#big blue clematis flowers

[redrandomposts]

For Posthumous Kid AU - this actually implies that segyeins have the DNA of *all* contestants...can we have a MiziSua kid in the neighboring lab? Double the pain! (Also, Till&Mizi rolling through the same/very similar experience and bonding over it is always good.) ((Chartreuse eyes under elegant inky locks is also quite an image -u-.))

Ah, the pain and the bittersweet contentedness of living on...

mizisua kid, where mizi is raising them... and tillivan's kid too...

===

"Slow down!" Mizi yelled, shoulder-length hair fluttering in the wind as she ran for her kid. Compared to her twenties, her joints just didn't move the same. A decade or so of aging really wore her body down.

"Hurry up, ma, I see Sara!" Her precious little boy yelled, a bright smile lighting his face. Mizi could remember the day she found him - an infant curled up, short black hair and wide eyes curiously looking at everyone passing by. He was sucking on his thumb, chartreuse (as Ivan called it) eyes peering into her soul. It was the nose, or the lips, or even the ears that told her all she needed to know; this was her and Sua's child. Looking at him now, with wide brim glasses and thin summer clothes, she could see how they both mixed to create someone wonderful.

From the horizon, a taller child ran into view. Long black hair that shone gray in the sunlight, with a black and white dress that billowed in the wind marked her silhouette. Most of all, eyes that were as blue as the sky and pupils red as a sunset told Mizi and Till all they needed to know; this was Ivan's flesh and blood mixed with Till's. Only a year older than her own, Sara managed to show everything that Ivan could have - hope, joy, and love that she knew was returned unconditionally.

Mizi wondered if Ivan would have shone so bright had he been alive.

"Clematis!" Sara yelled, tackling her best friend. Behind her, Till was watching forlornly, and Mizi could relate. It reminded her of her and Sua when they were little; the way they fell into the grass, grins big and bright and so so so full of love.

"Ma showed me how to make flower crowns!" Clematis said, turning to his mom who held a basket of flowers they've grown in the gardens. "Ma, ma, I wanna make one for Sara!"

Mizi laughed, a bell-like sound that has rung for both eternal happiness and mourning. "Of course, Clematis. You can show Sara how to make one too, right?"

"Uh huh!" Clematis nodded, and soon both of the children's attention were engrossed in each other and their flowers.

After a moment, Mizi turned to Till. "Till," she breathed. His eyes were red and puffy, yet the small uplift of his lips spoke volumes. "What nightmare did you have last night...?"

"I was... dreaming that Ivan was here, too, joining in the activities as if he were a child also," Till said, chuckling at the thought. "It's almost his anniversary, y'know?"

She did know. Mizi also knew Sua's, could hear the gunshot every morning she awoke the day they performed their stage together and never finished it. She could feel the cold sweat and warm blood as Hyuna was injured, delaying their rescue and leaving Ivan's corpse behind; she could feel the guilt as though it were bugs crawling up her skin and spine and muscles and flesh and blood.

Till turned to Mizi. "I wrote him a song, and painted something with all of us... Sua, too. I made a copy for you, too, Mizi. It's just that..." he hesitated, taking out the rolled up print to display it. "...I can't really remember their faces. I'm so grateful that I have Sara, or else I'd forget his eyes and the way his hair fell, the smirk that he'd always have when taking something..."

Mizi had the same problem, too. When she imagined Sua, she'd imagine her face before she died. She forgot the way she smiled before, when she didn't look so tense, forgot her embrace and touch and everything else. It's been eight years, and the way she remembers best is through archived videos of her only performance and her son, Clematis.

"I know Ivan would love Sara," Till breathed, looking at the sky wistfully. The clouds peacefully floated by, an image so unreal when before all Mizi saw were a fake hologram of it. "He'd love Clematis, too. He'd sneak candy and sing lullabies and read bedtime stories, cook breakfast and lunch and dinner, learn to bake their favorite treats..."

Tears welled up in both their eyes, dazzling in the sun. The laughter of the children seemed so far yet so close too, and if she listened closely, she could hear Sua and Ivan, too. Sua would adore the children, she knew. Sua... maybe she wouldn't be as good as Ivan at children, but she'd teach them the magical way she always solved math equations so easily, teach them faith and hope and that there is always someone for you, too.

===

i came up with sara when thinking of what till would name her. it comes from black sorrow, because sara sounds kind of like sorrow; he hazily listened to it as ivan performed, trying his best to grasp consciousness for... something. he didn't know then, but he knew now.

clematis, although sounding kind of like a girl's name because it refers to a flower, feels like the most obvious choice.

idk if i was really in character for them, but... it's been eight years since the events. they've had time to grow and reflect.

[pkmnprideflags]

Pokémon Character Etymology Comparison

Most of the time, the translators of the Pokémon games will a choose a name with a similar meaning to the Japanese one; for example, Takeshi comes from ishi, "stone," so he got the English name Brock. But sometimes they give characters random names that have nothing to do with their originals.

Because I'm a nerd, I compiled a collection of examples of this across the main series games, with the meanings for both the Japanese and English names listed. This is gonna be a long post; buckle up, folks.

Kanto

Guriin / Blue

Japanese Meaning: green

English meaning: blue. We’ve all heard of this one, but I couldn’t not include it.

Ayumi / Elaine

Japanese meaning: step or progress

English meaning: a lane. Possibly also chosen because it starts with E, as in Eevee? Sigh.

Shin / Trace

Japanese meaning: advance. Fits with the protags, Ayumi and Kakeru (to dash).

English meaning: uh…the protagonist is tracing his movements? He’s just a trace of what Blue was in the original games? It rhymes with Chase??? Who knows.

Dr. Yukinari Ohkido / Professor Samuel Oak

Japanese meaning: “ohkido” is a transliteration of orchid. Yukinari is similar to the given name of Unshou Ishizuka, the voice actor for Prof. Oak in the Japanese version of the anime; it’s unknown if that is related.

English meaning: So many questions. Why was he downgraded to a professor instead of a doctor? Why Oak instead of orchid, just ‘cause Oak sounds like more of an old man name? Samuel is similar to Salem Oak, a historic tree in New Jersey. Which is still a super random connection.

Nanami / Daisy

Japanese meaning: reference to a type of holly tree. Ironically is part of the Ilex genus, even though that forest is in a different region.

English meaning: the flower, duh. In Western cultures usually represents friendship and innocence. 

Masaki Sonezaki / Bill

Japanese meaning: First of all, yes, Bill kind of has a last name in Japanese. It has never appeared in the games, but was included in the Pocket Monsters Zukan, a supplementary material to Red & Green that is considered somewhat canon. Masaki comes from a type of shrub native to Asian countries, and Sonezaki is named after a region in Osaka, the city that that Bill’s hometown Goldenrod is based on.

English meaning: believed to be a reference to Bill Gates. Because computer man

Matisu / Lt. Surge

Japanese meaning: Seemingly a reference to Clematis, a genus of flower. I can’t find anything symbolically important about this flower that would apply to him.

English meaning: y’know, an electric surge. Could also come from “Sarge.” And they may have given him the specific rank of lieutenant because when abbreviated it kinda looks like lightning?

Kyou & Anzu / Koga & Janine

Japanese meaning: Doing these two together because their names correlate in Japanese. Both words are different ways of saying apricot.

English meaning: Koga-ryuu is a school of ninjutsu, and Janine is ninja with the syllables reversed.

Natsume / Sabrina

Japanese meaning: named after the Chinese jujube tree; big religious symbol in Islam, where it is rumored to be the Tree of Knowledge, and Buddhism through association with Vishnu.

English meaning: Psychic, brain, and possibly a reference to Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

Kanna / Lorelei

Japanese meaning: contains the word for “cold”; full name comes from the Canna lily, which ironically must be moved to a warm location during winter.

English meaning: supposedly after a famous maritime disaster site in Germany, which means “murmuring rock.” We went from flowers to death and destruction so fast

Wataru / Lance

Japanese meaning: cotton; and also a reference to a Japanese dragon-water-god.

English meaning: ok bulbapedia’s stretch here is that lances were used in medieval legends to fight dragons. But that’s stupid. They just chose a cool name

Johto

Dr. Utsugi / Professor Elm

Japanese meaning: from a Japanese shrub in the hydrangea family.

English meaning: the elm tree, continuing the trend of the Japanese doctors being named after shrubs & getting localized into tree professors.

Akane / Whitney

Japanese meaning: the madder plants, which are associated with the color red because of the dye they produce.

English meaning: white (or possibly whiny). Dunno how she became associated with an entirely different color.

Shijima / Chuck

Japanese meaning: several options here. There’s a cultivar of the haworthia genus, the word silence, or a term meaning four islands. 

English meaning: to throw. Possibly a Chuck Norris reference as well.

Mikan / Jasmine

Japanese meaning: citrus fruit, specifically oranges.

English meaning: name of a plant; likely chosen as a pun on “mine” or “mineral.”

Yanagi / Pryce

Japanese meaning: willow. Often seem as a solemn tree; notably only grows in colder or temperate locations.

English meaning: it’s an ice pun haha

Ibuki / Clair

Japanese meaning: Chinese juniper plant, popular in Japan for its use in bonsai art. Also “breath,” a pun on Dragon Breath.

English meaning: Lair. As in a place that dragons live. Wooooo

Itsuki / Will

Japanese meaning: Zelkova tree, popular once again in bonsai and also for furniture and drum making.

English meaning: willpower.

Hoenn

Mitsuru / Wally

Japanese meaning: to be frail; also influence from “vine” and “crane,” possibly referencing the practice of giving origami cranes to those who are ill.

English meaning: supposedly from “wallflower.” I think it’s weird to focus on the social effects of his condition when the Japanese name is so focused on the physical aspects of it but whatevs.

Old Man Hagi / Mr. Briney

Japanese meaning: the Japanese clover plant.

English meaning: brine, salt water.

Mari & Dai / Gabby & Ty

Japanese meaning: mari is “ball;” Bulbapedia posits this might refer to the end of a microphone, but I’m not convinced. And dai is a topic of an interview.

