#hugo trains in the dark forest in his dreams

[gayleafpool]

hugo and donella are like crookedstar and mapleshade

[whiskyarts]

hugo trains in the dark forest in his dreams

You say this as a funny haha but what if warrior cats au and Hugo learns about the dark forest and that's where he meets Donella and gets his quest to stalk Varian and everything ties together because the reason Donella is in the dark forest (dead) has to do with Varian's mom killing her oooo

[milkmateartist]

HEAVENS Black Garden English Translation 【 Main Story Pt. 1】

[ --- I do not own Black Garden, HEAVENS, Utapri, or any of the characters. This is a fan translation using a combination of google translate and my own japanese knowledge --- ]

// Translated by MilkmateArtist

-------------------------------------------------

▽ = Speaking / Speaker

A deep forest covers the clear sky.

The air here is a little cooler than what's normal for the seasonal temperature.

The surroundings are quiet with only the noise of the trees and my footsteps.

▽ You

Is it really this way?

The continuing trail ahead of me looked more like an animal trail. It would be uncomfortable to even call it a road.

Anxious, I dropped my eyes down to the letter.

A letter that arrived to me even though I had no relatives.

It stated that I had the right to inherit the legacy of a person who claimed to be my paternal grandfather.

I lost my parents early and didn't know my grandfather, let alone his relatives.

Invited by the letter, I was now visiting the land mentioned there.

It was a place rich in nature called the "Heavenly Forest".

Everything I saw was shining.

▽ You

Maybe that is it over there...?

In an open area, there appeared to be a beautifully made road and an iron gate.

The gate is locked.

(A) Give up and go home

(B) Try calling out

(C) Break the lock

(A) Give up and go home

▽ You

There is no sign of anyone around, and there is no way to ask.

I have no choice but to give up ...

I went back the way I came and returned to my usual life.

BAD END

(B) Call out

▽ You

I'm sorry! Is anyone there?

I shouted out loud. Behind the gath, the path led further back, and I could see a bit of the shadow of a house.

Maybe they will notice?. However, there was no reply.

CONTINUE

(C) Break the Lock

I picked up a stone that had fallen nearby and swung it down at the key.

▽ You

Eh……?

The stone rolled off the hand without hitting the key.

My head hurt like it was burning, and my vision went red.. I had no choice but to fall into the place without power.

BAD END

CONTINUE:

Next I tried to push the gate.

▽ You

It's no use, but I'll keep trying. I wonder what I should do now.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from a nearby tree.

A person jumped from the top of said tree.

▽ You

!! !!

▽ Hugo

Who are you? What business do you have at the mansion?

I could see that he's well trained from his large body and mannerisms,

▽ Hugo

Hey, answer my question.

▽ You

…… My name is (___). I got a letter and was invited here.

I answered frantically while under the pressure from his force.

▽ Hugo

(___) ?

▽ You

Yes....

He brought his face closer, staring at me with a sharp look.

▽ Hugo

Nope! I haven't heard of you. You're pretty suspicious..

▽ You

Eh?!

▽ Virgil

Hugo, calm down. This person is a client. Moreover, they should be treated politely.

A man came running up from behind and got in between us.

▽ Virgil

I'm sorry, I seem to have surprised you.

With a concerned expression on his face, he bowed his head politely.

▽ Virgil

Hugo's job is to keep an eye on the area around the building since he's the mansions gatekeeper. Don't think too bad of him.

▽ Hugo

……Hmph.. I'm going to go look around. Take it from here.

▽ Virgil

I'm Virgil, the coachman of this building. I was supposed to pick you up, but there seems to have been a bit of a misunderstanding.

▽ Virgil

I apologize for the inconvenience, but you allow me to escort you to the mansion?

He extended his elbows as if he were dealing with a lady.

I was nervous, but followed him..

▽ Virgil

We have a short way to walk until we reach the mansion. Even someone whose familiar with the place can get lost.

▽ You

It's a very large area.

Even after walking for a while, I couldn't see the whole view of the building. I feel that the world they live in is different from my own.

▽ Virgil

Especially at night, it's pitch black, so it's dangerous. It's rumored that *things* come out around then.

▽ You

!! !!

I gasped, involuntarily making a large gesture.

▽ Virgil

Ah, that's a good reaction. You're cute, so I can't help but play around a bit. It's just a rumor!

▽ You

…… Oh, okay.

But it was true that there were dark places, that were black even in the daytime.

It's no wonder that something could lurk inside it.

▽ Virgil

Ah, we arrived!

Passing through the stone gate, there was a large mansion towering over it.

▽ Mika

Oh~ You're here~.

A child popped out from the entrance. He came down the stairs and stopped in front of me.

▽ Mika

I will guide you from here! Now go away Virgil!

When I took my arm from Virgil, he double-took as though he wanted to hug me.

▽ Virgil

Mika is pushy as always. But as many times as I say it, it doesn't matter.

He shrugged and went on, still somehow cheery in his tone.

▽ Virgil

I'll leave the rest to you. I'm going to the stables to check on the horses. I'll see you later.

▽ Mika

By the way, again ... I'm Mika! I'm working here as a messenger boy.

▽ You

Messenger ... Boy?

I tilt my head, puzzled. It's a profession I'm not too familiar with.

▽ Mika

I take letters from my master and deliver them to other peoples residences, and vice versa. Also, I'm so cute, so I'll be asked to accompany people when I go out.

The owner of this building must be a fairly high-ranking person.

▽ Mika

Leave the area to me, let alone this mansion!! I'm very on top of things, so I know everything.

He probably has a lot of opportunities at his job to come into contact with a lot of different thing.

▽ Mika

Indeed, I even know about that letter you have! My master told me that I went out to the town.

▽ Mika

I'll call Abel, so wait a bit here!

That said, Mika disappeared into the front door.

Left behind, I stopped in front of the big door at the front entrance.. Looking closely, I was amazed at the size of it. .

(A) Observe the mansion

(B) Look into the window

(C) Wait as told

(A) Observe the mansion

I walked around the mansion, drawn to the splendor of the building.

▽ You

I've never seen such a nice house. I wonder if this is also in the inheritance of the heritage ...

When I gently touched the wall, the cool sensation seemed to tell me that this was not a dream.

▽ You

Oh, I want to know soon!

I was thrilled by the glorious life that would be waiting for me.

I thought I heard a loud noise, the next moment, a shock ran to my body.

A part of the dilapidated building collapsed and fell heavily on me.

I can't breathe and I can't move one finger. I feel like I heard someone's voice in the distance, but then I couldn't hear it anymore.

BAD END

(B) Look into the window

I turned to the large window above the front door.

▽ You

!! !!

What I saw for a moment through the gap in the curtain was a devil with a terrifying appearance.

An indescribable horror struck me and I fainted.

When I woke up, I was in a small dark room.

There is no way to know how much time has passed. I was paralyzed.

I was just helpless, wrapped in darkness and waiting for the last moment.

BAD END

(C) Wait as told

I did as I was told. While waiting, I heard an energetic voice from the other side of the door.

I don't know what they were talking about, but I recognized Mika's voice.

He was probably explaining my presence.

The door opened and showed his face, smiling.

▽ Mika

He said you can come in!

I nodded and stepped inside.

▽ Abel

You've arrived, (___). . I'm Abel. The person who is entrusted with this mansion.

▽ You

Nice to meet you…….

▽ Abel

The owner of the mansion wants to extend hospitality to you. Please think of this as your home and relax.

▽ You

Thank you. Um ... may I ask you something?

▽ Abel

Oh. I'll answer to any question.

▽ You

The letter said that the owner of the museum was my grandfather, but what was he like?

▽ Abel

Is that so? I'm sorry for this. There is no way he could have written that. He is still alive.

▽ You

Oh is that so ...!

▽ Abel

He is on a trip now and away from the building. He was very concerned about whether you would respond to the letter.

▽ Mika

He was worried that you wouldn't come to see him.. Because you haven't been in contact for a long time.

▽ You

Above all, I am glad that you have done your best for me. I want to meet him in person and talk.

▽ Abel

Its best to relax until the master returns. You can use this building freely.

Feel free to use this large mansion ... What a luxury! Just thinking about it made me excited.

▽ Abel

However ...

▽ Abel

Do not enter only in the garden at night. Absolutely ...

He spoke in a soft voice up to that point, and my spine froze.

▽ Mika

……Oh... Oh yeah, That's right. I'll go call Keith. See you.

Mika looked frightened and ran to the back of the house as though to escape from something.

▽ Abel

It's dark at night and it's dangerous because the beasts come out. Of course, it's not easy to get in.

Before I knew it, things had returned to the original calm atmosphere.

▽ Keith

...... I made you wait.

▽ Abel

You're here. This is (___).

▽ Keith

...... I'm Keith. ……Nice to meet you.

I waited for his next words, but apparently this was the end of his self-introduction. He seemed to be the quiet type.

▽ You

It's nice to meet you.

▽ Abel

Keith is a servant of the master. He is also an escort and is a very reliable man.

I wondered if the sword on his waist was for escort too..?

▽ Abel

Keith, could you please guide them through the mansion? I have office duties from now on.

▽ Keith

……Yeah..

He nodded, extending a hand to me and we started walking.

▽ Keith

…… where to.. ...... Is there a place you're interested in?

(A) Somewhere to relax

(B) Somewhere fun

(C) A secret place

(A) A place to relax

▽ You

Where does everyone go to relax?

▽ Keith

……this way..

There was an open space beyond the entrance, with a large sofa.

▽ Keith

……the hall. Here ... people often talk ...

The light came in and there was a warm atmosphere. When I tried sitting on the couch I sank in, feeling how high quality it was.

▽ You

I might just wind up telling a long story now

CONTINUE

(B) A place to enjoy

▽ You

What do you enjoy doing during your breaks?

▽ Keith

...... Enjoy, huh? Not much ... entertainment around but...

Thinking about it a bit, he stepped forward. There was a quiet place in the basement.

Opening the door revealed many books. inside.

▽ Keith

Doing research ..., reading aloud ... Besides books, there are also games.

▽ You

Wow! With all of this there will never be enough time

CONTINUE

(C) A secret place

▽ You

Since this is such a huge mansion, is there a secret place? It's like a room that doesn't open.

Without thinking I curiously asked. Keith's eyes glistened.

▽ Keith

There is…….

▽ You

……!

▽ Keith

...... no such room.

▽ You

Ah, I- I figured....

I then saw at the end of the corridor that there was dim passage.

As I approached, I saw a staircase leading upwards. It was dark, and I couldn't see how long it was.

Strangely anxious, I stepped up the stairs as though they were sucking me in.

▽ You

Ah-…….

I couldn't understand what was happening.. A red stain was spreading at the soles of my feet.

▽ You

W..Why…….

Those were my last words.

BAD END

CONTINUE:

I was guided through the hall. There were various rooms, all of which were luxuriously constructed.

▽ Keith

There are still more rooms ... But I must not.. tire you out.

▽ You

Is there still more! ?? From the looks of things I think I can go on..

▽ Keith

You don't have to rush ... There is a lot of time ...

He smiled as he looked at me with my eyes rounded. Seeing that smile made me happy we were getting more acquainted.

▽ You

Hey, that sword is pretty neat. Is it for self-defense?

What I had been worried about for a long time just kind of spilled out of my mouth.

▽ Keith

This ...?

He touched the sword that hung from his waist.

▽ You

Yeah, I'm asking about what it's used for....

I swallowed words on their way out. Acutely my body froze up and I couldn't move.

Keith's eyes became sharp and sparkled with a suspicious light.

▽ Keith

………….

I thought he was going to silently take out the sword from the sheath, but in an instant he thrust it at me.

▽ Keith

It's a cursed sword that seeks the blood of a young maiden. ...... Should I try it out?

He had a cold expression holding no emotion.

▽ You

Eek ...!

▽ Keith

……just kidding.

With that said, he rotated the handle of his heavy sword and put it back in its sheath.

▽ You

Ha, haha.... That was something.

The tension released at once, and I sighed loudly.

▽ Keith

I'm sorry ... I seem to have surprised you.

Seeing his clumsy smile, I understood this was his odd way of interacting with me.

▽ Eric

Hey, Keith. Can you taste the food for me? I think I did a good job!

A young man ran up with a smile.

▽ Eric

You are...! Could it be...

He corrected his posture, astonished when he noticed me.

▽ You

I'm ( ___ ), . The person who came here after receiving a letter.

▽ Eric

( ___ ), It's a nice name. I'm Eric. Nice to meet you.

A bit shy, his cheeks went pink and he bashfully looked down.

▽ Eric

About that, ... I was cooking for you. I hope you like it.

▽ You

Thank you!

▽ Eric

Ah, it's not a big deal at all. I was a little unsure because I made a special menu that I haven't all that often.

▽ Keith

Do not worry. Eric's food is ... always delicious.

▽ Eric

Is that so? I'm happy you say that. That's not all, I'm also in charge of cooking.

▽ Eric

Have you met everyone else yet?

▽ Keith

They have not met Simon....

▽ Eric

Simon should be in the garden at this time.

▽ Keith

Eric ... It would be good if you took them ... I will continue the cooking.

▽ Eric

Really ? I still have a lot of supper preparations left.

▽ Keith

It's fine……. You're able to convey the charm of the garden better as a gardener.

▽ Eric

All right. Thank you, Keith. Well then, let's go.

▽ Eric

It's better to go to the garden from outside the building. We will use the back road, it's a detour from where we are now.

Leaving the mansion, we walked side by side on the road leading to the garden.

▽ Eric

The roses are in full bloom this time of year, so I really recommend seeing them!

He spoke with an excited gesture. . I could tell he loved the garden from the bottom of his heart.

▽ Eric

It's breathtakingly beautiful. I see them everyday but I find myself visiting. I often have tea with my friends there.

▽ You

Friends……. What kind of relationship do you have with everyone? It's nice being close.

▽ Eric

I'm a colleague, but it's like we're a family. I've lived here together since forever and we're always by one anothers side.

I was very envious of that kind of family relationship since I had no relatives.

▽ Eric

Oh, Abel ... He's my real brother. So he's actually family.

Now that I think of it, it seems their hair and eye colors are similar. But their personality and energy are completely different.

▽ Eric

We'll arrive in the garden soon.

▽ You

Um……. I heard that you shouldn't enter the garden at night. Why is that?

I tossed out the words I've been contemplating for a while after asking Abel.

▽ Eric

...... Who, did you hear from?

Eric stopped.

▽ Eric

Who ...? Hey ...?

I was grabbed by my shoulder and interrogated. The energy he was giving off made it feel like he was a different person.

▽ You

…… M-, Mr. Abel.

▽ Eric

What my brother says is absolute. Don't go against it ... absolutely.

With a serious look, I nodded deeply.

▽ Eric

Haha. I thought you would understand. Well, we arrived.

After passing through the aisle, there was a grand "paradise".

The calm garden, full of flowers, praised the beauty of the world.

▽ You

Beautiful ...

▽ Eric

Right? I'm glad you liked it. But I can't find Simon.

I looked around, but there was no sign of anyone.

▽ Eric

He should be taking a nap somewhere in the garden, so let's split up and find search.

▽ You

Okay!

We split up and started looking for Simon.

(A) Search behind the tall hedge

(B) Search in the flower field

(C) Search the boundary between the forest and the garden

(A) Search Behind the tall Hedge

▽ You

Is it behind this hedge ...?

It was a good hiding spot since it was as tall as a person and provided good shade for a nap.

I looked behind, but no one was there.

CONTINUE

(B) Search in the Flower Field

▽ You

He must be in a flower field.

It felt like If I slept surrounded by these beautiful flowers, I'd have a good dream.

Pushing my way through the flowers, only butterflies took off and there was no harvest.

CONTINUE

(C) Search the boundary between the forest and the garden

▽ You

Maybe he's further out.

The back of the vast garden was adjacent to the forest. Maybe there was a good place to take a nap in the woods, like under the shade of a tree.

I went deeper and deeper in.

