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meta-sequoia · 3 months ago

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Rose genetics and the law of unintended consequences (or, ten rose bushes, reviewed)

I have a number of longposts in the backlog, including updates on a number of garden improvement projects I undertook over the winter, but I kept putting off posting them because there kept being Horrors. However, spring is here - in California anyway - and plants wait for no one.

Over the winter of 2025, as a coping mechanism for the aforementioned Horrors, I got really into roses. Because of who I am as a person, deciding what roses I wanted to buy also made me feel obliged to reconstruct the history of rose breeding, just to make sense of the teeming confusion of the tens of thousands of named rose varieties. Humans have been raising roses for food, medicine, and beauty for untold centuries, and so they've really grown up with us. The history of the development of roses, it turns out, is the history of the development of humanity in miniature.

This post has it all: history, some light phylogeny discussion, material analysis of English folk ballads, a conceptual framework for understanding how different kinds of roses vary and why, a #haul breakdown of what bare-root roses I got and what I thought of them, and some philosophical musings on what it means for an organism to be subjected to a long-term selective breeding process, to be remade wholly in the image of human desire. All that, and pictures of roses, under the cut.

My general region of California is considered to have a good climate for roses, much good may it do us. It never gets too hot or too cold, so they essentially never go out of season, and even though our winters are wet, the rest of the year is fairly dry. This is absolutely critical, because the main problem that makes garden roses hard to grow is fungal disease. Modern roses are incredibly susceptible to fungal diseases, which are caused, roughly, by Damp. This has typically been combated with toxic sprays (though there are now less-toxic options) and aggressive pruning regimens.

Needless to say, this is a ridiculous fucking problem for a plant to have. California natives, by comparison, hate irrigation - they have a natural life cycle involving being dry in summer and wet in winter, like California itself, so if you grow them in a climate resembling their natural range, without too much added water, they will be mostly OK. Roses, as far as I can tell, actually hate all water, including rain and humidity, which is much worse because gardeners do not control the weather. If it rains too often after, say, noon, the rose's leaves might get wet, fail to dry off, get a fungal disease, and die. If there is too much fog, or it is humid, as it is in most of the country in the summer, the rose's leaves might get wet &c. If you have a sprinkler system - you get the idea.

Fungal disease can also weaken roses and make them more prone to insect infestations. This is bad because modern garden roses are, without any help from The Weather, already incredibly prone to infestations from aphids, mites, beetles, and a mite-borne disease undescriptively called "rose rosette disease", which produces a habitus that I can only describe as "rose bush eldritch horror".

Now, this may all have you asking one question. Probably, that question is "why are you so obsessed with a plant that wants so badly to die?" I will not be answering this question today. Instead, I will be answering a different question, which is "Why do modern garden roses suck so bad?"

Now, if roses are subject to some manner of curse, then it isn't a family curse, phylogenically speaking. Roses - genus Rosa species extremely miscellaneous - are a member of the family Rosaceae, which contains a massive number of useful and delightful plants. It is possibly the most economically important family of plants next to the brassicas. The rose family brings us not just roses, but apples, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, plums, peaches, apricots, and almonds. And the wild rose, untouched by human efforts, is a lot like a raspberry, actually.

Its flowers have only five petals, in pink or white. It’s got thorny stems that form thickets, and oval (or, technically, lanceolate) leaves with lightly serrated edges. Its flowers are fragrant, which is an adaptation to their long and necessary coexistence with pollinators and other insects - fragrance serves as a chemical signal for insects to "come here" or "go away", depending. The wild rose is hardy, like all wild plants, tolerant of various environmental problems that would kill a garden rose: shade, salt, normal levels of ambient insect and fungal disease pressure, drought, being consistently rained on in the afternoon or evening. It may reproduce asexually from suckers - strong shoots from near the base of the plant - and this makes it able to withstand browsing pressure from e.g. deer. (Put a pin in that.) It also can reproduce in the normal way, by having its flowers pollinated and forming seeds, which are borne in prominent reddish-orange fruits called "hips".

This is not a rose I bought, but here’s Rosa gymnocarpa, a California native rose. It’s a wood rose, so it’s shade-tolerant, and it’s often found in redwood forests specifically, so it tolerates relatively dry soil and very acidic soil.

Honorable mention: Rosa gymnocarpa (wood rose)

Source: Calscape

A raspberry plant in flower, for comparison. Source

The wild rose has another trait, which may be surprising to those who have only ever seen garden roses: it blooms once, usually in the summer. This is typical of flowers, which almost always have a season, for the exact same reason fresh fruit has a season. Flowering plants are on a tight schedule: they need to finish up their blooming, so they can set fruit, so they can get their seeds out before winter, in case the frost kills them off. And mostly we’re used to that: tulips are for spring, so you don't expect a tulip to make a second showing in fall, or to flower continuously throughout the summer. But roses have been bred to do this, and have done it for centuries, for so long we barely remember what it was like when "roses blooming" was a time of year, an event.

It's possible that for most of human history, roses were all the more treasured for being fleeting, which simply isn't an aspect of how we moderns understand roses. I am constantly subjected to traditional ballads at home, both in English and German, so I am very aware that multiple Child ballads mention roses as a way of placing the events of the ballad at a particular time of year. In 'Lady Isobel and the Elf-Knight', a song traditionally associated with May Day, one version of the chorus references the events as occurring 'as the rose is blown'. And at the start of 'Tam Lin', the protagonist meets her fairy lover while plucking a double rose, is "laid down among... the roses red" by him, and finishes the ballad on Halloween night heavily pregnant with his child. The course of the ballad is inextricably intertwined with the course of the seasons, and the bloom of roses is synonymous with early summer. (There's so much symbolism in 'Tam Lin', but especially around roses. Can I interest you in tam-lin.org at this time?)

European religious literature even uses "a rose e'er blooming" as a purely figurative phrase, something impossible and magical enough to be a metonym for the Virgin Mary - but in the modern era, most garden roses are ever-blooming. The perpetual-blooming rose is not the natural state of the rose plant, but a kind of technology that had to be developed. And I don't know, I just think that's neat.

So what have we learned? The wild rose is: once-blooming, tough, possibly shade-tolerant depending on species, very thorny, bearing simple pink or white five-petaled flowers, that are fragrant, pollinator-friendly, and produce fruit readily enough. In short, a practical, normal sort of plant.

The garden rose is…not that. There’s no other way to put this: the modern garden rose is the wild rose, but bimboified.

Now, in case today is your first day on the Internet - well, first of all, welcome, it’s bad here - but secondly, bimboification is a niche fetish where someone is transformed into a hypersexualized version of themselves that is also very stupid. Plant domestication is obviously analogous. I didn’t originate this joke; in fact, I reblogged a joke like this just last week.

Roses are like this but even more so. Like, wheat is clearly bimboified. Its sexual parts (seeds) have been remade, swollen to ludicrous proportions, and wheat is probably worse at being a plant than wild grasses. But we created modern wheat from wild grass because it was more useful that way, and wheat could in theory survive and spread without human cultivation. Roses are Like That purely because we wanted to make them a more perfect decorative object. Centuries of intensive selection pressure for appearance have rendered roses useless as an independent plant: they are so disease-prone they need extensive intervention to even survive, and they are often physically incapable of propagating themselves - one of the basic features of plants! - without human aid. That’s plant bimboification.

Source: Heirloom Roses. This one is called 'Oranges 'n' Lemons. Hardly seems like the same plant!

Here are just a few examples, of what we've done to roses. Humans love rose petals - eating them, distilling them into perfume, smelling them, just looking at them - so the garden rose has massive flowers that are so stuffed with petals that pollinators cannot get at their centers, rendering the rose incapable of reproducing except possibly with the help of a human equipped with a paintbrush. Humans love bright colors, so modern roses come in every color their natural pigments allow. Garden roses are often - though not always - less thorny than their wild cousins, because thorns are inconvenient to humans, and so have been somewhat bred out.

And what’s just as important is what was bred out of wild roses in the process of becoming modern roses - by accident. As mentioned above, modern roses are often useless to pollinators, and, not unrelatedly, can’t reproduce without human help. They often lose their fragrance, if not specifically bred for it. They are very susceptible to disease, because gardeners can keep alive, through sheer stubbornness, plants that natural selection would have culled. Likewise, they need full sun where many wild roses can get by even in the shade of big evergreens, and they can't tolerate nearly as much cold, heat, or salt exposure as their wild relatives.

This 'use it or lose it' thing, by the way, is a general principle of selective processes like plant breeding, or like evolution. If you have two independent traits, A and B, and you select hard for A, then B is likely to gradually drop out of the population, simply because the subset of A carriers that also have B is likely to be small. It's pure statistics. (It essentially is a human-created population bottleneck.) The more intense and ruthless the selection pressure, the stronger the effect. Evolution cares a lot about seed production and hardly at all about color, so wild roses are plain but make enormous rose hips; humans like beautiful roses the color of sunsets, and are indifferent to seed production, so modern roses don’t make hips at all. The failure to select for eventually becomes an implicit selection pressure against.

(Highly-bred organisms are thus less, I guess, well-rounded genetically even before you get to issues of inbreeding, and if you assume there is no biological link between your selected-for traits and other ridealong traits, e.g. domestication syndrome. Genetics is complicated!)

One adapted wild-type trait that - I speculate - was not bred out, due to its direct usefulness to humans, was the ability of roses to grow back vigorously from having leaves or branches removed. This is, it seems to me, an adaptation to herbivore browsing - if you are a rose with minimal regrowth ability, and a deer chews on half your canes, it’s curtains for you. But humans also fully remove half of the canes of their garden roses every winter - it’s critical to controlling the fungal disease that so plagues them. Specifically, pruning improves airflow through the plant, which evaporates the water that keeps falling on the leaves from the sky. (You know. The rain, that roses both hate and need to live.) In some sense, we are acting as caretakers here, shaping the plant in inscrutable ways for its own good. But to the plant, we are basically deer: just another in a long line of animals that want to steal its leaves. Unbelievable! It needs those! Fuck you too, buddy: here’s a faceful of thorns.

Truly, a tale as old as time.

This brings me to my first actual rose review, a kind of bridge between wild roses and the world of cultivated roses.

#1: Rosa rugosa, probably "Hansa"

Source: the author's yard.

This is a sucker - a vigorous young ground-level shoot - from an unnamed rosebush from my mother's house. I say "probably 'Hansa'" because we have no idea what this actually is, only that it is a rugosa hybrid, purchased from an unknown nursery in the Midwest sometime during the Bush administration.

'Hybrid rugosas' are crosses between garden-type roses and a wild rose species called Rosa rugosa, which is native to much of Asia. This particular rose bush has many traits carried over from its wild parent: it's violently fragrant, a glorious sweet-spicy combo that smells to me like childhood and home; it has wrinkly leaves (characteristic of Rosa rugosa in particular); its stems are practically coated in prickles; and it's quite tolerant of shade, drought, and salt (Rosa rugosa is a beach rose).

The main virtue evinced by this rose, derived from its wild parent, is the same reason that it is still here in my garden: it is extremely difficult to kill. My mother, after hearing me say I wanted this specific rose bush at my house the same way it had been at my childhood home, dug up a sucker from her instance, put it in a bag with some wet dirt, carried it by hand on a multi-hour cross-country plane flight, and handed it off to me. Once I received it, I stuck it in a pot, because I was ripping up my lawn and had nowhere to plant it, and mostly forgot about it, because I was busy ripping up my entire lawn. It lost its leaves suspiciously early in the fall. ("That's not good," my mother said, over FaceTime, brow furrowed. "Are the rest of your roses doing that?")

