#experiment 3069

[unhinged-summer-fun]

burning flames or paradise

Written for Danktober 2022 Day 05: Heartbeat, Flame, National Do Something Nice Day. Go do something nice!

Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Summary: The mysterious man who'd taken up residence in the old forge had been drawing the interest of your abilities for some time now. But why?

Warnings: none.

Word Count: 3069

A/N: Soulmates make my knees weak.

[full danktober list here]

"I don't know about that one, girl. Seems awful bad news to me." You only idly listened as the old crone spoke, eyes staying fixed on the old forge. Someone had bought the place from that old crook Kieran, and was fixing it up little by little. There'd only ever been glimpses of this mysterious new owner, but today he was walking around the market doing his shopping like everyone else.

You recognized him from when he'd first come into town, camping on the outskirts several days before the first snowfall. You'd been returning from a long walk gathering herbs in the woods, and had briefly shared the doorway to the tavern with the man while you sought supper. The moment had been brief and sharp in its sudden bite at your attention, but you'd felt no fear the way you had with other men who rode through town. All the tension surrounding his arrival had broken when the barmaid mentioned seeing Kieran ride determinedly out of town, whistling gaily atop the horse the newcomer had come in on.

It was nearly deadwinter, now. He was still quite dour, that much was clear even from a distance. You knew where the old woman's concern came from, implying that the ill intents of man would sometimes hide themselves in plain sight, but your experience told you that it was safer to operate with the belief that the wicked would go to any extent to hide their nature. Many a wolf in your life had hidden beneath the mannered trappings of wool.

You wondered what this man was hiding, if his surly appearance was anything to go off of.

"Just the two today, thanks," you said softly, paying for your usual rashers of bacon. Before you could escape her entirely, she called out to warn you of the coming snow and you went on your way. You didn't need to hear any more of her foreboding suspicions. You had enough of that on your own.

Your shopping was finished after that, so you let yourself indulge a bit in just watching the people in the square. Unfortunately, you could no longer see the mysterious man anymore, and you sighed in disappointment, feeling silly a moment later. At least he's coming out into town at all. Can't expect too much from someone you didn't--

"Perdóneme, dama." You looked up into those eyes you'd been so enchanted by the first time you saw them.

Then, straddling the threshold facing him head-on, he'd glared at you for the crime of looking at him, and though his personality screamed ice, there was a hidden heat in his eyes you couldn't look away from. It felt... not familiar, but almost lonely. Not the heat of a wildfire or a cooking fire, but that of a small campfire, just to keep company by. Perhaps this was why he took over the forge, to have a piece of something warm and alive that only lived as long as you let it. You thought he somehow felt that you could see that, and rushed away into the night.

"That's alright," you said in a rush, catching your breath after a few long seconds of stunned silence. You feared he could hear your heart beating like a drum in your chest. You still were unafraid of him, only surprised to see him so close in much the same way as the first time, mere moments after he'd crossed your mind.

He looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, just like the first time as well, he grunted some pardon and continued on his way, leaving you to yours.

You thought of the exchange the rest of the day.

❖

His name was Tovar, the barmaid said that evening over supper. "Comes in to eat twice a day. Hardly says a word. Just pays for a plate and eats right over there by himself. Didn't come in this evening, though." You were only half-listening, imagining the kind of life this man--Tovar--must lead to stick to such a routine each day.

"He spoke in a different tongue when I saw him last," you said distractedly, trying to see what she knew but giving the air of politely continuing conversation. It had worked well in the city, and triply so out here, where conversation was so rarely satisfying to the soul.

"Aye, my Jan believe him a Spaniard. He passed by when he was making the shit deal with Kieran for the forge. You know it?"

"The deal?"

"No, but it was shit, though." You've said. "The tongue. Spainish."

"I don't," you admitted. But I do know that's not the name.

The barmaid just rose her eyes in mirth, leaning in to talk to you. "I'm sure he'd love to teach you. Seems right personable to be around, fine company." She teased, but you frowned behind your nervous laugh. The man wasn't here to defend himself, and you didn't like the idea of his homeland being something to pick fun over.

"I've got to get back. I'll see you."

"Get home safe. With the wind being as it is, only a fool would dawdle."

You left the tavern, pulling your shawl over your shoulders a bit tighter. She wasn't wrong, it would snow, but not until you got home.

❖

Your divine sense had warned you of the weather that morning, in a much more insistent way than it normally did. These portents typically came when your life needed them most, like a crack of lightning striking the well just before you normally would fetch water, or forewarning of a terrifying beast coming on a rampage through town. Occasionally, they were simpler things, calmer. Urges to walk in the woods, to take this turn and catch the light of a rainbow in the sky, or the passage of a family of deer. They cautioned you over food threatening to rot, sick individuals to avoid. Sometimes, they would hint about a new friend arriving to town.

In the case of Tovar, your sense had given you none of the warnings you were familiar with, only a deep interest surrounding the man. This, of course, sparked your curiosity and intrigued you even more than a newcomer to the village already would have. Even now several weeks after his arrival, the sense surrounding the snowstorm felt just as deeply meaningful, intense and vague toward you in the way Tovar himself had been, and you found yourself taking a fools' route back to your home, walking by the forge to see what you could make of it.

The cold nipped at your nose, prompting you to pull the shawl over your head and face to protect from the icy wind. The forge was dark and quiet when you approached. The last few days, you knew he had been working on cleaning the flue to the forge itself, the last and darkest task before the lighting of that blazing hearthflame. It was extremely foolish to attempt this with winter approaching so quickly, but despite this, he asked nobody for help, and nobody offered it.

The door swung open easily when you pressed on it, confirming your suspicions. The entire place was like ice, still and unsettling. "Hello?" you called. "Tovar?" The name felt unfamiliar on your tongue, but not unpleasant. Silence chilled and shook your composure more than the temperature, until you heard movement approach.

The man filled the doorway to the back room the way a damned door should. He was shadowed almost completely, but not enough to hide his shivering. He made a questioning noise of you and you became aware that you didn't quite know why you were here, only that you should have been.

"I... it's going to snow soon, do you have a fire?" It seemed polite enough to ask.

He scowled. "The previous forgemaster, he..." he waved at the darkened hearth and made a sound of disgust. "There is mold in the firewood pile he sold to me. Rats have eaten at the bellows. The trough holds more cracks than water. It is all useless." He huffed a frustrated breath, the air clouding before his face in the scant light.

"That's terrible, and you must be so cold," you said, eyebrows raising expectantly. If you were to leave now, you had no way of ensuring he would survive the night.

"Quite." Apparently, Tovar had run out of ideas, for a desperate man would have disclosed even one, here. He looked down and away, like this icy fate was meant for him, and he welcomed it like the judgment of heaven, knowing his destination anyway. Your mouth moved for you.

"Stay with me this night."

"What?" he said, looking up in suspicion.

You doubled down. "It's likely you'll be snowed in by morning. If you have no fire, you won't be found until spring. Stay with me, at my house."

He warred with himself over your offer. Were kindnesses proffered so rare in his life that he had to test each for poison? Your sense gave a gentle nudge of both confirmation and approval, and you felt yourself buckle down into your decision, ready to drag this man by the ear to your home if you needed to. He saw you set your jaw and sighed.

"Fine. Just until daybreak. Then I'm going to the wood to chop a tree." He disappeared behind the wall, presumably to grab his things. In a lull of the wind, you could hear him say, "...so I don't chop that man's head off myself." It made you smile, which you covered with your shawl when you heard him return. "I am ready."

"Let's hurry."

❖

The snow fell in earnest by the time you crossed the threshold to your small cottage. The small collection of walls and roofing had been handed down to you from some old dead relative who never even lived here, and you'd jumped at the chance to move away from the bustle of the city to someplace quieter, somewhere you could hear yourself think for the first time in a long while. In the city, the divine warnings had come several times a day, leaving you in a constant state of anxiety. You lived your life as if it was something to survive rather than enjoy.

Your fire built up quickly, the wood dry and healthy. When it reached its peak, you turned to look at Tovar, seeing him standing far away from you, like you would scream for help if he approached. "Come closer, you're trembling," you said gently, welcoming him toward the warming hearthstone.

It took a long, frozen moment, but he took one cautious step forward, then another, until he fell to his knees before the fire and held his hands close enough to the flames to alarm you somewhat. But he must have had no fear of fire, to choose to work a forge. "I can repay you for this," he said in a solemn tone, an air of vows and repentance about him. "I am in your debt."

"Enough of that," you muttered, shaking your head and removing your shawl to replace it with a warmer blanket off your bed. You threw the other blanket at his head. "Hasn't anyone done something nice for you just to do it? No expectations or repayment?"

