#soil-less farming

[naturalintelligence]

Benefits of Vertical Farming: Efficiency, Conservation, and Quality

Vertical farming is a revolutionary approach to agriculture that combines modern technology with sustainable practices. It allows crops to be grown in vertical layers, making it highly efficient and suitable for urban areas where space is limited. Let’s dive deeper into this innovative farming technique, its methods, benefits, and the potential it holds for the future of food production. What is…

[balwaan]

बिना मिट्टी की खेती से अब शहरों में भी उगेंगी ताज़ा सब्जियाँ | Advantages of Soil-Less Farming

प्रिय पाठकों, बलवान कृषि के ब्लॉग सेक्शन में आपका स्वागत है।

बदलते वक्त में कृषि जगत में भी आधुनिकता ने प्रवेश कर लिया है। इस आधुनिकता के कारण खेती करने के लिए कई नई तकनीकें विकसित हुई है। इन नयी आधुनिक खेती की तकनीकों ने खेती को सिर्फ एक नया आयाम नहीं दिया हैं बल्कि परंपरागत तरीकों से हटकर खेती के नए-नए विकल्प प्रदान किये हैं। जिससे खेती करना तो आसान हुआ ही है साथ ही अच्छा और स्वस्थ फसलों का उत्पादन भी बड़ा है।

बलवान कृषि के आज के इस ब्लॉग में हम आपको जानकारी दे रहे हैं खेती की एक आधुनिक तकनीक के बारे में जिसका नाम है Soil-Less Farming यानि बिना मिट्टी की खेती।

यहां पढ़ें पूरी स्टोरी : बिना मिट्टी की खेती से अब शहरों में भी उगेंगी ताज़ा सब्जियाँ | Advantages of Soil-Less Farming

[etherealvoidechoes]

With me actively gardening now, it will probably help me write Mememto a lot better when I introduce her. I've gone a little feral setting up my little greenhouse and now my dad and I are making plans to build a larger one to go by the shed XD

Just wondering what part of the Avenger I can shove a greenhouse into and the slight mods for the landing bay when the Skyranger(s)(yes minor spoilers for my fic) aren't occupying it.

[cselandscapearchitect]

The Comprehensive Guide to Growing Hydroponic Strawberries in Desert Climates

Welcome to our in-depth exploration of growing hydroponic strawberries in the heart of the desert—a challenging yet immensely rewarding endeavor for gardeners and agricultural enthusiasts alike. Imagine, lush, ripe strawberries thriving in an environment known for its arid landscapes and scorching heat. This juxtaposition is not just a dream, but a reality made possible through the wonders of…

[reasonsforhope]

"In China, a landscape architect is reimagining cities across the vast country by working with nature to combat flooding through the ‘sponge city’ concept.

Through his architecture firm Turenscape, Yu has created hundreds of projects in dozens of cities using native plants, dirt, and clever planning to absorb excess rainwater and channel it away from densely populated areas.

Flooding, especially in the two Chinese heartlands of the commercial south and the agricultural north, is becoming increasingly common, but Yu says that concrete and pipe solutions can only go so far. They’re inflexible, expensive, and require constant maintenance. According to a 2021 World Bank report, 641 of China’s 654 largest cities face regular flooding.

“There’s a misconception that if we can build a flood wall higher and higher, or if we build the dams higher and stronger, we can protect a city from flooding,” Yu told CNN in a video call. “(We think) we can control the water… that is a mistake.”

Pictured: The Benjakitti Forest Park in Bangkok

Yu has been called the “Chinese Olmstead” referring to Frederick Law Olmstead, the designer of NYC’s Central Park. He grew up in a little farming village of 500 people in Zhejiang Province, where 36 weirs channel the waters of a creek across terraced rice paddies.

Once a year, carp would migrate upstream and Yu always looked forward to seeing them leap over the weirs.

This synthesis of man and nature is something that Turenscape projects encapsulate. These include The Nanchang Fish Tail Park, in China’s Jiangxi province, Red Ribbon Park in Qinghuandao, Hebei province, the Sanya Mangrove Park in China’s island province of Hainan, and almost a thousand others. In all cases, Yu utilizes native plants that don’t need any care to develop extremely spongey ground that absorbs excess rainfall.

Pictured: The Dong’an Wetland Park, another Turescape project in Sanya.

He often builds sponge projects on top of polluted or abandoned areas, giving his work an aspect of reclamation. The Nanchang Fish Tail Park for example was built across a 124-acre polluted former fish farm and coal ash dump site. Small islands with dawn redwoods and two types of cypress attract local wildlife to the metropolis of 6 million people.

Sanya Mangrove Park was built over an old concrete sea wall, a barren fish farm, and a nearby brownfield site to create a ‘living’ sea wall.

One hectare (2.47 acres) of Turenscape sponge land can naturally clean 800 tons of polluted water to the point that it is safe enough to swim in, and as a result, many of the sponge projects have become extremely popular with locals.

One of the reasons Yu likes these ideas over grand infrastructure projects is that they are flexible and can be deployed as needed to specific areas, creating a web of rain sponges. If a large drainage, dam, seawall, or canal is built in the wrong place, it represents a huge waste of time and money.

Pictured: A walkway leads visitors through the Nanchang Fish Tail Park.

The sponge city projects in Wuhan created by Turenscape and others cost in total around half a billion dollars less than proposed concrete ideas. Now there are over 300 sponge projects in Wuhan, including urban gardens, parks, and green spaces, all of which divert water into artificial lakes and ponds or capture it in soil which is then released more slowly into the sewer system.

Last year, The Cultural Landscape Foundation awarded Yu the $100,000 Oberlander Prize for elevating the role of design in the process of creating nature-based solutions for the public’s enjoyment and benefit."

-via Good News Network, August 15, 2024

[totheblood]

cutty love.

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal

warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft

a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.2k

"all my dreams my dear they are of you."

spring came fast to jackson.

dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.

patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option. 

on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).

your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail.  you felt safe with them.

on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?” 

to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.

you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.

“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.

“what?”

“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”

“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.

“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.

“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.

“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.

“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”

“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”

“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”

she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh. 

“i’m not usually an asshole.”

“sure.”

“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”

“i believe you.”

“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”

“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm. 

from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”

occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”

when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang. 

“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”

at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.

“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.

“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”

when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had. 

a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin. 

“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”

when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.

so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.

“your left foot! i said your left foot!”

“this is my left foot!”

“babe, that’s your right.”

“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched. 

“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”

you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.

your gun stance was never revisited after that. 

but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you. 

“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.

“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”

“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there. 

“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”

“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded

“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.

“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”

it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late. 

this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame. 

you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. 

you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.

“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”

you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:

“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”

you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.

“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”

another one.

“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”

the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.

“what are you doing with that?”

[persefolli]

about the tonowari x reader x ronal thing:

their wife/spouse is someone who doesn't really have a big role like them, like a fisherman or a farmer, and just gets giddy when they or the kids want to help/join her.

bonus if the Sully's meet her and is like, "so... what are you?" and her family gets low-key offended and pissed, lol.

just a thought

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap, @ms5m1th, @18lkpeters, @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @jakesullyscocksleeve, @neteyamyawne, @fanboyluvr, @myheartfollower, @letsloveimagines, @xylianasblog, @papichulo120627

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭!

“Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice in the distance. You looked up from the field and saw Tsireya running over, holding her satchel.

“Hello Reya. What brings you to this side of the reef?” 

She groans and sets her bag near your mauri pod, “Mother said you haven’t met the Sully’s yet and it's been two weeks.”

“Ah..I mean-”

“She wants you to come to dinner.”

You smiled and tilted your head. Reya shared the same expression. The both of you knew when Ronal “wanted” something, there was no choice, no way out. You weren’t getting out of this dinner.  

“I decided to come and help you make a grand impression. You can make our favorite dish. That is if you have some ovumshroom growing.”

“Oh I always have some in the chamber. Go grab the hoe.” You waved Tsireya to the small makeshift pod..or shed you had specifically for farming tools.

You smiled brightly watching Tsireya get to work, picking at the ground to see if she can find any fresh ovumshroom to pick out. While she did that, you went to sprinkling fertilizer over the newest crops you planted earlier that day.

Farming always brought you a sense of joy. It was calming, especially being away from the hustle and bustle of the village. Ronal and Tonowari insisted you move to that side of the reef, just so you could be closer to the family, but you insisted on staying where you were. The sun hit this part of the reef better and the soil was much more suited for planting and curating the plants you worked with.

After a while, you retreated back into your marui pod, where Tsireya was already sitting, peeling the shroom and humming to herself.

“Make sure to save the stubs. I can-”

“Replant them. I know.” She giggled and you ruffled her hair a bit. 

You moved to clean yourself up, putting on the nice clothing Ronal and Tonowari gifted you for nights like this. Ronal would throw a fit if you walked in wearing your farming clothes, but you would do anything to appease your lover.

A knock at the entrance caused you and Tsireya to look up. It was Ao’nung.

“I’m not too late am I?”

Tsireya threw a shroom stub at him and giggled. 

“Not at all,” You said. “You might wanna start boiling some water.

The teens worked happily in your kitchen as you tidied a bit. It warmed your heart to know that kids, especially of their age still enjoyed the simplicity of farming and cooking. Tsireya opened up to you once about how it was a nice way to get away from the training and practices of being the princess.

Ao’nung was less vocal about his enjoyment, but he kept coming around so that was a plus.

The three of you worked until sunset, creating an ovumshroom stew with fish and porridge, one of your favorites.

“Now who's gonna help me carry this across the reef?” You said playfully. Tsireya walked up but was pushed back by her brother.

“Let the future Olo’eyktan handle this.”

“Hey! Dad said I still have a good chance.” Tsireya rebutted. 

“We’ll see about that.”

---

After a long walk, the three of you finally arrived at their home. Ronal had a scowl on her face, and you smiled awkwardly. “I brought food.”

“At least you didn’t come empty handed.” She huffed. 

“I came as fast as I could.” You said lowly, realizing the Sully family was already inside the pod.

Ronal went back to announce the food was ready, and the navi began pouring in. You poured the porridge into their bowls as they stood in a line, chatting and smiling brightly at the warm meal. When it was Neytiri’s turn, she held her hand up before you could fill her bowl. 

“I can pour it myself, thanks.”

“Oh there’s no need, I insist.’ You politely said, holding up the spoon.

“I rather not…have someone like you pouring my food.”

“Someone like me?”

The room fell silent at your high-pitched voice that radiated from shock. 

Ronal was standing not too far from the two of you with a nasty glare on her face. Tonowari also had a look of disapproval displayed across her face.

“In the forest we don’t have servants.”

Ronal hissed, and Tonowari stood, walking over to stand close to his wife.

“She is no servant.” Ronal said harshly.

“That's Y/n. Mom and Dad’s girlfriend.” Ao’nung said a little unphased from the situation. 

Everyone watched as Neytiri's face changed, going into shock. She fell silent, and a thick draft blew through the pod. She nervously giggled before nodding.

“Enlighten me Ms. Sully. What about Y/n made you think she was-”

“It’s fine Ronal.” You chimed in, trying to deescalate the situation. In Neytiri’s defense you were wearing less formal clothing and you were serving the food. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. 

“I apologize.” Neytiri said.

“It was an honest mistake.”

“Mistake my foot.” Ronal mumbled, 

Tonowari placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and nodded, giving everyone the non-verbal signal that we could all move on from the mistake. 

The pod was still quiet by the time you sat to eat, everyone, even the kids, scared to break the tension that floated in the air. You looked around to see if anyone would perk up, but everyone was either focused on their food or frowning. 