But as the saying doesn't go, "where there's green cambium, there's hope", and I continued to take care of it throughout the winter. I eventually even remembered to put it in the ground. It is now March, and in defiance of the mockery of certain judgemental housemates, who said things like "why do you have a stick in a pot?" and "it's giving 'dead', my guy", this "stick" has now decided to become a rosebush, and has a grand total of (approximately) twenty-five leaves.

Like I said: extremely difficult to kill. It is currently planted 10-ish feet from the base of a redwood tree, a tough environment where some hardy garden-style roses have nonetheless been known to thrive. Given that its resurrection has occurred entirely while it was planted under the redwood, it doesn't seem too mad about its environment.

Review: holy shit, it’s alive???

#2: Zéphirine Drouhin, the "old garden rose"

Source: Heirloom Roses

Rosarians have conceived of many groupings of garden roses, based on known ancestry, phenotype, genetic studies, and Vibes, but one major breakpoint is those bred before 1867, the "old garden roses", and after 1867, the "modern garden roses".

The old garden roses were derived mostly from ancient European and Middle Eastern stock, which had themselves been created from wild roses centuries prior. For example, this is Rosa x alba, an ancient European rose strain; it was used as the heraldic badge of the medieval House of York during the English conflict known as the War of the Roses.

Source: not mine

Some of these roses are perpetual-blooming, a trait introduced as late as the eighteenth century, and which is entirely due to trade contact with China: as far as I can tell, the genes for strong reblooming only come from the Chinese rose-breeding tradition, which was itself centuries old by that point. So the modern Western concept of perpetual-blooming roses as the default kind of rose - like so many other aspects of modernity - is a direct result of Europeans cribbing from everybody else.

Interestingly, France was a major center for rose development during the early modern period. You can see it in the way old garden roses are named: overwhelmingly after some eminent madame or monsieur. This is probably connected to the fact that Josephine, Napoleon Bonaparte’s empress, was a rose fiend: she had two hundred and fifty new varieties of rose to be brought to her gardens at Château de Malmaison, which was probably pretty much all the named varieties of rose that existed then, and many of which were new to European cultivation at that time. Again, this represented a massive inflow of rose genes that were previously restricted to other countries or continents entirely. Inextricably, these gardens also represent the proceeds of early modern global trade, and of empire: Napoleon, on campaign abroad, himself sent her hundreds of specimens of flowering plants, and the French navy confiscated plants and seeds from ships captured and sea and sent them to her.

Anyway, Zéphirine Drouhin, created at the end of the "old garden rose" period and named for some now-forgotten madame or mademoiselle, is highly fragrant - one of the few roses said to really perfume the air - with a vibrant but old-fashioned color palette. (Apricot and yellow roses were also characteristic of the Chinese rose gene pool, and so were significantly less common in old garden roses.) Zéphirine Drouhin is also thornless, a rare trait that we nonetheless see in some old-fashioned garden roses, and a few modern garden roses as well.

Old garden roses have a variable but generally good level of disease resistance. Zéphirine Drouhin in particular, gets something of a bad rap for poor disease resistance; English rose breeder David Austin Roses says, tactfully, that it "prefers warmer climates" (versus, one must assume, rainy England) and that "controlling disease can be a problem". By this you should understand them to mean that it is a whiny little pissbaby that constantly gets blackspot, a diva that will defoliate at the drop of a hat (or the drop of, uh, water).

However, unlike certain other newer roses I will mention later, I have found Zéphirine Drouhin to be pretty healthy so far. I received this rose, like many in this post, "bare root", basically a stick, dormant in a bag of wood shavings. Upon being planted in a part-sun area, it has leafed out with only a scattering of aphids to show in terms of disease.

Review: So far, so good. Looking forward to the fragrance.

#3 and 4: 'Mister Lincoln' and 'Fragrant Cloud', the hybrid tea brothers

Remember how I mentioned that 1868 is the breakpoint between "old garden roses" and "modern garden roses"? That year marked the invention of a new type of rose, the 'hybrid tea', that is in some sense THE rose, the ARCHETYPE of a rose. If you ask someone who knows nothing about roses to draw 'a rose' - if you look up clipart of a rose - a hybrid tea rose is what you'll get.

Source: Star Nursery

This is Mister Lincoln, and although it was developed as late as the 1960s, it has the classic hybrid tea rose form. Hybrid teas have a very distinctive shape, described as "high-pointed", with a spiral of unfurling petals that curl at the edges, and they're borne singly on long stems, making them great for cutting and putting into vases and bouquets. They are not always strongly fragrant, and they are not generally very disease-resistant. They come in a very wide variety of colors, intense and subtle. They are reblooming.

Hybrid teas were developed by another East-meets-West cross, when the Chinese tea roses, freshly imported from Guangzhou in the early 19th century, were bred with the old garden roses. Tea roses have the same iconic form as the hybrid teas; they have those unique, pastel shades that were previously quite absent from European rose stocks; they smell like a fresh cup of tea. All these traits they impart to hybrid teas. Hybrid teas have been very popular ever since, and have been subject to a great deal of selective breeding for color and form.

Hybrid teas don't generally spark joy, to me. I find the 'cartoon rose' shape kind of twee, honestly. And the reputation for lack of disease tolerance puts me off. But I heard Mister Lincoln was incredibly fragrant, and that drew me in. Likewise Fragrant Cloud (1967), which also has the charming feature of being a violent neon coral that is allegedly very difficult to photograph.

Source: Heirloom Roses

“It'll be fine," I thought. "How much fungal disease can it get? It's not like it's humid here."

Never again. My trust is destroyed; fuck hybrid teas.

please, my son, he is very sick

This is my poor Mister Lincoln, planted from bare-root in mid-December. It has three different fungal diseases, and also an aphid infestation I can't seem to get it to shake. It looks like one of those diagrams of a liver in a medical textbook that has fatty liver and cirrhosis and liver cancer all at once, just so you can see what all the diseases look like. This is a rose that has every problem! No other rose in this flower bed comes close to having every problem! 'Munstead Wood' is also a modern garden rose (though from a very different lineage - see my review below) and it has no fungal diseases and not a single aphid!

Well, maybe the other hybrid tea I bought is doing better... well, nope, it rained last week and Fragrant Cloud has powdery mildew.

Review: Come on, man.

#5 Unidentified ‘sunset’ rose

I didn’t buy these roses; they came with my house. As a consequence, I have no idea what they are, but I am now intimately familiar with their traits, and I think they are very indicative of both the high and low points of modern garden roses.

On the surface level, the fact that these rose bushes are still with us is an impressive proof of their persistence under adversity. When I bought the house, these roses were being choked to death. Lily-of-the-nile had been planted way too close to them, and then permitted to grow unchecked and undivided for many years; their roots were completely infiltrated and surrounded with lily roots. The lily roots had also damaged the irrigation lines, which were dribbling uncontrolled amounts of water into the shared root zone. So when I excavated these roses, the whole area smelled strongly of rot, with visible mold throughout; the roots were fully wet even in the heat of August. The roses were also infested with blackspot, not surprisingly. I wasn’t sure if what I was doing was too little, too late.

But when they finally got some drainage, some direct sunlight, and some relief from the brutal root competition, they did start growing back, and even blooming. Come winter, I pruned hard, defoliated, and applied neem oil consistently. And they’ve made a comeback!

Source: these blooms are actually my roses.

They bloom, and they’re beautiful. They do this ombre thing, where the buds are bright yellow and as they open they go from yellow, to orange, and finally to red.

The growth is fairly vigorous, with no powdery mildew no matter how rainy it gets. But their foliage definitely suffers from blackspot, and occasional rose rust; the spores are probably ambiently present in the soil now, and they can’t quite seem to defend themselves, even with ample help from organic fungicides like neem oil.

They also have no fragrance. They smell like nothing. And that’s the standard modern garden rose in a nutshell, I think: beautiful color and form, shaky disease resistance, little fragrance. It’s a little sad, honestly.

Review: Okay, this one is really pretty, actually.

Interlude: Pesticides and the law of unintended consequences

So, yeah, you can sort of see how roses got a reputation for being picky divas. I can only imagine how bad this sort of thing must get in places that get (gasp!) rain or humidity in the summer.

Now, having created plants that are too disease-ridden to live, rose-lovers came up with practical and effective solutions to the disease problem they created. For the past century or so, the go-to fix for our increasingly disease-prone rose population has been chemicals: regular applications of synthetic insecticide and fungicide sprays, as well as plenty of fertilizer and herbicide to feed the roses and kill any competing weeds.

However, recall the theme of this post: the law of unintended consequences. In agriculture, the development of modern pesticides and fertilizers has been genuinely miraculous; the Green Revolution is estimated to have saved a billion people from starvation in the latter half of the twentieth century. Saving a billion people! Can you even begin to conceive of what it would be like to save a billion people, even grapple with the moral weight of that act? I know I can't; the number is simply too large for our moral intuitions to handle, I think. So I'm hesitant to bad-mouth pesticides and fertilizers too much.

But they do have massive downsides. Chemical fertilizers leach into the groundwater and cause algal blooms that make entire bodies of water go anoxic, rendering them uninhabitable to fish and the rest of the aquatic food chain. Insecticides are probably responsible for colony collapse, which endangers the pollinators that we rely on for our food supply.

And, well, even if you don't give a shit about the natural world - you are a part of the natural world. You are an animal, with all the frailty that implies. Our bodies use many of the same ancient metabolic pathways as insects and plants; the majority of your DNA is shared with a banana. And because you are an animal, it is very difficult indeed to create an insecticide that will poison other animals without poisoning you too, at least a little. Herbicides are somehow still worse, despite the more distant biological relationship between humans and dandelions: Roundup, for instance, is linked to non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, which has led to Monsanto paying out massive legal settlements to cancer patients who used their products.

So if we can't grow roses without coating them in poison, maybe we should just… not do that? Go back to growing super-hardy nearly-wild roses like rugosas, forgoing forever the elegance and sublime color of a modern rose?

Give up this? ‘Glowing Peace’, Heirloom Roses

Not so fast! Maybe this technological problem has a technological solution. If we bred roses so that they sucked, maybe we should just not do that! Make different roses! Make roses that don't suck!

#6-#8, ‘Ebb Tide', 'Eden', and 'Lavender Crush': roses that don't suck

Over the last fifty years, people have become increasingly aware of the impacts of modern lifestyles upon our health and the health of the planet and its ecosystems. So maybe this has made the public less willing to buy roses that need to be treated constantly with toxic sprays. Or maybe it's just that growing disease-prone roses is an enormous pain in the ass. Spray, prune, spray, defoliate, fertilize, spray, fertilize, spray, water - but not too much! Oops, powdery mildew. Defoliate and spray some more.

So the genetic health of the newer varieties of garden roses is greatly improved. The two hybrid teas I struggled with above were bred in the 1960s. All the named rose varieties in this section were bred since the 1990s or later: Eden in 1997, Ebb Tide in 2004, and Lavender Crush, the baby of the group, was introduced in 2016. All of them are vibrantly healthy and quite vigorous; Ebb Tide and Eden are shade-tolerant too, and Lavender Crush is allegedly very winter-hardy. After a scant two months in the ground, they've started to put out flower buds. And they keep some of the glorious color and form of older roses. Look at them!

