#I could grow flowers in spring and change colors in autumn :)

[spoontyphoon731]

I got Flareon but accidentally clicked Jolteon 😭

new eeveelution quiz! Take it and tell me who you got :3

[pit-and-the-pen]

(Nothing But) Flowers

a smutty Eris fic for @tsunami-of-tears's birthday! Happy Birthday! Here's some Eris sex pollen to hopefully add to a wonderful day <3

Eris x reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Sex Pollen, fingering, p in v sex, praise, Porn without plot.

Wc: 4k

Autumn was still so beautiful to you. Despite being mated to the high lord, you were still in awe of every sight you sunk in. Spring was so different from autumn. With its trees and their myriad of colors, the way the animals scurried around silent safe for some crackling leaves under their feet. And all the new plants you got to explore. Being from spring you had grown up around the soft petaled blooms but here it was so different. Deadly mushrooms and ferns as large as houses. There was always something new for you to find. 

Which is how you ended up far off the path in the forest. Following a trail of almost glowing dust that led to a large clearing full of bright purple blooms. The smell was enticing on its own but the flowers were just so pretty, reminding you of violets. Your hand reached out to touch one of the petals and it seemed to open further to you, almost begging for you to run a finger along the petals. They were soft under your hand. Velvety almost. The pollen at the center of the bloom stuck t o your fingers. The fluff was almost as stick as tree sap and you couldn’t get it off of your fingers as you tried to brush it off on your skirt. You just stared at it, wondering why it wouldn’t leave your skin, but a tree branch snapping in the distance made you realize how dark the sky had gotten. Not wanting to figure out exactly what happened in the forest after dark, you started the trek back to the forest  house.

Despite the air temperature lowering with the sun, you felt your skin starting to heat up. You placed a gentle hand to your forehead, trying to gauge for any fever. It felt normal enough to you, nothing that would explain the way your whole body was starting to flush. It must be all the walking. You thought and just continued on your way. 

By the time you reached the house, you had shed your riding cloak and the first layer of your dress. Skin flushed, you could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck and the contrasting coolness had you squirming. 

Eris was sitting in the armchair by the fire, feet perched up and a book in his lap. His reading glasses were halfway down the bridge of his nose. Your mate turned to look at you when you entered and you saw his eyes widen. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You look like you’re burning up.” He put his book down and started walking over to you. His scent hit you full force then. Cinnamon, tart apples and a musk that was exclusively Eris. It was enough to send another wave of heat over your skin and draw a long whine from your mouth. The concern only grew in his face as he misunderstood the noise. Thinking it was due to whatever sickness was coursing through your veins and not the growing desire to jump him right then and there. 

He closed the distance between the two of you and reached a hand out to copy your earlier movements, checking for a fever. He jumped at the contact. “Sweetheart, you’re burning up. Why would you go out if you were feeling this bad?” You could only focus on the lingering feeling of his hand on your forehead, the way you leaned in closer to him at the contact. You willed your brain to listen to the words he said, his face letting you know he needed an answer. 

“I wasn’t feeling this bad when I left.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, like your tongue had been changed to iron in minutes. You fought through it as best as you could. “I was walking back to the house and I started feeling like this.”

He didn’t hesitate before he asked, “What did you do while you were there?”

It took you a while to remember. To think back on what you had done all day. 

“I was walking down the path. Just looking around at all the animals, and plants. Then I saw a few flowers that I haven't seen before and went to go look at them. They were so pretty. But they had a…” You searched for the word. “Like a sap almost.” You held out your hand to show him the lingering pollen and found that there was no sign of it, not even a residue. You stared at your hand in disbelief. You haven't washed away the sticky substance, your hands weren’;t sweaty enough on their own. Eris noticed you looking at your fingers and gently cupped your hand in his. You squirmed under the touch. You felt another wave of arousal shot through you and his eyes snapped to yours, nostrils flaring.

“Did the flowers happen to be purple, love?” He asked, voice suddenly low. You nodded and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Is that bad?” You asked, scared of his reaction. 

He must have sensed your unease and he calmed the nervous expression on his face. 

“Not bad. Necessarily. We should probably get you in the bath.” He said quickly, changing the topic. 

“Eris, what are those flowers?”

He sighed heavily. “They’re flowers that we grow specifically for Calanimia. You have the stag in spring, and we have a tea that we make from the leaves of those particular flowers. And they…well..they.” His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck as he seemingly searched for the words. It dawned on you then. A tea for Calamia.Your face flushed even more as you took in his words.

“Oh.” Was all you could think to say.

“Like I said, we should get you into a bath. Try to cool you down.” He started leading you to the bathing room attached to your bedroom but his hand on the small of your back pulled a loud moan from your mouth. The heat on your skin is almost searing under the weight of his hand. You arched into the touch as you felt your wetness start to coat your inner thigh. Eris swore under his breath, fingers clutching at the fabric of your dress, trying to steady himself. You turned around to face him and were met with his blown out pupils. His jaw was set tight, teeth picking at the skin of his lip as he stared back at you. All the heat evaporated from your body at that look, pooling into your stomach and breasts. Both started to ache in a delicious way that had you surging forward to capture your mates lips on yours. 

He held you gently, lightly returning the kiss. A groan of frustration left you as you tried to deepen the kiss but he just pulled you away from him.

“Sweetheart.”

“Please Eris. I feel like I’m on fire right now. It’s…Gods it’s like the fucking mating frenzy all over again.” You pleaded and you were telling the truth. Eris and you were unable to keep your hands off of each other for nearly a month when you accepted the bond. It got to the point where you had to send servants away because of the amount of times that they had caught you in various areas of the house. Even then, when you borough them back, you noticed the lack of male servants in the forest house. This burning was so similar, but somehow worse. Fat tears started forming in your eyes at the thought of him not touching you. Even now you were wondering why he wasn’t already inside of you. You could smell his arousal and a quick glance down at the front of his pants showed that he was already mouth wateringly hard. 

“I know. But let’s get you into some cold water and see how you feel after that.” You perked up at the idea. You would have to be undressed to take a bath. And you knew your husband. He was never one to say no for taking you in the tub. So you let him lead you up to your bedroom, knees slightly wobbly like a baby deer. 

He kept the touching to a minimum. Not wanting to rile you up any further, plus his hands were buddy trying to keep yours off of him. 

By the time you two both got to the bathing room, he practically had to pin your arms to your side to keep you from unbuttoning more of his shirt. A heavy pout graced your soft features and he only pulled your lips together before he started to slowly unlace your dress. 

You leaned into his chest as he undid the strings of your corset. Nothing like you normally wore, just a casual walking corset and a single layer of dresses thanks to you discarding part of your outfit earlier. But when his knuckle dragged across the bare skin of your back as he pushed the corset down, you shuddered violently against his touch. His arm snaked around your waist to keep you from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. 

He placed you on the bathroom counter before going to fill the tub. You felt your brain fogging even more as you watched Eris’ back muscles contract. The sight was enough to make you drool. You couldn’t help the thought of how his muscles would flex as he was pounding into you. Eris stiffened as soon as the image popped into your head. Your intoxicated state must have opened up the bond wide and clear for him because you were able to smell his arousal in the room. It almost floated towards you, wrapping around your whole body and making you want to drown in it. 

“Eris.” You whined. You saw the small shake of his head before he turned to face you. 

“Sweetheart.” He took one look at you, the way your skin was flushed, your pupils too-wide pupils, and he moved towards you. He took two long steps before he froze. “Gods. You look good enough to eat but I….” He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, sending a calming caress down the bond. 

Eris picked you up and pried off your arms as he deposited you in the bath. A hiss rushed past your teeth at the cold temperature. He sighed a little and placed his hand in the water, warming it ever so slightly that the goosebumps on your arms went away. 

“Can you come in too?” You asked him, the water clearing your mind a little. Washing away some of the raging heat but leaving you craving your mate none the less. 

