#i can always get out of the hedge clippers later

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

i often feel like i'm over-explaining when i write original fic but i've spent enough time trying to decipher old drafts where i was clearly trying to imply something and cannot for the life of me remember what that i've decided over-explaining in the first draft might be a good thing, actually

[devildomwriter]

One Little Thing, A Ring Part III | Mammon x Reader

.6K Words | GN Reader | CW: Angst

With Lucifer’s help, a wardrobe change, and strict instructions, Mammon had landed a decent paying gig. The only place that would hire him was the Demon Lord’s Castle and Mammon had his work cut out.

Barbatos delighted in putting Mammon to work as much as possible. He and Diavolo knew why Mammon was there and as two men who’d also competed for your heart, they were going to make Mammon work for you. It was meant to be educational but it was also for their own satisfaction as some sense of revenge.

“I still don’t understand. Why Mammon?” Diavolo asked Lucifer as they sipped on their tea and watched Mammon prune the roses from the balcony.

“___ has peculiar taste.” Lucifer complained.

“Careful Mammon, that’s our favorite bush,” Barbatos called down to him and Mammon audibly panicked and with trembling hands started carefully trimming branches down one by one.

“Must you tease him?” Lucifer asked and Barbatos grinned.

“I must, yes. ___ deserves nothing less than perfect so we must ensure that that is what they receive. If we cannot give that to them, we must make sure Mammon does.”

Diavolo nodded in agreement with his butler and paused after taking another sip. “You know…they could always be interested in polygamy. If not now then later down the road. Surely Mammon as entertaining as he can be can’t provide for them like any of us could.”

Lucifer nodded and sipped his tea. “I agree. Thanks to their magic they’ll live a very long time. We must be patient, that’s all.”

Diavolo nodded but Lucifer could notice the small shake as he set the tea down gently. Everyone reacted in their own ways to your relationship with Mammon and Diavolo did his best to bottle it up but sometimes he couldn’t help small moments of sadness or anger slipping through.

The labor intensive work he was putting Mammon through was one example. Mammon wasn’t aware of it but Diavolo intended to pay whatever the cost may be for the ring Mammon thought best for you. Diavolo wouldn’t allow you to be disappointed.

“Speaking of ___, where are they right now?” Barbatos inquired as he kept his eye trained on Mammon who was attempting to use hedge clippers.

“I believe they’re doing some kind of job with the sorcerer’s association.”

“Taking on odd jobs?” Diavolo asked, curious.

Lucifer shrugged, “they aren’t talking much about it. They’re very tired by the time they come home. Not only do they have work but then they must portal themselves into another dimension and do it all again in a few hours.”

“Mm…it’s odd they’d take on a job like that considering they can do essentially anything they wanted to,” Diavolo speculated and it stayed silent as they listened to Mammon panic as he stumbled upon a nest of Hellfire Wasps.

“Oh dear…I suppose I ought to call for the exterminator,” Barbatos sighed. “Perhaps Mammon could work.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “No. Call a professional before the situation worsens.” Lucifer advised but truly he was worried Mammon would get stung to hell and as much as he was jealous right now, he wasn’t going to let Barbatos and Diavolo thrust Mammon into agonizing danger.

Diavolo knew that’s why Lucifer made the suggestion and relented for his friend’s sake. “That’s most advisable,” he nodded and Lucifer relaxed into his chair as he heard Mammon screaming and running across the yard.

Mammon was fast enough to escape but began crashing into things in the process. Lucifer glanced at Barbatos who was eying him exasperatedly.

“Send the bill later.”

Barbatos nodded, “I could deduct it from his pay.”

Lucifer waved his hand in disagreement, “just send the bill.”

Just as Lucifer began feeling bad for Mammon, Mammon scaled the wall and used Lucifer as a shield against the wasps. The wasps were instantly vaporized from Lucifer’s magic as he tore Mammon a new one for leading dangerous creatures straight to the prince.

Part I • Part II • Part IV • Part V

[thebestworstidea]

The Green Knight’s Lady (4)

Sequel fic to “The Witch and the Green Knight” (on Ao3)

Warnings: undeserved redemption arc, graphic imagery and as of this chapter violence against minors.

Chapter 1: In which Rowan has Unexpected House Guests

Chapter 2: In Which They Try to Figure Out What the Hell is Going On

Chapter 3: In Which Remus and Rowan’s Stupidity Escalates to Treason (sort of)

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

Chapter 4: In Which Life is Difficult

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

     The winter waned in a sloppy miserable way, kicking out with a few snowstorms like the flailing of a dying animal. Despite not really being bothered by the cold, D.N. practically hibernated, most often found in a window seat in the library, going through Rowan’s Mother’s books and being snarky about bad information about fairies. Rowan was fairly sure it was just a way to safely lash out. She dug out an old laptop and gave him access to the Netflix account. If nothing else it kept him distracted. Something Rowan had learned was that the fair folk did, as legend said, love stories. 

And apparently, soap operas and romcoms.

Like herself, Remus seemed out of sorts in the late winter, though more in the way of someone who had woken up long before they wanted to. He’d gone into the woods and returned dressed in his more normal attire, also having brought back a few changes of clothing that was closer to D.N.’s size, and of a finer make than anything in the Baker house, despite Rowan’s sister’s cautious attempt to find a fabric the fae child would like. For the most part, the rest of Rowan’s family treated D.N. with cautious courtesy, and a certain level of ‘not be alone in a room with him’. Remus, by contrast, was treated more as a benign nuisance, though not without kindness.  Frankly, that was more understandable than Rowan’s blase attitude. That didn’t stop a certain level of speculation as to why ‘Leif’ and his friend were staying with them.

     “I’ve figured it out!” 

Rowan balled a pair of socks and tossed it in her sister’s basket across the table. They were sorting the laundry by owner, and Rowan had made it her mission to find as many pairs of socks as she could. 

“Figured what out?” 

“What’s going on with Leif and the kid!” 

“Have you now?” Rowan said dryly and a little nervously. Her sister nodded. 

“It’s pretty obvious if you think about it. The kid is the spawn of the last fairy king.”

“What.” 

“Look, it’s obvious that Leif served him, right? And we know he’s dead. So then Leif disappears for months and reappears with a kid? With scales? We know that Leif’s traveled outside Wickhills before- so clearly he knew where the kid was, maybe he was even the one who took him away, probably more of a Cronos eating his kids thing than a Arthur sent into hiding thing, and now he brought him back.” She pursed her lips. “You know, I bet Leif can change genders like a frog.”

Rowan started laughing. 

“Leif might even be the mother-” she went on. 

“Definitely not.” Rowan choked. 

“But he is related. I’ve connected the dots.” she said smugly.

“You haven’t connected shit.” Rowan retorted throwing a pair of pants at her.

“I’ve connected them.”

     As spring burgeoned forth, Remus agitated with the need to leave the house. It was clear he wasn’t used to staying in one place, even for a few weeks like this. Rowan could always tell when Remus had gone wandering in the night, because D.N. didn’t come down from the attic until he’d come back. It wasn’t as if D.N. was avoiding his so-called hosts, so much as he was totally avoiding the humans in the house as much as possible as if by pretending they weren’t there he could pretend none of this was happening. 

When spring officially arrived Rowan made them clothing, a shirt of heavy green broadcloth for Remus, and a more delicate shirt of the finest white linen she had for D.N. The shirt he generally wore was made of undyed silk, and Rowan feared that the substance had come from the shroud- or rather bag- she’d sewn for the bones of the Serpent King. It was tricky to give them, as D.N. certainly wanted no gifts from her, and Remus wanted to gift her in return. But it was simply tradition, that for the first day of spring everyone had a new garment. So her green brother and erstwhile guest needed something new too, for luck. Honestly, Rowan thought he could probably use all the luck he could get.

     It was a fine warm day in mid April, when leaves were finally starting to show, and only the most stubborn bits of snow were sticking around in the darkest shadows, when Rowan was working in her garden.

“Little tree! You’re wearing pants!” 

The whippy rose vine Rowan had been arguing with slipped out of her hand as the twist tie sprang from her other, and she took the momentary break to glare at Remus, who had appeared in her personal bubble with no warning whatsoever.

“I wear pants all the time.” she retorted, giving him a half hearted shove. 

“Yeah, but usually you have dresses over ‘em.” theatrically, he collapsed to the scrubby grass outside the garden and sprawled in the sun. 

“Well, I learned that arguing with rose bushes in a dress doesn’t end well for the dress.” She grabbed hold again with her gloved hand, and pulled a fresh tie out of her apron pocket, lashing the thorny vine to the wrought iron trellis that kept most fae out of her garden. They could, in theory, pass under the iron arbor that faced the wood, wreathed as it was in plants, but until Remus it hadn’t been much of a problem. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly. He was looking better. He’d been kind of wan, a sickly sort of green rather than his normal healthy hue like a ripening acorn. 

“Starting to feel my oats.” He responded, tipping his face into the sun. “It’s a good spring. I’d say that spring was happy about something.” in the distance, a door opened and closed.

“Seasons do seem to have emotions.” She agreed, and had to step delicately over him to get to the next bush, pulling clippers from her pocket and studying the bush thoughtfully, before pruning a few branches, and returning to tucking them in safely so they wouldn’t grab passers by too badly.  That done she carried the trimmed branches away. D.N. emerged from the widdershins side of the house, having exited the front door and walked so he didn’t have to pass the rowan tree, even if he could do so under the protection of the porch. He glared down at Remus with frustration. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Having a kip?” Remus suggested, as Rowan stepped over him again to get back to the rose bushes. 

“You should tell me as soon as you come back from the forest.” he said grouchily, not making eye contact. 

“Well, not much is going on, so there’s nothing to tell you.” Remus shrugged. 

“That’s good right?” Rowan asked. 

“A secret unsaid is a secret kept.” D.N. muttered, not addressing Rowan at all. “What are you doing out there anyway?” 

“Favors.” Remus sighed. “So many favors. I’m not exactly a favorite right now. People don’t want me to do favors for them, but I need the currency. Also fixing up my house.” he rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s kind of out of the way, so it might be safe enough. It’s nice enough to visit with my little tree, but…”

“We can’t stay here forever.” D.N. agreed. “It buzzes.” 

“Yeah.” Remus nodded. “So I’ve got some improvements to make, and gotta reassert my territory. No one got near the tree, but I don’t have much around it.” he clicked his tongue “Fun and all, but I’m in a hurry.”  he made a kissy face at them both. “But I’ll always hurry back to you.” 

Rowan snorted, and D.N. rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and cocked his hip, glaring down at the green-clad fae. 

“I’m sure whatever you stay in is better than this.”

“Hey, owch. It’s a good house. We finally got the roof fixed last year.” Rowan glared, waving her clippers at him. D.N. leaned away. 

“Well it’s hardly the hovel I’ve seen other witches live in,” he sneered at the Victorian style house. “But it isn’t anywhere I would choose to stay.” 

“Sorry for not being a magical house.”

“Oh it’s full of magic alright. Human magic, thick and inelegant, like mud on the bottom of a pond.”

“I like mud.” Remus commented, popping up and bracing himself upright on his hands. Rowan noticed that his knuckles were reddened and split. Putting her clippers away again, she dug into her other pocket, coming up with a small, shallow clay pot, closed with a wide cork. She crouched down and grabbed one hand, dabbing the ointment onto the wounds. Remus obligingly offered his other hand when she was done. 

“Why was this in your pocket?”

“It’s better to get the ointment on big jabs right away, and I’m doing lawn work.” she shrugged, and went back to her work. 

After a while, Rowan finished her discussion with the rosebushes, and headed back inside without saying anything. Shortly after that, a car drove up hidden by the bulk of the house. Another short while later, it drove away again. Rowan returned to her garden, hooking her apron over her head again.

“Bloody busy-body is what she is.” Rowan grumbled to herself. “No need to come by every time, her tea hasn’t changed in over a year, if I wanted everyone coming by and bothering me all the time I’d start up a tea room in town and read palms and cards. It’s what I get for being helpful and offering to do a unique blend.” 

“Can you tell the future?” Remus asked, popping up on the other side of the hedge wall of rose bushes, making Rowan yelp and clutch her rake. 

“Like the weather.” She retorted. “Which is to say, not really worth anything.” 

“You’re a useless kind of witch, aren’t you?” sniffed D.N. who had taken up a seat in an Adirondack style chair they had acquired somewhere, and everyone in the Baker family hated, which is why it wasn’t on the porch.

“Yeah, kind of.” she didn’t rise to the bait, and watched him stare at the woods. “You could go, you know.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s keeping you here if you wanted to leave.”

“Little tree-” Remus said, sounding hurt. 

“Not you, you’re welcome any time. And for that matter, if he wants to go for a bit and come back, that’s fine.”

“I can’t actually. I have to ‘stay here’ until further notice.” 

“Oh right. Fairy parole officer.” Rowan sighed. “Well you could probably get as far as the property line, or where our ‘official’ lot meets up with the woods.”

“It isn’t as if I’m desperate to wander in the woodlands, Witch, I just don’t want to be here. At all.”

“Boy, do I hear that.”  she sighed deeply, pausing to look into the woods herself. The small leaves were misting the tips of the trees with color, and there was a smell of wet and rot in the air. It looked like a storm was building in the west.  It would probably hit the before nightfall, gathering the dark in the clouds and making the night come that much faster in the growing spring day. Better to get her gardening done before it hit, so she’d only have to repair the damage it did, not do that and the maintenance. The plants were being especially springy this year, and she was tempted to put this down to Remus’s presence. 

D.N. continued to watch her, as though she was some sort of reality TV show, while Remus sprawled in the scrubby grass next to his chair. 

When the first cold wet gust hit, all three of them headed inside.

     The storm was really having fun, so they were in Rowan’s room instead of the loft. Remus liked to hang out with both of them, so Rowan coming to work on whatever she was doing -some sort of project involving embroidery floss at the moment- and sit with Remus while Remus would root through her work basket, or bring out a pouch and do something himself- embroidery, or sharpening knives, occasionally woodcarving. Sometimes he’d sit behind Rowan and brush or play with her hair, braiding it into elaborate arrangements that she’d have to ask for help to undo.

Sometimes Danger Noodle would use Remus as a cushion or a backrest as if he was staking his claim. That night however, he’d pulled the beat up floral armchair Rowan kept next to one of her windows to a different window (further away from the dancing limbs of the rowan tree) and settled down with a book.

Rowan noticed that he would raise his hand and rub the back of his neck occasionally as if it were hurting. She nudged Remus’s leg and inclined her head at D.N. He shrugged.