Source: Heirloom Roses.

I don't mean to say all 20th century roses are bad and disease-ridden. I also have purchased 'New Dawn' (introduced 1930), due to it being the fifteen-dollarest rose at the Home Depot. (My toxic trait is that I am an absolute sucker for a good deal. I don't go into TJ Maxx anymore; it's too dangerous.) 'New Dawn' has all the ancestral, throwback traits I laud here: shade-tolerance, fragrance, disease resistance. It even brings in the pollinators! But it seems to me there's been a noticeable uptick in the quality of newer rose introductions, particularly when it comes to disease resistance. I'm not wired into the professional rose world to know what that is; I'm Literally Just Some Guy. But it's a good trend.

Review: I am so excited for the buds to open, you have no idea.

#9: 'Double Knockout': the 'landscape' rose

Wait, no, I take that back. These roses have too much ease of care. Put some back.

The Knockout rose has one virtue: you cannot kill it with an axe. Literally.

This rose was planted right at the foot of a redwood tree in my garden, because the previous owner of my house was an idiot. This is a terrifically bad setup for roses and redwoods: redwoods acidify the soil, and suck up water and nutrients aggressively, leaving little for surrounding plants, and of course they provide dense shade. Roses hate the acid, the dry and low-nutrient soil, and the shade; this plant never bloomed all last summer. For their part, the redwoods hate having anything planted in their inner root zone - their roots are relatively shallow for such a large tree. This is not a good situation for anyone, so I hacked this rose back to the ground, dug out as much of the root ball as I dared, and in my naivete thought that would be the end of it. Well, it has grown back. Now I am faced with the dilemma of whether to risk root injury to my redwood tree, or just let the rose be, bloomless as it is. Probably the latter is better for the redwood tree, on the whole. Maybe it’ll get choked out if I don’t water it? Anyone’s guess, really.

The category of landscape roses is a 2000s invention. The first Knockout rose was introduced in 2000 after years of intensive selective breeding for being easy-care, free-flowering, and disease-resistant; the similar Drift line was the product of an amateur rose breeder in 2006 to much the same ends. Landscape roses are so named because instead of being demanding prima donnas suited only to those who love roses enough to take on the Rose Tasks, they’re just another pretty shrub in the landscape.

And I will say this for them: in that bad, fungal spore–inundated flower bed I mentioned, my landscape roses (plus Munstead Wood, see below) are notably free of fungal disease.

Also, I think that's leaf tissue proliferating at the center of the bottom left bloom?? A rare but harmless growth disorder of flowering plants.

This comes at a cost, of course, at least if you’re a snob like me. I don’t think landscape roses are very interesting-looking - though of course they come in a wide variety of colors, the better to coordinate with the color scheme of your house! - and they are generally, tragically, without fragrance. While I can’t complain about anything that gets US gardeners to use less pesticides, they are barely roses to me. They are, in fact, the closest roses come to being an inanimate object, a decorative thing you can just plonk down in your garden wherever, like a tacky concrete statue. They’re a commodity; the enchantment is gone. I wouldn’t rip them out where they’re well-sited, but I sure wouldn’t plant more.

Now, this is incredibly mean to people who love landscape roses, but here goes. I’m reminded of a thread from r/Ceanothus, the California native gardening subreddit, that is now burned into my brain. OP asks for a native shrub recommendation, but not just any native shrub. OP wants a native shrub that will grow very tall, but also stay very narrow - 1’ wide in places. OP needs a native shrub that will grow thick and vigorous, to block out their view of the neighbors. OP needs this thing to be evergreen; OP presumably wants low water inputs. And OP needs all this, in a shrub that will grow in full shade.

In fairness, OP was polite about it, and this is a common problem for urban gardeners. The dark, untended canyon between buildings is a very common phenomenon in Californian cities. I too have a narrow, shaded side yard containing a tiny strip of crappy, gravelly dirt, that I’d love to grow something in: how do you think I found this post? Dear reader, I am very much at that devil's sacrament.

And the ceanothusheads of r/Ceanothus tried gamely. But one commenter replied with something that fully changed how I think about gardening:

Source: Reddit

Sometimes, what you need is not a living organism, with its own needs, that will change over time in ways you may not endorse, that interacts with the world around it. Sometimes what you really want is a man-made object. Sometimes what you want to grow in your tall, narrow, lightless, bone-dry side yard, for your privacy requirements, is a fence. And that’s what I think about landscape roses. In Mediterranean and desert climates, as long as there's enough sun, you can always fall back on planting a succulent. But not every location can grow succulents outdoors year-round. In temperate climates, landscape roses could probably be successfully replaced with a particularly attractive boulder. Or, if what you want is a smart-looking, easy-care hedge: consider a fence.

Review: I’d maybe rather plant a fence a succulent.

#10: 'Munstead Wood': the old English rose, reloaded

‘Munstead Wood’, my final acquisition, is a credit to another major modern rose breeding program, this time out of England: David Austin Roses. The main idea of the David Austin rose-breeding project seems to be combining the particular charms of traditional English old garden roses - their fragrance, their romantic, sophisticated forms - with the virtues of modern roses - continuous blooming, a wide range of highly Instagrammable colors - plus disease-tolerance that twenty-first century gardeners now expect. And judging by their singular impact on the contemporary rose market, they seem to have been very successful at that goal. The Reddit reviews are glowing, the forums are abuzz for their hottest new releases (Dannahue restock wen?), their most popular roses are often sold out, and other rose sellers have catalog filters for 'English shrub roses' that allegedly share the looks and fragrance of David Austin's best.

From the author's camera roll. 'I can't believe it's not Dave [sic] Austin!'

Their marketing is also very slick. Their website is very informative, with separate filters for various kinds of roses you might want to buy ('Best for fragrance', 'For a shady spot', 'Thornless or nearly so'), all the rose varieties have literary or historical names or else are named after charming British locations, and are all beautifully photographed in their idyllic show garden, and the prose is carefully engineered to incite lust in the winter-weary gardener. They even do periodic drops of new roses, like a sneaker company.

So last November, I allowed myself to buy one David Austin rose, 'Munstead Wood'.

Source: David Austin Roses

'Munstead Wood' is really gorgeous, I think, blooming in a deep burgundy color. The website claims the fragrance is "Old Rose, with fruity notes of blackberry, blueberry and damson".

An interesting fact about 'Munstead Wood' is that it is actually region-locked. David Austin Roses sells roses in both the US and UK (and maybe other places; sorry I am so American), but the climate of the UK has been changing, with more extreme weather events and even more rain. And you know how it is with roses and the rain. 'Munstead Wood' was no longer able to thrive, and has packed up its little rucksack and gone out to explore the world as a lone vagabond - specifically, America.

So how is it doing here? Great, actually. It may have been rained on every day for the past week, but at least it's not in England, I guess.

'Munstead Wood' has no fungal disease. It looks like it's never even heard of fungal disease. I'm pretty impressed! I can't actually tell you whether the roses are good, but this is a pretty good plant, which is a good start.

Review: I'm holding myself back from buying more David Austin roses right now. God help me, I have two more open full- to part-sun spots in my garden right now.

David Austin, "Lady of Shalott". Call me the Lady of Shalott the way I'm languishing in my tower, gazing only at the mere reflections of the real world (stuck inside, looking at my phone, because of the rain) and am about to throw myself in the river with longing (to be out in the garden)

#this was mostly written like a week and a half ago #delighted to report it has now stopped raining :)#gardening #plantblr #roses #botany #...kind of. not a botanist i just like reading about it #longpost #original content #(i hesitate to call this an 'effortpost': aside from spending an hour on wikipedia trying to graph out the various old garden roses #and their relationships with the species roses that spawned them - it just kind of happened.)

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vexxandra · 6 months ago

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25 predictions for 2025 (pick-a-card reading)

happy new year sillies <3 01-01-2025 ☆

disclaimer: all of my readings are just for fun, you write your own story every day of your life, dont let me tell you how to live it

pile 1 > pile 2 pile 3 > pile 4

pile 1

biggest theme: change

reflexion and redirection are major elements of the new year

breaking free of past shackles : discarding old things

miracle year, a lot of wonderful things are coming

be selfish. you are in charge of your own happiness

you will learn to love yourself this year

fulfilling year especially in terms of career or academics. make sure to properly prepare in order to gain an edge over others

early bird gets the worm mentality

"winter arc" mindset the whole year. "lock in"

first six months will be very busy, you'll focus on yourself and not have the time for romance

learning how to collaborate with others

big lesson: learning how to work through burnout

august 2025 will be a very happy month for you

potential summer fling, will reginite flames you didn't know you had

some kind of soul fulfillment, could potentially be romantic or personal

imbalanced feminine energy, learning to reconnect with your divine feminine

a turbulent period will occur (im hearing mercury retrograde)

last half of the year might be grey

sleepy energy, taking things slower

make sure to rest, dont push yourself to move when sluggy

you're going to end the year with a nice energy. i see you surrounded by lots of family, friends and people you hold dear

if last year did not feel chrismassy, dont worry, because this year will

an extra message about children and new families. pregancy within you or another may occur

releasing all anxieties caused by this year, and a lot of reflexion

overall a pretty good year, some guidance i might give would be to not push yourself over the edge, and try not to drink too much caffiene <3

pile 2

biggest theme: self love

i get the feeling you've lost someone very important this year, most likely a break up, but you still have feelings for them

disillusionment and prioritizing yourself are big themes for this year

you're going to recognize that this person was pretty toxic and will take them off of their pedestal

learning how to fall in love again, with yourself and with life

reconnecting with your femininity

a lot of themes about toxicity and distancing yourself from people that don't have your best interests at heart

crown chakra healing by taking one day at a time (a LOT of light purple imagery in this reading)

very tumultuous first few months of the year, you'll feel like your life is flipping upside down and rightside up for a while

reconnecting with your spiritual guides and your spirituality/religion will bring you peace

if you're not religious, exploring some concepts may occupy your time

potential new romantic interest, but you must fall in love with yourself first

advice i can give would be to start something new, and to spend a lot of time by yourself. take yourself on dates and spend time with loved ones

sleep is very important this year, maybe consider starting a dream journal

i feel like most of you will get into some kind of artsy hobby this year. this can be anything from visual to musical to physical, but i can see it becoming a big passion

learning how to be more flexible in your thoughts and actions is a big lesson

springtime (particularly may) will be an amazing period

indie movie life in the spring, it'll feel like your life is straight out of a book

productivity, creativity, and happiness will be at an all-time high

you'll meet so many new people during this time, and im seeing some travelling too

child-like energy, almost like a giddy joy

make sure to not forget your responsabilities, i can see that you might be too caught up in your excitement and forget to balance work and play

overall very good year. it might not feel like it right now, but things are guarenteed to get better <3

some guidance i would give would be to reflect on your past, but never to dwell in it

pile 3

biggest theme: new beginnings and hope

amazing potential, i can see you're carrying something precious from 2024, and wanting it to grow in the new year

it will, but be sure to wait for the right time and approach it with dedication, consistency and care

strong foundations are laid, but be sure to not be reckless

good communication and problem resolving skills are going to be very important this year

flexibility and detachment are going to be vital too, dont try to control situations and dictate outcomes

forgive others for their mistakes but be sure to be assertive too

for those in a romantic relationship: this relationship will last a long time <3

messages about changing your identity, there will be a time when you dont recognize yourself, take some time to reconnect with your inner values