“If I do, you have to keep your hands to yourself? Do you think you can do that for me?” He was speaking slowly, giving you time to process his words. You frowned slightly at the idea but nodded anyways, desperate to feel your mate in any way. He placed a small kiss on your forehead and rose to his feet to start taking off his own clothes. 

You didn’t take your eyes away for a second, afraid to even blink and miss the sight in front of you. Inch by inch all of his wonderful body was exposed to you. His pants were last, pulled off his feet with his boxers in a swift movement. Your eyes zeroed in on his hard cock. The tip bright red. He followed your eye line and somehow managed to get you to look in his eyes. 

“Remember what I said?” He asked simply, voice still soft. 

“No touching.” You responded and that seemed confirmation enough for him to climb in behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. It took every bit of self control you had to keep your arms pinned to your side. The rational part of your brain reminding you that he was doing this for your safety. For your comfort. 

So you leaned into his touch, savoring the bit of himself he was giving you. Your head was resting on the middle of his chest. Just content to sit in the water with him. But as soon as you got comfortable, another wave of desire pulsed through you. Somehow stronger than before. The feeling made your skin tight, almost itchy and it was painful. You let out a quiet whine, trying to hold back the sound from reaching your mates ears. It obviously didn't work. He would have been able to hear the discomfort if he was in the other room, plus you knew he could feel it being sent down the bond. His arms started to trail lightly up and down your side, resting on your shoulders where he lightly tried to knead out some of the tension resting on them.

The calming action seemed to have the exact opposite effect. HIs hands might as well have been between your legs with the searing pleasure it brought you. A deep moan left your lips that had Eris stiffening again behind you. You felt his touch start to recede and reached a hand up to keep him there. But you remembered the condition he gave you. 

“Please, don’t stop.” You whined out pathetically. Much to your delight, his hands didn’t leave your shoulders. But they stayed still, not wanting to cause another reaction. 

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, the pressure between your legs slowly building hotter and hotter. 

Eris dragged his lips lightly over the junction between your neck and shoulders. You shuddered against him. When he spoke, his lips were right against your ear. 

“Can I try something, my love?” You could have cried at his words, relief rushing through you and causing you to relax further into him. 

“Yes, nother above, Eris please.”

“I know it hurts but I want to see if I can help just a little.” At his words, you felt his fingers gently wrap around your front. Hands slightly warm as he reached for your breasts. Grabbing one of your taunt nipples in between the long digits and putting the perfect amount of pressure on it. When you cried out, he repeated the motion on the other side. Letting you squirm against him, soaking up the pleasure he was giving you. 

ONe of his hands started to glide down your stomach, searing a trail down between your legs. You screamed his name as his finger made contact with your swollen clit. Hips already bucking into his hand. He wrapped his legs over yours, pinning you in place. 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me do the work.” He said before he resumed his earlier kisses along your neck as he started to slowly circle his finger on your clit. Your head was thrown back, eyes already squeezed tight as you clutched the edge of the tub, knuckles white as you tried to fight the urge to grip his arms. His hand that was still kneading your breast came and gently moved your hand to his thigh. Instantly you clawed your hand around it, grateful for the grounding presence. 

You could already feel your peak nearing, your moans and cries reaching a higher pitch. Garbled version of Eris’ name leaving your lips signaled just how close you were. He sped his fingers up, drawing tighter, faster circles that had you seeing stars. You back arched off of his chest as you felt yourself about to fall over the edge. His teeth lightly nipping at your neck was all you needed to fall apart. Your body jerked at the force of your orgasm, hips twisting as much as you were allowed to. You could still feel your walls clenching around nothing as Eris swiftly drove two fingers inside your aching hole. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, back still arched, head facing the ceiling. Your nails bit into Eris’ thigh, harder than you meant to but as he sunk his fingers in and out of you, you couldn’t find a way to realize your hand. All your brain seemed to be able to do was focus on his thick fingers inside of you, the cold metal of his wedding ring hitting the inside of your thigh. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so good for me.” you whined at his words, unable to respond. 

“I know it hurts but you’re being so good. Just cum for me.” And his words were enough to push you over the edge again. Already so worked up from your first orgasm. His fingers didn’t stop though as you screamed his name. It was hard to tell where one orgasm started and the other one stopped after that. His fingers refused to stop until you were scratching at his wrist, pleading for him to at the very least slow down. He milked one last orgasm from you, fingers brushing against the soft spot deep inside of you and pulled his fingers out from your aching center slowly. You turned around in the tub, facing him before you rested your head against his chest. You heartbeat was frantic at this point but nothing compared to his. 

When you looked at Eris, his face was flushed matching your own. His lip looked like he had spent a good amount of time between his teeth. You placed a small kiss to the small indents on his bottom lip. 

You just rested against his chest, Eris using his powers to keep the bath warm while you came back down to earth. Once you couldn’t hear your heartbeat in your ears anymore, he helped you climb out of the bath. Thinking clearly for the first time in what felt like hours, you blushed. 

“Thank you.” You said to your mate while he helped you dry off, avoiding your breast and between your legs. He slipped one of his shirts over your head, letting it fall past your thighs.The fire was still there but was tamed down to a dull roar. Nothing like the all consuming feeling from earlier. Eris had a self-satisfied grin on his face when he captured your cheek in his hand, pulling you to him as he layed back on the bed. You could feel how hard he still was, even through his sleep pants. 

“Eris…”

“I’ll be fine.” He said in a sleepy voice. He sounded more worn out than you did at the moment. 

“But I don’t want to sleep…” You trailed off as you started running your hand down his bare chest. He groaned when you ran a single finger along the line where his pants sat, hips slightly bucking towards your hand. You looked up at him, his eyes closed, hair still damp from the bath and felt desire sink back into your bones. You paused for a second as your hand dipped into his waistband. He nodded his head, eyes now looking down at you. That was all it took for you to pull his pants down just enough for his cock to spring against his stomach. Your mouth watered at the pretty pink flush it had and as much as you wanted to take him into your mouth the ache between your legs was too much to ignore now. So you quickly slung your leg over his hips and grabbed his throbbing cock in your hand. He let out a string of curses as you ran his tip through your drenched folds, once, twice and then began to sink down onto him. your hands shot out to his chest, catching yourself before you could slump against his chest. His hands were instantly on your hips, clutching at the flesh. Fingers digging in so tightly his nails were leaving behind pretty half moon indents. His throat was tight by the time you sank all the way down. Letting yourself just absorb the pleasure that was the feeling of his cock inside of you. You rocked back slightly and threw you head back at the way his tip pushed against your cervix. This was a million times better than his fingers and once you had adjusted to the feeling you were rocking back and forth on his lap. Hands helping you push off of his hips. He did his best to keep still, the strain in his face proof of that. He wanted to let you chase your high, let you get this damned pollen out of your system. But you weren’t having any of it. 

“Gods, Eris. You feel so good. Filling me up so perfectly.” You started to babble. Letting the words come out in a breathy whine. His hips bucked up as you spoke. Breaking some of the words with high pitched moans. Your nails were leaving angry red lines on his chest and the slight pain only seemed to nudge him even more. You could see the struggle in his eyes as you looked down at him. His lip was slightly bleeding because of how hard his teeth were sinking into it. You lifted a hand off of his chest and pulled his lip from his teeth. You leaned down and gave him a deep kiss. Tongue sweeping across his bottom lip to sooth the angry flesh. The hands on your hip grew slightly warmer as you started to speed your hips up. Rocking back and forth to a tempo you both loved. Your breasts were pushed against his chest from the angle of the kiss, rubbing your nipples against the smattering of hair on his chest. He whined into the kiss as you raised your hips up slowly before slamming them back down. 

“Good boy.” You teasingly muttered against his lips and that was all it took for him to lose that last little bit of control. He grabbed one of your shoulders and pulled his feet flat on the bed. The new angle forces you to sit up. He pulled the prettiest of moans from your lips. Soft cries and hiccups. You felt like he had filled your veins with electricity as he thrusted into you harder. He was grunting from the heavenly pace of his thrusts. You could only let your head fall back as you started racing towards your orgasm. 

