassed faces appeared from the other side of the door.

Liam: We were just waiting for the right time to see if you needed help…Are we interrupting something?

Ellis: You can go ahead and kiss or do something more if you want. We don’t mind.

(T-they heard everything!)

Kate: You two might not care, but I do!

As I said that, I smacked a grinning Roger on the back.

Kate: Let’s get back to making the antidote!

Roger: …Ow!

And so…Roger and I continued refining the antidote. 

We kept ourselves in the basement for several days, slowly losing our sense of time, and Crown’s members each took turns to check up on us.

--

Liam: Kate, Roger! How’s the research going? Wow, those are some dark circles you two got there.

Ellis: Are you alright? Have you been sleeping?

Kate: Yeah, we’ve been taking turns sleeping so we’re fine.

--

Some were concerned, while others brought food…

Victor: I brought my special meat pies. They’re very nutritious and you can eat them with one hand! And here’s lemonade. I’m assuming you’re still abstaining from alcohol?

With everyone’s encouragement, we were able to refine the antidote while referencing the materials. 

—But every time we got a step closer.

Roger: …Ah, this isn’t it. It’s incompatible.

Something was stopping us from finishing the antidote.

(Roger looks so troubled…)

Kate: …What’s wrong with it?

Roger: The doctors and the Privy Council used my formulation documents. If they followed it, then we should be able to make an antidote. Doesn’t seem to be the case though.

Kate: …Maybe there’s something not in your documents that they included.

Roger: Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking…Did they combine my research with “someone else’s”? Hmm, I don’t know!

Roger scratched his head in frustration…and then leapt out of his chair.

Roger: Alright, let’s take a break, Kate.

Kate: Hehe, I agree!

I looked up at the sky for the first time in days and saw the full moon shining as bright as daylight.

--

Kate: Wow, it’s so bright out. And we haven’t had such a big meal in days!

The food laid out on the table was all prepared by Roger—

From liberally seasoned chips to chicken stew to a calorie-dense dessert of biscuits stuffed with chocolate and cream…*

All of these dishes were appetizing to the exhausted mind and body.

Roger: Eat your heart out.

Kate: Okay, thank you for the meal…! Mmm, it’s delicious! I don’t know what seasonings you used, but the unique taste is really addicting!

Roger: The stew’s really tasty too. It’s a Barel family favorite.

(Roger said he has four younger siblings)

(Perhaps he helped his mother out with housework in place of his busy father)

Kate: You’re pretty good at cooking meals for Ale, so were you in charge of cooking back at home?

Roger: Something like that. I took up cooking so that I could eat what I wanted. As you know, food’s necessary when fighting against despair.

(Ah…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger:  I know you got a lot of things on your mind that make you anxious. But it’s times like these where you gotta work on yourself. Eat, sleep, play, laugh, recharge your energy. Otherwise you’ll easily get swallowed up by despair in this darkness, lil’ lady.

~~ Flashback end ~~

…I remembered the first time Roger took me to a bar.

Roger: Eat whatever you want, as much as you want. Human brains should be releasing happy hormones.

Kate: Oh, so it’s my brain doing that? I thought I was happy because I was full.

Roger: There’s also a thing called the satiety center**...Oh, Jude. Want some?

I looked back and saw Jude about to enter the dining room.

Jude: Some strange people actin’ so carefree while eatin’. I don’t want this souvenir, so here.

He tossed a stack of papers onto the table.

Kate: …What is this?

Jude: That guy will know.

I looked over at Roger and saw him staring at the stack of papers.

Roger: This is…

Seeing how surprised he was, I followed his gaze and saw— 

Kate: Research Material on the Cursed. Researcher, Alexander Taylor. Are these Alec’s research materials? Really…?

Roger: Yeah, it definitely is. It’s Alec’s handwriting. Back then his research materials were confiscated by the police. Jude, how’d you get this?

Jude: Make no mistake. Just a souvenir I stumbled on and didn’t want. Those guys at Gracefield Royal Hospital that’re close with the Privy Council were pretty helpful. They did a lotta schemin’ to get drugs for their research. They dunno who’s turf they’re on.

Apparently they incurred another’s wrath.

(Let’s not ask for more details…)

Roger: So with their crimes exposed, you took the chance to enter Gracefield Royal Hospital. Then you found Alec’s research and brought it back? I already told ya it was a coincidence. Not repeatin’ myself again, quack.

(If we compare the materials here to the results of the antidote we were refining…)

Kate: Roger, it’s possible that…!

Roger: Yeah, those guys combined mine and Alec’s research materials to synthesize a drug that would get rid of curses.

Kate: I thought so! Then with this research material,

Roger: We can make an antidote. …Never thought I’d meet Alec in some way “again”.

Roger looked happy, like he met an old friend.

Kate: Thank you, Jude!

Jude: So annoying. Thanks don’t amount to anythin’. I’m feelin’ thirsty.

Kate: Eh?

Jude: Fetch a drink for the guy who saved the day, will ya? 

(Normally I would have talked back)

Kate: Got it! Please wait a moment.

--

I borrowed a bottle of wine from the kitchen and headed back to the dining room.

(After this, we’ll finally finish the antidote)

There was a pep in my step as I felt a ray of hope in my chest.

(Also…I’m glad Alec’s research wasn’t used for some weird purpose)

There’s no doubt Alec had the same ambitions as Roger while researching the Cursed.

If Alec’s materials had been used for ill intentions, Roger would feel the most anger.

Roger getting hurt was more heart-aching than getting hurt myself.

(That’s why I’m gl—)

Jude: —You’ve been shortenin’ your lifespan by testin’ on yourself.

(—Huh?)

-

*chips being french fries and biscuits being cookies here

**Satiety center: The ventromedial nucleus of the hypothalamus, which signals fullness

[homeofhousechickens]

What are some things to know for people looking to get pigeons? I'm looking for places to do more research on what care they need, what they would need for an enclosure, and where to look into getting food for them. I don't know much about their care at the moment, but I'm looking into it in other places as well. How many do you need to have for their need for socialization with their own species to be met and how much do they socialize with humans?

They would have access to one floor of the house which is carpeted. I would be hesitant to allow them outside because my nextdoor neighbor has an indoor/outdoor cat and I've seen hawks in the area. I'm renting, but I would be fine with just doing a deep clean when I move out. The main concern this fact brings up is the fact that I can't build a coop outside

I mean I feel like a single pigeon that's been socialized with people can be quite happy by itself if it has the personaloty for it but a pair can also be happy to interact with the human family.

I don't advocate for letting pigeons free fly for a lot of reasons I know others disagree but it's just not for me. If I had an outdoor loft I'd probably have a big run or bird netting over an area for them to fly around in.

Pigeons aren't very picky about food they are grainivores so a diet of a variety of seeds and legumes is good and they need oyster shell and enriched grit which you can get off and pigeon oriented website typically.

I suggest joining the companion pigeon discord chat they have a care guide and lots of people to give advice about pigeons. They would be a better resource since you need a lot of information

https://discord.com/invite/cpc

There also might be older folks in your local area who have pigeon experience or keep pigeons just ask around and check Facebook. They don't always have the best loft hygiene and animal welfare but it doesn't hurt to get to know people so you can find the good people. Pigeon shows in your area is also a good place to start.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Proposal

Part One of Three Years

Masterlist | Year One

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.

Length: 4.3K

Notes: ....Hi! This is the first of 2-3 fic drops. I'm hoping to push all five chapters of this fic out this weekend. Also I started writing this before the current AI market explosion. Not beta-read. Never beta-read.

Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan

Summary: He’s shorter than you thought he’d be.

Nathan Bateman isn’t unattractive, or short, even, he’s just…Shorter. 

Of all of the things that you thought you’d feel about Nathan Bateman’s visit, surprised wasn’t what you thought would be first. Shit-scared, sure. Insanely nervous, absolutely. Surprised by his height? Not on your list.

“This could be huge for us.” 

Jenn looks at once desperate and wild-eyed as she paces in her office. You watch her closely, taking in the dark circles under her dark eyes. Her typically California-tan skin is pallid from her recent late nights, and her days spent indoors. The company is running her ragged—and this potential seed money from Nathan Bateman is throwing her into the craziest tizzy you’ve ever seen. She sweeps her hands through her frizzed auburn hair before she raises her nails to her mouth.

“I mean,” She mutters, continuing to pace, voice muffled as she chews her nails, “If we get Bateman’s backing, that’d be great, but if I can get him on the board.” She stops finally, turning to face you, lowering her chewed nails from her mouth. “That would send us into the fucking stratosphere.” 

“...Okay,” You sit up a touch. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you need to bring Jenn down from the fucking stratosphere. “Nathan Bateman has scheduled a meeting. Okay? A meeting. One,” You raise your finger. 