"lucky girl syndrome" mindset. you'll be attracting so many blessings this year

abundance really is yours this year, the cards are showing so many blessings coming your way

affirm to yourself that you have everything you desire, and it will appear

summertime will be an extremely happy period for you. i see a lot of happy memories being made, and a lot of productivity as well

the end of summer and fall might be when things slow down a little, i see a little more uncertainty and anxiety, but it will all pass

big emphasis on relationships this year, but mostly romantic

for those currently in a relationship, here is confirmation that your person is a soulmate and will be in your life long-term

for the singles out there, you'll soon meet an amazing person (timeframe: june or july)

in terms of academics and career, your year will be pretty tame

there will be important decisions to make, and that might stress you out, but the outcome will be good

bottom line: the ending of this year will be good, and there's nothing you can do to change that

important lessons you will need to learn will be to think things through before acting upon them, hanging with people you feel truly appreciate you, and walking away when you feel they don't

appearances may be deceiving, make sure the people you surround yourself with have your best interests at heart

do not compare yourself with others, this year will hammer in that lesson time and time again

overall a very good year, some guidance i would give would be to guard your heart from people with negative intentions. there are snakes and backstabbers everywhere, keep yourself safe <3

pile 4

biggest theme: self-improvement

this year you'll return to your roots, fully shedding your old life to try and reconnect with your innermost values

reassess what works for you and what doesn't, i sense a lot of toxcitity in your life

this year you'll develop many new relationships with many new people

these relationships will provide interpersonal insight: remember that you are who you surround yourself with

this year, you'll practice setting boundaries

its never aggressive to be assertive, and those who matter won't mind

despite the heavy focus on new relationships, prioritize yourself

going on walks, meditating, journalling and going on solo dates are all amazing ways to start to feel comfortable alone

this year will be full of endings, dont resist it, embrace it

change isn't inherently bad, just like how difference isn't inherently bad

very financially stable year, you'll be more open to taking career risks

if there were any financial struggles in the past year, take comfort in knowing there will be little to nothing of the sort in the future

be careful to not be boastful about your finances though, as its better to succeed in silence

you create your own happiness, you are the main character, stop relying on others to save you

this year, you'll stop seeking others validation and look inside of yourself to find what you've been searching for in others

you'll be stepping into a bad bitch energy this year, one that feels comfortable being alone or with others

strong leadership is something you'll be developping this year, as well as strong manifestation skills

you want it, you're going to get it!!

go after all of your goals this year, hesitance will do you no good

i can see that at the end of the year, you'll emerge a totally different person

you'll be more confident, self-assured and more joyful (i sense that autumn is an important time period)

overall, this year will be a fresh chapter in your life

you'll shed the old you, bad habits, and negative aspects to make way for a life and personality that's authentically you

some advice i would give would be to not be afraid to stand apart, dont worry about the opinions of others

speak of success, and it will come to you <3

#pac #pick a pile #tarot #pick a card #tarot reading #intuition #intuitive messages #pac tarot #intuitive #intuitive readings #free tarot reading #manifestation #have an amazing 2025 <3

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natalicss · 5 months ago

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Like We Were In Paris II

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part one

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, and you’ve kept under the radar this entire time. after the gala de pièces juanes, you two attend the chanel spring-summer 2025 haute contour show. however, the two of you are starting to get tired of keeping your relationship a secret.

warnings: not proofread AT ALL! i’m way too lazy for that, sorry. celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is mid-twenties), lots of fluff, lil bit of angst, use of y/n, i still don’t know how to use this app i feel like an elderly man using a cell phone.

word count: 4.9K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i came back for part two AS PROMISED! this was actually very hard for me to write as i kept changing my mind about how i wanted this to go. so im sorry in advance if its not all that great LMAO. i do wanna write a lil more about american pop star reader & jiyong, maybe i’ll do some sort of head canons about them, or some stuff about their relationship early on. i’m not sure. i also tagged the people who asked to be & i will try to keep tagging people in the future (if they wanna be). anywhore, i hope that you guys enjoy this, if you don’t…sorry<3 toodles!

tag list: @infinetlyforgotten @petersasteria

After the successful Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had spent the next couple days in dressing rooms. You had been invited to Chanel’s Spring-Summer 2025 Haute Couture Show. You said yes, of course, having an affinity for fashion, and never turning down the chance to be near your long-term boyfriend. You and Ji-yong had been to a couple of the same fashion shows before. It was always easy to slip by with nobody noticing your connection. Oftentimes, you two were not seated remotely near each other and are far too busy with the peers around you to sneak away.

But this last week felt particularly more difficult. Unlike in America or South Korea, where you knew the paparazzi and knew very well how to remain under the radar, the Paris press was more complicated. You and Ji-yong had to weave your way around in more secrecy than ever. Every method you could imagine. Some instances, the two of you would sneak through a back door and slide into cars to avoid the cameras. Other instances, the two of you would make separate nonchalant appearances. Ji-yong would leave the hotel first, shy and polite as he waved and greeted the people around him as he’d slip into a car and drive off to his next location. You, wearing designer clothes and sunglasses as you walked out with a big smile and a more confident approach. You’d get in your own car, sliding into the back with your security with a huff. Within moments, you’d open your phone to shoot a text to your lover.

Y/N

i didnt get to say it before you left, but you look handsome today<3

You knew it’d only be a moment before he responded.

Ji<3

Thank you, Aein, you look beautiful!

You and Ji-yong hated that you couldn’t spend this Paris trip together more. After all, you two had all of the same events, same meetings, same friends to visit, and yet you couldn’t be by his side at any of it, not in public. Part of you didn’t mind, used to the routine, but part of you was starting to grow tired. It wasn’t like two years ago, when you first started dating. At that time, Ji-yong was still on hiatus, you were working on your fourth album, and everything had to be a secret. Secret vacations, secret visits, secret dinner dates where the two of you wore silly disguises. You were good sports, making a game out of it and playing ridiculous characters to see who cracked first. But that was two years ago. He was back in the spotlight again, you had released your fifth album a few weeks ago, he was releasing his own work. You two were confident in your relationship, everyone was. What was holding you back?

There was no black and white answer. On one hand, now was the perfect time to announce to the world that their rumors of you dating a random Hollywood actor were all false. On the other hand, were you so willing to give up that last piece of privacy you did have? You weren’t worried about the hate on either side, despite knowing how fans often get if they don’t approve of their favorite celebrities' relationship.

You had been in a public relationship way before Ji-yong. It was years ago, back when you were still new to the world of fame and glamour. Every corner you turned, the cameras flashing, the wave of hate you’d received, the amount of gossip around every song you released being about them or not, their interviews for their movies always being about you. Your careers had been forced to blend due to the way people reacted. The world had taken your last relationship by storm and had seemingly strangled it with their love and adoration. The lack of privacy, individuality, and respect for the two of you had been what led to you and your last partners split. It took the two of you years before the media finally stopped associating everything either of you did together. So, understandably, part of you was worried about that happening again.

You thought about all of this as you and Ji-yong were getting ready for the day. You both had things to attend to, tomorrow being the fashion show. One last fitting, one last meeting with your teams. You were styling your hair as Ji-yong had finished getting dressed, the agreement for him to leave the hotel first still agreed on. He looked at you, and you could see the way his eyes softened as he observed your eyes. He knew everything about you, down to the way your face looked when you were deep in thought, perhaps about to drown yourself with your ability to overthink.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, speaking in Korean first as he approached. You didn’t say anything, busy running your fingers through your hair as he quietly stepped next to you. He met your eyes in the mirror, his lips curling. “There she is.” You blushed at his words, putting your hands down as you finally turned your body to face him. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He asks, reaching up to adjust your hair framing your face.

You didn’t know where to start. You and Ji-yong had talked about this a million times before. You two had always agreed to keep things the way they are. You weren’t sure if he was ready to change that. As he watched you get lost in your thoughts again, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. Your eyes were glossy, not all there as you already started mapping out every way the conversation could go, preparing yourself for every out come.

“Jagiya, you’re worrying me,”

You blink. It takes you a second to come back to the present, taking a deep breath as you try to explain the heavy complicated feelings in your heart. “I’ve been thinking, through this whole trip,” You subconsciously reach for his hands, looking for comfort and something to anchor you down. He lets you, his thumb running along your skin in soothing patterns. “I don’t know how much longer I want to keep us a secret.” You blurt, staring at your connected hands rather than his eyes. You were too worried about what you might find.

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. Your heart twists in anxiety, but you don’t dare to look up. Ji-yong’s breathing changes, only the slightest bit, but you notice. He stops his thumb from tracing its delicate patterns, instead letting it tap against your skin. You feel guilty. You both had so much to do today, this conversation could have waited til tonight, after the show tomorrow, or at just about any other time. You weren’t sure, but you knew this wasn’t it.

Ji-yong adjusts his posture, pulling one hand away from yours, only to bring it to your face. With the gentlest touch, he lifts your head so you finally see his eyes. They’re not angry, or frustrated, or even remotely annoyed. Instead, they’re as soft and warm as they’d always been, making your heart flutter the slightest bit. To be honest, Ji-yong had thought about this too. He’d admitted before that going public worried him. He was a celebrity, and that immediately brings its own multitudes of hardships. He knew that he’d keep any and all relationships a secret, unless the person he was with said otherwise. You had come into his life, unexpectedly, and changed his entire world in the best ways he could imagine. And here you were, the person he knew was the love of his life, staring back at him with sadness because of that very sentiment.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been feeling it too. He wanted to hold your hand down the streets of Paris, the two of you pointing out different things you loved about it, sharing kisses under streetlights. That night at the Gala, he had wanted to kiss you as soon as he was off the stage. And when you were finished performing? He wanted to part the crowd and sweep you into his arms, like he did at your own tours. But he’d been worried, worried about what people might say to you or about you. He knew how harsh they got. He knew you could handle it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to put you in that position unless you were ready.

His hand, which caresses your face with a certain level of sincerity you only ever felt from him, was soft and moved gently. He smiled, a soft gentle one that made you feel more at ease as you realized he wasn’t mad at you in any way. “It hasn’t been easy, has it?” He asks you, raising a brow. You only shake your head, lips pursed into a line. He studies your features like you’re a work of art (cause you are). “I miss every second I’m not with you. All I can think about is where you might be. If you’re smiling. If you’re anxious. If you’re laughing. If you’re thinking about me, too.” He leans in close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And then you text me, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to be with you, and how mad I am that you’re not next to me.” You nod in understanding. You’d always felt that way about him, to the point it made your heart clench.

“I love you,”

“I love you more.”

You’re blushing wildly as he kisses your lips softly. Your feelings for him being translated into simple intimate touches. You’d never experienced something like Ji-yong before. You never wanted to let that go.

When he pulls away, he’s reaching for your jacket hanging off the back of a chair. You smile at him, memorizing his face like you’d done a million times before. You slide your arms into the jacket, letting your boyfriend adjust your outfit slightly. He focuses on your hair, bringing it out form under it and framing your face. Everytime his fingers brush your skin it leaves faint tingles in their wake.