‘Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart, come all over my cock?” He said in a mocking tone. He already knew the answer, you could feel your walls fluttering tighter against him. “Go ahead my flame.” His command had you writhing against his lap, legs shaking and it was only his hand on your shoulder guiding you that kept your hips moving. Your whole body felt so exhausted suddenly. But you focused on letting him chase his high. He kept pounding into you. Filthy grunts and moans leaving his open mouth as you felt yourself coming back down to earth after your orgasm. He gave you a few harsh, long strokes and you felt his thighs tense as he came deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum against your walls acted like a balm to the heat against your skin. Satisfying whatever senses the pollen had overtaken. You collapsed against his chest. Both of you sucking down lungfuls of air. You stayed on his chest, only moving enough to lift yourself off his softened length. You giggled a little as you felt his cum pool out of you. The both of you sat there, letting your heartbeats slow down until they're almost in sync. 

“Are you feeling any better?” He said into the crown of your head, his hand tracing feather light touches up and down your back. You just sighed happily and nuzzled further into his chest. 

“I do think we’ll have to take another bath…” You propped yourself up on your elbows, a wide smile on your face. You gave him a dramatic wink. Eris grabbed your arms and rolled you over onto your back. 

“Then let's make sure you’re properly dirty then, shall we my love?” His words made you pull him by his hair to your lips. Whatever it was seemed to be out of your system but seemed to be just getting started for your mate. 

[lovemyromance]

Stop Kicking Elain out of the NC

She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to leave her family. The cauldron turning her into high fae was unfortunate, but in typical Elain fashion (my favorite quality of hers) she made the best of a terrible situation and adapted to her new home, her new body, her new life. She has friends. She glows with health. She is mending the relationship with her sisters. The male she loves is there.

Why would she want to leave?

And if anyone brings up the fact that Cassian said she couldn't pull off a black dress - I swear to god I'll be convinced you've never read a book before. Cassian, the Miranda Priestley of Velaris, declaring Elain doesn't look good in black does not mean she is being rejected by the Night Court.

Do people not read? Did you not read how Nesta had to stand out to be Eris-bait, and if Elain, gorgeous, sweet, with beauty-that-could-bring-a-king-to-his-knees Elain was done up like the rest of them, the chances of Eris following after Nesta would have been slim? They had to make her look muted, to purposefully fade her into the background. That is ALL.

Now let's get into the even worse arguments for booting Elain out of the NC. Specifically,

She belongs in Spring (with Lucien)

She belongs in Day (with Lucien)

She belongs in Autumn (with Lucien)

Do you see what all those have in common (other than being surface level awful arguments)? They all center around Lucien. Who currently, Elain avoids like the plague. But I'm getting ahead of myself, lets go one by one, slow and steady:

Elain does NOT belong in spring

Why is this a thing, even? Because she likes flowers and Feyre said "oh elain would like it here?" That's it? Are we reducing people down to their hobbies now? Nesta likes books, should she also move to Day? Mor likes...wine I guess, should she move into a tavern? Amren likes puzzles, ship her to Dawn? Azriel likes Elain, let's put him in the Prison??

Or, oh wait, Tamlin should lose his court and Elain and Lucien will rule? How. Genuinely, how? Lucien is already an heir to Day Court & Autumn Court. How would the magic pick him of all people if Tamlin somehow dies/gives up his court? Wouldn't it pick someone...of Spring Court descent?

P.S Flowers also grow in the Night Court.

Make it make sense.

2. Elain does NOT belong in Day

First of all, right now, nobody knows about Lucien's parentage except for Feyre/Rhys and LoA (maybe). Helion doesn't know. Lucien himself does not know.

For Lucien to become high lord of Day, y'all realize Helion would have to die, right? Why would you ever kill off such an icon? And even if he just casually lives there while Helion still rules...a lot of things would have to happen for this to occur, like: Lucien's parentage is revealed, Helion accepts him as his heir, likely a blood duel between Beron/Helion over LoA, If Beron wins THEN Lucien becomes HL of Day, but if Helion wins then Eris becomes HL of Autumn...all of this would have to be covered in one book before they can even think about moving to Day and living happily ever after. You know, if Elain ever actually gives him the time of...day.

Don't even give me the "but Elain needs sunlight"!!

P.S. The NC also gets sunlight

Elain is not a plant. She does not undergo photosynthesis and need to go to the Day Court to physically be alive. Elain does not need light she IS the light. What's not clicking folks? Her name literally means LIGHT. Some variations say fawn/deer, but mainly she is light.

3. Elain does NOT belong in Autumn

This argument is more rare, but I don't understand it either. Why would she go live in Autumn as the reluctant mate to the 7th son of the awful Autumn HL? Autumn court cannot be this interesting to y'all, that you would be totally okay with not hearing from feyre/rhys/nesta/cassian/any of the IC, just to read a story about Elain avoiding Lucien in different climate/setting? Autumn exists in the NC too, you guys. She can ignore him when the leaves change color there, just as much.

And all of this, is only centered around Lucien. Because if you just asked this sweet flower child what she wanted, I can guarantee you, her answer would be to stay right where she is: home.

If she weren't mated to Lucien, would you still be sending her away to Spring/Day/Autumn?

This isn't even a ship thing at this point, like...Lucien doesn't currently have a home right now? Why are we tearing Elain away from her home to go live with a mate she does not want? If Elucien ever did get together, it would make so much more sense for Lucien to just move to the NC instead. Because Elain sure as hell is not going to live in her ex-fiance's manor, far away from her sisters, with a mate she didn't ask for and his rude bestie who literally made a r*pe joke about her (yeah, not understanding the Jurian & Lucien friendship here either).

Stop kicking my girlie out of the night court. She's staying where she belongs. If she leaves, it will be her choice. Not because her mate lives somewhere else. Not because she likes flowers. If she stays, it will be because that is her choice.

I thought it was obvious.

[aisling-saoirse]

Quaking Aspen - Populus tremuloides

Today I want to bring up a charismatic favorite: the Quaking Aspen. Like all populus species, it's a fast growing, clonal colony forming, northern extreme and mountain loving tree (just like its Eurasian sister species: A. tremula) with an incredibly wide range of distribution. In addition to all those interesting qualities, the oldest known organism is presumed to be a Quaking Aspen colony (Pando, in Utah)

General identification before I can talk about the more interesting bits, Aspens are best known for their yellow autumn leaves and smooth white bark with dark knots, they can grow as large as 60' but depending on their environment can be stunted to around 5-20' (think of krummholz). Leaves of this species appear slightly heart shaped and retain the same sheen on both sides (image 1). Plants are unisexual meaning individuals either have male or female flowers, interestingly enough this is a good method to distinguish where one colony begins and ends by looking at the color of the branches in spring (see image from Colorado below, note trees with light green and those without). Emerging catkins are white at first which become green and longer as the season changes, male catkins having slightly longer stamen but female fruiting catkins ultimately growing longest at 10 cm. Seeds are small capsules with silky hairs to assist in wind dispersion, these trees are ruderal so they produce around 1.6 Million a season with many unable to germinate. Seedlings often need consistent moisture and full sun to even germinate, most of the seeds growth goes to root structure the first year.

The name Quaking Aspen (or trembling per the Latin) refers to the extremely mobile habit of the leaf. Leaves are connected to flexible petioles (stems) which flip around in the slightest breeze. Environmentally speaking, I was once told that leaves have chlorophyll on both sides however this stem could also be a biological strategy to cope with harsh wind conditions in mountainous environments, I didn't encounter any recent research verifying this though. Interestingly enough, given the harsh nature of which this tree thrives, apparently, there is chlorophyll in its trunk, allowing extra energy to enter the tree when it's leaves are gone.

Quaking Aspen is an early succession species, able to reestablish/colonize a site after a fire or other major disturbance. Many of Upstate New York's famous Aspen forests are actually a result of logging and fires in the early 1900s rather than a typical forest compostion. Establishment is different depending on opportunity, in the west its often long lived clonal roots systems, in the high arctic its often through wind blown seed, in the east its generally short lived clones out-competed by hardwood/conifer forest after a century, and in its furthest southeastern range I typically only encounter individuals on rocky outcrops or former fields.