“Are you in pain somehow?” Rowan asked, startling him into dropping his book.

“Kindly mind your own business.” Danger Noodle sneered. 

“Are you cold?” Remus asked. “You do-” he rubbed the back of his neck “lots.” 

D.N. growled under his breath, picking the book up. 

“It isn’t important.” He told them. 

“But it is a thing.”

“You never used to.”

He sighed, explosively. “Are you two going to leave me alone about this?”

“Well now I’m curious.” Rowan admitted tipping her head with a smile on her face that reminded D.N. far too much of Remus’s mischievous expression. If it weren’t for her obvious humanity, he would think they were siblings. “If you’re cold, I could get you a blanket, is all.” 

“I’m not cold.” he rolled his eyes. “I’m a winter.”

She looked unimpressed. “So what’s with the lounging in sunbeams?” 

Danger Noodle sneered at her, scales glinting in the lamplight. 

“It's just a feeling.  It’s like a cold hand on the back of my neck, it’s not squeezing but it’s there.” D.N. spread his fingers over the back of his neck.  “Like something’s watching me, constantly.” 

“Huh.” Remus and Rowan said in unison, heads tipping to the side. Danger Noodle glared, there was no way they weren’t doing that on purpose. 

“Might be something?” Remus asked thoughtfully, looking at the corners of the room. 

“I’d want to keep an eye on him, if it were me.” Rowan admitted. 

D.N. sighed again, exasperated, then Remus perked up digging in one of the many pockets inside his vest.  After a search he came up with a bag, tied firmly shut with cord. He climbed off the bed and went to kneel next to the armchair instead. 

“I made this for you.” Remus opened the intricately tied knot, and from inside the bag, produced a scarf. It looked like heavy silk of some sort, dyed a beautiful saffron yellow, covered in single-thread embroidery. Vines twisted and twined along it, with a snake hidden among them.  D.N. stared at it for a long moment, then recoiled. 

“Are you out of your mind? Wait, never mind I retract the question.” 

“I made it for you a while ago but…” Remus admitted. “You wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I’m not taking it now.” He stood up, tossing the book on the chair. “What makes you think I would even want it?” 

“You’re not as strong now-” 

Danger Noodle hissed, flashing sharp teeth, pupils narrow. 

“-so I’m going to protect you until you’re stronger.” Remus finished as if  he hadn’t just been threatened. 

“I am still stronger than you.” the young fae said disdainfully, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height.

“Are you though?” Rowan asked, setting her project down and watching them. 

“I am certainly more powerful than you.” 

“Oh, that’s not even a question.” 

“So what this looks like is Remus is offering you his favor to wear, showing that you’re his...  I’m going to say ‘ward’, because you’re a kid.”

“I am not a kid!” D.N. retorted, stamping his foot like a child. 

“And therefore under his protection. Displaying a connection.” 

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah.” Remus agreed. 

“Which is why I’m not interested.” 

“I don’t have to give you an oath to give you my favor.” Remus pointed out, he just stared up at Danger Noodle entreatingly.  The room was silent except for the storm outside, and the faint sound of someone watching a movie elsewhere in the house. D.N. rubbed the back of his neck again, and Rowan shivered, like a gust of cold air had made it through the window. Her eyes shut and she saw dead branches against a milky sky. Blinking the vision away, she got to see D.N. throw his hands in the air. 

“Uugh enough with the eyes. Fine. I’ll take it, but it doesn’t mean anything.” He accepted the scarf and looped it around his neck, spreading the folds upward to the base of his hair. 

“It means you’re wearing something I made you.” Remus pointed out and rose up, gathering Danger Noodle into a hug, to which he submitted, to Rowan’s surprise. “Which makes me happy.” 

“Mmgnh. Fuck off.” D.N. mumbled, face pressed to Remus’s bicep. 

Rowan decided not to comment on how cute it was.

[dripwala]

Kitchen Gardening

Kitchen Gardening:

Kitchen gardening is constructed with the sole purpose of growing vegetables that can be grown all year round. It is a more practical garden with a hedge or stone walls to contain the garden. Kitchen gardens are conducive to grow herbs, fruits, and vegetables.

There are two types of kitchen gardening. The first type takes place in your kitchen and can involve either re-growing veggies from food scraps or growing herbs and veggies on your windowsill. But we will discuss the type of kitchen gardening that takes place outdoors. It involves growing fresh, organic vegetables right outside your back door.

How is kitchen gardening different from “regular” vegetable gardening?

A renewed interest in kitchen gardening, however, is bringing this tradition back into vogue. I took the question of how a kitchen garden differs from a vegetable patch, and here’s what I get to know about it: “what makes a kitchen garden unique from a ‘regular’ vegetable garden is that it’s typically smaller, tended more often, and designed to connect more aesthetically with the design and architecture of the home.” Kitchen gardens are designed spaces with symmetrical beds organized and planted in an aesthetically pleasing way. In other words, kitchen gardens are not only productive, but they’re also pretty. They’re also meant for fresh eating, rather than for growing large amounts of food for canning and preserving.

Where To Put Kitchen Garden?

“Of course, you want to prioritize sunlight most,” The location you plan to have a kitchen garden should get adequate sunlight for at least 4 to 5 hours a day, preferable morning sunlight but even a little shade. Then, you’ll want to be sure you’re near a water source. Once you’ve thought about sunlight and water, then consider the aesthetics of your home and how you could extend one line or another and create a new space that feels like it’s always been a part of your home. In other words, don’t hastily plunk in a kitchen garden. Think through which space on your property you’d most like to spend time in that also has plenty of light. That’s where you want the garden; not far away and out of sight, but as closely tied to your everyday life as possible. A kitchen garden can be grown in the backyard, terrace, or just a pot. In India, if you have a terrace, you have ample space and sunlight for the plants. If you are planning to have a kitchen garden in your apartment, even a windowsill will be a good location.

If you are going to use pots (earthen or plastic) to grow your produce, you got to take care of the following points:

Proper space to help the plants grow.

Pots should have holes to help in proper drainage.

You can use milk cartons, used plastic bottles, etc. as pots for your kitchen garden.

Soil Usage:

To get the best homegrown crops from your kitchen garden you need to make sure your soil is up to scratch. It’s useful to test the pH levels of the soil in your vegetable garden to help you select crops to suit it. Soil testing kits don’t cost much and are readily available online.

You can make your kitchen garden soil by yourself at home. Make a mixture of 50% soil and 50% compost. You can collect all your kitchen wet waste like tea leaves, eggshells, vegetable peels, etc, and instead of throwing it in the garbage, gather it in a pot with soil for a few days.

While planting your vegetables or fruits for your kitchen garden, fill the container with a mixture of soil and compost three-quarters (add in a few pebbles or crushed thermocol pieces to prevent clogging in the pot). Plant the seeds or vegetables and spray the water just enough to moisten the soil. Always try not to overwater the soil as it could lead to rotting of the roots. To find out if the soil is dry, insert any finger in the soil till the knuckle to check if the soil is moist and water accordingly.

Weeding and working the soil:

First thing to do is to clear all the weeds or plants or turf (the latter can be stashed somewhere with the grass facedown; after a while, it will become great topsoil that you can put back on the bed for next season). Dig over the soil, then cover the vegetable patch with clear plastic sheeting for a couple of weeks to dry out and warm up the soil (if you’re starting off in spring, which is ideal). This will also help any dormant weeds emerge so that you can whip them out before you start planting.

Improving your soil

The next thing to do is improve the soil – and it never hurts to. You can do this by digging in organic matter, such as well-rotted manure or compost. Your local garden center might also have composted bark, mushroom compost, or leaf mold. Ask them – assuming the staff is knowledgeable – what best suits the local soil. And if they know, ask them if you need to do anything else.

Soils are generally on a spectrum from clay to sand and can vary from place to place within your garden. All soils will benefit from the addition of organic matter to retain moisture and nutrients.

Clay soil needs breaking up and takes longer to warm up so suits later crops. Light soils are good for early vegetables but need large quantities of manure and compost to avoid water draining away too rapidly. The ideal soil is loose, crumbly loam, which absorbs and holds water and nutrients, is well aerated, and drains freely.

Vegetables To Grow In Kitchen Gardening:

You can grow a lot of things in a kitchen garden but that doesn’t mean you should. A kitchen garden is all about setting priorities. You can either grow a lot of a few things or a little of a lot of things, but you can’t really do both. You can grow all your herbs, nearly all of your greens, and the fruiting plants. Here is a list of crops you can cultivate in your kitchen garden.

Advantages Of Kitchen Garden:

Help to save expenditure on purchase of vegetables.

Vegetables harvested from the home gardens taste better than those purchased from the market.

Effective utilization of kitchen wastewater and kitchen waste materials.

You get to eat more homegrown seasonal vegetables and herbs that are free from harmful pesticides and toxic chemicals.

There’s better control over what goes in your meal when you are growing it yourself, making it a healthier option and adding some nutritional value to your diet.

Kitchen gardening is a very healthy way to involve the whole family in physical activity, it brings exercise to the body and mind.

Kitchen gardening also helps clean up a lot of air around your home.

Your kitchen garden goes a long way in healing the environment around you.

Maintaining The Garden:

Maintain your kitchen garden firstly starts with the spacing of plants. Space out your plants to allow them a proper place to grow and flourish. Plants that are placed together have their own humidity and tend to grow poorly.

Another tip to maintain the kitchen garden is pruning. Once the garden is planted and begins to fill in, the most time-consuming tasks are pruning and harvesting, though watering is essential, especially during times of drought To help your produce grow healthy in your kitchen garden, be sure to prune your plants regularly. To simplify what it is: Pruning is the process of clipping dead or dried leaves. The pruning helps the plants in growing, and health improves as well. You can undertake the process of pruning at any time of the year. The more you prone, the more it will flourish. It is best to use pruners, also called clippers, to make clean cuts with swift action.

To minimize maintenance in your kitchen garden, you should think about nature. Most advisors praise intensive planting in kitchen gardens. instead of mono-cropping a raised bed with a mass of just one plant, think about nature and the way these plants would situate themselves. Plant your beds with large plants in the center – usually growing up a trellis – medium plants to the side, and small plants like herbs, greens, and flowers around the outside edge of the beds. This intensive planting creates layers and nearly eliminates the challenge of weeds. It makes water retention so much better, and also prevents pests and diseases as your plants and flowers work together, just as they do in nature.

Why Should Every Home Have A Kitchen Garden?

Our modern industrialized food chain gives us very little control over where our food comes from and what goes into growing it. But by starting a kitchen garden and growing even a small portion of your own food, you’ll not only be cultivating a connection to what you eat, but you’ll also be helping the planet. Not to mention the fact that it just feels good to have a hand in feeding yourself and your family. Plus it’s good exercise!

There aren’t many things in the world that are beautiful and inspiring, productive, and so good for every aspect of your health. When you think about the fact that all of us eat three meals a day, you soon realize that the choices we make with our food add up quickly. I truly believe a kitchen garden revival could change the whole world for the better.

[willow-salix]

Isolation update!

Day 65 of isolation on Tracy Island and there was something weird going on.

“Arghhh, no! Get off you crazy machine!” I swiped at MAX as he rolled silently up behind Scott. “That was just too close for comfort, he almost got you.” Itt was the third time I’d caught him sneaking up behind one of us and I didn't trust him one bit. You want to know why? Because he was brandishing a pair of hair clippers. That was just asking for trouble.

“Stupid bag of bolts,” Scott yelped as he dived out of the way. 

“What is with him lately?” Gordon grumbled, “he tried it with me yesterday while I was sunbathing.”

“And me while I was playing my game,” Alan added.

“Well, you are all looking a little worse for wear now,” I hedged. Who was I kidding, a little worse for wear? No, they were growing hair faster than a teenager in puberty. 

Scott had stolen a hairband from me and was currently sporting a half pony, Virgil was rapidly developing a flock of seagulls fringe as his hair grew heavier and lost its battle with gravity. Alan had resorted to a man bun, it was tiny, but it was there and it was just the cutest thing that I couldn't stop flicking it, much to his annoyance. John was still in his Disney bangs stage, his front curl growing out and flopping forward with the weight of the extra length. And Gordon, well...he was just a mess quite honestly, growing long all over with no discernible shape to it and no way to tame it. 

The problem was none of us had the skills or guts to try to do anything about it. They had all agreed that it was best to just let it grow out and wrestle it into submission rather than risk a cut. You could always take more away but you couldn't put it back on. They would wait until they could get to an actual barber.

“Where is Brains?” I wondered out loud. “Why is he letting MAX roam freely with instruments of destruction?”

“Have any of you guys actually seen Brains lately?” Scott asked.

We all stopped what we were doing at the same instant, like something out of a cartoon, listen, think, realisation, FREEZE. Slowly, one by one, we each shook our heads.

“I’ve not seen him since Wednesday,” Virgil answered.

“Probably Monday for me, but I don’t spend much time in the labs,” I answered slowly, trying to cast my mind back.

“Wednesday too,” John confirmed.

“He has to be somewhere,” Gordon said. 

Food was vanishing from the fridge and the pantry in the middle of the night, bottles of water and juice were growing legs and walking away but we never saw any of it leave. We were used to him never turning up for meals because he was buried in his work, but this was getting ridiculous.

“Don’t you think we should go and look for him?” I asked, just a wee bit concerned.

“Nah, you know how he is when he’s busy, he hates to be disturbed. Remember that time he pitched a fit when Scott walked in and he threw his model on the floor?” Alan reminded us. 

“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Scott nodded. 

“No, come on now you guys, we can’t just ignore this and not bother to check on him, what if somethings wrong? He could be having a really tough time and need his friends and you lot are just gonna sit around on your butts and keep watching Friends?”

They exchanged glances but didn't look convinced.

“He really does hate to be disturbed,” Virgil said. “You’ve never seen him angry.”

 I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Bunch of wimps! Seriously, it’s Brains, how bad can it be?”

They declined to comment.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Don’t say we didn't warn you,” Scott warned me, going back to the game he was playing with Alan on the games console.

“So none of you are coming with me?” 

Nothing, they all avoided looking at me.

I propped my hands on my hips and brought out the raised eyebrow of doom. 

Gordon nudged John, who glanced over at me. I waited. He got up.

                                                               ***

“The door’s locked,” I said, quite unnecessarily really. It was quite plain to see that no amount of pushing or pulling was making it budge.

“Brains?” I knocked on the door. “Are you OK in there?” 

We listened carefully but heard nothing.

“He’s just busy,” John assured me but I wasn't convinced.

“Brains!” I yelled. “Answer us!”