“Why don’t we talk to everyone when we get home?” He suggests, looking back at you. Your eyes widen. You search his expression. “If you’re positive, then I’m with you.”

You smiled wide. You couldn’t help it. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” Your arms wrap around his neck, and he laughs softly as you start to kiss all over his face. “I want nothing more than to scream about how I’m dating G-Dragon.” He rolls his eyes playfully, still not used to you using his stage name after all this time.

The rest of your days went smoothly. Both of you finishing up with your work, having dinner with friends, coming back to the hotel room to spend every possible moment together. Soft laughter as you each told stories from your pasts (many you’ve already told), legs tangled together under the sheets of your bed. Small intimate touches. Fingers tracing shapes on skin. Gentle kisses. Messy hair. If possible, your eyes were certainly heart shaped every moment you looked at him.

It was hard to hide it, even now, as you sit at the Chanel show. Both of you had arrived at different times, wearing extravagant outfits. You could feel his eyes on you as you posed for the cameras. He tried to keep his composure when he knew you were near by as he did interviews. Luckily for both of you, you’ve had years of practice. You held your head high with confidence, switching your energy from your usual softer self to the person you were on stage. America’s pop star. America’s princess. The way you posed yourself elegantly, batting your full lashes and gave your most sultry looks. How was Ji-yong supposed to not look? You were sitting in your seat, looking down at your phone as a text popped up.

Ji<3

You’re the most beautiful one here

You looked across the runway, your heart skipping a beat. He was already looking at you, a knowing shy smile on his face as he kept his phone in his hand. You smiled back at him, looking back at your phone.

Y/N

Says you<3 I love you

You put your phone in your lap, looking around some more. You felt lucky you had been to so many events, most of these people you already knew one way or another. It made small talk with the people next to you flow easily. Every now and again, you’d sneak a glance at your boyfriend, who was always staring at you like you were the show itself. It was hard to hide your blushed face, keep your voice from pitching when you talked to the other celebrities, and nearly impossible not to stare right back at him.

The show itself seemed to pass by with ease. You watched thoughtfully at every piece, making mental notes of things you particularly liked and wanted to mention to your assistant later. You’d lean over to your new friend of the night, whispering about different pieces and sharing your thoughts. You could see Ji-yong completely focused on the show, his eyes studying every model with intrigue. It was clear every piece that came out was being calculated into various looks. If he thought of something that worked, he’d raise his phone and take a quick photo. You smiled every time, excited to hear what he was thinking of later.

As the show came to an end, you were talking with your team as you felt someone graze past you. You looked up to see your familiar boyfriend, smiling at you fondly. You knew there were cameras everywhere, one minor slip leading to a whirlwind of chaos and news articles. The anxiety in your chest felt tight, but you kept your cool, straightening your posture and giving him a smile.

Ji-yong looked around, as if silently piecing together something. You followed his gaze, trying to see exactly what he was looking at. To you, there was nothing particularly interesting one way or another. Some fellow stars were talking, being interviewed, or just admiring the scene. Photographers were taking photos of guests, journalists asking people various questions. To you, it looked like every other fashion show even you’d been to. To Ji-yong, it looked like an opportunity.

There were no words shared. His hand clasped around yours, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his. You blinked in surprise, looking ahead as Ji-yong started pulling you through the sea of people. You were wide-eyed as you looked around. Your teams hadn’t noticed you disappearing, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. But Ji-yong moved with purpose, walking through like this wasn’t strange or something other people should take a second glance at. You tried to mimic his confidence, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to simmer down.

In a quiet corner away from the cameras and the wandering eyes, Ji-yong finally came to a stop. You looked at him with a surprised expression. Your lipstick-painted lips parted slightly as you watched him look at you. He adjusted the tie around his neck, something he’d been doing the entire day. You looked behind you, worried who was watching, but a hand wrapping around your waist caught your attention.

His lips pressed against yours. Soft, passionate, and urgent. You squeaked in surprised against him, your hands landing on his chest as he pulled you further into the corner. Hidden away from your peers, from your teams, and from the layers of paparazzi. Your hands clutched tighter onto his jacket. His hands, which traced your body slowly, slowly lifted to grab your face with the most gentle touch. As he pulled away, you could only blink at him with big doe eyes.

“I couldn’t stand there and act like you weren’t the most beautiful thing here.” He whispers.

The words caused your heart to do flips against your ribcage. His touch seemingly brought you back to earth, his thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone. “Says you, Monsieur G-Dragon,” You tease as you run your hands over the jacket again. This time, he’s the one trying to hide the way his cheeks blush. You looked at the bow tie with the flower on it, tilting your head as you reached up, slowly maneuvering the flower off. He looks down, blinking at it as you hold the flower in your hand, “Is that better?”

He reaches up, adjusting the tie again, and smiling softly. “Yes. Thank you.” He says finally. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual” You sigh dramatically, shrugging your shoulders. Ji-yong chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Got whisked away by a hot guy, can’t complain.”

Ji-yong raises a brow in amusement. “Is that what happened?” He asks. You look around. “What else would you call this?”

He steps closer, looking up in thought as he lets his arms wrap around your waist. His lips in a line as he tilts his head slightly. He narrows his eyes at you playfully. He didn’t have an answer. He rather liked the idea of whisking you away from the public eye. He did it often, though usually it was more hidden than this. You leaned into his touch, a natural instinct. The rest of the world seemed to drift away, even in moments like this. Only you and Ji-yong existed. Life was better with him. He knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how to make you laugh, how to calm your nerves, how to soothe your cries. He knew your favorite snacks, your order at your favorite coffee shop, and your favorite movies. The same could be said for you. You knew how to quiet his overwhelming thoughts, how to make him smile in stressful moments. You knew his favorite songs to play in the car. His favorite jewelry pieces to wear. You had his tells of when he was anxious or upset burned into your brain. And when one of you were around the other, everybody else melted into the background. Your love trumping anything else.

“We should probably get back out there,” You whisper. He hums in agreement, but neither of you make any move to leave. You lean closer into him, your head resting on his chest as his chin rested on top of your head. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the two of you were together again; a few hours at most. Lately, those hours felt like decades.

Ji-yong gave you another squeeze. “You go out first, jagiya,” He whispers. You pull away from his embrace, staring up at him. The way your glossy eyes sparkled up at him. It was like he could see every ounce of love for him you had, pouring out of you. He framed your face in his hands, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. Reluctantly, you pulled away from his touch, looking back at him again as you walked away. He only smiled softly. Your heart yearned to stay in that corner with him forever, until your managers found you and ripped the two of you apart. You chewed the inside of your cheek, turning away from him completely as you looked for any sign of your team.

In the dark of your hotel room, you and Ji-yong were a tangled mess of bedsheets and limbs. The rest of the event blew by, you making some lame excuse to your team that you had gone to the bathroom, and Ji-yong telling his team that he was looking at some of the pieces again. You ended up having a romantic dinner together, talking about the event and the people you ran into. A quiet night with glasses of champagne and flirtatious glances.

But now, as the two of you were sleeping peacefully in your quiet room, your phones began to buzz. A violent series of notifications flooding both of your phones. You begin to stir first, rolling over slowly, pulling Ji-yongs arms off of you as you reached for your cellphone. A series of calls, texts, emails, all from your manager, publicist, assistant, even friends of yours. You blinked a few times, your eyes squinting at the bright screen as you opened up a text from your closest friend. A news article.

Unexpected Couple! Musician Y/N L/N Seen With K-Pop Idol G-Dragon at Chanel Fashion Show

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach. No, no, no. You had been so careful for so long. You scroll, your breath escaping you as you look at a photo of you and Ji-yong. His hands on your face, his lips on yours. Another photo of you looking up at him like he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen (he was, to be fair). For a moment, you just stared blankly. Your thoughts struggle to catch up as your body seems to react for you. Nausea came over you. The room suddenly felt too small. The words on the screen burned into your eyes.

You looked at the top of your phone, seeing another phone call from your manager coming in. You ignore it, reaching over to your boyfriend and shaking him. “Ji?” You whisper. When he doesn’t immediately respond, your eyes begin to water. The anxiety, the fear, the stress catching up to you. It crawls up your spine like some sort of ugly clawed fingers reaching for your throat. You shake him again, a little more harsh as you croak. “Ji-yong.”

His eyes shot open. He flinches awake, looking around the room in a momentary panic before looking at you. First, he relaxes, realizing it’s just you. Then, his tired eyes take in yours. The tears threatening to spill over, your shaking frame, your heavy breathing. He sits up now, looking you over in concern. “Aein…? What’s wrong?” As he wakes up, he hears his phone. He turns to look at it, but the whimper from your lips stops him. Slowly, you hand your phone over. Ji-yong looks at you in confusion, but takes it and looks down.

Oh.

What was once a comforting silence now felt cold. The incessant vibrations of his phone on the nightstand made your ears ring. You crawled out of bed, wearing one of Ji-yong’s shirts as pajamas. You paced the carpeted floor, running your hands through your hair. Ji-yong remained silent. He read the article. Then he reread it. Then he read it again. He looked at the photos over and over. The title. The numerous texts you were getting. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. He sat in the bed, dumbstruck.

On one hand, part of him wanted to be relieved. The secret was out, and there was no reason to hide his love for you anymore. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be on your terms. Organized by your teams. Some staged paparazzi sighting, or maybe a hard launch on your social medias. He wasn’t sure. The two of you never discussed it that far. Now there was no choice. All because he’d dragged you into his embrace in secret. A selfish moment, now on the cover of multiple articles.

Slowly, he put your phone down, putting it on silent before reaching for his own. He winced at the number of texts he was getting, reaching triple digits. He even saw texts from Taeyang and Daesung, two of the few people who knew about your relationship. But he didn’t answer anyone, turning his own phone off so he could set his attention on your pacing figure. “Jagiya,” He pulls himself out of bed, approaching you with soft eyes. You keep pacing, shaking your head as you try to sort your racing thoughts. “Jagiya, look at me,” He reaches for your hands, pulling you to face him completely. His heart ached as he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your eyes wide with fear and worry. You wanted to go public. But not like this. You’d done so well at keeping your life private, and now it felt like it had been stripped away from you before you could even do it yourself. “I’m so sorry,”

His words caught you off guard. There’s a heartbeat of silence as you look at him. Your brows crinkle together as you look at him. His sad, anxious expression as he guiltily looks away. “What?” You whisper, a moment of clarity through your emotional storm.

Ji-yong swallows, looking around the room as he holds your hands tightly. Your touch being the only thing grounding him to this moment. “If we hadn’t, if I hadn’t pulled you away, they wouldn’t have seen anything.” He explains. Your eyes dance over his face as you let what he’s saying register. You shake your head. “Ji,” You coo, reaching forward to push his mint hair out of his face. He looks at you, eyes sad and guilty. “It’s not your fault. We knew that there was a risk. Since day one.” You remind him. You were right. Since you started dating two years ago, there was always the possibility the media would find out about the two of you. Both of you are major stars, with public lives (to some degree). “I just, I can’t believe it got leaked at a Chanel show.”

