#garden of queue

[flowergardeninthewall]

o7

thank you

[anipgarden]

Some of you may have heard about Monarch butterflies being added to the Threatened species list in the US and be planning to immediately rush out in spring and buy all the milkweed you can manage to do your part and help the species.

And that's fantastic!! Starting a pollinator garden and/or encouraging people and businesses around you to do the same is an excellent way to help not just Monarchs but many other threatened and at-risk pollinator species!

However.

Please please PLEASE do not obtain Tropical Milkweed for this purpose!

Tropical milkweed (Asclepias curassavica)--also commonly known as bloodflower, Mexican butterflyweed, and scarlet milkweed--will likely be the first species of milkweed you find for sale at most nurseries. It'll be fairly cheap, too, and it grows and propagates so easily you'll just want to grab it! But do not do that!

Tropical milkweed can cause a host of issues that can ultimately harm the butterflies you're trying to help, such as--

Harboring a protozoan parasite called OE (which has been linked to lower migration success, reductions in body mass, lifespan, mating success, and flight ability) for long periods of time

Remaining alive for longer periods, encouraging breeding during migration time/overwintering time as well as keeping monarchs in an area until a hard freeze wherein which they die

Actually becoming toxic to monarch caterpillars when exposed to warmer temperatures associated with climate change

However--do not be discouraged!! There are over 100 species of milkweed native to the United States, and plenty of resources on which are native to your state specifically! From there, you can find the nurseries dedicated to selling native milkweeds, or buy/trade for/collect seeds to grow them yourself!!

The world of native milkweeds is vast and enchanting, and I'm sure you'll soon find a favorite species native to your area that suits your growing space! There's tons of amazing options--whether you choose the beautiful pink vanilla-smelling swamp milkweed, the sophisticated redring milkweed, the elusive purple milkweed, the alluring green antelopehorn milkweed, or the charming heartleaf milkweed, or even something I didn't list!

And there's tons of resources and lots of people willing to help you on your native milkweed journey! Like me! Feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any questions!

Just. PLEASE. Leave the tropical milkweed alone. Stay away.

TLDR: Start a pollinator garden to help the monarchs! Just don't plant tropical milkweed. There's hundreds of other milkweeds to grow instead!

[florealegiardini]

This is your sign that Spring is here 🌺🌼🌺 ~ humminglion

[writerpolls]

*In writing terms, an architect is someone who plots out, plans, and outlines things before drafting. A gardener is someone who takes an initial idea and then just writes, seeing how the idea grows without specific plans.

Some people use the terms “plotter” and “pantser” (as in, going by the seat of their pants) for these writing styles, but I prefer architect and gardener.

[solarpunkani]

Listen I’m not saying that *I* have the balls to buy a reflective vest and go off on a roadside or retention pond somewhere and start fucking around guerrilla gardening

But I am saying that the past week I’ve driven past many MANY people in reflective vests either doing roadwork or maintaining roadside shrubbery or whatever and the amount of times I considered questioning what the fuck they were doing is zero and the amount of times I would’ve even had the TIME to question what the fuck they were doing is zero

I saw groups of people I saw someone solo I didn’t question it I just figured ‘eh they’re doing SOMETHING and carried on. Depending on the location you pick, anyone who WOULD Karen up and interrogate you won’t even have the time space or ability to

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂 𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔…

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | 18+ only

tags : kinda pwp (without plot) but like uhhh a poetic version i guess?, like actually don't expect anything super explicit for this askjhgs, more introspective and prose-y (aka less dialogue involved), loosely inspired by "inflorescence imprints" but no direct card spoilers, xavier glows when he's happy (bc this is my new personality and i'm including this in all the xavier fics ever /hj), slow dancing in a field, kisses and making out, wandering hands, heavy petting, oral (f. receiving), semi-public setting (open (empty) field), let's ignore the technicalities of open field shenanigans yes? yes.

wc : ~2k

an : i lied when i said i would get a fic done before april ended, so HAPPY MAY !!! THAT WAS MY LIE IN APRIL hehe <3 bc the title is from 'hikaru nara' aka the first opening song of 'your lie in april' <3 (since i was supposed to post this yesterday when it was Still April…) (but you're with me on the xavmc your lie in april parallels right…)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

In this meadow full of flowers, the two of you are the only ones who exist.