( -----JUMP TO SIMONS ROUTE------)

CONTINUE:

▽ You

Where are you ...

Distracted by the surroundings, I tripped in the grass.

▽ You

Kya!

Falling forward, I landed in a bush.

▽ You

This is…….

There was a small space in the bush that allowed me to get up, and in that place there also was a young man with transparent white skin.

▽ You

Are you Simon ...?

▽ Simon

Who are you ...? Why are you here ...

He curled up as if frightened, and bore the color of hostility in his eyes.

▽ You

I'm ( ___ ), I'm sorry to have surprised you.

▽ Simon

( ___ ) ……. The Lord's relative?

Most likely being explained to in advance, Simon looked relieved.

▽ You

This is a warm and comfortable place huh. It's very relaxing.

▽ Simon

Oh……. Do you understand too? A feeling of being gently wrapped in nature .... It seems to awaken a memory of before being born.

His expression was ecstatic and his eyes were shining. I could tell that he had a pure and straight heart.

▽ Simon

Oh ... what a wonderful day. I will once again enjoy the splendor while feeling the vibrations of the earth ....

Then he gently closed his eyelids.

▽ Simon

Zzzz …….

▽ You

Simon, don't sleep!

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him but it didn't help much.

▽ You

Eric was looking for you..

▽ Simon

...... Eric was ...?

▽ Eric

I found you! So you were here huh.

Eric looked into the bushes.

Suddenly, the low roar of thunder sounds.

A black rain cloud cast a shadow over the clear blue sky.

▽ Eric

The weather is going to change, so let's go back to the mansion.

We quickly left the garden.

---------------------------------------------------

Go to Black Garden English Translation Directory here for more routes.

[hp-nextgen-fest]

2020 HP Next Gen Fest Reveals!

The time has finally come for the 2020 @hp-nextgen-fest reveals! Thank you so very much to everyone who has made this fest such an amazing success! We were incredibly impressed with the overwhelming enthusiasm you all have for our favorite Next Gen characters. Everyone who submitted stories and art, and those who read, reviewed and recced: You guys are amazing!! It's been really great seeing everybody's fantastic creations, and we hope you all enjoyed the fest as much as we did! Without further ado, here's a list of all the amazing participants who worked so hard to create fabulous things for this year's fest!

ART

@miakagrewup drew AcciDental Magic [Rose, Hugo, & Grandparents | General] Hermione and Ron are called away for a case and left without their usual child-minder when Molly falls ill. Hermione’s parents step up to keep Hugo and Rose, in spite of Hermione’s warning that the two little ones have some big issues with accidental magic. The story is told comic book style, with illustrations and voice bubbles.

@eleonorapoe drew Woke up married! [James Sirius/Teddy | General] They get well and truly bladdered at Albus's stag do and wake up in bed together with matching wedding bands...

@mad1492 drew Sunday Practice [James Sirius/Teddy | General] Teddy thought that morning practice on Sunday was going to be something he would soon regret, but things may turn more interesting than expected.

@julcheninred drew Introduction [Albus, Severus, & Albus Severus | General] Albus Severus Potter gets to know the men he's named for by asking them about the experiences, memories, and motives that shaped their lives.

@garmrr drew Eyecandy [James Sirius/Teddy | General] After months of extensive Auror training, Teddy comes with the Potters to the beach. James. Cannot. Stop. Staring. At. Teddy. Shirtless.

FIC

@cassiaratheslytherpuff wrote We Keep Loving Anyway [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 7.1k] After Albus finds out Scorpius is part vampire he can’t stop thinking about being bitten. He can’t stop thinking about Scorpius in general, but that’s been the case since he was fifteen. At least, when it comes to Scorpius he’s used to not getting what he wants. He’s happy with what he has, or at least, comfortable. That is until he accidentally asks for it, then it all starts to change.

@polly-darton wrote The perks of Veritaserum [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 5.1k] James drank a long-lasting version of Veritaserum and is miserable and Teddy is having the time of his life. That is, until they’re both having the time of their lives.

@gracerene09 wrote Thunderstruck [Charlie/Teddy | Explicit | 2.6k] There’s not a lot for dragon tamers to do when stuck inside during a storm, but looking at this particular new recruit―well, Charlie can’t help but think of a few ways they could pass the time.

Quentin_threepwood wrote Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Mature | 1.7k] Away on a book tour Albus Severus Malfoy grows a very creepy mustache, much to the horror of his still at home husband Scorpius Malfoy.

vitruvian8008 wrote Mission in Nairn [Draco/Lily Luna | Explicit | 7k] Lily Luna Potter is paired with Draco Malfoy for her first Auror Mission. On their last night, she decides to act on the lingering tension that had been building up between them.

@nerdherderette wrote No Other Alpha But You [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Explicit | 7.1k] Scorpius Malfoy has applied to be Albus' heat partner. There's no way James is letting that happen.

@aneiria-writes wrote The Scorpion King [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 3.8k] Scorpius Malfoy, AKA the Scorpion King, has ruled Britain ever since his father turned his sights to conquering Europe. With his right-hand man and most trusted advisor, Albus Potter, Scorpius has a life of elegance and power. But he's had enough of the beautiful women that usually grace his bed. Scorpius has decided he wants something else in bed. Something more. Scorpius Malfoy wants Albus Potter.

@motherofmercury wrote Islands of the Upper Air [Lily Luna/Luna | General | 1.5k] Lily Luna has never liked her namesake, or her strange and sometimes absurd way of looking at the world. But a weekend full of ancient rituals and mountain forests is an eye opener, in more ways than one.

@shipperysails-bookofspells wrote Expecto Patronum!! [James Sirius/Teddy | Mature | 45.7k] James Potter had always known exactly what he wanted; to open a pub of his own, maybe travel the world, and live a simple life with the only man he’d ever loved. For years he waited, quietly determined to help Teddy see what could be between them. But just when everything he’d ever dreamed of was finally within his reach, it was ripped away in an instant. With Teddy missing, and presumed dead, James is left to pick up the pieces. John has no idea what he wants. He doesn’t even know who he is. But when he hears a strikingly familiar voice – on an otherwise ordinary day – he sets out to discover everything he can about the man that occupies his dreams. And Harry, well, Harry just wants to put his failures behind him. Until a series of unexpected events forces him to reexamine a case that he’d given up on solving. With the help of an unexpected ally, he just might find the answers he’s been looking for.

@lovealpenglow wrote lily's potter [Lily Luna/Lysander & Lily Luna/Draco | Mature | 8.3k] "But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?” She took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.” Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?” “Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”

@micheleblack wrote Snaked a Claim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Teen | 1.6k] Everyone knew Albus was gay from age five when he would dramatically swoon every time Goncalo Flores the Quidditch player was mentioned. Twenty years later and Harry still tells the tale - much to Al’s embarrassment.

@ladderofyears wrote And I Fell Heavy (Into Your Arms) [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 9.1k] When James Sirius Potter travels to America for three weeks, the turquoise-haired Healer Teddy Lupin misses his boyfriend very much indeed. Luckily, Teddy has (sexy) floo calls, charmed obsidian pendants and hastily made chastity promises to keep him busy. Based on the following prompt: Absence makes the heart grow fonder... Right? Smutty phone!sex? Longing letters? All up to you!

@veelawings wrote Dirty Duelling [Albus Severus/Draco | Explicit | 6.1k] Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (Or — fucked up Dirty Dancing with wand fights)

@eleonorapoe wrote Albus’ Private Lesson of Sex Education [Albus Severus/James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 4.5k] Albus has some doubts about sex. Luckily he has an older brother, who can initiate him. How does this lesson go? James will be the teacher, Albus his good and obedient student and Teddy will be more than happy to serve them as a learning tool. In which a delicious Teddy sandwich is served.

@faeheyjesper wrote Four Reasons [James Sirius/Teddy | General | 8.1k] There were a couple of things James should've considered more seriously before coming back to work at Hogwarts as the new Flying Instructor. His dad being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there, for one. The fact that he hadn't really flown since a career-ending injury had put an abrupt end to his Quidditch fame two years ago, for another. His ridiculous, teenage crush on Teddy Lupin, his friend and Hogwarts' newest Charms professor, perhaps most of all.

@26timesbrighter wrote An Interlude [Lavender/Victoire | Explicit | 4.9k] Victoire is supposed to be chasing a serial killer, not shagging her uncle’s dead ex-girlfriend.

@drarryruinedme7 wrote Mint & Apples [Harry/Teddy | Explicit | 4.3k] Teddy Lupin's not-quite-wolf has chosen Harry Potter as his mate, that's all. He hasn't got a crush on his best friend's father, really. He also definitely isn't obsessed with Harry Potter's scent.

crazyparakiss wrote This is Love [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 24.8k] Most of Albus’s bad life decisions can be summed up in a word: James. When he got a shitty tattoo in the Fifth Year—done by some bloke in a dirty flat—well, that was James’s idea. When he got picked up by Aurors for doing hallucinogens—James was the one who’d convinced him to do them at a party. That time they stole the flying motorbike Dad gave to Teddy—James was the one who insisted it was a rite of passage to drive it over London at dawn. Neither Dad nor Teddy was impressed with that explanation. Now, here Albus is living another bad choice that was born of James’s influence.

@gaeilgerua wrote The Balance Between Studying and Relaxing [Rose/Teddy | Explicit | 3.7k] Rose has been studying non-stop for her upcoming barrister exam. With Hermione attending Hugo’s Quidditch trials for moral support and Ron away on business, there’s only one person available to keep an eye on her. And Teddy is only too happy to take the role.

@r00wscribbles wrote The last ones to know [Albus Severus/Scorpius | General | 5.2k] Albus and Scorpius have a very close relationship. Everyone can see it. Perhaps they are the last ones to know jus how close they are.

@ohdrarry wrote You've Got A Second Chance (You Could Go Home) [James Sirius/Teddy | Teen | 16k] “What about James?” James, dear Merlin, not James, not again. His boy, his son, the brightest star in the constellation of Harry’s patchwork family, not him. “I think he’s relapsed.” – They tried this when James was nineteen and Teddy was twenty five. It crashed and burned. Teddy ran away to Finland and James... well Teddy's about to find out what happened to James, now that he's back two years later.

@maraudersaffair wrote Falling for You [James Sirius/Scorpius | General | 1.2k] Scorpius didn't care about Quidditch until he saw James Sirius on a broom.

@diligent-thunder wrote Heart-Shaped Ottoman [Draco/Teddy | Explicit | 6.3k] Draco has had interns before, but none so bothersome as Teddy Lupin.

@whenshereads wrote Living With Our Eyes Half Open [James Sirius & Scorpius | Teen | 5.5k] James didn’t mean to get his brother-in-law kidnapped alongside him that morning, but that is definitely what happened.

@shiftylinguini and @gracerene09 wrote Faim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 9.6k]  "So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack. Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird Or: Scorbus go to France.

@articcat621 wrote Unexpected [Lily Luna/Pansy | Explicit | 1.2k] Draco and Harry's engagement party brings about an unexpected, but not unwelcome, event.

@fidgetyweirdo wrote Remember to Forget [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Mature| 17.5k] The moment they kissed, James and Albus knew that they'd never be able to live without this -- too in love to walk away. Years later, and well into adulthood, the possible repercussions of their relationship feel very real and very scary. Without the strength to break it off, they're left with a single solution: a company that specializes in erasing and altering memories. Now the only thing left to do, is to say goodbye.

[theniftycat]

🛰️- what’s the most poignant image you remember from a dream?

Looking into a mirror and seeing my face. Until then I’d often be surprised by my reflection, but afterwards I became used to it seemingly overnight.

🕹️- what video game(s) hold the most nostalgia for you despite no one else feeling the same way?

Jungledyret Hugo. I don’t think many people remember this game, but we had it on our pc in a small Siberian town somehow. It was in the late 90s, who knows how games were shared back then.

🍀- do you believe in luck or fate? do you think we can influence our luck/fate?

It’s a doubleedged sword, I think I only actively believe in them when I need them, but then they also have weird ways of working. I guess I haven’t died yet despite all the odds, but finding the world chaotic is genuinely healthy in my case.

👤- what would you say is your symbol?

At this point it’s probably a cat.

🛡️- what would be on your coat of arms?

I feel genuine envy towards this one.

⚔️- are you the kind to bare your teeth or the kind to draw your blade?

I WILL bite.

⚖️- do you believe in karma? how far will you go to get it?

What does getting it mean? And no, there’s no cosmic scale imo.

🌼- do you believe in games like they love me, they love me not?

They are fun. I also like tarots sometimes. But I don’t believe fortune telling.

👻- do you believe in ghosts, superstition, the paranormal, or the occult? do you believe in witchcraft? to what extent?

I’m very boring, so, no. At the same time, there are places that command respect and weird shit happens sometimes. I don’t care to be 100% rational all the time, so, you won’t see me screaming at a cemetery, even if I need to.

🕶️- what is your fashion sense? what does fashion/style mean to you?

I love colours and things that make me look alive. I don’t prioritise fashion, but it’s fun to play with it.

🕸️- would you be nervous walking alone in the dark? why?

Depends on where. In big cities it’s fine. On badly lit narrow streets it isn’t. Plus, I hate going out at night in our summer house, but it’s mostly because of the cold.

😷- are you afraid of illness?

Not when it’s passing.

🤕- are you afraid of pain?

Yes, 100% hate it.

🌇- breezy mornings or humid nights?

Breezy mornings.

🐞- fireflies or ladybugs?

Fireflies.

📚- what book(s) can you never stop rereading?

None, I rarely reread stuff, mostly two times if it’s a really good book. But then good books are often hard to get through, especially for the second time.

📖- do you prefer reading digitally or on paper?

When I have a physical book, I remember it exists.

📻- what radio station do you listen to most often?

Mayak, because my dad listens to it in his car.

🚪- how long has it been since you opened up to someone?

I’m generally kinda open, but there are things I won’t talk to about to anyone.

🎇- how long has it been since you thought you might overflow from anger or stress?

Not that recent, but maybe this year?

🐈- do you find more comfort in animals or in people?

They bring different comfort. I’ll snuggle with a cat and have a laugh with a person.

▶️- what is a song that made you cry/gave you chills when you first heard it?

It never happened to me on the first time, but Mika - Sanremo had me crying within 20 minutes of relistening.

🌱- is there a song that changed you in some way?

Benjamin Clementine - Condolence comes to mind.

🌲- pine trees or aspens?

Pine.

🎶- what song do you think best sums up your outlook in life?

Emilie Autumn - One Foot In Front Of The Other Foot 

🔇- are you a whisper in the darkness kind of person or a comfortable silence kind of person?

Comfortable silence.

🌌- what are some themes in your dreams?

Very compelling fantastic narratives that I can’t come up with irl.

🌿- moss growing on trees or lichen growing on rocks?

Lichen.

🏞️- mountains or forests?

Forests.

❣️- how long has it been since you told someone you loved them?

I told my cat today.

📽️- what is your favorite trope in media?

I love when people care for each other.

🎠- what is one thing from your childhood that you remember for no real reason?

Pretending to be asleep when my cousin was awake.

🎒- satchels or tiny backpacks?

Satchels.

📞- how long has it been since you called someone? what was it for?

I called the pension fund today, they didn’t answer. I wanted an appointment.

💌- what do you think it would take for you to fall in love?

Kindness and humour, a good smile and sparkly eyes.

🔖- how do you bookmark your pages?

I use random things sometimes.

🎈- do you feel like you and the person you were in the past are the same?

I don’t feel disconnect, but I also changed.

🗑️- what’s something you never had the courage to say?

The feelings I had are never completely gone.

💫- what makes you lose your train of thought?

I have ADHD, so, anything can.

💐- what is something you think of as a romantic gesture?

A good meal. Travelling. New fun experience.

🌹- what phrases seem romantic to you?

Thinking about future together.

🌸- what nicknames/pet names seem romantic to you?

I like personal nicknames that are not understood by others.

🥀- what makes you drift apart from people?

Lack of conversation topics.