Ji-yong is quiet for a moment, looking over at you. “The photos are cute.” He says. You look at him in surprise. You think about the photos, how oddly scenic they were, how the photographer had captured a genuinely sweet and beautiful moment. You couldn’t help but laugh, wiping at your tears. Ji-yong cracks a smile, though the worry in his eyes still evident. Not worried for himself, no, but worry for you.

“Our managers are going to kill us.” You say, your voice weak from crying and still being tired. Ji-yong nods his head. “What are we going to do?”

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What do you want to do?” He asks you. Naturally, the two of you drift towards each other. Your arms wrap around each others frames, Your face tucked into his neck as you close your eyes. His grip on you tight, still gentle, and protective. His fingers rake through your hair as he waits. No rush for you to answer. No rush to figure out the rest of the world. He lets you simmer in his touch, your mind still racing.

You clutch onto him, not moving away from him as you start to talk. “I want you. That’s it. I want to be able to be with you. I’m not ashamed of being with you, Ji. I’m proud. So proud of you, being with you. I love you.” You feel his arms tighten around you. Slowly, you lift your head and look into his eyes. Now, they were glassy.

Ji-yong blinks away the pending tears as he sniffles. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N,” He whispers, reaching up to push your hair out of your face. You lean into his touch. “I will never be afraid to say that.”

You lean closer, kissing him softly. Your heart still pounding against your chest, your mind still a storm of fear and worry for what wrath you’d face from the media, but it didn’t matter. Not in the long run. You had Ji-yong. You loved Ji-yong more than you could ever explain to him or anyone else. And you knew that the two of you would figure it out together. You’d figure out everything together.

“Are you ready?” He asks you, looking at your phones on the bed. This was it. No more secret rendezvous. No more sneaking around. No more lying in interviews about your relationship status. Everybody knows now. There was no hiding from it now.

You smile at him, your eyes sparkling in the way he loved. You nod your head. “I’m ready,” You assure him.

And by the time the two of you would be leaving Paris, on your way back to Seoul, the entire world knew the secret you’d been keeping to yourselves. And in the early morning as you rushed out of your hotel with your security guards, you two didn’t hide from the paparazzi. Ji-yong walked with you, hand-in-hand, as you walked towards your car. The shouts of fans and cameras catch your attention. You smile and wave, blushing wildly as you realize this was real.

Ji-yong stands up straighter, his hand tightening in yours as he pulls you close. His hand releases yours, only to wrap around your waist tightly as he leads you forward. Ji-yong opens the door for you, despite the security guard reaching for it. Fans scream in awe, and you lean over quickly to press a kiss on his cheek. A weight you didn’t know was there, suddenly lifted. You beamed as Ji-yong slid into the seat next to you. His expression matched yours. Filled with love, excitement, a certain fondness and admiration. “Au revoir, Paris,” Ji-yong muttered as the car started to move. You giggled, leaning into him as you looked around the streets.

“Taeyang and Daesung will never let us hear the end of this.” You muttered, playing with Ji-yong's fingers absentmindedly. A gentle groan comes from Ji-yong, causing you to laugh again. An infinite amount of teasing and playful jokes awaited the two of you back home. Along with a million questions from friends, coworkers, the media, and who knows who else. But you were okay with that. It hadn’t been completely on your terms, but it was yours. Ji-yong was yours.

And if nothing else, it made your stories about Paris far more entertaining.

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #gdragon #kwon jiyong #bigbang #bigbang x reader #kpop fluff #kwon jiyong fanfic #fanfic #x reader

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ktownshizzle · 6 months ago

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Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.

His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.

He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes.

It’s your fault. Of course, it is.

God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.

He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer… and that’s it.

Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)

He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.

Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.

A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races.

His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi.

Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.

He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.

Back to the photo.

Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.

Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick.

He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.

But he’s not there yet.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.

Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.

If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch.

The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever.

Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.

You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.

Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real.

Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.

AllKpop Scoop:

Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung

Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.

The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth.

Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.

The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.

And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.

The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.

You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.

Yoongi.

You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.

“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.

“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.

“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”

“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”

“So it’s all bullshit?”

“YES.” he replies emphatically.

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.

“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

Part Five >

A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo

See you in the next half! :)

Permanent Taglist:

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

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ivesambrose · 5 months ago

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Your Spring 2025 Blessings

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

I intend that everyone has a lovely spring

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

More timeless readings

Services Offered

Client Love

Thank you for the tip!

Picture 1

- This spring you'll be successfully completing a task or goal that you have been tirelessly working towards for quite a few months. For some of you, this could have been years in the making too. With one thing achieved, you can now move on to something else but don't forget to be in the moment and celebrate this win either. Whatever you have crafted will receive it's recognition too.

- Recovering lost wealth or in simple terms, the money you have spent (or some of you, if you have incurred loss) will come back to you twicefold.

- You'll also feel less lonely. Infact, you'll feel as though a community, person, Friends etc have your back. Which in turn is making you feel secure within yourself.

- New love and emotional renewal for some of you a happy relationship as well. Your cup will be filled. Don't worry.

- A lot of fun, shared joy and celebration with friends/family/found family.

- A new and better environment or home/work space.

- Harmony at home.

- Most of you will be around people who share an alleviated and positive mindset that will in turn lead to you having a better one. You'll have a much better outlook on life. This in turn will make life easier compared to the 'at my wit's end' feeling you may have been having for the couple of months.

Picture 2

- This spring you'll be blessed with the ability to create a secure and and nurturing life for yourself while balancing everything else with grace. The financial freedom you have been seeking will will come. You'll feel a sense of self sufficiency and a deep sense of confidence in your self worth.

- You'll also be able to take a pause and learn something new. You'll also have a new perspective of things that help you navigate circumstances better instead of feeling like you're stuck.

- If you're a student or pursuing higher education this will also be a promising time for you.

- Realisation that what you fear becomes so insignificant once you take your awareness away from it.

- A possible mentor or guide who helps you learn or hone your existing skills for the better.

- The urge to lead confidently rather than simply follow and be answerable to others.

- A lot of you have been struggling with anxiety or anticipating the worst possible scenarios or outcomes. You may even weed certain friends or people out of your life who are adding to this feeling. This could simply mean that they take more from you than they're willing to give. Others might be dealing with people who simply want to have control over you. But you'll be blessed with the right people, right connections and honest friends who push you out of situations and mindsets that have been constricting you. Your own intuition and wisdom will be a great blessing within itself as well.

Picture 3

- This spring you're stepping into your power, your untouched potential, waking up and realising that you're not going to hold yourself back anymore. A lot of you will put yourself, your talents, your skills etc out there. You're laser focused on your end goal and vision. So whatever happens in between is simply your means to the end. You want to simply enjoy your journey now, experience your life. And you will.

- Some of you might be getting something you have been wishing for and will keep it a secret from everyone. I also sense some of you will literally run away/flee a place or situation that you can no longer be bothered with.

- Soul searching and finding your own path.

- Offers and opportunities to choose from.

- Finally being able to regulate your nervous system most of you have felt on the edge and don't have the best sleep cycle or healthy lifestyle. This will change.

- Preparing for a summer getaway.

- Unfiltered happiness. So the glow up that shows externally is because you feel that way internally. You'll have plenty of blessings to count even if initially you feel like you're everything on your own. You've always been the lone wolf afterall. But your tribe will find you. Start actually living your life rather than surviving it.

#free readings #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a picture #pick a pile #spring 2025 #spring 2025 pick a card #tarot readers #tarot community #tarot readers of tumblr

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critter-of-the-day · 4 days ago

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19th of June 2025: Canyon Bat

We’re doing another winged critter today, though closer to us on the evolutionary tree: the Canyon Bat (Parastrellus hesperus), also known as the Western Pipistrelle. They’re found in Southwestern North America, where during the day they roost in between rocky surfaces such as boulders [1]. They are the smallest species of North American bat [2], being only around 7 cm in length [3].

While they don’t migrate, they hibernate in mines and caves during the winter [1], but in the summer they tend to wake up exceptionally early. They start flying early in the evening, before the sun has even set, and stay up until the early morning hours [3]. This also helps stagger competition for resources such as water with other species of bats [4].

As most bats, they primarily feed on insects. Most of these are caught mid-flight, however one molecular study found the genes of insects in their faeces which are between 1.5 and 3 cm in length, which likely would’ve been too cumbersome for the small bats to consume in flight [5]. They eat around 20% of their body weight in insects during one hunting and feeding session [3].

They reproduce in spring and summer, with the females carrying a 40 day pregnancy to term in late May or early July, birthing either one or two young. Initially the mother and children will roost separately to the rest of the colony [6], until by August the children have learned how to fly and have become difficult to distinguish from adults [3].

Sources: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [Image]

#critter of the day #bat #bat species #bat facts #small mammal #animal species #zoology #animal #animal facts

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chaiandtchaikovsky · 2 months ago

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may 1, 2025.

officially finished the spring term :>

I have a little more than a week until summer term starts and I’ll be taking intro to chemistry and continuing my piano lessons. I’ve also been volunteering at a plant nursery over the past month and I might also continue that through the summer :}

#studyblr #student #studyspo #academia #student life #photography #mine #music major #university #productivity #study aesthetic

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witches-school · 7 months ago

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Are you a witch who's just coming back into witchcraft? A pagan who wants to start being a witch? A witch who wants to start being a pagan? A baby witch? An experienced one who's curious? A wizard/alchemist/warlock that's curious about witchcraft? A respectful nonbeliever? A Christian witch? A pagan?

This course will either help you get started, refresh your memory, or sate your curiosity, all while giving you a space to interact with others who are or want to be witches!

#pagan #pagan community #pagan witch #paganism #paganblr #witchblr #witchcraft #baby witch #beginner witch #witchy tips #witchcraft community #Spring Term 2025

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sminny-wew · 2 months ago

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This is all just my own speculation, but I think Howdy might be next on the Witnessing The Horrors train. And I don't have an explanation for it rn but based on the recurring presence of the Buggle, I strongly feel like Barnaby's going to be involved somehow since he's Howdy's best customer (something something watchdog)

(Putting this under a Read More b/c I wound up having a lot to say)

Eddie's moment in the Homewarming update was based around him not knowing what to do with himself when he's not being the mailman, the role he was made for. Poppy's moment in the first Looky-Loo mini-update strikes me as being about her not knowing how not to be a big chicken (the role she was made for), as well as the other neighbors not knowing how to include her and thinking it's better to just trap her in her own house than to compromise with her, making her nerves worse as a result. Julie's moment in the Springtime Salutations update was about her insecurities in her relationships with her family and Frank, her insecurity in her roles (make the flowers bloom, invent new games, and overall be the most joyful neighbor), and not knowing what to do when spring comes early or a flower just won't bloom no matter what she does.

Howdy's role is to be a businessman, to supply his neighbors with what they need and sell them what they don't. My guess is that Howdy's moment will have something to do with supply and demand, his job and his personal life becoming indistinguishable from each other, and the pressure that family, customers, and superiors can put on a person to meet certain expectations. I also highly suspect, based on other people's observations about the flower from Julie's hidden videos resembling the logo, that Marlo will be relevant again.

There's an old saying about employment that goes, "If you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life." But in-universe, Welcome Home is a product of its time (1969-1974), when America was kinda-sorta still riding the high of its post-World War 2 economic prosperity but was beginning to see a rise in income inequality. (What a funny coincidence that Welcome Home presumably aired while Nixon was president...) I don't think I need to tell you that, in 2025, it's harder than ever to find successful, long-term employment that will earn you a livable wage without working yourself to death or requiring a college degree that will plunge you into lifelong debt. Things have changed a lot since the neighborhood left the airwaves (assuming WH was ever even a real show in-universe).