Did you need music to dance?

Your feet touched the grass, light steps gliding to the gentle crunching beneath every little movement. A rhythm, in the silence. Soft, whispered melodies of the night, flown delicately into the passing breeze.

One, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three.

It was easier, this time. You knew this dance. You knew these steps. Three counts in a measure, feet on the ground with every count… practiced movements, now freer, now easier. After all that time you'd spent with him in his living room under the dim lights of his apartment, you'd gotten used to it. One step forward, two steps back—one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three.

And, yet, this time… you didn't need to count, not really.

This was a waltz, yes; this was a dance, yes.

But an open field lay no constraints.

All you'd needed was one phrase of invitation—

Dance with me.

It was your lead, after all.

With a warm hand in yours, the other placed on your waist, expert ease allowed him to keep to the rhythm. He was used to it, far more than you were. The grass didn't deter him, nor the soil beneath your feet. Your arms felt lighter, steps more nimble; a more relaxed atmosphere surrounded the both of you as barefooted steps whirled around in the meadow belonging only to both of you.

And Xavier was always gentle.

Xavier was always patient.

Even now when he smiled at you, even now when he'd adjusted his footing ever so slightly to guide you into the right direction, he would still skillfully guide you to follow him. You'd made a misstep—the first one of the night. An achievement, on your part, for lasting so long without making one. It was enough so to earn a chuckle from him as he drew you in.

"Good," he murmured, quiet like the evening, firm like the stars in the sky that night. "You've gotten better."

Xavier was always gentle. Even in your error, he still quietly nudged you along.

And as moonlight spilled across the open meadow, filtering through his hair, painting silver over the flora surrounding… You didn't need music. You knew that well enough. Your hold on him relaxed, your head dipped down to rest on his shoulder… It was less of a waltz, now, and more of a simple slow dance, but he adjusted. Careful, unhurried. Easy. And, now, it was as if the night itself had paused to watch the two of you.

This was all you could have ever needed.

Every step and every twirl, every movement floating above the field—his hands held you close, securely nestling you into him. He smelled like cinnamon, like warm vanilla. He felt like spring afternoons, like this field of flowers now attuned so specifically to him that you were sure you wouldn't look at another lily without drawing in thoughts of him.

It didn't take you too long to realize that this rhythm you'd been dancing to was entirely his—

You didn't need music; his heart was enough. He was enough.

The clouds, the sky, the grass, the flowers, the dew drops of silvery light from the moon above… all orchestrated like twinkling stars in the night sky, rendered solely to match the beatings of your heart.

That was music enough.

A melody so free-flowing, so smooth, so—

So everything.

So you waited with baited breath, trust in his every move, a melody to the will of its conductor. And your body fell pliant to his hands as he dipped you low against the grass.

Rise, fall; rise, fall.

The dance had ended—

The music had not.

"Xavier," you murmured. You liked the sound of his name—liked the way his lips twitched when you said it, the way the tips of his ears turned the slightest bit of red when your gaze lingered a little longer. "Xavier."

Again.

Cradled gently in his arms, the next measure of the piece had begun anew.

"Xavier."

It was his turn to settle into you, draw you close enough for his forehead to meet your shoulder. His breath proved unsteady, fingers trembling slightly with a single caress down the curve of your spine. Silence gave way to apprehension—yet, sometimes, music would speak for itself.

You let him wander.

Eyes raised to meet yours, blue and bright. This man in your arms, you knew, was yet another star—but one that could have settled in the sky yet chose, instead, to stay here with you.

"Xavier."

Every whisper of his name made him bolder.

Gentlemanly touches turned coy, trails and caresses added a subtle knead against every expanse of skin he could find. And then his hand dipped beneath your skirt—

"Xavier…"

His touch stuttered.