English meaning: from the verb “to gab,” and…possibly a reference to TV?

Mayumi / Lanette

Japanese meaning: from a type of spindle plant. It’s in the same genus as the plants Bill and Celio are named after.

English meaning: from LAN (local area network) and net, as in internet.

Azusa / Brigette

Japanese meaning: another spindle plant.

English meaning: bridge, a device to connect several networks, like how Pokémon Box connects to RSE. And then the same suffix as Lanette.

Director Kusunoki / Captain Stern

Japanese meaning: camphor tree

English meaning: the stern of a boat. No idea why his title was changed.

Higana & Shigana / Zinnia & Aster

Japanese meaning: Higana refers to the red spider lily, a plant commonly associated with death and the afterlife. Shigana, literally translated as “this shore,” refers to the mortal world, with higana (“other shore”) referring to the afterlife.

English meaning: Both flowers. Zinnia is usually associated with remembering an absent or distant, but not necessarily dead, friend. Kind of a watered-down version of the Japanese name. Aster is named after a Latin word for star, and is usually associated with faith and wisdom.

Tsutsuji / Roxanne

Japanese meaning: the rhododendron species of flowers.

English meaning: you guessed it, rocks.

Tessen / Wattson

Japanese meaning: passion flower clematis, the same genus referenced in Lt. Surge’s name.

English meaning: you guessed it, watts

Asuna / Flannery

Japanese meaning: from asunaro, a type of cypress tree. Ironically would not be a good tree for Lavaridge Town, as it is not drought-resistant.

English meaning: flames or something? I’m not convinced this is a real name

Senri / Norman

Japanese meaning: senryou, an herb often used for Japanese New Year decorations; also 1000 li (Chinese unit of measurement), a distance equivalent to over 300 miles. Yeesh

English meaning: you guessed it, normal

Nagi / Winona

Japanese meaning: the Asian bayberry plant; also a word for calm/lull.

English meaning: wind, wing, or winnow, a verb that means to remove chaff from grain via a strong gust of wind. Her Japanese name is calm, her English name is a forceful gale.

Kagari / Courtney

Japanese meaning: from kagaribi, bonfire.

English meaning: from “country,” likely to go along with Team Magma’s land theme.

Ushio / Matt

Japanese meaning: tide

English meaning: likely from the “mast” of a ship.

Izumi / Shelly

Japanese meaning: spring, as in a water location

English meaning: you guessed it, shell

Purimu / Glacia

Japanese meaning: primrose, a flower with some species that have adapted to cold climates; or possibly the adjective prim, meaning formal to a standoffish - or cold - extent.

English meaning: omg glaciers

Daigo Tsuwabuki / Steven Stone

Japanese meaning: last name comes from a plant that contains a kanji meaning “stone.” Daigo comes from the Indian coral tree, the blooming of which is associated with impending typhoons and drought. Makes me think of how Steven starts investigating Groudon & Kyogre way before anyone else, as if he can sense what’s coming.

English meaning: steel and stone. Why are the english names so not complex in gen 3

Datsura / Noland

Japanese meaning: from datura, a group of poisonous flowering plants.

English meaning: presumably from the word “knowledge” cuz he’s a buff nerd

Rira / Anabel

Japanese meaning: from lilac, which might just be the color of her hair.

English meaning: bulbapedia claims it comes from “ability” but I don’t buy it

Ukon / Spenser

Japanese meaning: from turmeric, the spice and plant.

English meaning: supposedly from “spirit”

Jindai / Brandon

Japanese meaning: both a reference to a plant and to ancient times (lit. “age of the gods”)

English meaning: supposedly from “brave”

Hiisu / Tucker

Japanese meaning: from heath, the plant type. Unrelated to Hisui.

English meaning: supposedly from “tactics”

Kogomi / Greta

Japanese meaning: ostrich fern

English meaning: “guts” or “great”

Sinnoh

Jun / Barry

Japanese meaning: probably from Junichi Masuda, longtime composer and contributor to the Pokémon games.

English meaning: No one really knows! It was his first default name in Diamond and Platinum. It’s what the anime dubbers chose for him when he first appeared, and it’s been his name ever since.

Ayako / Johanna

Japanese meaning: no one knows for either of these names! Ayako has a lot of meanings, many of which have to do with kimono designs for whatever reason.

English meaning: ultimately comes from Hebrew, meaning “God is gracious.”

Mizuki / Bebe

Japanese meaning: from the dogwood genus of trees & shrubs. Notably not related to the group of plants the previous storage developers were named after. Fun fact, Selene also has this name in Japanese.

English meaning: BBCode, a programming language used to format forum messages.

Hyouta & Tougan / Roark & Byron

Japanese meaning: doing these two together since their Japanese names correspond. They’re both named after different types of gourds.

English meaning: Roark is rock & ore; Byron is iron.

Makishimamu Kamen / Crasher Wake

Japanese meaning: literally, “Maximum Mask.” Thought to come from the orchid genus Maxillaria.

English meaning: Crashing waves & wake.

Merissa / Fantina

Japanese meaning: an herb genus; also a Western name, indicating that she’s a foreigner.

English meaning: phantom, and also fantasia, a type of tango.

Akagi / Cyrus

Japanese meaning: bishop wood tree, known for its red bark.

English meaning: a Persian name associated with the sun. Likely chosen to fit with the Commanders’ planet names.

Puruuto / Charon

Japanese meaning: Pluto, fitting with the other Commanders’ planet names.

English meaning: Jupiter’s biggest moon. Not a planet. Good job, guys

Ryou / Aaron

Japanese meaning: Japanese clethra tree

English meaning: likely from arachnid and arthropod

Kikuno / Bertha

Japanese meaning: both the English & Japanese names share the theme of being similar to Kikuko/Agatha. Like Kikuko, this name references chrysanthemum.

English meaning: has the same sound as “Earth.”

Goyou / Lucian

Japanese meaning: five-needle pine; also enlightenment.

English meaning: light, possibly also illusion or hallucination

Shirona / Cynthia

Japanese meaning: white-fruited nandina, a flower associated with growing love and good homes.

English meaning: epithet for Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon; possibly chosen to contrast with Cyrus.

Kokuran / Darach

Japanese meaning: the pantropic widelip orchid.

English meaning: Gaelic word for oak. Probably a reference to Prof Oak tbh

Neziki / Thorton

Japanese meaning: staggerbush, a kind of plant.

English meaning: from “thorn.” Staggerbushes do not have thorns.

Unova

Banjirou / Benga

Japanese meaning: the guava fruit.

English meaning: the Malabar kino tree.

Tetsu / Curtis

Japanese meaning: iron

English meaning: comes from a French word that means polite or courteous

Ruri / Yancy

Japanese meaning: from lapis lazuli

English meaning: similar to “fancy” I guess.

Nobori & Kudari / Ingo & Emmet

Japanese meaning: up-train & down-train, respectively. Refers to global train track directions.

English meaning: Ingo is believed to be a pun on “ingoing” train, so you’d think Emmet would be some pun on outgoing, right? Nope. He’s a variation on “emit.” Why? Who knows

Dento, Poddo, & Kohn / Cilan, Chili, & Cress

Japanese meaning: the brothers are all named after corn: dent corn, pod corn, and…just corn.

English meaning: in English the brothers are named after herbs and plants: cilantro, chili peppers, and watercress.

Hachiku / Brycen

Japanese meaning: black bamboo.

English meaning: it’s an ice pun

Shaga / Drayden

Japanese meaning: from the fringed iris, therefore tying him further to Iris. 

English meaning: shortening of “dragon’s den.”

Vaabena / Anthea

Japanese meaning: from a flower genus that symbolizes “tender love.”

English meaning: epithet of Hera, the goddess of women and family. Also has some added musical symbolism - her name is similar to anthem, and Concordia is similar to concord, another word for harmony.

Giima / Grimsley

Japanese meaning: comes from a shrub; but also may reference words for the devil, deception, and the transliteration of “boogeyman.”

English meaning: grim or grimace + sly

Katorea / Caitlin

Japanese meaning: from Cattleya, a genus of orchids.

English meaning: roughly similar to Japanese name, with possible influence from “castle.”

Kakitsubata / Drayton

Japanese meaning: the Japanese iris, connecting to Drayden & Iris’s Japanese names. Also contains an anagram of tatsu, a word for dragon.

English meaning: similar to Drayden. And kind of similar to dragon if you squint

Kalos

Karumu / Calem

Japanese meaning: from calme, calm in French.

English meaning: looks similar enough to the word calm, but it technically comes from a Scottish name meaning “dove.”

Sana / Shauna

Japanese meaning: either Latin for “healthy” or Arabic for “brilliance.”

English meaning: probably just chosen because it’s similar; technically comes from the name John, meaning “God is gracious.”

Dr. Platane / Professor Augustine Sycamore

Japanese meaning: French for plane tree.

English meaning: sycamores are not plane trees; however, to be fair, Augustine Henry is a cultivar of plane trees. Officially headcanoning Henry as his middle name now

Koruni / Korrina

Japanese meaning: from cornichon, french for gherkin. 

English meaning: vaguely similar to Japanese; also, the words KO and arena.

Gojika / Olympia

Japanese meaning: the midday flower; also time.

English meaning: an unrelated genus of flower; also Olympian (godlike, superior).

Akebi / Aliana

Japanese meaning: from the chocolate vine.

English meaning: from the genus Aliana, and possibly a liana, a type of woody branch that grows from the ground.

Bara / Bryony

Japanese meaning: their word for rose.

English meaning: the bryony plant.

Korea / Celosia

Japanese meaning: Correa genus.

English meaning: Celosia, a genus in the amaranth family.

Alola

Nariya Ohkido / Samson Oak

Japanese meaning: nariya-ran is a name for the bamboo orchid, making his full name an orchid genus. Nariya is also similar to Yukinari.

English meaning: keeps the similarity to Samuel, but otherwise has no special meaning.

Kaki / Kiawe

Japanese meaning: kaki means fire; also, the Asian persimmon,

English meaning: kiawe, a species of tree often used for charcoal and long-lasting firewood.