Above ground trees usually live less than a century, in the east maybe 50-80 years given our moisture, out west individual trunks can live two centuries. It's common to find dense forests with even-age trees since clonal root structures re-emerge together (Image above from Bluebell Knoll Mountain in Utah). Its also thought that the root system can live for two millenia or longer, Pando being an example of extreme longevity (I mean 40,000 years would survive an ice age, even in Utah there would be mountain glaciation, thats quite spectacular if true). Ironically, one of the best survival tools in the Aspen's playback is fire recovery, otherwise it will get out-competed/shaded pretty fast (see the context in image 2, that NJ forest used to have lots of aspen).

All this in mind its good to point out that Aspen's early successional habit makes it great for ecological restoration. It's common to find them as the first pioneers on former mines or superfund sites (aspen grove below from Palmerton gap, Pennsylvania). Unfortunately one of the negative side affects is that populus species often bring up a lot of heavy metals in their leaves and wood meaning they can re-contaminate through their own biological accumulation. Which is good for extracting small scale contaiminants...very bad for large sites where you need to trap metal under soil to prevent toxins from eroding offsite

All this being said Quaking Aspen's large geographic range mirrors that of the last glacial maximum, implying a rapid spread onto retreating glaciers. This also suggests a growth habit requiring wet or moist soil conditions. This range is North West to Alaska nearly touching the Arctic Ocean at its Northern-most range in the Yukon, then east to Newfoundland; south west to Mexico (usually restricted to high mountains) and east from Iowa to New Jersey (with scattered populations in West Virginia).

Since Aspen often colonizes sites of former glaciation, with climate change it's predicted there will be a northward and uphill progression of populations. Aspen isn't really in intense danger of dissappearing but studies have shown major stressors (draught, extreme heat, over-grazing) cause higher mass-mortality events from minor stressors (typically disease and insect herbivorey). Given the fact that many forests are clonal there was a question of low genetic diversity amoung populations, yet interestingly, individuals undergo somatic mutations (DNA alterations after conception) and are extremely variable, so different individuals often place different energies into different defense tactics.

In addition to all of this information Aspens are primarily used today to make paper pulp. Historically settlers used aspen to derive quinine (think gin and tonic), and indigenous tribes have a history of using big trunks to create dug out canoes.

So please go out to your nearest mountain/boreal forest to enjoy the Quaking Aspen's lovely smooth bark and haunting shaking in the wind!

[scottsmajorshipbracket]

I feel u on the positive galaxy duo stuff, scott ship acc admin

Thats why imma try and give u my Galaxy duo interpretation across seasons, with a happy ending! :]

in last life they made food and would eat together. Pearl would sing silly little improvised songs per usual, Scott was more of a gentle humming kinda guy. The humming could put Pearl to sleep very easily, good at taming dogs, I suppose. + Last Life took place during summer. Warm happy summer, bright sunshine coming in through the windows, swimming by the river, tending to crops together, feeding the birds. Fun comfy summer together with who you love most. (this will be important later on.. /silly)

during double life soulmates shared some physical traits, due to mind fuckery done by the watchers tho, they didn't notice these changes on anyone til they found their own soulmate. Scott and Pearl got their hair ends the color of the other. Pearl tried so hard to cut it off, chopping her hair with an axe, but the teal ends only grew upwards on her new ends. In the end she resorted to "dying" it, with stuff like berries, flowers and animal blood... it sorta did the work and made her happy, but ppl also thought he smelled TERRIBLE and it was another reason to not approach him. + Double Life took place in winter, cold cold winter killing crops and freezing stray animals to death, snow storms forming like a dispute between parties, who once loved one another, now falling appart. The love is still there tho, it is and it always will be. To hate with such passion, you have to love first.

in limited life, while they *said* they were okay with one another and acted friendly while in a group environment, they still had some unresolved issues to cope with. Pearl probably looked down at the coral isles, from the frog tower. Yeah their teammates, neighbors and your mother could tell they were still not normal about eachother, but hey petty pranks and odd looks are better than torturing eachother! They still miss being together, but for both their sakes they gotta wait it out more. I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. + Limited Life took place in autumn (different year). Autumn, where leaves start dying off, falling off trees. All that dead waste... it leaves the trees, it prepares for change. For once spring comes... they'll grow stronger once again :)

in secret life they finally found peace, forgave eachother mutually, better than they could have ever before. My sister, a flower expert (/hj), assigned them daisies, for they represent new beginnings. They finally get to be happy together, and they can be in different alliances! They have a good time when they do see eachother, no petty pranks for no reason. Scott even went out of his way to remind Pearl she didnt say "I love you" to him, to which Pearl immediately goes to apologize and say "I love you Scooott♡ does it still count?", and I swear I can HEAR him smirk as he goes ".. I'll take it..". People focus a lot on the finale I think. Healing is a process, it has ups and downs, of course Pearl is still hurt over double life, but she doesnt hate Scott. It wasnt just Gem who offered Pearl to join them, Scott very much wanted him with them aswell, and I refuse to think it was just out of "fear". He didn't wanna have to be up against Pearl again, theyd allied again, finally, fixed their issues. Just to be forced to fight again. I think they found peace in the end tho, while the Scar stays alive the other dead people stay around as ghosts, having to wait til the watchers get bored and make another season. I think they made up again after the finale. + afterall, Secret Life took place on spring. New life, a colorful flowery view, beautiful fields. All to share with a new bond, a new beginning. The new spring of an old connection. Beautiful and sweet. Similar to the summer they met.

Here's where it gets gay as hell tho so uhh yall can stop reading here if u dont like my mlm majormoon vision

.

.

in real life... I have NO platonic explanation for this, im so sorry but theyre literally a married couple. They ADOPTED A KID!! (Cleo, jokingly)("there you go little Cleo" "thanks mum!") I actually think they probably got engaged after the secret life finale, as ghosts, they spent a LONG time there afterall. Winners Void marriage!! Martyn officiated the wedding, Scar was Pearl's best man (theyre siblings to me but thats unrelated), Grian was their witness, I mean he had no option BUT to wintess this so.. also, during that kiss they shared, there was a spark of light in the void, in that deep darkness, the moon and his stars iluminated all around them. Back to the actual season, they can now joke around the old times no problem, they *can* have other alliances, but theyre back to good old. Like Scott said in secret life, "its destiny". Theyre faithed, way past double life, that was just a physical representation of soulmate bonds, but the connections are still real after, and were real before. I see these two bicker during real life and see a married couple, not one that hates eachother, but they tease eachother and roll their eyes at eachothers stupidity at times. They love eachother so much even with their quirks. + Real Life i'd say takes place in summer once again. Years have passed, and they passed them together. They already had something going on in last life but denied it, they were young and unsure. They've matured and are more sure of who they are and what they want. They have fun, once again, like last time.. walks along the seine, laughing in the rain, our last summer, memories that remain♡

Thats it thank you for listening to my TED talk

:O

[ronnie-quinn]

Bye-Bye, Butterfly

CG! Jin Lee and Regressor! Ming Lee 🍼

Plot: Ming and Jin watch the monarch butterflies at Point Pelee National Park.

Prompt generator by @buttercupagere

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Toronto.

The air was getting cooler. The leaves were starting to change color. It was late September, and autumn was approaching.

Jin was making breakfast when the radio that was playing announced that the monarch butterflies were migrating from Point Pelee National Park. The radio said that anyone can go watch them migrate to Mexico.

Jin thought it was a great way to celebrate the end of summer and beginning of autumn. He knew that Ming loved butterflies in both her big and regressed headspace.

After he finished cooking, he went to the bedroom so he could wake up Ming.

Jin gently opened the door and and smiled when he saw Ming sleeping peacefully with her pacifier in her mouth. She was also hugging her Celine Dion doll and baby blanket. He quietly walked over to the bed and softly shook Ming’s shoulder to wake her up.

