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#He acts like he's grossed out and he gets mad at me for soiling his (dirty) pants and just keeps fucking me and and a. and
brooklynislandgirl · 3 years
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How would your muse react to being handed a baby? {Keni}
Soft, Silent, Sweet || Accepting
 "Wait. W-w-what....what are you doing?"
The young Jedi stands surrounded by a group of village women. All of them seem to be petting and pawing at her. In the fading dusk the blood and filth of battle drying on her face looks like a primitive mask even as cooling breezes begin to tease her hair into ribbons the hue of dark wood flowing down her back after escaping their confining ties. For now her sabre is sheathed though for just a split second it looked like it was going to see further use with the way her fingers flex near its hilt on her belt.  One of the bolder women offers her a gap-toothed smile, and murmurs in the local tongue, too softly to be heard. She takes hold of Melakeni's arms and pulls them away from her body. Into them is deposited an infant. It squirms and squawks. Gurgles spit bubbles on its lips. Keni’s stomach, no bigger than her fist, lurches at the sight. Tries to shrink into itself as much as the rest of her wants the very same. The Force becomes immediately awash with a deeply abiding sense of disgust, a shudder that could potentially if not so thoroughly repressed shake the ground and make the collection of huts around them collapse. This is one of those mammalian things that Keni has never quite gotten her head around. Certainly she has treated younglings by the score in the Temple, every kind of imaginable illness from the contagious poxes to scrapes and bruises and wobbly tummies. Almost to the last they have wanted for a small word of kindness, a kiss on the head. A promise that she can make them well again, but the younglings she treats are capable of speech, of independent thought. She has nothing to do with the creches where those too young to be sorted into clan are kept, tended like plants. Except most plants do not drool and do not defecate in their own clothes. They neither screech nor wail ~at least as far as most sentients are concerned~ with their little faces scrunched up and turning hues. They do not have that indescribable smell like old milk and crusty skin that particularly female humans seem so entranced with. She has often in the past teased Anakin that Zelosian nurseries are full of large jars full of nutrient rich soil and its own little watering apparatus, and sometimes, especially rare children of her species require an aquatic environment. None of that is true. As far as she knows, she doesn't remember that far back, after all, her people are born and raised in the same way. She just has no experience to mark the occasion and she is absolutely certain she'd never made a mess of herself or smelled like that. What's more is she doesn't understand the biological imperative of breeding. Her eyes turn toward Anakin. A human. And he is the depth and breadth of her soul. She has absolutely no doubt that the Force had made them for one another. And Melakeni has dreams. Some of them do involve him and the requisite acts that would be required to produce tiny offspring. All beautiful lines and commingled breath. The feel of his skin burning against her own. Tender kisses and every pleasure that is forbidden to them. Unbidden, others come along with those fever-dreams. She has at least once imagined what one would look like with his hair and long limbs, her eyes and teeth. But that was only once. The reality of it is, even if they were to ever desire such a thing, it would be impossible. They are genetically incompatible, mammalian and viridiphyta respectively. She could never imagine wanting a child of her own, she doesn’t even really want a padawan. And of those children she doesn’t fantasise about, the only possible source for one would be from Anakin. For all that some people might think otherwise, and to no shame, Anakin is not the kind of man who would make for a good father. He would want to be, he would love any child to the very depth of his soul, but therein lies madness. Anyone who has seen him with his droids and his Clones could predict a future where only tragedy could unfold. He would be unable to separate himself from his fears. They would become mania. She has seen what happens when Anakin loves too much. And she knows, much to her own regret, that sometimes, love is not enough. It would kill him as surely as poison. Children are not their future. They will both be content with that.  The infant latches onto her hair and gives it a yank, a hideous little sound coming out of it that she soon enough realises is a laugh. Melakeni flashes Anakin a look that can be felt like direct shot from one of the blaster rifles carried by a nearby handful of Clones who immediately proceed to look away although one looks like he’s overcome with a fit of amusement that his brothers are now trying to save him from. As politely as possible Keni pries the little thing’s fingers apart and rescues herself from the situation. She turns to the translator who accompanied the women and murmurs platitudes. Yes, yes. Adorable child. Many blessings on the family, thank you. Excuse me please. She means none of these things but if she has one ability to surpass all others it is emotional mimicry. She hands the creature back to its parent. Hands come up in a peaceful gesture which she half nods-half bows over. Begins to extricate herself from the group.  The translator asks if they need anything. Keni asks for a tub and as much hot water as the village can muster. They have already been offered food, and a few dozen spare huts at the far edges of the camp. It is all they have to give for their salvation. She tells them that everything is fine, and that they ~Anakin, herself, and their Troops~ will make as little trouble as possible. When they are finally alone, she allows herself to shudder all of her natural revulsion. “The Living Force spare me, it was so gross.” Her face screws up tightly, which pulls the corners of her mouth down, as if she’s having trouble trying not to retch on the spot. “And so...grabby. And squishy. Honestly, Anakin. I’d much prefer dealing with slugs.” There’s meaning in that declaration the likes of which only he can understand. After all, he’s been the one to rescue her from them for years now.  She flings her tunic at him, and lets the rest of her uniform flutter and fall to the ground. She slips over the edge of the wooden tub and sinks into the water, disappearing beneath the surface for a few seconds before rising back up. She can still feel all the infant’s various fluids on her skin. “Next time, you hold the babies and get fondled by the civilians and I’ll stay with the boys.” Anakin laughs and agrees with her before he climbs into the bath opposite of her and she can almost hear his bones shriek in gratitude.
~*~
The twin suns of this dying world bake the sand beneath her boots. There is little shade to be found anywhere and the air feels as if it is scorching her lungs from the inside out. She could never have imagined a time in all of her life where she misses the cold dark of space, nor that she would be counting the seconds before she could return to her ship and erase the memory of sunlight on her skin. She’s done her best to blend in with the locals. To survey her target at every opportunity while remaining out of sight. Until now.
She beckons the boy with a delicate, airy hand. Curiosity draws him near, of course it does. And something she does not possess cracks in her chest leaving a space awash with grief and love and a thousand different yearnings still. Though he’s approaching his tenth Empire Day, he is small for his age. Wind-whipped, carved out by the vast nothingness of his little kingdom. The same suns that sear down have bleached his hair pale gold and in places there are certain cowlicks that will never be tamed, no matter how gentle but unforgiving the hand is that attempts it. His eyes are painfully blue. More so than the sky above them, more than shimmer of sea that does not exist here. The shy grin he offers her harks back to another era that seems like lifetimes ago. If she ever had a doubt, it evaporates here and now. And this is how perhaps the most feared and loved woman in the galaxy comes to kneel before a child. Fixes the boy with a softly-shaped smile, one that hides the fine points of her teeth but that gives warmth to emerald eyes. From some secret pocket, perhaps from the force itself, a gloved hand produces not one but two crystallised honey-sticks, tinted by berries and juices into a chaos of colour. He is cautious. Does not immediately reach for them as one might expect. This pleases her immensely, he has inherited his father’s great wisdom. She continues to hold them out, and inclines her head. Nods a little. He takes them. But then his aunt calls for him, and he looks back toward her over one scrawny shoulder before returning his gaze to his mysterious benefactor. She lifts a finger to her lips.  A secret it is to be. She is gone before Beru comes looking for him.
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jcs-writing-hell · 5 years
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@polskipolikarp
Thanks for requesting!~
You can see it as a scene set in the novel or if you want a moment that won't be tainted from all the needless suffering later on then think of an AU you like. Can be one where NMJ notices all the shit talk towards JGY and he protects him to the point where JGY doesn’t care about taking over the Jin Sect - hence no drama. Or one where JGY maybe joins the Lan Sect - all depends on what you ship, how hard you ship it and so forth!
Jin GuangYao/Lan Xichen
|Category: Funny|Keyword: Cooking|
-
It wasn't long after the Lan Sect got attacked that.. Meng Yao ran into someone he hadn't expected to meet.
Xichen looked.. torn, disheveled almost, barely recognisable with his white robes having quite the few dirt stains. He was so on the edge that he actually pushed Meng Yao up against a tree before taking a closer look at him - sooner or later able to recall that the "boy" was one of Mingjue's.. well, at the time not too trusted but on a good way "guest disciples".
After a lot of back and forth and even more apologising from mostly Xichen's side Meng Yao had somehow managed to get the other to follow him to his home. At the time still Meng Yao wasn't confident enough in his position at the Nie Sect to live with anyone else but servants.. which really came in handy as right now what Xichen needed was a place to hide.
-
Within 3 days only Meng Yao has noticed a few things. 1) Xichen is.. far too pure. 2) Even in normal robes he stands out far too much. 3) While he is the supposed perfect future husband of all the 15-30 year olds.. He doesn't know how to live. He was a nightmare when it came to doing laundry. He wasn't great at making proper deals at the market without being turned into a fool. He didn't have a true self due to the rules he had grown up with. And he also barely.. managed to cook. It wasn't like Xichen didn't know how to - he clearly had the theoretical knowledge, the problem was just that he was clumsy.. He couldn't control his strength overly well, especially the finer the work he was supposed to do was. 4) Surprisingly there is actually no tan-line where the forehead ribbon of the other usually hid his skin. Which Meng Yao got to know since Xichen wouldn't be able to wear it without standing out even more.
It was the first time in his life that Meng Yao struggled so hard with hiding what was going on inside him.. He really had to almost escape at times to let out his laugh, fixing his expression once his fit was over before he returned to the Jade that.. kept messing up and messing up.
Early on during the fourth day already the younger one of them began to notice a change in the others behavior. Xichen was even more careful than usually, yet his expression.. there was something in his eyes that caught Meng Yao’s attention..
However, not even that long after, as Meng Yao arrived while Xichen worked on eggs he seemed to have boiled - one of the few things he wasn’t too bad at, even though it made him feel terrible to kill a possible baby chicken -.. It was all good and fine until Meng Yao spoke up, totally unintentionally startling the new Lan Sect leader.. and of course, what else should’ve happened than Xichen crushing the poor egg in his hand that he clenched from the shock. The still somewhat slimy and gross texture of the egg was getting squeezed out between his fingers.. but what turned into the last nail Meng Yao needed for his coffin was that Xichen’s frustration had build up so much - even though he didn’t dare to curse - he slammed his free hand against his face.. Which was also soiled from the eggs he had previously, successfully, cut for their meal.
Meng Yao tried his best to keep his laughter in.. at first pressing his lips together, then his fist against them as the waves began to grow harder, painfully aching to be let out. When Xichen then finally pulled his hand away, revealing crumbs and fluids of the eggs stuck on his face Meng Yao cupped his mouth with his hand,..
At the end, however, he ultimately lost the fight against the laughter as Xichen looked up at him, this awkward smile playing on the edges of his lips as a few pieces of egg fell out of his face - at that point Meng Yao.. quite literally, lost it.
,,I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..” Meng Yao said over and over again as he laughed so hard his feet soon barely were able to hold him upright. His free arm that he wasn’t hiding his face was getting wrapped around his stomach that ached from all the laughter.
He should’ve noticed that something was off as the Jade only sat there, not saying his usual “It’s alright.” in this gentle and calm tone.. It wasn’t until Meng Yao actually half collapsed to the floor, still unable to calm himself, that.. Xichen did something that would further explain why this time in his life was later classified from both as “The shame of a lifetime”..
The twin Jade’s weren’t called like that without a reason, they weren’t all that different and just like Wangji who bit Wuxian due to being unable to cope with all the emotions that had build up inside of him - Xichen had his own “tick” as he, without realising he actually did so, threw the torn apart egg against the trapped in a fit of laughter Meng Yao.
,,Oh my goodness.. I didn’t mean to..” Xichen spoke up, they had both ended up frozen in place - one as he realised what he had done, the other as the pieces of egg hit him.
,,What am I supposed to do with you now, Zewu-Jun?” Meng Yao said as he once again had started to laugh, the other was meanwhile too shocked from his own actions to-
,,What?!” Xichen said in this confused, startled tone as it sank in that Meng Yao had just returned the favour of throwing the contents of the bowl Xichen had put the already cut eggs in against him. The older one had been too ashamed to notice Meng Yao had even reached out to it.
,,You can’t attack someone and expect them not to react, can you, Sect Leader Lan?” Meng Yao wasn’t quite able to hide his amusement as he tried to speak up all seriously. He knew he shouldn’t behave like that, it was the last thing he was supposed to do but.. it was an accidental slip-up from both sides.
,,One shall not play with their meal..”
,,I apologise for speaking so rudely, but the way you threw the egg at me didn’t seem like it was for entertainment, Sect Leader.” Meng Yao wasn’t sure at this point if he was trying to rub salt into the older ones wound or if he was trying to ressure him, yet for a brief moment he could’ve sworn Xichen glared at him in a warning manner.
,,Are you trying to accuse me of something?”
,,I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re trying to imply, Sect Leader Lan.” Meng Yao feigned ignorance and innocence, somehow.. it was strangely fun to tease Lan Xichen. Someone who had and was everything he wasn’t and probably would never be.
,,Excuse me. I’m afraid I lost sight of my manners for a moment. I will go and wash myself.” Xichen said, his tone a lot more Wangji like and stiff than his usual nice and calm one, as if he was trying to hold himself together.
Meng Yao bowed as he watched the other get up, he could clearly feel that something was off about Lan Xichen. It was one of the skills he had learned due to growing up in a brothel where the moods of customers had to be generally closely looked at for several reasons.
,,Sect leader?”
,,Yes-”
The younger one had stared at the Jades back for a moment as the latter was about to leave - yet at the end, once Xichen turned, Meng Yao threw the contents of another bowl at Xichen. MengYao didn’t dare to be disrespectful, Xichen was the rare case that treated him well regardless of his social standing.. but exactly because of that he couldn’t just watch the other leave and keep whatever was going on to himself.
As the new wave of food hit him something snapped inside Xichen. It hadn’t been too noticeable so far, but his composure was only an act since he had fled from his own home, not knowing if anything of it existed still at this point - His expression grew cold, distanced, gaze as piercing and almost as arrogant as that of his younger brother could easily seem. More than anything, however, he looked mad, no sign of a smile playing on his lips as he grabbed the next best bowl by his side. It was flour, nothing that would hurt. Holding the bowl in his hand, Xichen walked up to Meng Yao, staring into his eyes as he.. poured the flour on his head, the white powder flying around everywhere.
Honestly, for a moment Meng Yao had been kind of scared, he wasn’t truly a coward but it had sank in that he was nothing - a nothing that just threw food at a sect leader for the second time in a row. Noticing that Xichen simply returned the favour, the smaller one of them took a step to the side and made a run for the next best thing he could possibly throw at the other again.
It was unclear how much time they spend running around, yet at the end the kitchen was a total mess, even the hallway of the house they were sharing hadn’t been left clean. They had ended up outside somehow, even throwing raw eggs at one another.
Maybe halfway through Xichens expression had changed, it was the first time that Meng Yao heard the other laugh so wholeheartedly.. and even though he was in no position or rank to do so, he himself couldn’t refrain from laughing either.
As they finally collapsed on the floor, Xichen sitting there with one leg stretched out, the other bend with his arm resting on top, while Meng Yao sat cross legged.. they both looked like a mess. They had attacked one another with anything they got a hold of, including milk and sauce and.. it was the largest amount of food and ingredients either of them had or would ever go on to waste in their lives. While the food war was over already though, their laughter wasn’t. They kept laughing for quite a while, until it gradually grew more silent in between of their heavy breathing before Meng Yao then stopped as Xichen let out a last huff.
,,Thank you.”