Raichi / Olivia

Japanese meaning: transliteration of lychee, a tropical tree.

English meaning: from a flowering plant called maile, and possibly also the rock olivine.

Galar

Rurina / Nessa

Japanese meaning: from the Cupid’s Dart flower.

English meaning: lots of options here. There’s nesses, a type of shoreline; the infamous Loch Ness; the Greek name Nerissa, meaning “from the sea;” or a Cornish word meaning second.

Hisui

Omatsu, Otake, & Oume / Charm, Clover, & Coin

Japanese meaning: respectively, pine, bamboo, and plum; these three combine to form the symbols called the Friends of Winter in Chinese art, which symbolize perseverance and resilience.

English meaning: all three are named after objects that are believed to be lucky.

Tsuiri / Tuli

Japanese meaning: the beginning of the rainy season.

English meaning: supposedly from “Tulip.”

Sharon / Anthe

Japanese meaning: possibly from Rose of Sharon, a Biblical term referring to an unknown flower; likely also from the word for “gauze.”

English: the Greek word for flower; possibly also chrysanthemum.

Yura / Vessa

Japanese meaning: from “Yuraa!!”, Spiritomb’s cry before it battles the player.

English meaning: from vessel.

Paldea & Kitakami

Kaede / Katy

Japanese meaning: from the word for maple.

English meaning: possibly referencing katydid (bush crickets).

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

My Garden Flowers Part 7

All photos mine, unedited.

In order of appearance:

181. Early Goldenrod (Solidago juncea) She's named for flowering earlier than most goldenrods, which tend to flower in late summer to fall, but not all! I've seen others flower earlier.

182. Canadian Fly Honeysuckle (Lonicera canadensis) Wasn't expecting her to flower this year, but there she was in the spring! No berries, though, sadly. Maybe next year!

183. Sweetshrub (Calycanthus floridus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

184. Burning Bush (Euonymus atropurpureus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

185. Mapleleaf viburnum (Viburnum acerifolium) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

186. Veiny Meadow Rue (Thalictrum venulosom) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

187. Wild Hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) Not blue like the ones that enchanted me the time I visited my aunt in England, but still very nice.

188. Beggar's Lice (Hackelia virginiana) I didn't plant her and don't keep many now that she's popped up. She's a handsome enough plant but her fruits stick to EVERYTHING and leaves can get sickly from time to time.

189. Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet and probably won't this year because my landlord cut that area. (:

190. Squashberry (Viburnum edule) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

191. Snowberry (Symphoricarpos albus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

192. Virgin's Bower (Clematis ligusticifolia) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

193. Largeleaf Waterleaf (Hydrophyllum macrophyllum) In my opinion she should be named for her rhizome rather than her leaf. The leaves aren't that big but the rhizomes are huge.

194. Twinflower (Linnaea borealis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet, but she is spreading in a nice little mat.

195. Alpine bistort (Bistorta vivipara) Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.

196. Rough Cinquefoil (Potentilla norvegica monspeliensis) I didn't plant this, but she is there regardless! Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.

197. Sweetfern (Comptonia peregrina) Not a fern. The leaves are just kind of fernlike.

198. Sundial Lupine (Lupinus perennis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet. New area for her and we'll see if A) she survives and B) if she doesn't turn out to be bigleaf lupine again.

199. Gray Goldernrod (Solidago nemoralis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

200. Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) She gets fairly tall and the flowers come up at the top.

201. Scarlet Runner Bean (Phaseolus coccineus) Another one that's not native to the area and can't survive the winter, but has been grown here in the summers long before colonization.

202. Tall Cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta) Very strawberry-like flowers that sit atop the plant.

203. Early Saxifrage (Micranthes virginiensis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

204. American Sweetflag (Acorus americana) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

205. River Beauty (Chamaenerion latifolium) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

206. Large cranberry (Vaccinium macrocarpon) Don't know if she'll flower again this year, but she did make a couple of berries last year!

207. Heart-Leaved Aster (Symphyotrichum cordifolium) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

208. Trout Lily (Erythronium americanum) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

209. Little Sweet Betsy (Trillium cuneatum) This was supposed to be a different species, but that's okay. She's still native to the range I accept. Her leaves have a lovely natural variegation to them.

210. Woodland Phlox (Phlox divaricata) Nice blue flowers that thrive in shady spots.

[songofsaraneth]

I've been meaning to make a container garden update post for weeks now, but health/life kept getting in the way. So these photos are taken within the last week-ish but I've been getting it all set up over the last month! Including finally getting through the last of my rain barrel so I could scrub and rinse it out.

First major thing is I finally bit the bullet and bought the expensive porch loveseat of my dreams. I've been wanting a little couch or egg chair out there for 2.5 years but nothing ever appeared secondhand, and they're SO expensive. But finally there was a half off sale and so I went for this one from target. The best part about having that wicker back means I can use an umbrella or clip fabric to it as a shade cloth, and since it's already almost 90ºF here, that's a big motivator for spending time outside. Anyway here’s the breakdown of what I’ve got in now. Text and photos not in order bc it was too hard. Also, I tried to put a readmore here, but... I guess tumblrs not letting me have those today so sorry, long post it is! For edibles, I’ve got 4 containers of tomatoes (3 cherry/snacking and one slicing), 2 containers of strawberries (all that survived from last season!),  2 kinds of chives (normal and garlic), 2 kinds of basil (sweet and spicy globe), oregano with lemon thyme, and my hardy old rosemary. The basils got chewed up by a stray cat so I had to keep them inside for a week to recover. Then I sprayed the general area with orange oil to deter it and the orange oil ended up burning their fragile leaves, so thye’ve had a rough time of it. but! finally recovering 😬 And the big blue container I’m trying to repurpose for melons this spring, and will plant spaghetti squash later in the summer. Will I be able to get cantaloupes supported on the treils with netting? Not sure but I’m gonna try. Def most experimental inclusion this year. For perennial flowers from last year, almost all survived! I’ve got 4 kinds of sage (one of which seeded into an adjacent empty pot, so I left it and added some annual violas), guara, penstemon, 2 kinds of lavender, and a miniature rose. My red geranium kept blooming all through winter, so I got a pink and a purple one as well. The sages look a bit rough right now because I left for a week before I put in the other annuals and they’re the thirstiest of the bunch, so dropped a lot of blooms. Oh well.  For new additions and annuals, I went crazy lol. My most dangerous to shop with friend and I went to the local nursery and stores together so of course we both went overboard. I finally got one of the jasmine I’ve been eying for a year and a half, which just started blooming and already smells amazing. My 2 gailardia were tiny rosettes but ones forming a bloom and I’m so excited. Also marigolds, zinnias, petunias, lantanas, those fluffy spike ones I’m blanking on the name of, and a fuchsia! And probably some I forgot. The fuchsia’s been swapped to a shader spot already, but it’s getting ready to bloom and I’m excited. I also, while visiting Colorado two weeks ago, accompanied my friend to a nursery and ended up driving back with a clematis, one of my favorite flowers ever. It’s still vining up right now but fingers crossed for flowers.  SO. Lots of things in at the moment, so far been good for the last week and we’ll see what ends up surviving the summer heat or not once we get to the weeks of 100ºF+ days. I’ve got some other plans/tweaks, but this is the bulk of things. Otherwise, life has been a lot and I’m still goin through it...grad school, research, coping with the porch birds I love getting killed by the feral cats, and so on :( Getting up to water has been motivating at least for finally leaving bed in the morning despite all my eye pain troubles (easier to just keep them closed for an extra 3 hours than to start the sequence of drops and compresses it takes to get them open). But then I can do my morning doomscrolling at least surrounded by beautiful flowers and birdsong instead of huddled in my cave.

[bethestaryouareradio]

Dear Deer!

By Cynthia Brian

 "We are part of the earth, and it is part of us… the deer, the horse, the great eagle: these are our brothers.”

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– Chief Seattle.

Now that fall has arrived, foraging deer have become a nuisance in suburban gardens. The Columbian Blacktail was abundant during the 18th century in California. The population plummeted after the Goldrush due to over-hunting for venison and rawhide. The Department of Fish and Game speculates that between 1900-1910, fewer than 300,000 deer of all species roamed the state. In 1907, deer hunting was regulated resulting in deer residents soaring to over a million by the 1940s. The decline of the horned herbivores began when fire suppression increased, agricultural plots swelled, and wildlands became suburban developments. Yet, the dear deer acclimated to their new environment and today claim our gardens as their favorite restaurants.

As I’ve been busy with garden consultations this past month, the issue of deer damage continues to be a major concern. The hills are dry, edible resources have diminished, and the most inviting source of delectable treats grows in our private landscapes. Oh deer!

As a child, I remember going out into the orchards and vineyards on our farm at dusk every September evening to scare the herds as they could easily devour a year’s harvest. All the methods we tried didn’t work until we built fences surrounding the property.

I have always admired these beautiful, gentle creatures, and I enjoy watching the big bucks in the hills, sometimes sparring. In the spring when the mothers show their fawns where the newly sprouted green weeds are growing, I am doubly delighted. As much as I enjoy these wild, peaceful prowlers, like all gardeners, I don’t want them devouring my plants.

It is essential to be clear. There is NO DEER-PROOF plant. If the animal is hungry enough, he or she will eat anything. The only deer-proof garden is a fenced garden. In this article, I’ll share a few strategies for you to attempt. However, I reiterate, that the only foolproof method is to fence your yard. Since most people don’t fence their front gardens, I am including a list of plants that deer relish munching and a list of plants they prefer not to consume, although they’ll eat the new, tender shoots of most. Keep this handy list as a reference as you plan to plant.

What plants are deer attracted to?

Deer enjoy sweet, soft, delicate plants that won’t annoy their tongues or their sensitive palates.