🔥- what makes you angry the fastest?

Needless bossyness.

⚡- what makes you tense?

When others are tense and angry.

❄️- what gives you chills?

I won’t lie, unexpected noises at night will do it.

💧- what makes you cry?

More things than before. I hate when animals die. I hate being aware of how closeted I am.

🌈- what tends to make you step back and appreciate things?

I’m trying to do it a lot. So, anything nice, really.

[haunting-misery]

The Arcana - Outsider: Ch.1

Strange was the only word that could describe the world. Though I lived a life far from civilization; I still learned what existed and how to survive, traveled to many different towns and experienced many things. The most common thing I have ever seen was magicians doing what they have trained for most of their entire lives, magic. Given the offer of being taught magic before, but I declined with the feeling of it possibly removing my parent's teachings of hunting and harvesting. That's what did during my traveling was hunt and harvest for food along with essentials, having two mouths to feed; mine and my dark brown fur colored pet mink, Faunus. Whom people don't notice that he's with me until I say his name, he pokes his head out of the fabricated burrow of my cloak's collar; which gives people a fright for his dark brown is almost as dark as my black hair, helping him hide well. There was no place for me to go and each town didn't feel right to settle down, all felt the same until being told by another traveler about a city that was different from the other cities. It was thriving back to life after suffering from a terrible plague and gaining its freedom again from the death of a Count who ruled it with an iron fist. It had its fair share of magicians and average villagers but no one of my kind; adding that it could be something new and exciting for me. The traveler kindly helped me find a map to the town and showed me the best way to get there; told me the travel was going to be long but if I took the route they drew on the map for me, I would get there soon. I took the idea and began my travel to the town, many days and months passed as I traveled since I was going on foot. Did a few stops in other cities to get supplies and from the forests nearby as well with sleeping in them, even spare some time to spend with Faunus to get out all of his energy so he won't be restless as we travel. Believe two months have now passed and have made it halfway through the route. I looked at the map and began estimating how many days it would take for me to reach the town, so far an estimated four or at least five days until I arrive. So far three days have gone by, I'm getting through the fourth day and getting close. About half of the day has gone; it's now nighttime with a couple more miles to go, but my tired feet were now aching in pain. My exhausted body grew tired. I decided to stop and make camp for the rest of the night, stopped and gently sat down on the dirt road to give attention to my feet. Rubbing them and the sound of wooden wheels against the dirt caught my attention, looked behind me and saw the faint glow of lantern light in the distance. Proceeded to rub my feet as I heard the sound get close, then suddenly it stopped next to me; a man's voice spoke to me. "Excuse me, dear, are you alright?" I turned and faced the direction of the voice; it was a villager in a two horse-driven wagon. Appeared to be much older than me, particularly at the old age of still seeing other people my age as children. "Yes, I'm alright. Just stopping and resting for the night." answering his question. "Resting for the night out here? That seems quite dangerous." Having an expression of possibly looking at a madwoman. "It's okay; I have protection." I point to my bow and quiver of arrows with my hunting knife in its sheath as I talk. "I can see that, but what about being attacked during your slumber?" I can see the concern in the man's face; he does have a point, I don't know what animals lurk in this forest and brings questions to my mind. The man's voice breaks my thoughts. "Tell you what, for the safety of your well being and to ensure me that you won't end up injured or worse dead. How about I give you a ride to where you are going." "Are you sure?" "I insist, my wife will understand the reason for my late return home and it would be better for a young girl such as yourself." "How much will the ride cost?" That is one thing I worry about I'm trying to save as many coins as I can. "No need to pay me, dear, besides I get enough payments already." "Alright then." I walk up to the man's carriage and hoist myself up onto the driver seat; the man holds out a hand for me to help walk safely to the spot next to him and I sit down. After getting comfortable in my seat, the man gives a gentle shake of the reins with a click of his tongue and the horses begin moving again. "So, what's your name dear?" He spoke as to try and start up a conversation. "Demeter, Demeter Chase." "Hugo." He replied. "Where are you heading off to?" Hugo asked. "A town called "Vesuvia'," I replied. Hugo chuckled before he spoke with a smile. "What a coincidence, that's where I live. You plan on living there?" "Don't know, going to see how it is first." "Well, I think you're going to love it dear. Lots of people do." Me and Hugo continue our conversation as the wagon drives down the road, Hugo telling me everything he knows about the town and the history of it. Time passes as we chat until I fall asleep and can feel Hugo's eyes on me then his gaze leaves me before I go into the land of dreams. Hugo's P.O.V Demeter is a sweet girl with good manners and respect; surprised to see a young girl like her out in the forest at night and I could easily tell that she wasn't from around the area of town. Having long straight hair of the darkest black that I have ever seen and hazel eyes accompanied with light tan skin, freckles from across one cheek over the bridge of her nose to the other side of the other cheek. The short right-sided parted bang of her hair covered one of her eyes as she slept with her head down. Though she is sleeping, Demeter looks much younger than she appeared when she was awake. Still having the face of a young woman but with the youthfulness of a child; I could easily mistake her for being my own. When I saw her face as she turned in my direction when I first spoke to her, she looked quite tired and made me question how far or how long was she walking. By the two satchels and basket, she was carrying. It appeared that she was traveling, I wonder how far she journeyed to get here. Maybe I will ask her when she wakes up; by the time I reach the gate to Vesuvia, it's already the crack of dawn and sees that Demeter is still sleeping. I decided that it couldn't hurt to let her stay at me and my wife's home to rest until she wakes up, for she would have a place to stay and not be on the streets. I get through the gates and travel across a bridge to the central city area to the island that holds the marketplace, make it to my home. Bring in the wagon and along with putting the horses into the stables; the door leading into the house opens, my tired wife stands in the doorway. "Hugo, you're home." my wife says in a tired voice, followed by a yawn and continues. "But why so late?" "I was offering some help along the way." pointing at a sleeping Demeter as I talk. My wife looks at her. "Who is that?" "Her name is Demeter Chase; she's a traveler who was heading here, I offered her a ride for her safety." "Her safety? What happened?" My wife responds with concern in her voice. "She was planning on sleeping in the forest, but I couldn't bear not knowing if she was going to be alright out there or not." "She fell asleep during the ride; I thought it was best she spent the night here." After hearing what I said, my wife smiled at me proudly. She has always been proud of me for helping other people and being generous to them. "Well, I'm glad you did. Heavens knows what could have possibly happened to her if she spent the night out there." My wife responds. I unpack the load in the wagon with the help of my wife and put it in storage. When we're done with unloading and storing, I carefully carry Demeter off the driver seat and into the house. Brought her to the guest room and laid her down on the bed, my wife took off Demeter's bow, quiver and hunting knife holster while I pulled the covers over Demeter. My wife sets the weapons on the bedside table and the two satchels with the basket on the outer side of the table, we both walk out of the room quietly and shut the door. My wife heads off to bed while I get ready for bed and soon join her.

[thirtysixsavefiles]

for the guessing game - how about "time"? :D

Holy shit, anon, I would not have guessed it but time shows up 26 times in my wips. :O

Under a cut because this is super long.

(WIP Guessing Game)

(Blood of the City part 5), rhack

Jack rushes to reassure him that he hadn’t, of course not, and that it doesn’t change anything between them - that’s a lie of course, but Rhys appreciates the effort, distantly. He can’t look at Jack right now so he rolls over and stares at the wall. It’s a long time before he hears Jack’s breath even out into sleep, and even longer before Rhys slips under himself. His dreams are full of silver and green.

Intervallum, rhack

Because the truth is that Jack is just about as bad at walking away as Rhys is, apparently. He hasn’t quite been able to forget the kid, despite what passes for his better judgement. It’s not anything so sappy as being lovesick - Jack knows better - but despite the fact that Jack can count on one hand the number of times they’ve met, Rhys seems to have taken up permanent residence in the back of Jack’s brain. It’s like an itch just out of reach, an urge left unsatisfied.

Initium, rhack, nsfw

He’s got Vaughn, of course, and Vaughn is supportive but he doesn’t really get it. (“If this is what having a sex drive does to you I’m glad I don’t, bro.”) It doesn’t help that Rhys can’t really explain what made Jack so compelling. It’s not quite the way Jack talked to him - “no offense, bro, but he kind of sounds like a dick,” - although it kind of is. It’s not entirely the way Jack touched him - “whoah whoah, file this under ‘things I don’t need to know’“ - although it’s partially that as well. Rhys still wakes up sometimes in the middle of the night, short of breath and with stained boxers, with the purr of Jack’s voice echoing in his ears.

He doesn’t really have Angel anymore. Although they’re slowly patching over the hole Rhys put in their relationship, he knows that things are never going to be quite the same. Angel doesn’t drop by Rhys and Vaughn’s place anymore, and Rhys has stopped trying to sit next to her in class. There’s an ache where she used to be, and Rhys hopes that time will fill that in so he doesn’t feel quite so guilty when he thinks about her.

(Kushiel’s Dart AU), rhack

And then Jack’s up and out of the bed, grabbing a robe and running for the door and Rhys scrambles after him, shrugging on shirt and pants, and he makes it to Angel’s room just in time to see Jack slit another assassin’s throat from behind just outside the door. The wash of blood bathes Jack’s hands in red, and he drops the body and slams the door open.

…

In time, Jack returns to the court, with Rhys by his side. Angel welcomes him warmly, but does not offer him a place behind her throne. That hurts Jack, Rhys can tell, but Rhys doesn’t blame her.

The In-Between, Life After the Fall AU, rhysothy

“How often does this happen?” Tim asks quietly as they wait for Rhys to wake up. It’s clearly not the first time Vaughn has dealt with the ghost of a dead man in his best friend.

Vaughn scratches his beard. “It depends. Sometimes he’ll go for weeks without a hint of - of anything. Other times, well…stress makes it worse. Worry makes it worse. And there’s enough of that to go around and then some.”

Deeper Than Skin, Street Rat AU, rhack

Jack has his back to the room, mapping out unclaimed territory with the help of a runner as the others filter in to his office. Rhys is there, of course, sitting in the window and playing with his knife, ready to listen and learn. Jack’s proud of the kid - he knows when to keep his mouth shut, but he’s got a brain like a sponge, soaking up what Jack has taught him and applying it in ways that surprise even Jack. He’s come to rely on Rhys’ perception, and Rhys spends more and more time in Jack’s office, attending high-level meetings where he really has no place except for the one that Jack says he does.

Hollow Moon, rhack

By contrast, crossing the meadow between the village and the edge of the forest seems to take no time at all. It feels like he’s barely left the last barn behind before he’s entering the shadow of the trees, and as he passes into the forest gloom he turns for a minute, looking back behind him. The village looks very small. Rhys is struck by a sudden sensation of vertigo and he puts his hand on a tree to steady himself.

This is the last time he’s ever going to see those buildings. He never got to say goodbye, didn’t get to take anything with him. Hugo didn’t bother to give him any supplies; Rhys supposes he’s not supposed to need them.

Refund, Uncharted Fake Dating AU, Sam/Rafe

Sam pulls up his bank account late one evening and spends a long time staring at the available balance. It’s a large number, larger than it’s been for a long time - maybe ever. The numbers blur in front of Sam’s eyes and and he closes them and rubs his forehead, trying to will away the beginnings of a headache.

He’s in his own apartment, for once. Over the past several weeks it seems like he’s spent more time at Rafe’s than he has here; more time than can really be explained by the need to keep up their cover story.

(Untitled Uncharted Threesome) Nate/Rafe/Sam, kinda nsfw

“Okay. Just remember you can back out at any time. No hard feelings.” Sam bumps Nathan’s shoulder with his own as he turns. “See you inside, little brother,” and then he’s gone, and Nathan’s left with a decision to make. The fire escape’s right there. He could hop the railing, and not even have to face his brother or Rafe until tomorrow. Sam and Rafe can carry on as they have been, and they can all just pretend this never happened, that Nathan hadn’t agreed to this - this lunacy.

…

Sam halts with his face inches from Rafe’s and Nathan’s breath speeds up. He can’t - his brother doesn’t take orders well, generally, and Nathan has a hard time believing he would in this context. Sam doesn’t move for a moment, but when Rafe just raises an eyebrow at him Sam sighs and lifts his hands in surrender, stepping back and sinking to his knees, hands settling on his thighs and eyes trained on Rafe. Rafe holds his stare for a moment, then turns his gaze to Nathan and Nathan’s pulse jumps again.

“I said ‘on your knees,’ Nathan,” and although Rafe’s tone is gentler this time it’s no less demanding.

…

“No,” Rafe repeats, gentler this time. “This is our show, for now.”

(Untitled Uncharted Pirate AU) Sam/Rafe

Sam sits back. “I can, of course I can. It’ll take time, though,” he says thoughtfully. “Time you’ll be spending here, in my cabin. I’m sure we’ll get to know each other very well,” he adds, folding his arms and smirking. There’s no way Rafe can miss the innuendo, and that’s usually enough to get people to cave, but -

…

That’s all right. The more time Rafe has to think about his predicament - the more time he has to stew - the better. Sam’s seen it before: the rich, spoiled son of a magistrate or judge or some other government official who doesn’t quite believe that the world doesn’t center around them. Rafe has the air of someone who’s never been touched by more than a mild inconvenience; hours alone, to let the situation really settle in, does wonders for that kind of attitude.

Sam takes his own evening meal with the crew, and spends some time with the steersman going over the new course. It’s well after dark by the time Sam makes it back to his cabin, and as he unlocks the door light glimmers beneath it.

[chimepunk]

What novels or book series would you recommend?

oh fuckin boy dude so many. 90% of what i read is either gay or scifi/fantasy or both, and some are technically for a younger audience but still great, so thats what most of this is which hopefully you’re cool with here goes

this got super long so i’m putting it under a cut. bolded titles are the ones that i’m super recommending, though i love them all

novels

the coldest girl in coldtown by holly black - vampires! a trans character! a bi character! one of the most novel approaches to vampires in fiction that i’ve seen! 10/10 would recommend

the darkest part of the forest by holly black - again, holly black is one of my favorite authors. this one’s got faeries (the proper vaguely unsettling kind that i’m all about) magical music, girls embracing their sexuality, girls being knights, interesting sibling dynamics, and a super cute m/m pairing

les miserables by victor hugo - ok yeah, it’s like 1400 pages long and historical fiction, but i love les mis a lot ok. it’s gotta be on this list just because it owns my ass. it’s like a old drunk french man trying to tell you about the june rebellion but he keeps getting distracted by things like people’s personal lives, the intricacies of the parisian underworld, and how much he wants to fuck the sewers. it’s wonderful

the night circus by erin morgenstern - magical circus that mysteriously appears for days at a time and then vanishes? a competition between young magicians drawn out for years? a wide variety of fascinating side characters? (i will say that the synopsis available for the book is somewhat misleading, as it’s actually less about our two protags and more about the circus itself. but that’s what makes it so enchanting)

the song of achilles by madeleine miller - retelling of patroclus and achilles story to be explicitly romantic. will make you feel like you’re floating on clouds and then rapidly crush your soul. sort of a happy ending? but it’s still a tragedy. their ending is the same as it was in the illiad so if you’re not prepared for that then maybe don’t read

good omens by neil gaiman and terry pratchett - a demon who’s not very good at being a demon and an angel who just wants to collect his books in peace thank you very much try to sabotage the end of times. absolutely hilarious

fairy and folktales of the irish peasantry by w.b. yeats - the best collection of irish faerie stories by one of my favorite poets. if you like creepy and tricky faeries i would def recommend checking these out

rootabaga stories by carl sandburg - another collection of folktales, this time inspired by the american midwest. kinda weird, kinda zany, very neat

the poison eaters by holly black - a short story collection of faery stories that are sometimes creepy, sometimes touching, sometimes gay. my personal favorite is about a library science student who finds a book collection where the characters come out at night and interact, but they’re all really great

series:

alex rider adventures by anthony horowitz - teenager gets recruited by MI6 as a spy, has incredibly high success rate, gets pretty fucked up along the way but damn those one liners tho, maybe have some self preservation alex? just a thought

all for the game by nora sakavic - about a fake sport called exy that’s kind of like indoor lacrosse but more violent. contains: crime families, found families, an aspec protag, girls kicking ass, unhealthy levels of sass, wonderful slowburn m/m that you can’t even see coming for a long while, and a happy ending for everyone!! i came for the gays and ended up reading all three books in two days. also you can get the whole series for less than five bucks on kindle! (note: tw for rape, physical abuse, torture, ptsd, child abuse, drug use, alcoholism, some use of slurs, mentions of past self harm, mental illness)

artemis fowl by eoin colfer - more faeries, but this time they live underground and are way more technologically advanced than humans. the first book focuses on our anti-hero trying to catch one and steal their gold, and they quickly become allies and solve faerie related cases together!! one of my favorite series growing up, and i cried in the middle of the hallway at school when i finished the last book

camp half-blood series by rick riordan - does rick riordan write a lot of mythology books? yes. do i love them all? yes. neurodivergent kids! kids from a huge range of racial and ethnic backgrounds! queer kids! collect them all! ft. greco-roman mythology and a lot of stupid jokes

emelan series by tamora pierce - ok this is easily one of my favorite series of all time. non-western high fantasy setting (picture greece/turkey, china, tibet, mongolia, scandinavia, etc type settings), following four young mages who have unique kinds of magic as they train and grow their skills and become powerful in their own right. only one of the kids is definitely white (jury’s still out on sandry), one is a lesbian, one is ace, one is pan, all four are raised by a loving f/f couple, body diversity, one of the best found families i’ve ever read, feminism, discussion of racism, classism, cultural identity, war, and so much more. it’s so so good and so under-appreciated please read all of the emelan books 

the dark is rising sequence by susan cooper - full disclosure i have not finished this series yet but i’ve re-read the first book a million times. it’s a neat take on arthurian mythology, with dark forces trying to take over and kids getting shit done

diviners by libba bray - psychic teenagers in 1920s new york! i’m a slut for prohibition, but these are also super fun and have likable and real characters, and doesn’t only focus on wealthy white people having parties which is nice. the occult! government conspiracies! historical references! genuinely scary situations! it’s rad!