The younger ones expression dropped at once, one of the rare times where he didn’t keep up his facade. He looked honestly surprised, almost overwhelmed - and again that mishap happened with Xichen being around, even the cause. Meng Yao couldn’t even respond, he was staring at Xichen who was looking at him with this gentle, caring, thankful gaze.. not even the disheveled hair, or the food stuck to his face, nothing could erase the Jade’s breathtaking effect.
,,Even though I am more than ashamed because of my behavior.. I have never behaved in such a way before, nor will I ever be able to talk about what has happened.. Yet I am.. truly.. thankful. I haven’t been able to calm my mind ever since I left Gusu, without knowing if I will ever be able to return.. but you made me.. relax. It might be overbearing to say so, yet I am certain that you are a person that will go on to do great things.. and one with a good heart. If one day I will get the chance, I will make sure to return all the favours you’ve done for me.”
,,That.. I.. I am really noth-”
,,A-Yao-” Xichen interrupted the other, his tone back to his usual one as he watched Meng Yao’s expression falter. ,,May I call you that way? Even if you may not accept this now, one day?” He added after a short pause, this angelic smile reappearing on his stained face.
,,I will make sure to work hard so one day you may call me this way without bringing shame over you and your sect, Sect Leader Lan!” Meng Yao replied almost in a hurry, he had taken a bit before doing so, bowing at the same time - unable to meet the others gaze.
Xichen’s smile grew a little wider as he nodded, not willing to argue even though he would’ve liked to. ,,Shall we go clean ourselves and wash our robes?”
,,I will wash the robes!”
Xichen chuckled silently, just as amused as ashamed by the fact that he was so bad at washing clothes that the one that rarely to never failed to address him properly did so.
And so they walked off to a river nearby with Xichen making sure his steps would be slower and shorter so Meng Yao could follow him easily - which the other noticed, yet didn’t say anything to.
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yamithediaperdork · 4 years
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Suki’s baby boy
Old ass story i did wayyy back in the day. here’s hoping it aged well XD
“So my super sexy girlfriend, how did your girls take it when you told them you were taking time off to be with a manly stud?” Sokka asked. it was a couple weeks after Aang had defeated the phoinx king, and life was returning back to normal, for the most part. Sokka was standing to become a little full of himself, but other than that, him and Suki were getting along great. “They asked who the stud was.”Suki joked, and then patted his head. “Kidding, but they were a little bit upset that i was taking off again so soon. maybe we should cancel our trip for awhile?” “what? no way! do you know how hard it was to convince Aang to let us borrow Appa?” “well..OK.” Suki said. though really, it had been HER who had convinced Aang, HER who had gotten them the supplies they needed HER who had worked out where they would stay..all Sokka had done was stay where he wanted to go, and whine when she wouldn’t agree to a place. ‘I swear, he’s acting more and more like a little boy every day.’
“We’re going on a trip, we’re not going by ship..it smells like Appa let one rip.” Sokka sang, walking ahead of Suki, carrying his bag of clothes, and leaving her carrying everything else. “Maybe, if your done amazing me with your lyrics..you could help me?” She asked. “what? oh sure. watch out for the root over there..that big rock on your rig-” “I MEANT CARRY SOMETHING!” “geeze, no need to yell. god, don’t tell me it’s your time of the month..” Sokka grumbled, grabbing some more stuff. Suki had been so loaded down that her face had been hidden, but as he took a few things, he saw her angry face, eye twitching. “..You still know how to kill me five different ways before I can fight back don’t you?” He asked in a small voice. “Seven.” was all she said. Sokka was blissfully quiet for the rest of the walk. Soon they came into a clearing, where Appa was waiting, Aang sitting on top and patting his head. “Hey guys!” he called, jumping up and gracefully coming down. “Hey Aang, thanks for letting us borrow Appa again. I don’t think traveling on foot would of agreed with Suki at the moment.” Sokka said. ‘deep breaths, in and out. once your alone you can explain to him how close he is to being dumped..off of Appa..at 100 feet..’ “Why not?” Aang asked. “Her aunt flow is visiting.” Sokka said in a stage whisper. ‘..make that 200 feet..over a pile of nice, sharp rocks.’
Soon everything was loaded and Aang said goodbye, watching the not so happy couple leave. “You’ve been strangely quiet for the past while.” Sokka commented. “look, if you feel bad about snapping at me, it’s OK.” He assured. “..Sokka, you used to have at least a little bit of charm..and you were so sweet.” Suki said, moving in closer to him, and then grabbing his shoulders. “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!” “Uh..” Sokka squeaked, getting shaken. the reins to Appa dropped from his hands and he feebly tried to push her away. “I swear to god, if you don’t stop being such a jerk soon, not only are you not going to have a girlfriend, they’ll never find the body!” She snarled, then pushed herself to the back of Appa’s saddle. Appa gave a loud growl, and Sokka came back up and grabbed the reins, patting Appa’s head. “This is gonna be a long flight buddy.” he muttered.
after not speaking to each other for five hours, they arrived at the first town on their little vacation list. Sokka had picked it, and Suki didn’t bother to remember it as they landed outside of the city. “So, where are we going to keep Appa?” Suki asked. “didn’t you take care of that?” Sokka asked. “..No, I booked our hotel, for three nights like you asked. you said YOU would find a place for Appa.” Suki said. “That doesn’t sound like something I would say.” Sokka said, rubbing his chin. “..For the first time today, I agree with you. Can you handle staying here with Appa while I go and find a barn or something where we can keep him.Can you do that at least?” Suki asked. “I did wanna go and see the weapon collection they have in town...” Sokka started, and then saw Suki’s face. “But yeah I can stay here with Appa my old pal!” He added quickly.
Suki stormed into town, with such a scowl on her face that the guards at the entrance to the town didn’t dare stop her. which was go for them, because she was just itching for a excuse to unleash some heavy violence. It took her nearly 3 hours to find a place willing to house Appa, and she was on her way back to the entrance of the village when a old woman in a shop stand called out to her. “Young lady, why are you so mad? fighting with your man?” The woman asked. “..No, he’s more of a boy.” Suki said, coming over. hell, her feet ached and she smelled like a stable after walking around all this time, let Sokka wait on her. “Let me guess, was once a charming young man, but now acts like a soiled brat?” The woman asked smiling. “..Yeah. thats kind of creepy,, how did you-” ‘It’s the way with most boys who try to be men. what you need to do young lady, is take the wind out of his sails..and I have just the tonic for it.” ‘should of figured..’ Suki thought, thinking about taking off while the woman look somewhere under her counter. “Ah! have him drink this, and I promise you he’ll stop trying to act like a big shot.” the woman promised. “..how much?” Suki asked. her coin purse was running a little dry, she hadn’t thought to bring much coin in with her. “For a young lady like you? It’s free.” the woman said, putting a small bottle in Suki’s hand. “just don’t go taking off right away..I’m sure you’ll be wanting more advice from me.” The woman said with a smile. “..this isn’t going to poison him is it? Cause he’s a dick and everything but i don’t really wanna kill him.” Suki said. “Poison?!” the woman asked, eyes going wide. “Ohhh, because I made that comment..heh..No dear. it will have a effect on him, but he will not die. I give you my word, and Madam Koza’s words is her bond!” as the old lady promised, her hand went over her heart, and she held a hand in the air. “well..OK. “ Suki said.
“What took so long? I sooo hungry!” Sokka whined, laying on Appa’s back. the grass that had been around Appa was all chewed up, in fact the big guy was still munching out. “Sorry, the only place willing to take him was on the other side of town. But I did stop off and get you something.” Suki was all smiles, as she took out the small bottle, and tossed it up to Sokka who caught it. “what’s this?” He asked, making a funny face. Suki climbed up onto Appa’s back, and moved into position to take the reins. “It’s a love drug. you take it now, and when we..you know..later..” Suki said, looking back and winking. the effect on Sokka was instant, as he tented his pants and took the stopper out of the bottle, and slugged it back. “I thought we weren’t gonna..ya know..cause of you..” Sokka started. “I’m not having my peri-” “Ew ew, don’t say it like that!” Sokka interrupted, coving his ears. Suki raised a eyebrow, he had been making references to it all day. “Alright, I’m not having aunt fl-” “Gross!” he whined, putting his fingers into his ears. “..I’m fine. it’s not that. I was just in a bad mood thats all.” she said. As Appa took off, Sokka calmed down and nodded, then looked over the edge and scream, crawling to the center of the saddle. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, giving him a funny look. “W-We’re up t-too high..” He whimpered. “..Really? You’ve been hanging upside down from a zeplin and not been worried about the height before! not to mention how often you’ve flown on Appa!” Suki snickered. “D-Don’t laugh..I-I don’t know why..It’s just scary OK?” He whimpered. She was going to laugh again, but looked back, and saw that he was curled up in a ball, and shaking. ‘why the hell did I just give him!?’ she thought wildly. ‘what did that old lady say..he’d stop trying to act like a manly man..and  what else..I mean..he’s acting like a..little...kid. ah crap.’
Part of her warrior training had seen Suki study many, many poisons and other drugs that were used in the world, and she knew of one plant, that when boiled in hot water for long enough, had the ability to mentally regress a person. the plant though was suppose to be wiped out. A servant girl had used it on a warlord, and when he had recovered he had killed the girl and ordered all of the plants destroyed.
“Calm down Sokka, we’re almost at the stable OK?” Suki said in a nice calm voice. Her mind was spinning, the old texts she had read had dosage  levels compared to a persons weight.. At Sokka’s weight, with how much was in that vial.. She paused and did the mental math, and cursed softly as they landed in front of the stable. “Sokka, we’re on the ground OK? Do you need help getting down?” Suki asked softly. getting up and walking back towards him. He shook his head no, and slowly got up, now blushing bright red. “I-I don’t know what that was all about..I’m sorry.” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “..it’s OK” Suki said. She chose not to mention the small damp stain on the front of his pants, and instead hoped down to meet to stable master. “So this is a sky bison eh? should be interesting to look after eh?” The old timer said, smiling and showing all four of his teeth. His breath was rank and Suki just smiled and did her best not to breath any of the stink in. “whats up with your fellow there eh?” He asked, pointing behind her. Suki turned around, finding Sokka trying to carry as much as he could. ‘like a little boy trying to impress a girl..’ she thought with a smile. “What’s wrong with him carrying everything?” she asked. “I wasn’t talking about that eh, I was talking about how he pissed his pants eh.” the old man snickered. “He didn’t piss himself, he spilled a drink on himself. and I’ll ask you to please not go around pointing out other peoples flaws.” Suki said. her voice was low and full of menace, and with her back to Sokka, she crackled her knuckles. “Understand..eh?” she asked.
“That guy was awfully nice to give you half of your money back.” Sokka said. He was carrying his fair share of the gear this time, Though Suki had had to fight with him to let her carry any..even when it weighed him down so much he couldn’t even crawl.. ‘crawl..Oh Sokka..I’m so sorry..’ she thought. “Anyways, thanks for pointing out that wet spot, I can’t belive I wasted that much of that potion you gave me on my pants.” He giggled. “Yeah well, It’s OK. I’m sure you drank enough.” Suki said. God, she felt so guilty..how was she going to break it to Sokka? “Which street do we take now?” Sokka asked, stopping at a four way. Suki watched him trying to read the signs, and hoped she was wrong. maybe the dosage hadn’t been that high, and he had only wet a little because he was scared. “Huh..thats weird. I thought their signs were in English here.” Sokka said. He had the cutest little confused look on his face, and was scratching the top of his head, looking this way and that. “I know how to read the sighs.” Suki lied. “I’ll guide us. but before we go to the hotel, why don’t we go take a look around the market. I saw a stand before that I wanna go and check out.” ‘If that old bat doesn’t have a cure for him, I’m turning her over to the guards! those potions are illegal!’
It was harder than she thought to get back to Koza’s stand, not because she couldn’t recall the way, but because Sokka had to stop and look at every weapon, every toy, just about everything. She should of known better really, than to bring him in this state with her. he didn’t have the greatest attention span at the best of times, and with a little kids mind set it was even worse. But she didn’t dare leave him by himself. already he’d almost freaked out, when he thought he had lost her. she had only gone across the street to buy them some apples, and she came back to find him looking scared and teary eyed. Now she couldn’t get him to let go of her hand even her life depended on it, which was luckily seen as a sign they were lovers..till people got closer and saw and heard how Sokka was acting. After he had whined and begged to try out a new kind of gimmick toy, the merchant selling it had asked her in a whisper if she was looking after someone ill in the head. ‘great. he’s thinking like a 5 year old if i’m lucky, and the merchants think he’s retarded. can this day get any fecking worse?’ Suki thought. She was currently dragging Sokka along, he was whining he wanted to go back to the cake shop, since Suki hadn’t let him get a cookie. “I have my own money, way can’t I get one!” He whined. just when she thought he couldn’t make this any worse, he went limp on her, and just stayed on the ground. “Sokka, get up.” Suki whispered, looking around as a crowd was starting to gather. “want cookie.” He said, crossing his arms. “Sokka, for the love of god, get up now!” Suki hissed. “your causing a scene!” Great, she could heard the people now..comments were being made about the poor girl dealing with the retarded boy. “Sokka, if you get up and come with me strait to the booth i wanna go to, We will go back to that shop, and i won’t get you a cookie, I’ll buy you a entire cake just for yourself!” She hated having to resort to bribing him, but it seemed to work. though he had a little kids mind, Sokka was still a fairly able young man, and he rocked onto his shoulders, then nipped up onto his feet. “A whole cake? You got a deal!” he yelled. more laughter from the crowd, which he seemed to be noticing for the first time, and he turned to them. “what are you laughing at?” He asked. “Yeah, what are you laughing at?” Suki asked. if they truly believed he was handicapped, maybe they would have the good taste to point out something else, or just go away.. “ah.nothing son..it was just a funny sound a cat made.” A young man said. the crowd muttered they’re agreement, and slowly drifted away. “Thank you.” Suki mouthed to the man. he gave them a thumbs up, and Sokka returned it with a grin.
“he was nice.” Sokka said. he was smiling and still holding Suki’s hand, though he was moving his back and forth, making her swing hers. “Yeah.” “I wonder what the cat did that was so funny.” Sokka wondered. “..He might of farted.” Suki said with a grin. Sokka giggled. “eww, your so gross!” As they came up to where the booth was, Suki’s heart sank..the booth was gone! “excuse me.” she asked, getting the attention of anther merchant. “But the old lady who had a booth there..” “Oh, she’s gone home for the day.She’s actually quite the power house, says it’s one of her tonics. she’ll be back in a day or so. she doesn’t work everyday, says she needs time to make more tonics.” “Ah. Well, if you see her, can you pass a message on for me?” Suki asked, digging into her coin purse. Sokka was getting fidgety, and Suki knew she didn’t have much time left before she’d know if this was as young as he was going to get. “sure.” the merchant said, eyeing her coin purse. “Let me pay, a gentleman has to treat a lady.” Sokka said, blushing bright red and reaching into his coin purse, pulling out six coins, twice as much as Suki would of paid. “Tell her that the young lady she gave her word to, need her help. badly.” Suki said. Merchant nodded, and pocketed the coins. “And If I meet her here, and find out you’ve made no effort to give our message, I’ll expect those coins back.” Suki added.