He scowled at you when he pulled the blanket off his head. "No." The fabric had mussed at his hair a little, and with the snow having melted into the black locks, he looked properly disheveled. "Nobody."

You were astonished by his conviction. It must have shown enough to affect him, because he attempted to explain.

"I am... I am not a good man. I did... wicked things for money and war-glory for many years. Most of my life, in fact. You should not trust me."

"You were a mercenary," you translated.

"I was."

"You're a blacksmith now."

"Fine job of one, no?" he sighed, looking down and away.

Instincts spoke. "You've never done a wicked thing to me, nor anybody in the village. We've needed a forgeworker for a long time, and Kieran would never sell the place to anyone in town. Why wouldn't I trust you? You've given me no reason not to."

"My soul is damned, dama," he whispered, pleading with you to understand that which you refused to see.

"Yet you remain alive."

"A penance," he grumbled. "Do not trick me with riddles."

"You're very determined to live an unhappy life, aren't you?" you said with a laugh, standing and going for a small cellar and pulling out a loaf of bread you'd made that morning.

You jumped slightly when you turned and came face-to-face with the man again for a third time. Tovar was very clearly trying to intimidate you into changing your mind about him. Few had succeeded in scaring you off, though, and they'd tried everything to get you back. You looked up at him and saw the fire in your hearth reflected in his eyes, hot and full of depth you were sure you weren't imagining.

He looked just as he did when you first saw him, outwardly angry but unable to control the loneliness inside of him. He looked as he did the second time, confused and curious about you in the way you assumed wolves wondered if they could eat a new kind of prey. This third time, he looked mostly as though he had given up trying to hide himself from you. He expressed discomfort in being praised and assured, and frustrated at the self-imposed denial of his wishes to seek answers of you. He was never going to speak without you making the first move.

"Yes, you're very scary, Tovar. But are you hungry?"

He pulled a face of confusion and hardly moved as you walked past his large frame. If he didn't join you at the table a moment later, you would have wondered if the fire had proved useless and he'd actually frozen in place. He looked at you with a peering interest, eyes squinted at you like you were a puzzle he wanted to figure out. It made your heart skip a little to have such attention on you. You wanted him to know you, to solve you and enjoy mixing you up again.

"Here." You pulled off a piece of bread for him and took another for yourself. "There's more in the pantry you can help yourself to. "Romina said you weren't there for supper this evening."

"I've been struggling with the situation in the forge since midmorning." He sighed in frustration.

"Keeping a good forge running is basically a one-man job. Even in the cities, it takes a team of men to start one up."

"You've lived in cities?"

You looked away. "For a time. I've been on my own for quite awhile. Out here problems seemed smaller. Mistakenly, I believed myself to be the only harbinger of my own luck. I was dissuaded of that notion fairly quickly. If you would accept any help, I can offer it."

"That is doubtful," he said with a scoff.

What gall.

You quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Doubtful that I would accept it, not that you would offer. You offer help very... forcefully."

You laughed. "That's a word for it. Why would you doubt yourself? You've accepted my help once already." You motioned to his place before you.

The longer you talked in front of the fire, the more comfortable he grew, watching you describe your stories with a sort of tentative amusement. You told him stories of the city, your first years out here in this nameless village in a nameless land. How you thought, at one point, you would have to shed your own name just to prevent drawing attention.

Throughout it all, his eyes sparkled like the spitting fire sucked up the chimney, but the most he offered by way of humor were scoffs, sarcasm, and a face full of expressions to convey what he thought. You wondered when he'd laughed last, or if it had ever been something he'd done.

"I lied to you earlier," he said later on. You were dozing off in your chair as the wind howled and shrieked past the glass of the windowpanes. His proclamation came extremely close and quite suddenly, the way he seemed most comfortable around you. Were it any other, you would have filled with dread, but instead you were intrigued. When he didn't continue, you sat up straighter, gave him your full attention.

"There was someone I knew who did things for me without expectation. Kindnesses. They always felt misplaced. The company we kept was consistently that of liars and cheats and bad men. To have somebody... To know that he... His loyalty to me was... I did not understand it. I still do not understand him."

He looked troubled, recalling his time with his friend. It sounded like they were the only friend Tovar had who was worth awarding that title. You wondered briefly of the fate this friend suffered, whether they rested eternal or just somewhere else. It mattered not to Tovar. Their absence was as simple as death.

"Some friends just are."

"Are what?"

"Friends."

"Yes, some friends just are what?"

"Some friends are just... They're just friends to you. That's what friends do, what friendly people do. They choose to be nice to you because that's what they want to be. It's for no reason or holiday or ulterior motivation. It's for no promise of repayment or currying favor with the almighty, it's because they take pleasure in doing kind things."

He looked bewildered, and you expected some incredibly insulting, yet grateful thing to come out of his mouth next.

You were right.

"You are very strange."

"Thank you," you smiled. "I prefer the word friendly."

"Strange, and friendly." The barest hint of a smile crept across his lips, before disappearing again. "Thank you."

"For being strange and friendly?"

"Yes."

"I'll tell you a secret, Tovar." You leaned in a little, beckoning him closer. He rolled his eyes and leaned in when you didn't continue instantly. "I think you're pretty strange and friendly, too."

He looked surprised, a look that only intensified when he laughed aloud. Quite suddenly, though beyond your awareness, the storm outside felt just a little further away.

#unhingery #danktober 2022 #pero tovar x reader #f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

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[evoldir]

Fwd: Job: KonstanzU.EvolutionaryBiology

Begin forwarded message: > From: [email protected] > Subject: Job: KonstanzU.EvolutionaryBiology > Date: 29 April 2023 at 05:42:19 BST > To: [email protected] > > > > At the University of Konstanz in Germany we have an opening for an > > Assistant Professor/Jr. Group leader in evolutionary biology > > (earliest starting date: June 2023) > > The person we are looking for should be an evolutionary biologist who > works on questions in either molecular evolution, and/or the genomics > of speciation and adaptation. The position is intended for a Ph.D. > biologist, ideally with prior postdoc experience, a strong publication > record in evolutionary biology, and with expertise in evolutionary > genomics. A total of three research groups two of which are headed > by Junior Group Leaders make up the evolutionary biology group in > the Department of Zoology and Evolution Biology at the University of > Konstanz: https://ift.tt/gNP9Obi > > Our taxonomic emphasis is on fish, particularly on cichlid fish, but > also other fish model systems are used in our research on comparative > and speciation genomics and comparative developmental biology. We > are especially interested in the origins of (convergently evolved) > adaptations, speciation, and phylogenomics of cichlid fish adaptive > radiations from Nicaragua and Africa. We are open to consider anyone > investigating other interesting taxa and questions. > > For publications of the lab see: > > https://ift.tt/mHlS52D > > Space in a modern fish facility is available and the exclusive support > of a 50% technician will be provided to this new group. Wet lab space, > equipment, departmental facilities, including core-facilities in > proteomics and genomics, and annual financial support for research > expenses and student support, are provided by the University of > Konstanz. The lab has sufficient space and state-of-the-art equipment for > research in zoology, ichthyology, genomics, molecular, and developmental > biology. > > The University of Konstanz and the Department of Biology are among the > most highly ranked institutions in Germany and provide a lively and > academically outstanding research environment. Konstanz is a lovely > historic town located on Lake Constance on the southern border between > Germany and Switzerland. The position comes with a competitive salary, > and excellent health and retirement benefits. > > Appointments are initially for three years and are renewable for > several years after that. Habilitation is possible, and a modest amount > of teaching (in English at the BSc and MSc level) is required. The > Assistant Professor is expected to acquire external funding and to > supervise undergraduate, and graduate students as well as postdocs. > > The University of Konstanz is an equal opportunity employer and > tries to increase the number of women in research and teaching. The > University of Konstanz is committed to further the compatibility > of work and family life and has onsite child care facilities > https://ift.tt/sMIg67N > > Additional information contact:[email protected], > phone: [phone].  For our current research see: > https://ift.tt/L6EedAF > > Applications- including a statement of research interests, research > plans, a full CV and names and email addresses of 2-3 referees - should > be emailed to:[email protected]. > > Applications will be reviewed as soon as they are received, but should > be submitted by May 26th, 2023. > > Prof. > Dr. Axel Meyer, Ph.D. > Lehrstuhl > f�r Zoologie und Evolutionsbiologie > Department > of Biology > Building > M, Room M806 > University > of Konstanz > 78457 > Konstanz > Germany > > fon > + 49 (0)7531 88 4163 > fax > + 49 (0)7531 88 3018 > > secretary: > [email protected] > tel. > + 49 (0)7531 88 3069 > > https://ift.tt/7K6naWE > > Axel Meyer

#IFTTT #Email

[lewisonia]

Bioresorbable Polymers Market Opportunities on the Horizon by 2029

Research Nester published a report titled “Bioresorbable Polymers Market: Global Demand Analysis & Opportunity Outlook 2029” which delivers detailed overview of the global bioresorbable polymers market in terms of market segmentation by type, application, and by region.