If you want to offer deer a bountiful buffet, these are a few of the plants they gravitate to:

Agapanthus

Pansies

Daylilies

Hosta

Violas

Violets

Dahlia

Tulips

Sunflower

Crocus

Gerbera

Hydrangea

Rhododendron

Azalea

Hibiscus

Clematis

Hollyhock

Morning glory

Blackberries

English ivy

Grape vines

Kiwi

Peas

Greens (lettuce, spinach, chard)

Beans

Cabbage

Broccoli

Beets

Carrot tops

Corn

Deer-Resistant Species

In general, marauding stags and does stays away from strong-smelling, bitter-tasting, fuzzy, leathery, spiny, toxic, and fibrous foliage. They will eat these as a last resort because no flower or leaf is deer-proof. They innately know what plants are poisonous. If you want to deter deer from dining chez vous, try planting the selections below.

Natives:

Yarrow

Manzanita

Sage (salvias)

Pot marigolds

California poppies

Milkweed

Ferns

California Fuchsia

Deer Grass

Pink flowering currant

Elderberry

Blue-eyed grass

California lilac (ceanothus)

Grevillea (peaches and cream)

Muhly grass

Jerusalem sage

Other Perennial Plants

Bee Balm

Lavender

Catmint

Society Garlic

Ornamental onion

Echinacea

Hardy Geranium

Pinks

Astilbe

Red hot poker

Peony

Dusty Miller

Lambs ear

Hellebore

Penstemon

Digitalis (Foxglove)

Sea Foam Statice

Ferns

Coral Bells (Heuchera)

Coreopsis (Tickseed)

Russian Sage

Sea Holly

Nigella

Nasturtium

Kangaroo Paw

Cosmos

Rudbeckia

Lantana

Gaillardia (Blanket flower)

Sweet Alyssum

Camellia

Dicentra (Bleeding Heart)

Primrose

Bulbs

Crocosmia

Wild leeks

Daffodils

Iris

Allium

Dutch iris

Crocus

Woodland hyacinth

Naked Ladies

Anemone

Annuals

Verbena

Snapdragon

Marigold

Bachelor Buttons

Calendula

Annual Vinca

Lobelia

Larkspur

Tobacco

Stock

Strawflower

Mexican Sunflower

Zinnia

Bushes

Boxwood

Butterfly Bush      

Viburnum

Deutzia

Rose of Sharon

Daphne

Lilac

Weigela

Chinese Fringe flowers

Barberry

Russian Sage

Silky Dogwood

Vines:

Passionflower

Pink Bower Vine

Other Grasses (many grasses are not recommended due to being fire-prone)

Lomandra grass

Mexican Feather grass

Zebra grass

Fountain grass

New Zealand flax

Egyptian Papyrus

Mondo grass

Blue Oat grass

Deer Deterrents

Many people have experimented with deer deterrents. Other than allowing your dogs to roam the perimeter installing fencing around the area, or putting wire around every single plant, I have not found that any of these worked. Give any a try and let me know if you are successful.

1.     Sprays that include rotten eggs, panther urine, garlic, and soap. If sprayed everywhere every few days, you might be in luck. Deer Away and Liquid Fence have been mentioned as effective when used according to directions.

2.     Motion-activate sprinklers. They do work to scare the deer away, but I hate wasting a drop of water.

3.     Whirly flags or spin wheels, but you’d need a dozen or more.

4.     Shaved soap, usually Irish Spring. I think the herbivores loved the clean scent.

When the foraging pickings are slim, the deer adapt to whatever is available. In autumn, deer lack sustainable food resources. Our lush landscapes are extremely attractive to them. As you decide what to plant this season, select smartly and with the knowledge that no plant is deer-proof.

We are all part of this earth. Do your best to get along with our nature’s brothers and sisters.

Dear deer!

Happy Gardening. Happy Growing.

For more gardening advice for all seasons, check out Growing with the Goddess Gardenerat https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/books. Raised in the vineyards of Napa County, Cynthia Brian is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3 which was just honored as the 2024 Nonprofit of the Year by the Moraga Chamber of Commerce. 

Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com. Her newest children’s picture book, Books in the Barnyard: Oh Deer!, from the series, Stella Bella’s Barnyard Adventures is available at https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/online-store. Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com  

Thanks for reading StarStyle® Empowerment! This post is public so feel free to share it.

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[theworldimworkingtowards]

Farm and Garden Accountability:

Flower CSA

Stem Bar - build your own - Bouquet foliage building

Bouquets based on Fendi bags

Astrology Bouquets

Dinners having a living breathing bouquet (plant cuttings rooting in water/Elderberry) in the center for everyone to take home. Basil. Lotus flowers

Communal bouquet, have so many vases filled with flowers, let all attendants pick out a flower to place in the big vase, let everyone fill it out as they choose to and see what community created

Growing a section of a culinary garden that’s just foliage that’s used for folding and food packaging

Flower Fridge - to keep bouquets cool

Mushroom sex garden: Ejaculation logs 🪵- mushroom logs that look like genitalia. Mushrooms that need to penetrate ginger plants. Etc

Melody Center: Growing plants in containers of donated musical instruments. Succulents in the hole of recorders, gourds in trombones, vines through violins, grapes growing by harps, orchids on DJ equipment, Brussel sprout bells etc. having that little machine that plays music from plant vibrations present for demonstrations.

Clown garden in collaboration with a circus-Spilanthes. Amaranth. Cockscomb. Yarrow. Strawberry. Coral honeysuckle. Globe amaranth. Clematis. Amsonia blue ice. Rhubarb

Leopard spotted garden / animal print garden: White and black zigzags - Zebras + Spots of black eyed Susan - Leopard /Rarer animals and characteristics, like salamanders- Red or Orange Armyryllis

Display of ceramic Jugs for floral displays

Love letter seed box library (Seed library shaped like a love letter)

Astrology garden seed packets

12 of each seed packet- Libra- bleeding heart, mountain mint, Aries

Calendula house- having a silent safety net with calendula and sunflower or a series of garden plants that indicate this house is safe to seek rest and refuge in

Rose bushes shaped like a heart

Star garden in the form of black eyed Susan’s

Echinacea discolball shaped garden

Marigold sun

ana mendieta moss garden

Breakfast garden (garden full of plants that look like breakfast food. White Poppies with yellow centers, amaranth that looks like bacon, chives)

Egg garden (white flowers with a yellow flower center)

Tea Garden-Chamomile. Rose. Lavender. Lemon balm. Elderberry. Ginger root. Raspberry. Echinacea. Catnip. Bergamot. Strawberry. Juniper

Raised garden bed shaped like a hand

Plant growing in rain boot

Bouquet fundraiser. Bouquet for everyone who donates a certain amount for the [blank]

Gardens in the shape of clothes and then allowing them to grow past their bounds to emphasize the natural movements and pathways in a living environment’s formation and also the need for clothing to run its course

Anthropoid hotel

Garden in the shape of the [blank] lakes

Indigenous darkness garden- spirit garden- offering garden - allowance for demons and vengefuls and indifferent but powerful entities to soar and move and pass through like a fence of protections

Having dark / black plants / having plants with powerful energies like the one poisonous moon flower, having plants that flower at night, having plants whose shapes curl and form and twist, plants that offer moth home and nourishment, Cyepress, cedar, grasses with stripes, plants that hold things at bay, like willow and sweet grass, fish in the pond of the garden, black trees like the one elderberry variety,

Garden that spells out sustain

Hiding native plants and tools in a cooler and beach bag with a towel. Look and dress like tourists and sneakily plant plants and seeds

Exotic spices garden- Saffron, Ginger, Lemongrass, Vanilla Orchids, Fennel, Sumac, Lavender, Amaranth, Cardamom, Jasmine, Garlic (for Black Garlic), Shizo, rose. passionflower, Persian Basil

Bathroom bouquet - Flowers and Arrangements that are heavily scented and release oils in moisture. Lavender, eucalyptus, other mint family plants like sage

Ancestral bouquets - plants that have ancestral spirit-medicine like amaranth, marigold, rose, and more

Sex Work Garden:

Vines. Red Kitten Spinach. Strawberries. Grapes. Cherry tree. Red Velvet Okra. Strawberry spinach. Osmin Basil. Cinnamon Basil. Licorice Basil. Red Roses. Globe Eggplant. Sweet bay magnolia. Spice bush. Lotus. Bee Hive. Carnivorous plant greenhouse with fig tree. Passionflower. Orchids. Red Dahlias. Clematis (leather flower). Chokecherry.

Native plant bouquets:

4 judges,

3 top picks,

Widdling it down to 1st 2nd 3rd

Basic bouquet template printed out: two different foliages, filler flower, flower to give height, ‘star’ flower, flower to fill in any missing spots

Intention: The indigenous plants cultivated and tended to prior to contact and that have survived throughout colonization are beautiful and abundant in the ways they nourish us and our senses. Responsibly foraged and tended Native bouquets as a love letter to the land

Invasive plant bouquets

4 judges,

3 top picks,

Widdling it down to 1st, 2nd, 3rd

Basic bouquet template printed out: two different foliages, filler flower, flower to give height, ‘star’ flower, flower to fill in any missing spots

Intention: Many of the plants that were brought here, were brought here as food and medicine, or for their beauty. Invasive plants are just wildflowers, native trees and vines from other homelands, and this is a way to honor the plant as a source of nourishment while doing our part to make sure we’re taking care of the environment and it’s contexts sustainably

Having a fabric / dye garden with patron saints hung like scarecrows. A black turtleneck dyed black with tree of heaven in a nestle of tree of heaven. A red dress in a madder dye bed. Indigo blue scarf wrapped between crown of thorns in indigo field. Green cargo pants hung in clover field.