“It’s just for a little bit, I need to pick up some things, and as you can see, he slows me down a little bit.” Suki said to the owner of the cake shop. “I dunno..” The woman said, stoking her chin. “He’ll be eating the cake in here anyways. if he wants anything else, let him have it, and I’ll settle up after.” Suki said. “alright, deal. but you explain it to him. I’ve seen your idiot boy causing trouble all over the market today. Suki bit back her reply to Sokka being called that. It really wasn’t his fault, it was hers! Instead, she walked over to the table where Sokka was sitting, and she was carrying the cake she had promised him. “Sokka, before I give you your cake..” she started. “uh-huh?” he asked, drooling. She set the cake down on the table “Are you going to be OK here by yourself for a little bit? I need to go pick up some girl things, and I don’t wanna gross you out again.” Suki lied. “Oh..well um..” Sokka looked around, and then motioned for her to come in closer. “what if bad guys come and try and take me away?” he whispered. ‘so cute!’ Suki thought, biting her lip to stop for laughing. “The nice lady who runs this place is going to be looking out for you OK? She’ll make sure you stay safe. now if you want a drink or something, AFTER you finish your cake, you can go ahead and get it.” Suki said. As she talked, she leaned down and slowly snaked her hand around, and removed Sokka’s coin purse, and turned to leave. “Heyyy! wheres my goodbye kiss?” he whined. “..and why do you have my money?” “..if you don’t have any money, bad guys are way less likely to come after you.” She lied, figuring if she left him alone with it, someone would scam him out of it before she got back. “Now be a good boy.” she said, and leaned in and kissed his cheek. “And I’ll see you soon OK?” He giggled and blushed at the kiss, and then shyly moved forward and gave her a little peck on the cheek too. “Kay. don’t be too long Kay?” He said. “I won’t be longer than it takes.” she promised.
It wasn’t as hard as she thought to find the stall she needed. With their being a good chance Sokka’s mind set was going to regress even more soon, she knew she needed certain supplies. from what she could recall about the poison, you never truly entered infancy again, but you did amazingly simple minded, and lose all control..down there, as well as moter skills. “Ten thick cloth diapers, two pairs of plastic pants, four safety pins and a jar of ointment please.” Suki asked the merchant behind the incontinence  booth. “Size and gender?” the man asked. “Male, and um..about my size I guess..never measured him.” She said, blushing. the man gave her a odd look, then bent down and took out the supplies she asked for. “..You know unless you’re washing these everyday, you’re going to need more than ten.” He said. “washing..them..” Suki made a face. She hadn’t even thought about that..her plan was to get him diapered, and wait till Koza showed up so she could fix him. she was just going to toss the used diapers. then again..she had about a day and a half, to two days to wait..better safe than sorry. “Toss in anther six. and do you have some sort of bag I can put this all in?” She asked.
Suki came back to find Sokka laying back in his chair, half the cake gone and a pile of glasses around him. his belly looked like it was bugling underneath his shirts and he had a drool line coming down from his mouth. “How was he?” Suki asked the shop owner. “He was well behaved. stayed there and pigged himself out on that cake. ordered some milk. you owe me 4 coins for the milk.” “Whats in the bags? did you get me a present?” Sokka asked, spotting the building paper sack bags, walking over. “Nothing for you, not yet.” Suki said, slamming 4 coins down on the counter. “Why don’t you go get your cake and wrap it up to bring back with us?” She asked. “..I get to take the cake WITH me?” He asked, grinning. “Well, I can’t take a half eaten one back.” The shop owner said. “Bring it over and i’ll wrap it for you kid. free of change.” The shop owner said. she added the free of cost thing, as she saw Suki about to ask. “Sounds like you warmed up to him.” Suki said. “Well, for a handicapped young man, he is rather cute.” “..Well, I’m not setting him up on any dates.” Suki said.
“So did you have fun?” Suki asked. they were on they’re way to the hotel now to check in. and for Suki, she had plans of getting Sokka into pampers as soon as possible. she was already noticing that he was stumbling around a little. as if the act of walking was getting too hard for him. ‘this isn’t fair. he’s young and fit..funny and smart..’ Suki thought mournfully. Though deep down inside, for all the of the headaches she was getting from dealing with him like this she had to admit she kinda sorta just maybe found a childish Sokka...cute. Then again it really shouldn’t surprised Suki that maybe she liked a childish Sokka. she had been drawn to him for his charms sure, but she also liked having a Boyfriend that she knew would need her to look after him. She had expected him to take a little more care of himself and her than he had, hence why the tension as of late. not to mention the period jokes which had gotten old. fast. “Yeah. Some boys came in and were starting to poke fun but ling kicked them out.” Sokka said. “Ling?” “That was her name. the cake shop girl.” He said. he jerked his thumb back in her direction and turned his head back. then proceed to trip and fall flat on his face getting some laughs from a nearby group of children. “Sokka! are you OK?” Suki asked. she rushed over and helped Sokka to his feet, and noticed how not only were tears welling up in his eyes, but there was a fresh wet spot on his pants again. “T-That..”He sniffled a little. Suki could tell he was trying to hold the fit that wanted to explode out of him in. “That hurt.” he finished, and tears leaked down the side of his face. Suki heard a soft hiss, but a short one, and anther wet spot joined the first one on his pants. “Sokka, we need to get you inside.” Suki said urgently. He sniffled again and nodded, but now the school kids were noting the wet spots and turning and pointing. “haha! that big kid pissed himself!” “some big kid. I bet you thats his mommy!” “S-Shut up!” Sokka yelled at the kids. Not thinking, he ran over, tears freely flowing from his eye now and shoved one of the kids making fun of him over. of course, while his mind was getting younger, Sokka was still a fit young man, and then kid went over like nothing and started to bawl. “Sokka, we have to go..NOW!” Suki said, panic building in her voice. she looked pass Sokka where what she assumed was a teacher was taking notice of one of her students being assaulted. Sokka thought Suki was mad at HIM and started to bawl himself. ‘This is JUST what I needed..’ Suki thought. She grabbed Sokka by the back of his shirt and yanked him to his feet, then gave him a kiss on the lips. “I’ll give you anther one if you can catch me!” She said. She then took off running and was praying Sokka would follow her. he did and though they got some stairs, she managed to get him back to their hotel without cause too much more trouble.
Suki waited by the door as Sokka came running in, about 10 seconds become her, huffing and puffing, but then grinned seeing her and poked her arm. “Caughtttt youuu!’ He said with a big grin. Suki was thankful that no one besides the clerk was downstairs at the moment and smiled and kissed Soka’s cheek. “That you did. now let’s get up into our room ok?” “kay!’ He said and smiled. the smile faded from his face as they walked in and he noted the two beds. “Heyyyyy, I thought we were going to share a bed!” He huffed, and crossed his arms. Suki sweat dropped. “Well, we might, but only if your a good boy OK?” “...Well OK.” He said. He gave a soft huff and stomped over towards his bed and was about to sit down on it in his soggy pants on the bed when suki eeped and moved over, grabbing him. “Now what!?” he whined and gave her a cross look. ‘jezze, someone needs a nap.” Suki thought dryly. “Sokka..your a little bit wet in the pants right now..we should get you changed before you sit on the bed.” Suki said. “you ARE mad that i wet myself!’ he yelled and pulled away from her, storming for the bathroom. “I’ll show you, i’ma big boy and i can make it to da potty any time I want!’ He said, thumping his chest then slamming the bathroom door. “5..4..3..2..1..” Suki counted down, rolling her eyes. “Suuuuki? can you come in and help me get my pants off?” Came the sheepish voice of Sokka. “i’ll be right in.” Suki called, but grabbed a few things..
When suki came into the bathroom, she had to put a hand over her face you cover the smile. Sokka was doing a fratic potty dance in front of the toliet and we fumbling with the latch on his pants. “Gottta poooop!” he whined, a hand on his butt. “Ok ok, calm down and hold still!” Suki said. She walked over to sokka and firmly took hold of his hips and then undid the latch on his soaked pants letting them plop to the floor. 'he’s not wearing underwear!’ suki thought going red faced as he flopped loose and free. Sokka however wasn’t paying attention to her or his underwear and just plopped down on the toilet and started to go. “awwww..see? told you I can use da potty!’ He said. he was smiling and beaming, kicking his legs ideally while on the throne. “You sure did.” Suki said humoring the poor boy. she took his soaked pants from around his ankles and set it in the tub..figuring she’d have one of the water benders working here fill her tub in a bit.
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vantaestummy · 5 years
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Would you be able to write one where Jungkook doesn't eat all day because he's busy and he doesn't even realize because he's not that hungry so by the end of the day his stomach finally rumbles and he realizes he hasn't eaten so he decides to eat a meal before bed but then he wakes up puking everything up onto his blankets and he has to go get one of the members because he's scared and sleepy and he feels gross. Thank you so much.
A/N: okee! enjoy! another collab with my amazing friend @p3merge please show them all the love in the world!
TW/// emeto
WORD COUNT: 4635
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Jungkook didn’t realize he hadn’t eaten anything until it was far too late.
The boys’ schedules had been packed to the brim, no time to do anything else besides eat (something Jungkook forgot to do), sleep, and maybe use the restroom. Jungkook isn’t too bothered by it. He’s thankful. They’ve worked so hard to get to where they are today, being asked to perform on the top television shows and late night specials. He feels very blessed for all of these opportunities, and with their booming success in America, Jungkook couldn’t have been happier.
But he’s hungry, and he’s a growing boy. He needs to eat.
Jungkook groans as his stomach growls loudly, breaking the silence of the room. His eyes flick over to his roommate to see if Taehyung was still asleep. Thankfully he was. Jungkook sat up and stretched before standing up from the creaky bed. His vision is swimmy, his stomach gurgling in protest as it begs for food. Jungkook grips the side of the bed to keep his balance. “I gotta eat something.” He mumbles to himself just before regaining his balance. He tiptoes out of his and Taehyung’s shared room, heading towards the kitchen.
Jungkook sleuths around the kitchen, cornering the counter and slinking over to the refrigerator and the cabinets, filtering through all of the snacks he can find. He makes himself a quick bowl of ramen, reheating the beef from dinner the other night. He knows how late it is, and he knows that his body doesn’t do well with late night snacks, but he can’t go a whole day without eating a single thing. He stomach turns just thinking about it, the hunger pains so strong that Jungkook becomes lightheaded as he stirs up his food, the tantalizing smell making his stomach growl even louder.
Jungkook’s mouth watered as he finally sat down at the table. He brings his chopsticks clamped full of ramen to his lips and blew gently. He slurps up the entire bowl in less than five minutes, eating at such a rapid pace. His body begs for nourishment and his stomach aches with hunger. Once he is finished, Jungkook leans against the back of his chair to catch his breath. The food sits heavy in his stomach, his belly tingling with warmth as he slumps in his seat. His hunger is sated, that’s for sure, but there’s an odd sensation that comes with the satisfaction of finally having eaten for the first time in 24 hours.
Jungkook stands from his chair with a sigh, his metal chopsticks clinking in the empty bowl as he makes to dump it in the sink. He groans, quickly washing the dish as his brain slowly succumbs to the aching exhaustion in his bones once more.
Jungkook stifles a hiccup as he rubs his tight, rounded tummy. He manages to sneak back into bed. He lies down, grimacing as his tummy begins to gurgle and groan with digestion. Another belch crawls up his throat and he quickly smothers his face into his pillow to let it out as quietly as he can. A tiny lick of nausea tickles the back of his throat, catching him by surprise. He probably just ate too fast and now his digestive system is taking the brunt of it.
Jungkook moans, thinking that since he ate for the first time that day, his body wouldn’t be too bothered by the fact that it was at such a late hour. It didn’t make any sense. How could his stomach want food, but repel it all at the same time?
The swollen organ that he has cradled in his hands is a bit achey and throbbing with a slight pain that makes Jungkook toss and turn beneath the sheets, however it isn’t strong enough to keep him awake.
The maknae closes his eyes, allowing slumber to hold him tight in its clutches as he falls to sleep.
Two hours later Jungkook’s eyes snap open as he bolts upright. His stomach was at war with his dinner. It aches and churns, gurgling angrily at the fact that the maknae stuffed himself for nearly having starved for 24 hours. The pressure is just too much and Jungkook barely had any time to register what was going on before he was puking all over his sheets and blankets. He hiccups, fighting against a gag but losing out in the end. He pukes again, swaying a bit on the bed. “Hyung….” He gags and belches up another mouthful of sick.
It was never Jungkook’s intention to wake up his roommate, however he is delirious with sleep, vomit jetting from his lips and coating the sheets that drown him with its warm acidity. His stomach is pulsing with agony and his throat is stinging through the onslaught of bile.
Taehyung is a mere few feet away, stirring in his sheets as he groans, blinking sleep and crud out of his eyes.
“G-Ggukie?”
Jungkook can’t even answer as more vomit sprays from his lips. “Ggukie!” Taehyung exclaims as he springs to his bed to access the situation. His breath caught in his throat as he saw his best friend violently ill, along with the mess on the bed. “It’s ok love. J-just get it all up.” He gently rubs at Jungkook’s back, blindly reaching for a trash can.
Taehyung manages to grab ahold of it in just enough time to place beneath Jungkook’s chin, before another thick stream of bile pours from his lips, filling the bin with its horrid and chunky contents. Jungkook braces a hand on Taehyung’s arm, panting heavily as he guzzles in as much air as he can.
“Hyung… my stomach…” Jungkook groans. Taehyung places a hand against the maknae’s back, rubbing calm patterns in his back as he places light kisses against the nape of his sweat-soaked neck.
“What did you eat Kookie?” Taehyung asked as he gently rubbed soothing circles in Jungkook’s back. “Ramen….” He burped loudly. “Scuse me.” He mumbles, his cheeks painted red with embarrassment.
Taehyung sighs, seeing Jungkook in such a broken and pained state making his own stomach swirl in demise. “Bunny… you know that eating late upsets your stomach.”
Jungkook groans, a hand palming his tummy softly as he spits in the bin, trying to rid his mouth of the rancid taste. “I… I was hungry…”
Taehyung’s head tilts in curiosity, the look of shame upon the maknae’s face more than suspicious. “Why were you hungry? Didn’t you eat dinner?”
Jungkook sighs with a shake of his head. “No….I hadn’t eaten all day. I’ve never felt so hungry.” Tears ran down his face in shame. His stomach gurgled as he groaned. Taehyung helps Jungkook up before placing him on his own bed so he can clean up the mess.
Taehyung rids the bed of its soiled sheets, dumping them into the wash basin and making his way to his closet. He pulls out a hoodie, as well as a clean pair of sweats that are baggy and lose, so that Jungkook feels no unnecessary pressure against his swollen gut. Jungkook sits off to the side, sensing the air of disappointment that Taehyung seems to radiate. He feels so guilty for making his hyung clean up after him but, he feels like if he moves even for a second, more food will find its way to the floor.
“Hyungie…” Jungkook nearly cries, a hand cradling his stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“How can you go all day without eating Jungkook?” Taehyung asked as he shook his head and handed his Kookie a change of clothes.
Jungkook swallows thickly, still wincing at the taste in his mouth, as well as the remnants of the curdling in his gut. “I know… I’m sorry Tae-hyung.”
Taehyung sighs with a roll of his eyes, truly angry at the fact that Jungkook continues to stress the fact that he is an adult, but refuses to act like one.
“Jungkook that is not healthy. Do you know what we did all day? We had rehearsal, worked in the studio, did the skype interview, and you didn’t find any time at all to eat? That’s irresponsible!”
Jungkook sniffles, the pain he’s feeling now overshadowed by the guilt caused by Taehyung’s scolding. Taehyung is only about three years older than him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s right.
A tear slips from Jungkook’s eye, the maknae wiping it away furiously with the back of his hand. “Tae-hyung I said I’m sorry.”
“Bunny. That’s not healthy. You could have passed out during dance practice and really hurt yourself. Remember when you got a concussion? That’s why I’m mad. Because you didn’t take care of yourself like you’re supposed to.” He sat next to Jungkook before gently rubbing his bloated, sick tummy. “I’m sorry I was harsh but, I love you that’s why I'm so upset, because I want you to be safe.” He continued to rub Jungkook’s tummy as it voiced its unhappiness. “Jeez, your stomach is really loud huh.” He jokes, his heart breaking when Kookie looks up at him with a pout and puppy eyes.