“Ming, it’s time to wake up and say good morning to the sun,” Jin whispered.

Ming yawned as she woke up and rubbed her eyes with her fists. She then reached her arms out to Jin.

Jin happily and gently picked Ming up. She then wrapped her arms and legs around him while sucking on her pacifier.

“Morning, Dada,” Ming sleepily babbled as she rested her head on Jin’s shoulder.

“Aww, is someone feeling tiny this morning?” Jin cooed as he rubbed Ming’s back and rocked her from side to side. “Is Dada’s little panda cub feeling tiny, hm?”

Ming nodded as Jin continued rocking her. After a few minutes, he gently laid her back down on the bed. He changed her out of her pajamas and into a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans with embroidered flowers and butterflies on them. He brushed her hair and then carried her to the kitchen. He sat her down at the table and began serving breakfast.

“Hey, Ming, guess what? There’s a monarch butterfly migration happening at Point Peele National Park today. Do you want to go see it?” Jin asked after he sat down to eat.

“Migration?” Ming asked as she tilted her head.

“Yes, that’s when some animals like birds head to warmer places during the colder months. In this case, the monarchs are flying to Mexico for a while.”

“Go bye-bye?” Ming asked again as her voice began to grow quiet.

“They’re going bye-bye for a while, but they’ll come back in the spring.”

“They will?”

“Yep. Do you want to go watch the butterflies migrate today?” Jin asked.

"Okay," Ming said quietly and nodded as she continued eating.

After breakfast, Jin took Ming to the living room and turned on the TV for her, surfing the channels until he landed on Treehouse TV. He then left the living room to get everything ready for their trip. He packed up Ming’s regression bag and a cooler of food since the trip would take a while and it would be lunch time by the time they got to the park.

Thirty minutes passed and Jin finished packing. He walked back into the living room, where Ming resting her head on the couch’s arm. She had a sad look on her face, as if she was about to cry.

Jin noticed this and walked over to Ming, crouching down to her eye level.

“Are you alright, Ming?” Jin asked.

“Butterflies no go…” Ming muttered.

“You don’t want them to leave?”

Ming shook her head as tears began to form in her eyes.

“How are you feeling right now?” Jin asked.

“Happy to see them… but sad to see them go…” Ming sniffled as she sat up and the tears finally fell.

Jin gave Ming a hug and she began crying.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jin comforted as he softly shushed her and patted her back. “It’s sad for me to see them go, too.”

“Dada sad?” Ming hiccuped.

“Yeah, I’m going to miss the butterflies, and it’s okay to miss someone that’s going away for a while.”

Ming continued sniffling and crying as Jin patted her back.

After a few minutes, Jin let go of the hug and wiped Ming’s tears away.

“I know it’s hard to watch the butterflies leave, but I promise they’re not going away forever. They’re just going to take a nap in a warmer place for a few months and they’ll come right back,” Jin reassured. “And you know what? I bet the butterflies are thinking about you, just like how we’re thinking about them.”

“They are?” Ming asked.

Jin nodded and kissed Ming’s forehead.

“Let’s take a few deep breaths to help us feel better,” Jin said. He began slowly inhaling from his nose and slowly exhaling from his mouth. Ming followed along, breathing deeply as her tears slowly stopped.

“Come back?” Ming asked after taking a few deep breaths.

“They’ll come back in the spring. And when it gets warmer, we can head back to the park and see them again.”

Ming gave a small smile and nodded. Jin smiled back and gave her one more hug.

“Come on, let’s get your tuque and jacket on and we’ll go,” Jin said.

~

The trip to the Point Pelee National Park took over four hours, but Ming was happily occupied with her coloring books and storybooks that Jin packed, along with her baby blanket and Celine Dion doll. She even fed her panda and played with it in her Tamagotchi when it was hungry or needed playtime.

Once they got to the park, they walked in and found a picnic area to eat their lunch. Lunch went by in a blur and they cleaned up their area. Jin held Ming’s hand as they walked down the trail that led them to the monarch butterflies’ roosting site.

They arrived at the roosts and Ming was astonished. Monarch butterflies were flying and fluttering all over the place! Ming grinned from ear to ear.

“Look, Dada!” Ming exclaimed excitedly.

“I do see the butterflies!” Jin smiled. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Ming nodded as she and Jin watched the butterflies fly around them. A butterfly landed on Jin’s tuque and Ming began giggling. Jin chuckled at this, glad that Ming was feeling better.

After a bit, some butterflies began flying away.

Ming began to tear up again. Jin gently squeezed Ming’s hand to console her and remind her that the monarch butterflies will be back soon. She smiled back as she and Jin continued watching them fly around and migrate.

[happynowyo]

Free choice, part 2

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Aemond x Lucerys

Summary: Aemond and Luke as the new versions of Hades and Persephone. The final part with some happy ending.

Part 1

When Luke returned to his guests, the empty seat at the table next to Helaena was the evident proof that he'd got it right. Aemond had made the decision for both of them, and he'd put a stop where nothing had even begun. Pain coursed through Luke's veins and forced him to close in on himself. Loud songs no longer amused him, and sincere congratulations no longer made him smile.

— My brother will always be a loner. You should have seen him on the throne in Hell. Like a ruthless and indifferent stone. I can't believe that eight years ago we were all running down the beach together and arguing over who could steal sweets from the kitchen before dinner. Things have changed so much.

Aegon stepped silently beside him, pouring wine into Luke's glass. The role of the new Dionysus suited him just fine, but in the heat of his drunken slumber even he realized just how much of a burden Aemond was carrying. Hell had sucked the strength out of his master, fed on his emotions, changed him into a pariah who turned everything around him to ash.

— You still like him, don't you? When you were a child, you almost looked into his mouth. Even now you look for him in the crowd, even though you know he's gone. If I was a good uncle, I'd tell you to forget all about it. But I'll tell you that Aemond is stubborn. He's got it into his head that he's not worthy of anything good. That dead souls and hellfire are the only things that can be his company. But it doesn't have to be that way, you know?

Luke nodded quickly, causing the corners of his lips to lift in gratitude, but he didn't feel any better. He still remembered the firmness in Aemond's voice when he'd denied Luke even an attempt. There was hope in him that he could get over it and move on. He was eighteen, his power was growing stronger, and there was a lush spring ahead, warmth and sunshine and the bright colors of blooming flowers. He could live without thoughts of Aemond, without the memories of him that haunted him in his dreams and turned into the illusion that there they were together and he had a chance to touch Aemond and see his rare smile that immediately softened his features.

It was much harder to do that, however. The image of Aemond haunted Luke everywhere; it was literally imprinted on his retinas. His first thought upon awakening was of Aemond, as was the very last one before he went to sleep. It was as if Luke was in a fever, and longing was eating away at him day after day. He lost his appetite and stopped smiling and talking to everyone around him. Even his favorite walks in the greenhouse were no longer pleasant. The weeks flew by one after another, but Luke didn't notice them at all, withdrawn from his own feelings.

Rhaenyra was the first to worry. As a mother, it was easy for her to see that Luke got closed from everyone. But her attempts to talk to her son proved futile. Luke politely refused everything and kept saying he was tired and wanted to be alone. Real anxiety gripped Rhaenyra as the nature around her began to slowly fade. Even Alicent had told her about it once at dinner, asking her to sort things out.

It was the peak of spring, but the buds on the trees were beginning to die, and the soil was drying out even though it was raining heavily. A cloudy overcast sky blocked out the sunlight. Rhaenyra had the feeling that autumn had suddenly arrived, and as the goddess of fertility, she knew that they would have no harvest, not a single green petal, not a single living flower until Luke wanted them to. But Luke didn't care, even when people started sending him their prayers.

The situation got so out of hand that even Aemond in the underworld took notice of how many souls were arriving to him, complaining about hunger and lack of sunshine. The final sign was a letter from Rhaenyra one morning. The dim light in Hell was no substitute for sunlight and was more like moonlight. Aemond slid his eyes over the lines, and something in his chest clenched nervously. A silly, naïve heart fluttered and kept telling him it was his fault.