But I digress. Howdy Pillar's Going Through The Horrors™ moment.

What happens to Howdy when his best customer (Barnaby) is preoccupied, either by sickness or a prior engagement? Do his nerves about financial success ever stress him out, as implied in that image of him and Anthony Rancho? What happens when Howdy cannot meet the demands of his neighbors to supply them with what they need? How would Howdy react if the neighbors suddenly decided to make their own resources, instead of buying from him?

If Howdy's not a breadwinner, appeasing his family and the businessmen at Marlo by selling enough goods to be considered a profitable business investment well off, then who is he?

He doesn't know.

#welcome home #welcome home spoilers #howdy pillar #barnaby b beagle #anthony rancho #FOR THE RECORD IDK IF ANTHONY RANCHO WILL BE A SIGNIFICANT CHARACTER OUTSIDE OF THAT AD FOR THE WH STORE #I JUST THINK HE REALLY EMBODIES THE POINT I WAS TRYING TO GET AT WITH HOWDY'S CONFLICT

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sowerpatch · 6 days ago

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terms of play [chapter 1 - the expansion play]

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: After a challenge at a family dinner, billionaire real estate property developer Azzi Fudd decides to start a WNBA expansion team. With a sharp team behind her and a clear vision, she builds the Golden State Valkyries in San Francisco. As the 2025 draft approaches, all signs point to one player—UConn’s Paige Bueckers. While Paige dominates the court, Azzi quietly prepares a franchise that’s not just ready to win—but built with her in mind.

Fudd Private Estate, Northern California. August 2023.

Dinner was almost done, the last of the grilled sea bass cleared, the conversation slipping into its usual rhythm of real estate forecasts and international zoning headaches. Out on the terrace, string lights blinked above marble columns, glowing like fireflies. Inside, the table gleamed—mahogany polished to a perfect shine, linen napkins folded into neat triangles.

Azzi sat between her mother and her older brother, Trey. Legs crossed, watching the slow swirl of wine in her glass. She had been quiet most of the evening, letting her brothers talk over each other the way they always did when the market was up and their egos were sharper than usual.

“You closed the Charleston deal?” she asked finally, cutting through Trey’s retelling of a boardroom clash.

Her eldest brother, James, nodded as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “We came in two-point-eight billion over the projections. Construction begins in six months.”

Their father gave a grunt of approval. Their mother hummed and reached for her water.

Azzi glanced across the table. “And what are you doing with all that extra goodwill, Jimmy?”

He smirked. “Redeveloping a dying downtown district and renaming the park after myself.”

Trey laughed. “Philanthropy at its finest.”

“Speaking of,” James added, turning toward her, “You’ve been busy handing out grants again. New initiative for girls’ sports, right?”

Azzi nodded. “Three new training facilities. One in Detroit, two in Phoenix. Fully operational by spring.”

Trey raised his glass in mock toast. “Saving the world, one blueprint at a time.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Is there a point coming?”

“There is,” he said, grinning. “You’re always writing checks. But I’m wondering when you’ll stop funding things and actually build something that isn’t a foundation.”

“I build all the time.”

James leaned in, elbows on the table. “We mean something that moves. Something alive. You’ve got the money, the backing, the public image.”

“Start a team,” Trey said, a little too casually. “Something new. From the ground up. You want to talk about real change in women’s sports? That’s where it happens.”

Azzi blinked slowly, caught by the shift in tone. “You want me to build a team.”

Trey shrugged. “Why not?”

James added, “It’s not like you’re risk-averse. You took on a $600 million flood zone in Miami. A team is a child’s play.”

“It’s also far outside my scope,” she replied, voice calm. “I don’t follow leagues. I don’t know the system.”

“You didn’t know how to navigate renewable infrastructure either,” Trey said. “Now you’re advising senators.”

She exhaled, quiet but thoughtful. Her wine glass hung between her fingers as she stared toward the edge of the terrace, where the hills disappeared into shadows.

“A team in what league?”

Trey didn’t hesitate. “WNBA.”

The name lingered in the air.

Azzi gave a short laugh. “You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” James said. “It’s still expanding. They’re opening the door for new franchises. You’d be one of the few female owners, if not the youngest. And your last name doesn’t hurt.”

Trey grinned. “Besides, you’re the only one of us who’d actually do it well.”

There was a long pause. Azzi’s eyes stayed fixed on the dark horizon, her thoughts already moving faster than her brothers could see.

Without looking back, she lifted her glass and took a slow sip, the stem steady between her fingers.

Trey watched her closely. “So?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Her eyes lingered on the hills beyond the terrace, where the last light was slipping beneath the edge of the vineyard.

“I never asked for a challenge,” she said, voice low. “But I don’t walk away from one either.”

James smirked. “That’s not a yes.”

She gave a faint smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Isn’t it?”

Their mother let out a quiet sigh, already sensing the shift in air.

But Azzi was somewhere else entirely. Her mind moved fast and silent, calculating what a new venture would demand. She didn’t know the system, hadn’t followed the structure or rhythm of this world. It would take work, leverage, timing, instinct.

And still, the idea pulled at her.

Not because she cared about the game. But because something about it was unclaimed.

She let the silence stretch, the glass poised just below her lips.

Then, without another word, she stood and slipped out onto the terrace.

Inside, her brothers watched her go, unsure if they’d won or simply opened a door she had already planned to walk through.

Fudd Holdings, New York. September 2023.

The skyline beyond Azzi’s glass walls was cold steel and soft morning light. The city stirred beneath her, a quiet hum barely reaching the forty-second floor. From here, everything felt still—like the world was waiting for her next move.

She stood in silence, coffee cooling in her hand, gaze fixed beyond the horizon. Her calendar buzzed every eight minutes, but none of it mattered right now. Not the Zurich call. Not the Dallas rezoning conflict. Not the gala prep in New York.

The only thing on her desk was a sealed manila folder. Franchise proposal templates. Expansion forecasts. A league dossier annotated in someone else’s hand.

She hadn’t opened it.

But she hadn’t thrown it away either.

Behind her, the door opened without a knock. Only one person in the building had that kind of clearance.

“You’re either planning to buy a spaceship,” said Nika Mühl, walking in without slowing, “or you’re finally giving in and building that team.”

Azzi didn’t turn. “Is that what people think?”

“Well, your brothers certainly do. And you’ve been moody ever since that dinner. I don’t like when you get quiet. You make headlines after.”

Azzi gave the smallest of smiles, still looking out the window. “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m Croatian,” Nika replied. “We don’t do subtle.”

She crossed the room with practiced ease, tablet tucked under one arm, white sneakers a sharp contrast against the black stone floor. Chief Operating Officer of Fudd Holdings by title, but she'd been Azzi's best friend since their freshman year at Harvard. Back when Azzi was the one skipping finance lectures and Nika was the one dragging her back with coffee and tactical guilt.

Now, Nika handled billion-dollar contracts, kept Azzi’s empire standing, and had a habit of knowing exactly when to walk in without knocking.

She stopped beside her. “So. Team?”

Azzi said nothing.

Nika clicked her tongue. “You do realize it’s not like ordering room service, right? You don’t just build a team. You build a front office. A scouting system. A market presence. A brand. A culture.”

“That’s why I have you.”

“Wrong,” Nika said, folding her arms. “You have me because I’m good at telling you when something’s a horrible idea.”

Azzi finally turned to face her, leaning a shoulder against the window. Her voice was low, almost amused. “And is this one?”

“I don’t know yet. But I know you. If you’re thinking about it this much, you’re already in. You just haven’t said it.”

Azzi didn’t reply.

Nika’s tone shifted. “You’d be the first. The youngest owner. A woman. A woman of color. It’ll rattle every boardroom on both the West and East Coasts. Your face will also land a cover in Time Magazine’s Most Influential People of2023.”

“Good,” Azzi said softly.

Nika smirked. “I should’ve known. You’ve already started.”

Azzi walked to her desk, ignoring the tablet Nika had placed beside the folder. She picked up a plain notepad instead. Paper clean and waiting.

She wrote one word.

Then paused.

There were no names yet. No colors. No city she was ready to claim. Just the shape of something she hadn’t fully spoken aloud.

She stared at the page for a long moment.

Nika leaned against the desk. “You know if you do this, you’re going to have to live in the same headlines you usually avoid. Press. Interviews. Every move picked apart.”

“I don’t mind being watched,” Azzi said, pen still in hand.

“What about being underestimated?”

Azzi glanced up at her. “That’s never been my problem.”

Outside, the clouds had begun to thin. A shaft of light cut through the skyline and landed across the desk.

Azzi closed the notebook and slid it into the drawer.

“Can you tell Ines to clear my afternoon?”

“For what?” Nika asked, already pulling out her phone.

Azzi didn’t answer. She just turned back toward the window, her expression unreadable.

From this height, the world looked like something she could bend in her hands. And maybe, if she wanted, she would.

WNBA League Headquarters, Manhattan. November 2023.

The room smelled faintly of polish and ego. Neutral walls, thick glass table, the kind of chairs designed to keep meetings short. Still, Azzi looked comfortable. Unbothered in black. Her tailored coat hung off the back of her seat, and she hadn’t touched the espresso served when she arrived.

Across from her sat four executives, each with a pen, a notepad, and a carefully curated expression.

“This isn’t a typical ownership proposal,” one of them finally said, glancing at the file open in front of him. “You’re young. Unaffiliated. No prior league ties. And no prior team experience.”

Azzi didn’t blink. “And?”

The man cleared his throat. “And we’re aware of your success. Real estate. Development. Media. But this is a different ecosystem. A community. It’s built on history. Legacy.”

“I’m not interested in legacy,” she said, flatly. “I’m interested in evolution.”

The woman beside him leaned forward slightly. “You’re asking for an expansion license. That’s no small request for a young businesswoman. Why now?”

Azzi met her eyes without hesitation. “Because you’re leaving value on the table. The interest is there. The numbers are climbing. Your audiences skew younger, more global, more invested than ever. But you’re still thinking like it’s 2003.”

A beat of silence passed. Someone coughed.

“I’m not here to collect a trophy franchise,” Azzi continued. “I’m here to build a flagship.”

The tension in the room shifted. Not relaxed, exactly. But focused.

They weren’t used to her. She knew that.

She was the wrong type of billionaire. The kind who didn’t golf. The kind who read quarterly reports at midnight and refused to pretend she cared about playing nice.

After a pause, the youngest executive spoke. “Your location request. Northern California. That market’s saturated.”

“Not for women’s sports,” Azzi replied. “And not with the way I’ll brand it.”

More notes were scribbled. Pages flipped.

“You understand you’ll be responsible for hiring your own staff. GM. Coaching. Scouting. Facilities.”

She nodded once.

“And you’ll have full authority over your roster, should the board approve your inaugural draft position.”

This time, Azzi didn’t reply. She just tilted her head slightly. Under the table, her phone buzzed once. A message from Nika.

Top prospect in 2025. Bueckers. UConn. Championship run. Wings circling already.

She locked the screen without reacting.

One of the executives leaned back. “This is an aggressive timeline.”