You made eye contact with Jake, and you can tell he was about to take his chance with damage control. 

“Would it be rude to ask how this came to be?” 

You smiled and chuckled. “Well Ronal initiated everything. IIf she wants something she won't stop until she has it.”

Tonowari looked over at Ronal who had a bit of a flushed expression on her face. “Well Ronal here saw Y/n dancing around the bonfire, and went to join in. This was when the kids were…Tuk’s age, maybe younger.” Tonowari started. “After that night we wanted to meet with her more, but we didn’t see her around the village. Ronal tried convincing me for weeks that she was indeed Metkayina and not from some other clan.”

“I found her playing with rakes on the other end of the reef.” Ronal said.

“I was plowing the sand, not playing with rakes.”

“Same difference.” Ronal sighed. “I saw her..thought she would make a great addition.”

“Whatever makes Ronal happy.  I told myself.” Tonowari smiled. “But… Y/n makes me happy too.”

After an eye roll from Ronal everyone in the pod laughed, dissipating the once tense room. 

Once dinner ended, and the Sully’s retired to their own pod, you stayed behind to help clean the mess that was left behind. You noticed Ronal washing the dishes intensely, so you walked over and leaned to look at her.

“Ronal.”

“That Neytiri woman. I don't like her.” She said scrubbing the dish.

“It was an honest mist-”

“I allow her to seek Uturu and she comes to my home and disrespects me, you- us!” She stammers.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to face you. “Ronal….it's fine. Listen, I'm not offended. We're from two different worlds, I've accepted I may not be treated with respect like you and Wari.”

“But you should be!” She says sternly.

“Ronal.” You placed a kiss on her cheek. “As long as I am with you two I am just fine. I don't care what people say about me, or how they treat me, because you and Wari are the only two people whose opinion matters.”

Ronal looked at you before sighing and nodding, giving in, like she always did. Tonowari walked over and smiled at the sight of you two embracing.

“And you,” Ronal turned to her husband. “You did not defend me.”

“Sweetheart you did a better job than I could’ve. And I would rather not get into women's business.”

Ronal stood quiet before nodding. “You have a point.”

[mydododiedandthenreactivated]

Old Lime Kiln dressed in Lichen

Pen y Feidiog, Nr Trawsfynydd, Eryri, Cymru, UK

The first picture is an ancient standing stone that is slowly being reclaimed by the moor. The lime kiln seems to be a long way from any signs of old dwelling places, so I find it a bit of a mystery. Perhaps the lime was needed by whoever farmed the area to improve the soil. When I first saw it I thought it was an ancient burial mound so I was a little disappointed when I found out about it being a lime kiln, so much less romantic. Still, it’s a magical place, and the kiln is fascinating.

[housecow]

So what’s the big deal about grasslands?

>:)) well.

they’re huge carbon sinks!! grasslands store a majority of their carbon in their roots—they’re the reason the great plains of the US are so useful for farming. the expansion of grasslands in the miocene (~20mya; even though grasses have been around since the cretaceous, at least 80 million years ago) created the soil type we call mollisols.

these are carbon and nutrient-rich soils that we depend heavily on for agriculture. however, they’re only formed by old grasslands. these soils develop over a span of like 15k years as grass grow, are eaten down to the base (crown or collar depending on what’s eating them), are consumed in fires, etc. etc..

since grasses store a majority of their biomass underground, theyre better at sequestering carbon long-term than forests. they’re less susceptible to releasing carbon into the atmosphere during fires, too.

^^to show what i mean by grasses store their biomass underground

of course, the agricultural revolution put a sudden stop to this. grasslands are one of the most endangered ecosystems in the world— but you really only hear about forests because they’re charismatic, people LOVE trees. and trees are great at all, but grasslands have contributed massively to the global climate we have today. the miocene grassland expansion is partly responsible for our ice age transitions. as grasslands and prairies diminish in range, climate change ramps up. we’re losing our mollisols, too, because the areas we farm are essentially non-renewable resources.

it’s also like… SUPER hard to get people excited about grasses, loll!! they’re incredibly hard identify for a number of reasons, and the focus on lawns has introduced a number of invasive species (bermuda grass) that overtake our native grasses.

while forests store more carbon than grasslands (this is a very broad statement and truly depends on the type of forest), they aren’t exactly creating the most fertile land. if you take a look at the soil horizon under a forest, they’ll have “bleached” the dirt and taken away most of the nutrients.

it’s just…… grasses, grasslands, and prairies are a HUGE part of our global system and are disappearing rapidly. there’s almost no effort to conserve them and that makes me very sad :(( identifying and learning more about native grasses around me is a part of my effort to acknowledge this

sorry for rambling 😰

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Forged from Lavender and Iron 🪻

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Farrier!John Price × FlowerFarmer!Reader

This has been sitting in my notes for a literal year now. I never really planned on posting this because I wrote it for my own enjoyment, but maybe if enough people want to see more I'll continue this with the multiple parts I had in mind 👀

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Your little farm with your friendly companions Marigold and Pudding was all you needed. You'd see a friendly face or two at the weekly market where you'd sell the flowers and produce you'd poured your soul into. This time was different, as your life and your heart got turned upside down by a kind Farrier with a voice like silk and eyes so blue you were already gasping for air.

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The soft golden light of the spring sun shone down on your face with a gentle breeze passing through your hair as you heaved one of the wooden crates onto the counter of your stall.

You huffed, your hands tightly planted on your hips, looking over your work of having arranged the boxes just as you'd wanted. Heeps of seasonal veggies and fruit were almost spilling over the edge of the crates thanks to a very rewarding early harvest this year.

The colorful blooms and petals of the first few spring flowers framed your stall beautifully, surrounded by fragrant arrangements of all sizes.

You'd managed to touch up the paint job recently, making the wood rival the flowers in brightness. The weekly market was your favorite part of the week by far.

It was a time when the community would come together and supply each other with all the goods the countryside had to offer; you sold your produce and the flowers you were working so hard on integrating into the landscape, hoping they'd acclimate to the native soil and spread their pollen until every bare spot in your little town was like a sight from an oil painting.

Your stall-neighbors, as you called them, were an old married couple named Alice and Bill. They were lovely people, always checking in on you.

Bill was a passionate dairy farmer, not once have you seen someone handle animals with such care as he did, providing milk, cheese and cream during the market, drawing in visitors from out of town.

Alice, on the other hand, was quite keen with a needle and thread, offering her handmade goods every Tuesday. Her stitches were made with such care and precision, watching her work was a spectacle that never failed to fascinate you.

You'd been invited for tea more than once, spending time with your kind friends. They made you feel less alone, giving you the familiar comfort only grandparents could give.

It wasn't easy being in the farming buisness this young, especially as a woman who was living alone on an old farm.

So, Alice and Bill made sure to pass on as much of their experience and knowledge as they could, hoping to lighten your load as you treaded down your path.

This is the life you chose, one you would choose a hundred times over. The freedom that your little farm out in the fields made you feel was something poets wished they could put into words.

An office job would be your poison, sucking the water and nutrients from your roots and shielding you from the sun until you'd wilt and whither like a delicate flower.

"Oh, look at your flowers, deary!" Alice beamed, clasping her hands together in delight, "they're as lovely as ever. I don't know how you do it."

You chuckled softly, wiping the small beads of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"You have your secrets and I have mine." You grinned mischievously, earning a jokingly scolding look from the older woman.

"Well, much love went into them. And care. And blood and sweat and tears." You deadpanned.

"Stubborn little things, really." You sighed, breaking into a small smile.

"Go on, take whichever ones you like." You gently encouraged Alice, gesturing to the wide variety of bouquets that were sitting in terracotta pots in front of your stall.

She hestitated, a soft crease forming between her silver brows.

"I shouldn't. I don't want to take from you, deary. Not when they could be making you money instead." She smiled regretfully.

You brushed her off with a wave of your hand.

"Don't be silly, Alice. Your smile is worth more to me than the five pounds I'd get for them." You promised.

You could see the faint spark in her eyes melt into one of adoration.

"You're too kind. At least let me give you something in return." She said kindly, the crows feet around her eyes deepening.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" You grinned, watching as Alice confidently shook her head with a sly expression.

You watched as she hurried to her and Bill's stall, rummaging through a small basket before making her way back to you.

"Give this to sweet Marigold for me, will you?" She opened her palm, a small patchwork mouse sitting within.

One of your hands flew to your heart, a small 'aw' slipping from your lips.

"Mari will loves this one. I swear, she's not going anywhere without the little snail you made her." You smiled, taking the small toy from her hand.

Alice folded her hands in front of her.

"She's precious, little Marigold. I know Bill doesn't want to admit it, but he's taken a shine to her." She whispered with a grin.

You laughed and turned the mouse in your hands, brushing your thumb over the neat seams.

"You ought to come by more often. Mari stopped getting her little sneaky paws on my good cushions since you visited." you smirked, watching the older woman laugh softly.

"She embraces her tiger ancestry a little too much sometimes." You sighed, thinking of your cute stripped kitty that was just as mischievous as she was sweet and cuddly.

"Anyway," you safely stored the little mouse in your pocket before turning to Alice, "your flowers. I took the liberty of picking one for you."

Bending down with a soft groan, you pulled a small bouquet from one of the pots, gently shaking the water off the stems.

"I had a hunch you'd like these." You said softly, handing her the flowers.

It was a small bundle of daisies, baby's breath and few buttercups. Alice smiled as she enthusiastically took them off your hands, her gaze drifting to the pure blooms before looking back up at you.

"Oh, deary. These are perfect! How did you know?"

"Well," you began, wiping your hands on your thighs," I know that yellow is your favorite color, and you once told me how baby's breath reminds you of stars. Which, in turn, reminds you of the first night you spent with Bill. I listen, you know." You smiled softly, watching as a few tears welled up in her pale green eyes with a wide smile stretching across her face.

"You truly are an angel." She said gently, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek.

Before you could respond, Bill walked up to the two of you, loosely resting his arm around her waist.

"Ah, lassie. Good to see you. Quite the harvest you got this year." He said, gaze flitting over the many veggies you had brought today.

"Jesus! Look at the size of those beets." He marveled, abandoning his place beside his wife in favor of gawking at the red root.

"I'm telling you, lassie, these beets could rival even Arnold Schwarzenegger." He said with a serious look, making you huff out a laugh.

"Oh, Stop spewing your nonsense, Bill!" Alice scolded with furrowed brows.

"I don't know what that means, but I'll take your word for it." You chuckled.

Bill continued to inspect the beetroot, testing the size of it in his hand.

"Christ, what're you doing to them to get them this size?"

"Love, Bill. It's all love." You chirped over your shoulder, moving a small box of strawberries out of the way.

"You should know. That's how you got this, eh?" Alice snickered, patting her husband's gut. He grumbled, putting the beet back into its place before placing a kiss to her temple, albeit a little begrudgingly.

"S'all in good spirits, Bill. You know we love you exactly as you are." You smiled sweetly, although your teasing undertone wasn't missed by the dairy farmer.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved you off with a chuckle before taking his rightful place behind his stand, watching as the first few visitors filled the old cobblestone Plaza.

Alice jokingly rolled her eyes at him.

"Right. I better go before Bill's mood sours the milk." She muttered with a grin, coaxing a laugh from your chest.

"I'll see you around, then. I hope you enjoy the flowers." You smiled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I always do, deary. If you need me to watch your stall if you want to go strolling around, just give me a shout." Alice said kindly, turning on her heel to join Bill at their stand.