the enchanted forest chronicles by patricia c. wrede - i adore this series so so much. it’s about a princess who’s father keeps telling her that she can’t have hobbies like fencing or cooking or conjugating latin verbs because they’re unladylike and insists that she marry this doofus prince that she couldn’t care less about. so she runs away and volunteers to work for a dragon and proceeds to send away all the princes that try to rescue her. it’s genuinely funny, has a really neat magic system in the later books, great female friendships, cats, dragons who have no time for your gender roles, and wizards who are the most ridiculous group of antagonists you will ever see

the infernal devices by cassandra clare - i really really do not like the author of this series but it also broke me so it must go on the list. if you’re familiar with the mortal instruments or shadowhunters on freeform, it’s set in that universe in the 1870s in london and it’s very steampunk and very angsty and it made me cry a lot

the kane chronicles by rick riordan - see: camp half-blood series but egyptian

fablehaven by brandon mull - oooooh fuck me up i love this series. this is another one meant for slightly younger readers but all of brandon mull’s series are so wildly imaginative and i’m a slut for world building so. the premise is basically that there are secret preserves all over the world that house magical creatures, and five of these preserves have vaults with artifacts that when brought together make a key to this massive demon prison. an evil society called the society of the evening star is trying to get the artifacts to open the prison, and a different group who is allied with the preserves called the knights of the dawn is trying to get to them first to prevent this from happening. there are dragons, light and dark powers, crazy convoluted vaults to get through, and some really cool creatures and characters

beyonders by brandon mull - this guy again! this one’s about a parallel world called lyrian that people on earth can only get to through small liminal windows, and usually can’t get back through. the story follows two kids, jason and rachel, who get stuck in lyrian and end up becoming major members of the resistance against the evil emperor maldor. just like fablehaven, the world building is insane and you’ll fall in love with all the characters. this is yet another series that made me cry in the middle of class when i finished it

the kingkiller chronicle by patrick rothfuss - this is series is long as all fuck and the last book isn’t out yet but it’s my #1 favorite series of all time. i found out about it bc a cashier at a local grocery store held up the line to write it down for me and i never went back. parts of it are achingly, hauntingly beautiful, other parts are hilarious enough to leave you in stitches, others make you want to pull your hair out. there’s sass, recklessness, beautiful and deadly girls, an overwhelming love and emphasis on the importance of music and storytelling, magic that’s more like science, ethnic adversity, student loans, a thing that might be a cow or might be a dragon depending on who you ask, and more quotable lines than you could dream of. the audiobook by nick podehl is also fabulous, and lin manuel miranda is producing and adapting it for the screen and maybe stage at some point in the future!

a modern faerie tale by holly black - guys. i love holly black. almost everything she’s ever written is on this list. this one is fairly self explanatory by the title, but it’s gritty and dark and has those lovely creepy faeries that she’s so great at writing. also a surprising m/m couple in the last book, both of whom are characters in the other two installments. (tw for drug use/addiction, brief sexual assault, and probably other things that i can’t remember right now)

the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater - also in my top 3 favorite series of all time, i cannot begin to describe this series. i first read it while up in the nc mountains which improved the experience to a surprising degree, but it’s stuck with me for the last several years. basically 5 teenagers go in search of a dead welsh king, but along the way there is magic, psychics, ghosts, a sentient forest, dreams becoming reality, curses, teenage shenanigans, classic cars, swearing, church, kisses and not kisses, illict hand holding, a baby crow, bisexuality, a death list, hitmen, and nicknames and it will consume your heart before you know what’s happening to you (tw child abuse, implied sexual assault, substance abuse, dissociation, mentions of past suicide attempts, body horror, gore, and disturbing scenes esp. in the last book)

six of crows by leigh bardugo - a team of criminals band together to break into an impossible fortress, fall in love, con an entire city, and get rich. set in the same universe as the grisha trilogy (which is also good but not as good as soc), this is basically a heist followed by a con, but pulled off by ruthless teenagers and with the help of magic

curseworker trilogy by holly black - crime families, magic that can only done through touch so everyone wears gloves, moral ambiguity, and a twisted romance. one of holly black’s best and most underrated series

baccano! by ryohgo narita - this is a japanese light novel series which has been adapted into an anime, but is much more extensive in print. the plot is extremely convoluted, but an absolute ride spanning several centuries, although the bulk of it is in the 1930s in nyc and chicago. there’s an elixir of immortality, crime families, trains, a solipsistic assassin and his mute assassin gf, serial killers, a demon with a catch phrase, murder, explosions, adorable couples, gambling, a gang leader named jacuzzi who is always terrified, killer corporations, and much much more

no.6 by asuka asano - another japanse series, this time focusing on two boys, one who grew up in a utopian city, the other who grew up outside the walls after the city destroyed his life. they meet when they’re 12 years old, and several years later, they’re reunited when the outsider rescues the city boy from arrest. they, along with a pimp and a nonbinary dog hotel owner, try to expose and overthrow the government. also ft. drag performances, mice who like shakespeare, killer bees, and boys falling in love.

the merlin saga by t.a. barron - my favorite take on arthurian mythology, chronicling merlin as he comes into his power. there’s a vividly magical island, giants, amulets, talking trees, stones that will try to swallow you, a swamp witch, celtic deities, huge wicker hats, poetry, new kinds of fruit, people that are also deer, and human’s long lost wings.

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Flower Quotes

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• A clever man without wisdom is like a beautiful flower without fragrance. – Leonardo da Vinci • A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin. – H. L. Mencken • A family is a place where minds come in contact with one another. If these minds love one another the home will be as beautiful as a flower garden. But if these minds get out of harmony with one another it is like a storm that plays havoc with the garden. – Gautama Buddha • A flower blossoms for its own joy. – Oscar Wilde • A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love. – Max Muller • A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it. – Dogen • A flower is not better when it blooms than when it is merely a bud; at each stage it is the same thing — a flower in the process of expressing its potential. – Paulo Coelho • A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking; but even a solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it. – Vita Sackville-West • A fox is a wolf who sends flowers. – Ruth Brown • A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in–what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars. – Victor Hugo • A kiss, when all is told, what is it? An oath taken a little closer, a promise more exact. A wish that longs to be confirmed, a rosy circle drawn around the verb ‘to love’. A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear, a moment of infinity humming like a bee, a communion tasting of flowers, a way of breathing in a little of the heart and tasting a little of the soul with the edge of the lips! – Edmond Rostand • A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers. – Eddie Cantor • A weed is but an unloved flower. – Ella Wheeler Wilcox • A weed is no more than a flower in disguise. – James Russell Lowell • A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over. – Honore de Balzac • Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o’er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last? – Letitia Elizabeth Landon • All beings are flowers blossoming In a blossoming universe. – Soen Nakagawa • All my life I have tried to pluck a thistle and plant a flower wherever the flower would grow in thought and mind. – Abraham Lincoln • And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch’d by the thorns. – Thomas Moore • Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough. Not only have I found that when I talk to the little flower or to the little peanut they will give up their secrets, but I have found that when I silently commune with people they give up their secrets also – if you love them enough. – George Washington Carver • Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day – like writing a poem or saying a prayer. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Art is like a border of flowers along the course of civilization. – Lincoln Steffens • Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers – and never succeeding. – Gian Carlo Menotti • As a lotus flower is born in water, grows in water and rises out of water to stand above it unsoiled, so I, born in the world, raised in the world having overcome the world, live unsoiled by the world – Gautama Buddha • As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them. – Henry Ward Beecher • As well as any bloom upon a flower I like the dust on the nettles, never lost Except to prove the sweetness of a shower. – Edward Thomas • At my age flowers scare me. – George Burns • Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. – Albert Camus