More.

Again you felt him nuzzle into your shoulder, shifting slightly to rest in the crook of your neck. Lips met your skin—a warm welcome against the chill of the evening, soft kisses trailing your nape before he let out a quiet groan.

"You make me so impatient," he whispered. "A star doesn't forget to shine, but, I… think this one… shines even brighter when it's with you…"

Teeth grazed at the base of your neck.

Slowly, you felt yourself falling. Light as a feather, down to a bed of flowers, he caged you between his arms and nudged at your jaw.

"And, you make me feel… free," he groaned. "So much, I… can't…"

Your eyes closed.

You didn't stop him.

It had long since been a symphony of his own making; kisses littered all over your skin like notes on a page as the sleeves of your dress pushed aside and you wouldn't dare keep the music from playing.

"You are my freedom."

He said it in a hushed whisper.

You'd have missed it, almost; drowned in the way he would nip at your skin and then soothe with a lick. But a moment passed as he raised his head to look at you, then. Your skin felt ablaze, eyes easily beginning to fog with a cloud of lust you were familiar with, and…

Closer.

Closer.

There was no need to reply to that.

Unsteady vision focused only on him as he moved in, thumb grazing your lower lip before finally—finally—

He kissed you.

Feather-light, soft. Slow; warm. His hand reached to gently cup your chin and tilt you towards him, and there was no rush. Only the quiet hum of devotion seemed to flow through the way he pressed his lips to yours, over, and over, and over, and over—

You're unreal. You thought it, yet you couldn't speak it.

You're like starlight. He thought it, yet he couldn't speak it.

But you could see it in your peripheral—the glow of the moonlight did nothing to hide the specks of light mixing in with the tufts of his hair; daresay these shined even brighter.

And you knew what that meant.

Xavier glows when he's happy.

And the scent of crushed petals filled the space between the two of you, evening wrapping around you like silk as you fell. Deeper, deeper—kisses gave way to a desire blooming parallel to the blooms that carried you, fingers tangling in each other's hair as you turned and rolled in that little bed of flowers. Down then trailed his kisses, a resumption of his earlier exploration; every kiss and every touch carried with it a whispered promise of devotion.

…Devotion.

You felt your legs part pliantly to the nudging of his hands, and then you felt it again.

Devotion.

How was it that?

He'd find so much freedom in you, and yet worship you with such tender aching that you gasped.

He held you with such love.

Ever slow, and rhythmic, and deliberate—still the symphony moved onwards, with every caress, every trace of his tongue mirroring constellations twinkling above. Your back arched, allowed him to dive into you. You gripped his hair tightly while the other curled into the earth below, and you knew what it was that he truly felt.

He'd been telling the truth.

In the end, never before had you seen him so unbridled in his desire.

Yet, there was something different now—gentle, as always, but… more certain. More sure. As if truly, in loving you, something inside him had unchained. His movements stayed reverent, hands gliding over your skin as if they belonged, kisses deep and intimate and so determined to bring you to your high—

You had been wrong.

This was not a melody that had been orchestrated by him.

Your breath caught in your throat, because it was him. He who gave himself to the rhythm of your very being; he who danced to the tune of what you had commanded.

He would follow you.

He would adjust for you.

Each flick of his tongue against your sex was more than just a vow—it was surrender.

He could speak—I am yours.

And a quiet moan filled the air between you as you writhed beneath his touch, writhed beneath the intensity of his love, the weight with which he had resigned himself to carry for your sake.

"Am I not… your undoing?"

You swallowed thickly as your words spoke out of your moans, and you threaded your fingers through his hair.

"Am I not… selfish?"

No reply.

Stars clouded your eyes—he wouldn't stop.

His mouth latched onto you as his hands roamed your body once more, and he didn't dare to look up to meet your eyes, yet he continued. His tongue thrust inside you, thumb reaching down to circle where you needed him most.