You gave her a nod and a polite wave before nudging some of the crates around, trying to occupy yourself with something. You were mentally preparing a list of the stalls you'd have to visit as the market was your preferred place of getting your weekly shopping done.

There was one of your younger friends, Evie, who was a passionate beekeeper, selling all kinds of goods made with the resources her little buzzing friends had produced. Her honey was one of the best ones you'd ever tasted, and the beeswax candles she poured herself never failed to warm up a cold evening.

You'd given her some dried flowers that you had leftover from experimenting with making your own tea, and she said she'd try to integrate them into her candles. Just the thought of the smooth and sweet beeswax combined with the soothing smell of your homegrown lavender made you sigh dreamily.

Then you'd have to stop by Cassandra, the butcher, and David the baker. A lovely pair of siblings that had taken over their late parents buisness together. David made a mean sourdough, which perfectly soaked up the flavor of the beef stew you'd made last winter with Cassandra's best cuts and root vegetables grown on your farm.

And lastly, a long pit stop would be made at Pam's egg stand. A real blabber-mouth that one. She was the gossip mill of the town, always knowing everything and everyone, sticking her nose wherever she could. But, she loved her chickens dearly and her hens' eggs are of the highest quality.

You've never seen a yolk that rich in color and taste. Truthfully, knowing where your food came from and knowing the people behind it all made it that much more delicious.

You'd also take a peek at the craft section of the market. There were all sorts of wonderful things to be found on those cluttered counters; handcrafted jewelery, ceramics and pottery, wind chimes, and glass art. You were grateful to live in such a colorful and fruitful community and one that supported each other with everything they could.

With your daily plan firmly set in stone in your mind, you waited behind your little stall until someone would come by and hopefully empty your crates, filling your pockets in turn.

You sat perched up on an extra crate you'd brought so you wouldn't have to stand all day and feel your legs all the way in your stomach.

It was a lovely atmosphere, the sunny early spring weather accompanied by the sweet melodies of jolly birds singing and the excited chatter of the market's visitors filling the space nicely.

Your stock was about half empty now, although your flowers looked more sparse than your produce.

It seemed that the colorful plants were dearly missed throughout the winter, and that everyone wanted nothing more than a fresh and bright bouquet in their home to ring in the start of a new season.

Some of your friends and regular customers had already stopped by, taking their fill of your veggies and couple of fruits until the next week. At this rate, you'd have to up your harvest by fixing up one of the old dry fields that you'd left untouched until now. You groaned quietly at the thought, remembering how much trouble the first fields were.

Sitting in the dirt with aching knees and a sore back, hacking away at the dry hard soil to plant some potatoes. It took honest sweat and tears to get your soil to what it was now, and as much as you didn't look forward to going through all that hassle again, it'd be worth it in the end.

You lazily swung your foot, which was in the air from your legs being crossed, and looked around whether anyone seemed like they were in desperate need of vegetables or flowers.

After a quick flitting gaze over the part of the market place that was in your sight, you decided that if no one came running towards you, begging for some cauliflower, you were free to leave the stall under Alice's watchful eye for a while to get your own shopping done.

"S'cuse me, Alice? Do you mind keeping an eye on my stand? I still need to get some shopping done." You called to her, making her head snap towards you with a smile.

"Oh, yes, of course, deary! You go ahead and get your supper together, I'll make sure no one steals your potatoes." She said jokingly, the sincerity of keeping watch as honest as ever.

You rolled your eyes with a grin and quick shake of your head before grabbing your beloved shopping bag and heading out into the bustle of the market.

You could see Alice walking over to your stall in your peripheral, making a small smile tug at your lips, your eyes back in front of you to not bump into anyone.

Your first stop was at Evie's stall, following the sweet scent if lavender and beeswax. As much as you wanted your own stall to be the prettiest, Evie had you beat. Despite the quite neutral color scheme, at least compared to your obnoxious paints, you couldn't beat her decorations.

There were little bees hanging from the awning, gently swaying in the wind. Some flowers were scattered around as well, with vibrant green vines, contrasting the soft golden hue of the little buzzy friends.

You walked up to her with a smile, and the one she sends you back once she's spotted you could make the sun turn green with envy.

"Well, well, well, If it isn't my favorite florist! I was hoping you'd stop by today- Oh, I need to tell you something exciting about my new batch of honey and- OH my new candles!" She squealed, almost bouncing up and down from excitment.

You chuckled at her over the top, yet very common for her, reaction.

"Alright, slow down, Ev. One thing at a time, can't have you eating your words again."

The bubbly girl stopped and huffed with a small pout.

"That was one time! Okay, maybe two at best! I can't help it, we don't see eachother often and I just have so much to tell you, about my little bees, and I just keep talking and lose track of what I actually wanted to say and then that makes me all upset and-"

You cut her off with a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Evie, breathe." You reminded her.

You hated to stop her rambling, it was so nice to see how passionate she was, but her face was getting redder and you didn't need her collapsing from talking too much all at once.

She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled before taking a second.

"Oops." She chuckled with a bashful grin on her lips.

You arched a brow at her, continuing only when you got a faint nod of her head.

"So, your honey? What's so exciting about this batch?" You asked, your head tilting to the side in interest.

You could see a wide grin settle on her cheeks as she hurriedly grabbed a glass and shoved it into your hands.

"I got new glasses, aren't they so cute?! And my bees took a liking to the flower starters you gave me. They're blooming wonderfully. So, technically, this honey was born of joined efforts!" Evie declared triumphantly, watching the way your brows rose and your lips parted from surprise.

"Are... are you serious?" You huffed out in disbelief, followed by a smile.

"They took to the soil, did they? I'm so glad your bees like them." You said excitedly, almost bursting at the seams, matching Evie's usual energy.

"Yes! And let me tell you, that honey is heavenly. I don't know what flowers they are but they're so sweet and fragrant!" She squealed, slightly rocking on her heels.

"They're just a native wildflower assortment, I'm surprised they didn't turn out to be just weeds." You snickered, turning the glass of honey around in your hands.

Evie whisked around, gathering a pair of honey filled glass jars and placing them in a small linen satchel.

"On the house. Or.. stall." She smiled brightly, handing it your way.

"Oh, I couldn't." You chuckled nervously, waving her off.

She gave you a pout and a furrow in her brows that had a feeling of guilt twist in your stomach.

"No is not an answer! Your flowers plus my bees make our honey. Come on, just take it!" she urged, giving you no chance to refuse again as the satchel containing jars of liquid gold was shoved into your hands.

"Alright, alright! But don't even think of sharing your profit with me." You gave her a stern look, pointing a finger at her while your other hand tightly grasped at the straps of the satchel.

Evie put her hands up in surrender and grinned at you. She knew you couldn't say no to her, and the little sly fox she was used it to her advantage.

"Don't forget your weekly candle, though! Can't have you wilting like cabbage in the summer, eh?" She joked, wiggling her brows at you as she slid a candle your way.

Evie poured all her candles in old glass jars; whether they were from jam, broth, or pickles, every glass was unique, and that's what made her products so appealing to many people.

"Here we go again with the veggie jokes.." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"You love 'em." She smirked.

"Yeah, I do, that's the problem!" You laughed, bringing the golden hued candle up to your nose.

You inhaled the scent, sighing contently as the aromas of lavender, beeswax, and honey filled your senses.

"This type of lavender is really strong when dried... good to know." You grinned, carefully setting the jar atop the ones in your newly acquired linen satchel.

"You have to let me know how they are when lit. I haven't had a chance to test them yet." She smiled sweetly, drumming her fingers on the wood of her stall, a common habit of hers.

"Will do." You saluted to her jokingly, turning on your heel before you were stopped by her.

"Oh, oh, oh I heard there's a new stall today." She called melodically, leaning on the counter of her stand with a grin.

Your brows furrowed as you stepped in again, curious to what she knew.

"And I heard the owner is an absolute hunk of a man." Evie added with a smirk.

A smile threatened to spread on your lips, but there was only a slight twitch at the corner of your mouth.

"Define hunk." You deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes at you.

"I don't know, I haven't seen the man yet! But you better hurry before Pam gets her claws in him."

"Oh, please. First of all, I'm not just going to throw myself at a man just because you or other people say he's a hunk and second of all, we all know that no matter how hard Pam tries to hide it, she's head over heels for Cass." You replied, earning a slight scoff and a creased brows from the beekeeper.

"You have no proof of that. Tell me one reason why Pam should be in love with Cass." She demanded.

You blinked at her blankly.

"She let's Cass butcher her precious chickens."

Her mouth opened to say something but her jaw snapped shut before any words let her and she grumbled under her breath.

"Okay. Fair enough. But-"

"The fleeting touches, the heart eyes, the overly sweet smile- do I need to go on?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get your point." Evie huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Enough about those two lovebirds- I have candles to sell and you have a a man to check out." She smirked, observing as your glared her way.

"Fineeeeeeee, you have to new stall to check out." She groaned, rolling her eyes when a content smile settled on your face.

"That's better. Don't worry, I'll tell you of this so called hunk if we cross paths." You replied with a small smirk.

"Great. Now, off you go!" She smiled, waving her hands to shoo you off.

"See you, Ev." You laughed, turning away to continue down the main path of the market.

A new stall? A mystery man? Your day just got that much more interesting.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"So," Pam began with a grin, carefully packaging your dozen eggs, "you seein' anyone, dollface?"

"Pam, we've been over this. You ask me every week and the answer is still no." You replied blankly, the heavy weight of your now filled shopping bag pulling at the muscles in your shoulder and neck.

"I know, I know. But why? You're a real catch, dollface! You got the face, you got the body, ya got the fire! How men aren't flockin' to ya like moths to a flame, I don't know." She shook her head with a sigh.

"You know, I heard," Pam gently slid your carton of eggs to the side and leaned over the counter, cupping her mouth as if to tell you a secret.

"Let me guess," you stopped her with a gesture of your hand, "a new stall and a mystery man that I, specifically, should go check out?" An amused smile creeped onto your lips at Pam's baffled expression.

"Now, how did you-"

"Evie." You replied with a smirk.

"Oh, that little tattletale!" She cursed, a crease forming between her brows.

"I'm going to the craft sector of the market anyway, you don't need to haul my ass there." You chuckled, watching as the crease smoothed out and a smile formed on her plump cheeks.

"This could really be something, you know? You're as sweet as pie, I doubt he could resist you! Ya need someone in your life, dollface. And what's better than a big strong man with a knack for art, hm?" Pam said softly.

You sighed and chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"I suppose it's hard to argue with that.." you mumbled, rolling your eyes when Pam's smile widened.

"I'll go check it out, that much is clear, but don't think I'll run back next week telling you that I'm getting married."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, dollface." She mused, watching in delight as a small scowl came to sit on your lips.

"I'll see you next week, Pam." You grumbled, stomping off.

"Bye-Bye!" She chirped after you with an enthusiastic wave, making you shake your head with a small smile.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The chatter and laughter of the market's bustling crowd filled the space as you slithered your away around people and children, careful not to wack anyone with your bag, which would also result in a to-go omelet in your satchel.

The soft jingle of wind chimes signaled to you that you'd reached your destination. This was by far your favorite part of the market, seeing all the carefully handcrafted pieces fascinated you. As nice as this place was for your soul, it was equally as bad for your wallet.

You'd leave with something new every week; whether that was a new wind chime, of which you'd started a small collection on your porch, or a pair of sparkly earrings.

You'd caught site of the new stall from the corner of your eye but decided to talk to your local crafters first, like you did every week, before investigating the mystery that had entranced your friends.

The stall looked... intimidating.