"I hate the very thought of it. Luke is a truly sunny boy. He should be by my side, blooming as well as spring nature, having fun with the nymphs, surrounded by the real light and songs. But we don't choose the ones we love. There must be some good in you, lord of Hell, if my son clings to you so desperately. You poison him even with your absence and your silence.

Please, Aemond. If you have a shred of the same feelings in you, make it right."

Even if he had some affection for Luke, he forced himself not to think about it. Asking Luke or making him to go down to hell with him was unfair. Deep down, he was afraid that in a couple of months Luke would be disappointed in him and run off first, leaving Aemond alone with a broken heart. He already had huge trust issues, Aemond didn't know how to let people get close, and the ugly scar over his eye socket served as a good reminder. He was cold and rough, and any rudiments of tenderness that Luke evoked in him were buried under the conviction that they were too different.

Rhaenyra's letter, however, made Aemond see things from a different angle. Maybe Luke's feelings weren't a teenage whim, maybe they would stand the test of time and life together. Maybe they were strong enough to make Luke leave his old life behind and choose Aemond. To choose cold and death. There is no life in Hell, but Luke can bring it, because it has happened before. Persephone did it once. She could even give birth to a daughter there, though the very idea of raising a child in Hell seemed absurd.

It took him two days to gather his thoughts and make the decision from which he had so long tried to escape, casting wistful glances at Luke for the past few years. Aemond knew exactly where Luke's room was in his father's castle. Getting there was no problem. The darkness hid the sound of his footsteps, and the dense, dark shadows served as an excellent screen from prying eyes. Aemond entered the bedroom just after midnight, and the all too recognizable smell of asphodels served as a signal to Luke, causing him to turn around on the bed and disentangle himself from the cocoon of the blanket. His curls were a mess, and his eyes were puffy with black circles. He looked quite shitty, but his heart was still filled with tenderness, and he was utterly fascinated by Aemond.

— Did you really abandoned your possessions? There'll be a whole line of undead souls waiting for you when you get back, — Luke's voice was hoarse after days of silence. He was tormented by curiosity as to why Aemond had suddenly shown up, but he didn't let himself think about the reason.

— The souls will never run out, but I'll pay attention to them later and pass new sentences. Did you know you have to do this on your own? Every day is too much like the last because of it. The string of dead will never end, but that doesn't mean I have to be with them every minute. There are other things that deserve my attention.

Aemond spoke leisurely and gently, gradually reducing the distance between them. He crouched on the edge of the bed and glanced out the window, where the thunderous sky was blackening and the rain was gathering again. Luke's face was almost gray without sunlight, and without proper nourishment his wrists were even thinner and more fragile. It hurt Aemond to see him like this.

— This has to stop, Luke. I know you're stubborn, but you'll drive yourself to your grave.

— Why do you care? — Luke's voice seemed a ghost of his former self. Empty and indifferent. He'd once dreamed of having Aemond sneak into his bedroom, but now he wasn't happy about even that. — Am I going to hell when I die? Or are the gods spared that fate?

— You have many years ahead of you. Or do you hope to become a ghost beside me, haunting me to punish me for inaction? — a faint chuckle crossed Aemond's lips, but it faded quickly, and he reached out to brush his hand lightly against Luke's slender fingers. As cold as his own.

— But you really didn't do anything. You didn't let me. You know what I wanted.

— You have freedom of choice. I wanted you to have more opportunities. To create and evolve. Not just be a shadow of your old self. Who would dream of sitting on a throne next to me and deciding which circle of hell the next dead soul goes to? You won't be able to grow your favorite flowers there, you won't be able to bask in the sun or call the nymphs for a merry dance around the fire. Your new company will be Hypnos and Thanatos, my ever-hungry Cerberus and Charon, who's always complaining about the deads.

The answer was beating inside Luke, and the cherished "Yes" was about to slip off his tongue. In some ways, Aemond was right. But Luke remembered the tradition — he could spend six months on the surface, with his family, bringing joy and spring. But six months alone with Aemond appealed to him far more.

— Let me try. Please. You know I've wanted you, for so long that I feel like I've loved only you all my life, ever since I was a child. Let me be near you, and if it doesn't work, if you don't feel comfortable with me, I'll go away and never bother you again, — Luke hated to ask, but he felt how important this moment was, how doubting Aemond was. It was his only chance to reach him through that impenetrable shell of false beliefs. Aemond was worthy of love and affection. Aemond needed it far more than he was willing to admit.

Luke leaned forward and met his lips halfway. It wasn't his first kiss, but it was the most desirable one. Aemond's tongue stroked across his lips and into his mouth, bringing with it the distinct taste of pomegranate, and Luke relaxed completely, hiding his smile contentedly and not noticing how the sun suddenly peeked out between the gray clouds.

[malottie]

15 19 20 24 25 26 29 30 38

❤️

that is a long ask! <3

15: what do you think when you see "home"?

honestly, i don't really know. maybe it's because my first language, french, doesn't have the concept of "home" itself, having that meaning ascribed to "house" or "one's place", things like that. maybe it's because i don't feel at home in my own body, and so cannot think about home. i know how important of a concept it is, the idea of home, but it feels sort of. empty to me. don't know why

19: favorite thing about the day

i'd say the bright sky. be it the color of ash, of peach, of sapphire, it is always lovely. do you like the color of the sky? opalescent, cerulean, violet; from summer-dawn orange to winter-dusk marine blue.

20: favorite thing about the night

the peace and rest. the dark, and the stars it invites; the quasi-silence, and the serenity it brings; the slow veil of the gods of sleep and dream.

which is why i hate big cities. to quote myself, " ... the city that humms the eerie tune of 'sleep is for the weak and the world shall never stop', blinded by the concrete and the cars and the streetlights that scream of 'the dark is to be conquered, and we shall kill the night itself too'."

24: one thing you're proud of about yourself

giving myself time. i don't have much to be proud of yet, and it's fine. i'm giving myself the time to heal and to grow properly, not rushing, not pushing myself, not being ashamed or angry at the fact i'm getting better very slowly. beside, i'm only 18. i'm just a baby

25: favorite season and why

i'm spring/fall team. summer is always way too hot, but the barrenness of winter isn't very fun, nor good for the spirit. spring is the best because we have flowers and trees springing to life, we have the sun but with fresh, moving air. it is the rebirth of the cycle of life. not that autumn isn't nice too

26: favorite color and why

that's the good stuff!! #9153ff. this

not purple. not violet. not perrywinkle or whatever. this. to the tee. changing the rgb values just a bit makes it worse, in every case.

i discovered it with the game "tomorrow won't come for those without ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️", made by etherane, the person who also made Hello Charlotte, which lives rent free in my head. it is the most perfect, most beautiful shade of purple. hue of the gods, truly.

29: what do you do when you're sad?

honestly, i kinda just crumble. my coping mechanisms are centered around NOT feeling the sadness (i know it's not healthy, i'm trying okay? T-T) so when i DO feel the bad emotions it's closer to a dam breaking over your head than being rained on. i just sort of get splattered on the ground for a while and then i get back to business as usual. in these moments i have zero energy and zero wants so i don't. really DO anything

30: one thing that never fails to make you happier

talking to people. it came as a surprise at first; i'm not really a people person, whole neuridivergent stuff and all. but when i talk with people with whom the communication struggles can be overcome, or people in the same situation as me, social interaction can feel nice. if i enjoy someone's presence, just exchanging a few words can turn my "everything is bad and everything hurts and i don't want anything or anyone, not even myself"s into "actually i love people and all of it is worth it and the whole world is scripture"s

38: favorite song at the moment

i don't really have any one song i listen to on repeat rn. i could say Sdorica-The Story Unfolds. less recently it's been Zoltraak, from the anime Frieren

[diazheartsbuckley]

Hi there :)

What color and season best represent Buck and why? Do the same for Eddie!