Perhaps the answer to those questions was yes. Perhaps the answer had been one he'd come to accept so long ago. Something so sacred as love, so precious as freedom… so terrifying as sacrifice…

His eyes raised to look at you as you cried out his name, a sputtering chant as you arched into his mouth and the sky above became clearer.

Your thighs trembled. Your breath fell in uneven staccato pants; the music had now begun its diminuendo.

And all of this; all of these feelings, all these values… They'd been given to you by the very man that you loved. You were his freedom, he would say—yet in these words unspoken, you understood. Understood that in giving himself to you completely, then he'd chosen to be bound—Because he wished to be.

You had never meant to own him.

But there was that look on his face.

Xavier's eyes were half-lidded; satisfied— He had poured out everything and anything, all for your sake, and, that look, you—

"I…"

Another swallow, and swift movements pushed him back against the flowers.

"I want… to choose, too," you whispered. "I choose you, too."

Legs drawn on either side of him, you straddled his hips, reaching between you, taking ahold of him.

As the swollen tip brushed against your entrance, your legs quivered.

A smile tugged on your lips as you took note of that little telltale sign of his relief.

Xavier glows when he's happy.

Tentatively, you reached out to sift your hand through the glowing particles of light floating around you.

Ah, Xavier… You'll let me be a little selfish for wanting this… won't you?

You leaned in to kiss him as his hands found your hips, and slowly, slowly, he sank you down onto him. Moans muffled into your kiss, hands cradling his cheeks as you wished, wished, wished that you could mirror the way he had loved you, even as you let him guide your hips to your own undoing both.

If the night doesn't end, then the stars won't leave, will they? you thought.

In that case, then… From a sky filled with wishes, I wish, that… I…

taglist : @hunters-association @pixelcafe-network @darling-dummy-cassandra @daturasflower @valyvinny @jellyroom2 @theanbitchless @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @xai-mery @raiyuxa @~air_heart~ @keymeadoww @rowazuhime15 @nezuswritingdesk @cordidy @spotted-salamander @rafayelsheart @love-and-deepstrays @keioxo @oharasmommymilkers00 @rafayelsgf @pikachuzhc @fackeraccount @iloveboysinred @venussakura @evilgojo @strwbrychffoncke

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[theroyalsandi]

Catherine cemented herself as the last person to always leave. 🤣🤣

[harrisonarchive]

At the Chelsea Flower Show, 1999. Photo by Richard Chambury.

“bluejeanbaby42001 asks: George, you have quite a reputation as a gardener…What are some of your ‘pride & joy’ plants? Love, Dianne george_harrison_live: Well, for the cooler climates (as in England) george_harrison_live: The current trend is definitely toward Miscanthus george_harrison_live: You’ll find many lovely varieties george_harrison_live: try the Zebrensis and also the Malepartis george_harrison_live: However, george_harrison_live: if you’re gardening in the tropics george_harrison_live: I think you’ll find a lovely little ginger called Kahili :P” - Yahoo web chat, February 15, 2001 “One day, for example, we looked out of the window and decided everything in the garden was too green, so we went on a color binge, buying lots of brightly colored flowers. In terms of landscape design, he liked the idea of Capability Brown, so we started calling him Capability George. He thought that everyone, as a matter of course, should have themselves regularly overwhelmed by nature. He used to say that all unused buildings should be knocked down and gardens put in their place.” - Olivia Harrison, Evening Standard, May 12, 2008

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Eastman Johnson (1824-1906) "Gathering Lilies" (1865) Oil on board Located in the National Gallery of Art, Washington DC, United States

[aquamon]

[esiuolll]

THE CUTIE PATOOTIES THEMSELVES FROM @altraviolet FIC

i love posting stupid doodles its my hobby

❤️❤️

[flowergardeninthewall]

Hello! Hola! Bom dia!

Call me Garden. I'm 24, hard of hearing, ace and you can use any pronouns for me.

um vercão de portugês (trabalho de andamento)

Native english speaker, learning BRPT

This blog is for my streamer brainrot. Also a language learning blog.