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The global bioresorbable polymers market is estimated to garner a considerable CAGR over the forecast period, i.e., 2021–2029 owing to the increasing use of these polymers in the healthcare sector. Bioresorbable polymers are biodegradable, and they eventually dissolve in the body, which eliminates the need for a second surgery to remove the implants from the body. Furthermore, the growing patient pool of people suffering from orthopedic or musculoskeletal problems, is estimated to boost the market growth.

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The global bioresorbable polymers market is segmented on the basis of application into sutures, orthopedic fixation devices, dental implants, tissue staples, drug delivery devices, and others, out of which, the orthopedic fixation devices segment is foreseen to experience notable growth over the forecast period, on the back of rising incidences of orthopedic ailments, such as, fractures. Moreover, the use of these polymers, reduces the post-surgery complications, especially among the elders, which is estimated to boost the growth of the segment. On the other hand, the dental implants segment is projected to garner a significant market share during the forecast period owing to the increasing dental problems among people, as they are consuming foods high in sugar.

Regionally, the bioresorbable polymers market is segmented into five major regions including North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America and Middle East & Africa region. The market in the North America region is anticipated to witness a noteworthy growth over the forecast period on the back of the advanced healthcare facilities, and high R&D investment in the region. Moreover, presence of medical reimbursement and refund policies, is also estimated to impact the market growth positively. The market in the Europe region, is estimated to grow significantly during the forecast period, on the back of high geriatric population in the region, combined with improving healthcare sector and rising disposable income. According to the report of the World Bank, over one fifth of the total population, precisely 20.463% population is aged 65 years or above in the European Union.

Growing Application of Bioresorbable Polymers in Healthcare Likely to boost the Market Growth

The use of bioresorbable polymers as tissue staples, implants and drug delivery devices, is rapidly gaining prominence, owing to its biodegradability, which reduces the risk of complications after a surgery. This is estimated to boost the market growth. Moreover, the increasing cases of such ailments, owing to the increasing global geriatric population, and changing lifestyle, is estimated to promote the market growth.

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The profiling enfolds key information of the companies which encompasses business overview, products and services, key financials and recent news and developments. On the whole, the report depicts detailed overview of the global bioresorbable polymers market that will help industry consultants, equipment manufacturers, existing players searching for expansion opportunities, new players searching possibilities and other stakeholders to align their market centric strategies according to the ongoing and expected trends in the future. 

[my-timing-is-digital]

@quantumstarpaths​​ // alternate universe #6 — Discovery

The U.S.S. Discovery was the most remarkable vessel he had ever seen; the starship’s original objective was to research scientific phenomena, and one of the major projects had been the spore drive. Additionally to that, the Discovery had provided asylum to an extensive database of information pertaining to myriads of civilisations. The database itself had been transferred to the ship’s computer by an ancient, spacefaring sphere — a lifeform composed of organic and nonliving matter that had melded together.

    Shortly after The Burn, in 3069, the android had been reinstated in the Federation as Commander, and had offered his assistance to rebuild the fragile relations between the Federation and former Federation members, and helped reestablish Starfleet and its ideals. However, the main reason why they failed to accomplish these ambitions resided in the sheer lack of elucidation with respect to what had caused The Burn. Had there been a manufacturing fault that had affected approximately 90% of all of Starfleet’s starships and a variety of miscellaneous vessels? Had one of the Federation’s nemeses designed a weapon of mass destruction, and precipitated a chain reaction in all dilithium powered spacecrafts when activating it? Or had it simply been a coincidence thriving on misfortune?

    Whatever the source of this devastating incident was, Data was more than relieved that he had been Earth-bound, and all the synths and humans collaborating on his science projects at the time, had been safely at home, or had been occupied with work in one of his laboratories.

    Now, Admiral Charles Vance had assigned him to the Discovery. The purpose of his presence on the starship was to counsel the time travellers, and help them cope with the alterations the Federation had endured in their absence... Centuries of changes. Drastic changes. The crew required guidance. In the android’s opinion, he was more than qualified to carry out this particular task; he had lived through 8 centuries, and had been activated 80 years after the Discovery had left its original timeline. However, the main reason for his presence was to ensure that the Discovery crew would not go rogue, and jeopardise the Federation’s already volatile position. The last thing they needed was a confrontation resulting in a calamitous conflict with the Emerald Chain...

    The last couple of weeks, Data had taken it upon himself to get better acquainted with the crew; he assessed their mental stability and gauged their mood. He would often position himself strategically in the mess hall, or similar public areas. He tapped the crew’s conversations and engaged in conversations himself, if he deemed it necessary to acquire more information concerning a particular individual. It was a fairly simple assignment, especially now that he had access to his emotion chip, which he could activate or deactivate at his own convenience. However, he was proud to announce that, after centuries of practice, he could finally emulate human emotions and anticipate their responses accordingly, and without initiating his emotion chip. Although, he was still reliant on the chip when he wished to actually experience emotions...

    The android had been analysing the mess hall for 15 minutes, his yellow eyes searching the crowd for people, with whom he had yet to converse. Commander Paul Stamets, one of the senior officers and the spore drive specialist, had not yet been subjected to his tête-à-tête. Once Commander Stamets had seated himself, Data approached him, a gentle, half-smile furling the corner of his mouth upwards.

    ‘Good morning, Commander,’ he greeted politely. ‘Mind if I join you?’ the android added, gesturing to the vacant chair opposite the astromycologist.

#starter #quantumstarpaths #verse: discovery #star trek: discovery // post-season 2

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[everydaydeeds]

Day 3069 - Found a severely injured bird while I was out doing fieldwork today. All of the wildlife rehab hospitals were already closed for the day, so I brought it to a friend with rehab experience and a setup at home for overnight holding. 

#wildlife #rescue #everydaydeeds

[kleines-teufelchen]

what better way to kick off my side blog than with the coat of @apocalypticromantic666 's bbi boi Malphas?

Can't think of one 😁

Actually, it was the first coat of the more formal kind I ever made and I'm proud of the result!

The coat is based on the descriptions she gave me, though longer 🙈. The pinstripes are actually stitched in.

The buttons (yes my arrangement of them is not ideal, I know) are gilded.

And I made the lining fluffy warm, so this coat will be a good winter companion.

Have a photo of the lining in the making 🙈

Can't wait for American Post to get their shit back together, so Malphas' momma can get cozy in this 😁

#sewing #cosplay #the devil's plaything #experiment 3069 #apocalypticromantic666 #winter coat #love you sweety 💕 #overlord fanfiction #overlord oc

[thnks4thstrdst]

I posted 4,502 times in 2021

1433 posts created (32%)

3069 posts reblogged (68%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.1 posts.

I added 1,874 tags in 2021

#nova skye talks - 579 posts

#nova skye answers asks - 306 posts

#kaia talks - 175 posts

#dragon! - 170 posts

#kaia answers asks - 137 posts

#my demi experience - 126 posts

#guess who got tagged - 107 posts

#ask game - 101 posts

#nova and joey adventures - 93 posts

#kiddo! - 80 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#i just need to do homework but i’m also like lonely and i’ve now exhausted myself out with my music so people would be nice

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

love and sex do not make us human.

learning and making mistakes do.

do not call aro and ace people robots because they aren’t robots. they challenge what everyone in the past thought made us human.

love and sex do not set the boundaries of what a human is.

caring, making mistakes, having emotions, learning and creating make us human.

stop forcing more separation and instead have us celebrate what makes us different and unique.

254 notes • Posted 2021-04-08 04:26:51 GMT

#4

alright ace spec people!

don’t plan any heists or robberies for right now

the rest of the world can see us this week.

postpone your plans until next week

281 notes • Posted 2021-10-24 15:28:11 GMT

#3

I associate you w mickey ngl

as in @official-lucifers-child

wha???

he’s a celebrity and i’m just tiney blog

286 notes • Posted 2021-03-29 02:51:10 GMT

#2

gender is a performance and i’ve elected to hide backstage

355 notes • Posted 2021-05-16 23:29:52 GMT

#1

on this fine international asexual awareness day, please do not forget asexually is a spectrum and the people on the spectrum should be celebrated too!