“He’s having his team go over our numbers—” 

“I know that. He’s doing the due diligence that anyone coming in would be expected to do. Just, don’t put all of your eggs in one basket when we haven’t even gotten the basket yet.” 

“Come on,” Jenn groans. “I could be the next Steve Jobs!” 

“Yes, you absolutely could. But if you keep putting your focus on the idea stuff and not on the structure and application stuff, you’re going to be the next Elizabeth Holmes. And honey, I love you, but you do not look good in orange.” 

Jenn deflates just a little, slouching back against the windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. 

“...It clashes with my hair,” She grumbles. 

“I’m not saying don’t be excited at all," You insist, "I’m just saying…We’re bringing him in to talk about financing. How freaked out would you be if you went on a first date with someone and instead of asking for a second date, they said, Hey this was fun, let’s get married.”

“...Pretty freaked.” 

“Right. And asking someone to join the board is like a business-y 3.5 carat pear cut diamond on an infinity band. So. Let's schedule an All Hands, give the team a heads up, get them prepped. Before that, though, we need to get you some fucking lunch and some sunshine.” 

“You’re my sunshine.” 

“Awww,” You coo before you get up, adding, “Seriously. Get your phone and your sunglasses, we’re going out.” 

“But I have an email from prod—” 

“Production about the user profile settings set to drop at the end of the week. I know, I answered it already. Phone. Sunglasses. Lunch. Let’s go.” 

"You'll be here, right?"

You frown, shaking your head in slight confusion, and Jenn clarifies: "For his tour. You'll be here?"

You consider, glancing at your phone. If you can get the time off—but that's no guarantee.

"I'll try."

--  

When Jenn started Sc(ai)le three years ago, you’d had no idea that it would take off the way it would. You knew that Jenn was brilliant, you’d never had a doubt about that. But you couldn’t have anticipated how quickly varying industries moved to scale AI. Jenn had assembled a team of engineers, scientists, and sales reps. She trusts her teams, and they work hard to keep the company in motion.

But Jenn still insists in being very much hands-on everywhere she possibly can, sometimes to hers and the company’s detriment. She needs a Chief Knowledge officer, a Chief Information officer, and a Chief Marketing officer. She has a Chief Tech officer, a Chief Financial officer, a Chief Compliance officer, a Chief Data officer—all incredibly knowledgeable in their fields. She wants a board, too, but you’re worried that the company may still be too young for it. 

You work with the SVP of Marketing now and again, helping her to manage the way marketing materials are created, where they’re stored, and how they’re distributed. You’re working with Sc(ai)le part-time, on a temporary basis (though it’s technically been ‘temporary’ since the company started). Jenn needs an official team, with people that can work with her full-fucking-time. You have a full-time job at a separate tech company, one that’s well away from the AI space. You’d been worried their hackles would be raised when you informed them that you’d be taking a part-time position elsewhere, but they hadn’t even flinched. 

Hell, your manager had asked you if you’d be able to get them an employee discount. You may just have to take a few days off for Bateman’s visit.

You don’t blame Jenn for being so excited, or so nervous. 

Nathan fucking Bateman? This is huge. 

But if both of you have your heads in the fucking clouds, neither of you are gonna make it out of orbit. So you’ll keep yourself grounded, and bring Jenn back down to Earth if you absolutely have to. 

-- 

He’s shorter than you thought he’d be.

Nathan Bateman isn’t unattractive, or short, even, he’s just…Shorter. 

Of all of the things that you thought you’d feel about Nathan Bateman’s visit, surprised wasn’t what you thought would be first. Shit-scared, sure. Insanely nervous, absolutely. Surprised by his height? Not on your list.

You glance over at Jenn to find her tipping her chin up, slapping on her I Should Be On the Cover of Forbes smile. It’s the smile that’s brought every other investor on board. It’s the smile that’s brought on every single team member in the company. Now, you can only hope that it’ll bring Nathan Bateman into her coffers.

Where you’d typically leave Jenn to finesse any other investor, you stick close by. You trail Bateman and Jenn by a few steps as she directs him around the offices, and the facility. 

He asks a fair number of questions. A few are unexpected, but for the most part, they’re things that you and Jenn had anticipated. The three of you come to a stop overlooking a row of engineers. You don’t want to appear nonchalant, but with Bateman and Jenn focused elsewhere, you allow yourself to lean back against the wall, eyeing the room. It’s then that you see an engineer flagging you down, a harried look on her face. You glance toward Bateman and Jenn’s heads and make sure they’re distracted before you push yourself off of the wall, skirting around the two and walking over to her as calmly as possible. 

“What’s up?” You ask, crouching down beside the engineer’s desk. 

“The marketing team sent through a brief about the user profiles—” 

“Uh-huh—” 

“And there’s an error regarding the, uh—The functionality.” 

“Okay. Where’s the problem, what’s the fix?” 

“Our systems are starting at Mac- or Blue-OS compatible.” 

“But not Windows?” 

“Most of the companies we use don’t touch Windows OS anymore.” 

“But we have got a few clients that do.” 

“Yes, we’re—We’re working on it. But this can’t go out like this, it’s not correct.” 

“Okay,” You nod, mind racing through the possible, necessary fixes. “Okay. Could I use your laptop for a second?” 

“Sure.” 

The engineer starts to stand, but you wave her back into her seat, just turn the laptop toward yourself. You hurriedly log into your email on a web page, and tap out an email to the marketing SVP. 

“Mac and Blue only,” You reiterate as you type. 

“—But not Windows, yep.” 

“Do we have an expected date on Windows functionality?” 

“Q2 of next year—Maybe Q1, but—” 

“We don’t wanna over-promise and underdeliver,” You shoot the engineer a smile. “I appreciate the honesty.” 

The engineer nods hurriedly. You feel her casting a glance behind you, but you’re already turning back to the laptop, practically hammering the keys as you send out the message. You lean back, reading and rereading the message before you CC your work email, Jenn’s, and the engineer in question. Then you send it, straighten up, and sign out of the email. 

“I’ve put myself and Jenn on the email, we will take it from here. Thank you so much for flagging that—And if anything comes up, please text, email, slack me. Anything.” 

“Thank you!” 

“No, thank you,” You insist, patting her shoulder. You straighten and turn, and freeze immediately at the sight of Jenn and Bateman standing just behind you. You swallow thickly, fighting to keep a straight face. 

“I didn’t mean to hold up the tour,” You apologize. “You guys could’ve moved on, I would’ve caught up.” 

“Everything alright?” Bateman asks, nodding toward the engineer. 

“Yes. Just a little communications update.” You give them both a reassured smile. “Why don’t we continue?” You add, nodding down the hall. 

--  

“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?” 

It’s a question that he should be asking Jenn, and that’s why your mouth works wordlessly, your brow furrowing heavily. It’s a bad look—Nathan Bateman has asked you a simple question, and you’re floundering like a landed fish. 

“Uh—Shoving something in the microwave, probably?” You manage with a shaky laugh as you put your laptop into your bag. You haven't been able to take the time off as much time as you’d hoped, and you’ll have to make up what time you have taken to keep yourself on track. “I’m working a double, so, I’ll get off shift around one in the morning.” 

“A double.” 

“...Yes? It’s when you work two shifts at—” 

“I know what a double is.” 

Jeez, of course he does. 

“Right. Sorry. You seemed—...Anyway.” 

“I seemed what?” 

Confused is the wrong word to use with this man. 

“Inquisitive?” You offer. Nathan’s brows tip impossibly higher, his chin angling down to gaze at you over the tops of his glasses. 

“One,” He finally confirms. “How’s 1:30 for you?” 

“For what?” 

“For dinner.” 

“I—I don’t think I’ve ever eaten dinner that late in my life. I don’t even go out that late anymore.” 

“But you’ll make an exception?” 

“Do I have to?” 

When he smiles, you know that you will have to. 

“I’ll send you the details.” 

That’s it. He breezes away from your desk space. He doesn’t offer to walk you to your car; he doesn’t ask you any questions about what you want to eat, or what you like to eat. He just walks away. You look after him for a moment before you look down, taking up your laptop chord and wrapping it with a mutter of, 

“Dinner at 1:30 in the morning? Not in fucking college anymore…What’s even gonna be open that late for fucking dinner?” 

You think, and then giggle. 

Maybe Nathan Bateman is going to take you to McDonald’s. 

--  

“You ever been here before?” 

“Uhh…” You peer down at the menu. It’s timeworn, and splattered with what look like gravy stains. At least—well, you hope it’s gravy. “Nope, can’t say I have.” 

The diner has a vintage bent to it. The seats are all coated in robin’s egg blue vinyl; the floor is tiled like a checkerboard; the walls are pepto-pink. There’s a jukebox in the corner, but the oldies being played in the diner are coming from a few recessed speakers in the ceiling. You glance up again as you hear Bateman shifting in his seat. He’s lounging back in his seat like he owns the damn place. 