Medicinal first aid kit garden

Cascading pitcher plant deck entrance

Wampum grass bouquet - pink/purple/white grasses and floral purple bouquets

[the-messenger-hawk]

Tower of God - Flowers

-list under the cut- it’s also big-

Bam: Protea = “evolution/courage”

Khun: Clematis = “ingenuity/mental strength”

Rak: Gladiolus = “strength/integrity”

Rachel: Yellow Carnation = “rejection/disappointment”

Wangnan: Marigold = “aspiration (pain/grief)”

Miseng: Blue Iris = “faith/hope”

Ehwa: Amaryllis = “beauty/pride”

Shibisu: Blue Hyacinth = “constancy/sincerity”

Endorsi: Tiger Lily = “wealth/pride”

Anaak: Tansy = “declaration of war”

Hatz: Black-Eyed Susan = “justice”

Horyang: Forget-Me-Not = “memory”

Yuri: Red Rose = “passion”

Hwaryun: Lotus = “enlightenment”

Karaka: Black Rose = “death”

Jinsung: Oleander = “caution”

Bonus-

Akraptor: Edelweiss = “devotion/sacrifice”

Prince: Narcissus = “ego/clarity (misfortune)”

Goseng: Chamomile = “patience”

[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

[wrenandthemachine]

**Excerpt from Chapter 18. Wren and Cayde go find a cache in Deepcourt** Open beams were overrun by wisteria, morning glories, clematis, and jasmine. Sunlight poured through where the outside wall opposite the door was broken away, leaving a few stray chunks of brick on the floor. Flowerpots all over had shattered, soil scattered to the wind. Someone had cared for the garden long ago but most of those plants were dead now with not even a shriveled stalk left behind. Only the vine plants which overtook the posts and trellis’ remained.  

Flowers of lilac, purple, and white swayed in the breeze while the blue morning glories were shut tight against the sun. Wren touched a bud, larger than the morning glory but wrapped similarly, and asked about its name.

“Those are called moon flowers,” Cayde said, coming up behind her. “They’re big white flowers. Only open up at night though. If you wanna see those, you have to be up here at night.”

“Maybe someday.”

[snoozingcat]

on AO3: aka the AU where they’re plants ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Tony wasn’t pleased when the human put a new plant so close to him. 

It was barely a foot away; much, much too close. Whatever it was wasn’t bothering him right now, but eventually it would get bigger and its roots would get deeper and then they’d be competing. 

Not that Tony was afraid of a little competition. His roots were strong and deep. The human watered him just enough and the fertilizer was good— plenty of nitrogen, alfalfa meal and epsom salts; and the compost was homemade and all-natural, naturally. And the result was Tony. He was the brightest and bushiest rose in the garden. Every flower he made was exquisite, deep red; every petal was velvety soft and perfectly curled.

There were other roses. Pepper, on his right, was a very fragrant coral orange rose— Tony had to admit she smelled nicer than him. On his left was Rhodey, a dusky blue rose with a subtler, perfumy fragrance, but his blooms were the biggest in the whole garden. There was also Happy, all the way up by the mailbox, with bright yellow flowers. Of course, Rhodey and Pepper were both a good, proper several feet away, and Happy was so far Tony couldn’t quite tell what variety he was meant to be, and anyway, there was a reason red was a classic. 

However. That didn’t mean he wanted some leggy little weed taking up his resources. 

“I’ll choke you with my roots,” Tony growled at the sprout. It was the pale green of new life, but it seemed unfazed by his threat. 

“I’m Steve,” it said. “And I can do this all season.”

Much to Tony’s chagrin, the sprout did exactly that: it shot up very quickly over the growing season, although it did so with an ugly, spindly vine. Tony often wished that the human would realize the thing was a weed and just pull it already. But horror of horrors— not only did the human not do that, the human deliberately leaned Steve against him and encouraged him to wrap his creepers all over Tony’s gorgeous stems!

Rhodey and Pepper laughed at Tony’s displeasure.

“We don’t have to compete, you know,” Steve said one day. “My leafstalks aren’t hurting you.”

It was true— the creepers didn’t hurt. Steve had a light touch, and the curl of his leafstalks around Tony’s stems was gentle, even tender, sweetly wrapped around the wicked curve of Tony’s thorns. 

Still. It was the principle of the thing, wasn’t it?

“I don’t need some sucker getting all tangled around me,” Tony snapped.

Steve got very droopy after that, and Tony thought guiltily that perhaps he hadn’t needed to be so harsh. 

Tony finally broke when Steve’s leaves went from droopy to wilty; quite alarmed now, Tony decided to apologize. 

“I’m sorry I called you a sucker. I didn’t mean it. You’re not hurting me or stealing nutrients, and I don’t mind you that much at all,” he said fervently. “Please get better.”

But there was nothing for it. Steve didn’t respond and he didn’t get better. His leaves continued to wilt, went brown and crunchy, and eventually, disintegrated. His leafstalks, once green and soft around Tony’s hard stems, turned brittle and brown. Steve was quite dead. 

“I shall never bloom again,” Tony announced.

Tony spent the winter curled inward, hibernating with his grief and refuting the condolences offered by Pepper and Rhodey. They tried to tell him that Steve’s death was nutritional, a soil deficiency, or even that perhaps Steve was simply an annual. But Tony knew the truth: Steve had died of a broken heart, and Tony was determined to follow him.

When spring came, Tony would simply not bloom. The human would try, adding fertilizers and checking for beetles, but Tony had meant what he said. When he thought now of his petals, he remembered the softness of Steve’s stalks and the curl of his creepers, and the red that he favored seemed dull and lifeless when he compared it to the bright green of Steve wrapped around him.

The human would pull him up when he refused to bloom. That was fine; maybe they would take a cutting from Tony first and the new rosebush would never know anything of heartbreak or death. 

The days got slowly warmer. Pepper began to bloom, eager and glowing orange around the edges. When Tony smelled her perfume he thought longingly of the spring before and curled his leaves tighter, determined to repress the new growth on his branches.

Rhodey put out blooms as well, surprisingly small and delicate, considering how big Tony knew they would be eventually. Up by the mailbox, Tony could see the tell-tale yellow blobs that meant Happy was putting his own show on. Everything was green around him except for Steve, limp and brown in the cradle of Tony’s branches.

As Tony expected, the human began to frown at Tony as the days got longer and he still refused to bud. The human came round with the usual spring fertilizers and gave Tony an extra thorough look all over, but there was neither bug nor bacteria stymying his growth, and the human eventually sat back with a shrug.

“Tony, come on,” Rhodey urged him. “I know you feel bad, but it wasn’t your fault. You have to bloom. That’s what you do.”

Tony didn’t respond. 

“Oh, that gardener! I wish they’d just pull Steve up already; can’t they see the reminder is hurting Tony?” Pepper cried out. 

Tony hated Pepper.

The spring rains came, what felt like every other day now, soaking everyone’s roots with water. The time for stagnancy was over. 

It seemed Steve thought so too. Steve’s stalks, once brown, turned deeper green, and bright new leaves started to furl out of the stalks Tony had thought were dead. To Tony’s delight, there was even new growth— both a new, pale green creeper reaching for Tony’s nearest stem, and a new sprout curling out of the dirt.

“Happy spring, Tony,” Steve said.��

And Tony, delighted, burst into bloom. 

----

The human came outside and took pictures of Tony, its weird fleshy face gleaming with pleasure. Rhodey and Pepper both agreed it was the most spectacular bloom they’d ever seen from Tony.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Tony,” Pepper said. “And Steve, we’re so happy that you’re back. I hope you’ll be growing with us for a very long time.”

Tony loved Pepper. 

Steve grew just as quickly as he had last season. But it was better: this time he wasn’t gripping tentatively, he was twining all throughout Tony. Each time Tony put out a new bloom, Steve wrapped a new curler around the stem, caressing Tony as he flowered. And even though Tony knew objectively that Pepper’s blooms were more fragrant and Rhodey’s blooms were bigger, Steve insisted that Tony’s were the best and prettiest he’d ever seen. 

When Steve was securely inextricable from Tony’s branches, he put out a few pale green buds of his own: pointed, tear-shaped things that were tightly closed. Tony couldn’t have been more excited if they were his own, and when Steve’s buds started to open next to his, Tony nearly burst with pride and pleasure. 

Steve’s blooms were as spectacular as Tony’s. They were big, star-shaped blue-mauve flowers with fuzzy yellowish centers, and they looked fantastic intertwined with Tony’s deep red ones. 

“You’re a clematis,” Tony said. “You’re the best clematis I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shyly wrapped a creeper around one of Tony’s newest blooms, green curling around red. “I wouldn’t look half as pretty if I weren’t next to you. And that’s the truth.”

“Let’s always bloom together,” Tony said, and Steve agreed.

[ahamiltongarden]

THE LONG GARDEN IN LATE OCTOBER

The pink and yellow border scheme is most obvious here, before the presence of the blue salvia at intervals along the front of the garden in mid November. The pink scabiosa started flowering at the end of winter and is still in flower now, all due to regular deadheading. Yellow ‘Graham Thomas’ has now finished flowering along with many other roses. Soon I will need to cut back much of what you see here. There are still various lilies to come and the big mauve clematis ‘Comtesse de Bouchaud’ on the metal tower. The lavender border in the vegetable garden section of the long garden is coming out as are the new penstemons there. In the top image you can see Jenny’s pink ‘Constance Spry’ over the fence, serendipitously adding to our garden picture. The blue flowered bell clematis has completely smothered ‘Madame Isaac Periere’ this year so I will be removing it in the autumn. One strives for pleasing plant associations but I have underestimated the vigour of the clematis.

[simplyclockwork]

Prompt fic

This one is for @johnlockedinwarstan​

“I always thought it would be interesting to do a story set post season 4 where Sherlock is Irene’s best man because he was the witness at her wedding in the short story. With John all concerned about Sherlock’s “unrequited” love for her. And she hints the whole time that you know they love you right? And finally John snaps at her about making Sherlock go through all this when he is in love with her. And she looks at him like “are you kidding me? That was your wedding.”

-       @johnlockedinwarstan

Sorry it took so long to finally write this - it also ended up being much longer than I thought it would be! Hopefully you enjoy it and I met your expectations with this prompt :)

Fic below the ‘see more’ line, or can be read on my Ao3 here

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As time passed, and Mary’s death faded to a fixed historical point, shifting from a raw note of toxic loss to a reluctantly accepted fact, John found life settling into a strange semblance of ‘ordinary’ again. Or, as close to ordinary as one could get when one was best friends with the world’s only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. Alongside raising his daughter, working at the clinic, and generally moving on after the loss of his wife, John frequently worked cases with Sherlock, as much as his schedule allowed. Their friendship had returned and, while it was different from before—rougher around the edges—it was still a partnership they both placed an emphasis of importance on. Sherlock was Sherlock, he was John, and they continued on in the ways they always had; detective and doctor-soldier, two against the world.