“It still hurts a little…” Jungkook mumbles. Taehyung is a bit taken aback by how adorable Jungkook looks, despite not feeling well. Taehyung’s cards a warm hand through the boys long, lusciously dark locks.
“Let’s get you into some clean clothes. We’ll change the sheets and then we can sleep, okay bunny?”
Jungkook nods, sighing deeply as his nausea seems to subside, despite the fact that his stomach is still a bit bothered. “Okay.”
Once Jungkook changes into the fresh clothes that Taehyung had set out for him, the maknae helps Taehyung to change the sheets of the bed, finally feeling useful and not so helpless. Taehyung appreciates the effort, making to kiss his head every time they pass one another to pull the comforter down.
The two get into bed, Taehyung accepting the silent and yet, sad pleading look from Jungkook. It was clear that the maknae didn’t want to sleep alone.
So Taehyung didn’t let him.
The two slip beneath the covers, Taehyung holding Jungkook tight in his arms. The next day or rather, for the next few weeks, Taehyung makes sure Jungkook eats everything off of his entire plate, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
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A/N: i’m collabing with some awesome people y’all. more to come soon! ❤︎ thank you again to @p3merge
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anniemar · 6 years
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Vikings 5x11 (The Revelation)
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I had a lot of fun recapping the first half of season 5 so I figured I’d take a stab at 5B, even though I really hate this whole split season thing. Considering it’s been a year since 5A. But whatever. It makes about as much sense as this show. As always, these recaps come with a hefty dose of hyperbole. I’m not out to offend anyone, I know we all have our favorites, and you’re more than welcome to disagree with me, but these are just my opinions. I might make fun of these characters and the show, but hey, I’m here watching. I obviously watch for a reason, because I’m a fan dammit. I love the characters, sometimes. They fade in and out of favor for me. Ivar was once my dude, and he still kinda is, but I’m not an apologist when he does fucked up shit. And so let’s just jump into some of that fucked up shit, shall we? Or piss, rather ... 
The Saga of King Ivar begins with him peeing on the throne. Gross, dude. And then putting a poor goat on top of it. I’m really not into animal cruelty, plus he called the goat “the queen” ... do you mean Lagertha, Ivar? Or are you a goat-fucker now? I would’t be surprised tbh. The whole thing just reeked of a middle-ages fraternity-rager. Not a fun party. 
Harald is sad about his wife, unborn child, and his bro. Ivar tells him to cheer up, there’s plenty of fish in the sea ... and he’s not exactly sentimental about brothers, so it’s not a great pep talk. I’m thinking Harald, when he sobers up and looks around a little, is gonna be like ... 
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Later Ivar notices Freydis, who’s been hanging around and staring at him. And all of us at home are like, yeah, we kinda get it. He’s real cute. 
Except he’s also batshit crazy and a brat, so there’s that. He invites her in and BOY DOES HIS ANGRY TUNE CHANGE when she’s around. He becomes a loose-lipped puppy dog, it’s adorkable. He also asks if she’s married (real subtle there, Ivar) and she’s like, nah ... I like being free, I like living alone. No men. AND I AM HONESTLY SO DOWN WITH FREYDIS HERE. 
Until two seconds later when she spouts that “you’re so special ... I’d die for you” bullshit she was spouting from last season, er I mean ... first half of the same season. Whatever. 
Seriously, what is she playing at? The logical part if me is thinking ... she must have some ulterior motive, she can’t be just some Ivar groupie, can she? But then I remember this is the show Vikings, where people’s motivations never make a whole hell of a lot of sense, especially women’s. But I digress. 
Ivar laps up what she’s serving and then she asks what she can do for him ... and he gives her that grinch smile ... fade to black. And I mean, come on. We all know what happens next week. The Ivar fandom has been dreading it for over a year now. Ivar the boneless is gonna find out he’s not so boneless, and that Margrethe made him think the opposite. I wonder how he’ll take that bit of news considering she happens to be back in town.  
Welcome back Uncle Daddy Rollo. I love Rollo and his crooked smile, always have, no matter how much of a fuck-up he is. His mind and heart always warring with each other. I suppose he reminded me of (Marvel) Loki when I first started watching Vikings. And Ragnar was (Marvel) Thor. 
Though I guess you can’t really call him a fuck-up considering his vast wealth in Francia or the fact that his descendants will turn the tide in England in good ole 1066. In this way he has most certainly beaten Ragnar. But in his homeland? He just goes about shit in the wrong way. And ends up losing, if not the battle, then definitely his heart. 
I suppose his motive was to help Ivar and Hvitserk so that Lagertha and Bjorn would have no other choice but to join him in Francia, but that was a HELL of a gamble. Seems as though he’d have been held in much better regard if he’d helped out his “son” and the “woman he loves” by backing them, but NOPE. He steps foot on Scandinavian soil and all of a sudden he’s that guy living in his brother’s shadow again and makes all the wrong decisions. And thus he sails away from Kattegat, perhaps for the last time, thinking ... 
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Though I did enjoy him playing Ivar like a damn fiddle the entire time. And for that Rollo, I salute you. And I hope to see you again. 
Vikings on the run + Heahmund. Margrethe is chained up with a pig for company, because she’s gone mad apparently. I’m just not into this at all. Why not just leave her in Kattegat? I’ve never had love for the character but come on. Hasn’t she suffered enough? Through bad writing and terrible acting? I guess not. 
And so Lagertha, who has two men pledge their love to her this episode (and making a lot of Gisla/Rollo fans even more bitter, and justifiably so) ... now has really weird hair, and the makeup team isn’t covering up her under-eye circles. Also, whatever, I get that they’re trying to make her look aged, but at most she looks to be 40 and still gorgeous. 
Bjorn emotes. Ubbe ... exists. And Heahmund tries to convince Lagertha that he’s loyal and wants her, even though he can’t publicly acknowledge her in England, being a bishop and all. So romantic. 
They get the hell out before Ivar can catch them, leaving Margrethe to him. Hvitserk then carries her off in his arms after they get back to Kattegat, and something tells me somewhere, this whole situation is gonna make good ole Hvitserk be like ... 
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Spanglo-Saxons. I’m still loving Alfred and can’t wait to see who Judith sets him up with. Hell, I’m even cool with Aethered. For now. It seems like we have a king with intelligence and then a prince who is the muscle. But something tells me it just can’t stay that way ... 
In the last shot we see Heahmund riding back with Althelred, apparently to make an appeal to the new king to welcome his friends. As Lagertha and Bjorn leave their cage-covered wagon, you can just see it written all over their faces ... 
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Maybe a life in Francia with everything one could want wasn’t such a bad idea after all? 
Meanwhile in Floki-land. I DON’T CARE. Seriously. Get Aud and the famous wrestler off that island and back to Kattegat where they can at least be somewhat useful. I really like Aud as a character, but the whole Iceland storyline is so boring. Let Floki go somewhere else, like a robot island off the coast of China. Let him discover that. 
Anyway. Did I like the episode? I did, honestly. It was good to see these guys again, especially Rollo. It was a decent season opener ... er ... i mean, second-half of the season opener. 
Until next week ... 
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jflashandclash · 6 years
Text
Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun
Twenty-Three: Thalia
Rabbits with Ratbbitude
             Axel must have lost his mind. And not in the “a god drove me mad and now I’m trying to kill my loved ones” kind of way. In the “I finally cracked and see the white rabbit” kind of way.
           At least, that was the only conclusion Thalia could come to when Axel started berating the rabbit she and Reyna caught.
           Fortunately, they found a rabbit quickly after leaving Axel and Calex to their heart-to-heart. This must have been a gift from Tyche, since Thalia didn’t want to stray too far from the river and the boys, and she also didn’t want to walk in awkward silence near Reyna for too long.
           After a tree branch caught Reyna’s breastplate and made a sound worthy of a horror movie, Thalia had Argentum and Reyna fan out to the side, to scare animals towards Thalia instead of away. After all, praetorian armor and shiny dogs weren’t exactly designed for stealth. They had more of the “look at me; I’m important” ring to them.
           They weren’t gone for long before the praetor and hound helped corner a rabbit straight into Thalia’s net.
           “Not bad for a praetor.” Thalia grinned. Reyna might need some stealth work to become a huntress—if she’d ever have interest—but definitely not bad. When Thalia thought of how easy Reyna had escaped Thalia and the huntresses’ confines before, Thalia should have expected no less.
           Argentum held his head high with pride, his tail darting back in forth happily. Thalia wondered how often Reyna’s guard dogs got to hunt and whether or not Reyna would want to set up a doggy play date with the wolf pack. Although Thalia knew Reyna did the whole bath house things with her female comrades, she felt like Reyna didn’t spend nearly enough time with the girls.
           As they walked back, no longer having the hunt as an excuse for silence, Thalia debated on all the questions she wanted to ask Reyna. Things still felt kind of weird with the whole Axel-threatening-her-with-Mayan-love-poetry-thing. (Axel was SO weird.) But she got the vibe Reyna didn’t care, didn’t feel threatened, or was amused by the whole thing.
           If anyone was acting awkward, Thalia figured it was her; despite the love potion, Thalia felt guilty having thoughts about any boy, never mind it being Axel. With Euna, Thalia hadn’t known if there might have been a loophole in her huntress vows, but the Boys Have Cooties Rule was pretty well established.
           Which bought Thalia to the things she was really worried about: one boy in particular and her huntresses.
           “How were the huntresses before you left? And how was the camp?” Thalia asked. “Eminent destruction still on hold for the day?”
           With all the time Thalia spent on the hunt, Jason often, shamefully, slipped her mind. With everything that happened between Axel and Pax, she was passively worried about him. He was powerful, but she didn’t want a god taking her little brother from her again. Er—he was her big brother now, right? Being a huntress was confusing and made aging stupid. Major downside to immortality: no more birthday parties.
           Thalia also felt guilty for encouraging two huntresses to leave their pursuit of the Teusmessian fox against Artemis’ direct order to continue, and Artemis wasn’t always known as a forgiving goddess. Thalia wondered if Artemis and her sisters were still locked in a challenge they could never win, like catching the Energizer bunny.
           “Lesedi and Christiana were still scouting for the camp when I left. No contact from the gods, as support or enemies, other than the ‘near-Death’ experience that Calex had.” Reyna shuddered and Thalia thought about what it must have been like for Calex to race Death. While they had been going through the jungle, the Brit had been double checking everyone else’s movements, like he was scared they were going to grade his forest-traversing skills on grace and coolness. Despite his insecurities, she had to give him some kudos for racing death and winning. Grace and coolness points earned regardless of jungle-traversing skills.
           “That rabbit looks… strange,” Reyna said, changing the subject and making Thalia wonder if Reyna was also nervous thinking about her own troops in the upper world.
           Once the rabbit froze up in Thalia’s net, she stopped paying it much attention. Thalia held her net up to peer at the tiny mammal in the turquoise lighting.
           He was a cute little thing. For some reason, she strongly felt it a “he.” His ears were long, twice as long as the average rabbit in the United States, except maybe the jackrabbits Thalia had hunted in the desert. His fur was the color of the desert, a light brown. Admittedly, Thalia—in her years as a huntress—had never seen a rabbit look so annoyed and put upon. This rabbit combined both expressions flawlessly. It was like Nico in tiny rabbit form.
           Then she noticed the weird thing: this rabbit had a long, curled-up tail, like that of a chinchilla.
           “I really hope this is a rabbit,” Thalia grumbled, lowering her net so she could more easily dodge around hanging vines and would-be snakes.
           “How do you think this rabbit is going to get us across the river?” Reyna asked.
           Thalia rolled her eyes. “Like I have any idea what Cat Breath is thinking. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with instructions. He didn’t even specify dead or alive.”
           “One is slightly more amendable than the other,” Reyna muttered. She used her spear to push away a snake dangling in Thalia’s path.
           Thalia really didn’t want this quest to go from “hunt the rabbit” to “rabbit resurrection,” so she had to agree. “We should name him,” Thalia said, carefully hopping over a tree root that poked up from the soil.
           Argentum made a soft clang when he jumped to the other side alongside his owner.
           “He doesn’t look like a Cottontail,” Reyna snorted at the rabbit’s long appendage.
           “What about Bugs?” Thalia said. The sound of the blood river was getting closer. They would meet up with the boys soon. She held her net up again to see if the rabbit reacted to the name.
           He glared at her apathetically.
           “And what are you going to do if Axel needs to kill Bugs?” Reyna asked, the humor thinly veiled in her voice.
           Although Thalia had hunted down and killed plenty of animals, beasts, and monsters during her time as a huntress, these wide, black, vaguely irritated eyes suddenly felt a bit too personable, like he was a little punk rabbit. Thalia heard stories of the augury readings at Camp Jupiter, where they sacrificed stuffed animals for various ceremonies.
           With her spare hand, she made a tiny spark. “He can try.”
           They laughed as the forest broke to reveal the shoreline, where Axel and Calex were still seated.
           “Axel,” Thalia held up their catch, “You can’t hurt Mr. Bugs.”
           For a moment, no one moved but the dogs. Aurum sat up, alert, then rose to join Argentum at Reyna’s side. From the way Axel’s jaguar ears were flattened into his hairline, and the way Calex smirked, Thalia got the impression that Axel just shushed Calex. Ugh, boys, Thalia thought.
           Axel closed his eyes and exhaled. His ears twitched up, seeming to contradict the forlorn expression. “Thalia… I’m sorry.”
           The mire in Thalia’s chest died. “What?” She held Bugs up higher and realized, with horror, what he was talking about.
           “I’m going to have to cut out and eat his heart,” Axel said.
           Calex’s jaw dropped. “Are you bloody serious?”[1]
           Queasiness overtook Thalia. Had Axel eaten rabbit hearts before? Had she given someone mouth-to-mouth that had eaten a raw bunny heart before?!
           “Gross!” she said. Thalia glanced to Reyna, to see if Reyna would support finding another way across the river and, maybe, sympathize over her mortification of exchanging saliva with this guy.
           Reyna’s face was twisted up, like she could barely repress a laugh.
           Axel’s serious face cracked into a smile.
           “Augh.” Thalia rolled her eyes. “Could you at least pretend at something less gross next time?”
           Axel rose. He dusted the dirt off his leather pteruges and the pants under and then stood straight. He coughed into the back of his hand. “Thalia, let me see Bugs.”
           Calex stood up beside him, picking his golden bow up from the ground. He reached up, like he wanted to grab the black scarf he usually wore around his neck, only to remember he’d put it in his bag, since it was way too hot down here for winter wear. “Mate, you’re not actually going to eat his heart, right?”
           Axel tried to give Calex a blank stare, but couldn’t quite manage to repress his smile. “Give me the rabbit.” He walked over to remove Bugs from the net.
           That was when he held the rabbit at eye level by the scruff of its neck.
           And shouted at it.
           Everyone jumped. Aurum and Argentum growled. Without realizing it, the four of them had been speaking hushed voices, only slightly raised to keep over the slurp of the river. Axel’s yell was so unexpected and loud, Thalia feared whatever monsters lived here—or those Lords of Xibalba—would show up to complain about noise code violations.[2]
           He didn’t stop. In some staccato, foreign tongue, he snapped at the rabbit.
           The rabbit, if possible, looked more annoyed.
           “Axel, what the Hades?!” Thalia said.
           “You’re giving away our position to anyone within this underworld and the next three over!” Reyna snarled.
           Axel waved them off with his free hand without breaking eye contact with the rabbit.
           Calex blinked in confusion. “Axel, have you gone mental? I don’t think the hare cares. Leti antal t’u’ul—”[3]
           “You can understand him?” Reyna asked.