We heard a noise inside but the door didn't open.

“Go away! I don’t wish to be d...disturbed!”

“Does he sound funny to you?” I asked John. He shrugged. Typical man.

“I’m putting my foot down, come out. It’s not good for you to be locked away for days. You need human contact, you need to talk to people. You’ll go mad in there on your own!”

No answer.

“I’m really worried about him.”

“Let’s give him a few hours, if he’s not out by then we’ll try again.”

I nodded, that's about all we could do.

“We’re going away for a bit, but we WILL BE BACK!” I yelled through the door. “So unless you want us breaking in, you had better come out and let us know youre still alive. You got three hours, Brainiac!”

We headed back to the lounge to update everyone on the situation and in my case, to start a timer. I was deadly serious, if he wasn’t  out in three hours I was sending Virgil in to go full out hulk smash on the lab door.

Two hours and forty-eight minutes later and we heard a noise behind us. There was a beep and a whirl as MAX zoomed in, followed by the shuffling of feet.

We all looked up just as Brains popped his head around the door frame.

“A...as you can see, I am q...quite well, there will be no need for f...further threats,” his head withdrew again and he began to make his escape.

“Hey, Brains, don’t run off, come in and sit with us for a bit,” Virgil invited.

“Yeah, Brains, we haven't seen you in days, you can’t spend all your time stuck in your lab you know,” Gordon said, joining in.

“I...I’d rather n...not. I am rather busy.”

I have a highly tuned radar for suspicious activity, and that lad was being the most evasive that i’d ever witnessed.

“What’s going on?” 

“N...nothing!” Brains shifted uncomfortably and that's when we spotted his head.

“Why are you wearing a hat in doors?” Scott asked.

“No reason! I really must get back,” he turned away but MAX, trying to help, got there first. His arm, the one holding the clippers, shot out aimed at his head. Brains tried to duck at the same time as MAX moved, resulting in a midair collision that knocked his hat flying.

We all gasped, stunned at the sight of Brains with a completely bald head.

“Don’t look, I l..l...look awful.”

“What the heck happened, Brains?” Virgil asked, the only one of us that had enough self control to speak without laughing. I admit it, I had my face buried in Gordon’s chest and wasn't able to come out for a good few minutes while he had collapsed over my back, struggling to breathe as he attempted to hold in his laughter.

Max reached out again, his clippers buzzing and it was suddenly all too obvious exactly what had occurred.

“M...MAX’s new programming didn't go quite to p...plan. This was the only way I c...could see to fix it”

And here, in the villa lounge, we see the Brains, king of the understatement,out of his natural habitat and regretting all his life choices. 

[prince-claremont-diaz]

étoiles et fleurs

Summary: Lucas is next in line for the throne, about to be engaged to marry a young noble woman and he hates it. That is, until he runs into the curious florist, Eliott, on a walk through the city. Lucas has little choices in life, but will one of them be Eliott?

Word count: 2.9k 

Warnings: none

ao3 version:

ii.

Lucas sighed, putting his book down on his knees and turning to look out the window and onto the grounds. The massive garden was alive with colour, the lawn a vibrant green, flowers of every kind covering the hedges and trees and bushes. Roses and marigolds and lilies and carnations, perfectly trimmed and watered.

That day, it was a particularly clear afternoon, only a few pale white clouds bobbing along the pale blue June sky. Lucas could see one of the gardeners out with his clippers, trimming the hedges neatly.

Lucas looked along the corridor for any signs of life, tilting his head back against the window frame, tucking his knees in closer on the bay window. He could barely get a second of peace anymore now that he was technically dating Chloé. Although it was hardly dating since it was arranged and he couldn't stand the girl. The more he got to know her, the more he realised she was physically incapable of not talking, always going on and on about complete nonsense. She talked his ear off at dinner about annoying servants, complained in the garden about friends back home, babbled in the library about her new clothes she was sent.

Opening his book once again, Lucas pushed all thoughts about Chloé out of his mind and continued to read his book.

He was almost onto the next chapter, starting to get into the scene, when he heard quick footsteps behind him, followed by someone grabbing his shoulders. Lucas startled, dropping his book onto the floor with a thud and spinning around so fast his neck clicked. When he came face to face with none other than Yann, his startled frown melted into a grin. "You gave me a fucking heart attack, Yann!" he whined, shoving his friend and getting off the window sill.

Yann snorted, shoving his shoulder back. "Don't be such a drama queen—sorry, prince. It's not my fault you're jumpier than a kitten," Yann replied, smirking and jumping out of the way of Lucas' swat. "Oho, that's not very nice, is it? I know I'm just a servant, but surely you don't have to be so cruel!" Yann mocked defense, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

"Can I help you, Yann?" Lucas asked, crossing his own arms.

Yann shrugged casually, plopping onto the windowsill with his back against the window. "Shouldn't I be asking you that, your Royal Highness?" Yann teased. He digressed, straightening up. "But really, no. Mum let me go for a wander and I was bored so I came to exactly where I knew you'd be."

"How'd you know I'd be here? No one else knows about this area," Lucas asked, furrowing his eyebrows together, "No one ever comes here because it's not even near any staff quarters."

"Oh, Lulu, you underestimate me," Yann replied, "Of course I know where you hide from your little girlfriend. You're far too predictable, really." Lucas rolled his eyes. "A distant, mostly deserted corner of the castle which is relatively close to the library and has a good enough view of the gardens? Hmm, I wonder how I figured out you'd be here…"

Lucas leaned against the wall by the window and slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. "Okay, so maybe I am a little predictable," Lucas admitted. He lifted his fallen book and flattened out its pages, closing it properly and setting it down by his side. "But can you blame me for hiding? That girl never stops. I needed a break before dinner later on."

"How on earth would I ever manage to talk to her, Lucas?" Yann deadpanned, staring at Lucas, "I'm just the butler's son and she's a noble who is soon-to-most-likely-be-engaged to the heir to the throne."

Lucas groaned, shut his eyes and hit his head against the wall. "Fuck. Sorry," he muttered, "I don't use my head at all."

Yann poked his nose with his finger. "No, you don't," Yann said, "But it's okay. I forgive you."

They fell into amicable silence, Yann watching the gardener water the plats while Lucas fiddled with the pages of his book, legs outstretched in front of him. If he really strained, Lucas could just about hear the chirping of birds outside the window.

"Do you really think I'm going to have to be engaged to Chloé?" Lucas asked after they had been sitting in silence for almost 20 minutes. He looked over his shoulder, making Yann turn his head from the window down to him.

Yann sighed, placing a comforting hand on one of Lucas' shoulders. "I hate to break it to you, but yes," Yann admitted sadly, "Most likely. She's from a noble family that has pretty much always backed your family and she's been basically living here since late April. And you're of marrying age. I think it's safe to say you'll be engaged at least by the end of summer."

Lucas groaned, falling onto his side on the itchy carpet, burying his face in his hands. "But I don't want to marry her," Lucas whined, distorted by his hands, "She's annoying and talks too much and I'm not even 21 yet. I don't wanna marry anybody yet." Yann climbed off the bay window and settled down beside Lucas, forcing him to sit up. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I really hate being the prince." Lucas rested his head on Yann's shoulder, scowling.

Yann reached up and patted his head. "I know, Lucas," he said, "I'm sorry." Lucas frowned deeper, glancing sideways.

"Sorry? What for?"

"Even though you're a royal and have all these privileges, at least I have more choices in life than you."

♤

Dinner that evening was a disaster. Lucas' father called him out for hiding from Chloé all day because she asked multiple people where he was (including the king!). This turned into his father yelling about duty and chivalry and honour and how Lucas would never be a good enough king. Chloé cried, his mother left the dining hall shaking, his father accidentally broke a plate slamming his hand on it in anger and Lucas stormed out of the dining hall with his hands curled into tight fists.

Lucas burst into the hallway, pacing the floor and breathing heavily, tightening and loosening his fists. The doors to the dining hall swung open again and Manon hurried out, holding up her scarlet dress, hair a mess. Lucas was hunched, leaned against the wall, eyes burning with hot tears as he tried to keep himself from punching the wall out of anger.

"Lucas? Lucas, are you okay?" she asked, striding over to him. She held his fists in both her hands, uncurling his fingers to reveal red rimmed crescents indenting his palms. "He's wrong, Lucas. None of that is true. You'll be a far better king than he ever has been, okay? You have more chivalry and honour in your big toe than he does in his entire body." She wiped the tears from his cheeks, smiling sadly.

"But what if he's not wrong? What if, when I become king, I ruin everything?" Lucas cried, sniffling. "And I'm hardly ready to marry anyone nevermind her."

"Maybe if you tell mother—"

Lucas cut her off and shoved her away. "No! I'm never going to be satisfied with my spouse and you know it," Lucas snapped, "I'll never be happy enough with who I marry and our parents won't ever care." Manon started to reply, but Lucas was already marching out of the hallway, heels clicking on the stone floor.

"Lucas, where are you going?" Manon called after him, hands on her hips and worried frown on her face.

"Out! Anywhere is better than here!" he called over his shoulder, storming down a flight of stairs. He heard Manon's heels following him down the stairs frantically, hair flowing behind her and skirt bunched into her fists. "You're not stopping me, Manon."

"Come on, Lucas. Don't do this. You can't just leave the castle."

Lucas stopped and spun around, fresh tears in his eyes, making Manon blur in his vision. "I'm just going for a walk, okay? I'll be back later." And before Manon could protest further, Lucas spun back around and stormed out the front doors once again.

♤

It was sunset by the time Lucas reached the middle of the city. He was mostly calm now, walking through the winding streets. The evening air was cool against his skin, having neglected wearing a coat, which left him in his simple white button down. All the market stalls were shut for the night as well, only a few shops and restaurants still open. The streets were almost deserted and Lucas only passed a handful of people, thankfully. He was considering turning back, shivering with cold, when he stumbled upon a small florists still open, warm light flooding onto the dim street.

Lucas pulled his sleeves over his hands and stepped inside the shop. He was instantly overwhelmed by the strong floral scent filling the air, along with the pleasant heat coming from a small fireplace in the corner. Lucas glanced around the entire store, brushing his fingers over the soft petals and leaves, occasionally leaning down to smell one.

"Hello," a voice said in his ear. Lucas lept to the side, whipping his head up, eyes wide. He found himself barely an inch away from the same florist from the market stall pess than a month ago.

"Fuck, you scared me!" Lucas exclaimed, clutching his chest.

The man chuckled, eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to!" he replied, still laughing, "I was just coming to see if my customer needed anything. Looks like I found my favourite one."

Lucas flushed, distracting himself by fidgeting with the stem of a gloxinia.

"It's been a while. I was starting to think you were a dream," the man continued, "Or at least that you weren't coming back." The man was standing so close to Lucas he could feel his breath on the side of his face and neck. It sent a chill down his spine.

"Yeah, I've been, uh, busy," Lucas replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "And I live just outside of the city, so it's hard to come here often, I guess."

"What a shame," the man said. "Where's your companion from last time? The magnolia girl."

Lucas snorted at the memory. "She's back home. I came here myself."

The man nodded and clapped his hands together once. "Right. Well, can I do anything for you today?" he asked, stepping away finally to gesture towards the flowers surrounding them. "I'm Eliott, by the way. I don't believe I introduced myself last time. Silly me." He held out his hand in front of Lucas.

Lucas shook his hand, lingering for far too long to be considered normal. "Lu—Louis."

Eliott smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. He's onto me. "Well, Louis, what can I do for you? Another arrangement for a special someone?" Eliott asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. He gestured around the shop again. "I can do loads of different bouquets for all occasions."

Lucas stepped past Eliott further into the shop, looking around the room at the seemingly endless array of flowers filling the room. They were set in baskets and vases and paper bags on the wall, overlapping endlessly in a rainbow of petals and leaves and ribbons. Lucas made his way all the way to the back of the shop where he found a bunch of parchment stuck to the wall, adorned with what looked like pressed azaleas and peonies.

"They're my favourite flowers," Eliott said, appearing by Lucas' side, "They symbolise my soul. Like spirit flowers or something."

Lucas walked ever closer to the wall, lightly touching one of the azalea petals. "So like floriography?" Lucas asked casually, glancing sideways at Eliott. Eliott's smile softened, looking down at Lucas through his lashes.

He nodded. "Yeah. Exactly like that."

"So." Lucas turned his entire body towards Eliott, who mirrored him. "What flowers am I? What's my soul flower?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly, suggestively.

A sharp intake of breath. A grin. A pause. Eliott looked Lucas up and down thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. The silence in the air hung heavy and charged, but no less comfortable. "I don't know. I'll think about it," Eliott said after a moment. "Maybe come back and I'll have one in mind."

"Okay then…" Lucas turned around, circling the store once again. "Will you make me an arrangement at least? Any that you like. Any occasion you can think of," he said, walking backwards, grinning. Eliott followed him, eyes full of mirth.

"Now that I can do." And then Eliott was hurrying around the small shop, knocking down baskets and grabbing flowers here and there seemingly haphazardly. Lucas hopped up onto the cash desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched Eliott hurtling around the room collecting the flowers for the bouquet. It was the most fun Lucas had had in weeks, watching Eliott stumble and scatter around, a man on a mission, barely pausing for breath.

After five minutes, Eliott came over to the table with a bundle of flowers, laying them down and searching through the stack of ribbons. He pulled out a baby blue one and went to work arranging the flower assortment into the way he liked. Lucas watched with interest, giggling when Eliott dropped flowers or struggled over tying the neat bow to perfection. Finally, after making sure the bouquet was satisfactory, Eliott presented the bouquet with a flick of the wrist, holding it up for Lucas to take.

Lucas gasped as he looked over the arrangement. It was made with gloxinias, yellow tulips, white carnations and a few sprigs of heathers, all bunched together perfectly tied with the baby blue ribbon. Love at first sight, loveliness, admiration, Lucas thought to himself. The mixture of flowers smelled divine. Lucas glanced back up at Eliott, cheeks burning, and smiled flirtatiously. Eliott watched Lucas inspecting the floral arrangement, smirking, eyes glinting hopefully. Lucas took another whiff of the bouquet, eyes closing with contentment.

He looked back at Eliott and raised his eyebrows. "This is quite the selection of flowers you chose," Lucas said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well I thought they would suit you, now," Eliott replied simply, "I'm glad you like it." He stepped forwards, closing the majority of the gap between them. He was only a few inches away, warm breath hitting Lucas' face with mint and coffee. Lucas sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he peered up at the taller man with awe and something he thought was attraction. Lucas could have sworn he saw a similar look in Eliott's bright eyes that stared straight into his soul.