7148 notes • Posted 2021-04-06 14:33:33 GMT

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#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[psychadelickate]

NCIS - Gibbs: Chocolate Brownies & Ice Cream

Imagine: Chocolate Brownies Word Count: 3069 Fandom: NCIS Pairing: Gibbs x Reader Rating: Teen Gif: Not Mine Requested: Prompt: Brownies and Ice Cream

The drive is long and hot and as uncomfortable as you are, you make no mention of it. Your siblings are fighting amongst themselves for some reason, and you make sure you don’t get anywhere involved in it. Finally, after what seems like forever, your dad stops the car and switches off the engine. You’re tempted to ask where you are, but you don’t. You’ve learnt to stop asking questions, instead observing everything around you with intense concentration.  “(Y/N),” you hear your dad yell for you as he walks into a store. You follow him, your little legs following as fast as they can carry you.  The cool air inside the store is a welcome respite on your skin and you’re happy to stand where you are; in front of the fan. However, that’s only until you see a dark-haired, brown eyed lady enter the store, holding a container in her hands. “Hey Honey, the brownies are ready,” she tells the man standing behind the counter. He has the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve seen.  “Cream or ice-cream?” she asks and before the man can give an answer you heard another voice, from behind you. “Ice cream’s always better.” 

You turn to look at the owner of the voice and for a moment you’re stunned. If you thought the man behind the counter had the bluest eyes, you were wrong. The boy who’d just come in has the prettiest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. That and the crooked smile is more than your five-year-old heart can handle. He’s almost as tall as your oldest brother but much better looking, you think. “What about you, honey?” you hear the lady ask and you turn around to find she’s looking at you.  “No thank you,” you answer, politely.  You see her about to say something else, when you feel something hit you and knock you clean off your feet. You’re not surprised at your younger brother’s behaviour. You stand up, brush the dirt off your knees and check for blood. Thankfully you don’t find any. You’re good.  “You okay, Kid?” the older man asks, and you nod your head, because as strong as you think you are, the look in the kind lady’s eyes want to make you cry. “(Y/nN),” your dad yells for you, and you know that tone. It’s his ‘no-nonsense tone’ and you start walking to the car forgetting all about the kind lady and the brownie and ice cream… Until you see the same blue-eyed boy walking toward the car, small container in his hand. He waits until you’re settled in your seat before handing you the container containing the brownie and vanilla ice cream.  “Ice Cream’s always better, my mom said you should try it,” he tells you before winking and walking off.  You wait for as long as possible trying to remember the face of the kind boy who gave you the brownie. You last all of ten minutes before eating it, not sharing with either of your brothers. They’re being punished for pushing you and so all sweet treats are off-limits for them. And by the time your dad finally pulls up at the house you’ve forgotten his face… 

You and your best friend, Sammy are standing in the bakery aisle of the store. She’d wanted red velvet rainbow cake, but you were not in the mood for that.  You’d just graduated from junior to senior high, surely that warranted something more than rainbow cake. Sammy, however, looks unconvinced.  “Come on (Y/NN),” she whines, but you stand firm. You’re really not a fan of red velvet cake. You do another lap of the aisle, about to give up when something on the topmost shelf catches your attention.  It’s a small, flat white box that beckons you, you have no idea why. You raise your hand to get it off the shelf, only to find, it’s just out of reach. You’re going to have to stand on the bottom shelf to get it. You look around to see if there’s anyone to assist you, but none of the aisle assistants are in sight. You sigh and Sammy laughs at you. “Well, that’s the price you have to pay for not wanting Red Velvet,” she tells you.  You pull your tongue out at her and she laughs as you prepare yourself to stand on the bottom shelf. You look around one last time to make sure no one’s actually watching and raise your hand in the direction of the box. You’re about to step up when you feel a body behind you, and you see an arm raised toward the box you want. You see as they grab a hold of the box you want and slowly lowers thier arm. You want to scream at them, but you hold your tongue. You’re trying not to cuss anymore – it’s a difficult task… You make a one-eighty degree turn and come face to face, or rather face to chest with a taller person and almost lose your balance in the process. You feel a hand catch your elbow and to help steady yourself.  “Thank you,” you say to the stranger, without actually looking at him and begin to walk away.  It’s only when you see the look on Sammy’s face that you take a second look at the person who stole your box.  He’s holding the box out in your direction, but that’s not what garners your attention. No, it’s the dress blues that do so… He’s military…  Marine Core, looking at uniform. Black dress shoes and socks, midnight blue pants with a red stripe running down the length. A khaki long sleeve button up shirt and a myriad of ribbons that you aren’t familiar with.  You take him in, your gaze running from his feet all the way to his face and you feel a zing run up your spine. There’s something about him that’s familiar but you can’t place it. You feel like you know him, but how can that be possible? You’ve never seen him before in your life! Your brain tells you.  “Chocolate Brownies… Good choice,” he tells you as you reach for it.  You look up at him and your breath gets caught in your lungs. His eyes…  They feel familiar… Blue eyes that don’t miss a thing.  “Always better with ice cream,” he says and offers you a crooked smile and a wink as you take the box from him.  The words jolt something in your brain. There’s a niggle in your brain you can’t quite put your finger on. You want to ask him how he knows, but his attention is pulled away from you when the sound of a lady’s voice calls.  “Come on Gibbs, lots to do…” she says as she walks toward him. She’s pretty with long red hair and blue eyes, though not as captivating as Gibbs’ eyes. You watch as they walk away, only brought out of your thoughts when Sammy pulls you toward the checkout line.  This time you manage to keep an image of his face in your mind for at least three hours…

It’s a Friday evening and the dinner rush is just starting. The restaurant is filling up with parents and kids, all celebrating the end of the week. You’re just thankful its not a Chuck-e-Cheese.  “Come on (Y/N),” Dave, the restaurant manager calls you.  Dave likes you to be front of house on the busier evenings even though you don’t much like it. He claims it’s because you’re good with the kids and the parents, managing to always diffuse situations before it gets worse. You admit, he’s not wrong and for some odd reason, kids love you.  Almost forty-five minutes into your shift you see lady coming in, toddler on one hip and baby bag hanging from the opposite shoulder. The kid is cute, one of the cutest you’ve ever seen, about two years old. She’s chubby cheeked, dark haired and bright blue eyes, just like her mom’s.  You watch as Dave greets them at the door and after chatting for a few minutes, leads them to a table in your serving area. You adjust your clothes before grabbing one of the baby chairs to take to the table. You reach the table the same time as the man does; the woman’s husband and no doubt the baby’s dad, judging by the delighted squeal she lets out when he comes into her line of sight. “Hi Kel,” you hear him say and she offers a toothy smile in return. You look up at the dad and your heart stops for a millisecond.  Your brain starts whirring… trying to remember his name…  Gus…  Gareth…  Gibbs… yes Gibbs, He’s older, better looking now than he was almost nine years ago. He’s dressed in civilian clothing, black slacks and blue button up shirt that brings out his eyes. His hair is slightly longer than the marines would allow. That same lazy smile… directed at you, as though he knows something you don’t. You don’t dare ask him anything… You hand out the menus and inform them you’ll be back to take their order… You don’t get to serve them that evening, as the restaurant experiences a busier than normal evening and everyone is allocated extra tables to serve… By the time you’re done with your section you see one of your fellow servers placing a dessert plate on ‘Gibbs’ table. It looks like tiramisu.  Without consciously thinking about it, you place an order for a slice of chocolate brownie, with ice cream and have it sent over to their table.  “It’s on the house,” you hear their server tell them and you see Gibbs looking around, no doubt for you. Thankfully you’re in the kitchen, but from where you’re standing, you can see him. You smile at the look of joy he gets when he takes the first bite of the brownie and ice-cream... When the rush finally dies down you see the small, happy family heading out the restaurant, the little girl’s head resting on her dad’s shoulder, no doubt fast asleep.