…Maybe he does own the damn place. 

It could explain why they’re open so late, at least. There are a few other people in the diner, a ways away. Now and again, an explosive swell of cackling laughter will pass over your way before one of their party hurries to hush them. You glance back curiously as you hear one of them add, 

“Dude, you’re gonna get us kicked out again.” 

“So how long have you known Jenn?” Bateman asks. 

“Oh, gosh,” You turn back to him. “Since Kindergarten. She’s my oldest friend.” 

“You two seemed pretty close during the tour yesterday.” 

“Did we?” 

“Insomuch as you were her shadow.” 

You close your mouth, reaching for your water. You had shadowed because Jenn had asked—but you’re in no position to quibble with this man. You’ve no need, either; he goes on: 

“How was your double?” 

“It was fine.” 

“What are you working on?” 

“I work at a company that produces technical books and longform guides for—” 

“I know where you work, that wasn’t my question. What are you working on.” 

The bored, irritated tone in his voice raises your hackles, and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. But you swallow your annoyance in favor of giving a straightforward answer: “Right now, a quantum software engineering roadmap.” 

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“The writing can be a little dry, but the subject matter is interesting.” 

“Hm…” Bateman nods, his eyes sweeping your face curiously. You fight the urge to shift or fidget under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Can you ask questions? Are you allowed? Why does this man make you feel like you’re in a damn interview? Your gazes break as a waitress comes over, a pad in hand and an expectant smile on her face. You instinctively offer her one in return as you order. You don’t really hear what Bateman orders; you’re too busy wracking your mind for things that came up on yesterday’s tour—pain points, questions that Jenn promised she’d get back to him on. 

“So,” Bateman’s voice snaps your focus back to him, and you arch your brows as you meet his eyes again. “In your opinion, what’s the company lacking?” 

It’s a slap of a question. Your brows manage to inch higher. Oh…God. No wonder he didn’t want to do this with Jenn around.

“Uh…” Is your initial succinct answer. You clear your throat, taking your glass up for another sip, gathering yourself. You could say that Jenn has everything she needs, save for capital. You could say that the team is rowing as one one, your little unsinkable ship, the Sc(ai)le. 

But Nathan Bateman is a genius, and a billionaire, and a man with a low tolerance for bullshit. 

“She needs a complete C-Suite,” You admit firmly as you set your glass aside. “She needs a solid, knowledgeable team behind her. We’re doing the best that we can now, and the Chief positions that she has filled are pushing the company in the right direction, but the ones that she doesn’t are slowing down growth. We need a CMO and a CKO and a CIO, like...Yesterday. We have a lot of data, and we have a lot of marketing materials—and the seniors VPs in those positions are doing the best they can, but you can only fill a leaky bucket so many times before the handle breaks. The company doesn’t have the capital to bring those positions on, and until it does, the company’s going to continue to grow at half-speed because the plane’s being flown while it's still being built."

Bateman doesn’t react for a moment. His silence makes your stomach twist with nerves; your palms are sweating. 

“I didn’t think you’d say that,” He finally says. You can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Look—I could tell you that we’re all one happy family, and that the only thing wrong is the fact that bluebirds don’t land on our shoulders and code for us—” Your stomach flips as Bateman’s lips twitch with a smile, “But you’ve already been inside. You’ve looked through our books, you’ve seen the facility. And if you’re going to go in on investment, you’re going to see the dirty laundry anyway. I may as well show you where the hamper is.” 

“You like your metaphors.” 

“It’s the writer in me.” 

Bateman’s brow quirks a touch as he nods. 

“...Why aren’t you full time?” He asks. That question throws you for a loop. You shake your head a little—like it’ll knock an answer loose. But the answer—the truth—is that you and Jenn haven’t worked well together in the past. Sure, you’re part-time now, but you hardly ever interfere with her day-to-day unless it’s to coax her out of her office to get some air or a meal. You prefer to take your time with a project, and Sc(ai)le is in a growth period where time is of the essence. 

“...It’s not…” You start, brow furrowing as you grapple for a reasonable answer, “What Sc(ai)le does, it isn’t what I do.” 

“The company has technical writers.” 

“...Yeah—” 

“It needs someone that knows how to compile the information, translate it for the average consumer—” 

“But—” 

“Just tell me they can’t afford you.”  

Your chest twinges with indignation. 

“That’s not true,” You insist. 

“So they can afford you.” 

“That’s not what I—” 

“Which one is it?” 

“You’re twisting my words, and I don’t appreciate that.” It leaves you more harshly than it should, and you damn your tone immediately. There’s no way scolding this man is gonna bring him on board. You realize that your shoulders have scrunched defensively and risen toward your ears, and you force yourself to relax them. But Nathan’s lips just twitch again, his eyes bright with amusement. 

“...Why aren’t you full-time?” He repeats. 

“I told you. This isn’t what I do.” 

“It could be.” 

You don’t want to make the concession, but the look on Bateman’s face tells you that he’s got you pinned. So you give a small, begrudging nod. 

“Hypothetically.” 

His smile widens at your confirmation. You want to smack him. 

But that really won’t bring him on board. 

--  

You expect Jenn to grill you for your time with Nathan the second you get in, but she’s grabbing your hand and hissing, “He’s here, and he’s waiting.” 

“What?” You ask dazedly, pulling your sleeve back to eye the watch face where it rests on the inside of your wrist. “He’s not supposed to be here for another two hours! I didn’t see an email—”

“He didn’t send one! He just showed up!”

You pull Jenn to a stop in the hall, slowing her with a gentle, “Whoa, whoa—Okay. Look at me.” 

Jenn stops, eyes wide, head shaking minutely as she tries to continue walking toward the conference room, insisting, “We’re already late—” 

“Slow down!” You urge. She looks stricken, and you immediately feel guilty. You take her hand in yours, giving it a squeeze before drawing in a deep breath. Jenn hesitantly does the same, pushing it out when you do. You draw in another, and are relieved as she copies you, some of the tension melting from her face as she closes her eyes. You watch her pull in and push out one more deep breath before she opens her eyes slowly, nodding. 

“Thank you,” She breathes, patting your hand before she tugs down the hall again. 

--  

“I like what I’m seeing.” 

Bateman’s assertion shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Sc(ai)le is a good company, something that would make sense in his portfolio. But he’s so steady and calm as he peers out of the office of Jenn’s window. 

You don’t like how he’s commandeered the space behind her desk. She shouldn’t be sitting on the other side of it with you; she should be behind it, with him—or he should be on your side. 

Still, Nathan pushes himself off of the window, turning to face Jenn. His gaze flickers to you before he looks down at something laid out on the desk. 

“Your initial proposal was…Whadda we got here…” Bateman tuts as he turns a page. You think he must be dragging it out for suspense—there’s no way he doesn’t have those numbers memorized. Sure, it must be chump change to him, but it’s still a big fucking number. “One million for a fifteen percent stake in the company.” 

“That’s right,” Jenn nods. 

“I’ll give you four.” 

“...Four?” Jenn repeats dazedly. 

“Four million for what percent?” You ask before she can leap up, kiss the man on the lips, and accept. 

“Fifteen,” Bateman affirms. Your eyes narrow at him. This doesn’t feel right. He adds, “I have one condition, though.” 

“Name it,” Jenn nods. You glance at her nervously. You’re certain that if he told her to strip naked and run through the office covered in spray cheese, she’d do it right this second. 

“You come on as CKO, CIO, and CMO.”

Your brow furrows as Jenn turns to you. Who comes on? Jenn? She’s already CEO for fuckssake—

And then Jenn turns to you, eyes wide and insistent as she nods toward Bateman. Your head snaps to him, stunned. He’s waiting with that same patient, bored expression that he'd given you with all throughout dinner. 

“You want me to take on three C-Suite positions?” You ask, brows raising. “Are you that strapped for cash that you won’t spring for two more people?” 

Jenn hisses your name in warning. You know it’s the wrong thing to say, but to your surprise, Bateman just smiles and leans against Jenn’s desk. 

“Hear me out,” He waves your irritation off. “I want to roll the positions of CKO and CIO into one. Chief Knowledge and Information officer.” 

“And add Chief Marketing officer on top of them.” 

“That’s right. You’re much quicker on the uptake than you were the other night. No, it’s alright—I’m sure the double shift and the late dinner had you off your game.” 

You want to argue, but Nathan is already turning his attention to Jenn. 

“Four mill for a fifteen percent stake,” He reiterates before nodding toward you. “And her.” 