Not necessarily out of place with its dark polished wood, but it was bigger than most other stands, looming over them menacingly. You approached it carefully, eyes flitting over your surroundings when the owner was nowhere in sight.

You lowered your gaze to the goods that were haphazardly placed upon the mahogany counters.

Little figurines and sculptures smithed from... horseshoes?

A smile tugged at your lips. They weren't perfectly straight or neat, some were crooked and a little lumpy, which made them seem quite endearing to you.

One of your hands reached out to a little frog, but before your fingers could graze the metal, a giant man popped up from behind the stall and you stumbled back with a yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth.

Your reaction startled the man, pulling a deep rumbling gasp from his chest as one of his big hands came to clasp right over his heart.

"Christ, you scared me." He huffed softly, meeting your eye.

You scoffed slightly.

"Me?? You scared me! You can't just pop up out of nowhere, you 6'0 wall of a man!" You defended before you inhaled a sharp breath and finally took him in.

His tall and very muscular stature, the short brown hair, the cerulean eyes that pierced your soul and that exquisitely groomed beard that looked so soft, you were itching to feel it beneath your fingertips.

Holy shit. He was a hunk.

You weren't aware that you were gawking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

"Are you... alright?" He asked cautiously, shifting on his feet, visibly uncomfortable that you were staring.

"Huh?" You snapped back to reality with a quick shake of your head.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was just..." You cleared your throat before putting on a smile.

"You're just a new face, that's all." You chuckled awkwardly, drumming the length of your finger on the wooden counter.

He hummed and bopped his head, successfully trapping both of you in an unpleasant silence.

"So... did you just move here?" You asked, trying to break the ice, or more the glacier, that stood between you.

"Ah, no. I've been livin' here for a while, actually. I'm the local Farrier, John." He held out his hand for you to take with a kind smile and you were caught off guard by how smooth and soft his voice was and his gentle demeanor.

You introduced yourself with your name and as a small farmer that mostly worked with plants.

"Nice to meet you, John. I, uh, really like your little metal friends." You said softly, loosely gesturing to the forged sculptures in front of you.

John chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Thank you. Be shame to let all that good iron go to waste, eh?"

"Hm, so Farrier by day and artist by night?" You teased, your arms crossing in front of your chest.

An amused grin settled on John's face, his hands fiding the pockets of his jeans. The green flannel he wore was rolled up to his elbows, showing off the muscles on his forearms that were covered in a layer of hair.

"Wouldn't exactly call myself an artist, love." He chuckled deeply, sending a shiver down your spine.

You didn't admit to yourself how that nickname set your heart ablaze. You cocked a brow at him.

"This frog," you picked up the metal frag that had caught your eye with a small grunt, "says otherwise. You've got some real talent, John." You smiled brightly, earning a smile and soft huff from the Farrier.

"Speaking of this little friend, how much do you want for it?"

John's expression morphed into a surprised one, his thick brows shooting up. He was caught off guard by your question and cleared his throat after a while.

"You can have 'im for ten pounds." He finally declared, albeit a little awkwardly.

"10 pounds? That's it?" Now you were the surprised one, although a small smile creeped onto your face shortly after at his inexperience with pricing goods.

"We've got to work on your pricing, John. You can get at least 20 to 25 pounds for this." You said before placing the metal sculpture back onto the counter after your arms were protesting against its weight.

John smiled sheepishly.

"S'my first time sellin' things, go easy on me, yeah?" He chuckled, his hands moving from his pockets to the counter, leaning forward slightly.

You grinned before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a few banknotes, holding them out for him to take.

"Here's 20. Although, if you play your cards right, you might get discovered and can add a whole lot more zeros to that." You smirked.

He laughed but didn't make a move to take the money, brushing you off with a gentle shake of his hand.

"Here, take it." You urged him with a smile, extending your arm further into his direction.

"S'quite alright. Consider it a gift." He smiled kindly, an honest smile, and your knees were about to give out just from that.

"No, no, absolutely not. If I went around handing out my potatoes and tulips for free, I'd be bankrupt. I'm buying this frog, so take the money." You said a little more firmly than you meant to, but giving him a stern look nonetheless.

An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he put his hands up in surrender and finally took the money from your hand before swiftly pulling a brown leather wallet from his pocket and storing the banknotes.

"Are you always this insistent on paying?" John asked with a teasing undertone.

"Only with the people I like." You quipped back.

A hint of something flashed in his cerulean eyes before they returned back to their casual softness, reminding you of the calm ripples of the ocean.

"Well, I should get back to my stall." You smiled sweetly, adjusting your heavy shopping bag on your shoulder before reaching out to take your newly acquired garden decoration from the counter.

John's eyes flitted to your shoulder, seeing it slightly dragged down due to the amount of shopping you did today filling your bag. He'd noticed at first glance how you leaned slightly crooked, how you'd try to discreetly adjust your bag, or when you'd stretch your neck to release some of the tension in your trapezius.

Just as your fingertips grazed the metal, John's hand shot froward, holding a firm grip on the piece.

"Please, let me." He said gently, his hand slightly touching yours.

"Oh, it's fine, really-"

"I insist, love." He spoke with a gentle firmness.

Your lips were slightly parted as you stared at him, your hands still brushing against eachother before you caved from his kind

gesture and pulled your hand away with a coy smile.

"That's very kind of you." You smiled with a tingly feeling on your cheeks.

"My pleasure." John replied softly, his voice was slowly melting through your ribcage, ambitiously trying to reach your heart.

In the blink of an eye he rounded his stand and picked up the metal frog like it weighed absolutely nothing. Your eyes widened at his casual display of strength.

"Oh wow, you're really strong." You marveled, trying to keep your eyes away from the flexing muscles in his arms.

John smirked and let out a small, amused huff.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, metal doesn't bend from sweet talking alone."

I would

The thought popped into your head faster than you'd like to admit, and the shiver at the base of your skull didn't go away, cementing even more how nice his voice was. Rough and hoarse in all the right places, a pleasant rumble that carried through the air straight into every crevice of your brain.

John expertly weaved through the crowd, occasionally looking over his shoulder so he wouldn't lose you in the mass, while making sure he didn't accidentally take out someone's kneecap with the metal statue.

The crowd thinned out the closer you got to your stall as the people migrated to the booths and stands of artisans to finish off their weekly shopping with a handcrafted piece to bring home.

John slowed his walk, making sure you could keep up. He was itching to take the heavy bag off your hands, but he didn't want to seem pushy or too forward.

So he clenched his fists to resist the twitching urge in his hands. You two managed to make pleasant conversation as you led him to your stall, trying to discreetly shoot Pam a sharp glare as you passed her stand and she couldn't help herself but wink at you with a grin that resembled the one of the cheshire cat.

"How come I've never seen you around if you've been living here for a while?" You asked curiously, clutching the straps of your bag that were uncomfortable cutting into your skin.

John let out a soft hum with a absent look in his eyes as his gaze continued to flick back to that damn bag on your shoulder.

"I mostly take clients out of town. Or they come to me, and in both cases I don't pass through here on the daily. There's usually a market on the way so I haven't been inclined to stop by this one." He explained with a polite smile.

"That makes sense, I suppose." You mumbled, slowing your pace to an eventual stop to signal your arrival at your stall.

Alice and Bill were long gone, rightfully so as time had passed faster than you thought and the sun was starting its descend past the horizon.

There was, however, a sweet note from Alice, letting you know that they'd left and where she'd hid your moneybox.

"This is my stall." You said awkwardly, suddenly feeling insecure about the colorful paints around someone has serious as John.

He hummed in response, looking over your, quite marvelous, paint job with approval. He had one hand in his pocket while the other was still tightly grasping the metal frog.

"It's lovely. You did this yourself?" He asked with a quirked brow, running a hand over the painted wood.

"Uh, yeah, I did. Thank you." You laughed nervously, surprised by his answer.

There was a beat of awkwardly silence before you spoke and scrambled to pack up for the day.

"Well, I should really get these remaining things back home..." You trailed off, starting to stack wooden crates, but still refusing to put down that forsaken shopping bag of yours.

"I could help you, if you want." He proposed, clearing his throat. Your eyes widened

"Oh, you really don't have to do that, John-"

"It's nothing. At least let me hold your bag." He said softly, holding out his hand.

You thought for a moment before the burning pain in your shoulder made the decision for you. You slipped it off your shoulder and sighed in relief at the heavy weight that was lifted off of you.

He took the bag and slung it over his shoulder like it carried nothing but a feather.

"Thank you." You smiled softly, gratitude shining in your eyes.

"Not a problem, love." He replied with a smile.

Little did you know, he had purposefully chosen the shoulder that was farthest from you, an attempt at hiding the bag, as he had every intention of walking you to your car.

"Alright, that should be everything." You huffed, having been able to fit all of today's leftovers into one crate.

Something that made it significantly easier for you to carry.

"Shall we go, then?" John asked lightly, making your brows furrow with a small chuckle.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I figured I'd walk you to your car." He smiled.

That stupidly adorable smile of his. How could you ever decline such a nice gesture, especially with all your muscles hurting.

Besides, it was getting dark, and despite this being a safe and close community you weren't too keen to stay out at night. You huffed but broke into a smile.

"I suppose you won't take a no?" You asked with a slightly teasing smile. John chuckled.

"I would. If you don't want help, that's alright with me." His answer surprised you and managed to knock words out of your brain for a minute. He slightly raised a brow, waiting for an answer, but there was a glint of patience in his eyes.

"O-Oh, well..." you chuckled, eyes flitting to the ground briefly before you cleared your throat and met his gaze again.

"That.. that would actually be very helpful. I don't think I could carry all of this in one trip anyway. Thank you." You breathed out with a kind smile.

Maybe your alarms should go off, a strange men you've just met isn't someone you'd want to lead to your car, but there was something so curious and trustworthy about him that made you feel at ease when you were around him.

Well, there are people you just click with. Maybe you'd gained another friend as well. John gave you a kind nod, making you start the trek to your car.

It was tiny, a little dirty, but she was a well-oiled thing that ran without complaints. All thanks to Bill's obsession with oiling things don't really need any oiling at all.

It was a quiet walk, though a pleasant and comfortable air orrounded the both of you.

The sky was turning a light purple, bleeding into a deep blue. You've never spent this much time at the market, but today was full of new things for you it seemed.

You heaved the crate into the boot of your car before turning to John and spotting him waiting patiently with your bag slung over his shoulder and your newly purchased garden decoration in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you my pack mule." You said apologetically, although a smile was never far with him around.

"No, I offered." He replied kindly, waving off your worries before handing you your things.

"You said you were a Farrier, right?" You asked through a groan, using all your strength to close your boot.

Bill had insisted on some new springs that now made your life that more difficult.

"I am." He nodded, keeping enough space between the two of you so it wouldn't feel weird.

There was something so calm about you that intrigued him. Smiles seemed to follow you wherever you went, and a cloud of faint sweet flowers hit his nose whenever he'd come a little closer.

"Do you think you could come over for Pudding?" You asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world. His brows shot up and he laughed nervously, eyes flitting to the ground. "That's a little early, don't you think?" He asked with a lopsided smile. Your eyes widened and your cheeks blushed.

"No, no, what I mean- what I meant was- my horse. I have a horse. Her name is Pudding." You scrambled to explain the situation.

You didn't think about the wording and how it seemed suggestive to other people.

John chuckled and shook his head.

"A horse named Pudding, eh?" He questioned with a smirk, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Yes. Yes, Pudding. I... didn't think about how that would sound." You cleared your throat with an apologetic smile.

John smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"It's alright, love, don't worry. I'll have to check when I can fit you in my schedule, but it'll be no problem."

"Oh, of course. There's really no rush." You replied politely, a smile gracing your face once again.

"Here, let me just-" You quickly pulled a small and well-loved notepad from your pocket and scribbled down your number.

Your handwriting was rushed and messy, but you hoped John would be able to make it out and call you eventually. Shoving the piece of paper into his hand, you stashed your pen and notepad back in your pocket.

Although John was a little surprised at your enthusiasm, it wasn't unwelcome. God, how long has it been since someone was this excited about him? There was a faint spark of adoration shining in his eyes, a spark that had been snuffed out for far too long.

One that you, the kind yet sassy farmer, had ignited once again. He stored the note in the breast pocket of his flannel, giving it a pat to assure you that he'd keep it safe.

"I'll give ya a ring then." He chuckled, his hands finding the familiar spot in his pockets.

"Yeah, okay." You sighed, the beaming smile almost glued to your face.

"It was lovely meeting you, John. I'll see more of you around? It's good to have connections." You joked, earning a pleasant huff from him.

"Don't know how good of a.. connection, a Farrier is, but I'll be around."

You gave him a satisfied nod.

"Well, good night, John." You said softly, sleep aching deep in bones.

"Night, love." With a smile he turned on his heel.

He was fighting everything within him to not turn around and get one last look at you. With a clenched jaw and a sharp huff through his nose, he kept on walking. You were halfway in your car, but before you could sit down, you jolted up again, calling after him.

"John!"

He whipped around faster than he'd like to admit. He wouldn't be surprised if he had pulled a muscle in the process.

"Everything alright?" He shouted, watching as you turned your torso, steadying yourself on the door of your car.

"You're not allergic to cats, are you?" You asked loudly, slightly wincing at how far your voice carried over the empty car park.

"Not that I know of. Why?" A smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"No reason. Night!" You called out one last time, a wide and cheeky grin sitting on your face was you waved him goodbye and finally got into your car.

John shook his head with a grin as he walked back. He snuck a peak of your car, watching as the bright lights got duller the further you drove into the night.

If he'd known such pleasant company was hiding at the market, he'd have gone months ago. Your note was a reassuring weight in his pocket, and he'd made it his goal to show up every week from now on.

Of course, it was to sell his figurines as a side hustle and definitely not because he was completely enarmoured with the sweet farmer that ignited a spark in his chest he hadn't felt in years.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Please support me and my work with likes, reblogs and comments!! I really enjoy reading what you guys think of my little writings 💕

I'm hoping this ups my motivation for writing in general and for this story in particular because there's so much to come!

~Fi ✨️🧚🏻‍♀️

More of my stuff -> 💫

Some cuties that I think would like this <3 @vampkennedy @bravo4iscool @allysunny @lizzy019 @morbidflowercollector @callsign-selkie

[sincerelyzee]

summers in pelican town

sebastian x fem!reader | 3.6k

cw: porn with plot | p in v (wrap it up!!) | creampie | brief fingering | some angst, some fluff

for as long as you can remember, every summer your parents dropped you off in Pelican Town. Your paternal grandparents were stubborn old people, not wanting to leave for the big city with their son.

your parents were happy to spend every summer alone, your grandparents were happy to see you and spend weeks upon weeks with you, and you were always happy to be in Pelican Town. everybody wins.

every summer, you spent it on the farm with your grandparents. whether it was helping Granny put the fruit into baskets or watering the crops, to tilling the soil or planting seeds.

when you weren’t on the farm, you were on the beach with Sam, Abigail and Sebastian, laughing with Abigail and Sam about the fact that Sebastian doesn’t tan — he burns. Sebastian just rolled his eyes and tossed sand in your direction.

when your Granny passed during the winter, everyone in Pelican Town was affected. Sebastian stayed behind with you after the funeral to comfort you as you cried until no more sound came out your mouth and your body shook with grief.

the weeks after, you tended to your Grandpa and took up the brunt of the farm work while your Grandpa mourned the loss of his wife. Often times, your friends would drop by the farm and help around the farm with you. you often asked Sebastian to stay behind when the sun started to set and everyone else went home.

Sebastian would hold you as your cried on the bench on the front porch your Granny and Grandpa would sit on after a long, hot day. he always listened. he always held you in his arms. he always stroked your head and always planted a soft kiss to your head when he layed you down on your bed and left you to sleep soundly.

the summer after the funeral, you didn’t show up and you didn’t contact anyone either. only the next year did you show up, the summer of your senior year. coming back to Pelican Town left a bittersweet taste on your tongue. your friends greeted you as you stepped off the bus and you tried your best to stay there for as long as possible, wanting nothing more than to avoid seeing the farm without your Granny. despite your excitement to see your Grandpa, you didn’t know if you could do it. but you had to. you’re forced to, by sam who picked your bags up for you and walked to the farm.

your friends leave once you’re sat with your Grandpa and catch up with him before assisting him with whatever it is he was doing on the farm before your arrival.

that summer, you spent as much time away from the farm as possible, not wanting to come to terms with the loneliness of her favourite spots on the farm and in the house. most of the time, you found yourself in Robin’s basement having a another sleepover with her son. Down there Sebastian distracted you. Whether it was on the bed, on the floor next to the bed, against his desk, in the shower, against the sink, against the wall, you name it; he’s assisted you in forgetting your grief there.

secretly and unknowingly, Sebastian became your rock. whenever it got too hard to deal with, he was at your aid. whenever you missed Pelican Town because the city was draining you, he’d send you a photo of your shared friend group doing something or an old photo with you included along with a sweet text.

but, the city is always wanting and never giving, and with Sebastian not at your side, you had no choice but to use work as your distraction. at first you felt bad for abandoning your friends, texting and calling them less and less, until you had no time to feel bad because there was always a self-imposed deadline on the horizon.

summer breaks no longer were a thing as you weren’t in school anymore and taking leave when there was still so much to do was not possible. one summer missed turned into two and then three. the texts between you and your friends also fizzled and died out despite your shared promises not to let them, but you were kids then.

when the news of your Grandpa passing reached you, you were left broken. you attended the funeral but spoke quietly and shortly to everybody who spoke to you first and left back to Zuzu City as soon as it was over. you could barely face your friends, guilt of lost years ate at you but work could never make you feel that way.

nobody expected that you would come back the first summer after your Grandpa’s passing based on how you acted at the funeral and how you’ve been avoiding coming to Pelican Town the past three years, but word spread that the farm was left to you in his will, which excited everyone underneath their deep concern for you.

around the time you usually arrive the next year, your friends decided to collectively work on making the farm look less abandoned and unkempt but the summer came and went without your arrival or a single word from you.

the next year — this year your dad visited you and said he spoke with your boss to take out leave for you, for the whole of this summer. before you could protest, he handed you a bus ticket and an empty suitcase. if there was anyone who knew how much you missed Pelican Town is was your dad. he watched the longing for a break embed itself into your skin and the life in your being, that the town brought you, dim.

sometimes he thinks what if he never moved away in the first place, maybe you wouldn’t look so constantly defeated. maybe you would be comforted and supported by the residents of the town until you could get back on your feet and live happily.

once you’ve packed, you thank your dad and let him drive you to the familiar bus stop. the only one that has a bus that takes you to Pelican Town. when things got bad, you’d sit underneath the shelf of the stop and think about what if you quit your job and ran away to work the farm and be happy, maybe settle down with one of your friends and grow old in your happy place like your own Granny and Grandpa.

in the bus you stare down at your phone, unable to pick who to pick to text and let know of your soon arrival. you end up picking Sam, his excitement will excite you too.

eventually, the bus comes to a halt and from the window you see your friends standing around, waiting for you. your heart warms and you could cry seeing them all gathered for you. your work could never make you feel this way.

Sam is the first to embrace you tightly then Abigail joins in and takes over when Sam lets go of you. he offers to take your bags for you then the three of you walk to the farm together. Abigail lets you know that Sebastian couldn’t make it because of a tight deadline. you nod as nonchalantly as you possibly can.

Your bags are dropped on the porch, next to the bench you can picture your grandparents sitting on and looking out to their hard work during the day and finally relax together, each sipping on a cold glass of water you’d prepared for them.

Abigail and Sam watch as your bottom lip quivers when you take in a deep breath and then unlock the door and lead them inside.

“let’s go to Robin’s and ask her to come and fix everything that can be fixed quickly,” Sam suggests and you weakly nod. Seeing Robin would mean seeing her son. You aren’t sure if you’re able to handle the guilt just yet, but you’re already nodded.

you trail behind Abigail and Sam up the familiar trail up to the mountains where Robin, her husband and their kids would be found. your mind runs through different scenarios of what could happen when you walk into that house. the best sounding possibility is that you trip and roll up into the lake and forget how to swim and drown. but alas, life has other plans for you.

as soon as you enter the house, Robin is running around the counter and wrapping you a warm embrace. you can feel all the love and care in the world from her body that she forcibly transfers to you when she hugs you.

when the niceties are over with, you let her know of the state of your grandparents farmhouse and she immediately grabs her tool box and some supplies then tells you that she’ll be back soon. when you step behind her to follow her back to the farmhouse, she lets you know that she sent Sebastian down to Pierre’s and that he’ll be back soon and before you can speak she’s already off.

without really thinking, you leave her house and stand next to the lake and stare into it, watching the fish swim freely below the surface unbeknownst to your metaphorical suffocation up on land. you bend at the knees and squat down next to the water and look up to the sky that’s starting to change colours and the critters of the evening start their songs and emerge from wherever they hide from that harsh sun.

Sebastian walks up with a bag of groceries his mother sent him to buy and in his peripherals he sees you. he could recognise you all the way from the beach, you’re so unmistakably you. slowly, he walks inside and drops his what he’s holding in the kitchen then makes his way back out, he wonders if when he’s back you’ll be gone, as if he imagined you. but, you’re still there, unreasonably still.

he silently sits next to you, not once looking your direction and you deduce that this is worse than him pushing you into the water and shoving a fish in your mouth. you take in a deep breath and look at him, finally getting the courage to speak first. “where have you been?” Sebastian beats you to it, his question leaves you silent for a moment, “Zuzu City. where else?” you picked the safe option. the stupid option, honestly. Sebastian knows that you know what he was asking.

instead of arguing he just hums and pulls his shoes and socks off, sinking his feet into the water. “i’ve been working.” you say, in a desperate attempt to redeem yourself.

Sebastian nods his head once, “ we all work.” you stare at him, not knowing what to say. it freaks you out how calm he’s being, you think about what if it was him to abandon you and you would be in hysterics. you would definitely push him into the water and shove a fish in his mouth. but, what he’s giving you is way worse.

you stand on your feet and start to walk away, from behind you you hear the water swish and Sebastian rushes behind you and roughly takes your hand. you turn your head to look at him, your eyes meet his. “you can’t just up and leave like that.” his voice comes out soft, like something he wasn’t supposed to say, you stare at him, knowing he means more than just right now.

you shake your head at him “i didn’t do it on purpose. i had work to do and grief to handle.” you speak quickly, and before you can find another reason why you didn’t come back for last three years without a word. “all of us loved your grandparents, and we all grieved them and had to work during that time!” finally, the emotion he wanted to express are being let out.

Robin walks up past you two and speak out to you “i’ve fixed all i could in this short time. i’ll be back tomorrow morning to do what needs more time.” you thank her quickly and she walks through the door, shutting it behind her.