You’re almost done with your last round of practice when you hear your one of your co-worker’s voice behind you. “Sometimes I wonder why she comes to the firing range when she barely leaves the confines of her office.”  She and whoever it is she’s talking to come to a stop behind you. You tune them out, pressing the button for your paper target to come to you so you can see just where your shots landed.  There’s a clear hole, dead centre of the target’s forehead. You smile to yourself; you still have it…  “Agent (Y/L/N),” your co-worker calls and you turn around to see two other people with her.  “These are NCIS agents who would like to talk to you,” she tells you before walking away, leaving the two NCIS Agents to introduce themselves to you. “Agents Bishop and Torres,” the lady says as she points out who they are.  “NCIS Director Leon Vance asked us if we could bring you in to have a meeting with him,” she tells you and you have to hold in a smile.  Leon Vance has been trying to get a meeting with you for the last eight months, trying to lure you away from the FBI’s BAU. Why though? You have no clue. And you’re not extremely interested in changing jobs at this moment.  “And just what is it that Leon Vance wants to have a meeting with me about?” you ask. Surely, there are more experienced agents than you that he can take, so why the keen interest in you?   Neither of them have an answer for you. “Look, no offense, but I like my job at the BAU and I’m not looking to change. If and when I do decide to leave, Leon Vance will be the first person I call,” you tell them.  Torres looks like he’s done with this but Bishop… she has a contemplative look on her face. She’s not leaving without you. She asks you to give them five minutes to discuss something and you nod your head. You don’t have anything pressing to do.  While she’s walking back to you her phone rings and you note she’s not excited to answer. She does so anyway… “Hey Gibbs,” she says and your ears prick up. It can’t be, your mind tells you. The last time you’d seen him was almost ten years ago in a dead beat town in the middle of nowhere. “We’re running an errand for Director Vance,” you hear her say and then remains silent for a while before staring at her cellphone and stabbing the button.  “Gibbs wants us back at the office,” she tells Torres who is now looking at your paper target. “This yours?” He asks you and you nod. He looks surprised.  “Just one shot?” He asks and this time you shake your head. “Full mag,” you reply and from his facial expression he cannot believe it. “10 bucks says it’s a lucky shot,” he tells you, “bet you can’t do it again.” You want to tell him to stop being an arrogant prick but you keep your mouth shut, instead turning to Bishop to tell her you actually will take that meeting with Vance.  You arrive at NCIS HQ fifteen minutes later and Bishop escorts you to the forth floor and Director Vance’s office.  She’s about to knock on the door when it’s violently pulled open and you come face to face with blue eyed Gibbs. He looks exactly the same, only now the dark hair is replaced by strands of white and you admit, it definitely suits him.  He looks at you, examining you, eyes narrowing until Bishop clears her throat, breaking his concentration. “Leon,” you greet the NCIS director and three sets of eyebrows raise at your greeting. “What is it that’s so urgent?” you ask the man. “Don’t you have work to do?” you hear him ask Bishop and Torres, and watch as the two leave. Gibbs, however, stands rooted to the spot.  “NCIS is looking for a profiler, and I’ve heard good things about you. I want to offer you a job with us,” Director Vance tells you. “There are better profilers out there, why me? I’m more than certain you could’ve found someone in the last eight months,” you ask.  “Because not everyone comes highly recommended from Dr Rachel Cranston,” he confesses and you see Gibbs gaze snap to yours. Now he’s more interested than he was ten minutes ago.  “Look I know we don’t have a team yet, but if you come on board we can look into it. I don’t know if we can match the pay grade, but I can guarantee it won’t be boring here at NCIS,” he tells you.  “I’ll think about it,” you tell Director Vance and turn to leave.  You’re not surprised when you see Bishop and Torres leaning against the railing outside Vance’s office A tall green-eyed agent has joined them and you guess that’s the third team member, senior to both Bishop and Torres. He smiles at you as you pass and you return the smile.  You’re almost at the elevator when you hear Gibbs’ voice.  “Agent (Y/L/N), can I have a word with you, please?” he asks and you hold the door for him.  He waits for the doors to close before he starts talking.  “Have you ever been to a place called Stillwater?”  You think about it but nothing comes to mind. “I don’t think so.” “Do you have older brothers?”  “Yeah two of them.” Did either of them call you (Y/nN)?”  You haven’t heard anyone call you by that name in years. Not your brothers or your mother. No, that name was reserved for your dad and he’d passed shortly after you’d finished senior primary.  “Not my brothers, my dad used that name. How do you…? you ask “You don’t remember me,” he starts but you stop him.  “I do, from the restaurant…” it takes him a minute though when he does remember he shakes his head.  “Further back,” he tells you but you can’t remember.  “A small town in Pennsylvania called Stillwater.”  It doesn’t ring any bells for you.  “There was a lady there, asking if you’d liked cream or ice-cream with your brownies…” he said and the memory comes back in bits and pieces. You do remember a striking pair of blue eyes and a lazy smile, kind of like the ones aimed at you right now. It takes a second for the penny to drop.  “Oh My God! That was you…” you exclaim. The boy who told me not to share my brownie with my brothers…” he nods his head.  “You still into brownies… (Y/nN)?” he asks you and you feel your heart flutter at the nickname.  “Yeah, yeah I am,” you admit. “I know a place,” he says and without thinking about it, you follow his footsteps. It’s a six-minute walk from the NCIS building and if you didn’t know this ice cream shop was there, you’d completely miss it. It doesn’t look like much, but you trust Gibbs and follow when he walks to a booth in the back.  “The usual Gibbs?” a waitress asks and he nods his head.  “Cream or ice-cream?” she enquires and you both speak at the same time.  “Ice cream!” making the lady laugh.  The brownie arrives three minutes later, the outside soft and spongy and the inside warm and gooey.  You push the plate toward Gibbs but he shakes his head. “You first,” he tells you and you take a bite. This is the best chocolate brownie you’ve tasted in a while. You take another spoonful, before pushing the plate toward him, though he doesn’t move.  You turn to face him, only to find his face inches from yours.  He brushes his lips against yours, so lightly that you’re not even sure it’s happened.  “Took me long enough to find someone who loves chocolate brownies as much as I do, and now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to start the search for someone new. Consider Leon’s offer (Y/N),” Gibbs asks you.  “Gibbs…,” you want to protest but he doesn’t let you.  “Please?” he asks and at this moment, you’d give him anything he asks for. 

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[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 22: “We could have a chance.”

Rating: T | Word Count: 3069 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Office Notes: In this bit, I swap POVs pretty regularly. Triangle ▼ indicates Jaime's POV, circle ◯ indicates Brienne's. 

Office AU Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

(read on AO3)

//////

▼

Alright, Jaime, play it cool, Jaime tells himself. He folds his arms and leans back against his car in what he hopes is a natural pose. You have a plan. After dinner, when you’re both alone, ask if this is a date, tuck hair behind ear, let finger linger on cheek, etc. He looks down at himself. Is this pose terrible? It’s terrible. Maybe I shouldn’t fold my arms? He shifts and rests one hand against the side mirror instead. What do I do with the other hand now? He places it on his hip. This is stupid. Oh fuck, I see her.

◯

Stay calm, Brienne, Brienne tells herself as she pauses just inside the main entrance of her apartment building. It’s just dinner. You never said ‘date’, did you? You can still pretend it’s just dinner. She can see Jaime through the glass, standing at his car in what looks like a very uncomfortable position. He needs to stop rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Wait, no, he should never stop doing that. By the time she steps out of the building, the heat of her blush has already spread throughout her entire body.

▼

She’s here, she’s here. The words are an alarm in Jaime’s head as Brienne walks towards him, and he pulls his hand back from the side mirror with a jerk. She’s wearing the blue blouse he likes, the one she was wearing at the office when he first noticed her eyes, but this evening she’s worn it loose and paired with dark jeans. She’s blushing already; that’s a good sign, right? Okay, Jaime, be smooth.

“Hey,” Jaime says in greeting. Fuck, that wasn’t smooth, that must have been two octaves lower than my regular voice. He clears his throat. “Hey, Brienne.”

◯ 

“Hey,” Brienne replies, trying to get a hold on the tremor in her voice. She absently smooths down her blouse, the one she knows he likes because it brings out her eyes. “Sorry for the late notice.” Why the hells am I speaking like I’m writing an email?

“No—” Jaime scrambles, “Don’t apologise for—I’m happy to—I would have—” and then he just exhales without finishing any one of those sentences.

“Well,” Brienne says, softly and courageously, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Jaime smiles.  

▼

Don’t apologise for asking, was what he meant to say. I’m happy to have dinner with you anytime. I would have dropped everything even if you had given me five minutes notice. Okay, maybe not that last one, that’s probably too much.

He opens the car door on the passenger side and gestures to the seat. “Shall we?”

“Oh! Um, I was thinking we could walk.” Brienne rocks slightly on the balls of her feet. “I know a place about ten minutes from here. Maybe not as fancy as you’re used to—” Oh fuck, does she think I’m too fancy? “I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but it’s good. It’s seafood, if that’s alright with you? I called ahead and booked a table, but we can always cancel it.”

◯ 

Oh fuck, now he thinks I think he’s too fancy. Brienne just wanted to pick somewhere familiar, and safe, and reliable. The food is delicious enough that he’ll remember the experience, but the ambience is also casual enough that it could just be a meal between friends, if that’s where this ends up going.

“Sure. Seafood sounds great.” He closes the door and locks the car. “We can walk. Is it okay if I park here?”

“It should be fine, I think.” Brienne points uselessly in the direction in which she’s already started walking. “It’s this way.”

“Seems like a nice neighbourhood,” Jaime comments, as he catches up.

“Oh, it’s decent. Quiet. A bit of a distance from the office, but the rent is reasonable enough that I can still get a small apartment to myself.”

“That’s nice,” he nods. “Having your own space.”

▼

I hate small talk. I am above small talk.