"How much is the bouquet?" Lucas asked, taking a step back and clearing his throat.

Eliott blinked, stepping back as well, face falling briefly before returning to a polite smile. Lucas' heart fell with it. "You can have it for free," Eliott said, "Take it as a gift from me."

"Are you sure? I assure you I can afford it—"

Eliott nodded. "I insist. Your sweetheart must get gifts like these often. Perhaps you should get something for a change." Eliott pushed the bouquet closer to Lucas' chest, still forcing a polite smile. Lucas caught Eliott's wrist, staring at him.

"Thank you, Eliott."

Eliott gulped. He glanced at Lucas' grasp on his wrist and back at Lucas, eyes wide. "I'm serious. No one's ever done something like this for me. So, thank you," Lucas repeated, deadly serious. His heart was racing with the intensity in the air between them, eyes burning from staring at Eliott so long.

"Well, I'm glad I can be the one to do it for you," Eliott replied, finally breaking their eye contact, glancing at the bouquet. "You deserve—"

"Eliott? Are you ready to go?"

Lucas ripped his hand off of Eliott's wrist, jumping back and nearly tossing his flowers behind him. Both men turned towards the door to the shop where a young woman was standing looking at them curiously. She glanced at Lucas and he turned away, avoiding her eyes.

Eliott peered at Lucas and back at the woman. He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Lucille. I apologise, but I was just speaking with this customer and, er, got a bit distracted," Eliott replied, moving towards the back of the shop and disappearing behind the desk. Lucas watched the exchange with his heart at his knees, face scarlet.

Lucas took a deep breath, straightening his trousers and pushing past the woman–Lucille and into the street. "Thanks for the flowers, sir," he said over his shoulder, ignoring the woman and looking at Eliott behind her. "The recipient will love them, I'm sure," he added cryptically, smiling politely. Lucas turned fully away and began his trek back down the street, sighing.

"I'll see you again soon, sir." Lucas stopped walking. He turned back around and found Eliott standing outside of the shop, hands in his pockets. Lucille was unlocking the door to the shop, back turned to them. "Please." Lucille finished, turning to face Eliott and Lucas.

Lucas nodded stiffly, gesturing with the flowers. "If you can find my soul flower, I'll certainly be back for more of these arrangements," he replied. Before Eliott even had the chance to react or reply, Lucas was already hurrying away down the street. He looked down at the bouquet once again and couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort caused by the girl interrupting them.

Maybe he would be coming back to the city more often.

[dimensionwriter]

Tangled Within Her Vines

Tangled Within Her Vines

Gender Neutral Reader x F! Forest Spirit. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I'm not dead. School just got out and I'm ready to start writing more frequently. Anyway, here you go

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sun was burning your back as you continued to push the clippers through the hedge. Little leaves fell to the ground, only increasing the pile of work that you will need to do later.

"Hey, sunflower," a women cooed from behind you. You looked across the large field to see a white gazebo sitting near the edge of the land. Inside was a tall asian woman wearing a blue sundress. She had long black hair that reached past her butt; she always braided it or put it in a bun over her head.

"Morning, Miss," you said politely waving your hat at her. A high pitch giggle came from her as she lean from her seat, placing a hand on the table, and waving back at you.

"You look parch. Come over and have some cold lemonade," she cooed using her hand to beckon you over.

Taking a glance at how much work that still needed to be done almost made you say no. But you haven't had a drink since you started working and you're sure it would be quite frightening to see a person laying in her yard due to dehydration.

"I would love to," you said smiling at her. She lowered into the seat and grabbed her fan. It was a pretty pink one that matched perfectly with the blue dress.

It was kind of awkward having to walk a long way to the gazebo, but you just looked down and moved as fast as could. You can still feel her eyes on you.

"I didn't know it was going to be this hot. I would have called you in on another day," she said giving an apologetic smile. You sat down in the white chair infront of her. It felt so delicate that you were scared of breaking it.

"It's fine. I didn't expect the garden to get this out of hand so quickly. The plants grow so fast," you snickered out. An awkward laugh slipped from her as she brought the fan higher across her face.

"Yeah, it's probably the fertilizer I'm using," she muttered quickly. You doubted it was the fertilizer. You have worked with plenty of gardens and they all have their own fertilizer preference. Not a single one of them have resulted in the plants growing this fast.

"I've heard that this land use to be look over by a Goddes of Nature. Maybe she still does," you joke laughing a little. Not hearing her laugh, you slowly stopped yours.

"That seems…odd," she muttered darkly before shaking her head and perking up. "Let me go grab that lemonade."

She quickly got up and ran towards the house behind the two of you. She gripped her blue dress to make sure it didn't slow her down. Her tiny bare feet slammed into the ground as she moved quite quickly.

Leaning back in the chair, you let out a sigh you've been holding. It always feel like you're walking on thin ice when she's around.

You know nothing on her, not even her name. All you know is that one day, a lady you were working for said that her neighbor needed help with her garden. You didn't realize that she had a neighbor, any less that they had a garden.

But walking out the door and looking to the right, you were met with a mansion far in the back being blocked by trees. But what made you do a double take was the giant garden at the front.

The hedges formed a giant mazed that held all sorts of flowers. Through the hedges held rows of plants that seem to splash every space with colour. Even the marble steps were reflecting the colour of the plants.

And that where you met her. She was sitting in that white gazebo with a book in her hand. A white lacy glove covered her had that delicately held a tea set. A small giggle came from her as she flipped the page.

It was at that moment that you realized two things: this place was going to be hard to keep up and this woman is so beautiful that it feels wrong to breath the same air as her.

She didn't even seem surprise to see you walking towards her. She was actually giddly the entire time the two of you talked about forming a contract and all the work that needed to be done.

You expected to have to come over every other month to trim up things or maybe to pick up any fallen leaves. But her plants seem to be determined to grow as fast as possible. So, you had to come in every week and sometimes twice a week. It was sometimes scary to see how fast the plants grew.

The only good thing was that you got to see her. She always sat in the white gazebo and watched you work. Her sweet soft voice always drifted through the air as she kept conversating with you as you worked. There was never a dull moment with her.

Something brushing your ankle caused you to look down. There sat an odd flower. It seem to be a red sunflower that turned more blue the closer it got the edges. Where the flowers cross breeding?

Bending down, you picked the flower to get a closer inspection at it. The colours were absolutely eye catching. It was actually quite beautiful.

If you had been paying a litte more attention, you would have noticed the thorns hidden along the stem. However, the punctures in your fingers alerted you of them.

"Crap," you hissed dropping the flower and grabbing your hand. Small trickles of blood went down your hand and dropped onto your working shorts.

"Bandage. I need a bandage," you slurred trying to think correctly. Everything felt stuffy. The room was spinning, but you couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Shit," someone yelled in the blur causing you to look towards the sound. A lound crashing sound followed behind making you worried.

Looking at the blur, you saw something blue running towards you. The blue thing seem to be wrapped around something white. Wait, now it was green.

The last thought you had was, that's a nice shade of green.

"Shit. Shit. How am I going to explain this? Hey, I know you got poison by this new undiscovered flower, but everything's fine," someone rambled off in the distance. Your body felt heavy and odd.

"I knew I shouldn't have started messing with plant creation. Who leaves a posionous flower near a human?" the voice yelled followed by the sound of something thumping. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

"This was a dumb idea. Sees a cute human next door and instead of just going over and saying hi, I build an entire house with a garden. I'm so out of touch with flirting."

Who was this person talking? They seem to be in distraught. And why were they next to you?

"After this, I'm never calling them over. I'm too dangerous," the voice whimpered out. A long sigh came from the disembodied voice followed by a low whine.

You tried to get this numbing feeling out of your body. The closet thing you got was moving your middle finger and rolling your eyes under your eyelids.

"Some goddess I am."

Your eyes finally open revealing a stoned cieling being lit by some light. You moved your eyes to the left to see the owner of the voice. Thet were huddled up in the corner, but raised their head to the cieling to let out another long sigh.

They appeared to be human in your blurry vision, but a quick blink cleared up the misconception. They had a light green skin with white freckles on their shoulder and face. Two huge antlers sat ontop of their head that sprouted long black hair. Their face structure was quite similar to a human, except everything seem too sharp. Their cheek bone protruded out into a slight triangle shape.

Their eyes open up giving you a better image of them. Instead of two eyes, they had four golden eyes on their face. A slight glowing white crescent shape sat under her thin eyes.

"I should've-" they voice cutout as their eyes met you. The tender look in their eyes fade and was replaced by a widen look of panic.

Even though she looked different, you could still tell it was her. She looked completely different, but you could still feel it was her.

"I can explain," she yelled jumping up. Her arms draped a lot father down her body than they usually would. They seem to reach her calves. "I'm going to a costume party and this was my final product. It's all make up."

She gave an akward smile to you as she twirled the dressed between her long green fingers. You could tell that it was real by none of the suppose makeup wiping off on her dress, the same one from earlier.

"Well," you grumbled feeling an instense dry feeling spreading through your throat. A series of harsh sounding coughs came from you causing you to sit up.

She rushed to your side placing a hand on your back and lightly patting it. Slightly embarrassed and sore, your shook your head and lightly grabbed her hand off your back.

"As I was saying, before coughing up a lung, you look absolutely beautiful," you said giving her a smile. Her entire body seem to freeze as her golden eyes widening.

"R-Really? Um, you think so?" She stuttered out lifting a hand to her cheek. Her green skin slowly turned blue under her hand. Is she-is she blushing?

"Of course," you said. Feeling a little bravery, you quickly added," I always think you look beautiful."

You did it. You successful put out a compliment. But what if she think you are saying that only because you're scared. Even in this form, she looks breathtaking. Wait. What if she's disgusted that a human like you are trying to compliment you? There's too many possibilities.

"You do. Well, I-I think you're beautiful too. Like always, too. And, um," she begin to twirl her thumb while looking down,"I lied. This isn't makeup."

A small smile came to your face. You wanted to laugh at how adorable she was. "I assumed so. I don't think anyone would get dressed for a party while someone is unconscious. Unless they're heartless."

"I'm not heartless!" She yelled jumping towards you a little. She didn't realize you were joking. "I was just lying. I've been told I'm a bad lier."

"Well you fooled me into believing that I somehow missed my employer's neighbor having a giant mansion along with this garden out of a fairytale," you said slightly laughing as you thought about it. You thought you were going insane. No gardener could miss something as amazing as that.

"Yeah that was a dumb idea," she muttered twisting her bare feet in the ground. "I guess you may have a couple of questions. This is an odd situation."

"I've been meaning to ask this since I started working for you. What is your name?" You asked feeling embarrassed. "I understand that you may have given it to me, but I can not recall it."

Her face turned blank as she stood there. Is she mad? A name is something special and you forgot it. What if you are being culturally insensitive? Maybe she didn't give it to you because of some unknown reason.

"I knew I forgot something," she yelled covering her face with her hand. You sat there more confused now. She…forgot?

"I remeber to build an entire house with garden, but I forgot to give you my name," she whined sinking down into the floor. That same light blue colour slowly melted onto her skin. Why is she so cute?

"It's fine. You didn't mean-"

"Azalea. It's Azalea," she muttered interrupting you. She's named after a flower. It's fitting.

"Azalea. A beautiful name for a beautiful…person." Do you still identify her as a person? Well, is that the correct thing to say for her?

"Your name is beautiful too. It rolls of the tongue nicely. And I love saying it because then your face pops into my mind. And your face…is…nice," she slowed down as she seem to realize what she was saying.

"Anyway. My name is Azalea and I'm a forrest spirit," she said doing jazz hands on "forest spirit". Her smile was wonky showing off how awkward she felt.

"Forest spirit?" You asked confused. Well, I guess that should be obvious with the green skin and antlers.

"Well, sometimes I get called a goddess of nature. Even though I'm not a goddess, in the human sense. But I can creature nature at will, but most forest spirits can," she rambled looking anywhere but you. She can create nature. That's so cool, she could easily make the plants grow at any speed.

Wait.

"Where you the one growing those plants so fast?" You asked connecting the dots. She flinched as she dropepd her eyes.

"Well, I wanted to get to know you. And only seeing you monthly wasn't a good way. So I thought maybe if I saw you weekly, I could have a better chance." A long sigh came from her as she looked up at you with a slightly blue face.

"That's actually cute," you mumbled to yourself. You thought you were using these call-ins to get to know her, but she was doing the same thing.

"It's not cute," she squeaked out. Her long black hair draped over half of her face as she begin to pace.

"I'm suppose to use my powers to protect the forest. But here I am acting like some some love struck fool," she grumbled out. Dissapointment slowly rained over her face. Her plump green lips slided out into a pout.

"You're not the only one," you inquired hesistantly. "If it wasn't for this garden's owner being cute, I would have dropped the job. I missed a lot of other job offers just to be here So, I guess we both weren't doing I job right?"

Laughter slowly slipped from her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand, but laughter still came out of her.

That sound. It's so pure and filled with so much joy that it seem to warm your heart from inside out.

Her antlers moved along with her head as her body racked from the laughter.

"We suck at flirting," she laughed out. Hearing her say those words made a giddiness spread through your body. And before you knew it, you were joining her in laughing.

After a few minutes of laughing at the two of you inability to flirt, you both sat there in comfortable silence. Just enjoying the moment.

"I'm tired of pretending," she said happily leaning against a wall. "I like you, like a lot. I have since the moment I first talk to you. And I know it may be weird with me not being human, but I promise you won't notice. I could stay in my human form-"

"I could care less if you were a human or a forrest spirit. I like your for who you are. And I told you, I always think you look cute." You loved the way her cheeks turned blue again as she half distractedly twirled her hair between her fingers.

"So, you won't be weirded out if I stay in this form. It's kind of hard to hide the antlers in my human form," she muttered slightly joking.

"I think the antlers are cute. Stay the way you're naturally are, because it's you," you said truthfully while staring into those beautiful golden eyes. A small smile came to her face at that statement and at that moment you felt like you were on top of the world.

"Thank you," she whispered tucking a side of her hair behind her high pointed ears. "Well, I suppose this is the point where I say that tomorrow I will be baking and serving tea and would like for you to come."

"And this is where I say I would like nothing more," you said smoothly, but your giant smile revealed your true emotion. But you could care less. You have the most beautiful woman smiling at you as if you just given the world.