           Calex’s confusion turned towards them. “Of course—Right.” He seemed to realize Thalia and Reyna were in the dark about his I apparently speak obscure languages thing. “Yea, ‘love speaks all languages.’ It’s an Eros thing. He’s repeating himself a lot. Let’s have a look see…”
           Axel hadn’t paused in ridiculing this poor bunny, and Thalia had a suspicion he might bore the tiny thing to death. If pushed, it might break and jump for the blood river. Maybe that was Axel’s plan: to force autosacrifice the way teachers induced sleep during horrible lectures.
           “Uh, he started something with… giving this rabbit lots of titles. They’re a bit posh. ‘Father of all Hares,’ ‘Child of None,’ and the likes. Then something about, ‘To you, one who stole my father’s boat, one who stole my uncle’s boat, thief of my family’s property,’ and ‘then, you shall undo it therefore, it shall be returned again,’ else…”
           Calex tilted his ear to the side, and began to translate, at almost the same time Axel was moving his lips to shout,
           “’I will pull it,
           I will rip it off,
           The way our fathers did before me,
           And their grandfathers before them,
           Ending the tail of the taleless rabbit,
           Beginning the tale of the tailless rabbit.’”
           Thalia’s head spun at that last verse. This reminded her of stories about the sphinx, though she heard they had upgraded from riddles to pop quizzes.
           The rabbit rolled its eyes. “Okay, fine. Would you just stop? No one has talked like that for, like, a thousand years,” the rabbit said.
           “Okay, fine. Would you just stop—” Calex started to repeat.
           “The rabbit spoke in English,” Reyna told Calex, her eyes wide.
           Axel and Calex seemed as shocked that the rabbit spoke in English as Thalia and Reyna were that it spoke at all.
           All of them stared at the fluffy bunny.
           Thalia had met plenty of talking monsters, though, she suddenly realized, very few talking animals. Thalia wasn’t ready for her little Bugs to speak and braced for a, “What’s up, doc?”
           Its accent was a bit too Hispanic to pull the typical Bugs Bunny voice, though she assumed there was some Spanish Looney Tunes voiceover.
           “You’re not supposed to be able to speak,” Axel said, “Your flesh was condemned to be devoured and homes be left to wander, thus spat by the Framer and the Shaper, by She Who Has Borne Children and He Who Has Begotten Sons, because you could not worship them with words.”
           Thalia glanced over to Calex, who shrugged. “No idea.”
           “Holy K’an Ti! Do people still address the creators like that?” the rabbit asked. “We other animals may not be as longwinded as man, air bag, but we got words.”[4]
           “Santiago and Frasco’s boat…?” Axel growled. “The boat—”
           The rabbit shuddered. “Please, just don’t start talking with repetition again. I’d rather you rip off my tail. I’ll get Frasco and Santiago’s boat. I’ll talk to my friends for help. Augh, you sound like my great-times-one-thousand grandpa. Now, let me go.”
           Axel glared, then gently set the rabbit down.
           Bugs shook himself out, used his back leg to itch behind his ear, then examined Axel. “What jackass told you to address us like that anyway?”
           Axel’s entire body tensed. Thalia had taken more notice of his muscles at Lemnos Resort than she was willing to admit, and she was happy he hadn’t done that motion while they were under the love potion. His knuckles went white around his sword hilt.
           “The boat,” Reyna reminded the tiny rabbit.
           Bugs snorted and hopped off into the jungle, this time along the shoreline.
           Aurum and Argentum watched his movement like they were barely resisting another hunt.
           Reyna made a whistling noise, and they dematerialized. Thalia really needed to ask what happened when they did that. Did Reyna carry a spare Pokeball around that none of them had noticed?
           “So,” Thalia said, “Your family has a boat.” Although watching the rabbit berate Axel was fun, she was mad. “You couldn’t just tell us that we were crossing on a boat, instead of freaking us all out like a jerk?”
           Axel’s muscles slowly relaxed. He released his sword hilt and raised an eyebrow at Thalia. “Huntress, if I’d have told you I needed you to catch a rabbit with a tail, so I could yell at him until he fetched my uncle and Santiago’s boat, when all of you already think I’m lost geographically and losing my mind, how would you have reacted?”
           Thalia crossed her arms. Earlier, she’d removed her parka and stuffed it into her backpack, so she could feel the cool touch of her Aegis bracelet. “I would have caught the rabbit.” That previous urge to hit him across that dumb goatee returned.[5]
           “Lieutenant,” Reyna said.
           Calex stared at her.
           Thalia didn’t realize until then that her fingers had sparked.
           Calex cleared his throat. “Right. So, chatting with rabbits..? How did you learn to chat with a rabbit like some old chap? That uh, family business? Typical Pax tradition?” He sounded eager to avoid a fight.
           Axel tilted his head towards Thalia in confusion, like he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong.
           In Thalia’s rulebook, openness with the team and trust were necessities. Although Luke would have never wanted to worry Annabeth or the others at Camp Half-Blood, Thalia often wondered if things would have been different if he’d voice his opinions more openly, if he could have gotten help.
           They needed to get across the river and work as a team to get to Euna, but Thalia sparked her fingers one last time, for good measure and to remind Axel she was here to keep him in line.
           “Axel,” Calex said.
           Axel sighed and nodded to Thalia. “I underestimated you, huntress, and for that I am sorry.”
           “The rabbit is right,” Thalia said, almost more annoyed he apologized, “You speak like the representative of an ancient geriatrics ward.”
           Reyna choked on a laugh. Calex let his escape.
           Axel sighed and shook his head, smiling softly.
           He turned to Calex before remembering that Calex’s question had also revolved around how he couldn’t talk like a person from the 20th or 21st century. Thinking that meant a lot from Thalia: some of the girls she hung out with referred to Jesus as “that youthful upstart.”
           “Uncle Frasco told me to talk to the rabbits like that if I ever ended up in Xibalba,” Axel said. His lip twitched, like he couldn’t decide to smile or frown. “He was kind of like… a more willful Ajax—”
           “So willing to jeopardize people’s lives for a practical joke,” Calex said.
           Axel decided on a cross between the two expressions: a sad smile. “Still pranking me from the afterlife.”  
           Reyna took a step forward to touch Axel’s shoulder.
           Without looking at Reyna (or, if Thalia had to guess, thinking through any consequences) he slipped a hand up to enlace their fingers.
           “Hey, praetor, huntress.”
           Reyna almost kicked the rabbit that seemed to materialize at her feet. Reyna and Axel released their hands to go for their weapons.
           Bugs itched behind his ear with his foot, careless of his potential incoming obliteration. “Come on. We got his boat ready for you.”
           Reyna and Thalia exchanged a look.
           “For us?” Reyna asked.
           Like Hades Thalia was hopping onto some ancient Mayan boat to cross a river of blood without their guide.
           “I mean, Prince Longwinded and the Yoruba pup can come along, but you two are the ones who captured me. It could have saved you a mouthful and me a headache if you would have just asked for the boat instead of Prince Longwinded.”
           Calex grinned. “Cat Breath, Prince Longwinded. You’re acquiring quite the list of titles, mate.”
           Axel sighed. His smile turned crooked as he bowed to Thalia and Reyna and swept a hand towards the shoreline. “Ladies first.”
           Thalia rolled her eyes. Reyna snorted. They took the lead after the rabbit, Calex and Axel keeping their eye out for attacks from behind.[6]
           Bugs hopped into the jungle bordering the river. His path paralleled the banks from the safety of the canopy. Thalia had seen other animals do this: a safer way for typical prey to travel.
           “So you’re trying to get to Tartarus,” Bugs said as he hopped along. With the way he faced away from them and the slurping din of the river, his voice sounded small.
           Thalia frowned, trying to remember if she and Reyna had discussed Tartarus around the rabbit.
           Reyna resumed using her spear to push extra foliage and vines out of the way. “You were following us before we captured you,” she guessed.
           “The forest has ears,” he said. “I’m getting the boat to shut up Prince Longwinded—”
           Axel grunted behind them. Thalia almost hoped he’d speak up in protest and further prove Bugs’ point.
           “But, you never asked anything in return for releasing me and christening me with the name, ‘Bugs.’”
           “You’re keeping the name?” Reyna asked in surprise. She shoved some wisps of stray, black hair out of her face. Sweat stuck the pieces she missed to her cheek. She must have been boiling in her praetorian cloak.
           The rabbit paused to glance back at them with what Thalia could swear was an incredulous look.  “Of course,” he said. “How am I supposed to know what to be called if I’ve never been named?”
           “The longer we stay here,” Calex muttered from behind, likely to Axel. “The more you and that dodgy prick of a brother make sense.”
           Ahead, Thalia could see something long, narrow, and colorful through the trees. There was movement around it, and the closer they got, Thalia could make out four deer. Their fur was a chestnut brown-red, except for a grayish portion near the heads. Their front legs looked shorter than the typical deer Thalia had hunted in North America or Artemis’ sacred stag. The single stag present had horns that protruded backwards, like a gazelle’s, instead of branching out into a network, like an elaborate keyholder.
           Similar to the rabbit, Thalia blinked to realize these deer had long, red tails that curled into a question mark behind them.
           Thalia clenched her bow, wondering if Calex was doing the same. Yes, these were just deer, but deer could trample an unwary hunter, and maybe Xibalba deer liked to nibble on trespassing demigod flesh to prepare for winter. This could have been a trap. How would that look on a gravestone: death by startled deer.
           “Free advice in exchange for releasing me,” the rabbit said, “Different underworlds often exist in one place at one time. It can just depend on who is guiding you as to what the underworld looks like, and how you make it from one underworld to another.”
           As they got closer, Thalia thought she could hear a conversation happening ahead. When Reyna’s armor clanked softly, the conversation abruptly halted. The deer all froze, staring directly at them.
           For a disorienting moment, Thalia had to wonder if all animals could talk, including animals in the upstairs world, and if their feigned silence was the best orchestrated hoax of the mythological world.
           Bugs didn’t mind the deer’s attention. He continued hopping forward. “You will not make it across the Red River. No one has. The Lords of Xibalba don’t make it so easy to dodge the Houses of Torment. The Pax princes before Prince Longwinded, they didn’t make it across. Just ask Lord Santiago how he hurt his leg.”
           Thalia could hear Axel puff up his cheeks and pop them. One more piece of information to beat out of Axel later.
           “You’re close to the heart of Xibalba, which means you’re close to the heart of Tartarus. If you want to get to Tartarus, you need to be the one that takes charge.”[7] Bugs’ ears twitched towards Thalia.
           The deer bolted further down the shoreline.
           “Why me?” Thalia asked, wiping some sweat off her brow. She was glad they weren’t going to be lunch for a pack of ravenous deer.
           “The Mayan prince can get you there, assuming everything goes right. But, if he panics, his homeland will grab him and hold him here, as he will be fighting against his nature to leave this place. I’m unsure the Yoruba pup has an afterlife or how strongly the Orisha would pull him. Praetor, you have a similar chance to the Yoruba pup, since I don’t know if you have any remnant connection to Coaybay and the op’a from your Taino descent.”[8]
           Thalia glanced to Reyna. The praetor looked as confused as she felt.
           She could hear Calex gulp behind them.
           “You, huntress, are almost full Greek. If you come to a place of in-betweens, a place where the worlds converge, and you take the lead, you will naturally find your way home,” he said.
           “To Tartarus,” Thalia corrected, uncomfortable with the assertion that Greek Hell was home. If she was about to come upon some new property, she would need to do some major redecorating.
           “Whatever,” the rabbit said, hopping through the break in the trees onto the bank.
           The long, narrow object the deer had clustered around was a canoe. It must have been carved from one tree, as there were no seam lines signifying separate pieces of wood.  Along the exterior, there were colorful depictions of warriors and animals dancing. The bottom, unfortunately, was stained with blood.  Here and there, jade, obsidian, and pearl were imbedded into the decorations. There were perfectly four paddles waiting to be used.
           “She’s beautiful,” Axel muttered.
           When Thalia glanced back, she saw Axel’s expression had gone slack. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them wistfully. For some reason, the reaction gave her the uncomfortable feeling that their guide had never been here before.
           A rabbit giving directions and a guide who had never been to the place they were leading them through. Great, Thalia thought.
           “Yea, your dad and uncle put a lot of hard work into carving and painting this thing. Why do you think we had to steal it from them?” Bugs asked. He stopped hopping beside the boat, and sniffed the exterior.
           Axel scowled.             “Rabbit, I was only half-joking about eating your heart.”
           “Yea, yea. I heard your friends. They don’t have the gut for you to do it. Yellow-livered colonizers.”[9]
           “Are you complaining that our presence is keeping you alive?” Calex asked.
           The rabbit didn’t respond to him. Bugs turned and hopped back towards the jungle, like something had spooked him. “Just uh, when you fall in, don’t drown.”
 Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy and I hope you have an awesome New Year’s Eve!
 Footnotes:
[1] I resisted ALL the jokes I could have made with the Britishism. It was difficult…. But I persevered. Though Calex is mad they need to cross that bloody river.
[2] Little does Thalia know, this is what happens in the real Popol Vuh.
[3] Yea, the grammar is awful in this one, and I really need to actually sit down and study again, but it is supposed to say, “He’s a rabbit.”
[4] “If we couldn’t talk, then the louse couldn’t have delivered a message to Hunahpu and Xbalanque from their chiich.” “Who?” “Eh, you’ll read about it in Jack’s stand alone novel. Don’t worry. It’ll be a lot less confusing when you get the whole story.”
[5] Get in line, Thalia.
[6] Between his years of crushing on Reyna and his recent interest in Thalia, I think it dangerous to expect Axel to focus on their surroundings if he’s bringing up the rear.
[7] Mel’s betacomment: “Wait… is the underworld… racist?”
Jack: huh…. Apparently? XD
[8] Because our lovely lady is from Puerto Rico.
[9] What’s something that Romans, Greeks, and Brits all have in common? XD
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Leo Manfred: Green Witch
So continuing on with my magic headcanons in a sci-fi video games, a weird few headcanons came in the form of Leo Manfred. For purposes of this AU, he is not a complete wreck. Without much ado, let’s go!
Leo always had a green thumb. Magic has always had the tendency of presenting young. He’s found out he likes playing mud and gardening ever since he was introduced in the great outdoors. 
Even if the great painter Carl Manfred is recognised as his dad, he feels like Carl doesn’t acknowledge as his dad. He retreats himself to his plats, talking to them like people. 
This of course concerns his mother who tries her best. She pushes him to get friends. They’re pretty cool and all to Leo but he likes plants more. 
Leo meets a woman at the local gardening store for his seventh birthday to pick up a new plant. It’s the first time he feels connected to someone. He can smell rich pine and the clean air of the forest around her. 
The woman leaves her card for him to contact. Blaire, botanist, environmentalist, and, apparently, green witch.
Blaire and Leo’s mom become fast friends and eventually girlfriends. It works out in the end because Leo now has a green witch in the house that can guide him. 
Because Leo has stable parental figures in his life, Carl’s absence doesn’t affect him as much as it does in canon. So he’s more emotionally mature. (Still an idiot sometimes, but everybody is an idiot sometimes)
Leo, because he’s a green witch, cares very much for the environment. Which  is why he doesn’t appreciate the progressions of technology harming the environment and recycles appropriately. 
Leo’s ten when he loses his sight. It’s a mishap at a swimming pool on a school excursion. Only a few were harmed but Leo was blinded. He’s had some surgery (paid generously by daddy dearest who is never there) so he can perceive some light but his optical nerves were seriously damaged. 
Learning how to cope with being blind is fun (unless you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic here). Leo’s hooked up with a braille tutor, has to change his entire lifestyle and has to be that extra touch careful. 
But strangely he can talk to plants in a way. The green witch in him can use plants as a sort of radar to help him walk around. Leo retreats even further into gardening.