Or so John perceived things. It wasn’t until a wedding invitation appeared in their lives—Irene Adler’s, of all people—that he began to understand that things were entirely, completely different, and only he had been the one to miss a critical understanding.

On a Friday, Sherlock called him to 221B. Bringing Rosie, John had settled her in a portable playpen in the living room—far from the experiments spread across the kitchen table—and sank into what he still considered to be his chair in front of the fire. With a sigh, he stretched his sore back and looked to Sherlock, who hovered by the window with violin perched beneath chin, ready but silent.

“Sherlock?” John prompted, after letting a long moment of quiet stretch out between them. The man at the window sighed; placed the violin in its stand and hung the bow beside it. Turning, he looked at John.

“We’ve received a letter.” He announced, picking something up from the top of the mantle. “An invitation, to be specific.”

“We received it?” John asked, reaching out to take the envelope offered by Sherlock. Their names were written on the front and, when John opened it, a heavy cardstock letter slid out. Assuming it was an invite to a case—albeit a rather fancy one—John flipped it over to read. His brows drew down into a confused frown. “A wedding invitation?” His eyes widened as he read on. “From—Irene Adler?” His tone of voice rose in surprise. Looking up at Sherlock, his mouth quirked. “Irene Adler invited you to her wedding?”

Sherlock was looking at the mantle, smoothing his fingers along the edge. He did not look at John, but his face, reflected in the mirror above the fireplace, was blank and composed.

“Yes, John,” he replied, voice carefully calm. “I am to be her best man.”

Surging to his feet, John’s hands lifted in surprise; hovered just near Sherlock’s shoulder, then dropped back to his side. “Ah.” He said, speaking slowly as he chose his words with care. “That’s—that’s good, then?” He paused, trying to gauge Sherlock’s feelings on the matter, but the detective’s face was stone-cold blank. “Right?” John added, narrowing his eyes.

Sherlock gave little away, standing in a calm, relaxed manner. He sighed and turned to John, a slight smile touching upon his lips. “Of course, John.” He replied. “It is very good. I am glad she has decided to spend her life with someone of importance to her.” His lips quirked. “Seems she is giving up the dominatrix title to settle down with that red-haired woman we thought to be her assistant.”

John snorted, remembering their first encounter with the two women, that fateful day when an American agent had nearly blown his brains out.

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten.” He said. Shaking the memory away, he looked closely at Sherlock again. “You sure you’re okay?”

Sherlock sank into his chair; folding his hands in his lap, he looked serenely up at John. “Yes, of course I am fine, John. Why wouldn’t I be?”

John shrugged, feeling a strange, flustered confusion in the face of Sherlock’s evident calm. “Well, you know, the texting…?” Sherlock’s eyebrows rose briefly and he shrugged as well.

“I never claimed that it was anything more than that, John. Yes, I said I sometimes texted her back, but it was always simple conversation, nothing more. A man can be lonely for things other than sexual attraction. Friendship can be hard to come by.” John winced at the almost imperceptible barb in his direction, but Sherlock was continuing as if nothing had occurred. “After all, as she told you herself, Irene Adler is not interested in men.” His lips quirked again. “They are… ‘not her area’, as you know.” He smiled and looked at John, for all the world entirely unperturbed by the invite held in John’s hand.

John shook his head, completely bemused. “But—you—she’s asked you to be her best man.” Sherlock nodded; hands still calmly folded in his lap. John ground his teeth but went on. “You were my best man.” Sherlock tilted his head.

“Yes, indeed I was, John. Not sure what point you are trying to make—” John cut him off with a sharp laugh.

“Before my wedding, you were a stressed out, anxious mess. You were folding napkins and texting panicked cries for help to Lestrade.” He fixed the detective with a hard look, but Sherlock was looking away now, into the fire warming the hearth. John sighed and went on. “I’m just saying—you seem strangely calm right now, but I know it was a big stress for you.” He hesitated, then rushed to add: “I’m worried it might be too much, after…” He paused, thinking back to the Sherlock of just a few months ago, sweaty and pale and shaking with a vein-collapsing high. He shook the image from his head and continued. “I’m just worried it could lead to a relapse.”

Sherlock looked up at this, his formerly unperturbed eyes sharp and flashing. “I am fine, John.” He replied, and there was a hard edge to his voice.

“But when you were my best man—” John began, words earnest; face set in lines of concern. But Sherlock waved a hand, pushing the suggestion away.

“That was different, John.” He stated, settling his hands back in his lap. John stared at him, caught off guard.

“How—” he began, and Sherlock cut him off again.

“It just was.” Looking at the fire once more, Sherlock spoke in a strange, soft voice, and John was taken aback by the flash of vulnerability in the other man’s face. He hesitated again, once more wondering if he should reach out. Instead, he settled back into his chair.

“Okay,” he replied, dropping his eyes to the letter and reading the curly writing that flowed across. “Okay, Sherlock. If you’re sure.”

Across from him, Sherlock nodded sharply. “I am.”

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The day of the wedding dawned cold and bright, the rising sun gilding frost-covered windows with gold and fire. When John arrived at 221B to meet Sherlock—Rosie already dropped off with Molly for the day—the detective was already up, drinking from a chipped mug as he perused a wall of text on the screen of his laptop. Dressed in a well-tailored dark blue suit, a pale lavender tie at his throat, his hair was crisp and brushed into a semblance of formal style. Standing in the doorway in his own black suit and red tie, John was struck by an echo from the past in the form of a mental image from his own wedding: he and Sherlock posed together for photos in matching suits, flowers pinned to their chests.

He pushed the memory away, as well as the sharp pang that accompanied it, and stepped into the flat, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Sherlock, likely having heard him the minute he had stepped through the downstairs front door, looked up without surprise, offering a small smile in greeting.

“Good morning, John.” He said easily, closing the laptop. Standing, he buttoned the front of his suit jacket. “The car should arrive soon. All set?”

John nodded, absently looking around the flat. “Yep. Rosie is with Molly and I haven’t forgotten my pants.” Sherlock snorted at the attempt for levity but did not reply. As he straightened his tie, looking out the window for the car, John cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Look, Sherlock,” he began, shifting his feet with unease. “You—you’re sure you’re all good with this?” When Sherlock turned to look at him, his face was stiff.

“As discussed, John, I am not going to relapse simply because I am called upon to participate in a wedding.” His tone was cold and sharp, and John winced. Clearing his throat again, he fiddled with the cufflinks at the end of his sleeves.

“No, I mean—I just mean, I know Irene is… I know she means something to you, and I just wanted to make sure you are okay since, you know, it’s her wedding…”

Sherlock fixed him with a steady look. “I am fine, John.” He said, and the finality in his tone left little to no room for argument. John just sighed and nodded. Looking out the window again, Sherlock announced: “the car is here. Come, we don’t want to be late.”

Nodding, John followed Sherlock to the stairs. As they descended the steps, he felt a heavy unease in his stomach. Watching the back of Sherlock’s head and his stiffly set shoulders, he hoped the detective was right.

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The wedding was set in the countryside: a flower-festooned arch wrapped with trailing ivy and clematis, both light purple and vibrant magenta; a graceful white tent, beneath which sat tastefully lace-adorned tables and chairs; pale benches cut from birch set before the arch.

John was struck by the soft, pastel essence of it all, something he had not expected from someone with edges as sharp as Irene Adler.

Finding his seat, John settled in the third row on what he assumed to be the bride’s side. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he smoothed it against his chest and looked around. Some people mingled while others were seated, like him, talking to one another in excited, hushed voices. There weren’t a lot of guests, which he wasn’t surprised about, but he was not familiar with any of them, and felt uneasy to be the odd man out. Sherlock had already disappeared to gather with the rest of the wedding party. Biting his lip, John tried to relax. But unease roiled in his stomach, and he found himself unable to stop fidgeting as worry creased his brow.

Despite Sherlock’s repeated insistence that he was fine, John was unconvinced. Perhaps Sherlock believed he was fine, but John felt there may be more to it, beneath the surface, than Sherlock was willing to admit to himself. John recalled the way Sherlock had seemed to pine when he thought Irene dead, and tried to make sense of that man with the calm, collected version he encountered today.

He knew Sherlock had feelings for this woman, dammit—why couldn’t Sherlock recognize that for himself? What if he was fine at the wedding, but the realization that Irene was truly lost to him—albeit in a very different way than believed before when she had faked her death—proved to be more than he could bear in the days after? What if he relapsed and John couldn’t pull him back from the brink this time?

On edge and fighting not to succumb to the memories the wedding threatened to drown him with, memories of his own wedding and the pain that still came with such thoughts, John shifted and fidgeted in his seat, biting at his bottom lip and picking at his fingernails.

As people settled around him, gentle harp music floating over the venue from a woman positioned to the left of the arch, he took a deep breath and tried to swallow down the panic and foreboding he felt rising within his chest.

The officiant took her place at the arch, and the harpist changed the tune to something mellowly joyful. Turning with everyone else, John watched as two women walked down the aisle, arm in arm, one in a dark blue dress, the other in a light, cream-coloured dress. They walked between the benches together, separating at the end to take their places on their respective sides. Another couple followed, separating as well at the arch.

Irene’s bride stepped out next, gripping the arms of who John assumed to be her parents. They moved stately down the aisle as everyone stood to smile and beam at them. Her red hair was done up in an intricate braided knot atop her head, and her white dress cascaded into a dramatic ball gown waist line. When she finally stepped to her place beneath the arch, she traded bright smiles with those already in position.

The music changed again and John turned to watch as Sherlock and Irene stepped into the aisle between the benches. Irene, resplendent in a strapless, plunging white gown, long black hair curled and cascading down her back, had her arm hooked through Sherlock’s. One hand resting gently in the crook of his arm, she held a bouquet of lavender and baby’s breath in the other. Sherlock looked stoic and at ease, a far cry from his stiff, panicked persona at John’s own wedding, and his full lips were curved into a pleased smile as he and Irene walked down the aisle. As they parted at the end, Sherlock leaned into kiss her cheek, did the same with Irene’s wife-to-be, and moved to his space to Irene’s left.