And you knew right them from this moment on, you will forever be tangled in her vines of love. She will have a hold over you that no other person or creature can obtain. And you're fine with that.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tadaaa. Another momster girl to add to the pile. I wamted to try to write more female monsters, so you may see more of a diverse set of monsters in my cast. Anyway, pelase COMMENT what you thought and if you want to ASK me anything, over a character or just personally, my ask are OPEN. Thank you so much for reading. I look forward to reading you guys comment. It really makes me so happy when I see that someone commented on my stories. It help me learm my audience a lot more. Any way, thank you guys. And hopefully see you with another story soon.

[haledamage]

“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?” for Kai/Rekke? because both their hair lends itself so well to that one ;-D

“You have something in your hair.”

“Your powers of observation are astounding.” Kai glared up at Rekke, but the effect was greatly diminished by the thousands of white down feathers that covered her and the floor around her.

Rekke picked up the bag that had, up until moments ago, been balanced precariously on top of the door to Kai’s quarters on the Defiant. He held the bag over her head; a few more feathers drifted lazily out of it, adding to the number clinging to her hair. She didn’t look amused. He looked amused enough for both of them.

“You look like a very angry chicken.” At her glower, his grin only got wider. “It is adorable.”

Kai said something in Seki that would have gotten Rekke scolded by his mother.

Rekke broke then, and he laughed until he had to lean against the wall to keep himself upright, until his sides hurt and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Kai watched him, arms crossed and scowling, but he saw the twitch in the corner of her mouth that said she was fighting a smile. 

She waited until his laughter died down before saying, “Are you done?”

“You have a feather on your nose.” He pointed to his own face to try and show her where it was.

“I am aware, yes.” She scrunched her nose up trying to shoo the feather away and it made him start laughing again. “Was this your doing?”

“As much as I would like to take credit - and I would love to take credit - I am truly innocent in this.” He held up his hands as if to ward her off. “Your daughter is a gift, Kiki. Clever and very, very sneaky.”

“Vela did this?” Kai brushed her hands over her shoulders, dislodging as many feathers as she could and adding them to the pile on the floor. It came halfway to her knees.

Rekke gave her, then the door, a quick appraising glance. “Ta. She had accomplices, I think. She is too little to reach the top of the door.” He didn’t say it, but she still heard the implied ‘you are too little to reach the top of the door.’

He watched as her expression went from angry to annoyed to a sort of begrudging amusement, and then, delightfully, to conniving. “Are you busy right now, darling?”

“I always have time for you,” he said sincerely.

Kai’s mouth snapped shut, whatever she’d been about to say momentarily forgotten. “I. Um.” She shook herself and looked down as if suddenly fascinated by her fingernails. “I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

“That may be the best thing anyone has said to me since you fished me out of the ocean.” He moved closer, helping brush the last of the feathers off her shoulders. “Tell me.”

She glanced out into the main hold. No one was around, all off on some errand or other, but she kicked the door closed anyway before beckoning him closer to whisper the plan in his ear. She could feel his smile growing wider where his cheek pressed to hers.

Between the two of them, it didn’t take very long to clean up any trace of feathers from the floor. Where had Vela even found them all? They couldn’t all just be from Ishi. She must have been planning this for weeks, maybe months. How had she hidden that many feathers from the whole crew? Or was everybody else in on it?

Once they were done, Kai grabbed her brush, sat at her desk, and began the arduous task of dislodging an entire bird's worth of feathers from her hair while they waited for the others to return.

“Would you like me to help?” Rekke asked from where he sat on her bed, watching, enraptured.

"I know how to brush my own hair, thanks," Kai said tartly.

"That is not what I asked, Kiki." Rekke held out a hand. When she didn’t immediately comply, he added, "I have a sister. I have many years practice annoying pretty girls into agreeing with me. Ked sugawa."

"I have two sisters, darling. I’m immune." He just stared at her, hand extended, unmoving and infinitely patient. She knew if she didn't let him have his way this time, he would hound her until he won - another thing she’d learned from having sisters. She considered dragging it out just to see what he'd do, but decided it wasn't worth the risk. With a groan, she handed over her brush. "Fine."

She only got a glimpse of Rekke’s triumphant grin before he grabbed her chair and slid it, Watcher and all, over in front of him, turning it so her back was to him. She jumped at the first touch of the brush, and he chuckled, sounding much closer than he’d been before. "Do not worry, Kiki. I would never hurt you."

"I know," Kai said, and was surprised that she meant it. "I just don’t normally let people do this, is all."

"Then I will consider myself a very lucky man." There was a timbre to his voice that she didn't recognize. She tried to turn, to catch a glimpse of him to try and get a hint from his expression, but he put his hands on the sides of her face to keep her turned away.

Kai didn’t know what to say in reply, so she didn’t say anything. For a while, the only sound in the room the ticking of the clock on the bookshelf and the quiet hiss of the brush. The last time she’d let anyone brush her hair, it had been her older sister, Arabella, who lacked Rekke’s desire not to hurt her as well as his patience. It had taken Bella less than five minutes before she was threatening to find a pair of hedge clippers; Rekke just worked silently, seemingly unperturbed, first with the brush and then with his fingers, removing dozens, maybe hundreds of tiny white feathers and letting them drop to the floor around them like snow.

Even after the last feathers had fallen, he kept running his fingers through her hair, the curls clinging and catching at his hands like brambles. Kai thought about stopping him, pulling away and maybe trying to pretend this never happened, but… it felt nice. And this was the longest Rekke had been quiet since they’d met. It would be a shame not to enjoy it while it lasted, she reasoned.

It was unconvincing, even in her own mind.

The peace was shattered by a shriek from somewhere deeper in the ship. Rekke’s hands fell away from her and he moved toward the door. Kai caught his wrist before he could get far. He turned back and she put a finger to her lips before he could say anything, a smirk spreading across her face. After a moment, he responded with a playful grin of his own.

A knock sounded on the door, rapid and enthusiastic. Kai dragged Rekke with her to the door and shared one more amused look before schooling her expression and opening the door. She leaned casually against it and looked down at her visitor.

Vela was barely visible under all the feathers. If orlans had feathers instead of fur, they would all look like her, puffed up and agitated like a baby bird.

"Is there something wrong, my darling?" Kai said, with as much gravitas as she could muster.

Rekke laughed, but quickly covered it with a cough. Vela crossed her arms in a way that told Kai she was pouting, though between hair, fur, and feathers her face was completely hidden.

Kai knelt in front of her daughter. "It was a good prank, darling. I expect I’ll be finding feathers around the room for months." She touched Vela’s face. "But don’t play tricks unless you’re ready to be tricked. I have many more years of practice at this than you do."

"Okay, Mama," Vela said. She sounded like she was trying to be contrite, but there was a hint of laughter in her voice. "Can I have a hug?"

"Of course, my darling."

As soon as her arms were around her, Vela shook herself, filling the air with feathers and covering them both with them.

Rekke collapsed into laughter once more, leaning on the bed to keep himself from collapsing to the floor. Through giggles, he said, "I can see the family resemblance now, Kiki. Your daughter is almost as lovely as you."

"No one’s as pretty as my mama," Vela said quickly with the peculiar protectiveness only children have.

"Ta. I agree, little one." He smiled sweetly, amusement very briefly forgotten, his eyes only for Kai. She felt her heart skip a beat.

She pushed that reaction away as well as the panic that followed it and did the first thing she could think of to change the subject. She grabbed an armful of feathers and dumped them over Rekke’s head. Vela tackled him a moment later, arms full of feathers, and Rekke fell to the floor, cackling merrily.

[storytellingape]

neighbours (allan/bernard)

Written for @staticraining, the great enabler. 

Allan is from What If and Bernard from Boy Eats Girl. Bernard is 18 here and Allan is a little younger, around 20-21. 

The day Allan moves next door, Bernard covers his face with a paperback copy of The Hobbit so he doesn’t have to look at him. He slides his headphones on instead and grips the edges of his book a little more firmly, forcing himself to finish a chapter before heading back inside to escape the nascent summer heat.

When Allan comes over to introduce himself two days later, it’s in an outrageously tight shirt that’s disarming as his smile. Bernard realizes then that god must hate him. Therefore, fuck it. Fuck his life.

In no particular order Bernard hates: mushy peas, cold feet, and the smell of cold noodles. But nothing comes close to the wave of self-loathing that hits him when Allan moves into his eyeline to ask whether he could borrow a wrench.

Allan curls his hand into a fist to demonstrate the heft of it (Bernard knows what a wrench looks like, thanks) while Bernard stares and stares and… stares. Allan explains that he needs the wrench for repairs of some kind, leaning into Bernard’s personal space as if they’ve known each other all their lives. He can probably drop in by parachute and insinuate himself into any conversation whatsoever. He’s friendly, practically oozing charm, which is more than what Bernard can say about the old folks that used to live next door who were always complaining about the dog Bernard’s family never had.

And he’s American because — of course he is.

“I’m Allan by the way,” Allan says when he remembers to introduce himself. He flashes Bernard a brief smile, the kind that can thaw snowdrifts and cure epidemics.

“Bernard,” Bernard tells him, managing to keep his voice from shaking. He returns Allan’s gaze mildly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Then he shifts around for a bit in mild panic before shutting the door in his face.

It’s not exactly the best first impression, but how can you blame Bernard when he’s only had one friend in his life and a little rusty on social interaction. People don’t come up to him to talk because he kind of just hangs back in the periphery and melds into the furnishings. People forget about him, overlook him, which is fantastic, really, as he prefers to avoid attention. Put him on the spot and he’ll probably piss himself (he did once, in primary school during a talent show) but he likes school enough where he gets good grades and is in the good graces of most of his teachers because of his stellar attendance record and generally agreeable demeanor. His peers are another story altogether. He never makes any new friends because no one notices he’s there.

So it doesn’t make any sense that when Allan sees him in the supermarket, he waves at him from across the frozen food aisle. And the park. And the bookshop. And from his front yard where he’s helping his dad mow the lawn. Allan, the boy next door, in the tight t-shirts and cargo shorts, with the floppy dark hair and the lightly-stubbled jaw. He’s older than Bernard by about a couple of years, which is just the thing to make Bernard’s delicate heart pound a little harder. His mam says Allan is supposed to be on his second year of uni but that he’s taking a break to care for his ailing grandma and help his dad with the move. It’s all very Christian, though they hardly see them in church on Sundays.

Bernard gets the nervous sweats around Allan largely because he’s unused to the attention and partly because Allan can get a little intense: he leans, he touches, he calls Bernard Bern. He makes these jokes that go way over Bernard’s head but are charming in a plebeian way; American humour is so bizarre and mystifying; somehow it almost always has to involve poop.

And he walks around without a shirt on, never mind the time of day. Once he came over to return Bernard’s dad’s hedge clippers, his chest shiny with patches of sweat. Normally, Bernard wouldn’t have a problem with this if Allan wasn’t so keen on teaching him the finer points of American football and tackling him on the ground.

It all comes to a head one afternoon when Allan pins him on grass after a short-lived match that involved a lot of grunting and yelling and Bernard trying to run back inside the house. Allan is shirtless, naturally, and sweaty, as usual, when he straddles Bernard’s skinny hips and flailing limbs and hovers above him with a triumphant grin, his arms braced on either side of Allan’s head. He smells like freshly cut grass and clean sweat and Bernard can feel him breathing, every ragged inhale going straight to his —

“Hey,” Allan says, blinking, cutting cleanly into whatever thought was about to morph in Bernard’s head. He flicks Bernard gently between the eyebrows with his middle finger and thumb and Bernard scrunches his nose and rubs at his forehead before shooting him a baleful look. “You look cute when you’re all thoughtful. Like a baby chipmunk,” Allan observes. He laughs like this is somehow funny to him, and Bernard can feel that too, the sound of it reverberating in his stomach, his chest, every part of them that’s touching.

When Allan pulls away and rolls off him,  he’s almost disappointed enough to make a sad little noise. Whether Allan hears it or not remains a mystery, because he says nothing as he lies there on his back on the grass next to Bernard, staring up at the sky that’s shifting to dusk above them. Then he tilts his head and glances at Bernard thoughtfully, before leaning up on one elbow and touching Bernard’s hip.

Bernard stops breathing, stops thinking, his body frozen in paralysis. He waits: for something, for anything, and trembles like a leaf when Allan’s hand moves away to tug Bernard’s shirt down where it’s hiked up above his ribs. Then he smooths a hand over Bernard’s stomach, once, twice, and Bernard makes that sound again, that pitiful pathetic noise like when the kid from across the street kicked the tar out of him two summers ago.

Allan smiles and sits up abruptly on his elbows. Bernard wants him to — he wants him to kiss him. He’s so beautiful.  He’s dreamt about him before, the weight and smell of him. His kind laughing eyes. Father Flannagan gave him two Hail Mary’s for it, but Bernard had added another two because this is what he didn’t say: that he’d rolled onto his stomach in bed after that dream and rubbed his cock against the covers, coming in his briefs shortly after imagining Allan watching him from the doorway. He was so weak and trembly after that he cried just a little from how pathetic he felt, and he feels like that now, like he wants to get up and leave, like he wants to  cry, like he wants to pull Allan back flush against his body if only he was brave enough. He’d been so warm, so alive. It was nothing like those dreams.

“You shouldn’t let me bully you,” Allan says, keeping his gaze forward and fixed at nothing in particular. He sounds almost angry. “If I do something — anything that makes you uncomfortable, you need to speak up.”

Bernard has no idea what he means. “You don’t bully me.”

“Well, I obviously make you uncomfortable,” Allan snorts.

Bernard thinks about his next words carefully. “That’s not true at all. You’re kind of cool.”

“Just kind of?” Allan grins. Then his expression morphs and he leans forward to brush his knuckles down Bernard’s cheek. “There was a bit of a — ” he cuts himself, trailing off, leaving Bernard holding his breath. Then Allan kisses him — on the cheek after Bernard jerks in alarm and turns his face away, body stiff with panic. It’s quick, barely anything, and Allan looks ashamed as he climbs to his feet and wipes grass stains off his jeans, looking everywhere but Bernard. “Right,” he coughs awkwardly, hands on his hips. “Sorry about the — shit. I better go.”

He leaves. Bernard’s heart hammers loudly in his throat when he finally decides to breathe again. His head thumps softly against the grass as he touches two his fingers to his cheek.

[tessatechaitea]

Team Titans #20

Is it sexist to point out cameltoe?