“i’ll walk you back.” Sebastian mumbles out, not letting go of your hand and leading you down the trail back to the farmhouse. you walk with him silently, your eyes moving from your joined hands to the back of his head then back down to the ground beneath your feet.

he stops when you reach the front door and you look at him, but you don’t want him to leave just yet. slowly, you step toward the bench and sits down, tugging him down next to you and he obliges.

“i’m really sorry, Sebastian.” you turn your body toward him. “i should’ve found a moment to text or call you guys. i missed you all so much. more than you can imagine” you say to him, wishing you had the courage to drop the plurals and just speak to him directly. Sebastian turns to face you, holding your cheek and looking into your eyes, searching for the hidden second meaning.

your bottom lip quivers when you speak your next words, “i have never felt so alone, Seb.” he pulls you against him and holds you tightly against him. one of the things you liked most about Sebastian is that he always put you first and he never asked too many questions.

“we’re here for you now.” he spoke into your scalp after he pressed his lips to your head like he’d always done when you needed him the most but he didn’t know what to say.

you wrapped your arms around him tightly, seeking security in him. you wished you weren’t so sad, you wished you were coming back on a normal summer break.

“i missed you, Sebastian.” you shift closer to him and look up at him, tears sitting on your waterline. he looks at you and holds your cheek again, rubbing the apple of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “i missed you so much, you have no idea.” his voice came out below a whisper and he leaned his head close to yours.

you closed your eyes, letting your tears slips down your cheeks and you turned your chin up. Sebastian watched you then a small smirk etched itself onto his lips. “you’re cute. but, i am still upset at you.” when he spoke, his breath fanned against your lips and your eyes blinked open.

“kiss me upset, then. just please kiss me.” you gripped his shirt and your eyebrows furrowed, making doe eyes up at him. “i can never resist when you ask me like that. you know that too well.” he mumbles out before pressing his lips to yours. your left hand reaches up behind to hold his head and press your lips deeper against his.

Sebastian kissed you like a starved man, he sucked on your bottom lip like he wanted to inhale it. his right hand slid underneath your shirt, his usually cold hands felt hot against your skin. your body arched into him and he moved his hand down to your bum and lifted you up and onto his lap. he stood and held you up in his arms and walks into the farmhouse with you, he walked — more so stumbled — all the way to your bedroom and he laid you down on your sheet-less bed, your lips never parting.

both all your items of clothing come off after mumbled whispers of ‘can i- should we?’ ‘yes, yes please.’ your legs part for him invitingly when his cold fingers trail down your thighs and he slides your panties to the side and he slowly rolls small circles on your clit causing you to moan against his lips.

Sebastian’s lips leave yours and he slowly kisses down your neck, sucking on your skin on sensitive areas he took the time to learn all those years ago. your hand reaches up to grip his black hair tightly, your hips lift up off the mattress when his long fingers push into your sobbing hole. your irises flutter behind your eyelids when his fingers curl up and the pads of his fingers press against the gummy spot hidden within your walls.

he lifts your bra over your soft breasts and sucks on your nipples, tugging on them with his teeth just the way you like. your thighs shake in pleasure and a soft moan leaves your lips. “you sound so pretty, baby.” Sebastian grumbled against your skin.

suddenly, Sebastian’s fingers slipped out of you, causing you to whine and look at him with a pout on your lips. he smiles down at you and presses a quick kiss to your lips then pulls he pants and boxers down, he presses his tip against your clit and he rolls his hips. the wetness of his precum on his too mixed with the wetness from your sopping cunt filled the room with wet sloshing sounds mixed with your mixed heavy breaths and lightly whimpers from you both.

“Sebastian..” you whine his name out, he kisses behind your ear and he drags his tongue down your neck, feeling you shudder underneath him. “say my name like that again pretty,” he mumbles softly behind your ear, he holds his dick and slowly rubs his tip up and down your slit, “and i’ll give you want.” your body trembled in pleasure and you whined out his name again, lifting your hips needingly again.

he nods his head understandingly and he presses a softly kiss to your forehead then he sucks in a breath when his tip presses against your hole and he slowly thrusts into you. you moan at the way he stretched you out, he’s thicker than you remember.

when you look up at him, he looks down at you, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat then he moves his hips back and forth again and again, his head drops down next to yours and he moans out in your ear. your legs lift up and wrap around his hips, trying to get him closer and deeper in you.

his hands found purchase on the back of your knees, he presses your knees closer to your torso and his tip reaches deeper and presses against your g-spot in a way you’ve craved for three years that only he can do. you and Sebastian spent a lot of time learning each other’s bodies together when he would distract you from your grief, it was basically muscle memory at this point.

he swallowed hard again and his voice came out strained, “baby, promise me- ahh.. you’ll keep in touch when you leave again,” your heart melts immediately and you grip his hair tighter then you press your lips against his in a feverish kiss, tongue, teeth and all the saliva in the world.

he does eventually pull away to breathe and that’s when you speak, “i’m not- mmh.. i’m n-not leaving.!” that’s when his hips come to a halt and he stares down at you, panting heavily, “what?”

you nod your head, smiling softly up at him, “i’m staying in Pelican Town, with you and, everyone else.” he blinks down at you, as if he’s unable to believe when you’re saying then his arms wrap around your body and he lifts you off the bed a little then his hips move at a pace unknown to you and it knocks the air out your lungs.

Sebastian can you feel your walls pulsing around him, tightening then releasing then tightening again rhymically, this causes him to whine in your ear and twitch in you. he feels like he can’t breathe from how good you feel, his jaw falls open and he can’t even get his words out to tell you he’s so close; all he can do is moan lowly along with your higher-pitched ones.

soon enough the pulsing becomes more intense then your jaw falls open to gasp as your body stiffens then shakes beneath him as you cum the hardest you have in years and watching you, Sebastian’s thrusts get sloppy and his hips stutter before he cums in you. he paints your walls white with his load.

panting heavily above you, Sebastian speaks again, “were you.. telling the truth, just now?” you nod and affectionately rub his back, he slowly pulls out and lays down next to you. “ ‘m not going anywhere. Grandpa gave me the farm in his will.” you say, your voice soft and tired. Sebastian swears this could be the best day ever.

he soon gets up and cleans you off in the bathroom then puts his underwear and pants back on and puts sheets and blankets on the bed then lays you down and lays next to you. you two look into each others eyes, nothing a word to one another. Sebastian sighs softly then he presses a kiss to your lips, “why didn’t you come back?”

“i wanted to,” you start, still thinking up a good way to form your next words and give a good enough reason, “every summer, i wanted to, but i just couldn’t. after grandpa died too, i didn’t think i would be able to come back and even try act as if i could manage sleeping alone here.” you suck in a breath and avoid eye contact with him.

“i would’ve slept with you. all of us would have done that for you. we will do that for you if you need it.” he pulls you closer to him, “i will do that for you.” his voice comes out low, like not even you were meant to hear him.

an: heeeyy guyss! i know i lowkey abandoned yall, but i hope you like this! accept this as my peace offering 😺🫴🏾

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Okay. So you know how industrial agriculture overuses synthetic fertilizers loaded with nitrogen to make up for the decades of soil degradation that intensive farming practices cause? So not only does a lot of this fertilizer end up as runoff in our waterways every time it rains, but while it's still on land it's messing with the surrounding ecology, particularly plants.

See, nitrogen normally exists primarily in our atmosphere, and most organisms can't absorb atmospheric nitrogen, even though it's a crucial nutrient. However, some soil bacteria are capable of drawing this nitrogen in and converting it to a form of ammonia accessible to plants. These bacteria can be found in little nodules of many plants' roots, and make the nitrogen available to their hosts in return for a nice safe place to live. When these nitrogen-fixing plants shed leaves or other parts, or die entirely, the nitrogen in their tissues is then released into the local ecosystem as they decay.

However, when we started supercharging farmland and gardens with tons of extra nitrogen through fertilizers, we threw off the entire nitrogen cycle. Plants native to a given ecosystem have evolved to tolerate a certain balance of nutrients, to include some that may be naturally scarce, and when the nutrient balance suddenly shifts significantly, it causes a lot of upset. With more nitrogen filtering through nearby ecosystems, and those downstream, nitrogen-fixing plants are suddenly losing their competitive edge, and are becoming less common in these places. Over time, they can become locally extinct, breaking whatever bonds they had with other species in the ecosystem, which often leads to even more ecological unraveling.

So you see, more fertilizer isn't always the answer. When engaging in habitat restoration efforts in many parts of the United States, it's important to work with the native soil instead of adding a lot of amendments. Those amendments can actually make it easier for invasive weeds to get a roothold because they often come from places with richer soil, or are simply more able to make the most of the excess nutrients to grow faster and out-compete native plants. Adding too much nitrogen, whether intentionally or as a byproduct of agriculture, makes it even tougher for native ecosystems to thrive in disturbed areas adjacent to farms. On the other hand, making sure your restoration site has native nitrogen-fixers and other pioneer plants helps set the stage for long-term success, while making conditions less favorable to nutrient-hungry invasive species.

We already had plenty of reason to curb the overuse of synthetic fertilizers; this study just adds another argument in that regard.

[huxhsz]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sa susunod na buhay.

— synopsis: in a country on the brink of revolution, two childhood friends find themselves on opposite sides of a war. one, a katipunero, fighting for freedom. the other, a guardia civil, sworn to uphold the crown.

— note/s: i don't even want to THINK abt exams. this is my copium... spanish officer caleb... "kuya caleb" this "basketbolista caleb" that what if spanish officer caleb haha. SOMEONE SAVE ME ARGHHH. also js to preface i suck at filipino and i. dont know any spanish so uh... yeah... (this work is purely fictional and does not intend to offend or misrepresent anyone. it is inspired by historical events but takes creative liberties for storytelling purposes. any depictions of colonial-era racism, discrimination, and violence are meant to reflect the realities of the time and not to promote or glorify them.)

— content warning/s:

violence & execution – gunfire, war-related violence, and character death

historical racism & discrimination – colonial-era classism and racial prejudice

explicit language – swearing in both tagalog & spanish (+ english if you include translations)

— translations:

amo -> master/boss/employer

hacendero -> landowner/plantation owner/farm owner

hacienda -> large estate/plantation

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

the first time you met caleb, you were six, barefoot in the fields behind the great house. he was in stiff linen clothes, expensive leather shoes sinking into the mud.

you hated him immediately.

"ay, dios mío, qué asco," (oh, my god, how disgusting.) he muttered, shaking wet soil from his shoe.

you crossed your arms. "wala ‘yan sa akin kung marumi ka." (i don’t care if you get dirty.)

his head snapped up, violet eyes burning in the late afternoon sun. he hadn’t expected you to speak. much less talk back. the amo—his father, the hacendero—had told you to bring his son around the hacienda. but you didn’t like the way he looked at the world, chin up, like everything belonged to him.

you, a farmer’s child, barefoot and tanned from the sun. him, born into wealth, the son of a spanish officer. you were never meant to be equals.

but that didn’t stop him from showing up every afternoon. didn’t stop him from stealing mangoes with you, whispering tagalog under his breath like it was something to be ashamed of. it didn’t stop you from sharing dreams under the balete tree, laughing as you raced through the fields, finding home in the most unexpected place.

it didn’t stop him from calling you his best friend.

it didn’t stop you from pretending you weren’t.

but childhood was not forever.

at twelve, he was sent to spain. when he returned at nineteen, his skin was paler, his tagalog stiffer, and his uniform—guardia civil blue.

at twenty, you burned your first hacienda .

at twenty-one, you stood on opposite sides of the war.

the first time you saw him again, it was not as friends but as enemies.

you were captured. the revolution was gaining strength, but your luck had run dry that night. the ambush failed. the spanish forces were ready. half your comrades were dead.

and now, here you were, on your knees in a bloodstained courtyard, hands tied behind your back, the barrel of a rifle pressed to your skull.

then— his voice.