John’s hands clenched into tense fists and he caught his breath as Sherlock looked at Irene, a faintly wistful expression on his face. When he turned his head, eyes searching until they found John, they shared a moment in which John was struck by the severe emotion caught in Sherlock’s gaze. He opened his mouth, at a loss as to what he might do, and, in his blinking confusion, Sherlock looked away, focusing back to the ceremony.

The ceremony was short and to the point; Irene and her bride exchanged loving but brief vows. As the rings were exchanged, and each were pronounced as married, John quivered in his seat. When the officiant declared that they may share their first kiss as a married couple, he tensed his fingers against the edge of the seat, his face pale.

Irene and her new wife kissed, the crowd clapped and cheered, and John looked desperately to Sherlock, who watched with a small smile before his eyes flicked to John’s. Again, there was an intensity to the look that John could not begin to decipher, and then the two brides were smiling and everyone was hugging beneath the arch; the guests shouting and clapping as the two women joined hands and made their way down the aisle again, now as married women. John stood and applauded with the rest of the guests as the wedding party followed. He stared desperately at Sherlock, but the other man did not look over to him as he passed. And, like that, they were gone.

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John waited anxiously while the wedding party was away for photos. He tried to enjoy the reception and the decadent appetizers served, but he found himself too nervous to settle. He cradled a glass of wine in one hand and worried at his cufflinks with the other. He made small talk with several guests, but they mainly inquired how he knew the brides, exchanging small talk, and eventually drifting back to those they were familiar with. He nursed his wine until it was empty, and gratefully accepted a second when offered by a floating waiter as he continued to wait.

When the wedding party finally returned, there was loud cheering and a surge of energy. Irene and her bride swept into the tent to great applause, heading to the head table for their seats. The rest of the party, Sherlock included, sat and were quickly met with well-wishers and congratulators.

John sipped grimly at his now third glass of red wine, ignoring the swimming of his head, and waited for an opportunity to approach the table. When he finally did, it was with Sherlock at the edge of his vision while he congratulated Irene and her wife—who’s name was Kate, he remembered now—on their wedding.

Kate accepted his words with a gentle smile, shaking his hand before turning to greet another guest, but Irene seized John’s hand in hers, baring her teeth in a smile that reminded him more strongly of a great white shark than that of a blushing bride.

“Doctor Watson,” she greeted him, shaking his hand harder than necessary. “So nice of you to come. I wasn’t sure you would be able to make it.” Her eyes stared hard into his and John shifted uncomfortably. He looked to Sherlock, but the detective appeared to be engaged in deep conversation with the maid of honour. He looked back to Irene and found she had not missed his lapse in attention.

“It was a lovely ceremony, Irene.” John replied, struggling to keep his voice carefully level. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“But of course, Doctor.” Irene said smoothly, still gripping his hand. “I did not think I would be able to entice Sherlock to attend as best man unless I also invited his, ah, partner.”

Missing the underlying message in the way she stressed the word ‘partner’, John’s wine-addled mind latched onto the concept of her ‘enticing’ Sherlock. Scowling, he leaned a little closer, speaking in a low voice with a fake smile so anyone observing them might think he was merely wishing her well.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” he began, a rough note to his words. “But, to me, at least, it seems very unkind to ‘entice’ a man to your wedding that you know full well has feelings for you.”

Irene’s eyebrows rose, a momentary look of surprise on her face, before her lips settled into a hard smile.

“Ah, Doctor Watson, you do me an injustice.” Her voice shifted into a quiet timbre that matched his in its intensity. “After all—isn’t that what you did yourself, with your wedding?” At John’s stunned look, she leaned closer, lips almost brushing his cheek as she spoke near his ear. “Perhaps, Doctor, you ought to first take a look at yourself before you begin to judge others.” Moving back, she abruptly dropped his hand, raising her voice to a normal level. “Thank you again for coming, Doctor Watson. If you’ll excuse me, there are some people I must speak to.” She stood and moved away, leaving him standing with wide eyes and a dumfounded expression.

Gathering his shaken wits about him, John straightened, offering a strained smile when Kate asked him if he was okay. Evidently having missed the exchange between him and Irene, she must have noted the way his face was deeply flushed—something he felt in the way his skin burned. Reassuring her that he was, he abruptly excused himself and looked around for Sherlock. His seat was empty and John, flustered, stared wildly around the tent, stepping away from the head table. Head swimming, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a large, familiar hand landed on his shoulder. Spinning, he found Sherlock behind him, concern across his face.

“John?” He asked, peering into the other man’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” John muttered, shaking his head slightly, yet still feeling dazed. “Just—need some air.” He turned from Sherlock and made his way for the front of the tent. Walking into the open air, he moved several meters away from the tent, into the open grass. Finally stopping, he closed his eyes and sucked in cold air, feeling it only slightly clear his foggy head. Irene’s words echoed in his ears and he felt a hard panic settle over him.

What had she meant? That he had hurt Sherlock by asking him to be his best man? That inviting him to his wedding had been cruel? How could he not have invited Sherlock? He was one of the most important people in his life. Sherlock was his best friend.

John’s head swam and he felt a wave of confusion and dizziness plunge over him.

“John?” Sherlock close by with concern evident in his tone. John’s eyes flashed open and he pulled in another long breath, this one shaky and uneven. Turning, he faced Sherlock; found him looking at John with worry in his eyes and uncertainty on his brow. John stared at him, resplendent in a suit that brought out the hints of blue in his pale eyes. Struggling with the wine-induced fog in his head, John cleared his throat.

“Sherlock.” He said, speaking slowly. “How are you doing?”

Frowning, Sherlock stepped closer. “As I said before, John, I am fine, and that still stands. You, on the other hand, do not appear to be so.” He moved even nearer, placing a hand on John’s arm. “Did something happen?”

John started at the touch, shaking his head. “No—no, I’m good. Just… too much wine. And something Irene said—” the last slipped out, unintended, and he clamped his mouth tightly shut.

“Something Irene said?” Sherlock repeated, frowning again. “What did she say?”

John shook his head, too forcefully. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Never mind.” He forced a strained smile onto his face, playing for relaxed. “All good.”

But Sherlock was looking at him with narrowed eyes, and John groaned inwardly as the detective studied him with that overly-analytical brain of his. John stared back, a sinking feeling of guilt pooling deep in his gut as he remembered Irene’s words:

“Perhaps, Doctor, you ought to first take a look at yourself before you begin to judge others”.

Breath catching in his throat, John was struck with realization in the form of several flashes of insight: the way Sherlock had stood, casually relaxed, throughout the ceremony, comfortable and at ease, versus the way he stood now, anxious and uncertain. His hand, still resting on John’s arm, quivered ever so slightly.

Oh. Fuck.

Understanding hit John like a freight train, a completed picture falling into place.

Sherlock.

Sherlock—and he still couldn’t quite believe it, but the facts were there—wasn’t in love with Irene. Probably never had been. He had been causally comfortable throughout the ceremony, and John knew him well enough to recognize when such an expression was a façade.

Sherlock was not heartsick with unrequited infatuation for Irene. Whatever she had been to him, was to him, it had nothing to do with attraction beyond a friend or an equal match.

John had made the mistake of judging Sherlock’s actions along the basis of ‘different’ from others; had put him onto a pedestal that separated Sherlock from normal human emotion. But he was that, a human, a man, and if John looked at him as such, Irene’s words echoing through his head, he realized what he had missed.

The looks. The touches. Hesitations; gentle hands when Sherlock had taught him to dance for his wedding. The uncertain pain John had seen in Sherlock’s eyes when he told John and Mary there was a baby on the way; the gentle way he played with Rosie and let John catch up on sleep; the way he had looked John in the eye as he played a beautiful, self-composed melody for his and Mary’s first dance as husband and wife. Sherlock, leaving the wedding silently and without saying good-bye. Sherlock’s best man speech, unique and strange, but heart-achingly sweet.

“It’s always you, John Watson. You keep me right.”

Sherlock, as he stood now, uncertain and expectant, hand trembling minutely upon John’s arm.

By putting Sherlock on a pedestal, then placing him as the cause of Mary’s death, John had lost sight of something he had only wondered at before that fateful day on Bart’s roof: exactly what they were to one another and how they had always seemed inextricably connected; brought together; two halves once more made whole.

He had not been able to address such thoughts, not then. Sherlock had ‘died’, returning 2 years later to find John in a relationship, preparing to propose to Mary. Then the marriage, and Rosie; John’s anger and Mary’s untimely death. Their time at Sherinford and the mental anguish they both had struggled with in the aftermath.

They had not had time to explore or recognize what they were to one another since, and John had still been reeling from the raw loss of his wife. They had simply fallen into a rough semblance of their old lives, the old camaraderie, this time struck raw and strange by the history between them.

John’s head swam, vision doubling, and he felt he might be sick.

“John?” Sherlock called his name, bending to look into John’s eyes with evident concern.

“Sherlock,” John gasped, the sheer confusion of the moment rendering him vulnerable and uncensored. “Are you in love with me?”

Sherlock jolted; snatched back his hand and stared at John. His expression was both wounded and stunned, and his wide eyes flashed with reproach.

“Excuse me—why are you asking me this, John?” Sherlock’s voice was rough and uneven; John noted a tic stating to jump along the edge of his jaw.

John hesitated; felt a sick jolt in his stomach at the way Sherlock glared at him with a harsh look of confused hurt. Licking his lips, striving for bravery, John stepped forward, into Sherlock’s personal space. The other man leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing, but did not move away.