What would Jenn get if you didn’t come on? One million at fifteen? Two million at thirty? Nothing at all? You can’t bring yourself to look at Jenn just now—you know you’re getting a pleading expression. So you keep your eyes on Bateman, and his expectant expression. He knows he’s got you backed into a corner. 

“...Does this condition have a term limit?” You ask. Bateman purses his lips, seeming to think for a moment. Then he levels you with an ungodly answer:

“Three years.” 

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. You only just manage not to double over with it. Three years. Three years inhabiting two positions that you never wanted or asked for. Three years working with your oldest friend on her passion project, knowing that you will lock horns on approach. Three years of Nathan Bateman hanging over your head. 

You can’t face Jenn. One look at those hopeful, doe-like eyes and you’re going to fold like a house of cards. You can’t look at Bateman. One look at him and you’re going to lunge in, slap him silly, and ask what the fuck is wrong with him. 

You look down at your lap. 

Three years. Three years or what? Nathan pulls his backing? Asks for repayment? That could level the company, and everything that Jenn has worked for would disappear overnight. 

Three years. 

You don’t ask about the pay. You don’t care about that. You’re not doing badly as it is. Two C-Suite positions (well, three) would surely pay you more than you make now, but still. 

Three years. 

You’ve been considering leaving your current job. You’ve been chugging along happily, though you’ve started to get too settled, too bored. Too complacent. But you've been ducking away from management positions at job after job because you just don't want to be in charge of people. You want to be fully in the action, working on the words, not floating above them and giving them a thumbs up or a thumbs down. This isn’t like anything you’d consider throwing yourself into. 

Three years. 

This is bigger than you and Jenn. Pumping more money into this company would give Sc(ai)le the chance to expand its staff, upgrade it's tech, bring on a more comprehensive QA team.

You draw in a deep breath, giving a small hesitant nod. 

“Alright,” Leaves your mouth before you can talk yourself out of it. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bateman bats back without missing a beat. You can hear a note of triumph there, one that makes you want to reach into his throat and rip out his layrnx. Jenn is springing out of her seat, pumping Bateman’s hand enthusiastically and telling him that he won’t regret it. You’re staring down at your hands, your head and chest feeling hollow, like you’ve just been jailed for three consecutive life sentences. 

Three years. 

Bateman’s hand enters your field of vision, outstretched and patient. You eye it for a moment. 

You could still tell him to go fuck himself. But you glance up at Jenn, and find her beaming down at you. Her eyes are bright with joyful tears; her hands are clasped to keep from visibly shaking. 

You can’t tell him to go fuck himself, and he knows it.

So you suck in a deep breath and raise your hand, shaking Bateman’s without meeting his gaze. 

“We should grab a drink to celebrate,” He insists. You let go of his hand and push yourself up shakily. 

“I—Have some things I need to sort out. You two go on,” You add, slapping on an encouraging smile and turning to Jenn. 

“Sure,” Bateman concedes. “You have a letter of resignation to write.” 

You pat Jenn’s shoulder on the way out, hardly meeting Bateman's eye as you go. You get into your car, and drive back to your apartment. You mechanically unlock your door, drop your keys in the bowl by the entryway, kick your door shut. You don’t bother to turn the lights on. The sun is streaming in through your front window with a vengeance. You walk over to your bar cart and take up a bottle of whiskey. You don’t bother with a glass. You just plop into your favorite armchair and curl up. You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You just stare blankly at the wall. 

Three years. 

Next Part: Year One

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @aellynera ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda ; @foxilayde ; @revolution-starter ; @rachelwritesstuff ; @queen-of-elves

[halfetirosie]

✧˖°. This Event was Secretly a High-Level Comedy the Whole Time! ✧˖°.

(Prison Cell 11-13 React-os!)

So, this little flashback Quincy has while he's getting pissed at the Warden is actually hella sweet to me...

Like, here our boi Quincy is ready to rip this bitch a new one, when suddenly, ༺Edmond the Voice of Reason༻ speaks out through the noise....

It's giving me Professor Oak vibes...

Quincy contemplating violence = Trainer attempting to ride bike indoors....

DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT. I'M RIGHT AND YOU KNOW IT!!!

2. PFFFFFFFT! (≧∇≦)

Quincy continues to play the "straight man" in the Comedy that IS this event......

HEY, I KNOW THOSE HEADS!!!

Dude, of course it's these two! XD Seems only fitting! They've got the worst separation-anxiety out of the whole gang; this is like when someone serving in the army comes back home and reunites with their dog(s)!!! ♡♡♡

I CAN'TTTTT!!!! (≧∇≦)

3. Um, Topper, Sweetie.....

Of course, I'm sad that our boi didn't get to snack.....BUT......

Topper just.....tried to eat the seed of an ENDANGERED TREE. YA KNOW, THE TREE THAT STARTED THIS WHOLE PRISON-MISSION, THAT THEY'RE NOW TRYING TO INCREASE THE POPULATION OF?!?!?!?!

*heavy sigh* Babes....You can't do that..... 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

4. Quincyyyy!!! You sweet lil' softie, you!

Quincy fuckin LOVES people and he KNOWS it!!!♡♡♡

I feel like not enough people talk about how goddamn cute Quincy is---just because he's a Top and a big buff dude. But he's such an absolute teddy bear!!!!

*aggressive* I WANT TO HUG HIM.

5. Ah, yes, just like with the Earthworm Monster incident; Aster has been utilized for his storytelling XD

And this time it didn't even require mind-magic! :D

(Dude, the [majority of] nobles in Klein are such cringy idiots, I swear...)

6. 🚨🚨🚨 IMPORTANT NEWS!!!!! 🚨🚨🚨

IT'S ★ SMUGMOND ★ !!!!!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Look at this absolute DORK, making his DUMBASS jokes!!!!

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!?#$@&!!!!♡♡♡

AND IT GETS EVEN BETTER

PFFFFFT!!! Eiden fucking KNOWS Edmond was being a little fucker, making up those charges for the sake of his own joke's punchline!!!

I BET EDMOND WAS WAITING TO SAY THAT LITTLE LINE OF HIS FOR SO DAMN LONG, TOO!!!!!

This man is so cute, I can't handle it.... ♡♡♡

YES!!!! FUCK YES!!!! EVEN QUINCY IS IN ON THE JOKE NOW!!!!!!!

*Maniacal laughter*

Get absolutely DUNKED on, Eiden!!!! ♡♡♡♡

What did I say, dude? This event was secretly one giant comedy sketch this entire time....

♡ End of report ♡

[daphyswitchylibrary]

Ostara

Ostara, or the spring equinox, happens between the 20th and the 24th of March every year. It officially marks the beginning of spring, and so the warm weather coming! It represents rebirth and growth, but also balance.

Ostara is a good time to plan things for spring (like things you want to do this summer, or your garden. Some of us might even be able to start their garden at this time! It's still too cold here for me to do it), spring cleaning and, if possible, open windows for (probably) the first time this year! Also think of repotting your indoor plants so they can also start anew for this year!

Without really planning, you can also just write down your goals for this spring

Colors to wear, be it with makeup, clothes, or other accessories are pink, green, purple, yellow, white… mostly pastel colors!

Crystals to wear or to make spells with for Ostara are rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, bloodstone, carnelian, sunstone, agate and lapis lazuli Now for foods! Eat things with cheese, eggs, seeds, nuts, in-season vegetables and fruits, but most importantly: honey! I already shared it last year on my blog, but you definitely should try this easy honey cake recipe for Ostara!

And since I like Ostara a lot, I found this recipe for hot cross buns: turns out they taste amazing for breakfast or just a lil snack!

For activities, you can also light black and white candles for balance

You can dye or paint eggs in pastel colors!

You can eat chocolate rabbits and go take walks outside to see the change of seasons and how nature is coming back to life! You could also take a bath or keep yourself grounded by meditating outside (if it's not too cold!)

Of course, there's the usual divination you can do!

Blessed Ostara!

Sources: prickingofthumbs on Tumblr, witchoftheforest, wiccantips and witchytips on Instagram

[solarpunkaestheticweek]

How do you do solarpunk aesthetic week when you live in a tiny apartment with no outside access? I always want to participate but I feel like most stuff y'all post is geared towards people who live in houses...

Hey, thanks for sending in the ask!

We put our heads together and came up with a few ideas for you!

Grow plants indoors! You could grow a few houseplants to green up your space, or even try growing some vegetables and/or herbs indoors! I've heard people have lots of luck with basil indoors, and my freshman year of college I grew cherry tomatoes and peppers in my dorm room! Maybe check out information on semi or full-hydroponic setups? You can also propagate a lot with a few cuttings and a glass of water! If you have a balcony with your apartment, that could also be a good place to grow flowers or vegetables--depending on the season and temps where you are, it might be a bit cold to start things out there right now, but you could always start planning!