It’s not a good idea to bother the blind kid who happens to be a witch. His classmates didn’t know about the witch part though. Attitudes to the supernatural range from fearful to downright snide by the mundane. A few kids thought it’d be funny to steal his lunch and play piggy in the middle with it. 
Unlucky for them, Leo was resting against an old oak tree, slowly dying because the polluted soil it was planted on. The tree roots lurch, rising up as if it was starting to move and the branch slither around. It’s only meant to scare and it does, leaving the kids running for the hills. 
Leo goes back to reading his book, (printed in braille)
It’s around when he’s sixteen that he enters his ‘punk’ faze. It’s not really a punk faze. He just starts listening to a lot of angry music, gets taken to underground concerts by friends that are both human and magical.
When Leo enters college, that’s when Leo starts making bad decisions. Namely, drugs. 
College is the phase where you start experimenting and, hey, since everybody was getting doped up, why couldn’t Leo? He could do everything they could do. 
Cocaine, red ice, meth, cannabis, he does it all. But thanks to his weird witch biology, he always detoxes and the high never lasts. But being good at gardening, he starts growing a few illicit plants. 
In his second year, he creates a prototype of a new drug that’s like red ice. It affects supernatural creatures more than humans. A few of his ‘friends’ want to refine the substance and promise to give Leo a cut of the profits if he gives them the formula. 
And hey, it’s money, why not? (Leo, you stupid idiot.)
Leo is a common sight at environment sort of protests and has at some point used his powers to attack development projects. The police never find out it’s him doing that, since there are so many other people and Leo can get lost in a crowd. Also Leo is not above pulling the blind card. 
Meetings with his father are always stilted and awkward. It’s enough for Leo to get an impression that his dad is disappointed in him. Carl knows about the whole witch thing but he’s never taken magic seriously since it’s not common anymore and more of a fairy tale these days. 
Kamski on the other hand is very interested in the witch thing. It’s not his first brush with the supernatural. In fact, he has a half-brother that’s a werewolf (*cough, cough* Gavin *cough, cough*). But Leo is not a big fan of what Kamski represents which is further destruction of the environment with the development of androids and harvesting of thirium so half the time he crosses Kamski, he’s either picking a fight or ignoring him. 
Remember the stupid drug deal Leo made a few points back? It comes back to haunt him. 
His friends want a new formula with a little ‘added insurance’.
Carl doesn’t enjoy the same protection given to Leo’s mother from the supernautral and is basically a sitting duck. So a few guys break into his mansion, hold him hostage and wait for Leo to come back.
During this time, Carl is severely roughed up to the point his spine is damaged. 
When Leo comes back, he is pissed. You see, Carl has plants in every room and they tend to react to Leo’s mood. So when he’s pissed, the plants are influence by his rogue power breaking free of their constraints and growing monstrous in form, wrapping around the intruders in vines. 
Leo is this close to killing them when his father calls out for help. Leo does what he can to stabilise the damage done to his father, using what little healing magic he knows to reduce the swelling and directing his father’s cells on where they need to go, all the while rapidly muttering sorry’s, please forgive me’s over and over again.
Leo’s case is taken up by the Pa.In Bureau (short for Paranormal Investigation Bureau, because the guys who founded it thought it’d be funny to call the overarching law enforcement agency for the paranormal ‘pain’.)
Leo’s facing 7 years in Drakennoff for environmental terrorism, gross misuse of supernatural powers and creating and distributing unregulated magical substances. Leo manages to get a reduced sentence in a deal where he gave names and information and handed over his illegally acquired funds. 
His parents, all 3 of them, are not happy. Leo knows this. He knows he did a stupid thing that ended up seriously hurting a lot of people including his father. So Leo does the grown up thing and face the consequences. 
Leo does go to jail for 2 years before released out. 
Carl has been through the motions, coming to terms with his paraplegia, depression and anger at his son. He and Leo don’t talk anymore. 
Leo’s moms are mad. They understand that yes Leo has screwed up and wants to make up for it but goddammit they taught him the difference between right and wrong and he did something massively wrong! But they do try and make it work. 
The supernatural community is usually cool with ex-cons and criminals. They’re a pretty underground society with most of them having done something wrong in their lives. Meaning, it’s not hard for blind guy Leo with a prior for drugs to get a job. 
Leo actually changes his name after he gets out of prison. This is more for security so nothing is traced back to his family. He changes it to Leon Adair, not much of an extreme change but it’s there. 
He manages to get a job at an apothecary/cafe that caters to the supernatural and human. (The humans that end up are hipsters and health nuts). Leo is an unofficial doctors, specialising in blends, tisanes, poisons and, of course, plants. 
Some people do ask how he’s able to do what he does being blind. Leo says it’s years of practice and plants. 
Leo lives on the other side of Detroit, far, far, far from Carl Manfred and he figures he’ll never see him again like this. Well, hear him, since Leo can’t really do the seeing part well. 
He meets Markus by total accident. Leo is on the way to work and since the Bellini Paint Markus usually goes to is out of commission for remodelling, he had to go to the other branch store which is near why Leo works. 
Long story short, Markus is stopped by some anti-android protesters and is getting roughed by. He is that close to deviating when Leo steps in. Leo has no idea about Markus, All he knows is somebody is beating up an android and they’re in the way, he needs to get to work and get started working on the blends or otherwise he’ll be so overworked, he’ll cause an accident.  
So he pretends to be the struggling blind person who’s lost and they can’t find their helper android who he pretends is Markus. And these protesters, they’re not that much of an asshole (at least some of them) and let them through with apologies for causing trouble. 
“Thank you,” Markus says. 
“Shut the fuck up. You reek of thirium. It’s sickening.”
“You’re Leo Manfred, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.” Leo walks away, slams the door to his apothecary. He knows the no androids sign is there, keeping the plastic outside. 
Unfortunately, the android now collects paints from the Bellini near where Leo works. Meaning Leo has to suffer weekly crossing with Markus who keeps talking to him for some reason. 
It’s not long until Carl shows up. It’s been a few years with no contact whatsoever. Carl’s in a different place now. He’s chill, he’s sorted through his stuff and he wants to reconnect with his son. 
So he shows up where Leo works. At first, Leo doesn’t know (being blind). Carl’s just watching him, not saying anything. It isn’t until Leo’s co-worker points out that an old man has been coming in with an android (that’s definitely not allowed) that he knows his dad’s there. 
And Leo just straight up acts like he can’t see him. Because he can’t. He pretends his dad isn’t there and keeps on working as he usually does. 
It’s until Carl’s had enough and punches Leo in the gut just as he’s closing up that Leo even acknowledges the man. 
“What was that for?!” Leo spits out. “Wait, no, don’t answer that. I already know.”
“Well, then you should apologise.”
Carl is scarily forgiving of Leo (as I said before, he’s had years to deal with his anger) but Leo is still a little hesitant because he knows what it’s like for be seriously physically damaged and caused that to another person. 
Markus is actually fascinated with Leo, well, his magic to be more precise. It’s just really cool. This is a thing with androids where they just really like magic. It’s a contrast to what they are and it can’t be explained. 
Imma just end it here. If you have requests for magic in Detroit or anything else, feel free to leave an ask in my box!
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I Can Put On A Show // Selfie
Paisley was happy to have failed out of Hogwarts. Yes. Happy. Hogwarts was fun, it was an escape, but in the end, Hogwarts was a distraction from the real issues at hand. After prom, Paisley chose to leave Hogwarts. She didn't want to stay for the end of the year festivities or even to talk with others and spend their last few days together as students. No, Paisley had an alternative plan.
Paisley had spent weeks getting sober. Even checking herself into the infirmary and asking Clyde for help. This all would not have been possible without her dear step father's help of course. Pais knew he was using her. But if he was using her, she realized, maybe he was scared of her. Rather than feel helpless, Pais took her life into her own hands and used the only thing she knew how to do better than her stepfather. Lie.
Recording herself with a muggle phone, she had taken from an unsuspecting girl who passed out in the great hall; Paisley learned how she acted high. Her last few times, while getting over her addiction, were almost like research. Paisley still received care packages weekly from her step-father which she had begun giving to Clyde. After all, she didn't want to be tempted, and she began practicing on friends and classmates her high act. She learned how to make track marks in her arms and how to make herself sweat when she hadn't had a "fix". Her fake relapse even worked on Clyde who sent her to the infirmary for a few days after he saw her. Everything was going just as she would hope. So when she got the notification that she was failing, she knew it was time to go.
Paisley arrived home to the screams of her little sister. "Merlin," Pais said softly, forgetting how annoying her new sister, Mirabella, could be. She knew she never wanted a child, that was certain. Paisley walked in the house, track marks showing and she began shaking with purpose, it was show time.
"Mum," she called out to her mother. "Mum!" She called out again giggling a bit this time, just as a high Paisley would.
"Paisy?" Her mother said surprised, turning around the corner to see her other daughter while bouncing the little monster in her arms. It was clear her mom was on something, but like mother like daughter, eh? "Paisy, is school out already?" She said, nearly panicked looking for a calendar. Nearly of course, because when you're hyped on some mix of pain meds and Xanax, you don't really get panicked at all.
"Nah, mum I wanted to come home. Dad has sent me so many amazing care packages I thought I'd save him the owl!" She giggled. "Schools dumb anyway, I got you guys!"
Her mom smiled petting Paisley's head with one hand while holding Mirabella with the other. Her eyes seemed distant. "That's nice honey," her body swayed a bit more than normal.
High Paisley wouldn't have noticed, but Mirabella's screams and her mother's sways made Paisley's eyes lock on Mirabella. Paisley watched as little Mirabella started to slip in her mother's arms and a piece of Paisley lit up. Drop her. Yes. Drop her, make things easy. But between the sways and the demands of her mind, a pang rose up as Mirabella hung by her torso to her mother's arm and as her mother now closed her eyes slowly.
"Mum... Mira-MUM." Just as she did that Pais launched up catching her little sister as her mom fell half onto the couch. Slumping in a drugged sleep.
In her arms was the little monster now screaming in Paisley's arms. Gross. Paisley touched the babies clearly soiled diaper. Her mother was negligent. That wasn't new. It was a wonder that Paisley made it to 17, having experienced drunken and drug binges most of her life. Her mother was great when she was coherent, and now that Pais had lived a life of drugs, she understood why. But a part of Paisley did resent her mother, if not for her own sake, for Mirabella's. Pais expected her mother to be better now. She was older, not 17 like when she had Paisley, she had something to prove to her husband, and she had his support. After all, Miller had the money for at least four nannies. Unlike when Paisley was a toddler, and they had no money to spare.
Paisley began rocking Mirabella; it was strange to be doing so as she walked the house looking for a new diaper. It felt natural to be caring for the girl, in fact, despite the screaming, Paisley wanted to help.
Entering the nursery Paisley found it in ruins. Toys everywhere, pills covering the floor, diapers overflowing a bin in the corner. Before, Pais had been a little bitter, Mirabella was going to get a good Mom and a good dad. Everything was going to be proper, and she'd be raised with care and adoration. Further, she would have the whole Mafia's support and even get the Mafia itself one day. Gotta love nepotism.
The room screamed a different time, and a different childhood Paisley barely remembered before moving here. Of dirty mattresses on mice, ridden floors with lost girls who looked a lot like Paisley did now, early wrinkles, dark eyes, and pale skin. Shaking and crying because they needed their next fix. Paisley remembered being three and curled up on the mattress with her mom. She wasn't sure if her mom was dead or asleep and the other girls and the foul smell of body secretions filling the air. Paisley remembered the people who owned the house, giving the girls cuts of money that Paisley didn't understand. Paisley remembered being lucky to be there. Usually, kids weren't allowed. But Paisley was quiet and, if not, she was sneaky when she did something wrong. Paisley was called a burden by the house owner, who saw the girl as more of a pet. "Should have gotten rid of her when you had the chance" she remembered them saying, "no one needs a parasite."
Her mom would tuck her in at night and leave though, and sometimes she'd be gone for days. She thought Paisley didn't notice, she was young, and she was supposed to sleep when her mom was gone. But Pais would stay up all night waiting and shaking scared to get out of bed because the house owner yelled and hit her mom and the other girls when they did something wrong. All these years Paisley had seen Miller as a blessing. He gave them a home and money and no one hit, and they gave her whatever she wanted. Sure, now she wanted more, but looking at Mirabella, she felt a connection. This was the same Mom, and they were sharing a pain but to different extremes.
Paisley picked up a diaper and began cleaning up Mirabella. "You don't deserve this," Paisley said softly, guilt building up inside of her. She felt her eyes well up with tears, looking down at her baby sister. "I should have done a better job killing you." Paisley wiped her clean, but didn't put the diaper on Mira right away. Mira had gone quiet, cooing as she had been cleaned and kicking her legs happily. Paisley saw it, the little smile she had. It was just like hers. And her little hands and feet, she was going to be small, just like Paisley too. Paisley unfolded the diaper carefully, her hands shaking from nerves this time. Her mind had extreme clarity, and he finger tips tingled. Paisley lifted the diaper, covering Mirabella's face.
Mirabella wailed as Paisley tried to smother her. Paisley's hand was firm on Mira's face, pushing a little harder and hoping time and air would pass from Mirabella's lungs just that much faster. Paisle felt her own body go cold and pale at the thought of what Mira could become. This little girl didn't need to be a drug addicted pawn. This little girl didn't need to be neglected and paid off. This little girl didn't need to watch people she loved to get killed. This little girl didn't need to learn to lie her way through life. This little girl didn't need to feel like no one could ever love her. This little girl didn't need to become Paisley, because there was already a Paisley and that was already too much.
But her little feet kicked as she struggled for air and that part of Paisley that knew how to rock her, and knew that she needed to be changed, and knew to catch her when she fell, and saw the little smile she saw in herself, and the little body that would grow no bigger than her own, and that piece that felt that they were connected and knew, just knew, that they were sisters, that piece of her released her hand from the diaper and her sisters face. She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill this little monster.
Paisley touched her sister's hair; it was short and still fine. She was still young after all, but it was dark like hers. Pais knew she had her hair from her own father, but that didn't mean she didn't still feel like it was something that bonded them. They looked alike, that was without a doubt. They were certainly siblings. Pais diapered Mirabella and laid the girl down for a nap. Mira had stopped screaming, and Pais went around the room setting it up carefully and putting things where they belonged. She took the diaper in out, picked up the toys, threw her clothes in the laundry for the house elves to clean up. Paisley wanted to help, but Paisley knew she couldn't always be there for Mirabella. That didn't stop her from doing what she could now.
With all of her strength, she picked up her mother and placed her on her side, a blanket on top of her, and left her alone. Her mother had always tried, and in her own way, Pais wasn't mad about the way she was raised, she was bitter her mother couldn't do better than that now. But her stepfather, that's who she was really mad at. He could do better, but it was clear he was leaving her mother to do it herself. Paisley stood up,  listening carefully to be sure Mirabella was sleeping, and no one was around. She got back into character and made her way down the street, back to acting like a high girl who knew no better than to follow her stepdad's word and let him get her more drugs. But Pais knew. She always had known.