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Flower', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_flower').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_flower img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Be like a flower that gives its fragrance even to the hand that crushed it. – Ali ibn Abi Talib • Be like the flower, turn your faces to the sun. – Khalil Gibran • Beauty is but a flower, which wrinkles will devour. – Thomas Nash • Before the flowers of friendship faded friendship faded. – Gertrude Stein • Break open A cherry tree And there are no flowers; But the spring breeze Brings forth myriad blossoms. – Ikkyu • By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. – Rabindranath Tagore • Can we conceive what humanity would be if it did not know the flowers? – Maurice Maeterlinck • Dear common flower, that grow’st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold. – James Russell Lowell • Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light. – Theodore Roethke • Don’t give your loved one a flower, because it too has a loved one! Let the flowers live! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Don’t wait until people are dead to give them flowers. – Sean Covey • each separate flower has a magic all its own. – Myrtle Reed • Earth laughs in flowers. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Even if you think the Big Bang created the stars, don’t you wonder who sent the flowers? – Robert Breault • Even in a minute instance, it is best to look first to the main tendencies of Nature. A particular flower may not be dead in early winter, but the flowers are dying; a particular pebble may never be wetted with the tide, but the tide is coming in. To the scientific eye all human history is a series of collective movements, destructions or migrations, like the massacre of flies in winter or the return of birds in spring. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • Every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody. Every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy – Robert Green Ingersoll • Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature. – Gerard De Nerval • Every soul is to be cherished, every flower is to bloom. – Alice Walker • Flowers always have it – poise, completion, fulfillment, perfection . . . – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul. – Luther Burbank • Flowers are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty out values all the utilities of the world. If dandelions were hard to grow, they would be most welcome on any lawn. – Andrew Mason • Flowers are as common in the country as people are in London. – Oscar Wilde • Flowers are happy things. – P. G. Wodehouse • Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts. – Sigmund Freud • Flowers are the beautiful hieroglyphics of nature with which she indicates how much she loves us. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe • Flowers are the Romeos and the Juliets of the nature! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into. – Henry Ward Beecher • Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow. – Antonio Porchia • Flowers feed the soul. – Nazr Mohammed • Flowers grow out of dark moments. – Corita Kent • Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others are plain, honest and upright, like the broad faced sunflower and the hollyhock. – Henry Ward Beecher • Flowers have spoken to me more than I can tell in written words. They are the hieroglyphics of angels, loved by all men for the beauty of their character, though few can decipher even fragments of their meaning. – Lydia M. Child • Flowers never emit so sweet and strong a fragrance as before a storm. When a storm approaches thee, be as fragrant as a sweet-smelling flower. – Jean Paul • Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. – John Milton • Flowers really do intoxicate me. – Vita Sackville-West • Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity. – John Ruskin • Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. – D. H. Lawrence • For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant! – Edward Abbey • Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes – every form of animate or inanimate existence, leaves its impress upon the soul of man. – Orison Swett Marden • From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity. – Edvard Munch • Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its fragrance on the desert air. – Jane Austen • Full many a flower is born to blush unseen. – James Joyce • Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all. – John Greenleaf Whittier • Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.- Walt Whitman • God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars. – Martin Luther • Gold is the gift of vanity and common pride, but flowers are the gift of love and friendship. – Franz Grillparzer • Gratitude is a flower that blooms in noble souls. – Pope Francis • Happiness is the natural flower of duty. – Phillips Brooks • Happiness radiates like the fragrance from a flower, and draws all good things toward you. – Maharishi Mahesh Yogi • He is happiest who hath power to gather wisdom from a flower. – Mary Howitt • He who is born with a silver spoon in his mouth is generally considered a fortunate person, but his good fortune is small compared to that of the happy mortal who enters this world with a passion for flowers in his soul. – Celia Thaxter • Hope is the only bee that makes honey without flowers. – Robert Green Ingersoll • I always notice flowers. – Andy Warhol • I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.- Claude Monet • I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty. – Georgia O’Keeffe • I hate flowers – I paint them because they’re cheaper than models and they don’t move. – Georgia O’Keeffe • I hold no preference among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. – Edward Abbey • I hope some day to meet God, because I want to thank Him for the flowers. – Robert Breault • I like to be bought flowers and taken out for dinner. I like a man to be a gentleman. I don’t like to be treated as if I am brainless. I like to be respected and to give respect. – Sharon Stone • I must have flowers, always, and always. – Claude Monet • I named all my children after flowers. There’s Lillie and Rose and my son, Artificial. – Bert Williams • I paint flowers so they will not die. – Frida Kahlo • I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers. – Claude Monet • I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times; but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. – Helen Keller • I sent my flowers across the hall to Mrs Nixon but her husband remembered what a Democrat I am and sent them back. – Bette Davis • I smile like a flower not only with my lips but with my whole being. – Rumi • I take care of my flowers and my cats. And enjoy food. And that’s living. – Ursula Andress • I wanted to know the name of every stone and flower and insect and bird and beast. I wanted to know where it got its color, where it got its life – but there was no one to tell me. – George Washington Carver • I was born on a farm. My strength has nothing to do with political apparatus. I get my strength from nature, from flowers. – Ariel Sharon • I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one. – Edna St. Vincent Millay • I’d go without food if I could have a flower. – Caryl Churchill • I’d never been in play long enough for the flowers to die in the dressing room – Mercedes McCambridge • If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness. – Therese of Lisieux • If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever. – Alfred Lord Tennyson • If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give. – George MacDonald • If there were nothing else to trouble us, the fate of the flowers would make us sad. – John Lancaster Spalding • If we make our goal to live a life of compassion and unconditional love, then the world will indeed become a garden where all kinds of flowers can bloom and grow. – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross • If you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for a moment. – Georgia O’Keeffe • If you think squash is a competitive activity, try flower arranging. – Alan Bennett • If you want to know what it means to be happy, look at a flower, a bird, a child; they are perfect images of the kingdom. For they live from moment to moment in the eternal now with no past and no future. – Anthony de Mello • If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom? – Khalil Gibran • I’m an introvert… I love being by myself, love being outdoors, love taking a long walk with my dogs and looking at the trees, flowers, the sky. – Audrey Hepburn • In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends. – Okakura Kakuzo • In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers. – Lucretius • It’s all about creation and surprise. It just needs to be appreciated and watered like flowers. You have to water flowers. These peaks will come again. – Sonny Rollins • It’s so clear that you have to cherish everyone. I think that’s what I get from these older black women, that every soul is to be cherished, that every flower Is to bloom. – Alice Walker • I’ve always had an inquisitive mind about everything from flowers to television sets to motor cars. Always pulled them apart – couldn’t put ’em back, but always extremely interested in how things work. – Craig Johnston • Just as a flower which seems beautiful and has color but no perfume, so are the fruitless words of the man who speaks them but does them not. – John Dewey • Just imagine becoming the way you used to be as a very young child, before you understood the meaning of any word, before opinions took over your mind. The real you is loving, joyful, and free. The real you is just like a flower, just like the wind, just like the ocean, just like the sun. – Miguel Angel Ruiz • Just living is not enough… one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. – Hans Christian Andersen • Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde • Keep the child within alive. A child never tires of hearing the birds sing, never gets bored looking at flowers. – Mata Amritanandamayi • Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend. – Mao Zedong • Let a hundred flowers bloom. – Mao Zedong • Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair. – Susan Polis Schutz • Life is the flower for which love is the honey. – Victor Hugo • Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air. – Georges Bernanos • Look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. How still they are, how deeply rooted in Being. Allow nature to teach you stillness. – Eckhart Tolle • Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it. – William Shakespeare • Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside. – Honore de Balzac • Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same. – Helen Keller • Love is the answer, and you know that for sure; Love is a flower, you’ve got to let it grow. – John Lennon • Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration. – D. H. Lawrence • Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow. – John Lennon • Love is the only flower that grows and blossoms without the aid of the seasons – Khalil Gibran • Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer’s year. It brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul. – Billy Graham • Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. – William C. Bryant • Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love. – Stevie Wonder • Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Money is a powerful aphrodisiac but flowers work almost as well. – Robert A. Heinlein • Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants. – John W. Gardner • Natural beauty is essentially temporary and sad, hence the impression of obscene mockery which artificial flowers give us. – John Updike • Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven’t time, and to see takes time – like to have a friend takes time. – Georgia O’Keeffe • Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers and laid entwined together on a bed of clover and left there to sleep, left there to dream of their happiness. – Conor Oberst • One of the most attractive things about the flowers is their beautiful reserve. – Henry David Thoreau • Our national flower is the concrete cloverleaf. – Lewis Mumford • People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us. – Iris Murdoch • People give flowers as present because flowers contain true meaning of love. Anyone who tries to posses a flower will have to watch its beauty fading. But if you simply look at a flower in the field, you’ll keep it forever. That is what the forest taught me. That you will never be mine, and that is why i will never lose you. – Paulo Coelho • Perfumes are the feelings of flowers. – Heinrich Heine • Pick a flower on Earth and you move the farthest star. – Paul Dirac • Plant flowers in others’ gardens and your life becomes a bouquet! Submitted by Lisa Letto, Coordinator, Nutrition Resource and Volunteer Centre, College of Pharmacy and Nutrition, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatchewan, Canada I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy, I woke and I saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy. – Rabindranath Tagore • Pluck not the wayside flower; It is the traveler’s dower. – William Allingham • Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder. – Rumi • Reading music is like listening to flowers. I don’t understand the concept. – Paul Westerberg • Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. • Send me flowers while I’m alive. They won’t do me a damn bit of good after I’m dead. – Joan Crawford • Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage. – e. e. cummings • Sow a seed and the earth will yield you a flower. Dream your dream to the sky and it will bring you your beloved. – Khalil Gibran • Stretching his hand up to reach the stars, too often man forgets the flowers at his feet. – Jeremy Bentham • Sweet April showers do spring May flowers. – Thomas Tusser • The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly… music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees. – Andres Segovia • The Amen of nature is always a flower. – Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. • The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms, Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him. – Auguste Rodin • The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers. – Lewis Thomas • The fact that I can plant a seed and it becomes a flower, share a bit of knowledge and it becomes another’s, smile at someone and receive a smile in return, are to me continual spiritual exercises. – Leo Buscaglia • The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure. – D. H. Lawrence • The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes. – Mark Nepo • The flower has opened, has been in the sun and is unafraid. I’m taking more chances; I’m bold and proud. – Paula Cole • The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs. – Malcolm De Chazal • The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life. – Jean Giraudoux • The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all. – Walt Disney • The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly. – William Wordsworth • The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. – Rabindranath Tagore • The flowers are Nature’s jewels, with whose wealth she decks her summer beauty. – George Croly • The heart is like a flower. Unless it is open, it cannot release its fragrance into the world. – Rajneesh • The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee. – Emily Dickinson • The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace. With each step, the wind blows. With each step, a flower blooms. – Nhat Hanh • The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers. – Nhat Hanh • The nature of this flower is to bloom. – Alice Walker • The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyone the sculpted flower. – William C. Bryant • The silence of a flower: a kind of silence which we continually evade, of which we find only the shadow in dreams. – Vicki Lewis Thompson • The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition. – Honore de Balzac • The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness. – Therese of Lisieux • The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. – Matsuo Basho • There are always flowers for those who want to see them. – Henri Matisse • There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof. – Jean Paul • There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon. – Matsuo Basho • There is that in the glance of a flower which may at times control the greatest of creation’s braggart lords. – John Muir • These flowers are like the pleasures of the world. – William Shakespeare • These stars of earth, these golden flowers. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet – William Shakespeare • Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower. – William Wordsworth • ‘Tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes! – William Wordsworth • To be beautiful means to be yourself.You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself. When you are born a lotus flower, be a beautiful lotus flower, don’t try to be a magnolia flower. If you crave acceptance and recognition and try to change yourself to fit what other people want you to be, you will suffer all your life. True happiness and true power lie in understanding yourself, accepting yourself, having confidence in yourself. – Nhat Hanh • To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat. – Beverley Nichols • To create a little flower is the labour of ages. – William Blake • To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. – William Wordsworth • To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower. – William Blake To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. – William Blake True education flowers at the point when delight falls in love with responsibility. – Philip Pullman • True glory takes root, and even spreads; all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk? – Alice Walker • We grow like flowers, and bear desire, the odor of the human flowers. – Richard Henry Stoddard • We have much to hope from the flowers. – Arthur Conan Doyle We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls. – Mother Teresa • We were born to die and we die to live. As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven. – Russell M. Nelson • Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. – A. A. Milne • Well pleaseth me the sweet time of Easter. That maketh the leaf and the flower come out. – Bertran de Born • What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. – George Eliot • What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable. – Joseph Addison • When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art. – Paul Cezanne • When Louis XIV assumed the reins of government France suddenly and wonderfully came to her maturity; it was as if the whole nation had burst into splendid flower. – Lytton Strachey • When the Christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom, they were ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers; for which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory. – John Foxe • When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited. – Ramakrishna • When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not. – Georgia O’Keeffe • Where flowers bloom so does hope. – Lady Bird Johnson • Where flowers degenerate man cannot live. – Napoleon Bonaparte • Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants at tree, is more than all. – John Greenleaf Whittier • With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy. – Lope de Vega • With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears. – John Milton • With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy? – Oscar Wilde • You can crush the flowers, but you can’t stop the spring. – Pablo Neruda • You have it in your power to make your days on Earth a path of flowers, instead of a path of thorns. – Sathya Sai Baba • You have to appreciate every single day that you’re alive. Life is a little bit like a garden – you have to find time to plant the seeds for beautiful flowers to grow. – Oscar de la Renta • You have to water the flowers you want to grow. – Stephen Covey • You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way. – Walter Hagen

[equitiesstocks]

Flower Quotes

Official Website: Flower Quotes

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• A clever man without wisdom is like a beautiful flower without fragrance. – Leonardo da Vinci • A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin. – H. L. Mencken • A family is a place where minds come in contact with one another. If these minds love one another the home will be as beautiful as a flower garden. But if these minds get out of harmony with one another it is like a storm that plays havoc with the garden. – Gautama Buddha • A flower blossoms for its own joy. – Oscar Wilde • A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love. – Max Muller • A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it. – Dogen • A flower is not better when it blooms than when it is merely a bud; at each stage it is the same thing — a flower in the process of expressing its potential. – Paulo Coelho • A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking; but even a solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it. – Vita Sackville-West • A fox is a wolf who sends flowers. – Ruth Brown • A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in–what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars. – Victor Hugo • A kiss, when all is told, what is it? An oath taken a little closer, a promise more exact. A wish that longs to be confirmed, a rosy circle drawn around the verb ‘to love’. A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear, a moment of infinity humming like a bee, a communion tasting of flowers, a way of breathing in a little of the heart and tasting a little of the soul with the edge of the lips! – Edmond Rostand • A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers. – Eddie Cantor • A weed is but an unloved flower. – Ella Wheeler Wilcox • A weed is no more than a flower in disguise. – James Russell Lowell • A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over. – Honore de Balzac • Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o’er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last? – Letitia Elizabeth Landon • All beings are flowers blossoming In a blossoming universe. – Soen Nakagawa • All my life I have tried to pluck a thistle and plant a flower wherever the flower would grow in thought and mind. – Abraham Lincoln • And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch’d by the thorns. – Thomas Moore • Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough. Not only have I found that when I talk to the little flower or to the little peanut they will give up their secrets, but I have found that when I silently commune with people they give up their secrets also – if you love them enough. – George Washington Carver • Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day – like writing a poem or saying a prayer. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Art is like a border of flowers along the course of civilization. – Lincoln Steffens • Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers – and never succeeding. – Gian Carlo Menotti • As a lotus flower is born in water, grows in water and rises out of water to stand above it unsoiled, so I, born in the world, raised in the world having overcome the world, live unsoiled by the world – Gautama Buddha • As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them. – Henry Ward Beecher • As well as any bloom upon a flower I like the dust on the nettles, never lost Except to prove the sweetness of a shower. – Edward Thomas • At my age flowers scare me. – George Burns • Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. – Albert Camus