“I don’t need time,” Azzi said calmly. “I need a green light.”

They all looked at each other.

Storrs, Connecticut. January 2024.

The music hit like a pulse—loud, sticky, layered with bass. Bodies moved in waves around the living room, red cups lifted high, sweat clinging to necklines and the collarbones of people who hadn’t felt the October cold in hours.

Paige was in the middle of it.

Couch corner, backward cap, half-finished drink. Her legs draped casually over the side, one arm hooked behind the girl pressed close to her. Brown skin, bright eyes, a messy braid slipping down her shoulder. She laughed at something Paige murmured, then leaned in again.

Paige smiled—half-cocky, half-distracted. She liked the ones who laughed easily. They didn’t ask for much.

She didn’t remember this girl’s name. She wasn’t sure she ever got it.

“You always this smooth?” the girl asked, fingers tracing lazy circles on Paige’s arm.

“I like to keep my stats up,” Paige replied, letting the line sit between them like smoke.

The girl grinned and tilted her head. “You’re bad.”

Paige just raised her cup, took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers. She didn’t need to try. People came to her like gravity. She played the role well—UConn’s golden girl, the smirk, the ease, the streak of charm that made teammates roll their eyes and strangers ask for photos.

Across the room, KK Arnold pushed through the crowd like she had somewhere to be—shoulders squared, mouth moving before she even reached the couch.

“Yo!” she shouted. “Turn that down—hold up, Paige—have you seen this?”

The girl beside Paige pulled back slightly, frowning. Paige didn’t move. Just raised her eyebrows lazily.

“I’m kinda busy, KK.”

“No,” KK insisted, phone shoved halfway into Paige’s face. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

Paige blinked. “This better be more important than whatever this is,” she said, gesturing vaguely at her lap.

KK smirked. “It is.”

She pressed play.

A talking head. ESPN. Something about the league. Something about movement. Paige barely tuned in until she heard the word:

“—expansion.”

That snapped her straight.

She reached for the phone now, sat up slightly. The girl she’d been entertaining gave a small noise of protest and slipped away, sensing the shift in energy.

KK kept talking. “It’s not confirmed, but people are saying it’s happening. West Coast maybe. A new team. Just one.”

“And?” Paige said, watching the loop replay, the headline scroll beneath the anchors.

“And if it happens,” KK’s eyes were shining with excitement, “whoever they are, they’ll get the first pick in 2025.”

Paige leaned back, silent now, eyes on the screen but brain already moving.

She knew what first pick meant.

She knew what she meant.

A slow grin spread across her face, lazy and full of something dangerous.

“Well,” she said, voice smooth, almost a drawl, “guess they better build something worth playing for.”

KK laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige tossed her cup aside, suddenly alive again. “Nah. I’m just real hard to impress.”

She didn’t know yet who was building that team. Didn’t know where they were, or what they were planning.

But she knew how expansion worked.

If they were new, they were going to get first pick.

And if she kept playing like this, there wasn’t going to be much of a debate.

Paige let the thought settle as she sank back onto the couch, the music pulsing again through the floorboards. The party moved around her. Someone passed her a refill. Someone else grabbed her hand to pull her into a photo.

She smiled, easy and practiced.

Whatever came next, she’d be ready for it.

She always was.

Azzi’s condo, San Francisco. February 2024.

The city never fully slept, but her condo above it felt like it did. Clean lines, quiet corners, light reflecting off glass and steel. The only sound was the low buzz of her laptop fan and the occasional shift of the wind against the windows. Azzi had tuned the rest out.

She sat barefoot at her desk, blazer thrown over the back of the chair, sleeves rolled past her elbows. A second espresso sat forgotten beside her—still warm, untouched. The hours had slipped without warning, and she hadn’t moved.

Everything had started simple.

Staff. Infrastructure. Nika had sent over a thick shortlist—coaching leads, analytics experts, trainers, logistics. All color-coded, with bullet-point histories and compensation expectations. Azzi had flagged a few. Deleted one with a note. Started typing thoughts into a shared doc that Nika would read by morning.

That should’ve been the end of her night.

But she had opened another folder. This one labeled Prospects. It wasn’t official. The draft was a year out. Still, Nika had her ear to the ground, and the expected names were already surfacing.

There were plenty of talents.

But only one name was bolded in red.

Paige Bueckers.

Azzi clicked into the file. Then into the links. And suddenly, she wasn’t reviewing a prospect. She was watching.

Highlights first. Just a few. Crisp cuts, quick angles. UConn’s number five coming off a screen and launching a shot so fluid it made time pause. Behind-the-back passes. A stepback three that broke ankles. That same face again and again in the freeze-frames—focused, fierce, almost glowing.

Then came the interviews.

Paige under lights. Paige in locker rooms. Paige on late-night segments, quick with a grin, comfortable in her own skin. Her voice had a cadence Azzi didn’t expect. Confident, but easy. Flirty when she wanted to be, always a little amused with the attention she commanded.

It was sometime after 2 a.m. when Azzi realized she hadn’t blinked in a while.

The tabs were everywhere now—articles, game tape, UConn’s media guide, a podcast, a couple of poorly edited fan videos. One browser was open to Paige’s Instagram. There were more selfies than Azzi expected. More snapshots in hoodies, celebrations, dances, teammates wrapping arms around her shoulders. Her smile was wide in nearly all of them.

There was one video—twenty seconds long—where Paige sat on a locker room bench after a win. Her hair was still damp, socks mismatched. She pointed at the camera, grinning like she knew exactly who was watching.

“Y’all saw that pass, right?” she said. “I’m just saying MVP energy, don’t lie.”

Azzi tilted her head at the screen. Then hit replay.

She didn’t bother counting how many times she watched it.

The city outside had turned ghost-quiet. Her espresso had gone cold. The time in the corner of her screen read 3:42 a.m.

Azzi leaned back, the glow of the screen still lingering behind her eyes. The silence of the condo pressed in, heavy with everything left undone.

This wasn’t about choosing a player. That decision had been obvious.

Now came the hard part.

She had to build something that deserved her.

Not a placeholder roster. Not a name stitched on a jersey. Something real. Cohesive. Ruthless in its intention and sharp enough to match the edge that girl played with.

Paige Bueckers wouldn’t say it out loud, but Azzi had seen it in every clip, every interview, every still image that refused to soften her. Paige would not play just to exist. She would need to win. To lead. To belong without shrinking. Not to mention the insane number of her following and fanbase. Paige also influenced people in a way.

Azzi stood and crossed the room, the city lights curling against the glass. Her reflection was sharp, watching.

She had money. Influence. Time.

What she needed now was vision.

Something Paige would walk into and never want to leave.

And Azzi would build it. Quietly. Precisely.

- Fudd Holdings, New York. March 2024.

The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that followed focus. Sunlight spilled across the long table, where a half-dozen staff from operations and marketing sat poised, eyes forward. At the head stood Azzi, composed in tailored black, with Nika seated beside her. Ines, her ever-efficient assistant, flanked the opposite side. Amari DeBerry, recently appointed head of marketing, sat near the screen, hands clasped, alert.

Azzi’s voice carried with clarity and purpose.

“We’re establishing the franchise in San Francisco,” she said simply. “We’ve secured a long-term venue partnership, and I’ve approved residential development near the arena for housing and accessibility.”

Murmurs of approval passed around the table. Amari nodded once, already scribbling in a notepad.

Azzi tapped the remote and the screen behind her lit up.

“The team name is set. Golden State Valkyries.”

Another murmur. Nika let out a soft, impressed whistle.

“Color palette is royal purple, white, black, and gold.”

That got Nika’s attention. She didn’t speak, not yet, but her brow lifted slightly. Azzi didn’t look at her.

“The branding team will have mockups by Friday,” Azzi continued. “Uniform concepts by next week. I want a balance of power and elegance. Iconography that’s timeless, not trendy.”

The presentation slide shifted, revealing clean logo designs, jersey prototypes, and mock courts painted with deep violet and cold metallics. Strong, elegant. Sharp.

Azzi continued, her gaze unwavering. “The direction is not simply aesthetic. The identity needs to match the face of the franchise.”

She let the silence stretch, let the weight of her next words land with precision.

“We’re drafting Paige Bueckers in 2025. And everything we build starts there.”

The others nodded in agreement, energized, the tension turning to motion.

“She’s a generational player,” Azzi said. “But more than that, she’s marketable. Composed. Smart. Charismatic. We’re not just acquiring talent. We’re setting the tone for who we are.” Azzi answered a few questions here and there as she promised to send a copy of the presentation to each and everyone of them. “We’re moving to the main office in San Francisco by the end of this month. All costs involving the transfer will be compensated and you will all receive an email from Finance and H&R.” Azzi’s tone was firm and final. Then Azzi looked at her Marketing Director. “Amari, I need you to start working on marketing strategies before this year’s WNBA draft. We want to launch the brand and team after the 2024 draft.” Amari gave her a thumbs up before going back to her notepad.

The presentation ended, clean and final. Staff offered quiet acknowledgments before rising and filing out. Nika remained seated. She tilted her head toward the dark screen now dimming in sleep mode.

“Purple?” she said, tone neutral, almost amused.

Azzi didn’t look up. “It photographs well.”

Nika lifted a brow. “So does navy. Or gray.”

Azzi slid her tablet into her bag. “This feels distinct.”

Nika leaned forward just slightly, eyes sharp. “It’s her favorite color.”

Azzi's hand stilled over the zipper. “Is it?”

“So you’re saying...” Nika 's voice was edged with mischief, “it’s just a branding strategy?”

Azzi straightened, cool as ever. “It’s a strong visual.”

Nika gave a soft, knowing smile. “Sure.”

She didn’t press, but she didn’t need to. The implication hung between them—unspoken, but understood.

Somewhere in Florida. April 2024.

The room smelled like last night—cheap beer, perfume, someone else's cigarettes. Paige sat on the edge of the bed, one sock on, shirt in her lap, scrolling through her phone without much urgency. Her head pounded faintly. She didn’t remember the girl's name. She didn’t try.

The first thing that caught her attention wasn’t a text or a missed call.

It was a headline.

Breaking: WNBA Announces New Expansion Team — Golden State Valkyries

She stilled.

Logos, teaser clips, renderings of jerseys, arena mock-ups—her feed was full of it. Posts from ESPN, WNBA, Bleacher Report. Everyone had something to say. Some called it ambitious. Some called it overdue. Everyone agreed it was big.

The name caught her. So did the sharp lines of the branding. There was something bold about it. Fast. Designed to be remembered.

She kept scrolling, half-dressed, only stopping when KK’s name lit up on her screen.

She answered. “What.”

“Girly pop, tell me you’ve seen the news,” KK said, buzzing with energy.

“I’m looking at it now, bruh.”

“That’s it. That’s the team. You’re going there.”

Paige tossed her shirt over her shoulder and reached for her shoes. “That's reach.”

“Come on,” KK said. “They will draft you for sure! You’re the first pick next year. That team’s yours whether you like it or not.”

Paige didn’t say anything for a beat. A few more posts flashed past—video edits already throwing her name into fake Valkyrie graphics. Speculation disguised as fact.

She grabbed her keys off the nightstand and headed for the door. The other girl mumbled something into the pillow. Paige didn’t turn around.

She stepped out into the morning. The season was already over but the future had a shape now.

And it had her full attention.

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