"huminto." (stop)

the soldier hesitated.

you didn’t. your head snapped up, and there he was.

caleb.

older, taller. the boy you once knew now a man in a crisp blue uniform, sword at his hip, medals gleaming under lantern light.

"dalhin siya sa selda." (take them to the cell.) his voice was steady.

it wasn’t mercy.

it was something crueler.

the cell was damp. the air thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and death. you sat in the dark, wrists raw from the rope.

footsteps.

the door creaked open. a figure stepped inside.

caleb.

your breath hitched. the lantern in his hand flickered, casting sharp shadows across his face.

"tangina mo," (fuck you) you spat.

"pareho pa rin," (still the same) he murmured. his tagalog had that old hesitation, that foreign lilt. it made you want to hit him.

you surged forward, but the chains yanked you back. he didn’t flinch.

"bakit?" (why?)  your voice was raw. "bakit ka bumalik?" (why did you come back?)

he looked at you for a long moment. then, softly—

"bakit ka lumaban?" (why did you fight?)

you laughed, bitter. "alam mo na ang sagot." (you already know the answer.)

his jaw tightened. "bukas ka papatayin." (you’ll be executed tomorrow.)

you knew that. you’d known that since the moment they caught you. "at ano ngayon?" (and so what?)

his grip on the lantern tightened. "may paraan pa para makaalis ka." (there’s still a way for you to escape.)

you barked out a laugh. "gusto mong ipagkanulo ko sila?" (you want me to betray them?)

something in his expression flickered. "ayaw kitang mamatay." (i don’t want you to die.)

"putangina, caleb." (fuck you, caleb.) your voice broke. "ikaw ang pumapatay sa amin." (you’re the one who’s killing us.)

he exhaled sharply, like you had punched him. "sa tingin mo ito ang gusto ko?" (do you think this is what i want?)

"sa tingin ko may pagpipilian ka." (i think you have a choice.)

silence.

he knelt before you, hands hovering—like he wanted to touch you, but couldn’t. "sinubukan ko, mi alma." (i tried, my soul.) his voice was barely a whisper. "sinubukan kong baguhin ito." (i tried to change this.)

"kung ganoon, bakit may mga bangkay pa rin sa lansangan?" (then why are there still corpses in the streets?)

he had no answer.

you leaned forward, until your foreheads almost touched. "sabihin mo sa akin, guardia civil." (tell me, guardia civil.) your voice was quiet now, low and bitter. "pag pinaputok nila ang baril bukas, ikaw ba ang huling makakakita sa akin?" (when they fire the guns tomorrow, will you be the last one to see me?)

his breath hitched.

he didn’t answer.

you didn’t expect him to.

the morning was golden. too beautiful for a day meant for dying.

the field was quiet, save for the distant cries of vivas and��mabuhays —a reminder that the revolution would not die with you.

you stood, hands tied, staring down the firing squad.

and then— him.

caleb. standing at the front, his uniform crisp, his expression carved from stone.

he would not look at you.

your chest ached.

someone began reading the charges.

"…sa salang pagtataksil laban sa espanya, sa pangunguna ng paghihimagsik, sa pag-aalsa laban sa korona…" (...for the crime of treason against spain, for leading the rebellion, for rising against the crown…)

you weren’t listening.

instead, you turned to caleb.

and in your mother tongue, you spoke—softly, just for him.

"sa susunod na buhay..." (in the next life…)

his breath caught.

his hands clenched at his sides.

but he did not answer.

he could not.

the command rang through the air.

"fuego." (fire.)

gunfire.

pain.

falling.

the sky above, endless and blue.

blood pooling in the earth, soaking into the roots of the land you fought for.

your lips parted, breath shallow.

"…huwag mo na akong hanapin." (don’t look for me anymore.)

then stillness.

then silence.

and caleb—standing over your lifeless body, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, his breath shuddering, his uniform pristine except for the mud on his boots.

he did not kneel.

he did not weep.

he only whispered, hoarse and broken,

"sa susunod na buhay." (in the next life.)

and turned away.

[reasonsforhope]

"In response to last year’s record-breaking heat due to El Niño and impacts from climate change, Indigenous Zenù farmers in Colombia are trying to revive the cultivation of traditional climate-resilient seeds and agroecology systems.

One traditional farming system combines farming with fishing: locals fish during the rainy season when water levels are high, and farm during the dry season on the fertile soils left by the receding water.

Locals and ecologists say conflicts over land with surrounding plantation owners, cattle ranchers and mines are also worsening the impacts of the climate crisis.

To protect their land, the Zenù reserve, which is today surrounded by monoculture plantations, was in 2005 declared the first Colombian territory free from GMOs.

...

In the Zenù reserve, issues with the weather, climate or soil are spread by word of mouth between farmers, or on La Positiva 103.0, a community agroecology radio station. And what’s been on every farmer’s mind is last year’s record-breaking heat and droughts. Both of these were charged by the twin impacts of climate change and a newly developing El Niño, a naturally occurring warmer period that last occurred here in 2016, say climate scientists.

Experts from Colombia’s Institute of Hydrology, Meteorology and Environmental Studies say the impacts of El Niño will be felt in Colombia until April 2024, adding to farmers’ concerns. Other scientists forecast June to August may be even hotter than 2023, and the next five years could be the hottest on record. On Jan. 24, President Gustavo Petro said he will declare wildfires a natural disaster, following an increase in forest fires that scientists attribute to the effects of El Niño.

In the face of these changes, Zenù farmers are trying to revive traditional agricultural practices like ancestral seed conservation and a unique agroecology system.

Pictured: Remberto Gil’s house is surrounded by an agroforestry system where turkeys and other animals graze under fruit trees such as maracuyá (Passiflora edulis), papaya (Carica papaya) and banana (Musa acuminata colla). Medicinal herbs like toronjil (Melissa officinalis) and tres bolas (Leonotis nepetifolia), and bushes like ají (Capsicum baccatum), yam and frijol diablito (beans) are part of the undergrowth. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

“Climate change is scary due to the possibility of food scarcity,” says Rodrigo Hernandez, a local authority with the Santa Isabel community. “Our ancestral seeds offer a solution as more resistant to climate change.”

Based on their experience, farmers say their ancestral seed varieties are more resistant to high temperatures compared to the imported varieties and cultivars they currently use. These ancestral varieties have adapted to the region’s ecosystem and require less water, they tell Mongabay. According to a report by local organization Grupo Semillas and development foundation SWISSAID, indigenous corn varieties like blaquito are more resistant to the heat, cariaco tolerates drought easily, and negrito is very resistant to high temperatures.

The Zenù diet still incorporates the traditional diversity of seeds, plant varieties and animals they consume, though they too are threatened by climate change: from fish recipes made from bocachico (Prochilodus magdalenae), and reptiles like the babilla or spectacled caiman (Caiman crocodilus), to different corn varieties to prepare arepas (cornmeal cakes), liquor, cheeses and soups.

“The most important challenge we have now is to save ancient species and involve new generations in ancestral practice,” says Sonia Rocha Marquez, a professor of social sciences at Sinù University in the city of Montería.

...[Despite] land scarcity, Negrete says communities are developing important projects to protect their traditional food systems. Farmers and seed custodians, like Gil, are working with the Association of Organic Agriculture and Livestock Producers (ASPROAL) and their Communitarian Seed House (Casa Comunitaria de Semillas Criollas y Nativas)...

Pictured: Remberto Gil is a seed guardian and farmer who works at the Communitarian Seed House, where the ASPROL association stores 32 seeds of rare or almost extinct species. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

Located near Gil’s house, the seed bank hosts a rainbow of 12 corn varieties, from glistening black to blue to light pink to purple and even white. There are also jars of seeds for local varieties of beans, eggplants, pumpkins and aromatic herbs, some stored in refrigerators. All are ancient varieties shared between local families.

Outside the seed bank is a terrace where chickens and turkeys graze under an agroforestry system for farmers to emulate: local varieties of passion fruit, papaya and banana trees grow above bushes of ají peppers and beans. Traditional medicinal herbs like toronjil or lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) form part of the undergrowth.

Today, 25 families are involved in sharing, storing and commercializing the seeds of 32 rare or almost-extinct varieties.

“When I was a kid, my father brought me to the farm to participate in recovering the land,” says Nilvadys Arrieta, 56, a farmer member of ASPROAL. “Now, I still act with the same collective thinking that moves what we are doing.”

“Working together helps us to save, share more seeds, and sell at fair price [while] avoiding intermediaries and increasing families’ incomes,” Gil says. “Last year, we sold 8 million seeds to organic restaurants in Bogotà and Medellín.”

So far, the 80% of the farmers families living in the Zenù reserve participate in both the agroecology and seed revival projects, he adds."

-via Mongabay, February 6, 2024

[nightlyrequiem]

Hiii, so I have a request, would it be possible to make a story where Valeria is the evil queen in her kingdom but her fiancée is the sweetest person in the kingdom? Also I love your work, keep it up, kisses, kisses ❤️💋

Hiii!

Before I even started writing fanfiction for Valeria, I wanted to write something like a royal/regency AU! I never got around to it because I never knew what to do. This was fun and definitely more challenging then what I usually do thanks :3

Also thank you lots XX

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Royal!AU, Implied Time Period Misogyny (But Not A Lot.), Implied Time Period Homophobia (Barely), Wedding

Blue Blooded

Valeria is as cold and cruel as the unforgiving north. She's led her own army to many different battles over the course of her twenty-year reign. Uncommon for rulers and even less common for women. She caused quite the stir, many believing women were too delicate and weak for war. Valeria's name quickly became known and feared. Reina de la Muerte. She leaves a trail of bodies wherever she goes. The treatment of her servants is poor, and the treatment of her subjects is worse. She rejoices in the fear induces.

One of the duties of a ruler is to produce an heir. Her advisors have been pestering her about finding a husband since she was coronated at seventeen. Something they quickly learned to stop doing. Her patience for men has always been low. Not once has she ever looked at one and felt any sort of connection. Valeria knew it was likely that she never would. Not when she only felt something when looking at another woman. 

You were nothing more than a peasant. With a family who owned a failing farm. Cruelty breeds cruelty. Valeria's subjects have been forced into selfishness to survive. There's very little room for empathy when you're one day of work away from starvation. And yet, there you were. Dancing and laughing with a pack of filthy children. Despite the dullness to your skin and hair, you almost seemed to glow. Like there was a light inside of you strong enough to dispel the darkness Valeria had cast over the land. You were the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. It wasn't a one-time moment. Valeria had never noticed you before but one she did it's like she couldn't ever not see you. Using what little precious coins you have to buy food for the erratic beggar. Offering casual conversation to the local hag. Showing love to the mange-ridden strays prowling the cobble streets.

when Valeria was fourteen, her father had tried to set her up with princes of neighboring kingdoms. A political move to bring peace and potential allyship. Valeria fought tooth and nail. Refusing to even meet with the men. How she hated these traditions. Why should anyone but her decide who she marries? And yet, she found herself darkening your doorstep, nonetheless. Armed guards at her back. Your home was hardly more than a shack. Thatch roof coming loose at the ends and the smell of rot in the wood. The soil on your land was barren. Only cacti and weeds able to grow. A few sickly chickens ran loose around. Your father had answered the door, eyes yellowed from having one too many a drink. Asking for your hand in marriage was met with little resistance. His only trifle being that you were both women. Even that trepidation of course, was only told to her through his body language. Only the most stupidest of people would be willing to challenge the wants of Valeria. 