If you could pick something to symbolize Buck what would it be and why? Do the same for Eddie!

Thank you for this one, I appreciate it 💗

1. For Buck, I’m going to go with yellow and spring. Yellow because it’s the color of optimism and joke and despite everything that Buck has been through, he’s still able to stay hopeful and pull through and help others pull through, when he’s barely hanging by a thread. Spring, because well, everything’s blossoming and growing and starting over which is something that we’ve seen a lot of in Buck’s character development. He has literally blossomed like a flower and come out a stronger version of himself. I don’t know if that’s a reach but that’s at least what I think.

For Eddie, I’m going to go with green and autumn. Green because it symbolizes growth, renewal and endurance. Eddie’s green because he’s withstood adversity and has bounced back from so many traumas. It also represents resilience and ability to adapt, things that Eddie definitely has shown that he’s capable of over the years. Autumn because well, a bit of the same reasons actually. The weather slowly changes, leaving us with vibrant colors and an acceptance of things that are changing. And Eddie has definitely see his fair share of change over the years, hasn’t always treated him very well but he made his way thus far.

2. Something I feel like that symbolizes Buck very well is the ocean. I don’t know if you call that a thing per say but here’s why I think it symbolizes Buck: The ocean is vast and unknown and while we’ve seen a lot of Buck’s traumas and feelings on the show, we all know that there’s a lot more to it. The ocean holds so much life and abundance, something I think that Buck does too because in the face of everything, he still manages to stay alive and have the capacity for others emergencies and disasters. The ocean is ever-changing, the currents and tides representing the changes in Buck’s thoughts and feelings. He’s been so much and he continues to learn and grow every day, discovering new ways to think and feel.

For Eddie, I’m going to go with a lighthouse. A lighthouse is a beacon of hope, a guiding light, a symbol of dedication, even through challenging times. Eddie has also had his fair share of trauma yet he never wavered in his role as father, friend and firefighter. Of course he has had his moment of weakness but we all do once a while but that’s why we have others; to help build us back up. Eddie has been there for everyone in his life, even his own mental capacity couldn’t take it. He makes the 118 feel hopeful and he makes me feel hopeful because I relate to him in so many ways. I use to resonate the most with Buck but as time has passed, Eddie has such amazing character development and I love seeing all the things that he does to get better. So he’s also a beacon of hope for himself.

(Also yes, it’s a little intentional that I used two things that sort of go together. Because they go together 🫣💗)

[firesofdainix]

pspsps hello beloved marijuana I thought of something about Hideaki and wanted to share

since his appearance changes according to his mood, do you think as the apathy and indifference starts building up while he was in the cursed realm, his hair and eye color start getting duller and duller (assuming they have color in the cursed realm lmao)

I wanna talk about this in a complicated and long answer, Because I'm in the mood to talk more about Hideaki. Here's a few more facts about his powers and some more insight in his personality under the cut:

Hideaki's entire color palette, before he died, was a warm, soft spring, correlating to his initial personality of being a warm, bright child who clutches on optimism and happiness. That's why he always taps into the sub-element of spring when he uses his powers, because it reflects his attitude and way of life. He was born and raised by optimistic and well off parents who only wanted to see their children grow up happy with careers and a life ahead of them. Thus, why they let Hideaki go with FSM, no matter how sad they are about the ordeal.

Spring mostly taps into the power of Lightning, simply because spring is also the rainy season and just because I want to, lol. It can command the area in Hideaki's proximity to change or evolve in their seasonal patterns, but changing the actuality of the season is taxing for someone as young as Hideaki so he keeps it safe. He can make a flower bloom in the dead of winter, or can make a spring shower out of nowhere in the summer season. Nevertheless, he is in his most powerful during spring season, since he doesn't NEED to control the season nor temperature until he's comfortable enough to start fighting.

The Element of Seasons can also control the quality or traits attributed towards each season: Hideaki is the strongest in spring because his personality makes it compatible for him to control the season. That's why his eye color and hair, most of the time, resembles spring the most, because he's happy and joyful and all things associated with that season. He's vibrant and exudes optimism and that's what makes him so strong in a season where people get pollen allergies (idk I live in a tropical country).

Anyways, talking about moods, Hideaki could also control summer with little to no struggle as well; as a season commonly after spring, summer, in Hideaki's case, is based off raw emotions, outburst, passion and his temper flaming. While spring is his natural personality, happiness incarnate, summer is the emotions that he has to let out every once in a while. Initially, when he was a rookie elemental master not knowing what was happening to him, his confusion, anger, and frustration over not understanding why this phenomenon is tied to him accidentally almost burnt a part of the forest down because the season of summer had been tied to his emotion. It's what led FSM to find him in the first place and comfort him over why this is happening.

So, while his emotional outbursts can be tied to summer still, he has better control over how much he exudes over his element. So when his hair and eyes are in its summer colors (more vibrant and fiery), and the temperature around them is somewhat abnormally warm (especially during winter, autumn, and spring seasons), it means that Hideaki is probably experiencing strong emotions of either passion or anger. Maybe you should start talking to him before he burns down another forest again. Because of his affinity towards summer, he can tap in to the core element of Fire (because summer = hot lmao) helping either increase the temperature or decrease it. In some extreme cases, he can create a fire by making the temperature rise.

Now we go onto the elements Hideaki didn't have primary or stable control over, before he died: autumn and winter. If spring is the embodiment of his personality and how he views things in his life, while summer is his raw feelings and passion, autumn and winter are the opposites of what he and his entire being stood for... For a while, of course.

Autumn is the season represented with abundance, plentiful harvest, but simultaneously represented with death, decay, and decline. You can already see where Hideaki is struggling with this; Hideaki can only replicate or manipulate the one side of autumn that is all about the harvest and abundance of harvest, but not the other side of it. He struggles to understand that sometimes life is meant to be lost. He can tap into the element of earth, yes, but because he can't control the side of autumn very well his access to the element of earth is quite limited and closed off to him. When using autumn's powers, his appearance only appears as a slightly less desaturated version of summer because of his inability to control all of autumn. If he had any true power over the season, his colors would resemble the one in my Hideaki picture.

Some abilities he CAN do while using his autumnal powers: speeding up the process of crops being harvested, ability to detect or sense a change in direction. Autumn is the season of dormancy, which is why Hideaki struggles; he is known to be active and enthusiastic over everything, so finding himself trying to be... Lethargic or inactive is like a mortal sin for Hideaki.

Next up is winter, a season that transmutes coldness and representation of death. Hideaki also doesn't have the personality of winter (nor autumn), and is the complete opposite of his personality. It's literally the representation of inactivity, detachment, stillness, stagnance that Hideaki finds repulsive throughout his life. It's beautiful, yes, but he would rather just be able to move or feel something other than being, well, the same thing as a winter wonderland. Because of this, he STRUGGLES attempting to replicate winter or even manipulate traits that are usually associated through winter, to the point he avoids using it unless the other Elemental Masters force him to for whatever reason. He couldn't properly tap into the Element of Ice; he can make temperature frigid, but beyond that, it's a really big struggle.

(Fun fact! He actually managed to defeat the Oni of Anger with a trivial temperature decrease, to distract him, before Kokoro goes in for the kill. That's how you deal with toxic father in laws everyone!)

Anyways, about Hideaki's colors depending and changing on his mood or what season he's channeling, it's time to go into his abilities post-mortem. He was the first and last Elemental Master of Seasons (he planned for his baby to become the next inheritor, but you know what happened), so most data about his abilities is lost through history. Anyways, because he died in a gruesome, tragic way and is then subjected to the worst condition of afterlife possible, his spring and summer persona and traits start to fade.

Hideaki starts to understand what the season of autumn truly meant during his years in the Cursed Realm, filled with misery and the case of not having to do anything. Not wanting to do anything anymore, knowing that every escape, every attempt is quite futile, he started to lose hope and what made him Hideaki in the first place. While there is no concept of seasons in the Cursed Realm, he can now control all sides of autumn, tapping into the element of earth properly without any struggle. His emotions slowly but surely begin to grow stagnant, less passionate, less feeling over the years. He is only left with the growing sense of bitterness and that building apathy. Simply put, because of the prompt betrayal and murders carried about his legacy.