“How was your day with Margaery?” Jaime asks.

Is this small talk? I’m showing interest in her life; that’s good, right?

“It was good. She’s…” Brienne bites her lip. “We had a good talk.”

Do I want to know what they talked about? Did they talk about me? Is that why she texted me? Jaime opens his mouth and almost asks a question to that effect, but decides against it. I don’t want to know, anyway. Do I?

He opens his mouth again as they stop to wait at a crossing, but before he can think of the right phrasing, Brienne turns to him. “How was your meeting with the client yesterday?”

“What meet—Oh! Um. It was good too. Illuminating.” Gods, has a meeting with a client ever been ‘illuminating’? She’s going to see right through this.

But Brienne simply says, “That’s good.”

Jaime tries his best not to think about elopements. Damn it, Tyrion.  

◯

They cross the road and walk for the next block or so in an uncomfortable silence. Brienne doesn’t know why Jaime is being so quiet. He’s usually the one to get their conversations going. I should have just let him drive, she thinks, though the restaurant is barely two minutes by car from her apartment building.

▼

I’m being too quiet. I’ve clean forgotten how to make conversation. Quick, Jaime, think of something to say.

And so Jaime blurts out the only thing that’s on his mind right now.

“Is this a date?”

▼◯ 

Oh fuck.

◯ 

Brienne stops in the middle of the pavement. If she could have done so by screeching to a halt, she would have. “Oh! Oh gods—”

“I’m so sorry.” Jaime wipes his hand down his face. “I didn’t mean for it to come out quite so… bluntly.”

“No—um—it’s fine. It, it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be.” No, Brienne, that suggests you already think it’s a date. “Uh, I mean, do you want it to be a—”

“Yes!” Jaime exclaims before she can complete her question. “… Do you?”

“… Yes. I think I do.” She should probably be making eye contact while saying this, but Brienne is finding the cracks in the concrete beneath her feet particularly fascinating right now.

“Okay,” Jaime responds, and he seems on the verge of laughing with relief. At least, that’s what she can tell while still staring at the pavement. “Good. Great.”

▼

They turn and walk a few more steps, as if everything hadn’t just changed between them. Jaime didn’t tuck her hair behind her ear, or let his finger linger on her cheek while she blushed. But he got an answer, and it was the answer he wanted.

He can’t seem to stop grinning.

Then, he feels a tickle on the edge of his palm. He looks down just in time to see Brienne retract her hand back to her thigh.

“Shut up,” she mumbles.

“I didn’t say a word!” Jaime protests, bringing his eyes up to her face. She’s still refusing to make eye contact. He didn’t think he could grin even wider.

“You were going to.”

“If I was going to, I would have said, ‘Go ahead. I want you to.’”

He can see her shift her gaze from her own feet to his hand again. She grabs it, not gently, but urgently, as if she would have lost all her bravery if she had waited a second longer.

“Shut up,” Brienne mumbles again.

Jaime obeys. He intertwines his fingers with hers.

◯ 

Jaime’s hand is warm. Brienne knows it is warm because it is connected to her own hand. She curls her fingers upwards, matches her fingertips to each of his knuckles. Her thumb strokes the flesh in the curve between his thumb and index finger. His hand feels muscular, how could a hand feel muscular? But of course a hand that is linked to Jaime’s forearm must be—

And then she realises they’ve missed a turn entirely.

“Sorry, we’ll have to turn back. I forgot to take a right back there.” She leads him back in the direction they came from. Because she can do that now. Because she is holding his hand.

“Good,” Jaime replies.

“Good?” Why would that be good?

He lifts their hands slightly. “More time for this.”

Oh.  

▼

The restaurant is small, but cosy. An eclectic assortment of historical illustrations of the Stormlands hang on its walls, alongside other decorative items featuring various marine animals. There’s a remarkably big model of a crab hanging over an empty table in the corner, and Jaime isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when they’re directed to a different table.

He trusts Brienne to order her usual—she seems to be pretty friendly with the owners, who look at him approvingly. He finds this to be quite the confidence booster, and sits up a bit straighter in his chair. He can feel his knee touching hers under the table.

“Hey,” Brienne says, after she’s ordered. “How are you with spicy food?”

I’m pathetic. “I can manage.” I’m an idiot.

“They have this amazing homemade hot sauce here. It’s not on the menu, but I always ask for it to go with my shrimp. We can get it on the side as a dip.”

“I’m game.” I’m also an idiot, but I already knew that part.

Three shrimps-dipped-in-hot-sauce in, Jaime is already sweating.

“I thought you said you could manage!” Brienne laughs, as she hands him a paper napkin.

“I lied,” he confesses, dabbing at his nose.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Fuck this hot sauce to all seven hells and back. “To impress you, I guess.”

Brienne blushes as she moves the bowl of sauce towards her side of the table. “You don’t need to do that, Jaime.”

“Isn’t that what people do on first dates?” he says, from behind the napkin.

“I guess so.” Brienne gives him a rare smirk as she dips her entire shrimp into the sauce and pops it in her mouth. She’s superhuman. But I think I already knew that part, too.

“My plan backfired, anyway.” Not that it was an actual plan as opposed to a stumble headfirst into hubris. Or rather, stupidity.

“I don’t know,” Brienne says, in the direction of the hot sauce. “You made an effort. It’s endearing in its own way.”

Jaime would be pleased by that if he wasn’t otherwise occupied with chugging his glass of iced water, and motioning to the server for a refill.

◯ 

The owner of the restaurant offers a sort of conspiratorial smile to Brienne while Jaime takes his credit card out to pay for the meal. She’d be more comfortable going dutch, to be frank, except they’d had enough arguments over the past four weekends about who would pay for entrance fees and sandwiches and ferry tickets and so forth. Jaime almost always won, on the basis that she was doing him a favour in the first place by showing him around.

As the little machine spits out Jaime’s receipt, Brienne remembers Jaime physically blocking her from handing cash over to the bewildered woman at the art museum’s ticketing counter. And how she found that he had slipped money into her pocket at some point during their time on Tarth, though she had deliberately arrived at the ferry terminal early so she could buy their tickets for them both. She wonders if she should feel offended. She bites back a smile instead.

They walk back to her apartment building, hand in hand. They don’t speak much again, but the silence is something pleasant this time. As if a weight has lifted, and yet also settled between them both. She reaches her other hand over and wraps it around his forearm. Gods, it feels even better than it looks. How is that even possible?

They reach his car, linger there, hands still glued together. Ask him, Brienne. Just ask. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Do you—do you want to come up? Margaery brought wine this afternoon but we didn’t get around to it. If you’d like some.”

“Oh! Uh—”

And then Brienne realises how that sounds. Oh gods, I didn’t mean to imply— “I don’t mean—” Fuck, does he think I’m— “I haven’t even—” Nope, he doesn’t need to know that— “I just mean, it’s nearby, and the only thing around here that’s open late is this one pub and that can get really noisy—we could go sit in the park, I suppose, but it’s pretty dark right now and it’s a bit of a detour—”

“No, I, I would love to go up—I mean—to, to talk. Or whatever.”

Or whatever.

▼

And, it’s awkward again.

Brienne is sitting next to him on her couch, both her hands in her lap, and she’s so stiff that he’s reminded of the way she sits at her desk at the office. He lets his eyes wander around her apartment while they sit in silence. Everything is simple and functional, save a framed picture on a bookshelf of someone he assumes is her father. But it feels warm nonetheless. Maybe it feels warm because Brienne is in it. Because it’s an extension of her. He thinks, for one of the few times in his life, that he is in a space that feels like a home.

Their two glasses of wine sit on her coffee table, untouched.

“Brienne—” he starts, but at the same time five words come out of her mouth in a rush:

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

◯ 

Brienne had been thinking about it the whole way from his car to her couch. It seemed to her like that was where this night was headed, and she just couldn’t stop thinking of those five words. They echoed in her brain as she poured them two glasses of wine, and set them down on the coffee table.

But I didn’t have to say it, did I?

“Shit. I didn’t mean to—” She brings her hands up to her face, as if she could contain the burning of her skin with her palms.

Then, she feels Jaime’s hand wrap around her wrist, guide her hands down.

“Okay,” he whispers, though there’s no one around to overhear his words. It’s just the two of them, on her couch. This—this is the entire known universe. “Thank you for telling me.”

And then he shifts toward her. Their thighs are two parallel lines, defying all mathematical logic by meeting at every single point. One of Jaime’s hands winds around her waist, towards her lower back. The other is moving up to caress her cheek. Brienne can’t tear her eyes away from his lips, which are moving in closer and closer and—

▼

“Ow! Fuck!”