Crafting could be another fun idea! You could try your hand at mending clothes, or making your own clothes from scratch! I (Ani) am learning crochet, if you wanna join me in spirit and pick it up as well! Kala/Fennopunk (who lives in a small apartment 👀) also knows a lot about crocheting, its a pretty nice winter craft! You could also try embroidery, so you can add unique designs onto your clothes! Other options are things like knitting, sewing, leatherwork, jewelrymaking, soap making, and maybe even woodworking or soldering if that interests you!

Learning how to repair tech would be cool! Honestly, learning how to repair anything sounds super cool and is pretty solarpunk! This can also kinda go hand-in-hand with learning how to build your own things (one of my friends knows how to repair and build computers, for example). Try finding some information on something you're interested in and going wild!

Decorate your home in a way that feels Solarpunk to you! Even if you don't get it all done during the event week, I think its definitely a nice way to bring joy! Look into ways your apartment can change with the seasons, ways to keep yourself cozy and warm in winter but cool and bright during the summer! If you get started, feel free to send in progress images, we'd love to see!

Guerrilla gardening! Winter's a great time to scatter wildflower seeds (at least here in the states for me) as it gives the seeds time to acclimate to weather conditions! if you want flowers in spring, you plant seeds in winter! Maybe find a place you wanna target if you go out, think about what seeds you want to plant, and start planning? Or if you have seeds on hand already, you know what to do! Honestly, I also kinda view picking up litter as hand-in-hand with guerrilla gardening, if you've got the vibes for that at all.

Build community with your neighbors! Even if its just saying hi, or talking about what you're up to!

Maybe guerrilla art as well? Moss graffiti, spray painting, or even plastering a couple of stickers up counts as solarpunk! I will give a general warning that doing stuff seen as illegal probably shouldn't be posted online, but hey, you can participate in the week without telling us what you do!

Speaking of art! Maybe you could make art at home! Whether you use chalk, or pastels, or paint, or pencils, or if you've got a tablet you can use--find some inspiration and draw! I've seen lots of people draw solarpunk fashion ideas, solarpunk building concepts, or just general vibe art!

You could also take a crack at writing! You could write a short story, or get started on a longer project idea! You could even just write worldbuilding-type stuff, like examples of event listings or building histories you imagine a solarpunk society would have, or ideas for holidays and festivals!

Learning an instrument feels pretty solarpunk to me! I (Ani) say this as someone who has 2 guitars around and has forgotten 80% of the stuff she learned in her lessons back in high school. Just in general, picking up an old hobby you miss, or starting a new one works great for this event honestly!

You can also check out the Apartment Solarpunk tag on the Practical Solarpunk blog, it may have more ideas for you!

We hope this helps! Either way, I hope you enjoy the event week!

[chokrihizem]

Give your sweet pea seeds a head start by germinating them indoors late January through March to transplant into the garden as soon as soil can be worked.

By doing this, you will be sure that the seeds won’t rot before they sprout under the soil, resulting in a successful plant with beautiful flowers. It also guarantees that you won’t be wasting your time planting some seeds that might not even sprout at all!

Want to read more: How to Grow Sweet Pea

[turtlesandfrogs]

Seed Starting for Beginners- another class I taught Pre-pandemic, edited down for posting here. 

Seed Basics:

Anatomy: seeds basically consist of seed leaves (aka cotyledons), an embryo, and a seed wall. The cotyledons are food storage, and usually the first leaves that emerge and photosynthesize*. Seeds are dormant, but they are still alive and they are still exchanging gas (breathing) and using up energy stores. Ideally, most vegetable seeds are stored somewhere cold and dry. The colder and drier a seed is kept, the slower it’s metabolism, and the more vigorously it will sprout once conditions are correct (though, as this is biology, there are plenty exceptions- pawpaws come to mind). I keep my seed packets in a closed glass jar with a silica packet in my freezer. If you want to nerd out, here’s a link to a pretty famous seed vault, where seeds are kept below 0 degrees fahrenheit: https://www.croptrust.org/our-work/svalbard-global-seed-vault/ 

Sprouting/germinating/breaking dormancy: For most vegetables, all that is needed for seeds to sprout is warmth and moisture. Some will germinate better in the dark, some will germinate better with light (the package will tell you what is needed). For fruits, herbs, and flowers, sometimes they will need additional steps, such as cold stratification, or breaking the seed wall. 

Basics of Seed Starting:

Step one is to decide what you want to grow- vegetables, herbs, flowers?

Important questions:

What do I actually (want to) eat? (Ie, don’t just grow radishes because they’re easy- will you actually eat/enjoy it?). What would I eat more of if it weren’t so expensive? Make a list. 

What grows well here? What Hardiness/heat/climate zone are you in? Do you have microclimates to account for? What are they? Connect with your local extension office (in the US) to find out what grows well where you are and keys to success

Step two: Figure out when to start your seeds:

First, check the seed packet/website description and find your last frost date. Some plants, like broccoli, have a wide general time range to plant them in, but some varieties are meant for spring, or summer, or to overwinter. It’s best to get the specific variety’s information if possible.

If not that, then using a seed starting calculator like Johnny’s is next best. 

Or, go to a regional planting chart like Tilth’s. Or find your local extension office, they probably have a planting calendar.

Keep track of which ones are sown indoors, sown directly, and when the switch happens. For example, you can sow cucumbers a week or two before your last frost indoors, or a week after the last frost directly into the ground. Also note when plants started indoors should be transplanted outdoors

Consider the “winter sowing” technique- Basically, sowing seeds in mini greenhouses (aka, cloches), usually made from used plastic containers, and letting the seeds come up when they will. Makes very sturdy plants, might not get as early as a start.

Step Three: How?

Containers: Please use standard plastic tray, newspaper pots, peat plugs, used food containers, etc. that have a decent amount of space and adequate drainage.

Why not egg cartons/eggshells? Because they a) do not have enough space for seeds to do much more than sprout and b) the egg cartons tend to dry soil out very quickly.

Medium: Seed starting mix, potting soil, whatever, do NOT use garden soil without killing the weed seeds first. If you use a seed starting mix, keep in mind that it won’t have enough fertility to support the seedlings for very long. It is meant to be used to germinate seeds, and then have those seedlings transplanted into a richer mix to grow on. Also, I recommend NOT using coffee grounds as part of your seedling mix, because they have been shown to inhibit germination.

Which do well with transplant, which do not: (paper pots are great for those that don’t like transplanting)

Take well to transplanting: brassicas (think broccoli family), nightshades (tomato family), leafy greens

Fussy and need help to transplant well: Squash, cucumbers, melons, etc

Just don’t: carrots, beets, other root crops.

If they don’t transplant well, focus on direct sowing. The above IS NOT an exhaustive list.

Light: Give them as much as possible, a south facing window, or indoor grow lights. If you’re using a light, look for one that says full spectrum, daylight, or says it is over 5000 kelvin.

The warmer you keep the seedlings, the brighter the light they need. Warmth determines their metabolism, and light is their fuel/food, so you can keep them from etoliating/stretching out by keeping them at cooler temperatures. Slower growth at the same light intensity yields sturdier seedlings. Keeping seedlings at cooler temperatures can help you get stocky, sturdy, vigorous plants. This is a really big key, so pay attention. A lot of people struggle with weak seedlings that have stretched out in their search for light, and that can be avoided if you match temperature to light levels.

Actually doing it:

Fill your container(s). Tamp down soil- movement of water depends on capillary action, which depends on the soil particles being close enough together. Consult package on depth, or use 3x diameter of seed. Plant. Water. Wait. 

Watering: keep evenly moist, do not let them dry out. Not so much that it’s soggy though- so after you water they shouldn’t be sitting in a puddle of water an hour later. I prefer to bottom water. To do that, put your container in a tray of water, and let it soak up. If you’ve tamped it down properly, you’ll see the surface moisten. 

So they’ve sprouted, now what? 

If you’re using a peat or commercial seed starting mix, it likely doesn’t have enough fertility to support growth beyond the first few true seed leaves. That means that as soon as you see true leaves coming out, you have two choices: either use a water-soluble fertilizer, or gently transfer the seedlings to a more fertile soil mix. 

The big day: planting outside! 

Harden off first! The wee ones have been indoors, in very gentle conditions, and need to adapt to the outdoors environment before you transplant them out there. If you don’t, the cold can harm them, and they can also get sunburnt, or even damaged by wind. Acclimate them by putting them outdoors for an hour the first day, a few hours the next, gradually increasing the amount of time they spend outdoors until a week or so has passed. DO NOT transplant out frost tender plants (nightshades, squashes, pumpkins, cucumbers, etc) until the danger of frost has passed (unless you have a tunnel or greenhouse).