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Flower', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_flower').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_flower img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Be like a flower that gives its fragrance even to the hand that crushed it. – Ali ibn Abi Talib • Be like the flower, turn your faces to the sun. – Khalil Gibran • Beauty is but a flower, which wrinkles will devour. – Thomas Nash • Before the flowers of friendship faded friendship faded. – Gertrude Stein • Break open A cherry tree And there are no flowers; But the spring breeze Brings forth myriad blossoms. – Ikkyu • By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. – Rabindranath Tagore • Can we conceive what humanity would be if it did not know the flowers? – Maurice Maeterlinck • Dear common flower, that grow’st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold. – James Russell Lowell • Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light. – Theodore Roethke • Don’t give your loved one a flower, because it too has a loved one! Let the flowers live! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Don’t wait until people are dead to give them flowers. – Sean Covey • each separate flower has a magic all its own. – Myrtle Reed • Earth laughs in flowers. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Even if you think the Big Bang created the stars, don’t you wonder who sent the flowers? – Robert Breault • Even in a minute instance, it is best to look first to the main tendencies of Nature. A particular flower may not be dead in early winter, but the flowers are dying; a particular pebble may never be wetted with the tide, but the tide is coming in. To the scientific eye all human history is a series of collective movements, destructions or migrations, like the massacre of flies in winter or the return of birds in spring. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • Every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody. Every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy – Robert Green Ingersoll • Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature. – Gerard De Nerval • Every soul is to be cherished, every flower is to bloom. – Alice Walker • Flowers always have it – poise, completion, fulfillment, perfection . . . – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul. – Luther Burbank • Flowers are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty out values all the utilities of the world. If dandelions were hard to grow, they would be most welcome on any lawn. – Andrew Mason • Flowers are as common in the country as people are in London. – Oscar Wilde • Flowers are happy things. – P. G. Wodehouse • Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts. – Sigmund Freud • Flowers are the beautiful hieroglyphics of nature with which she indicates how much she loves us. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe • Flowers are the Romeos and the Juliets of the nature! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into. – Henry Ward Beecher • Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow. – Antonio Porchia • Flowers feed the soul. – Nazr Mohammed • Flowers grow out of dark moments. – Corita Kent • Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others are plain, honest and upright, like the broad faced sunflower and the hollyhock. – Henry Ward Beecher • Flowers have spoken to me more than I can tell in written words. They are the hieroglyphics of angels, loved by all men for the beauty of their character, though few can decipher even fragments of their meaning. – Lydia M. Child • Flowers never emit so sweet and strong a fragrance as before a storm. When a storm approaches thee, be as fragrant as a sweet-smelling flower. – Jean Paul • Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. – John Milton • Flowers really do intoxicate me. – Vita Sackville-West • Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity. – John Ruskin • Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. – D. H. Lawrence • For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant! – Edward Abbey • Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes – every form of animate or inanimate existence, leaves its impress upon the soul of man. – Orison Swett Marden • From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity. – Edvard Munch • Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its fragrance on the desert air. – Jane Austen • Full many a flower is born to blush unseen. – James Joyce • Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all. – John Greenleaf Whittier • Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.- Walt Whitman • God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars. – Martin Luther • Gold is the gift of vanity and common pride, but flowers are the gift of love and friendship. – Franz Grillparzer • Gratitude is a flower that blooms in noble souls. – Pope Francis • Happiness is the natural flower of duty. – Phillips Brooks • Happiness radiates like the fragrance from a flower, and draws all good things toward you. – Maharishi Mahesh Yogi • He is happiest who hath power to gather wisdom from a flower. – Mary Howitt • He who is born with a silver spoon in his mouth is generally considered a fortunate person, but his good fortune is small compared to that of the happy mortal who enters this world with a passion for flowers in his soul. – Celia Thaxter • Hope is the only bee that makes honey without flowers. – Robert Green Ingersoll • I always notice flowers. – Andy Warhol • I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.- Claude Monet • I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty. – Georgia O’Keeffe • I hate flowers – I paint them because they’re cheaper than models and they don’t move. – Georgia O’Keeffe • I hold no preference among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. – Edward Abbey • I hope some day to meet God, because I want to thank Him for the flowers. – Robert Breault • I like to be bought flowers and taken out for dinner. I like a man to be a gentleman. I don’t like to be treated as if I am brainless. I like to be respected and to give respect. – Sharon Stone • I must have flowers, always, and always. – Claude Monet • I named all my children after flowers. There’s Lillie and Rose and my son, Artificial. – Bert Williams • I paint flowers so they will not die. – Frida Kahlo • I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers. – Claude Monet • I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times; but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. – Helen Keller • I sent my flowers across the hall to Mrs Nixon but her husband remembered what a Democrat I am and sent them back. – Bette Davis • I smile like a flower not only with my lips but with my whole being. – Rumi • I take care of my flowers and my cats. And enjoy food. And that’s living. – Ursula Andress • I wanted to know the name of every stone and flower and insect and bird and beast. I wanted to know where it got its color, where it got its life – but there was no one to tell me. – George Washington Carver • I was born on a farm. My strength has nothing to do with political apparatus. I get my strength from nature, from flowers. – Ariel Sharon • I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one. – Edna St. Vincent Millay • I’d go without food if I could have a flower. – Caryl Churchill • I’d never been in play long enough for the flowers to die in the dressing room – Mercedes McCambridge • If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness. – Therese of Lisieux • If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever. – Alfred Lord Tennyson • If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give. – George MacDonald • If there were nothing else to trouble us, the fate of the flowers would make us sad. – John Lancaster Spalding • If we make our goal to live a life of compassion and unconditional love, then the world will indeed become a garden where all kinds of flowers can bloom and grow. – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross • If you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for a moment. – Georgia O’Keeffe • If you think squash is a competitive activity, try flower arranging. – Alan Bennett • If you want to know what it means to be happy, look at a flower, a bird, a child; they are perfect images of the kingdom. For they live from moment to moment in the eternal now with no past and no future. – Anthony de Mello • If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom? – Khalil Gibran • I’m an introvert… I love being by myself, love being outdoors, love taking a long walk with my dogs and looking at the trees, flowers, the sky. – Audrey Hepburn • In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends. – Okakura Kakuzo • In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers. – Lucretius • It’s all about creation and surprise. It just needs to be appreciated and watered like flowers. You have to water flowers. These peaks will come again. – Sonny Rollins • It’s so clear that you have to cherish everyone. I think that’s what I get from these older black women, that every soul is to be cherished, that every flower Is to bloom. – Alice Walker • I’ve always had an inquisitive mind about everything from flowers to television sets to motor cars. Always pulled them apart – couldn’t put ’em back, but always extremely interested in how things work. – Craig Johnston • Just as a flower which seems beautiful and has color but no perfume, so are the fruitless words of the man who speaks them but does them not. – John Dewey • Just imagine becoming the way you used to be as a very young child, before you understood the meaning of any word, before opinions took over your mind. The real you is loving, joyful, and free. The real you is just like a flower, just like the wind, just like the ocean, just like the sun. – Miguel Angel Ruiz • Just living is not enough… one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. – Hans Christian Andersen • Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde • Keep the child within alive. A child never tires of hearing the birds sing, never gets bored looking at flowers. – Mata Amritanandamayi • Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend. – Mao Zedong • Let a hundred flowers bloom. – Mao Zedong • Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair. – Susan Polis Schutz • Life is the flower for which love is the honey. – Victor Hugo • Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air. – Georges Bernanos • Look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. How still they are, how deeply rooted in Being. Allow nature to teach you stillness. – Eckhart Tolle • Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it. – William Shakespeare • Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside. – Honore de Balzac • Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same. – Helen Keller • Love is the answer, and you know that for sure; Love is a flower, you’ve got to let it grow. – John Lennon • Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration. – D. H. Lawrence • Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow. – John Lennon • Love is the only flower that grows and blossoms without the aid of the seasons – Khalil Gibran • Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer’s year. It brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul. – Billy Graham • Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. – William C. Bryant • Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love. – Stevie Wonder • Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Money is a powerful aphrodisiac but flowers work almost as well. – Robert A. Heinlein • Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants. – John W. Gardner • Natural beauty is essentially temporary and sad, hence the impression of obscene mockery which artificial flowers give us. – John Updike • Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven’t time, and to see takes time – like to have a friend takes time. – Georgia O’Keeffe • Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers and laid entwined together on a bed of clover and left there to sleep, left there to dream of their happiness. – Conor Oberst • One of the most attractive things about the flowers is their beautiful reserve. – Henry David Thoreau • Our national flower is the concrete cloverleaf. – Lewis Mumford • People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us. – Iris Murdoch • People give flowers as present because flowers contain true meaning of love. Anyone who tries to posses a flower will have to watch its beauty fading. But if you simply look at a flower in the field, you’ll keep it forever. That is what the forest taught me. That you will never be mine, and that is why i will never lose you. – Paulo Coelho • Perfumes are the feelings of flowers. – Heinrich Heine • Pick a flower on Earth and you move the farthest star. – Paul Dirac • Plant flowers in others’ gardens and your life becomes a bouquet! Submitted by Lisa Letto, Coordinator, Nutrition Resource and Volunteer Centre, College of Pharmacy and Nutrition, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatchewan, Canada I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy, I woke and I saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy. – Rabindranath Tagore • Pluck not the wayside flower; It is the traveler’s dower. – William Allingham • Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder. – Rumi • Reading music is like listening to flowers. I don’t understand the concept. – Paul Westerberg • Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get. – H. Jackson Brown, Jr. • Send me flowers while I’m alive. They won’t do me a damn bit of good after I’m dead. – Joan Crawford • Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage. – e. e. cummings • Sow a seed and the earth will yield you a flower. Dream your dream to the sky and it will bring you your beloved. – Khalil Gibran • Stretching his hand up to reach the stars, too often man forgets the flowers at his feet. – Jeremy Bentham • Sweet April showers do spring May flowers. – Thomas Tusser • The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly… music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees. – Andres Segovia • The Amen of nature is always a flower. – Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. • The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms, Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him. – Auguste Rodin • The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers. – Lewis Thomas • The fact that I can plant a seed and it becomes a flower, share a bit of knowledge and it becomes another’s, smile at someone and receive a smile in return, are to me continual spiritual exercises. – Leo Buscaglia • The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure. – D. H. Lawrence • The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes. – Mark Nepo • The flower has opened, has been in the sun and is unafraid. I’m taking more chances; I’m bold and proud. – Paula Cole • The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs. – Malcolm De Chazal • The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life. – Jean Giraudoux • The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all. – Walt Disney • The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly. – William Wordsworth • The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. – Rabindranath Tagore • The flowers are Nature’s jewels, with whose wealth she decks her summer beauty. – George Croly • The heart is like a flower. Unless it is open, it cannot release its fragrance into the world. – Rajneesh • The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee. – Emily Dickinson • The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace. With each step, the wind blows. With each step, a flower blooms. – Nhat Hanh • The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers. – Nhat Hanh • The nature of this flower is to bloom. – Alice Walker • The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyone the sculpted flower. – William C. Bryant • The silence of a flower: a kind of silence which we continually evade, of which we find only the shadow in dreams. – Vicki Lewis Thompson • The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition. – Honore de Balzac • The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness. – Therese of Lisieux • The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. – Matsuo Basho • There are always flowers for those who want to see them. – Henri Matisse • There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof. – Jean Paul • There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon. – Matsuo Basho • There is that in the glance of a flower which may at times control the greatest of creation’s braggart lords. – John Muir • These flowers are like the pleasures of the world. – William Shakespeare • These stars of earth, these golden flowers. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet – William Shakespeare • Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower. – William Wordsworth • ‘Tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes! – William Wordsworth • To be beautiful means to be yourself.You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself. When you are born a lotus flower, be a beautiful lotus flower, don’t try to be a magnolia flower. If you crave acceptance and recognition and try to change yourself to fit what other people want you to be, you will suffer all your life. True happiness and true power lie in understanding yourself, accepting yourself, having confidence in yourself. – Nhat Hanh • To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat. – Beverley Nichols • To create a little flower is the labour of ages. – William Blake • To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. – William Wordsworth • To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower. – William Blake To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. – William Blake True education flowers at the point when delight falls in love with responsibility. – Philip Pullman • True glory takes root, and even spreads; all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk? – Alice Walker • We grow like flowers, and bear desire, the odor of the human flowers. – Richard Henry Stoddard • We have much to hope from the flowers. – Arthur Conan Doyle We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls. – Mother Teresa • We were born to die and we die to live. As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven. – Russell M. Nelson • Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. – A. A. Milne • Well pleaseth me the sweet time of Easter. That maketh the leaf and the flower come out. – Bertran de Born • What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. – George Eliot • What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable. – Joseph Addison • When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art. – Paul Cezanne • When Louis XIV assumed the reins of government France suddenly and wonderfully came to her maturity; it was as if the whole nation had burst into splendid flower. – Lytton Strachey • When the Christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom, they were ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers; for which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory. – John Foxe • When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited. – Ramakrishna • When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not. – Georgia O’Keeffe • Where flowers bloom so does hope. – Lady Bird Johnson • Where flowers degenerate man cannot live. – Napoleon Bonaparte • Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants at tree, is more than all. – John Greenleaf Whittier • With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy. – Lope de Vega • With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears. – John Milton • With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy? – Oscar Wilde • You can crush the flowers, but you can’t stop the spring. – Pablo Neruda • You have it in your power to make your days on Earth a path of flowers, instead of a path of thorns. – Sathya Sai Baba • You have to appreciate every single day that you’re alive. Life is a little bit like a garden – you have to find time to plant the seeds for beautiful flowers to grow. – Oscar de la Renta • You have to water the flowers you want to grow. – Stephen Covey • You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way. – Walter Hagen

[lizmckague-blog]

Rimbaud the Son, by Pierre Michon

Translated by Jody Gladding and Elizabeth Deshays

Yale University Press, 2013

If you’re going to single out the agony of “the gift”, the iron in irony, the embodiment of the tormented artist, the lost son of all sons, it would be Rimbaud.

It would be human and masculine.

It would be what is recovered

                                                   L’éternité.

It would be what is pure

                                                  La mer mêlée au soleil.

“History is all about fathers, sons and whores.”

                                                                   -Duncan McNaughton

Or the dark well of a single mother who can’t, just can’t- because the farm in Charleville is a daydream surfacing only in the sallow yellow sunbeam that comes out from the attic window like a church bell on Sunday when everything is hideous and you’re supposed to remember.

Remember what?

                                  Infamy and alchemy, perhaps.

Yet the ‘Carabosse’ (mommy) can’t breathe, so fades into the shadow of her dark fingers, like Eurydice, gripping the edge of the bowl of the dark well, lined with wild forget-me-nots.

Whether rebellion is a curse or a blessing, it’s still poetry.

So he walked. Back and forth from the future into the past and back again from 1854 to 1891.

Crossed the Alps on foot. In Italy (if I remember correctly)- walking, walking, walking until his ribs cut into his Siddhartha stomach lining.

Burst!

He wanted to burst from the very first time he watched a spider.

He became a saint behind the closed shutters in Camden Town, perching like a peacock in the presence of a devil.

Drown in the green fairy and rise out of the lake like a Lancelot with a sword wound by violets whose roots are stronger than your thin wrist.

So after the offenses and defenses, after the crime of the enfant terrible, and all along the solitude, the one thing that loved you- solitude, you plunged, like Eurydice, back into the dark, fecund pantomime of the earth below the earth

And in Abyssinia, illegally exported guns.

Maybe once upon a dream you remembered your boyhood with three sisters, an older brother, the haystacks, the color of each letter of the alphabet and the lapis-lazuli chunks of sky blinding the pillows of clouds where you chose to hide

                                                                                                      Your wings.

Until the day you took the train

Without a ticket

To the Gods.

Michon thinks you were nervous before the steps to Zeus’s Palace.

I do not.

Zeus doesn’t give a crap about peonies and the prodigal son has eyes like Novalis’ blue flower

and a body protected by thorns.

You were sixteen.

You wanted the hue of that vast, endless sky

Seen from the well of the soul

                                                     It’s not a good view.

But it’s focused in a circle that is beyond you.

Was it at nineteen, or in Cypress, or in Africa, when you finally understood how freedom spoiled you? Surrender, surrender to the sands of the line, to the banks of Lethe. And plaster your fasting with a belt made of gold.

She was as black as the country wife’s fingers.

She emerged from the dead cavern of Verlaine and the blood of the lonesome soldier in the meadow and the invisible city of the barracks across oceans.

Once it stopped

There was beauty.

That spider crawling in the attic, in the sallow yellow sunbeam, is a messenger from Izambard, the ferryman, telling you to give him a penny

but instead you knocked on the door and had your photograph taken.

Who gives a fuck about the crooked bow tie? It was brown, the color of shit. Not your own shit, or Paul’s, or Banville’s, or Hugo’s, or your mother’s or father’s or sisters’ or brother’s, or even Monsieur Carjat in the black hood over the plate of silver nitrate… The bow tie in the black and white photograph is the color of Jesus’s shit.

Carjat wanted to touch it (the crooked bow tie), to adjust it-

But dude, if you were in front of Jesus’s shit would you adjust it?

(Touch it, maybe, but adjust it?)

You were hung over. Then you were drunk and then you were hung over. Fuck Virgil, fuck Dante, fuck Shakespeare, fuck Hugo, fuck Mallarme, fuck Baudelaire…

No, not Baudelaire, he’s my baby.

History is reversed. I’m the first.

A charcoal sky over Paris, day after day. They all want me. They are hungry. I am not. So I stay. Their soup is spiced with my piss, their lips are parched by my invisible sun. They laugh, imagining how my white ass must be luminous as the moon.

I wanted grace. I didn’t know it then, but I wanted it.

Books were gentle. The pages were silky. The bindings were hard. They smelled like History. They smelled like the well.

I saw the sea, remembered love and learned how to bring it against me.

Wave after wave after wave…

A La Recherche du Temps Perdu by Marcel Proust

Translated by C.K. Scott Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin

Three volumes, 1107 pages, Vintage, New York, 1982

My friend Miles Bellamy’s father, Dick Bellamy, owner of the once rather notorious Oil & Steel art gallery on the Hudson river in New York, died with the first volume of A Le Recherche du Temps Perdu open in his hands. The portrait here being that dear Dick, knowing he was taking his last breaths, remembered that the one thing he had yet to accomplish in life was… well, you get it. Unfortunately poor Dick never read did the whole thing, all 1,267,064 words, but I did. And before I die, I might attempt to do so again.

When I did finish this monumental work, I vowed that it must be the greatest book of time… and then I read Jean Santeuil (see below), yet still say yes, it’s the greatest work of all time. It’s the delicacy of feeling, the stamina of that delicacy, the persistence… days turning into years of sunlight scattered through clouds.

If asked what this novel is about, I’d answer, “The end of the aristocracy in France.” Simple. But it’s about everything not only ending, but spreading out and folding back on itself. It’s about love. It’s about mysticism.

The famous madeleine dipped in tea in the beginning opens up the space for, well, enlightenment really, and when Marcel accidently trips on uneven stones in the path to the Guermantes mansion in the end, that very path is raised into another, higher dimension and you go there too… bursting through clouds, transformed.

It’s hard to say what actually happens in this moment but one is undeniably transformed. *

James, a co-worker of mine at a used bookstore, (way back when- when there was a happy abundance of used bookstores)- came into work one day kind of glowing, radiating and outside of himself, almost floating. He said, “I just finished reading Proust,” then added, “sitting on the stone steps of a church.” I don’t remember where I was when I finished it, probably in my garden in the darkening twilight, unable to move until the end of the last page, or more likely, propped up against pillows in my bed at four in the morning or something, nothing as romantic as the steps of a church, or a chair in a room on the Hudson River in the glow of lamp, but I do remember that when I did finish it, yeah- I was in some kind of nebula, my perspective of the mundane egg (as Blake terms our world)- changed and I was stronger. Inside, there was this new strength of fragility, my own and every one else’s, even strangers, even the dead… perhaps, thinking back on it now, especially the dead…

This has stayed with me, this joy of (at the risk of being cliché)- an inner knowledge that was had, and could only be had, by reading A Le Recherche du Temps Perdu.                                                                                                                          

Of course I am familiar with a book entitled “How Proust Can Change Your Life”, I’ve never read it and never will because the title alone is so pretentious it makes me nauseous and the fact that someone would write a book for the sole purpose of self-propaganda really makes me want to puke.

Looking for St. Loop

by Elizabeth McKague (1999)

“I thought I saw in his eyes that thirst for more sublime happiness, that un-avowed melancholy which aspires to something better than we can know here below, and which, for the romantic soul, however placed by chance or revolution,

“still prompts the celestial sight,

for which we wish to live, or dare to die.”

(Ultima lettera di Bianca a sua madre. Forli, 1817)

-Stendhal, “On Love”

Looking for St. Loup

I.

The gallant boy ran across the tables

like Holderlin’s comet through a mad sky.

There is no system for this.

Monsieur Melandrine came from the theater

to the Place de Clichy in work pants on a scooter.

We ate oysters and drank champagne

in the same corner where Baudelaire

sank into reverie, after a shoe shine.

The gentlemen arrive, all in black, from the Garden

and wish to enter the dark forest

yet wily nymphs hold them back.

No one believes it, although you were right

about the Minotaur-  now he’s using a cane.

It’s time for change when the familiar

becomes a loneliness one can not breathe.

Leopardi said Slyia reached out to her own grave.

His red cloak flying over their heads-

He seemed to be swinging from a garland of bells!

I must find invitations to better dramas.

Philosophy, the kiss, your paint box even

that has been emptied into this night

are lost so quickly, I can’t stand, I can’t walk,

I want to limp.

I gazed over the shoulders of so many others

as he leapt past an orgy of apocalyptic monsters

made by the shadows of coats and hats on racks

behind the French double doors.