It's been about two weeks since I read a Team Titans comic book so I can't remember what was happening, which is probably a good thing. It's nice to see that my brain apparently has some kind of organic Roomba that cleans up after I've soiled my mind with terrible media choices. Revamping my old Patreon page has kept me away from re-reading terrible old comic books. If you enjoy my take on comic books perhaps you'll enjoy my take on The Bible? Or if you don't like reading astoundingly insightful and probably pretty funny commentary on The Bible if it costs you as little as one dollar per month, you can still bookmark the site because you'll get three free song reviews each week too! But if you want me to review a particular song, you'll have to give me money. I don't give my wisdom away for free! I mean, I do! But only in certain circumstances. I think what was happening in this comic book was a right-wing corporate and media conglomerate asshole (much like Rupert Murdoch) was preparing to time travel into the future where he could take the place of Lord Chaos and rule the world. It's the kind of plan only an idiotic super villain in a comic book could come up with. Any real life super villain would think, "I have so much money and power right now in a world I recognize, why should I risk everything by traveling into an unknown future where my biggest enemies await? Better to just buy a private island in the present and look at porn all day." But for some reason, comic book super villains are never satisfied. They never think, "I could retire with the amount of money it's going to cost me to create this death satellite!" The always think, "Man, having lots of money really kills your ambition. Maybe I should use it to endanger my freedom and possibly my life?" Idiots!

Based on these silhouettes, one of Lord Murdoch's henchman is just a gigantic sentient penis.

The Team Titans leader for the future narrates the big battle so maybe we'll soon find out who the mysterious leader really is! I think I've been guessing Terry Long throughout most of this re-read because who else could it be? Unless Terry's kid has one of those comic book experiences that ages him quickly, he probably won't be leading the team as a nine year old. Although I can't think why I'm ruling that out when I easily accepted Nightwing once driving a motorcycle straight up a skyscraper and Starfire falling in love with Wolfman-written Nightwing. A few pages into the battle, a bunch of Team Titans members (not from the titular and most important team!) begin to die. First killed is Gunsmoke. You might not remember Gunsmoke because Gunsmoke was a terrible name and Gunsmoke never did anything except help provide some context on the plot. We learned from Gunsmoke that the Team Titans were spread out all across history because the Team Titans leader created a truly inept time machine. Gunsmoke's last words (aside from "Arrrggghhhhh!") are "Great. Don't tell me y'all saved my butt in the Old West just so I can get it kicked in 1994." I guess in 1994, creating a character that's simply a guy dressed like a cowboy didn't cut the editor's mustard. The second character to die is Monsieur Poniard of Judge and Jury. He should thank his terrible name for cutting his comic book career short. "Mister Dagger," even in French, just isn't going to inspire the kind of terror that a super villain should inspire. And, yes, I'm aware of how many terribly mundane and crappy names exist within the DC Universe! I'm just saying, "One less is a good start." The third Team Titan to die is a nameless Titan in the background of Monsieur Poniard's death. She (or he) has orange hair and wears a purple costume so I think we can all agree why he (or she) had to die. You know, because Starfire already had claims on that terrible color combination. After Lazarium (Lord Murdoch's super villain name) takes down the main Team Titans in one blast, he jokes, "I love the smell of ozone in the morning." I know that's supposed to be a joke because he says, "Heh heh," immediately after. Earlier, Blue (unless it was Green or Purple or Yellow. Remember, the colorist of this current story arc is an idiot) quipped, "Yeah, and monkeys might fly outta my -- OOOOF!" So we have all the evidence we need that Jeff Jensen's main writing crutch is movie and television quotes. The fourth Team Titans to die is Two Gallon Hat.

I often come up with characters for my stories that I know are stupid but I insert them into it anyway simply so that other characters can call them stupid.

While all of the other Titans from throughout history are being slaughtered by Lazarium's henchmen (where did he get henchmen who put such effort into henchmanning?! I bet he pays a living wage, offers great health care choices, and provides a hefty pension), Mirage remains stuck in traffic on the streets below.

If only Mirage could easily do something to keep from being recognized!

I don't know what she did with Deathwing but I hope it involved a hedge clipper and a blender. Mirage steps out of the cab to find Cokie Walters staring at the corpse of Two Gallon Hat. Cokie apologizes for some reason which leads to Mirage threatening Cokie if she doesn't help Mirage save the Titans. Now how the hell is a bubble gum gossip reporter supposed to help with that?! "Mister Lazarium! Mister Lazarium! Is it true you pee through the gate instead of over the fence?!" Realizing that the Titans have met their match, Terra resorts to pleading her case: "Lazarium! No! Please — you can't just kill us like this!" Lazarium, who is a super villain who has really thought out his plan and understands the power of a truly great one-liner, replies smartly: "Oh, yes, I can, Terra — especially you!" I just got goosebumps reading that! Although after the Wayne's World and Apocalypse Now lines from earlier, maybe Jensen stole this retort from a movie too. Wasn't this the great line from the end of Die Hard 2: Dying Ain't My Thing when Bruce Willis sets the airplane fuel alight? Five hundred and thirty Titans got there asses handed to them by Lazarium and his goons. But not to worry because Prester Jon, Redwing, Battalion, Donna Troy, and just-out-of-a-coma Nightrider have arrived to save the day! And don't think they're going to do it silently! Battalion has a new battle cry that I can't believe didn't catch on with the youth of 1994.

How was this not one of the best selling DC posters of 1994?

Battalion goes down in one shot. Most of the characters will probably go down in one shot because Killowat will probably need to prove himself. Will saving the world from Lazarium be enough to make Mirage forget he's a racist jerk? Hopefully not! The first person to nearly put Lazarium down is called Liquid Joe. Being that he's called Liquid Joe, you know he's not going to wind up being the hero. His blast of slime doesn't even faze Lazarium. Time for Cokie and Mirage to save Killowat so Killowat can save the day! Cokie knows where Killowat has been restrained because she's a tabloid journalist. This was the era where we all believed Geraldo was going to discover the secret of the universe. Now we know Geraldo's only goal was to uplift Geraldo. That fucker will say anything for praise and a paycheck. I suppose you can say that about anybody who appears on Fox News though. After losing dozens of Titans, I have to admit that my plan would be to give Lazarium the time travel device so we could be rid of him. If he time travels into the future, he's not our problem anymore! Heck, he probably won't ever be our problem! The future no longer contains Lord Chaos so who knows what he's going to find in 2001. If in 1994 I were told that 2001 would be the beginning of some truly inspiring xenophobic bullshit masquerading as patriotism, I would have been all, "Yeah, I can buy that." Maybe that wasn't a good example. Killowat defeats all of Lazarium's henchmen with one push of a button. Then he goes after Lazarium. Lazarium believes he'll win for the same reason all bad guys (and Deathstork (who is a bad guy but sometimes people begin to think maybe he's a good guy who was never actually convicted of statutory rape so is it really rape? (Yes. The answer is yes. I'm answering on behalf of a large percentage of male Americans who would get the answer to this question wrong))) believe they'll win.

Technically it's not rape if you say, "Here! Take it!" I'm just judging by American legal standards which have an even lower bar than that to declare something isn't rape.

Killowat gives Lazarium a bunch of his power which causes Lazarium to overload and explode into a smoking scorch mark on the roof. But we can't believe Killowat has just killed somebody (even though his name depends on the idea that he kills) so he makes sure to think, "The overload couldn't have killed him. His corporeal form must be around here somewhere." Well, wherever Lazarium went, it's clear that this story is winding down, so he's technically defeated. But he would have been back if this comic book hadn't been cancelled in a few more issues! Oh wait! He's back a few pages later so Nightrider can feast on his blood. Now nobody has to worry about Lazarium anymore and nobody cares if Dagon murdered him because what's a vampire supposed to do? Not eat people?! Anyway, the time machine simply opens a black hole in the sky which consumes hundreds of the poorly named Team Titans. Preser Jon shuts it down and now the Titans have to deal with being part of 1994 forever. I mean, at least until the end of the year when they'll have to deal with being a part of 1995 forever. Or for a year, anyway. The final page of this issue reveals the leader and it's definitely not the leader anybody working on this comic book had planned it to be. Instead, it's Monarch because — guess what, motherfuckers?! — it's Zero Hour time! Team Titans #20 Rating: A-. I'm only giving it a high grade because this issue was the start of Zero Hour. Not that Zero Hour isn't a completely flawed premise that was just another gimmick to allow DC's editors to fix shit that the fangenders kept haranguing them on. But it is interesting that this terrible little Titans off-shoot comic book is where DC decided to begin the entire Zero Hour premise. My other favorite part of this is how we find out that Monarch is the Leader. My supposition is that Zero Hour was thought up long after The Leader was already a mysterious presence in this book. I'm sure the writers and editors of this book had an idea about who The Leader should be. Maybe it was Dick Grayson, or Terry Long, or Starfire, or a reintegrated Danny Chase. But it certainly wasn't Monarch which meant they changed the goal line as the story proceeded. Which is a microcosm of what happens during the Zero Hour event! It was obvious throughout much of Zero Hour that Captain Atom was going to wind up being Monarch. But since so many fans had guessed it and expected it, DC decided that instead of continuing with a plot and character arc that made sense, they would simply reveal that Monarch was Hawk. Sure, it was a surprise! But it didn't make any fucking sense. Fucking comic books!

[auroraknux]

Decided to make yet another “Incorrect Shadow Boom Quotes” post. As always, I don’t remember where most of these quotes originate from (I steal them from various incorrect quotes blogs), and some of them have been tweaked a little.

I just enjoy collecting quotes that fit the characters, I guess. :P (Though, it has given me some of my ideas for how I want to portray the characters in this AU.)

Sonic: You're flirting with me?

Knuckles: Something like that.

Sonic: Finally! Do it some more.

Knuckles: So wait, Rouge kissed you and you said "thank you"?

Shadow: Yes.

Knuckles: Well, that was very polite.

Shadow: I don't hate you anymore.

Sonic: No?

Shadow: No, though I did imagine at least 20 different ways to remove your head from your body.

Sonic: Really? Which one looked the best?

Shadow: Hedge clippers. Really dull ones.

Sonic: No, you wouldn’t want it to go quick, would you?

Rouge: I need your help.

Shadow: Okay, who are we killing? I won’t kill kids, that’s a rule. That rule is negotiable if the kid is a dick, though.

Shadow: (talking about Rouge) That’s my girlfriend, suckers!

Amy: That’s your wife.

Shadow: My wife! Even better!

Rouge: You’re pretty cute when you’re nice.

Shadow: Well, what am I when I’m not nice?

Rouge: Hot as fuck.

Amy: (talking about Sonic and Knuckles) This is the gayest thing I’ve ever seen. Truly, the gayest. I wouldn’t even act like that, and I’m dating a woman.

Shadow: Rouge, can you turn the light on?

Rouge: I don’t need to Shadow, you’re the only light I need in my life.

Shadow: Darling, that’s really sweet but I can’t see.

Sonic: [mentally] Wait, is he into me? Quick, make a bad joke and see if he laughs.

Sonic: [aloud] Did you hear the one about the skeleton who couldn’t go to the party? He had no body to go with!

Knuckles: [laughs] That’s really funny.

Sonic: …

Sonic: [mentally] Well, that’s not a fair test. That joke’s hilarious.

Rouge: Don’t buy flowers for your girlfriend. They don’t want that. Buy them swords! SWORDS ARE WHAT WOMEN WANT.

Rouge: I would greatly prefer a bouquet of twelve katanas over a bouquet of twelve roses any day.

Amy: I'm a lesbiab

Amy: Lesbiam

Amy: Less Bien

Amy: Girls

Sonic: It's okay, take your time.

Amy: [to Sticks] You’re gonna be my woman.

Knuckles: We can make this work! We're Romeo and Juliet!

Sonic: It didn't work for Romeo and Juliet. That play ends in a tragic double suicide.

Knuckles: That's how it ends? Why do people like it so much?

Shadow: We don’t use curse words in this house. *gestures to Tails* There are children present.

Sonic, in the distance: FUCK!

(After Sonic joins the group)

Shadow: Alright, usual formation!

Sonic: What's the usual formation?

Knuckles: Varies.

Sonic: How can the usual formation vary?!

Amy: Is the whole village gay?

Sonic: Not yet.

Knuckles: I was voted Most Confident in my Low Self-Esteem support group!

Sonic: There are no straight men, just men who haven't met me.

Sonic, about Knuckles: There’s a guy over there who looks like he can bench-press 300 lb…and I’d like to be 77 of them.

Amy: Most people that meet me don’t know that I’m gay.

Sonic: Blind and deaf people know you’re gay.

Shadow: Dead people know you’re gay.

Amy: Sticks, did you know I was gay when you met me?

Sticks: Buster knew.

Sonic: Where've you been, dude? I've been trying to find you all day!

Shadow: Oh, what a coincidence, I've been trying to ignore you all day.

Sonic: (to Shadow) I'm here, I'm queer. Get used to it.

Tails: Hey Rouge, I--

Rouge: Shh, I'm listening to music.

Tails: But there's no sound coming out?

Rouge: Listen closely and you'll hear it.

*Shadow laughing in the other room*

Rouge: There it is.

Shadow: I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I'm gonna take a nap, but when I wake up, oh, you are in for it.

Shadow: [four hours later] How dare you?

Sonic [drowsy]: Can I lay on your shoulder?

Knuckles: Sure, whatever.

Sonic [sniffling Knuckles' neck]: You smell like... something nice. Vanilla maybe. It is good. I like it. I could be here all day and never get tired of it.

Knuckles: *blushes furiously*

Rouge: [watching some kids playing] I keep picturing our own kid in there, he'd be the best one.

Shadow: I think you meant "she".

Rouge: He.

Shadow: Either way Rouge, we've been over this. Kids are afraid of us.

Rouge: Yeah but why?

[Two kids run close to them and gasp]

Kid: Are they gonna eat us?

Shadow: Hi kids.

Kids: Ahhh! [both run away]

Shadow: I even smiled this time.

Sonic: I just want to be friends.

Knuckles: Okay!

Sonic: Plus a little extra.

Sonic: Also, I love you.

Amy: You all think I enjoy being a mother hen to you all?!

Everyone: ...

Amy: Okay fine, it's like crack to me.

?: For self-defense training, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar, and you two have to act wisely.

Maria: Okay.

Shadow: Sure.

?: If you want to live, give me all your money.

Maria: Bold of you to assume that I have money.

Shadow: Bold of you to assume that I want to live.

?: ...

Sonic: I'm cold.

Shadow: Like my heart.

Sonic: Now is not the time to debate which one of us is more dead inside.

Tails: I could strangle you.

Knuckles: You aren’t tall enough.

Tails: You’ve sunk low enough for me to reach.

Kidnapper: [on phone] We have your son.

Sonic: I don't have a son.