Though with her reputation and promises of a handsome dowry... it didn't take long to get his agreement. Not that it would have mattered. Valeria would have burned down your little farm down and taken you anyway.

The night sky is clear. A dark, inky, endless void. An infinity of stars stretches across its expanse. It's only a week until your wedding and with every day Valeria spends you, she only becomes more enamored. Valeria gently grasps your left hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. There is no escort to keep watch over you two in the castle gardens. Just another rule and tradition Valeria has stomped on and discarded like nothing.

"You look lovely in the moonlight." She murmurs. you blink and look away nervously. You're as timid as a wood mouse. Something that both endears and irritates Valeria. She wants you to be comfortable. To bare your teeth in an uncontrolled smile, she longs to know what your laugh sounds like. 

"Thank you."

She sighs. Lowering her hand and yours into her lap. Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She says.

"I am looking forward to it." You reply politely. A cool breeze blows through the area, disturbing her dark hair.

"No," Valeria shakes her head. "be honest with me. Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She demands softly.

Valeria watches you hesitate, trying to decipher if this is a trap or not. That you'll suffer harsh consequences for your honesty. Valeria isn't playing mind games with you, nor will she punish you. There is no wrong answer. Just a lovestruck woman desperate to know her fiancée's true feelings.

"I'm... anxious." You admit, not looking at her. Your free hand picks up a stray leaf, moving your thumb over the lines and groves.

"And me? What are your feelings around me?" She asks quietly. Valeria is no fool. She knows you don't really love her yet. That you're wary of her.

"... I'm not sure how I feel about you." You sigh. Letting go of the leaf. It flutters to the ground. You raise your gaze and meet her eyes. "When I came home, and my father told me of my betrothment to you I cried. You are cruel and unjust."

All things true, Valeria knows. She even prides herself on it, but hearing you say it doesn't make her feel as good about it. Your eyes dart across her face, searching for any sign of anger. When you find none, you continue.

"I thought I may faint when you asked to meet for the first time. I was dreading it." You murmur. "But then you weren't like anything I expected."

"I am exactly like how you expected." She counters gently. Giving your hand a small squeeze. "I am mean, and selfish, and bad. Everything said about me is true and I regret nothing. But I promise you this, I will be none of those things to you."

Your eyes seem to dim in disappointment. You had assumed that perhaps she was misunderstood. Valeria hates to disappointment you, but she won't hide what she is. A monster in royal robes.

"Oh." 

"You're as precious as the crown." Valeria whispers. "An angel in the flesh. It's rare to meet someone not turned bitter by their circumstances. My - our - subjects will love you."

"But they don't love you." You reply. Frowning.

"I don't need their love, but they need yours." She sighs. She needs it too. Something that will soften her sharp edges.

Valeria sighs and leans towards you. Resting her forehead on your shoulder. For a second, she's a child again, not yet corrupted by her own cruelty. Like that inherit goodness inside of you is contagious.

Valeria seldom feels nervous, but waiting at the altar in her wedding gown, she can feel her palms growing clammy. Eyes are locked onto Valeria while she waits for her bride to be walked down the aisle. Subjects who silently disagree with how everything is progressing but hold no power to speak out. You and your father round the corner. Your extravagant white dress trailing behind you, an intricate lace veil hiding your face from view. The sight makes her heart swell. Your father walks you up to the altar and hands you off to Valeria. signifying the beginning of your new life.

Valeria takes your hands, catching the barest of glimpses of your face beneath the veil.

"We are gathered here today in the royal unification of these two individuals." The officiant begins. "Repeat these words after me before the lord, 'I promise to love you always, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you until death.'" You and Valeria both repeat his words. Valeria with a little more enthusiasm. You two say your 'I do's'. "Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you... wife and... wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Without hesitation Valeria lifts your veil. Your eyes glint in the light. She grabs ahold of your face with all the gentleness she can muster and brings her lips to yours. Finally tasting you for the first time. Your lips are soft, moulding to hers with ease. The kiss is short lived, but it won't be the last. Valeria pulls away and smiles. Something small and genuine, reserved only for you. To her surprise, your lips twitch up ever so slightly. Returning that sweet smile for a moment. The public crowd rises and gives their reluctant cheers. A few sounding more genuine than the others. Perhaps hoping that your kind nature rubs off on her.

[phoenixyfriend]

Ko-fi prompt from IndigoMay:

What would be the economic impact if people could magically grow whatever food they liked? Including fodder for animals.

This is a very wide-ranging question, like... when was the magic introduced? What was the state of agriculture before that? Is this food generated from existing matter, delivered by gods, or something else?

I'm going to narrow this to:

What would happen if people could, starting tomorrow, grow any plant...

That is edible, by either humans or livestock, with appropriate treatment.

Without delay, meaning that the time sink is several minutes instead of weeks or months.

Without concerns for weather or other natural dangers like fungal infections or pests, or requirements for water or fertilizer.

Without depleting soil nutrients, so long as they have arable land to work with.

Without relying on fresh seeds or other 'raw ingredients' like leaf cuttings.

Well... let's start small.

Personal Basis - people who are not farmers

People who do not normally grow things would start angling to acquire some kind basic gardening implements. For some, like those who live in the suburbs, this would be as simple as going into the backyard. For those in cities, they'd need to get a window box or similar to use. If you have free, guaranteed fresh plant matter, that's already a good thing, but the time and care required to keep a garden alive is more than some people can manage due to work or children or housing. With immediate food that requires minimal effort, a lot of those hurdles are removed. You can grow the two tomatoes you need for dinner, and then put the pot of soil away for tomorrow.

The cost of

Personal Basis - small farmers

The obvious impacts for those who are small farmers is that people are less likely to buy their raw ingredients. Most of these small farmers would start looking into modifying their operations to do things that require processing.

Growing apples in your house for a snack is fine--if you have a pot big enough for a small tree, and a way to dispose of the wood if it's a one-time thing--but if you want applesauce or cider or pie, someone who knows how to cook or bake needs to do that part. You can grow wheat, but your chances of having the necessary tools to grind flour are slim. You can grow cashews, but fuck knows how you're going to process that without poisoning yourself! You can grow grapes on your trellis, but that doesn't mean you have the knowledge to make wine without accidentally going straight to vinegar. You can grow corn, but that doesn't mean you know the best way to dry it to make popcorn.

So small farms shift to those products that either need processing, or are part of an animal-based food. This includes things like flowers for bees. You can't really control bees, so just 'grow and go' might incite the bees to leave somehow. Maybe they can sense magic! Who knows!

Another option would be to focus on unique or heirloom things. If you go to a farmer's market, you might be going just to see all the fruits you've never encountered before. If there's an apple stand one year, and suddenly you can grow your own apples at home, then maybe what they start doing is growing unique or rare cultivars that you've never heard of, and that's their new niche. It's not that you can't grow the apples, but would you grow them if you've never heard of them? Plus, the apple stand is doing sauces and ciders now.

Mid-tier and large farms

These farms will start to focus in on large-scale crops that don't go straight to tables or cooking pots in homes. Scrap the eggplants, the cucumbers, the blueberries. Focus on:

Fruits and vegetables that are needed for popular secondary products, like tomatoes (ketchup, marinara), or oranges (juice), or corn (anything with fructose corn syrups, popcorn).

Plants that are popular but NEED processing to be edible, like coffee beans, cocoa beans, or wheat, that most people just don't have.

Plants that are needed in massive quantities for animal feed, such as alfalfa or chicken grains.

Now, I think these large farms would still be in production. We'd see a massive reduction in water usage, which is great (except for cranberries, I guess), but many of these products would still be needed in quantities that need industrial levels of processing. Someone needs to pick the oranges, to drive them to the juicing facility, the facility needs to juice and treat and preserve and bottle them, and then that needs to be driven to the store. The reduced time to grow, reduced water usage, reduced waste from natural predators or dangers, and general ability to plan things more efficiently would result in lower costs for many of these products in a truly free market... but would possibly also rise in cost as companies try to maintain a consistent flow of profit.

Sure you can make the juice at home, but what if you're already at work? There's still a demand for products; most of us can get water from a tap at home, but there are still convenience stores selling bottled water on every other corner in a big city.

I think the most interesting of these concerns would be grazing animals, like sheep, cattle, and goats. Being able to 'refresh' the grass of a single field without having to rotate the animals to new pastures once they've eaten away at one, and without damaging the nutrient profiles of the one they're staying at, means reduced deforestation or soil destabilization in agricultural areas. We'd see a fairly significant stalling of things like the decimation of Mongolia's grasslands if the goats didn't need as much grazing land.

Maintaining the meat industry would be one of the most constant sources of demand for large-scale agriculture, given that other products could go through cycles to more efficiently use land. You can grow and harvest oranges for Tropicana on Monday, grapes for Welch's on Tuesday, soy beans for Silk on Wednesday, tomatoes for Heinz on Thursday, and so on. They probably won't need more than they used to.

Meanwhile, the cows gotta eat. And eat. And eat.

Corporations

This one is fun! MONSANTO'S GONNA BE PISSED.

So, magically growing food, you don't need seeds, at least in this case. Or you can coax more product out of a seed you already have planted. You've gotten eight cycles corn out of this one stalk this season!

So Monsanto loses some of that insane seed monopoly situation.

You'd see a decrease in pesticides and anti-fungal products as agriculture speeds up a cycle by enough to prevent the spread of dangerous infestations. It's not going to kill your entire farm if you find fungus one day and have to burn it to prevent the spread. You lost one day's profit, not a full year's.

This impacts Monsanto too. Remember the Roundup debacle?

Now, to be clear, there are still plants that will rely on pesticides and anti-fungals. The premise only covers food, after all, so there are still important plants that will need longer, dedicated growing seasons.

Industry-wide shifts

Sooooooooooo a lot of the money starts to come from non-edible plants. This is your cottons, linens, hemps, latex/rubber trees, cork trees, lumber, and so on.

As the needed arable land necessary to feed humanity (and our livestock) decreases, more land is freed up for return to indigenous peoples, reclamation by nature, usage for alternate cultivation, housing, or... well, other capitalist ventures, like bitcoin mining or whatever.

On a geopolitical level, this causes some interesting shifts in places that draw their power from being 'breadbasket' nations. For instance, if you remember the start of the Russo-Ukrainian war, we saw some major pressures being placed by virtue of some countries (e.g. Lebanon, Pakistan) getting most of their wheat from Ukraine, and the war suddenly cutting off a massive portion of how they fed their people. Much of Ukraine's support, in those early days, derived from their importance as a breadbasket nation. If everyone can grown their own food, that moves the lines. Countries that are poor on space or water can stop relying on trade to survive in terms of water. Countries that rely on their agriculture to be able to trade for other things need to diversify their economies, and fast.

(Does mean that Saudi Arabia can stop using Arizona's water, though.)

The greatest shifts would come down to water usage and pollution, I think. Agriculture is currently one of the biggest contributors to the climate crisis, and the reduction of water use by farming would be a massive help. However, I'm less sure of how we'd see meat consumption change. The greater availability of fresh fruits and vegetables could result in a shift towards more plant-based diets worldwide, but just as easily we could see large agricultural corporations (and those that rely on them, like John Deere or the aforementioned Monsanto) market meat to consumers as a greater rate due to the profit margin.

Oh, also, I have a feeling that a lot of those corporations would try to get garden centers shut down, or buy out ceramic pot and planter factories. If you can't grow anything at home because you don't have a window planter, you have to buy from the store, right?