He gathered his whole life into his arms to bring,

dashing, that fearless taste of the fruit-

blind to all but Surrender, to the approach

of a movement where feeling becomes a circle of light

drifting you upwards s that your heels

are actually rising from the small,

round, marble faces, arranged for reflection

against the great window, like a sliced up moon.

II.

He wants

the word

one word

from the

beginning

to     after

the end.

Some temperance

and arrangement

of the muscles

like flowers

in a vase.

Young Werther spoke of a kind of horse

that would bite open it’s own vein to relieve a fever.

Di te mi dole: Tu me manques.

A posture of Spring time in the cultured rows of sailboats.

The secret gathering is to live

as foreigners forced by the archer

to almost touch the shore.

marked obscura. The phantom swooped into the realm.

I revealed my dream.

“You mean, you actually want them t put you in the ground?”

Bones. Maybe. And daughters leaving azaleas.

My favorite part was when he drove up alone

and stepped out in front of the hotel.

How the sun carried him then, how

he lingered inside it

even as he entered the mulberry carpeted lounge.

Sultry wives, embarrassed by the heat, heaved out loud.

Bellhops hopped and stray men snatched

a second mind from the ice bucket

to place atop their usual, girdles of ennui.

She’ll torture herself with those pink hawthorns

a few hundred years from now.

Some erziehungsroman left in a box unfinished

in the closet and pithoi and stone cellar where

Thomas Aquinas once lived across the street

When once the body, the earth listened and

men walked where ever they found

an arresting feeling waiting in the distance.

It is necessary.

III.

As he watched the fawn

climb from the thicket

through unsteady branches

black with a melting frost

Play of time

the clouds bore down

another spirit upon

his wounded mind.

IV.

I’ll rent a studio where the river

becomes a dragon at the end of May.

Read Giuseppe Ungaretti at the round cafe

in the Piazza Giuseppe Poggi there is

a piece of shade shaped like an angel

from one certain elm.

If I asked you to read the palm on the hill.

You could be anybody reaching

the purple turrets in a limehaze.

I can see a missing chapter

in the prow of your hands,

mouth at the edge of a miracle.

It has been too long now not to know what to believe.

A shock went through the back of his neck.

A marching band stepped on the train.

He sat with a silent

tuba in his ear.

Another espresso in Rome.

Best one he ever had.

She walked through the Piazza della Repubblica

guitar on her back with a

pineapple and an eggplant, one in each arm.

The street musicians wondered,

“Must be some kinda California minestrone.”

She left her letters in the Hotel Vienne, 1814.

The unfinished dawn bleeding through crepe de che curtains and

the boys in stone statues across the Rue Raspail

when everything has happened in the presence of desire

and the Saints came in after kissing the trees-

She knew she could see across the expanse

but how could she scramble such love into the margins?

The sky moved closer, became charcoal and smoked.

V.

They pierced the continual sky with an auger,

threw loops up to heaven

and hung down like acrobats.

Sprung from a doubtless tube of royalty; he owned up

and saw truth as a visible object, a kind of crystal ball

in which nothing was false but the tints

of lavender in the hair and cheeks of so many Duchesses,

Princesses and Marquises’.

St. Loup laughed to cheer others.

In the hearth he burnt only the finest timber

to keep you warmer, longer.

He would soon ride again.

She escaped out under the trellises where

the quiet, gold days waiting for the post

spread out like tea with lemon.

On his own orders, later, after the pride

turned to pain (for no particular reason);

he went to the Front of the Line, crossed

the bloody battlefield in Auverres.

Endymion fought the jackals then rested his sword between her breast.

Tristan turned into Hermes when suddenly

everything on his back moved over his neck like a breeze.

It was always a trust.

In his last years he visited homosexual brothels.

His alienation pulsed. After all the gifts, still it was

like a bonfire all the way down the Champs Elysees,

it was like the dried figs at Christmas-

Perhaps there’d been too many sensations outside of himself,

he could no longer measure the end.

Perhaps it had past.

Perhaps he missed it.

You ask why it is a question of wandering?

Because somewhere the last line contains

a horizon  of Nobility.

VI.

I’m in that painting; rushed through the Vatican.

Justine taught me the eye trick how when you focus

on Hell then move slowly up and above

it’s all buoyancy and heavy globes.

I found my ecstatic consciousness on the map.

What a relief. (I was getting weaker from surviving

on the nebula of the dead).

T’was not I who wrote bitterness into the third novel.

Monmartre mattresscake on bare stone and gazing

naked into the long dawn and ashes of Chesterfields.

“Comme un paysage après l’orage, attention a la mélancolie,

c’est la plus belle mélodie de l’amour

c’est aussi la plus cruel et plus difficile.

Soit prudent avec ton coeur et rendre un peu triste.”

Someday, I’m going to the

top of the hill to live

with the Capuchin sisters.

I wanted the stillness to come and last, beside some one.

It speaks when we are children as a form of protection-

to find placement amongst that which is sensual.

Each memory in its own making like a sun

surrounded by a sun, surrounded by a sun... and so on;

if you can believe such a thing.

They say it all began with the Danube,

from the Black Sea to 1001 night’s heads resting on jewels in the great net covering all.

Then Calvalcanti came in with the key and the Pieta, the Pieta and the Pieta danced

all night out back of Hamlet’s Mill.            He just wanted to prove that it’s real-

that everything touches it, that it feels like Rouen blue

and haunted by crimson,

                         corrosive moss

         that took the mouths of gargoyles.

He distinguished a solitude far beyond the waves and valleys of reason.

His precipice divided the elliptic and he finally slept when the moon left Paris,

was carried off to Asia where he studied new characters; hieroglyphs of lover’s

limbs.

No, see

               MIND                              Body

                                                                               is the first

and second half

                                            of attention.

Then habit oppresses

soluble links to the night.

The machinery itself looks dangerous.

I wanted to tell you

how nice it would have been

when it was                possible

to escape.

And now,  there’s      that.

That it affected you so much.

Maybe it could have been more

than these pall books to carry us,

to weave the way in.

VII.

He walked along the shore, throwing each thought that started

in his groin and moved North over his shoulders

back in to the water.

I               have married many shepherds.

It was too orange- that light

in his North Beach hotel room.

Now he’s making violins for Carnagie Hall.

We’d watched the sun like we planted it,

even the noise of traffic and Ave Marias

from the laundromat below his rotting window, drowned.

Nobody talks about the Upyia Gallery anymore,

sometimes, a siren brings the needles and trumpets back into your brain.

Then the stranger appears, feeding the birds.

I couldn’t make anything new anymore, I wanted

to give it all away. Forgive me,

the East is precious, but, forgive me.

St. Loup is an archetype

the misunderstood troubadour

and the violence of another world.

Ternion in chains in the Caucasus Mountains,

no one can find you there.

the monsters come, the monsters go...

He’d never say her name in writing.

It meant house. House of peaches.

VIII.

St. Loup surrounded himself with the resistless type.

He liked to tame them. But you were the one

he appreciated. You were the dark self, the delicate solitaire.

Conversation was pure.         It was only a favor. So,

he traveled to her hiding place

and learned she had died.

He told you by telegram, “I’m sorry.

She went horse riding in the planets.”

He rarely slept in the barracks.

When the Great War came he went in barefoot

and lonely, following demons for secrets

and no one to save.

He never had a photograph taken of himself.

Leave, was three days in Nueilly-

But you’d been salvaged

into the asylum.

I’m not going to be calm about this.

I believe there’s an answer.

If I could say, “Tonight, my love...”

but my voice is fainter, transient,

like a sliver of ice.

You must be brave. learn to balance

the antiquity of character with laughter.

The shetayan who is wise never returns-

you go there- in the periphery of the campfire.

Each bridge in Prague is like the bow of a violin.

For every two French people there is only one mirror.

Proust and Stendhal differ on the idea of love.

What    idea?

Friends have run off to Nederland, Colorado.

Dreadlocks in Switzerland.

The Trenitalia are always right on time, to the second.

and mothers and grooms waving good-bye.

I’m concerned about the lighting (not too dark, not too cold...)

the Byzantine painter, who is eccentric, is coming.

“If you impress them too much they’ll end up thinking

you’re a survivor.”

Gray, gray, the color of storm

and that soft, yellow patch,

and the chimes, and the albatross.

The carriage waited. The shadowy lamplighter alone,

walking down the Boulevard de Batignolles in a mist.

St. Loup entertained his table until midnight.

Who are you looking at?

Let’s have another round.

His red cloak hanging on the back of his chair like Shelley’s ghosts.

The underpainting the color of brown glass

then Mediterranean light and a tiny bottle of arsenic.

Chatterton as Icarus on the bed in the attic.

You were right, about culture, how it’s all about

fathers, sons, and whores.

Monsieur Melandrine had such a fucking

intelligent looking upper lip. He abandoned

everything to position himself between feeling what is illusion and what is manifest.

I pictured his boyhood,

tangerines and linden trees, imagination at Fontainebleau.

It was the last time.

I watched an old man pour soapy water on the steps,

then sweep it away with a broom.

IX.

The sullen wind

cherry blossom snow

it is Spring.

I still have your banjo. I threw away the case.

It looked like Rimbaud’s passport.

She wrapped the souvenirs in the pretty printed paper from the confiserie

and left them in the front zipper pocket of her suitcase

when she got home, unpacking.

Forever that midnight.

He did look a bit surprised when she lay down

on the floor of pine needles in the spreading moonlight,

beyond the red stones, over the wall, out back of someone

unknown’s villa, through the dewy meadow

in an atrium of skinny trees

where Dvorak had the inspiration to compose his-

“So did you get those cool sandals...?”

“At the bazaar, in Cairo.”

Allegro ma non troppo.

St. Loup was killed in battle.

Blown up and scattered.

No one knew, but himself, then-

at that very moment,

that he really wished

for truth and freedom,

that he had plans,

that he wanted to continue

the task that

in this little globe

one can still find

some definition

of virtue.

2005

Jean Santeuil by Marcel Proust,

Translated by Gerald Hopkins

Simon & Shuster, New York, 1956, 2nd printing, first printing 1955

Bernard de Fallios, a young Proust scholar, found several boxes of torn manuscript pages and seventy notebooks in Marcel’s cork-lined room at 102 Boulevard Haussmann. Written, and obviously abandoned, when Proust was around 25, these pages were carefully reassembled by Fallios and published in Paris as the novel, “Jean Santeuil” in 1952.

This probably my foremost favorite novel, although Le Recherche is absolutely a greater work, Jean is… well, it’s like a raindrop. (And the dated, pale pink cover is really cool!)

It is the tender story of a poet. An indulgence in sentimentality. A bath of isolated sensuality. Lonesomeness. Illness. Growth. The humor of adolescence, hypersensitivity, innocence, natural voyeurism, connection points into the center of sexuality, naiveté and intelligence merged by poetic vision into the beauty of windows out onto the ‘health’ of society when one is so young and so ill. Jean Santeuil is the beacon on the lighthouse. Portrait of an artist as a lover alone. (Yet, aren’t all artists lovers alone?) It’s a bout a boy taking the boy into the man no matter what…

From page 369, when Jean’s mother calls him while he is away from her for the first time (if I remember correctly): And also, the telephone is a new invention at this time in history:

“Quickly, he put the receiver to his ear… then, all of a sudden, as if everyone had left the room and he was throwing himself into his mother’s arms- he was aware, close beside him, gentle, fragile, delicate, so clear, so melting, like a tiny scrap of broken ice- of her voice.”

The mature Marcel (see above) finds strength in fragility. Jean Santeuil creates, fashions out of clay, strength out of weakness. Strength to accept death (at such a young age!) and the weakness to love life. Hope.

The tendons of language are bruised.

The sky is grey, the ocean green, girls wear white, boys wear blue and in between, the lover, the lighthouse, fearlessly feels the world through his window, the window of all the lost time of youth that has been emptied into his shining soul.

from page 743:

“For death in a man journeys into the infinite and into nothingness. For no matter how obscure he may be, no matter how limited his intelligence, the thought of death, the coming of death, opens for him a window on the mysteries of eternity.”

[icyada]

Chapter 2, A Plea for Help

Echos across Time and Space Book One: "Something Wicked this way Comes"

Aditional Note: the "Old English" being used is actually not Old per say, it is Shakespereian english and I am using a translator so dont get upset please. I will provide a translation (according to my translator) at the end of each chapter

Disclaimer: As much as I hate admitting it I dont own Harry Potter (I think Mrs Rowling should rewrite the series though, its got so much she can add to it)

Chapter 2- Plea for Help

‘To the ones named Harry Potter and Hermione Granger,

I know you have heard of me, but let me formally introduce myself. I am Godric Gryffindor. I take great risk in sending you this missive across the time stream, but I felt the risk was worth the cost that would have happened if I hadn’t intervened.

You see, currently I have recently reached my 20th year of life and, though I am not a true seer such as my friend Myrddin Emrys, who you all know as Merlin Ambrosius, I do get a dream vision at least once a year. This is important because several nights ago I had a dream vision of an entire lifetime, more specifically the lifetime of Harry Potter. That includes past the point you get this letter.

I’ll be frank, your friend Ronald does return to you before you go on to win the war you are currently fighting, but only at the cost of more of your friends’ lives. The other reason I send you this letter is because I have seen beyond that. You Harry, go on to work as an auror, marry Ginerva and have 3 kids: James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter, and Lily Luna Potter. Hermione, you go onto marry Ronald and have 2 kids: Rose Weasley and Hugo Weasley, while working as the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It sounds glamorous, but it wasn’t without pain.

I have sent you a set of books detailing the last 7 years you have gone through, including what is left from your current year that you haven’t experienced yet. These books are broken up based on the year number at Hogwarts. I acquired them myself from a fellow who, likes to experiment with his spells, managed to pull them from a different dimension quite on accident.

Anyways, it is my hope that you will send them to people in your immediate past for them to be read, perhaps allowing them to make different choices and change the future to make it better then it will be. Feel free to read what you have not experienced yet; I have marked the right book and the place you are at currently in your journey.

Whether you decide to send these books back or not, I wanted to personally let you in on more of my own interference. I plan on pulling both of you along with Neville Longbottom from when you were 7 and 8 years old. With Myrddin's help, I will train you up and return you to your own time in the summer before your first year. I am letting you know this because it will change your younger selves.  However, Myrddin tells me that it might erase your current selves. I also ask that you send back research, as you will have to develop your own time travel spell. I dare not write ours down, as we're already treading on dangerously thin ice messing with time like this.

If you agree, I have provided a parchment which I have charmed to, as Myrddin put it, "break the barriers of time". You can communicate directly to me with it. But use it only when you have need to speak to me, as I do not know how long the charms will last being that it and I are not in the same time period. I would also suggest that you read the marked book first before you tell me your decision on your help. That’s all I have to say here. I hope to be able to speak with you soon. Godric Gryffindor P.S: This beautiful white phoenix came to us on our way to Stonehenge where we would send this letter off. She told some Druids that her name is Hedwig and that she wanted to go home to her...ahem, "chick" as she put it. I will let her tell you.’

------------------------- Seventeen year old Harry Potter and Eighteen year old Hermione Granger couldn’t believe they were reading. 

"......This is certainly sudden," Hermione whispered. 

Harry nodded in response and then read the post script and his eyes widened as he dropped the letter before staring at Hedwig.

"H-Hedwig?" he whispered, a slight sparkle of hope lit his eyes. 

The white bird trilled before puffing up and spreading her wings as if waiting for a hug. Harry wrapped his arms around her hugging her gently.

Hermione smiled a bit as she watched, happy that Harry had gotten a spot of hope in this dark time in his life. Shaking her head, she then returned her gaze to the parchment in her hand, rereading it before looking back at Hedwig.

"Ah, here Hedwig, let me take the package from you," Hermione said approaching them. 

Hedwig held out her leg and Hermione untied the package before planting a kiss on top of Hedwig's head. 

"Glad to have you back girl," the brunette said, before backing off.  

Unshrinking and unwrapping the package, she searched through the books until she found the one Godric had marked, flipping it open to the bookmarked section.  She then read the chapter title and paled, bringing her hand up to her mouth briefly in surprise.