Transplanting, general: Water plants well the day before. Pick a moderate time of day if it’s been hot. Prepare the hole- bigger than the pot was, and deeper if tomato or brassica. If it’s one that needs extra fertility, thoroughly mix in some compost (I use one to two shovelfuls of rich compost). Loosen the plant in the pot by gently squeezing or tapping, make sure the roots aren’t circling (if they are, gently tease them apart), and put in hole. Back fill hole and press down. Water thoroughly.

For sensitive plants: all the above, but “mud in” the plant, that is, water enough that water sits on the surface for at least 15 seconds. Cover- if it’s hot, a cardboard box or light sheet to shade, if it’s cool a bucket to hold in extra warmth. 

Success through the summer: 

Provide fertility: some plants, like potatoes and kale likely won’t need much additional fertility beyond what’s already in your soil. Some crops, like corn, squash, and broccoli need a lot more fertility to make a decent crop. Either way, if you notice your plants aren’t growing very well, it’s likely a matter of fertility- or watering. 

I prefer to provide this fertility through composts & cover crops. You can also just use a balanced fertilizer,  but look into mycorrhizae before you decide how to go about it. Whether it’s organic or not, it’s generally a good idea to follow the package directions for best results. It’s just as easy to over fertilize and burn your plants as it is to under fertilize and get stunted growth.

Learning More:

Visit community gardens, visit the Master Gardener demonstration gardens, your local extension office for local information, here’s the link to Washington States: http://gardening.wsu.edu/

Facebook groups can be very helpful, gardening forums as well. 

Useful websites in General:

https://www.johnnyseeds.com/growers-library/seed-planting-schedule-calculator.html seed sowing date calculator- put in your last frost, get general dates for everything. Honestly, poke around their growers library in general, they've got some cool stuff. 

https://davesgarden.com/guides/freeze-frost-dates/#b for last frost dates (and a lot more).

https://garden.org/apps/frost-dates/Olympia%2C+Washington/ another last frost date site

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/05/150515111628.htm Gardening in a polluted paradise: Is it safe?

Seed Companies I use:

Based in Western Washington:

Uprising Organics (All Open Pollinated)

Based in Western Oregon:

Adaptive Seed (All Open Pollinated)

Territorial Seed

Nicole’s Garden Nursery

Based in B.C.:

West Coast Seed

Based elsewhere:

Fedco Seeds (Co-op)

Johnny’s Selected Seeds (Employee Owned)

There are, of course, many more, but those tend to be my go-to.

 

*Some seed’s cotyledons stay in the soil, and the embryo is the part that emerges. Examples include snow peas, beans, and corn. Others have their seed leaves emerge as their first leaves, e.g., broccoli and sunflowers.

[tomorrowsgardennc]

looking into growing sunflowers rn! so i have a question, if u dont mind! :33 what variety and/or tips would u recommend to someone who has semi limited gardening knowledge ? ive grown tomatoes and cucumbers but not especially well, and this is my first year rlly putting full energy into gardening! im a little intimidated tbh lol :p theyre just so stunning

ooooh sunflowers 😍😍 good news! they're super easy to grow! BUT... but but but... always a catch: sunflowers suck out a lot of the nutrients in the soil - or put toxins in the soil. depends on who you ask. the internet isn't really sure which one it is. the point, though, is they do NOT want to be planted alongside any other plant!! any type of sunflowrs all next to each other, don't care. happy as can be. but the second you want to put any sunflower next to anything else... anything else gonna struggle. SO! with that in mind... i would recommend the sunniest spot in the entire available area and grow a biiiig patch of them suckers! make them all nustled in to each other, 4 to 6 inches apart is just fine and that way they will hug each other and not fall down on their own. and the soil doesn't matter. around here there is clay, and they grow fine in clay too. sand is okkkk... just need a little extra watering. and sunflowers do love water - so if it hasn't rained in about 2 days then give it a good watering.

also - if you are able - start the seeds indoors. squirrels and mice and birds love sunflower seeds to eat just as much as we do, so if you direct sow them into the ground then they could be eaten! find a pot and fill it with the seeds, cover with soil about 1 inch deep, keep it moist, and once they sprout in about a week and they're about 2 inches tall, transplant outside! they don't mind getting roughed up, so don't freak out if your first time starting from seed -> transplant.

as far as varieties... to be honest whatever one looks the prettiest to you!! they all have the same needs, it's just more how they were bred to look rather than how to grow. my favorite is the mammoth sunflower, simply because they live up to their name and get taller than our one story house!! either visit a local hardware or garden store or go online and just look at sunflower varieties! if you can't choose then do what i do and close your eyes and pick 🫣👉🌼

hope that helps!! 🌼💚🌱

[samstree]

Beneath the Winter Snow (1/2)

The care and keeping of one’s bard and winter garden. Jaskier falls ill. Geralt copes as best as he can. (sickfic, 3.8k ☆ AO3)

Winter arrives with a small cough that settles deep in Jaskier’s lungs.

“Oh, dear.” Jaskier rubs his chest, coughing a few times, breaths forming a white fog. “What is with me today?”

Temperature near the coast rarely drops so suddenly, but a cold gust has swept over the little fishing village along with freezing rain, catching them off guard. Frost covers the ground overnight, lining bare branches and fallen leaves with glistening silver.

Geralt tucks in the woolen scarf around Jaskier’s neck. “Perhaps you should go in,” he says. “I’ll finish in the garden.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier pushes Geralt’s gloved hands away. “It’s our winter garden. I will not leave all the chores to you, darling, no matter how adorable you look when you give the plants little pep talks. The next frost won’t be long, and we haven’t planted the honeysuckles yet.”

Jaskier’s voice breaks with another wheezing sound. Geralt’s worry only grows. He frowns in dissatisfaction and pulls the fur-lined hood over Jaskier’s head.

“I know,” Geralt ignores Jaskier’s protest and presses his ears to keep them warm. “Just don’t want you to catch a cold.”

The crow’s feet at Jaskier’s temples are beautiful when his smiles, understanding shining in eyes as blue as the sea. Hair peppered with silver streaks sweeps across his forehead in the wind, and Geralt brushes the strands away, tucking them behind Jaskier’s ears.

“You take care of me too well. I won’t be catching anything,” Jaskier says coyly, his cheeks pink from both the winter chill and a blush. “Come on. I’ll do the honeysuckles and witch hazels. You can trim the hydrangeas for us.”

“Hmm, just…be careful with your knees.”

Geralt isn’t convinced by Jaskier’s reassurance, but they start the chores while there’s still daylight. The air smells like fresh rain as Jaskier plants the seeds in damp soil, humming an absent tune. Geralt trims the bare branches with half of his senses tuned into every subtle cough under Jaskier’s breath.

The sun barely sets before Geralt calls it a day, the few pots of witch hazels still not moved into the ground. Jaskier’s legs wobble as he stands, his hands resting on Geralt’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Alright?” Geralt checks carefully, studying the tiredness in Jaskier’s features.

“Mm-hmm.” Jaskier’s eyes crinkle. “Getting old, is all. The good days of me walking all day without complaints are long gone, dear witcher.”

“Without complaints?” Geralt gives a look. “Sure.”

Jaskier gasps in offense, starting to ramble about how he was the picture of suffering in stoic silence, but Geralt only ushers him indoors, shaking his head. The warm air of their home surrounds them, and they begin another evening routine.

Geralt helps Jaskier out of his garden gears from muscle memory, helping him out of the sturdy boots and thick coats. He then puts all the tools in the closet, before retrieving the blankets to put on Jaskier’s lap so he can relax in front of the fireplace in the soft armchair.

He almost thinks Jaskier has drifted off if not for the occasional coughs that bubble up in his throat. The harsh sound interrupts the quiet crackling of the fire, piercing the most vulnerable part of Geralt’s heart.

So he finds the book.

It’s a leather-bound notebook Geralt keeps solely for Jaskier’s health, recording all the medicine he takes, all the trips to the local healer, and all the herbs that fill up that cupboard in their living room. The book is half full already, with pieces of notes and remedies pressed between the pages.

Geralt checks the herbs they used last time—a small cold Jaskier caught in the spring that didn’t bother him for too long. He finds the turmeric, slippery elm, and ginger root in the cupboard, but the peppermint leaves have dried up along with a few other things. He writes down the list of things to be restocked on the next trip to the herbalist.

“You and that book,” Jaskier grumbles, stretching in the comfortable chair. “Stop worrying and come sit with me.”

Geralt simply bends down to kiss Jaskier’s hair, passing him. He has water to boil and a herbal tea to make.

“Any headache?” Geralt asks from the kitchen, not sure if he should use willow bark in the mix.

“Only from your fussing,” Jaskier whines.

Geralt chuckles as he puts away the willow bark and adds a generous scoop of honey. Gods know how long Jaskier will complain if the tea is too bitter.