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Garden Quotes
Official Website: Garden Quotes
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• A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume. – Amy Lowell • A book is a garden, an orchard, a storehouse, a party, a company by the way, a counselor, a multitude of counselors. – Charles Baudelaire • A garden is a complex of aesthetic and plastic intentions; and the plant is, to a landscape artist, not only a plant – rare, unusual, ordinary or doomed to disappearance – but it is also a color, a shape, a volume or an arabesque in itself. – Roberto Burle Marx • A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. – Gertrude Jekyll • A garden is a grand teacher… above all it teaches entire trust. – Gertrude Jekyll • A garden is a symbol of man’s arrogance, perverting nature to human ends. – Tim Smit • A garden is a thing of beauty and a job forever. – Richard Briers • A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself. – May Sarton • A garden is an awful responsibility. You never know what you may be aiding to grow in it. – Charles Dudley Warner • A garden is the best alternative therapy. – Germaine Greer • A garden is to be a world unto itself, it had better make room for the darker shades of feeling as well as the sunny ones. – William Kent • A garden really lives only insofar as it is an expression of faith, the embodiment of a hope and a song of praise. – Russell Page • A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them. – Liberty Hyde Bailey • A garden was the primitive prison, till man with Promethean felicity and boldness, luckily sinned himself out of it. – Charles Lamb • A good garden may have some weeds. – Thomas Fuller • A house though otherwise beautiful, yet if it hath no garden belonging to it, is more like a prison than a house. – William H. Coles • A modest garden contains, for those who know how to look and to wait, more instruction than a library. – Henri Frederic Amiel • A person who undertakes to grow a garden at home, by practices that will preserve rather than exploit the economy of the soil, has his mind precisely against what is wrong with us. – Wendell Berry • Alfred Austin said, “Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.” – Alfred Austin • All gardeners live in beautiful places because they make them so. – Joseph Joubert • All gardening is landscape painting. – William Kent • All my hurts my garden spade can heal. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • An optimistic gardener is one who believes that whatever goes down must come up. – Leslie Hall • As a gardener, I’m among those who believe that much of the evidence of God’s existence has been planted. – Robert Breault • As long as you have a garden you have a future and as long as you have a future you are alive. – Frances Hodgson Burnett
jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Garden', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_garden').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_garden img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Be your own politics, grow your own garden, and maybe you can help out more. – Rip Torn • But though an old man, I am but a young gardener. – Thomas Jefferson • By the time one is eighty, it is said, there is no longer a tug of war in the garden with the May flowers hauling like mad against the claims of the other months. All is at last in balance and all is serene. The gardener is usually dead, of course. – Henry Mitchell
[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Christians are like the several flowers in a garden that have each of them the dew of heaven, which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each other’s roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of each other. – John Bunyan • Cultivate your own garden and let go of your tendency to examine and judge how others cultivate theirs. Catch yourself in moments of gossip about how others ought to be living and rid yourself of thoughts about how they should be doing it this way, or how they have no right to live and think as they do. Stay busy and involved in your own projects and pursuits. – Wayne Dyer • Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified? – Chuck Palahniuk • Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. – Ray Bradbury • Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace. – May Sarton • Friends are “annuals” that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a “perennial” that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect. There’s a place in the garden for both of them. – Erma Bombeck • Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle. – Francis Cabot Lowell • Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle. One lifetime is never enough to accomplish one’s horticultural goals. If a garden is a site for the imagination, how can we be very far from the beginning? – Francis Cabot • Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than Emperor’s. – Mary Cantwell • Gardening gives one back a sense of proportion about everything – except itself. – May Sarton • Gardening has compensations out of all proportion to its goals. It is creation in the pure sense. – Phyllis McGinley • Gardening is a kind of disease. It infects you, you cannot escape it. When you go visiting, your eyes rove about the garden; you interrupt the serious cocktail drinking because of an irresistible impulse to get up and pull a weed. – Lewis Gannett • Gardening is a labour full of tranquility and satisfaction; natural and instructive, and as such contributes to the most serious contemplation, experience, health and longevity. – John Evelyn • Gardening is civil and social, but it wants the vigor and freedom of the forest and the outlaw. – Henry David Thoreau • Gardening is how I relax. It’s another form of creating and playing with colors. – Oscar de la Renta • Gardening is not a rational act. – Margaret Atwood • Gardening is the best therapy in the world. – C. Z. Guest • Gardening is the only unquestionably useful job. – George Bernard Shaw • Gardening requires lots of water… most of it in the form of perspiration. – Louise Erickson • Gardening simply does not allow one to be mentally old, because too many hopes and dreams are yet to be realized. – Allan Armitage • Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade. – Rudyard Kipling • Gardens… should be like lovely, well-shaped girls: all curves, secret corners, unexpected deviations, seductive surprises and then still more curves. – H. E. Bates • Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed. – Walt Whitman • God Almighty first planted a Garden. And indeed it is the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gross handiworks. And a man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as if gardening were the greater perfection. – Francis Bacon • God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures. – Francis Bacon • God the first garden made, and the first city Cain. – Abraham Cowley • How can you be content to be in the world like tulips in a garden, to make a fine show, and be good for nothing. – Mary Astell • I also know that we must cultivate our garden. For when man was put in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, to work; which proves that man was not born for rest. – Voltaire • I also like to garden. I grow things, vegetables, flowers… I particularly like orchids. I raise orchids. – Beau Bridges • I am the fonder of my garden for all the trouble it gives me, and the grudging reward that my unending labours exact. – Reginald Farrer • I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden. – Frances Hodgson Burnett • I appreciate the misunderstanding I have had with Nature over my perennial border. I think it is a flower garden; she thinks it is a meadow lacking grass, and tries to correct the error. – Sara Bonnett Stein • I came to these mediums through having the garden, and of course, people who have designed gardens have always worked in collaboration, and never made their own inscriptions. – Ian Hamilton Finlay • I cultivate my garden, and my garden cultivates me. – Robert Breault • I do not know the names of all the weeds and plants, I have to do as Adam did in his garden… name things as I find them. – Charles Dudley Warner • I don’t like formal gardens. I like wild nature. It’s just the wilderness instinct in me, I guess. – Walt Disney • I don’t take myself seriously any more. Sometimes I just garden in my knickers and platform shoes. – Kim Wilde • I don’t think we’ll ever know all there is to know about gardening, and I’m just as glad there will always be some magic about it! – Barbara Damrosch • I enjoy the cleaning up – something about the getting of things in order for winter – making the garden secure – a battening down of hatches perhaps… It just feels right. – David Hobson • I have a garden, and I’m passionately interested in young people. – Mary Wesley • I have a rock garden. Last week three of them died. – Richard K. Diran • I have always wanted to be a gardener, and I love the time I spend in my garden. – Pawan Kalyan • I just go in my back garden. It’s the only place where people don’t come and bother you. – Boy George • I like to go for a walk or swimming or in the garden when I can. It’s a busy kind of life, but I guess I’m lucky. – Brian May • I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed. – Jeanette Winterson • I look upon the pleasure we take in a garden as one of the most innocent delights in human life. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • I love being in my garden. I don’t plant a lot of exotic flora, but I do spend a lot of time outside doing manual labour. – Jacqueline Bisset • I love decorating my home. I’m a gardener too, so that’s usually something I have to play catch up with – Suzy Bogguss • I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet in a garden. – Ruth Stout • I sit in my garden, gazing upon a beauty that cannot gaze upon itself. And I find sufficient purpose for my day. – Robert Breault • I suppose that for most people one of the darker joys of gardening is that once you’ve got started it’s not at all hard to find someone who knows a little bit less than you. – Allen Lacy • I think of marriage as a garden. You have to tend to it. Respect it, take care of it, feed it. Make sure everyone is getting the right amount of, um, sunlight. – Mark Ruffalo • I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation. – Phyllis Grissim-Theroux • I travel the garden of music, thru inspiration. It’s a large, very large garden, seen? – Peter Tosh • I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs. – Joseph Addison • I wake up some mornings and sit and have my coffee and look out at my beautiful garden, and I go, ‘Remember how good this is. Because you can lose it.’ – Jim Carrey • If Everton were playing down the bottom of my garden, I’d draw the curtains. – Bill Shankly • If we don’t empower ourselves with knowledge, then we’re gonna be led down a garden path. – Fran Drescher • If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden. – Frances Hodgson Burnett • If you would be happy all your life, plant a garden. – Nan Fairbrother • If you’ve never experienced the joy of accomplishing more than you can imagine, plant a garden. – Robert Brault • In almost every garden, the land is made better and so is the gardener. – Robert Rodale • In fine weather the old gentelman is almost constantly in the garden; and when it is too wet to go into it, he will look out the window at it, by the hour together. He has always something to do there, and you will see him digging, and sweeping, and cutting, and planting, with manifest delight. – Charles Dickens • In his garden every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation. Each within his green enclosure is a creator, and no two shall reach the same conclusion; nor shall we, any more than other creative workers, be ever wholly satisfied with our accomplishment. Ever a season ahead of us floats the vision of perfection and herein lies its perennial charm. – Louise Wilder • In order to live off a garden, you practically have to live in it. – Kin Hubbard • In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own. – Alice Walker • In the creation of a garden, the architect invites the partnership of the Kingdom of Nature. In a beautiful garden the majesty of nature is ever present, but it is nature reduced to human proportions and thus transformed into the most efficient haven against the aggressiveness of contemporary life. – Luis Barragan • It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves. – Robert Louis Stevenson • It is utterly forbidden to be half-hearted about gardening. You have got to love your garden whether you like it or not. – W. C. Sellar • It pleases me to take amateur photographs of my garden, and it pleases my garden to make my photographs look professional. – Robert Breault • It’s amazing to see places like Madison Square Garden on the schedule again. – Roger Taylor • I’ve always felt that you can’t do much wrong in a garden providing you enjoy it. – David Hobson • Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde • Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Last night, there came a frost, which has done great damage to my garden…. It is sad that Nature will play such tricks on us poor mortals, inviting us with sunny smiles to confide in her, and then, when we are entirely within her power, striking us to the heart. – Nathaniel Hawthorne • Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. – Marcel Proust • May our heart’s garden of awakening bloom with hundreds of flowers. – Nhat Hanh • My garden does not whet the appetite; it satisfies it. It does not provoke thirst through heedless indulgence, but slakes it by proffering its natural remedy. Amid such pleasures as these have I grown old. – Epicurus • Nature abhors a garden. – Michael Pollan • Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away! – Rudyard Kipling • Old gardeners never die. They just spade away and then throw in the trowel. – Herbert V. Prochnow • One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today. – Dale Carnegie • Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing ‘Oh how wonderful’ and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out, and start their working lives By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives. • People are always asking, “What’s the purpose of life?” That’s easy. Relieve suffering. Create beauty. Make gardens. – Dan Barker • Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads. – Marianne Moore • Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. • Sadness is but a wall between two gardens. – Khalil Gibran • So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. – Jorge Luis Borges • Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path – Jean Anouilh • Some people might think our lives dull and uneventful, but it does not seem so to us. …it is not travel and adventure that make a full life. There are adventures of the spirit and one can travel in books and interest oneself in people and affairs. One need ever be dull as long as one has friends to help, gardens to enjoy and books in the long winter evenings. – D.E. Stevenson • Someone had told me about a house in Wandsworth, southwest London – 21 Blenkarne Road – with an incredible garden, so I went and had a look. I walked in and just said, ‘I want it.’ – Susannah York • St. Francis of Assisi was hoeing his garden when someone asked what he would do if he were suddenly to learn that he would die before sunset that very day. “I would finish hoeing my garden,” he replied. – Francis of Assisi • Successful gardening is doing what has to be done when it has to be done the way it ought to be done whether you want to do it or not. – Jerry Baker • Taste every fruit of every tree in the garden at least once. It is an insult to creation not to experience it fully. Temperance is wickedness. – Stephen Fry • Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are. – Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin • The best way to garden is to put on a wide-brimmed straw hat and some old clothes. And with a hoe in one hand and a cold drink in the other, tell somebody else where to dig. – Texas Bix Bender • The country is making a big mistake not teaching kids to cook and raise a garden and build fires. – Loretta Lynn • The earth is my altar, the sky is my dome, mind is my garden, the heart is my home and I’m always at home – yea, I’m always at Om. – Eden Ahbez • The garden is a metaphor for life, and gardening is a symbol of the spiritual path. – Larry Dossey • The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway. – Michael Pollan • The great challenge for the garden designer is not to make the garden look natural, but to make the garden so that the people in it will feel natural. – Lawrence Halprin • The lesson I have thoroughly learnt, and wish to pass on to others, is to know the enduring happiness that the love of a garden gives. – Gertrude Jekyll • The love of gardening is a seed once sown that never dies. – Gertrude Jekyll • The more one gardens, the more one learns; And the more one learns, the more one realizes how little one knows. – Vita Sackville-West • The most noteworthy thing about gardeners is that they are always optimistic, always enterprising, and never satisfied. They always look forward to doing something better than they have ever done before. – Vita Sackville-West • The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum, and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world. – Michael Pollan • The true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • The weeds keep multiplying in our garden, which is our mind ruled by fear. Rip them out and call them by name. – Sylvia Browne • The wilderness is near as well as dear to every man. Even the oldest villages are indebted to the border of wild wood which surrounds them, more than to the gardens of men. There is something indescribably inspiriting and beautiful in the aspect of the forest skirting and occasionally jutting into the midst of new towns, which, like the sand-heaps of fresh fox-burrows, have sprung up in their midst. The very uprightness of the pines and maples asserts the ancient rectitude and vigor of nature. Our lives need the relief of such a background, where the pine flourishes and the jay still screams. – Henry David Thoreau • There are no green thumbs or black thumbs. There are only gardeners and non-gardeners. Gardeners are the ones who ruin after ruin get on with the high defiance of nature herself, creating, in the very face of her chaos and tornado, the bower of roses and the pride of irises. It sounds very well to garden a ‘natural way’. You may see the natural way in any desert, any swamp, any leech-filled laurel hell. Defiance, on the other hand, is what makes gardeners. – Henry Mitchell • There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder. – Alfred Austin • There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace. You will find that deep place of silence right in your room, your garden or even your bathtub. – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross • There is peace in the garden. Peace and results. – Ruth Stout • They can certainly expect to be very impressed with the technical aspects of the show, fooled and led up the garden path by the story and ultimately have a jolly good laugh! – Louise Jameson • To garden is to let optimism get the better of judgment. – Eleanor Perenyi • To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. – Audrey Hepburn • Unemployment is capitalism’s way of getting you to plant a garden. – Orson Scott Card • We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike. – Evelyn Underhill • We were enclosed, O eternal Father, within the garden of your breast. You drew us out of your holy mind like a flower petaled with our soul’s three powers and into each power you put the whole plant, so that they might bear fruit in your garden, might come back to you with the fruit you gave them. And you would come back to the soul, to fill her with your blessedness. There the soul dwells like the fish in the sea and the sea in the fish. – St. Catherine of Siena • Well, being a jazz musician is not a rose garden! – Toots Thielemans • What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. – Charles Dudley Warner • What is paradise, but, a garden, an orchard of trees and herbs, full of pleasure and nothing there but delights. – William Lawson • When your garden is finished I hope it will be more beautiful that you anticipated, require less care than you expected, and have cost only a little more than you had planned. – Thomas Church • Where would the gardener be if there were no more weeds? – Bill Vaughan • Wherever you have a plot of land, however small, plant a garden. Staying close to the soil is good for the soul. – Spencer W. Kimball • Who loves a garden still his Eden keeps. – Amos Bronson Alcott • Who loves a garden, still his Eden keeps, Perennial pleasures plants, and wholesome harvests reaps. – Amos Bronson Alcott • Why try to explain miracles to your kids when you can just have them plant a garden. – Robert Breault • Won’t you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you. – Richard Brinsley Sheridan • Your family and your love must be cultivated like a garden. Time, effort, and imagination must be summoned constantly to keep any relationship flourishing and growing. – Jim Rohn • Your garden will reveal yourself. – Henry Mitchell
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Garden Quotes