"H-Harry, you might want to come read this with me," she said shakily.

 Harry looked over with an alarmed expression, allowing Hedwig to perch on his shoulder as he walked over and sat down with his friend before reading over her shoulder, his eyes widening at the title alone.

‘Chapter 16, Godric's Hollow’

The pair was silent for a bit then exchanged a look.

"I think we had better get reading Hermione. This is a pretty long book," Harry said cautiously. 

Hermione nodded and looked back at the book as she read it out loud.

"When Harry woke the following day it was several seconds before he remembered what happened..."

------------------

Several days and a move to the Forest of Dean later found them just finishing the book.

"Remus, Tonks, Fred, Collin...even Lavender and Sn-no, Severus," Harry mumbled in shock.

"Plus another 50 people we don’t know," Hermione took a deep breath and turned to Harry, a decision having clearly been made in her mind "I think we should help Godric. Even if we erase our whole current time line, this is too big for us to just ignore."

Harry nodded and Hermione caught a determined glint light up his eyes.

"I agree Hermione, if for nothing else but Teddy having his parents still around when he goes to Hogwarts in the new timeline," he said confidently.

"Harry, it might not even happen in the new timeline," Hermione mumbled quietly. 

Harry considered this then nodded, his voice quiet as he replied, "True, but the way I see it is that if someone else made a choice like that for me, I think I'd want them to erase my existence rather than live without my parents."

Nodding absent mindedly, Hermione picked up the enchanted parchment from the table. 

"I was having trouble believing it before, but Godric Gryffindor really seems to have broken the barriers of time and contacted us. What’s our decision, Harry?" she said looking at the former Gryffindor seeker. 

Harry stared at the book they had just finished reading, contemplating the situation before looking up at Hermione, a clear decision having been made in his mind. "I think we should help him. But I think we should let the Weasleys, Remus, and Tonks know what’s going on.  It wouldn’t be fair to them for us to decide this before erasing our entire reality with them being unaware of what’s going on," he responded after a few moments of silence.  

Nodding, his friend spoke up, her voice quiet as she replied, "I completely agree with that. It really wouldn’t be fair to them."

Hedwig chirped to gain their attention before holding out her leg for them. Harry smiled before petting her. 

"Good idea girl, you could take them right to them via Flash Fire."

Half an hour later, 7 similar packs of letters appeared from a ball of fire in front of their recipients. Each package contained a copy of the letter from Godric to explain most of it, along with a letter from Harry and Hermione and a copy of the marked section of the book they had been reading. ----------------

Fred and George Weasley were the first to read over Harry and Hermione's letter, having received it late that night in their hide-a-way.

‘Dear Gred and Forge,

I know it’s been several months now, but we're still alive and kicking. We (that is to say Hermione and I; Ronald took off on us and we don’t know where he is) ask you to keep most of these things off Potterwatch. If You-Know-Who (ack, I should wash my mouth out with soap) were to catch wind of this, it could put a major chink in our plans.

I’m writing to you two in order to let you know that a mutual friend is messing with time. The changes they're making will most likely erase everything as it is now. Everything from the summer before Hermione and I’s first year at Hogwarts up to now will all be erased if this gamble works.

We've got two reasons to let you know this. One is that we feel it would be unfair to you to make this decision and leave you unprepared. The other reason…well, part of it is explained in the other letter in this package. That letter is a copy of what Hermione and I got from our mutual friend. And the other thing in the package is also explained in the other letter, we made sure to highlight the relevant sections of that.

If you agree to help us, could you send us any text book and research notes on spells and potions you can get your hands on? Thanks. After you've read the other letter you'll know who to call if you decide to help us.

Thank you, H. J. P.’

"Well brother mine, looks like we have a way to cause some chaos on our hands, brought to us by the Boy-who-Lived himself," George stated, a mischievous smile on his face.  

Fred nodded in response, an excited tone in his voice, "It seems our secret investor and Miss G could use our help. Do we agree to help them no matter what we read in this other letter?" 

They both grinned for the first time in months and answered together.

"Let’s do it!"

A day or two later found them calling for Hedwig and practically shoving a charmed pouch full of their old Hogwarts textbooks and research notes, along with a letter at her as they spoke in unison.

"Hedwig darling, be a dear and bring these to them please."

-----------

While Molly and Arthur, Remus and Tonks, Bill and Fleur, Minerva (together with Fillius and Poppy), and finally Charlie all got pretty much the same letters as the twins and responded much the same way, one person had received his letter in a more tenuous manner. Severus, due to his precarious situation, received his the next night in his private quarters.

‘Dear Severus,

Sir, forgive me for my arrogance and for doubting you. It will never happen again, I swear it on my life and magic.  With that said, I'll keep this simple.

I’m writing to you in order to let you know that a mutual friend is messing with time. The changes they're making will most likely erase everything as it is now. Everything from the summer before Hermione and I’s first year at Hogwarts up to now will all be erased if this gamble works.

We've got two reasons to let you know this. One is that we feel it would be unfair to you to make this decision and leave you unprepared. The other reason…well, part of it is explained in the other letter in this package. That letter is a copy of what Hermione and I got from our mutual friend. And the other thing in the package is also explained in the other letter, we made sure to highlight the relevant sections of that.

If you agree to help us, could you send us any text book and research notes on spells and potions you can get your hands on? Thanks. After you've read the other letter you'll know who to call if you decide to help us. That’s what we've told the others who we've sent letters to. But due to your precarious position sir, I'd like to add (probably unnecessarily, but better safe than sorry) that it would be better if you destroyed all of this after you've memorized the contents of this package so that it doesn’t fall into "You-know-Who's" hands.

As this will most likely be the final time we communicate, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me and for my mother. As bad as what you did to her in your 5th year was, you've more than made up for it. I hope in this new timeline that you and I can get better acquainted.

Sincerely, H. J. P.’

Severus Snape sighed before settling his resolve.  After reading over the letter a few more times to memorize it, he quickly proceeded to burn it before moving onto the next letter. At this, his face paled as he read Godric's letter before repeating the process and burning it while shoving the information deep behind his occlumency barriers. With this complete, he finally settled down to read the thick book Potter had sent him.

Several nights later found him calling for Potter's phoenix to send copies of all of his potion books and notes (plus some Dark Arts and Occlumency books) to Potter and Granger, along with a note of his own. 

"Bird, please wish them luck for me," he whispered quietly. "Let him know that I am sorry for the way I've always treated him, alright?"

Hedwig tilted her head and suddenly wrapped her wings around him as if hugging him, before trilling softly while flashing away. Severus watched the spot where she had vanished for some time before sitting down and sighing, summoning a shot glass and a bottle of fire whiskey to himself before pouring himself a shot.

"Potter......no, Harry," he mumbled to himself while raising the glass in a cheer "Here's to hoping this gamble pays off for the betterment of our future." 

With that, he got up and headed to his chambers, the moment of Hedwig's trill lingering in his mind.

---------------------------

An: Chapter 2 is done. The "Cannon" charectors besides Harry and Hermione will not making a reapperence from this point foreward. Also there is 1 more chapter to come in this Book. Then I will be moving onto Book 2. Also Godric and MABYE Merlin will reappear in Book 3. Im SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO excited!

Also thanks to all the people who read Chapter 1 and the others who favorited and followed this story, it means a lot to me. R&R

[hp-nextgen-fest]

2020 HP Next Gen Fest Anonymous Masterlist

Here is the complete Anonymous Masterlist for the 2020 @hp-nextgen-fest! Reveals will be going up next Monday on November 30, so there is still plenty of time to make your way through any entries you might have missed. Don't forget to leave some comments on these amazing creations to let the authors and artists know how much you've enjoyed their hard work! :D

ART

AcciDental Magic [Rose, Hugo, & Grandparents | General] Hermione and Ron are called away for a case and left without their usual child-minder when Molly falls ill. Hermione’s parents step up to keep Hugo and Rose, in spite of Hermione’s warning that the two little ones have some big issues with accidental magic. The story is told comic book style, with illustrations and voice bubbles.

Woke up married! [James Sirius/Teddy | General] They get well and truly bladdered at Albus's stag do and wake up in bed together with matching wedding bands...

Sunday Practice [James Sirius/Teddy | General] Teddy thought that morning practice on Sunday was going to be something he would soon regret, but things may turn more interesting than expected.

Introduction [Albus, Severus, & Albus Severus | General] Albus Severus Potter gets to know the men he's named for by asking them about the experiences, memories, and motives that shaped their lives.

Eyecandy [James Sirius/Teddy | General] After months of extensive Auror training, Teddy comes with the Potters to the beach. James. Cannot. Stop. Staring. At. Teddy. Shirtless.

FIC

We Keep Loving Anyway [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 7.1k] After Albus finds out Scorpius is part vampire he can’t stop thinking about being bitten. He can’t stop thinking about Scorpius in general, but that’s been the case since he was fifteen. At least, when it comes to Scorpius he’s used to not getting what he wants. He’s happy with what he has, or at least, comfortable. That is until he accidentally asks for it, then it all starts to change.

The perks of Veritaserum [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 5.1k] James drank a long-lasting version of Veritaserum and is miserable and Teddy is having the time of his life. That is, until they’re both having the time of their lives.

Thunderstruck [Charlie/Teddy | Explicit | 2.6k] There’s not a lot for dragon tamers to do when stuck inside during a storm, but looking at this particular new recruit―well, Charlie can’t help but think of a few ways they could pass the time.

Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Mature | 1.7k] Away on a book tour Albus Severus Malfoy grows a very creepy mustache, much to the horror of his still at home husband Scorpius Malfoy.

Mission in Nairn [Draco/Lily Luna | Explicit | 7k] Lily Luna Potter is paired with Draco Malfoy for her first Auror Mission. On their last night, she decides to act on the lingering tension that had been building up between them.

No Other Alpha But You [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Explicit | 7.1k] Scorpius Malfoy has applied to be Albus' heat partner. There's no way James is letting that happen.

The Scorpion King [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 3.8k] Scorpius Malfoy, AKA the Scorpion King, has ruled Britain ever since his father turned his sights to conquering Europe. With his right-hand man and most trusted advisor, Albus Potter, Scorpius has a life of elegance and power. But he's had enough of the beautiful women that usually grace his bed. Scorpius has decided he wants something else in bed. Something more. Scorpius Malfoy wants Albus Potter.

Islands of the Upper Air [Lily Luna/Luna | General | 1.5k] Lily Luna has never liked her namesake, or her strange and sometimes absurd way of looking at the world. But a weekend full of ancient rituals and mountain forests is an eye opener, in more ways than one.

Expecto Patronum!! [James Sirius/Teddy | Mature | 45.7k] James Potter had always known exactly what he wanted; to open a pub of his own, maybe travel the world, and live a simple life with the only man he’d ever loved. For years he waited, quietly determined to help Teddy see what could be between them. But just when everything he’d ever dreamed of was finally within his reach, it was ripped away in an instant. With Teddy missing, and presumed dead, James is left to pick up the pieces. John has no idea what he wants. He doesn’t even know who he is. But when he hears a strikingly familiar voice – on an otherwise ordinary day – he sets out to discover everything he can about the man that occupies his dreams. And Harry, well, Harry just wants to put his failures behind him. Until a series of unexpected events forces him to reexamine a case that he’d given up on solving. With the help of an unexpected ally, he just might find the answers he’s been looking for.

lily's potter [Lily Luna/Lysander & Lily Luna/Draco | Mature | 8.3k] "But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?” She took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.” Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?” “Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”

Snaked a Claim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Teen | 1.6k] Everyone knew Albus was gay from age five when he would dramatically swoon every time Goncalo Flores the Quidditch player was mentioned. Twenty years later and Harry still tells the tale - much to Al’s embarrassment.

And I Fell Heavy (Into Your Arms) [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 9.1k] When James Sirius Potter travels to America for three weeks, the turquoise-haired Healer Teddy Lupin misses his boyfriend very much indeed. Luckily, Teddy has (sexy) floo calls, charmed obsidian pendants and hastily made chastity promises to keep him busy. Based on the following prompt: Absence makes the heart grow fonder... Right? Smutty phone!sex? Longing letters? All up to you!

Dirty Duelling [Albus Severus/Draco | Explicit | 6.1k] Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (Or — fucked up Dirty Dancing with wand fights)

Albus’ Private Lesson of Sex Education [Albus Severus/James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 4.5k] Albus has some doubts about sex. Luckily he has an older brother, who can initiate him. How does this lesson go? James will be the teacher, Albus his good and obedient student and Teddy will be more than happy to serve them as a learning tool. In which a delicious Teddy sandwich is served.

Four Reasons [James Sirius/Teddy | General | 8.1k] There were a couple of things James should've considered more seriously before coming back to work at Hogwarts as the new Flying Instructor. His dad being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there, for one. The fact that he hadn't really flown since a career-ending injury had put an abrupt end to his Quidditch fame two years ago, for another. His ridiculous, teenage crush on Teddy Lupin, his friend and Hogwarts' newest Charms professor, perhaps most of all.

An Interlude [Lavender/Victoire | Explicit | 4.9k] Victoire is supposed to be chasing a serial killer, not shagging her uncle’s dead ex-girlfriend.

Mint & Apples [Harry/Teddy | Explicit | 4.3k] Teddy Lupin's not-quite-wolf has chosen Harry Potter as his mate, that's all. He hasn't got a crush on his best friend's father, really. He also definitely isn't obsessed with Harry Potter's scent.

This is Love [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 24.8k] Most of Albus’s bad life decisions can be summed up in a word: James. When he got a shitty tattoo in the Fifth Year—done by some bloke in a dirty flat—well, that was James’s idea. When he got picked up by Aurors for doing hallucinogens—James was the one who’d convinced him to do them at a party. That time they stole the flying motorbike Dad gave to Teddy—James was the one who insisted it was a rite of passage to drive it over London at dawn. Neither Dad nor Teddy was impressed with that explanation. Now, here Albus is living another bad choice that was born of James’s influence.

The Balance Between Studying and Relaxing [Rose/Teddy | Explicit | 3.7k] Rose has been studying non-stop for her upcoming barrister exam. With Hermione attending Hugo’s Quidditch trials for moral support and Ron away on business, there’s only one person available to keep an eye on her. And Teddy is only too happy to take the role.

The last ones to know [Albus Severus/Scorpius | General | 5.2k] Albus and Scorpius have a very close relationship. Everyone can see it. Perhaps they are the last ones to know jus how close they are.

You've Got A Second Chance (You Could Go Home) [James Sirius/Teddy | Teen | 16k] “What about James?” James, dear Merlin, not James, not again. His boy, his son, the brightest star in the constellation of Harry’s patchwork family, not him. “I think he’s relapsed.” – They tried this when James was nineteen and Teddy was twenty five. It crashed and burned. Teddy ran away to Finland and James... well Teddy's about to find out what happened to James, now that he's back two years later.

Falling for You [James Sirius/Scorpius | General | 1.2k] Scorpius didn't care about Quidditch until he saw James Sirius on a broom.

Heart-Shaped Ottoman [Draco/Teddy | Explicit | 6.3k] Draco has had interns before, but none so bothersome as Teddy Lupin.

Living With Our Eyes Half Open [James Sirius & Scorpius | Teen | 5.5k] James didn’t mean to get his brother-in-law kidnapped alongside him that morning, but that is definitely what happened.

Faim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 9.6k] "So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack. Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird Or: Scorbus go to France.

Unexpected [Lily Luna/Pansy | Explicit | 1.2k] Draco and Harry's engagement party brings about an unexpected, but not unwelcome, event.

Remember to Forget [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Mature| 17.5k] The moment they kissed, James and Albus knew that they'd never be able to live without this -- too in love to walk away. Years later, and well into adulthood, the possible repercussions of their relationship feel very real and very scary. Without the strength to break it off, they're left with a single solution: a company that specializes in erasing and altering memories. Now the only thing left to do, is to say goodbye.