When he brings the steaming mug of pungent herbal tea to the living room, Jaskier deflates visibly, lips curling into a pout from the unfairness of it all. “You know, no amount of honey hides the taste.

“I know,” Geralt answers in sympathy, “but it helps.”

Jaskier sighs, wrapping his hands around the mug. “Urgh, the things I do for you.”

Geralt sits on the rug by Jaskier’s feet as he sips slowly, grimacing the entire time. In the end, Jaskier chugs the last of it with a full-body shudder, wiping his mouth clean.

“Proud of you,” Geralt says, rubbing Jaskier’s thigh in encouragement.

“Of course you are. I’m the bravest bard to ever walk the continent. Brave enough to drink this vile liquid.” Jaskier puts the mug on the table, tugging at Geralt’s arms. “Just come here, you.”

Geralt joins him gladly, squeezing into the armchair. With a bit of shuffling, somehow Jaskier ends up on Geralt’s lap, his head tucked in the space under Geralt’s chin, the scent of mixed herbs still in his breath.

“Hmm,” Geralt hums softly. “Your knees okay? Not bothering you?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier whispers, kissing Geralt’s neck. “Yours?”

Geralt moves his bad knee slightly and feels no pain flaring up. The chores they did earlier were not nearly enough to exert his old injuries. He just wants to focus on his human bard who needs a lot more care and attention than a witcher.

“I’m fine,” Geralt says. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Too late. I have to.” Jaskier sags, burrowing into Geralt’s embrace. “I made you my problem a very long time ago, in a most horrid tavern at the edge of the world. You are the one who should want to run away from all of this. You didn’t sign up for taking care of an old human, after all.”

Jaskier takes to coughing again, so Geralt strokes between his shoulder blades.

It’s true that Geralt wouldn’t have chosen this life back then, in a dingy tavern where an annoying bard decided to follow him around the continent like a lost puppy. Had it been up to him, he’d never have grown to care for Jaskier or anyone after. Had it been up to him, he would still be walking the path alone with only the company of Roach. He’d not need to build a winter garden, or keep a collection of medicine, or have Jaskier here with him, in his arms, soothed by his presence.

It would be a living nightmare, compared to the dream that is his life right now.

“Don’t,” Geralt whispers as Jaskier catches his breath. “Don’t say that. I’d fight anyone who tries to take this away from me. You know it.”

“I just don’t want you to take on too much, darling. You’ve spent the past few years caring for me. All you do is scribble in that damn book. Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention.” Jaskier huffs. “But I want you to feel supported too, and I fear—well, I fear I won’t be able to do that for you. Not anymore.”

It’s ridiculous Jaskier still puts Geralt’s needs before his, but he does, and he will always want to.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it,” Geralt repeats, not sure how convincing he is. “Everything I need is right here.”

He just needs Jaskier to be alright. As long as Jaskier is healthy and safe, Geralt doesn’t think of much else.

They stay there like this, in front of the crackling fire on a winter night, with Jaskier warm and tired, resting against Geralt’s shoulder.

The cough won’t go away.

As the days shorten and the chill sets in, Jaskier spends more and more time hacking up a lung, and his energy drains with it. The bad days will leave him exhausted. Even a good day can quickly turn into a bad one with a mere gust of wind.

The night stretches forever near solstice. With daylight waning, Geralt takes up all the gardening to keep Jaskier from the cold. He is just checking on the hydrangeas blooms when the faint strumming of the lute comes from their bedroom window.

It’s been too long since Jaskier last sang.

The coughs leave Jaskier’s voice hoarse, the brightness in his songs diminished by the constant exertion, but his spirit remains. It’s a ballad, a love story, as it always is. Unlike those famous works from his youth singing about heartbreak, this song is about a love that matured over the years. This song sings of quiet mornings and hushed conversations, of secret jokes and companionship.

It’s about them.

Geralt stops to listen as the melody wraps deep around his heart, smoothing over all the tension in his body. He listens as the song comes to an end, fading with the warmth of trust and security.

A cough wrecks Jaskier’s voice. The lute drops to the ground, the strings clanging. Geralt is in the cottage within a few strides, running into their bedroom.

There Jaskier is, perched on the bed, body shaking from another coughing fit, the rattling in his lungs like an old ship.

“I’m—” Jaskier wheezes, trying to smile but only manages a pained grimace. “I’m fi—”

“Hey.” Geralt brings Jaskier into his arms, stroking his back with long, patient movement. “Hush now, don’t speak. It’s alright. Take your time.”

Jaskier ends up slumped against Geralt’s shoulder, clutching at his chest, coughing erratically. The sharp, acrid scent of pain grows as he wheezes. Geralt’s hands act on instinct, soothing, comforting, his lips pressed against Jaskier’s hair in reassurance. None of it seems to help. The coughs pass in time, draining all the strength in Jaskier’s body.

For a moment, he can only let Geralt support all his weight, all his energy focused on taking in one broken gasp after another.

The lute lies by their feet, silent and still.

Geralt feels every slight tremor under his palm. He keeps rubbing Jaskier’s back, knowing he cannot ease the pain underneath. He thinks of the book, of all the medicine in their cupboard.

“I’ll get you something.” Geralt starts to leave, but arms wrap around his waist, pulling him back.

“No, don’t go,” Jaskier croaks, eyes watering. “I’m really fine.”

When he tries to squeeze out a smile, a tear streams down his pale cheek. Geralt wipes it away with a thumb.

“Let me get something for your throat, at least,” Geralt says gently, coaxing Jaskier to release him. His arms are so weak it’ll only take the barest force to push him away, but Geralt can’t bring himself to do it. He hasn’t been able to do it for decades.

Jaskier shakes his head, resting against Geralt’s neck. “In a bit. There’s no rush.” He huffs a small smile against Geralt’s skin. “Did you hear me sing?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Geralt lowers his head to meet Jaskier’s eyes in sincerity. “It was beautiful.”

Jaskier nudges with an elbow. “Such high praise for you. You were the most difficult audience member to satisfy on this continent. Did you even realize? For my entire career, you were always so picky. Can’t be too inaccurate, can’t make you sound too heroic. Had I known dedicated love songs were the way to go, I’d have professed my love much earlier.”

Geralt softens. “It would have saved me a month after that sleeping curse, looking for your one true love.”

When Jaskier looks up, remembering that day, his eyes sparkle with fondness. “But it was you all along, the love of my life who saved me with a simple kiss.”

“Hmm. If only those could cure coughs.”

Geralt hugs Jaskier closer, feeling the thinning of his waist and the sharp edges of his ribs. Something in his chest aches at the overwhelming powerlessness that won’t leave him since winter began.

True love’s kiss saved them from a curse then, but it’s nothing against a fragile human’s mortality.

He hugs Jaskier more tightly, somehow.

“How are the flowers today?” Jaskier changes the subject, sensing Geralt’s melancholy, exhaustion already seeping deep into this voice. “You won’t let me stay outside, and now I miss them.”

Geralt keeps his voice soft. “The hydrangeas are fine. Growing better than last year. We should be able to sell soon.”

“Remember to save some for us. We haven’t kept flowers in the house in a while.”

Geralt hasn’t had the mind to decorate since Jaskier became sick, but he promises anyway. “Of course. The pink ones for your study, blue for our room.”

“The White Wolf has such a keen eye for colors. Who would have thought?” Jaskier teases. “Come on. Let’s stop moping. I haven’t been out of this room all day. Let me at least go out in the garden, lest the plants miss me too much.”

“You make fun of me, but I know you talk to them too.” Geralt raises an eyebrow.

“You rub off on me, dearest, especially when you are being a sweetheart. Plus, they do grow better when you give them some encouragement. I thought I’d try, that’s all. Once I started, it was hard to stop. They are such great listeners.”

“Like Roach.”

“Not as good as Roach, I’m afraid. She’s the best.”

With much dramaticism, Jaskier tries to stand but his legs are too weak. Geralt pulls him up gently, supporting him by the elbows.

Jaskier smiles tiredly, opening his mouth to say something, only to suppress a sudden cough.

It’s a big, violent one that seems to rumble against his chest. Pain flashes across blue eyes that were relaxed a moment ago. Color drains from Jaskier’s face, leaving his cheeks white as a sheet.

Geralt is alert in an instant.

“Jaskier?” All of his senses turn towards Jaskier and every shudder in his breaths. There is nothing outwardly wrong, but the bitter scent of pain spikes, mixed with overpowering fear and panic. Geralt’s hands move frantically, touching and checking everywhere, not sure how to help. “Talk to me, Jaskier. What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jaskier looks like he’s out of his body, confused and unresponsive, vacant eyes fixed on somewhere miles away. He sways, before bending over and coughing up a mouthful of blood.