Jaime’s brain is reverberating in his skull. Okay, so maybe this doesn’t hurt as bad as that one time him and Addam decided to headbutt each other for fun (it wasn’t fun, and they were more than old enough to know that it wouldn’t have been). But when you’re expecting lips to meet instead of foreheads—

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry Jaime.”

“It’s fine,” he says, as he rubs his brow with his fingers. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m sorry. Do you need ice, or something?” He feels her tender touch on his forehead, something selfless, though it must have been equally painful for her.

“No, I’m fine, really.” Jaime opens his eyes and looks through the mess of all of their fingers. Her blue eyes are glistening in the warm glow of the lamp standing next to her couch. “Oh hells, Brienne, don’t cry.”

“I’m not!” she insists. And then a tear runs down her cheek. “Well, I wasn’t going to until you said that!”

He wipes away one tear, and another. “If you don’t want to—if you’re not ready—we don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she says. It sounds to Jaime like fear and desire in the same breath. “It’s just—I’m nervous because I really want to, and I’ve never done it, and I don’t want you to think—”

◯

Words don’t exist.

Jaime is kissing her and words don’t exist.

What are words? There is only the feeling of his lips on hers, his hand around her neck, his hand that she already knows is warm because her own hand has held it, his other hand on her cheek. There is only her own fingers in his hair, tracing the ridges of his scalp, down to the back of his neck, daring to slip beneath his collar, and Brienne finds perhaps that she has no need for oxygen ever again.

When Jaime breaks from her, all the words come rushing back into her brain, and with that, all her thoughts, her fears. “How was that?” she can’t help but ask.

Jaime just smiles at her, and doesn’t answer. Perhaps words stopped existing for him too. After a while, he asks, “How was that for you?”

“I… I liked it.” It sounds trivial, when she puts it like that. But she can’t think of anything else to say. She just knows she doesn’t want to kiss anyone else but Jaime. Ever. But maybe that’s something she should keep to herself, for now.

“I liked it too,” Jaime echoes, still smiling at her. “Do you want to—we could keep—”

“Please,” she hears herself say. Please.

As Jaime leans towards her again—leans over her, more like; she must have reclined onto her cushions at some point in that period of wordlessness—Brienne suddenly feels compelled to voice a confession. To put something into words.

“Jaime,” she whispers up to him. “I—I never thought I would have a chance at—at any of this.” A chance at dates, and kisses—and whatever comes after, eventually. A chance at love, she dares to think, even if she won’t say that word quite yet, and won’t for a while longer.

“I could say the same to you,” he breathes.

“Really?” How could that be possible?

“Really,” Jaime says, with a quiet conviction, a singular truth. He tucks her hair behind her ear, and lets his fingers linger on her cheek. “But we could have a chance, don’t you think?”

This time, Brienne doesn’t reply. She doesn’t put it into words.

Words—words don’t exist. Not for the rest of this night.

#fictober19 #jaime x brienne #braime #my fic #hope you like it! i think it's romantic and funny? lol #i never knew home until i found your hands

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[weeswageningen]

Dear all,

We would like to invite you to attend March’s Wageningen Evolution & Ecology Seminar (WEES) and workshop. The seminar will take place online Wednesday, March 16th, 16:00-17:00. Dr. Siobhán O’Brien from Trinity College Dublin will present her work on “Conflict and cooperation in human microbiomes”. Here is the Zoom link.

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/83427593069?pwd=SlFFWklzb2ZWUnh0YXNIRW5VYWs4dz09

Meeting ID: 834 2759 3069

Passcode: 958340

The workshop will be held online at 14:00 and is aimed for BSc, MSc, and PhD students. BSc and MSc students can get 1 ECTS for attending 2 workshops. Registration is required, so please email Alanna Leale ([email protected]) to register. See below for more information.

Please forward this information to anyone who could be interested. Thank you!

Conflict and cooperation in human microbiomes (16:00)

Dr. Siobhán O’Brien

Assistant Professor, Department of Microbiology, Trinity College Dublin

Understanding how and when pathogens evolve is urgent if we want to successfully treat diseases. However, pathogens do not exist in isolation – they are embedded within complex microbial communities (such as the gut microbiome). My talk will focus on my past and ongoing research investigating how interactions between pathogens and the community within which they reside can be key drivers of the rate and trajectory of pathogen evolution. Using experimental evolution in semi-natural gut microbiome and cystic fibrosis lung microbiome systems, we have shown that  social interactions can be important drivers of virulence, antibiotic resistance, and mutation rates in a focal pathogen. Hence, in order to understand and treat infections there is a need to consider them in the context of the microbial community within which they reside.  

Workshop (14:00 via Zoom)

This workshop will expand on the topic of microbial cooperation. We will explore exactly what we mean by the term cooperation, and learn how cooperation is a continuum rather than a fixed attribute. Finally, in microbial communities, there is much potential for cooperation – but how can we measure it? And does it even matter?

The workshop will take place 14:00 -15:30 online. Registration is required (space limited to 15), so please email Alanna Leale ([email protected]) to register. She will then email you the Zoom link to participate. The workshop gives attendees the opportunity to meet the speaker of the seminar and have a discussion based on recent publications. The workshops are a good possibility to become acquainted with hot topics in science and to gain experience in discussing these topics with leading scientists in the field. Furthermore, BSc and MSc students can get 1 ECTS for attending 2 workshops.

WEES background & call for new members:

WEES is an initiative of PhD students and postdocs at Wageningen University to organize a continuing series of stimulating seminars on contemporary topics in evolution and ecology. For this series we invite researchers from all over the world who have leading roles in their field. We aim to bring together different groups at Wageningen University using a variety of systems, but with a common interest in evolutionary and ecological questions. WEES is funded by graduate schools PE&RC, WIMEK, EPS, VLAG, and WIAS.

Interested in joining the WEES committee and organizing seminars yourself? WEES is looking for new members! We aim for a broad and diverse range in topics and would like to welcome new members to help and include topics not represented yet. If you are curious, send an email to [email protected] and join one of our meetings.

For more information please visit:

www.weeswageningen.nl

, and follow us on Twitter @weeswageningen

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[annieboltonworld]

Juniper Publishers-Open Access Journal of Environmental Sciences & Natural Resources

Production Potential of Improved pearlmillet (Pennisetum glaucum L.) Cultivars under Staggered Sowing in Raifed Areas of Western India

Authored by HM Bhuva

Abstract

Performance of 8 pearlmillet (Pennisetum glaucum L.) cultivars, viz. ( 6 hybrids, (‘MH 2114’, ‘MH 2106’, ‘MH 2107’, ’MH 2155’, ‘MPMH 17’ and ‘KBH 108’) and 2 varieties, viz.( ‘MP 570’ and ‘Pusa 383’) was evaluated under 3 sowing dates (10-15 July, 25-30 July and 10-15 August) at the Pearlmillet Research Station, Jamnagar, Gujarat, India during kharif season of 2017, to find out the production potential of pearlmillet cultivars under staggered sowing in raifed area of Western India. The growth and yield attributes in 10-15 July sown crop recorded higher values than late sowings. The crop sown on 10-15 July gave significantly higher grain yield ( 3069 kg/ha) and stover (6696 kg/ha) yields, net returns (36591 Rs/ha), benefit: cost ratio (2.80) and economic efficiency (412 Rs/ha/day) than that sown on 25-30 July and 10-15 August sowing. Pearlmillet hybrids gave 21.9% higher grain yield than varieties. Among the hybrids, ‘MH 2155’ recorded significantly higher grain yield (3291 kg/ha), profits (41042 Rs/ha) with the maximum benefit : cost ratio (3.14) and economic efficiency followed by ‘KBH 108’; and among the varieties ‘MP 570’ was found promising.

Keywords: Cultivar; Economic Efficiency; Economics; Grain Yield; Hybrid; Pearlmillet

Introduction

Pearlmillet (Pennisetum glaucum L.) is the major staple food of millions of rural poor in arid and semi-arid regions of the world. It is one of the important cereal crops globally after rice, wheat and maize. In India, pearlmillet occupies an area of 7.32 million hectares producing 9.18 million tones with productivity of 1255 kg/ha. In Gujarat, it is cultivated over an area of 0.46 million hectares with a production and productivity of 0.77 million tones and 1677 kg/ha respectively (DES, 2016). Being a C4 crop, it utilizes high temperature and solar radiation more efficiently. Under changing climate scenario, pearlmillet being a drought-hardy crop will play an important role in food, feed and fodder security of the Indian population. Sowing time is one of the major inputs affecting growth and crop yield. It affects duration of vegetative, reproductive and maturity period of crop. Optimum planting time for pearlmillet may vary from one variety to another and from a region to another because of variation of agro-ecological conditions. Sowing date ensure complete harmony between vegetative and reproductive phase, on one hand, and climatic rhythm, on the other, and helps in realizing potential yield. Pearlmillet development begins at a base temperature around 12ºC, an optimum temperature between 30-35 ºC and a lethal temperature around 45 ºC. The effect of temperature on the length of plant growth cycle, especially the grain filling phase is the most important factor in explaining the reduced yields at warmer temperatures [1]. Plants have a definite temperature requirement before they attain certain phenological stages. Hence, it becomes imperative to have knowledge of exact duration of phenological stages in a particular crop-growing environment and their impact on yield of crop. Growing of suitable variety at an appropriate time is essential for ensuring optimum productivity. Therefore, an experiment was planned to determine the production potential of different pearlmillet varieties under staggered sowing in raifed areas of Western India.