“Sherlock…” John’s voice dropped, and he glanced over the detective’s shoulder. People were mingling inside and in front of the tent, but no one was near enough to hear them; no one was even looking their way. Oh, but wait, that was not entirely true. John spotted Irene, standing just inside the tent. She appeared to be taking to someone, an old man in a burgundy suit, her face animated and gently smiling. But she was facing their way and John could clearly feel the burn of her eyes upon him.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Sherlock; they stood so close to one another that John had to tilt his head to see into the detective’s face. Sherlock stood like a statue, eyes fixed somewhere over John’s shoulder, jaw stiff and clearly clenched.

“Sherlock—” he began again, and Sherlock’s chin jerked up, his eyes finally dropping to John’s face. They were dark, blazing; Sherlock’s lips were drawn into a hard line.

“What, John?” He snapped; his voice was heavy with enmity. The force of his ire made John flinch, and he almost stepped back; almost dropped the subject and let it all go. However, if he was right, he knew this needed to happen—that there were things that needed to be said. So he stood his ground; went so far as to fumble for Sherlock’s hand, gripping harder than he needed. The other man twitched at the unexpected contact but didn’t pull away.

“Answer me, Sherlock.” John said, and his voice was pitched low; fervent with the need to know.

Sherlock remained silent, staring down at John. His eyes still burned, but the rage seemed to have dissipated. He looked both helpless and desperate, and John felt guilt ripple through him again.

Sherlock didn’t need to speak, because the answer was staring John in the face; had been evident for ages, right before and despite John’s ignorant eyes.

“Bloody hell, Sherlock… why didn’t you ever say anything?” John demanded, and he could hear the sharp edge of reproach—and hurt—in his own voice. Even as he asked the question, he ground his teeth together; knew the question was all but rhetorical because he knew the answer.

Of course Sherlock never said anything. Not to ‘I’m not gay’ John Watson. Not to ‘we’re not actually a couple’ John Watson. Not to ‘will you be the best man at my wedding, you great, pining, brilliant man, because I am an idiot and an awful friend’ John Watson.

And definitely not to ‘I’ll blame you for my wife’s death after she saves your life to make up for almost killing you before’John Watson, followed by ‘I’ll kick the shit out of you while you writhe helplessly on the floor, dying a slow death of drug overdose because I can’t face my own feelings’ John Watson.

Covering his eyes, John sighed.

“Because I am a bloody idiot, and how could you possibly tell me anything?” John muttered, shame and self-reproach forming into a hard, heavy ball within his chest. “In your immortal words, Sherlock, I see, but I do not observe.”

He felt Sherlock’s hesitation, thick in the space between them, before he felt his hand, moving to rest on John’s shoulder.

John paused, uncertainty weighing down his shoulders, then dropped his hand from over his eyes. He looked up at Sherlock; found him looking back with rapt eyes and slightly parted mouth. Without hesitating, without thinking, John stretched to his tip-toes; raised his hands to Sherlock’s upper arms and closed the distance between them. With Irene Adler’s eyes burning into his skin, John pressed his lips to Sherlock’s, letting his eyes slide shut at the contact between them.

Sherlock was still for a moment, hot breath against John’s face, before his long arms enfolded John; pulled him into his chest as he sank into the kiss. They stood like that, locked together in a moment all their own, as seconds spun out around them, ticking away unnoticed and unheeded. Sherlock’s lips were soft and warm against his own and his arms were solid around John’s back.

When at last they parted, John felt his face was flushed and hot, and he noted the pink hue high upon Sherlock’s cheekbones. They looked at one another in a moment of silence, before Sherlock smiled and John let out a surprised giggle. When Sherlock pulled him close again, John’s cheek pillowed into the other man’s bony shoulder, John caught Irene’s eye from where she stood, now alone, outside the tent.

The look she aimed towards them, and the eye roll she sent his way, clearly meant ‘it’s about damn time, you idiots’. Sherlock’s curls tickled against the side of his face, and John couldn’t help but smile.

[jelantiahilma]

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GARDEN NOTES (personal)

September 22, 2019 (first frost expected in a few days)

Flower of the year- Mallow - need 2 or 3 more in side shade bed in front of hollyhocks. -Beautiful all season long.

FRONT FLOWER BED- Don’t let daisies take over. Hostas? More mid-summer blooms. 

Super Early Spring - Violets, Queen of the Night Tulips, Then Checkered Lillies. Early Spring- Columbine, Bleeding Heart. Late Spring - Peonies, Daphnie Shrubs Summer - Daisies, Poppies. Later Summer - Stella D’Oro Lilies, giant lily on corner. -Spiderworts- from Early Spring to Late Summer.

DECK-

Nasturtiums - from seed, only white and maroon. (Day and Night Mix) - No Yellows and Oranges on the deck next year.

Include:

Lots of Borage - easy to grow from seed - collect seeds this fall.

Chives - in medium pot- has reseeded consistently. 

Snap Dragons

Fuzzy light Purple flower I can’t remember the name of - blooms all season.

Flowering Maple - Attempting to overwinter inside. Likes Second hanging basket on the sunny side.

Pansies- In long flower box in front.

Heliotrope - only likes the shady side of the front deck. Attempting to overwinter giant one and 2 small ones in bedroom.

Tomatoes- Husky Cherry Tomato- very compact, early fruit, abundant.

Early Girl - in large pot in corner. early fruit - not super flavorful but early and abundant. 

Morning Glories and Moon Flowers - in larges pots. on deck and back trellis. plant seeds early.

Fuchsias- outside kitchen window got perfect light and water with deck drip system. Buy more plugs from Marchie’s and put in triple hanging basket on dark side of deck. - Try to special order blue fuchsias. attempting to overwinter.

Large Pots - Morning Glories, Moonflowers, early girl tomatoes, yellow pear tomatoes.

Medium Pots - Husky cherry, Datura, Brugmansia (Keep on pedestals to protect cats.) Peppers, Borage, Basil, try Artichokes, Lettuce did well and had no bug damage.

Small Pots - Fuzzy Purple thing (full sun,) Pansies (shade),  Four o’clocks, etc.

Sun Hanging Baskets- Vervain (purple)

Don’t try to grow eggplants in containers. Don’t grow onions on the deck. In early spring, drip system set to 5 minutes a day. In Summer, switch to 10 minutes a day. All sprinklers in backyard set to 20 minutes a day. 

UNDER BEDROOM WINDOW BED - Add a Japanese Maple. 

HOLLYHOCK BED - no Brassicas - not enough light and bug problem. Add 2 rosa woodsii, 3 mallows, 10 hollyhocks to fill out back and corners. Try to spread Motherwort. No Elephant Ears - bulbs didn’t sprout until very late. Add Primroses to front. Add more mid-season bloomers. Add cornflowers, pansies, snap dragons, and four o’clocks. Dill reseeding on right side.

FOXGLOVE BED - keep as is. Spread Foxgloves to other side of gate.

Around Ft. Peck - Sugar Snap Peas, snow peas, and Kentucky Wonder Beans in separate giant pots - more towards shade. Don’t forget there’s a hops plant in sun area. Kale and nasturtium in front of peas and beans. 

Don’t grow tomatoes from seed. They are successful, but it’s easier and ultimately cheaper to get them at Lowe’s.

Tomato varieties - Yellow Pear - highest performance (though it was in the most ideal spot.) Mr. Chocolate Stripes? my favorite flavor. Give good spot to next years. Super Sweet 100 - Ed’s favorite for flavor - prolific and very sweet. Chickens also love. Early Girl Bush Tomato- excellent production early ripening on deck. Grew well in large pot on deck. Lemon Boy - excellent production with ripe fruits mid season. Juliette - delicious and pretty but did not turn red during growing season. Cherokee Purple - too ugly and not very tasty - don’t plant next year.  Husky Cherry - only needs medium pot - prolific, delicious, earliest ripe.

MAIN GARDEN -

Birdhouse gourds barely made fruit by first frost.

Mini pumpkins did the best.

giant pumpkin did not fruit in time.

Zucchini and cucumber - did okay but not amazing.

asparagus - 2nd year. - lived and look like dill growing around lilac tree.

decorative gourds - only 2 tiny fruits by first frost in side bed.

Back row -  back trellis. - No big squash. Giant spaghetti squash is too much for it. - do mini pumpkins next year.

Middle Row - tomatoes only. 

Front Row - Eggplants.

No Basil in main garden - bugs and needs more water. grow a lot more on deck. Cilantro don’t forget to grow on deck this year.

nasturtium and marigolds in and around.

Squash - need spot in middle of yard - . Haven’t seen any butternut squash come to fruition. Get legit Dill’s Atlantic Giant. Mini pumpkins growing very well-- perhaps add to back row next year. 

SIDE GARDEN - Need more heavily composted. Only one back row. Perhaps save for climbing kiwi plants. Maybe green beans or peas.

FULL SUN HERB BED - sage, thyme, lemon thyme, oregano, lavender - all coming back. Spring - queen of the night tulips. Sweet William. - no room to add anything else.

Barrel - chocolate mint

Old BUNNY PARADISE - regular mint. John Creech Sedum. Strawberries. - make burning bush area graveled. Make border bed of strawberries with stepping stones. Put up mason bee house near that area. Make mud area for mason bees. chocolate mint in barrel.

MOSTLY SUNNY FLOWER BED - back row clone of grandma’s red climbing rose, Bolero pinkish white rose. Hazelnut tree, Serviceberry, Olympiad red rose, All-American Pink rose. Front -Red Patio rose Oregano, thyme, Primrose, Lupine, Cosmos, Phlox - stop trying to grow artichokes and other vegetables here - bugs are too bad. Next year - add larkspur to back row. More primroses. - extend along back trellis.

Between flower beds - jefferson filbert, native spirea? - think it needs more sun or something. Looks crappy in the mid-summer. 

BACK TRELLIS AREA - Maple, Rowan, Chokecherry, 4 giant thuja. 5 silvervine climbers. Honeysuckle. - Maybe try Clematis. - not liking any other area in the yard. added bluebird rose and light pink rose.

bittersweet nightshade - super poisonous but pretty - should rip out in case chickens try to eat.

start indoors- borage, nasturtiums, four o clcoks, giant pumpkins

Datura - no more either giant white or small purple -- too dangerous with all the animals around - hard to keep control of.