Kidnapper: [getting frustrated] Then who the heck just asked for chocolate milk with a straw and made us cut the crust off his PB&J?

Sonic: Oh god.

Kidnapper: What?

Sonic: You have my husband.

Rouge: [flirting] You have beautiful eyes.

Shadow: Thanks, I need them to see.

Amy: Tails, how long does it take until you start hallucinating from sleep deprivation?

Tails: I think--

Shadow: Seventy two hours.

Tails: How do you--

Shadow: There’s a clown behind you.

Amy: Knuckles, would you do me the honor of becoming my son-in-law?

Knuckles: Did you just propose to Sonic FOR me?

Amy: Someone had to do it.

Sonic: You have no idea what I'm capable of.

Shadow: Don't take it personally, but I feel like I'm being threatened by a cupcake.

Sonic: *looking in a mirror trying to practice self-love* You're doing great, you stupid bitch.

Amy: My sexuality doesn't define me.

Sticks: Hey, how are you?

Amy: Gay.

[livingcorner]

Creating a Japanese garden – Ramon’s story

In this post, we talk you through the steps involved in creating a Japanese garden. We focus on plants suitable for Japanese Gardens such as Japanese Acers, Azaleas, Bamboo, Cloud Trees, Japanese Camellias and Pine Trees.

We begin with creating a Japanese Garden from scratch and we have been lucky to get some guidance and advice from Ramon Smit who we have been following on Facebook for a while.  He has created a beautiful Japanese inspired garden from a blank canvas.  Obviously it has taken time to produce the final results but his story shows what can be achieved by either planting up an entire garden or using one-off Japanese plants to create structure and / or colour in an already established garden. Here in his own words is Ramon’s story about creating a Japanese Garden:

You're reading: Creating a Japanese garden – Ramon’s story

Ramon’s stunning Japanese Garden, which he created himself from a blank canvas

Almost 10 Years ago we decided to buy a house with a garden. We were living in an apartment on the 11th floor at the time and we started looking for affordable houses with a garden. We found a house in a place called Gouda an old red brick house from the 1920’s (Yes the place famous for its cheese) with a very nice backyard ( 20m x 7m and by Dutch standards, that’s quite large).  Even before we signed the contract I already made a drawing of the garden I had in my mind and was certain it must be a garden in the Japanese Style.  My girlfriend was ok with it so (after I promised to make her a sunbathing spot) first we did some work in the house and then I started breaking the old garden down and started from scratch.

Ramon created his Japanese Garden from a blank canvas

The plants I did not want were dug up and taken by the old owner. (I only kept the boxwood shrubs).  I dug out all of the grass and started to excavate the stream. I did this all by hand. The grass I turned upside down to make small hills and added the excavated soil.  It took some time to finish because the stream was to be 30 meters long and this ends in a small canal behind my garden (lucky me!)

Read more: How to Make a Cricket Pitch in Your Garden

Now it was time to buy some plants. I had done some research in my collection of Japanese garden books so I knew exactly what to buy – maples, azaleas, ferns, pine, hosta, Ginkgo and a 2 meter tall yew Cloud Tree (which I shaped into a garden bonsai) so bought as much as my car could carry and planted them in the garden. Only to find with all the plants in the grounds, the garden was still empty. I had only a small budget so it took a few months of saving before I could buy some more!

Now I needed rocks and stepping stones … a bridge, maybe a small lantern or two?  It took me a few years to collect them but with some help from friends and my boss I bought everything from wholesale. The rocks, all 10,600 kg I got thanks to my boss for half the price a normal person would pay. The bridge and steppingstones I got thanks to my friend who owns a bonsai studio (bonsai is another hobby of mine & it’s thanks to that hobby that I became interested in Japanese gardens).

Now I needed rocks and stepping stones … a bridge, maybe a small lantern or two?

I never really followed a plan, it was all in my head. I built the whole garden around the stream and tried to make it as natural looking as possible – all in the Japanese tradition as far as a non-Japanese person possibly can, that is! With natural scenery in mind and the meandering stream, I was starting to realise my vision after I finally had the rocks to make it look great. I spent 3 weeks positioning the rocks along the stream’s banks and another week to finish the waterfall. I used a rubber butyl liner underneath the stream to hold the water in its place and also underneath the waterfall.

I built the whole Japanese garden around the stream and tried to make it as natural looking as possible

The rocks were delivered to the front of the house. My girlfriend with her mother carried most of the 10,600kg of rocks into the garden by wheelbarrows. Except for the bigger ones which I carried into the garden and laid into the stream’s banks.

Last year I made a whole new terrace made of wood which expands over the stream and built a Japanese gate and fence in the front of the backyard (getting rid of the old conifer hedge).

Here is a list of plants I used for the garden (most of the plants I bought – some of them I dug up out of the gardens of family and friends).

Rhododendrons, Lavendula, Cedrus Atlantica, Ginkgo Biloba , Japanese Azaleas, Acer Palmatum ‘Katsura’, Japanese Acers including Acer Palmatum Atropurpureum, and Acer Palmatum ‘Crimson Queen’, Buxus Sempervirens Globes, Pinus Sylvestris, Pinus Mugho, Abies, Astilbe, Taxus Cloud Tree, Ophiopogon Japonica, Ferns, Moss, Hosta, Juniperus, Equisetum Japonicum & Wisteria.

Most of the plants I prune into ball shapes. I prune the azaleas and boxwood with a hedge clipper after the flowers are gone. You can do that until the end of August (because most azaleas produce new flower buds before winter). You can trim Boxwood maybe 3 times in the growing season followed by a hand of organic fertilizer on the roots.

Read more: Should You Line A Raised Garden Bed? (Read This First) | GreenUpSide

Creating a Japanese Garden from scratch in your own back yard

Trees are shaped into garden bonsai cloud shapes or as the Japanese call it ‘Niwaki’ (I chose to give it a try myself).  Japanese Cloud Trees which can be purchased already shaped are expensive because of the age and many years of work involved.

My inspiration comes entirely from Japanese garden books and pictures of Japanese gardens and natural scenery, like streams and waterfalls I found on the internet. The rest is all my imagination ….I’m just really fascinated by Japanese Gardens and I love the tranquillity and the serene looks they radiate …. hoping I could only come close to the real work of Japanese gardeners.

I have a green background- I studied to be a gardener but never worked as one … so it’s just a hobby.

My Japanese Garden – Last year I made a terrace made of wood which expands over the stream

We at Paramount Plants would like to say thank you to Ramon for his insight into creating a Japanese Garden.  We would say that his garden is definitely very true to the Japanese Garden style and his story is inspirational!  What a fabulous hobby to have…

What is the story of your garden? We always welcome more stories about creating Japanese or other style gardens to inspire our blog readers. More to follow later on Japanese Plants and Gardens so keep reading….

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/creating-a-japanese-garden-ramons-story/

[scatteredenthusiasm-blog]

24-hour Tech Break: Reflections and Realizations from a Screenless Day

For 24-hours this weekend, I joined up with Imaginarium and took a tech break. Starting at 6pm on Friday and going until 6pm on Saturday, I turned my phone off – not “do not disturb” or airplane mode, but just completely off. I closed my computer and iPad as well and zipped them up in my workbag and put them in my closet, out of sight and relatively out of mind. During my time away from screenland, I had a few realizations that I want to share.

Before that, I do want to acknowledge one thing.

I understand that people have actual hardships in life, and that taking a 24-hour tech break is not one of them. And I know a 24-hour tech break sounds like something that would be recognized at the Millennial’s Choice Awards.

“Oh my god, is that the guy that did the 24-hour tech break?” “Wow, I can’t believe it’s him!” “I thought he died at hour 13.” “No, the doctors actually rushed in and were able to resuscitate him after the 24th. That’s why he’s the guest of honor at this year’s MCA’s.”

Anyway, you get the point. But here’s what I learned.

Silence is Golden (for real)

I didn’t realize how much of the day my attention and thoughts were being guided by noise. My typical daily routine consists of nonstop noise. 

When I wake up I put in headphones first thing and listen to a podcast while I make coffee and breakfast, then I take out the headphones to write my morning journal of three pages by hand, then the headphones go back in and I clean up breakfast. Next up I swap out headphones for Spotify to play on my phone while I shower and get ready for the day, then I go headphones again and get my stuff together to head out the door. As I get in my car, I switch from headphones to my car audio, so I’m either listening to music (SiriusXM Fly channel 47, 90′s-00’s hip-hop and r&b, to be precise), or I’m making calls. My workday then consists of either interviewing people, training, staff meetings, or doing in-home sales presentations, which is pretty much me talking 80% of the time, which is just more noise. During a lunch break, or anytime between appointments/meetings, I toss the headphones back in and pick back up on a podcast. Eventually I hop back in the car to head home, so it’s back to music or phone calls. When I get home, the headphones go back in as I cook dinner, and then they come out as I eat dinner while catching up on the previous night’s Late Night with Seth Meyers (and other shows) on my DVR. As that finishes, I’m mindlessly scrolling through social media, just refreshing stuff waiting for the next little dopamine hit that is a new post, story, article, etc. To end the day, I toss the headphones back in while I do dishes, I still have them on as I get ready for bed, and then I pop them out only to fall asleep to Netflix on my iPad that is a foot away from my face, which I then wake up to 30-minutes later to find it still playing, so I close the case and go back to sleep.

Whew. That looks WAY worse typed out. From the moment I get out of bed to when I fall asleep (for the second time), it’s just noise-noise-noise-noise-noise-noise-noise-noise, with zero breaks.

My first realization during the tech break was how vital the silence was. I needed it desperately. The silence revealed to me exactly how much noise I fill my day with.

I like to think of clarity of mind as a mirror that I’m looking into. Every bit of noise throughout the day adds a little fog to it. Podcasts – fog, phone calls – fog, texts – fog, every refresh of social media – fog (and fog and fog and fog and fog). These things aren’t inherently bad on their own, but my relationship (or addiction, really) to them is unhealthy, because I let them fog the mirror all day.

The silence, however, is the only thing that would clear the mirror. Each hour of silence during the tech break was a small wipe across the mirror, until finally the fog was gone, which happened maybe at hour 17. The more fog you put on the mirror, the longer it takes to clear it.

When the mirror finally cleared, I was reminded of who I am and what I want to do with my energies that particular day. My creative juices started to flow, I had three or four short story ideas come up, and I was able to look in the mirror and see what the next right thing to do was. When the mirror is foggy, I don’t have a chance at seeing the next right thing. I’ll get an idea, but then a Facebook notification will completely derail that train of thought. With a clear mirror, I was able to think through a story idea completely uninterrupted, even sketching out a quick outline so I could return to it later.

Silence is vital, and it brings clarity along with it. I don’t mean that you have to treat your tech break like a silent retreat – you can talk to anyone you’d like in person – but when I say silence I really mean just a break in the noise of screenland, whether the screen is making noise or not. The silence recharged my batteries.

Productivity

Without the constant interruptions of noise, I was able to accomplish more tasks in my 24-hour tech break than I had done in the first two months of the year. I always have a running list of things I’d like to get done around my house on a day off, but then stuff comes up and those things get pushed aside, or I’ll start one project and then come back the next weekend and try to finish it, usually leaving it 75% done.

Over the 24-hour tech break, I did laundry (sheets, towels, clothes), reorganized my bedroom, cleaned out my car, deep cleaned my entire house (not just dusting and cleaning the floors, but like the scrubbing the shelves of my fridge kind of deep cleaning), raked leaves, pulled weeds, trimmed all my hedges, bought new succulents for inside, moved everything off my front porch, swept the floor, wiped down the furniture, and then rearranged the layout of the porch, I read 50+ pages of a book, I wrote my three morning journal pages, wrote 50% of this post (by hand, of course), I cooked, and I got rid of (donated) two trash bags full of clothes I haven’t worn since I moved into this house in 2016.

All done in 24-hours, with ~8 of those hours spent sleeping.

I don’t mind a good day or two of cleaning and organizing because I would usually catch up on podcasts or listen to music while I did those things. But without any distractions from noise or screenland, I was able to accomplish each task in about 60% of the time they would normally take because I was solely focused on that particular task.

For example, if I have headphones in while trimming hedges, I’ll come across a song I don’t want to listen to on a playlist, so I’ll get my phone out of my pocket to change songs, but then I’ll see an Instagram notification, and when I open Instagram I’ll see some new stories pop up, then I’ll comment on a friend’s story, which will remind me to text another friend back about something else, and then 10-minutes go by and I’m standing on a ladder with hedge clippers in one hand and my phone in the other, all while my playlist is now 5 songs past the one I wanted to skip in the first place. When finally get back to work on the hedges, another song will come on that I don’t want to listen to, and the cycle starts over.

(Exhale) I told you my relationship to screenland was unhealthy.

Without my phone in my pocket, I was not only able to complete the tasks much quicker, but I was also able to do them better because they had my full attention. Instead of just buying new succulents and putting them in new pots, I cleaned out all of the old pots and mixed in new dirt for the succulents I already had. At the end of the day, I was tired, but it was that good kind of tired, where you’re proud of your work.

I was at my most productive when the mirror wasn’t fogged.

Constant Contact

Last point, so I’ll make it quick.

I was stunned at how many times I would think of something that would make me reach for my phone to text a friend. The smallest thought would pop in my head, and I’d reach for my pocket for a phone that wasn’t even there because my first instinct is, “Oh, I gotta text that person about that.” I do that ALL DAY, which puts me in constant contact with so many different people. The reaction to reach for my phone was Pavlovian like.

The shirt I wore yesterday was one I bought in Encinitas last year when I was visiting my friend Luke, and I thought, “Oh, I need to send him a picture of this shirt.” Later on I was getting my golf clubs out of my car and thought, “Oh, I need to see if my friend Patty wants to walk 9-holes tomorrow because the weather is so nice.” Then I found an old jacket from college that made me think, “Oh, I need to send a picture of this to my friends because it reminds me of this thing we did back in 2009.” This routine happened over and over and over and over.

Again, texting my friends isn’t a bad thing – in fact, it may be a nice pick me up for both of us in the process. But the quick reaction to reach for my phone anytime those thoughts popped in my head scared me. It was like I was desperate to be in constant contact with a bunch of people all day, and that constant contact is going to add more and more fog to the mirror, distracting me from writing, cleaning, reading, or whatever I want to spend my energies on. Plus, each time I open my phone to send one of those texts, I’m more likely to come across something else on that shiny, 5.5” screen that will take me down a different rabbit hole, which will, in the end, make me forget to send the original text.

The break from constant contact was incredibly calming.