The crimson color cuts sharply into Geralt’s vision, stark against the paleness of Jaskier’s face. The world rings in Geralt’s ears, a dulled background noise behind the heaving of Jaskier’s lungs.

“G’ralt—” Jaskier’s eyes are round with unbridled fear, much like that fateful day in Rinde all those years ago. All he blindly searches for is Geralt. “Geralt, I…”

Geralt catches his hand, just like that day. He catches Jaskier’s hand, the same fear echoed deep within his ribs, enveloping his heart.

“Jaskier? Jask—”

Jaskier coughs again, spitting out more blood. “Hurts,” he chokes hoarsely. “Geralt, it hurts so much—”

With that, he collapses against Geralt’s chest, legs giving out. His body is light, nearly weightless in Geralt’s arms, but they are brought to the ground anyway. Jaskier’s head lolls listlessly, face scrunched up in pain, but his hand still holds onto Geralt tightly. He holds on as if Geralt is the single most powerful anchor in a storm, as if Geralt alone can keep him afloat when another wave of coughs topples him over.

But all Geralt can do is hold on in return. All he can do is call out for Jaskier helplessly as he struggles to choke in one breath after another.

It’s painfully clear to Geralt what is happening—what he missed. An infection has set in as the cough progressed. He should have recognized this disease and its symptoms. Witchers never fall to human illnesses, but he’s witnessed how many have been taken by it in his century-long life. The white plague, consumption, the names are unimportant, but knowing the danger of it nearly leaves him paralyzed with fear.

There is no cure on the continent apart from magic. Geralt has never been more thankful for the xenovox Yennefer and Triss left for them. For emergencies, Yen said at the time, but the meaning behind the existence of the small box is clear. For when you can’t protect Jaskier. For when you fail him, for when you’ve put him on the brink of death again.

Geralt doesn’t let his voice waver when he calls for Yennefer’s name. He doesn’t fall apart when he describes Jaskier’s condition to Triss, who listens patiently and without judgment. His chest twists with panic when learning the sorceresses are being held up for another two days by local matters, but a cure will be ready before they arrive.

He doesn’t fall apart, because Jaskier needs him, now more than ever. He stays by Jaskier’s bedside and watches as he sleeps.

It’s just that Jaskier is too still when he sleeps.

For two days, Jaskier is confined to their bed, only making a noise when the coughs rattle his lungs. A fever flares up and refuses to come down, making him drowsy all day. When he’s lucid, he can’t keep anything down, throwing up all food and medicine.

There’s a smear of blood on Jaskier’s chin. Geralt wets a cloth to wipe it away. Sweat soaks through Jaskier’s hair, his skin scorching to the touch.

Geralt sits through another night, dabbing Jaskier’s forehead with a cool cloth with little effect. He answers to the incoherent mumbling from fever dreams, but his reassurance is never heard.

“Don’t…leave…” Jaskier’s eyes remain closed, tears streaming down his temples. “I’ll be better… worthy travel companion…”

It’s one of the worst nightmares. Geralt’s heart breaks into pieces as Jaskier calls for a past version of him, begging not to be left behind. He holds Jaskier’s hand near his heart and murmurs his love quietly until the dream passes.

Dawn breaks. Jaskier’s health book lays flat on the bedside table, useless.

Jaskier begins stirring with the sunrise, the shimmering light under the curtains interrupting his fitful rest, so Geralt leans down to press a kiss to his dry, pale lips. Blue eyes crack open. There is so much happiness in the small, tired smile on Jaskier’s face when the first thing he sees is Geralt.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Geralt whispers their private joke.

“Oh…” Despite everything, Jaskier plays along. “You saved me, my brave knight. Now I’m all yours.”

He tries to say more but the cough takes over, shaking his whole body. The violent sound rips through the heavy silence in their home. Phantom pain echoes between Geralt’s ribcage with every wheeze.

Geralt helps Jaskier sit against the pillows and claps his back gently. Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, dizzy from the lack of air. Blood stains his lips, grotesque against the paleness of his skin. He coughs until he’s gagging, muscles spasming and trembling all over.

“Yen will be here soon,” Geralt repeats what he’s been saying for the past two days, stroking Jaskier’s hair. “Triss too. They heard my message as soon as I sent it. It’s just something holding them up. They’ll be here.”

Jaskier breathes, and breathes, shivering against the pillows. He takes a sip of water from the cup in Geralt’s hand, and pushes it away, scared of it turning his stomach. “Just need—” he rasps, “just need you.”

“I’m right here.”

Their home smells of pain.

“Just you… No one else.”

Geralt looks away from all the love in Jaskier’s eyes, his trust unwavering. He finds shame and guilt weighing on his breastbone, overpowering and inescapable.

This is all his fault.

“I don’t know what to do, Jaskier.” Geralt wipes the sweat from Jaskier’s brow, patiently explaining. “You are sick, and I can’t make it better.”

Jaskier shakes his head in disapproval. “You make everything better.”

“Not right now,” Geralt nearly huffs. “I’m doing everything I can, but nothing is better.”

Jaskier gives a long, poignant look. His eyes dim in the way that says he’s seeing right through Geralt and finding the most guilt-ridden and self-deprecating part of his soul. It’s the same unhappy look Jaskier gives when he’s ready to give Geralt a lecture about thinking badly about himself.

Jaskier doesn’t give the lecture.

“Have you slept?” he asks instead.

Geralt blinks in surprise. “I don’t need to.”

“Not an answer.” Jaskier sighs, shifting on the bed. There’s so little strength in his body all he manages is lifting the cover by a corner. Even the small movement leaves him breathless, and Jaskier pauses with nearly every word. “You haven’t—haven’t slept for two days. You look awful, dear.”

“I don’t need much sleep. You should rest—”

“Please?” Jaskier rubs his chest pitifully, looking up at Geralt through his lashes. “I feel better when you are next to me.”

It’s a trick, an old one Jaskier uses to make Geralt take care of his own needs. It’s been working since Geralt found himself incapable of saying no to a cheeky bard who wouldn’t stop following him, and it works now, when Jaskier is sick and miserable and all he asks for is Geralt’s presence.

Geralt slips under the cover, curling around Jaskier’s too-warm body.

“I need to bring your temperature down,” he says, mind still alert.

“Shh…” Jaskier only hushes him, humming a contented sound. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll end up with wrinkles like me.”

The crow’s feet at the corners of Jaskier’s eyes bloom beautifully, and Geralt brushes away grey hair to see them. He feels his eyes crinkle in return.

“Sleep,” Geralt whispers. “You need rest. I’ll wake you later.”

Jaskier blinks slowly, exhaustion pulling his eyelids, but he frowns at Geralt. “You sleep too.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Am not.”

Geralt watches as Jaskier drifts off, knitted brows relaxing gradually. He listens to the subtle scratches in Jaskier’s lungs, the fluttering beats of his heart. They are lucky enough that the coughs don’t act up in Jaskier’s sleep.

But Jaskier is too still when he sleeps, too still that, for a moment or two, it looks like the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of his chest have stopped.

Geralt’s breath catches. He blinks, shaking away the false sight in front of his eyes. He stays awake after that, counting Jaskier’s labored breaths, one after another.

It’s the only thing keeping him sane until the familiar sound of a portal appears comes from their living room, Yen’s magic humming in the air.

[apatosaurus]

This is my new Aerogarden. A friend gave me a secondhand pair of their classic models in 2019. I used them quite a bit until this past summer, but both are broken now in different ways, and this one was on sale last fall. I put off setting it up because the old ones, while great, took up a lot of space, and we needed end table space when we had people coming over for the B’Mitzvah, then Thanksgiving, then the winter holidays.

But look how petite it is! And the LED grow light is much more efficient than the tube lights on the old units. This Harvest model has room for six pods, which currently has herb seeds waiting to sprout. I think the classic model had room for seven pods. The current largest countertop garden they sell, the Bounty, has room for nine plants. They also have a system the call Farm that grows up to 24 plants indoors, but it’s the size of a mini fridge, not a countertop unit.

I mostly used the old one for seed starting rather than using the pods for a whole seed-to-harvest countertop garden. If I want to use this unit to start seeds for transplanting I’ll need a kit that’s about $30 to switch out the top plate for one that holds 23 little tubes of growing medium. I don’t know if I want to do that yet. There were definite advantages to using the Aerogarden for seed starting, but the little tubes of growing medium can’t handle larger seeds like chard and sunflowers, so I would need a diverse approach anyway. (Yes, I know those are usually outdoor starts. I have my reasons.)

Also, shout out to Mokey, whose room reorganization freed up this desk, which fits perfectly in this part of the living room.

I will need to figure out a strategy soon for starting tomatoes. But for now I’m thrilled with this cute little herb garden.