Materials and Methods

A field experiment was conducted at Pearlmillet Research Station, Junagadh Agricultural University, Jamnagar (22º47’ N, 70º07’ E, 18.00 m above the mean sea level), Gujarat, India, during the kharif season of 2017, to find out the production potential of pearlmillet varieties with staggered sowing in Western India. The site is situated in the North Saurashtra agro-climatic region of Gujarat under Gujarat plains and hills zone of India. The rainy season commences in the second fortnight of June and ends in September, with an average annual rainfall of 500 mm. July and August are the peak months of rainfall. During the crop season the minimum temperature ranged from 23.1 to 28.0ºC and the maximum temperature ranged from 28.7 to 37.0ºC. The weather parameters, viz. mean relative humidity, wind velocity and sunshine hours were normal during the experiment period. In general, the weather conditions were congenial during crop season. The experimental soil was clay loam in texture and slightly alkaline in reaction with pH 7.7 and EC 0.36 dS/m. It was moderately fertile being low in organic carbon (4.9 g/kg), medium in available nitrogen (231 kg/ha) and phosphorus (11.9 kg/ha) and high in available potassium (326.7 kg/ha). Treatments consisting of 3 sowing dates (10-15 July, 25-30 July and 10-15 August) in main plot and 8 pearlmillet cultivars including 6 hybrids (‘MH 2114’, ‘MH 2106’, ‘MH 2107’, ’MH 2155’, ‘MPMH 17’ and ‘KBH 108’) and 2 varieties ( ‘MP 570’ and ‘Pusa 383’) in subplot were replicated thrice in a split plot design. The sowing was done manually in rows at 60 cm spacing with 4-6 cm depth. The excess plants were thinned out at 20 days after sowing (DAS) keeping within row distance at 10 cm maintaining uniform plant stand. To control initial flushes of weeds, atrazine 0.5 kg/ha was applied as pre-emergence with 600 l/ha water with the help of knap-sack sprayer fitted with flat-fan nozzle. Hand-hoeing was done at 25 DAS and intra-row weeds were removed by hand-weeding. The gross and net plot size was 5.0 x 3.6 m and 4.0 x 2.4 m respectively. Pearlmillet crop was fertilized with 80 kg N and 40 kg P/ha through urea and single super phosphate. At sowing 50% N along with full dose of P were applied and remaining 50% N was applied at 30 DAS. Crop protection measures were taken up against pests and disease infestation. Irrigations were scheduled as and when required. Days to 50% flowering was recorded with 50% plants were found by manual counting of plant row by row at flowering stage. The yield attributes, viz. effective tillers/plant, earhead length and test weight was recorded at the time of harvesting. The crop was harvested manually with the help of sickle when earhead almost matured. The ear head were threshed and winnowed and grain so obtained was weighed and data on grain and stover yields were recorded. Weather data were collected from the Agro-meteorological Observatory of department of agronomy, Pearlmillet research station, Junagadh Agricultural University, Jamnagar. Gross returns were calculated on the basis of prevailing market price of the produce. Net income was calculated as difference between gross returns and total cost of cultivation. Data were analyzed with analysis of variance (ANOVA) as suggested by Gomez and Gomez (1984). Treatments were compared by computing the F-test. The significant differences between treatments were compared pare wise by critical difference at the 5 per cent level of probability.

Results and Discussion

Growth and Yield Attributes

Different growth attributes, viz. plant height, total tillers/ plant and yield attributes, viz. effective tillers/plant, earhead length and 1000-grain weight were significantly influenced by sowing dates and varieties (Table 1). Significantly the highest plant height, total tillers/plant, effective tillers/plant, earhead length and 1000-grain weight were recorded with 10-15 July sown pearlmillet crop than that of later sowing. The higher value of yield attributing parameters in case of early sowing over delayed ones could be attributed to availability of optimum environmental conditions for growth and development of crop which might enhance accumulation of photosynthates from source to sink. Lower values of growth attributes of late sown crop may be attributed to inhibited vegetative growth of crop due to higher temperature in comparison to early sown crop. Andhale et al. [2] reported significant reduction in plant height, earhead length and girth and 1000-grain weight with delay in sowing during summer in pearlmillet. Growth and yield attributes were significantly affected due to different cultivars. Plant height, earhead length and 1000-grain weight were significantly the maximum with ‘MH 2155’, however plant height and earhead length were statistically on par with ‘KBH 108’, while the maximum total and effective tillers/plant was recorded with MPMH17 followed by MH 2106 [3,4].

Phenology

Sowing dates and different varieties had significant differences in days to 50% flowering and maturity (Table 2). The crop sown on 10-15 July took significantly higher number of days to 50% flowering and maturity than that of 25-30 July and 10-15 August dates of sowing. The flowering and maturity days on 10- 15 July sown crop increased by 3.62 and 4.84 days respectively over 10-15 August Sowing. The late sown crop completed its life cycle at an accelerated pace, leading to shortening of days taken to flowering and maturity. The reproductive period was also shortened due to late sowing. In different cultivars, ‘MH 2155’ and ‘KBH 108’ being statistically at par took significantly more number of days to 50% flowering and maturity over other cultivars while, significantly the minimum 50% flowering and maturity days was noted with ‘MPMH 17’. The variation in phenology of sorghum cultivars was also reported by Mishra et al. [5].

Yield

Pearlmillet grain and stover yields were significantly impressed due to different sowing time and varieties. Significantly the highest grain and stover yields were recorded with 10-15 July sowing over 25-30 July and 10-15 August sown crop (Table 2). The increase in pearlmillet grain yield with earlier sowing over 25-30 July and 10-15 August sown crop was 12.71 and 36.04% respectively. Higher grain and stover yields under 10-15 July sowing date can be ascribed to favourable environmental conditions at all pheno-phases, which resulted in better development of yield attributing traits such as effective tillers, earhead length and 1000-grain weight, than later sowing dates (Table 1). Gouri et al. [6] found that delayed sowing hastened the crop phonological development, thereby causing significant reduction in crop yields. Prakash et al. [7] and Gupta et al. [8] also reported the similar observation under delayed sowing.

The hybrid ‘MH 2155’ recorded the highest grain (3291 kg/ ha) and stover (8039 kg/ha) yields which was statistically on par with ‘KBH 108’ but was significantly higher than other cultivars under tested. An increase in pearlmillet grain yield to the tune of 72.12 and 61.14% was recorded with the sowing of hybrid ‘MH 2155’ and ‘KBH 108’ over the lowest yielding cultivar ‘Pusa 383’. It might be due to potential of different varieties. Maurya et al. [9] also observed differences in pearlmillet grain yield while working in kharif season with different varieties. The higher grain yield with MH 2155’ and ‘KBH 108’ was due to better expression of yield attributing characters which led towards an increase in grain yield. The interaction effect between dates of sowing and pearlmillet varieties was found to be non-significant.

Economics

The economic parameters for pearlmillet were calculated and presented in Table 2. The maximum gross returns, net returns and benefit: cost ratio were obtained when the crop was sown on 10-15 July. Consequently, 10-15 July sown crop gave significantly higher economic efficiency over late sowing. This was because of the higher productivity with favourable environmental conditions was associated with the respective treatments. Among the pearlmillet cultivars, hybrids were more economical than the varieties except ‘MPMH 17’ and ‘MH 2107’. Pearlmillet hybrid ‘MH 2155’ recorded significantly higher gross returns, net returns, benefit: cost ratio and economic efficiency followed by ‘KBH 108’. Similar findings were reported by Mishra et al. [5] in grain sorghum cultivars.

Conclusion

Pearl millet sown on 10-15 July recorded the highest grain as well as stover yields. The higher net returns, benefit: cost ratio and economic efficiency was also recorded on 10-15 July sown crop. Pearlmillet hybrid ‘MH 2155’ recorded the highest grain yield which was statistically comparable with ‘KBH 108’. The hybrid ‘MH 2155’ also recorded the maximum net returns, benefit: cost ratio and economic efficiency followed by ‘KBH 108’.

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