If you read one part, let it be this

As the clock approached 6pm, I started to get a little sad. I wasn’t ready for the tech break to be over. I wasn’t ready to return to my old way of doing things. Texts, calls, social media, emails – I knew it would all come flooding back with the press of one button. Or even worse, what if no texts came flooding in? OR, what if only one text came in and it was from the pharmacy saying that my monthly prescription was ready for pickup? That wasn’t the case, but I digress…

I loved my time off of the grid, and quite frankly, I liked no-tech Jeremy a lot better than screenland Jeremy. It reminded me of being a kid, when I could jump from task to task, pursuing whatever interested me at the moment, free of anything buzzing or lighting up in my pocket, and solely focused on what was right in front of me at that exact moment in time. I got out of my own head. The mirror was clear.

A power shift had taken place – one I was dying for and didn’t even know it. For the first time in probably a decade, I owned my phone instead of my phone owning me.

So going forward, I’ll make some adjustments to my routine: I’m going to limit the amount of time headphones are in my ears, I’ll swap out Netflix for a book before I go to sleep (because I know I don’t need to watch all of The Office for the millionth time), I will leave my phone in a different room of my house when I want to get stuff done, and I’ll continue not checking social media before noon, which I’ve been doing for Lent this year.

If you’d like to try a 24-hour tech break, here are my suggestions:

1. Do it over a regular weekend at your house, because it’s easier to analyze your habits when you are in your typical routine. If you do it outside of your routine, then you’ll have other distractions to keep you away from technology in the first place, which won’t reveal your tech instincts enough. It’s best to have as little planned as possible.

2. Get someone else to do it that doesn’t live with you, because it’s a nice little encouragement to know other people out there are doing it as well.

3. Keep a notepad with you and write down your accomplishments every time you complete one. By the end of the day, you’ll be shocked at what all you’ve done.

I know one tech break isn’t a cure all, so I’m planning on doing this once a month for the rest of the year. In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to keep the mirror clear.

[a-kettle-of-vultures]

VC TIPS MASTERLIST

@ The anon

Well, for collecting, I cant really help you in finding dead things, they kinda just find YOU. Although water sources in the woods and along main roads is always a good bet if you want to pick up your own deads. If you’re ok with buying from trappers and hunters there is an array of sites to order from. Heres a useful link for buying furs Alternatively, you can go hunt the things yourself - but that seems to be…an unpopular opinion. Its really just up to you.

Collecting Things you will need with you in the car at all times (if possible)

Trash bags\plastic bags\or even a plastic bin, whatever floats your boat. Be aware that corpses left in plastic bags in anything over 70F or 21c (I think) for more than a couple hours will begin to literally melt. I cannot tell you how long an individual corpse will last in a plastic bag in your car trunk, but if its hot, probably not more than two or three hours before it is ruined. Its gonna be gross, man. Do not be alarmed if the pelt gets damp, you only need to worry if the fur starts coming out in huge clumps when gently tugged on.

Gardening or latex gloves I don’t personally believe in using gloves, because there are very few things you can catch from the dead. BUT there ARE things you can catch - especially from raccoons, so, if you want 100 percent safety, and also maybe to feel less grossed out, bring these.

Knife\scalpel Vulture or not, I think its wise to keep a knife on you at all times   regardless, but you will definitely want one in the car in case you find something pancaked into the road but with bits you want. (IE: the top half might be gone but the tail is good, or the back half is gone but the head is good.). The knife should be sharp….derp.

Hedge clippers In case the knife doesn’t cut it or you find  deer or coyote you cant fit in your car. Pro tip - try to find the joints to make chopping less of a hassle

Air fresheners\febreeze\ anything you want to keep the car fresh Even if you keep it in a bin or bag - the smell WILL linger. I didn’t notice it, but other people sure as shit did - and they didn’t like it.

Theres probably more things Im missing, but this is just my personal list.

Processing

If you want the skin - I recommend watching some skinning videos , not only will it prep you for the gore, but in general they are very helpful.

Key words for vids you WILL need at some point - Fleshing. Fleshing is very important. This will probably take up a lot of your time tbh. It does mine anyway…

Once skinned and fleshed you need to put a generous amount of salt on the skin…like..an entire layer. Make it look like Christmas morning. The salt will get all mushy and eventually hrden as it dries the skin out. Replace the salt daily. When the skin is dry and kinda stiff - and the salt isnt getting mushy anymore. You’re done with salting phase.

Tumblr Skinning links

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/162449711340/want-to-get-into-tanning-but-dont-have-the-time

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/159724525615/what-would-you-suggest-for-materials-for-a-first

Skinning out a coyote foot

Tumblr Taxidermy tips

Prepping a face for taxidermy

Reshaping  face

Mounting a face

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/136429479200/knuxtiger4-new-years-started-off-well-when-it

Tumblr Tanning links

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/162774696970/i-have-a-squirrel-hide-that-was-tanned-using-the

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/155639675180/excuse-me-but-would-you-happen-to-have-any

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/143505520810/hide-tanning-methods-pros-and-cons

Brain tanning

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/137298183735/hello-i-recently-skinned-a-mouse-and-ive-kept

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/136238239250/hey-sorry-for-this-question-but-i-havent-been

Processing for bones

Maceration: When you put the corpse in a plastic bag in the sun - or in a bucket or bin of warm water to melt down for bones. In either case you will want t make sure it is somewhere dogs will not get it. If you use a bucket, make sure to put a lid on top of it. This is the most effective way, but also the most smelly…Like…its bad. Its terrible. Chew some gum or a mint or just dont breathe around it, because its the worst thing ever.

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/162182840065/tips-i-havent-seen-mentioned-maceration-edition

Burial - You can just wrap it in a sheet or whatever and bury it outside, or in a pot. May take a while, but its the least smelly, most discreet and you can care for flowers while the corpse rots down =3 If you want articulate the bones - or put them back together to form a complete skeleton later. Cut the corpse into sections and wrap them individually (again a sheet is best, but certain wire works too)

Open pit - This was my preferred method - Some bones get stolen but, eh. You just dig a hole and pile your body in there on top of a sheet or trash bag. Make sure to secure it by putting wire on top and weighing it down with dirt on the edges, or rocks. You can put leaves over top of this if you want to help the smell.

simmering or boiling - NOT RECOMMENDED. You put the parts in a pan or crock pot of water you will never be using outside of gross stuff ever again.I hear this is easier with a crock pot. Supposedly this is by far the fastest way - but youre very likely to ruin  the bones. You just…set the crock pot to simmer or boil the bones

Dermestids - You can get yourself an aquarium and fill it with corpse eating beetles! They require some basic tips and care sheets, but they dont seem difficult. The most worrisome thing is - that if they escape they may eat your collection…This is the most effective and safe way imo, but it can take time - and also you have to care for beetles.

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/163741647780/do-you-know-of-any-pets-insects-that-live-longer

If you have bones but they're a little dirty (dirt, grease, stains) and you ant them pearly white, you will want to soak them in a tin can, glass jar, or plastic tub with peroxide. Skulls will float, find a way to weigh them down (stuff em with beads, rocks, whatever. Tie a string to a rock then to the skull and let it sink. Arrange ther bones in a teepee or wedge to make them hold the skull down.

DO NOT USE BLEACH. UNLESS YOU WANT BONE DUST, BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT YOU WILL BE GETTING IN THE END. IT MIGHT TAKES WEEKS, IT MIGHT TAKE YEARS, BUT YOU'RE GONNA HAVE A BAD TIME.

If you mess up, its ok, this might help.

I advise cleaning the skull separate from other bones. ANd I recommend cleaning the teeth separate so you risk losing them less.

Dying bones

You can dye bones by boiling various plant leaves and berries with salt. Pokeberries make a deep purple-red, rose petals vary - the red makes a sort of maroon....ect - just experiment.

How to tell if the plant\berry can be boiled of its color - take a petal or part and rub it between your thumb and fore-finger, if it bleeds on you - it can make a dye. (at least in my experience.)

Crystalizing bones

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/155195761070/hey-i-saw-that-you-specialize-in-crystallization

http://a-kettle-of-vultures.tumblr.com/post/155154295705/diy-crystallization-with-borax

Dry preserving

Much like  wet preservation, but you drop the body part \ small animal into formalin or alcohol for a month or two and then take it out and let it mummify. Idk a terrible bunch about this - I just stuck things in a box and forgot abut them for months on end...probably not the best idea...I have some regrets.

Example and some tips:

Uuuuuh, I feel like im missing stuff, but, I did my best. Here have some ref links.

Misc Ref so you can see how traps work in case thats something you worry about

Making rawhide

Reshaping a face

The MBTA in case you live in the US

All birds UNPROTECTED by the MBTA in the US

How to tell if a skull is bleached

How to pack frozen deads to ship to others

Sorry this got kind of lenghty, and linked to a lot of other posts rather than TLDR giving my own takes, but all of these links have been insanely helpful to me at some point or other and they do a great job of walking through the processes imo =3. I hope this helps.

Feel free to IM me if you have a link you want added to this post

[bestillmybeefyheart]

Hi. I should be sleeping but wiht everything that went down the last few days and my broken sleep schedule of 2-3 hours at a pop here I am awake. I will probably crash out soon again but at the moment I figured I'd check the news online, email, and see what bills I need to pay and can w what I have left. Something one should be doing at 5am when he or she is barely awake, paying bills. "I owe $12,000 on this credit card, lets pay it all even though I have $200 in the bank, no one will notice". Lol. I gthink we are done w the storms for a while. I Hope so. That 3x slam of rain and power outages was very trying, pushing me to my limits and beyond. I think today I will try to go shoot at Mayfest and BlueDome Fest if possible... probably will do all BW film... but that all depends on the sleep I get from now till later, my mood, the weather, etc. Right now Im not really functional so its a wanna but most likely wont. I will ride my bike 10 or so miles if he rivertrail is dry enough. And maybe ride the Ducati, worried about crazies roadraging me, but will have my 2 GoPros running front/back this time. I have mounts on the Harley for both that youdont even see but get great views. The Ducati has nowhere to mount for back without sticking a camera directly somewhere to the bike. Maybe a sticky mount under the back of the seat to the wheel well... and then front on the helmet. GOing to hit Best Buy and Target for mount pieces to try and assemble a stable mounting platform for it and try it. I also should check the rain accumulation to see if its gone down. At least everything in the yard will be nice and green. Heck I need to borrow the folks battery hedge clippers and do the entire fence line, and go around every tree with the main snipers and cut all the trees that have come up around the big trees. But there are a lot and I'd have a new giant pile to get ride of if I did. Maybe haul the trash bucket and cut them into smaller bits and put in there. I dunno. It's 5am, I shouldn't even be thinking of this crap. I should be asleep. But i figure I will be shortly. I always crash back out when I am up too early. I'll zoink outfor 2-3 more hours if Im lucky then go about my day. Weeeee.

[panicromantic]

Living with a parent with a mental illness - [this is a bit long but please read]

Mental illness and me are often way to familiar, at the tender age of 10 I was diagnosed with major depression and anxiety disorder. By the age of 12 I harmed myself and attempted suicide twice. Now I am 20 years old and I still struggle but it’s good to say I’m so far from where I used to be. What I’m trying to say is I know mental illness evey horrific, draining, nauseating, painful part. So I’ve always been stuck at a crossroad, my mother.

My mother had her issues growing up. She grew up in a strict catholic household with parents who fought every night and was abused by her father. So looking back on all she’s done to me I can understand why she may act a certain way or do the things that she does. She also deals with major depression and anxiety also she may have bipolar depression, this one not officially diagnosed but all the therapists I have had when explaining my mother had cake to this conclusion but of course could never diagnose her fully without having her as a patient.

Now you know a little of me and a little of her so let’s go back to 2009..

Everything was looking up my parents just bought a house on the good side of town..but of course like all great things in my life there is so much more to it. She just found out my dad had been cheating on my mother. Despite this she stayed, she stayed for a few reasons. She was judged so much for this but I can understand why she made the choice to stay. She just bought a house with him, she’s been with him since she was 13 years old and she has four children with him. I’m not saying that you should stay because of those reasons I’m saying I can understand. They hid this from us at that time I never saw my parents fight. Bicker of course but very rarely seen them fight. So because of this we lived a few years of “happiness” but it was a ticking time bomb waiting to a obliterate everything in its path.

Moving forward to around 2012 is when the bomb cam to avenge its so desperate destruction. A woman showed up on our door step. Little did I know this woman was ... for privacy sake let’s call her ‘sarah.’ Who’s Sarah? Sarah was the women that my dad cheated with. My mom opened the door and that’s when everything changed. They later separated, not legally because they can’t afford it and are stuck living in the same house because there’s not enough money in it to sell it That’s when I found out what my dad did and that turned into the fighting every night. My mother burning my father with cigarettes, pushing him down the stairs, cutting him with hedge clippers and so much more them both coming into my room and my mom screaming at me to choose who I love more and my dad trying to protect me.

My mom forbidding me to ever meet her and coming in my room every night and me being forced to be her therapist. That enough is hard but I was also dealing with my own issues. School, sexuality growing up, my own mental illness. She would scream at me, why doesn’t he love me and why am I not good enough. She would hit herself in the head over and over until I forced her to stop. One day when he left to me with Sarah she came into a room with a knife and forced me to watch her slit her wrist over and over and scream at me “look what he made me do” and when I left she called me over and over saying how sorry she was and how much she loves me and I forgave her well no I don’t think I ever have but I did whatever to make her happy, to not send her over the edge.

Talking to my mother is the equivalent of walking on eggshells, in the span of five minutes she’s could’ve laughed screamed and cried. You never knew who you were dealing with. Your breath hitches every time she walks in a room. Every time she starts a conversation you never know where it’s headed

I saw my mom who I loved and always forgave, always looked over the constant mental torture and slowly began to hate her.

So that’s where I’m at, I’m still at a crossroad.

The cross road of understanding that she’s been through a lot but then also hating her for what she’s done.

Countless of us have asked her to get help she refuses. She’s on meds and has gone to therapists but whenever a therapist doesn’t sugar coat and tell her what she wants to hear she quits.

There have been many many episodes of terrible things that I haven’t mentioned that brought me where I am.

To everyone she’s a great mom who is normal as ever never knowing who she truly is.

I don’t know really the point of this, mainly to get it off my chest and another to see if I’m wrong for hating her. I don’t want to but my mother can’t be reasoned with whenever I bring up what she did so I can move on she spins it on me to make me feel like shit like I’m throwing it in her face and now she’s the victim again.

This is just a ramble and doesn’t make much sense but I hope to have some different opinions on it.