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• A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume. – Amy Lowell • A book is a garden, an orchard, a storehouse, a party, a company by the way, a counselor, a multitude of counselors. – Charles Baudelaire • A garden is a complex of aesthetic and plastic intentions; and the plant is, to a landscape artist, not only a plant – rare, unusual, ordinary or doomed to disappearance – but it is also a color, a shape, a volume or an arabesque in itself. – Roberto Burle Marx • A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. – Gertrude Jekyll • A garden is a grand teacher… above all it teaches entire trust. – Gertrude Jekyll • A garden is a symbol of man’s arrogance, perverting nature to human ends. – Tim Smit • A garden is a thing of beauty and a job forever. – Richard Briers • A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself. – May Sarton • A garden is an awful responsibility. You never know what you may be aiding to grow in it. – Charles Dudley Warner • A garden is the best alternative therapy. – Germaine Greer • A garden is to be a world unto itself, it had better make room for the darker shades of feeling as well as the sunny ones. – William Kent • A garden really lives only insofar as it is an expression of faith, the embodiment of a hope and a song of praise. – Russell Page • A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them. – Liberty Hyde Bailey • A garden was the primitive prison, till man with Promethean felicity and boldness, luckily sinned himself out of it. – Charles Lamb • A good garden may have some weeds. – Thomas Fuller • A house though otherwise beautiful, yet if it hath no garden belonging to it, is more like a prison than a house. – William H. Coles • A modest garden contains, for those who know how to look and to wait, more instruction than a library. – Henri Frederic Amiel • A person who undertakes to grow a garden at home, by practices that will preserve rather than exploit the economy of the soil, has his mind precisely against what is wrong with us. – Wendell Berry • Alfred Austin said, “Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.” – Alfred Austin • All gardeners live in beautiful places because they make them so. – Joseph Joubert • All gardening is landscape painting. – William Kent • All my hurts my garden spade can heal. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • An optimistic gardener is one who believes that whatever goes down must come up. – Leslie Hall • As a gardener, I’m among those who believe that much of the evidence of God’s existence has been planted. – Robert Breault • As long as you have a garden you have a future and as long as you have a future you are alive. – Frances Hodgson Burnett
jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Garden', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_garden').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_garden img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Be your own politics, grow your own garden, and maybe you can help out more. – Rip Torn • But though an old man, I am but a young gardener. – Thomas Jefferson • By the time one is eighty, it is said, there is no longer a tug of war in the garden with the May flowers hauling like mad against the claims of the other months. All is at last in balance and all is serene. The gardener is usually dead, of course. – Henry Mitchell
[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Christians are like the several flowers in a garden that have each of them the dew of heaven, which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each other’s roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of each other. – John Bunyan • Cultivate your own garden and let go of your tendency to examine and judge how others cultivate theirs. Catch yourself in moments of gossip about how others ought to be living and rid yourself of thoughts about how they should be doing it this way, or how they have no right to live and think as they do. Stay busy and involved in your own projects and pursuits. – Wayne Dyer • Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified? – Chuck Palahniuk • Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. – Ray Bradbury • Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace. – May Sarton • Friends are “annuals” that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a “perennial” that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect. There’s a place in the garden for both of them. – Erma Bombeck • Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle. – Francis Cabot Lowell • Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle. One lifetime is never enough to accomplish one’s horticultural goals. If a garden is a site for the imagination, how can we be very far from the beginning? – Francis Cabot • Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than Emperor’s. – Mary Cantwell • Gardening gives one back a sense of proportion about everything – except itself. – May Sarton • Gardening has compensations out of all proportion to its goals. It is creation in the pure sense. – Phyllis McGinley • Gardening is a kind of disease. It infects you, you cannot escape it. When you go visiting, your eyes rove about the garden; you interrupt the serious cocktail drinking because of an irresistible impulse to get up and pull a weed. – Lewis Gannett • Gardening is a labour full of tranquility and satisfaction; natural and instructive, and as such contributes to the most serious contemplation, experience, health and longevity. – John Evelyn • Gardening is civil and social, but it wants the vigor and freedom of the forest and the outlaw. – Henry David Thoreau • Gardening is how I relax. It’s another form of creating and playing with colors. – Oscar de la Renta • Gardening is not a rational act. – Margaret Atwood • Gardening is the best therapy in the world. – C. Z. Guest • Gardening is the only unquestionably useful job. – George Bernard Shaw • Gardening requires lots of water… most of it in the form of perspiration. – Louise Erickson • Gardening simply does not allow one to be mentally old, because too many hopes and dreams are yet to be realized. – Allan Armitage • Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade. – Rudyard Kipling • Gardens… should be like lovely, well-shaped girls: all curves, secret corners, unexpected deviations, seductive surprises and then still more curves. – H. E. Bates • Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed. – Walt Whitman • God Almighty first planted a Garden. And indeed it is the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gross handiworks. And a man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as if gardening were the greater perfection. – Francis Bacon • God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures. – Francis Bacon • God the first garden made, and the first city Cain. – Abraham Cowley • How can you be content to be in the world like tulips in a garden, to make a fine show, and be good for nothing. – Mary Astell • I also know that we must cultivate our garden. For when man was put in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, to work; which proves that man was not born for rest. – Voltaire • I also like to garden. I grow things, vegetables, flowers… I particularly like orchids. I raise orchids. – Beau Bridges • I am the fonder of my garden for all the trouble it gives me, and the grudging reward that my unending labours exact. – Reginald Farrer • I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden. – Frances Hodgson Burnett • I appreciate the misunderstanding I have had with Nature over my perennial border. I think it is a flower garden; she thinks it is a meadow lacking grass, and tries to correct the error. – Sara Bonnett Stein • I came to these mediums through having the garden, and of course, people who have designed gardens have always worked in collaboration, and never made their own inscriptions. – Ian Hamilton Finlay • I cultivate my garden, and my garden cultivates me. – Robert Breault • I do not know the names of all the weeds and plants, I have to do as Adam did in his garden… name things as I find them. – Charles Dudley Warner • I don’t like formal gardens. I like wild nature. It’s just the wilderness instinct in me, I guess. – Walt Disney • I don’t take myself seriously any more. Sometimes I just garden in my knickers and platform shoes. – Kim Wilde • I don’t think we’ll ever know all there is to know about gardening, and I’m just as glad there will always be some magic about it! – Barbara Damrosch • I enjoy the cleaning up – something about the getting of things in order for winter – making the garden secure – a battening down of hatches perhaps… It just feels right. – David Hobson • I have a garden, and I’m passionately interested in young people. – Mary Wesley • I have a rock garden. Last week three of them died. – Richard K. Diran • I have always wanted to be a gardener, and I love the time I spend in my garden. – Pawan Kalyan • I just go in my back garden. It’s the only place where people don’t come and bother you. – Boy George • I like to go for a walk or swimming or in the garden when I can. It’s a busy kind of life, but I guess I’m lucky. – Brian May • I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed. – Jeanette Winterson • I look upon the pleasure we take in a garden as one of the most innocent delights in human life. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • I love being in my garden. I don’t plant a lot of exotic flora, but I do spend a lot of time outside doing manual labour. – Jacqueline Bisset • I love decorating my home. I’m a gardener too, so that’s usually something I have to play catch up with – Suzy Bogguss • I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet in a garden. – Ruth Stout • I sit in my garden, gazing upon a beauty that cannot gaze upon itself. And I find sufficient purpose for my day. – Robert Breault • I suppose that for most people one of the darker joys of gardening is that once you’ve got started it’s not at all hard to find someone who knows a little bit less than you. – Allen Lacy • I think of marriage as a garden. You have to tend to it. Respect it, take care of it, feed it. Make sure everyone is getting the right amount of, um, sunlight. – Mark Ruffalo • I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation. – Phyllis Grissim-Theroux • I travel the garden of music, thru inspiration. It’s a large, very large garden, seen? – Peter Tosh • I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs. – Joseph Addison • I wake up some mornings and sit and have my coffee and look out at my beautiful garden, and I go, ‘Remember how good this is. Because you can lose it.’ – Jim Carrey • If Everton were playing down the bottom of my garden, I’d draw the curtains. – Bill Shankly • If we don’t empower ourselves with knowledge, then we’re gonna be led down a garden path. – Fran Drescher • If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden. – Frances Hodgson Burnett • If you would be happy all your life, plant a garden. – Nan Fairbrother • If you’ve never experienced the joy of accomplishing more than you can imagine, plant a garden. – Robert Brault • In almost every garden, the land is made better and so is the gardener. – Robert Rodale • In fine weather the old gentelman is almost constantly in the garden; and when it is too wet to go into it, he will look out the window at it, by the hour together. He has always something to do there, and you will see him digging, and sweeping, and cutting, and planting, with manifest delight. – Charles Dickens • In his garden every man may be his own artist without apology or explanation. Each within his green enclosure is a creator, and no two shall reach the same conclusion; nor shall we, any more than other creative workers, be ever wholly satisfied with our accomplishment. Ever a season ahead of us floats the vision of perfection and herein lies its perennial charm. – Louise Wilder • In order to live off a garden, you practically have to live in it. – Kin Hubbard • In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own. – Alice Walker • In the creation of a garden, the architect invites the partnership of the Kingdom of Nature. In a beautiful garden the majesty of nature is ever present, but it is nature reduced to human proportions and thus transformed into the most efficient haven against the aggressiveness of contemporary life. – Luis Barragan • It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves. – Robert Louis Stevenson • It is utterly forbidden to be half-hearted about gardening. You have got to love your garden whether you like it or not. – W. C. Sellar • It pleases me to take amateur photographs of my garden, and it pleases my garden to make my photographs look professional. – Robert Breault • It’s amazing to see places like Madison Square Garden on the schedule again. – Roger Taylor • I’ve always felt that you can’t do much wrong in a garden providing you enjoy it. – David Hobson • Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde • Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Last night, there came a frost, which has done great damage to my garden…. It is sad that Nature will play such tricks on us poor mortals, inviting us with sunny smiles to confide in her, and then, when we are entirely within her power, striking us to the heart. – Nathaniel Hawthorne • Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. – Marcel Proust • May our heart’s garden of awakening bloom with hundreds of flowers. – Nhat Hanh • My garden does not whet the appetite; it satisfies it. It does not provoke thirst through heedless indulgence, but slakes it by proffering its natural remedy. Amid such pleasures as these have I grown old. – Epicurus • Nature abhors a garden. – Michael Pollan • Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away! – Rudyard Kipling • Old gardeners never die. They just spade away and then throw in the trowel. – Herbert V. Prochnow • One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today. – Dale Carnegie • Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing ‘Oh how wonderful’ and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out, and start their working lives By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives. • People are always asking, “What’s the purpose of life?” That’s easy. Relieve suffering. Create beauty. Make gardens. – Dan Barker • Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads. – Marianne Moore • Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. • Sadness is but a wall between two gardens. – Khalil Gibran • So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. – Jorge Luis Borges • Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path – Jean Anouilh • Some people might think our lives dull and uneventful, but it does not seem so to us. …it is not travel and adventure that make a full life. There are adventures of the spirit and one can travel in books and interest oneself in people and affairs. One need ever be dull as long as one has friends to help, gardens to enjoy and books in the long winter evenings. – D.E. Stevenson • Someone had told me about a house in Wandsworth, southwest London – 21 Blenkarne Road – with an incredible garden, so I went and had a look. I walked in and just said, ‘I want it.’ – Susannah York • St. Francis of Assisi was hoeing his garden when someone asked what he would do if he were suddenly to learn that he would die before sunset that very day. “I would finish hoeing my garden,” he replied. – Francis of Assisi • Successful gardening is doing what has to be done when it has to be done the way it ought to be done whether you want to do it or not. – Jerry Baker • Taste every fruit of every tree in the garden at least once. It is an insult to creation not to experience it fully. Temperance is wickedness. – Stephen Fry • Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are. – Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin • The best way to garden is to put on a wide-brimmed straw hat and some old clothes. And with a hoe in one hand and a cold drink in the other, tell somebody else where to dig. – Texas Bix Bender • The country is making a big mistake not teaching kids to cook and raise a garden and build fires. – Loretta Lynn • The earth is my altar, the sky is my dome, mind is my garden, the heart is my home and I’m always at home – yea, I’m always at Om. – Eden Ahbez • The garden is a metaphor for life, and gardening is a symbol of the spiritual path. – Larry Dossey • The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway. – Michael Pollan • The great challenge for the garden designer is not to make the garden look natural, but to make the garden so that the people in it will feel natural. – Lawrence Halprin • The lesson I have thoroughly learnt, and wish to pass on to others, is to know the enduring happiness that the love of a garden gives. – Gertrude Jekyll • The love of gardening is a seed once sown that never dies. – Gertrude Jekyll • The more one gardens, the more one learns; And the more one learns, the more one realizes how little one knows. – Vita Sackville-West • The most noteworthy thing about gardeners is that they are always optimistic, always enterprising, and never satisfied. They always look forward to doing something better than they have ever done before. – Vita Sackville-West • The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum, and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world. – Michael Pollan • The true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • The weeds keep multiplying in our garden, which is our mind ruled by fear. Rip them out and call them by name. – Sylvia Browne • The wilderness is near as well as dear to every man. Even the oldest villages are indebted to the border of wild wood which surrounds them, more than to the gardens of men. There is something indescribably inspiriting and beautiful in the aspect of the forest skirting and occasionally jutting into the midst of new towns, which, like the sand-heaps of fresh fox-burrows, have sprung up in their midst. The very uprightness of the pines and maples asserts the ancient rectitude and vigor of nature. Our lives need the relief of such a background, where the pine flourishes and the jay still screams. – Henry David Thoreau • There are no green thumbs or black thumbs. There are only gardeners and non-gardeners. Gardeners are the ones who ruin after ruin get on with the high defiance of nature herself, creating, in the very face of her chaos and tornado, the bower of roses and the pride of irises. It sounds very well to garden a ‘natural way’. You may see the natural way in any desert, any swamp, any leech-filled laurel hell. Defiance, on the other hand, is what makes gardeners. – Henry Mitchell • There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder. – Alfred Austin • There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace. You will find that deep place of silence right in your room, your garden or even your bathtub. – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross • There is peace in the garden. Peace and results. – Ruth Stout • They can certainly expect to be very impressed with the technical aspects of the show, fooled and led up the garden path by the story and ultimately have a jolly good laugh! – Louise Jameson • To garden is to let optimism get the better of judgment. – Eleanor Perenyi • To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. – Audrey Hepburn • Unemployment is capitalism’s way of getting you to plant a garden. – Orson Scott Card • We have descended into the garden and caught three hundred slugs. How I love the mixture of the beautiful and the squalid in gardening. It makes it so lifelike. – Evelyn Underhill • We were enclosed, O eternal Father, within the garden of your breast. You drew us out of your holy mind like a flower petaled with our soul’s three powers and into each power you put the whole plant, so that they might bear fruit in your garden, might come back to you with the fruit you gave them. And you would come back to the soul, to fill her with your blessedness. There the soul dwells like the fish in the sea and the sea in the fish. – St. Catherine of Siena • Well, being a jazz musician is not a rose garden! – Toots Thielemans • What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. – Charles Dudley Warner • What is paradise, but, a garden, an orchard of trees and herbs, full of pleasure and nothing there but delights. – William Lawson • When your garden is finished I hope it will be more beautiful that you anticipated, require less care than you expected, and have cost only a little more than you had planned. – Thomas Church • Where would the gardener be if there were no more weeds? – Bill Vaughan • Wherever you have a plot of land, however small, plant a garden. Staying close to the soil is good for the soul. – Spencer W. Kimball • Who loves a garden still his Eden keeps. – Amos Bronson Alcott • Who loves a garden, still his Eden keeps, Perennial pleasures plants, and wholesome harvests reaps. – Amos Bronson Alcott • Why try to explain miracles to your kids when you can just have them plant a garden. – Robert Breault • Won’t you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you. – Richard Brinsley Sheridan • Your family and your love must be cultivated like a garden. Time, effort, and imagination must be summoned constantly to keep any relationship flourishing and growing. – Jim Rohn • Your garden will reveal yourself. – Henry Mitchell
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