My main is @teainthedust

-hearing aid refs here

Don't spoil anything I'm watching. I'm serious. No 👀 about anything, you can give context of things I have already seen and behind the scenes things that are non spoiler

How this blog is run and relevant information is under the cut

- Most reblogs are under a queue system. these types of posts will be mostly art and fic.

- Queue is 4 posts a day will occasionally be paused to let the posts refill

- I will post liveblogs, and reactions from streams and vods when I watch them. if you don't want to see that, please block the tags #garden of reactions <- for vods and #garden of liveblogs <- for live stuff. This will mostly be in english.

-I was using tumblr too much so my phone has a two hour timer on the app per day. I am leauges more accessible on discord

- Any tags that I use are on this post, so feel free to click on them and scroll through.

- I do photo editing and vector drawings mostly. Triangles.....

- I natively speak English, and am learning Brazilian Portuguese. I do also know a little Spanish as well.

-I will be spaking Portuguese here it's pratice. Please please please be nice.

-Contrary to what I may complain about I can read portuguese decently well

-eu vou a falar em português aqui. É a prática. Por favor, eu novo no isso, seja legal comigo.

-I have a language learning tag - #garden learns a new language, and a Portuguese pratice tag #garden fala português. Expect me to make a fool out of myself when speaking Portuguese here.

-I do not use machine translations for full sentences. Most of what I say is my own attempts. I only use it for checking my work and to look up specific words

-dont expect me to be perfect. But if I get stuff wrong please don't feel bad about telling me! Just be nice about it.

- There is a lot of difficulty in learning a new language with a hearing disability. I had to go to speach therapy as a child for my deaf accent and stutter, I am fully aware that I will probably never have a good accent when speaking, doesnt mean I try though. Some sounds I physically cannot hear.

- I will not tolerate homophobia, racisim or any sort of xenophobia. If I see it you get blocked.

- Ask box is OPEN I am always down to talk. If you have any questions about hearing aids or HOHness please send them my way! And about languages! I may be newer at them but ive been having a lot of fun!

-Você poderia usar algum idioma em minha caixas de perguntas, se eu não pode leer isso, eu vou descobrir com as ferramentas que tenho!

[anipgarden]

Hot take but HGTV needs more of the G

Like you’re telling me you’re renovating a house, renovating a backyard, and all you can do is mention one (1) of the 12+ plants you’re putting in and be like ‘heehee pretty leaf’ and nothing else?

Give me more gardening on the home and gardening channel dammit

[florealegiardini]

This wisteria drenched Manor House, outside Broadway, is the dream romantic Cotswolds getaway. ~ James Lloyd Cole

Broadway, Cotswolds, Worcestershire, England, United Kingdom

[ask-neontiger]

WE'RE SO FUCKING BACK BABY!!

Did y'all miss me :3c

[solarpunkani]

Late night wishful thinking but like

I think planting funky things around retention ponds should be more normalized!!

Like okay I get it retention ponds are meant to hold the runoff water from parking lots and drive throughs and the like so they aren’t exactly the cleanest water around. But like!!! Maybe this is different in other areas, but the only plants I ever see grow around retention ponds are cattails!! Which, like, are fine and great and dandy lets go cattails, but like

Where’s the whimsy?? Where are the flowers?? If I’ve got to see retention ponds whenever I go to a store or drive down the highway or pick up food for my mom, at least bring in some flowers!!

And it’ll benefit so much! A wider variety of plants can make it a more welcoming home to wildlife! Maybe the plants will filter some of the runoff stuff and the water can then be nicer for even more wildlife! Maybe the flowers can be a nice food source for butterflies and bees on their journeys and day trips!! And humans like seeing things be pretty!

Maybe its easier said than done! Maybe most places already do this and its just my city or state that doesn’t really I’d be willing to believe that! But lets get some color in these goddamn retention ponds!!

Swamp milkweed! Aquatic milkweed! Pickerelweed! Water lilies! Irises! Cardinalflower! Fuck it, put some goddamn duckweed in there!! Get some color in those things or so help me!!