When autumn transitions into winter, it's not a very special change, because they're all ghosts and the only way to see whether or not they have colors is if the green pigmentation is a little lighter or darker. But Hideaki KNOWS he's been stuck in this wintry cover for over a thousand years. And yes, because spring colors are all about the softness of colors and being full, winter is the opposite of that, the colors getting duller and duller as the years went by. It's a consequence to his power, as the successor of the Great Devourer's seasonal abilities. Seasons are the driving force of his power, yes, but it also gives and takes from his own emotions, which is the biggest link of them all.

Winter is the season of death, stillness, void, and frigid. Hideaki in the next life is dead, a specter, an old incarnation of his old self. He thinks that, in the end of all things, the person he used to be is gone. It died when he died. This new person that ended up in the Cursed Realm, turned into villain, the thing he hates the most. Yet, after so many years, so much suffering, so much overwhelming emotions that couldn't be solved... he stopped. He developed the need to stop feeling. The need to not cast his expression to the stage, to be the husband the Preeminent wanted him to be. The person that is supposed to not care about anything at all. Yet as the apathy built up, so is his emotions resistance. Somewhere inside him, the last trace of spring remains, no matter how much he want to believe that the person he once was was gone.

<small>... he just doesn't want to believe that some part of him still cares about the people around him.</small>

Here's a discord convo about Hideaki's struggle with empathy and emotions, along with a character parallel I actually created with another oc of mine, Alvern, who's the complete opposite of Hideaki.

Here is also doodles of his summer and winter variant when it comes to the comparison of his most vibrant colors to his lowest, duller and blander ones:

[intuwam]

Courts:

Autumn: Seoyun, Seojun

Summer: Jules, June

Spring: Haneul, Miyoung, Guard

Winter: Ahyeon, Kihyun, Noori, Daniel

I think, summer and winter courts, because of their power, have features that can easily be masked in the human world but for spring and autumn courts it’s a lot harder, each court holds festivals and dances that are related to that. That's why, spring and autumn court fae are more likely to hold dances and celebrate within in the veil of the human world, easier for people to get trapped and entranced, winter and summer court fae, are more likely to blend in the human world but less likely to venture out. Their dances are reserved for high fae and their court only. I think summer and winter fae might see themselves as the true fae, more regal and the autumn and spring fae might be seen as more animalistic, some even going far to say they’re the deformed ones.  

Seoyun.

Seoyun and Seojun probably retain some of the same features but all in all they might be opposites of one another. They both have the same eyes, white with a single circle or film in it, seoyun’s are more on the browner side than her brother, think the color of wood and oak trees. I think she does retain some of the broadness in her shoulders as well because in autumn things are strong and grow out, but she still has feminity to it, it’s seoyun for crying out loud she’s always been rather imposing but still feminine. While seojun’s veins are gray and silver hers are brown and silver, her skin tone isn’t as warm as his though, it’s a little more on the pale side, which makes the brown and silver stand out more. While Seojun’s got antler fixtures that extend from his eyebrows, I think seoyun has these fixtures extending beyond her shoulder-blades. They start from her clavicle and just branch out and down, almost exactly like branches and her ears point and are darker in the way a female deer’s would. Her wings are silver and brown, with speckles of light blue. Her wings definitely have more of the texture and structure of wood and branches but like her brother, aren’t used for much flying because of how thin they hold against the wind. I don’t think a lot of royal autumn faes fly with their wings, they’re more grounded so their wings tend to be heavier and thicker.

Haneul.

My son. So spring is strange because it has the coldness of winter but the hopeful rain and then warmth to bring summer.  Anyway, still going with the concept that the autumn and fall courts are quirky and beautiful with distinct changes in the anatomy. Haneul I’m almost positive has fair skin, it’s not too warm actually but it’s got traces of green, silver and blue in his veins, most specifically near the corners of his eyes, in the human world it probably just looks like heavy eye bags like he doesn’t get sleep, but in the fae world they shine. Same with his eyes, they’re probably clear but have specks of pinks, green and blue in them, it might cause someone to get dizzy if they stare too much. His hair’s teal and green, really shaggy and full, but not too long it stops at his shoulders. His hands are probably the most distinctive feature, on his knuckles flowers and ferns can sprout depending on his mood or depending later on, on the state of the court. They bloom flowers and sprout when he’s good, when he’s not anything bloomed will wilt and wilted weeds will start falling from his hair. Way back in the day, before his time, the old spring court royalty could sprout new fae from the buds that grew on their skin. I wanna say royal fae are the only ones who can produce life/elements from their body, the members of their court are just born with the variations on them. Haneul’s wings, aren’t big at all actually, opposite of the autumn court, but they help to flit around a little bit, they’re not heavy and really don’t extend past his shoulder blades much, but they get the job done. They're a softer color, silver and teal.  

Most spring court fae have a little bit of teal in their veins, and it almost makes them look like they have a cold, but the brightness and warmth in their skin can help to alleviate that, I also hc that as the seasons get closer to summer they start to look duller, because they’ve spent all their energy helping things grow and bloom, and when its just pulling from winter, they look their brightest and liveliest. Spring fae also are on the shy side, they prefer to tend to the lands, flitting about with forest animals and such, and are mischievous, prefer hiding in brush and fields than the other fae.  

Guard.

Ah yes. Haneul’s favorite person. So the spring court guard are tricky, they’re not built as the winter guard but they’re not as thin as the summer guard. They are quick, but excellent at masking themselves and blending in their environments. Their weapon of choice are long range as they prefer to attack from the brush, much like autumn court, autumn court has more brawn in them however.

Haneul’s guard wears the colors pink and teal and black, this particular fae has more colors of blue in his veins than anything else, but his skin is noticeably warmer toned than that of their prince. His ferns grown from his wrists and are quick to sharpen when he thinks there is danger around them. His wings droop, long below his shoulders and are black and dark blue in color. His most noticeable feature is the green of his eyes that match the ferns in his wrist and his stature, a little more built than the others.  

June.

MY BOY.

OH BOY THE SUMMER COURT. Obnoxiously bright and stressful for all those around them. I hc that way back when, in old days, the summer high court was downright painful to look at up close because they literally shone, like the sun. But now their skin just has a glow to it. It's also quite terrifying if the court isn’t doing well, the fae look dull, dead. Anyway june my boy.

So June, god the boy is the epitome of the summer court, one look at him and you know he’s the summer court, the only difference is that most summer court boys have smaller frames, their diets aren’t like the south, fruits, veggies, beans etc. The southern winter court, prides on rices, potatoes and meats. Anyway broad shouldered bright eyed junebug.  

His eyes are a clear brown, they look dark until you get closer and they look like the shine, in the way that hazel eyes do, nothing crazy really. The film that falls over it is just to prevent it from boring into others, most summer court fae have this so that when looking at other fae, it doesn’t feel like staring into a mirror. Anyway yes brown hair, full and pretty long, usually in a ponytail bc its hot. Most summer court fae pride themselves in their hair bc it grows so full and can be sold as if it’s spun gold. High court fae rarely cut their hair, unless for special occasions. Im doing all these hc and im supposed to be writing about june. Anyway. Anyway, no matter the color of their hair, in summer court light it’ll always shine like gold.  

I think because the summer and winter fae are a lot to look at regardless, their wings can be a little on the tamer side, but they look more how you’d expect wings to look, they’re big and they’re flowy, typically burdened with the flowers that grow on them, june’s wings are big and bold in a way a butterfly’s wings are, a mixture of orange and brown but they don’t have flowers on them. The most notable thing for june is that the flowers for him grow around his eyes, little petals that shed, when they feel like it.

Jules.

OH yeah.  

So, basing off of all the headcanons I wrote about the summer court just now.

Jules is a little scary looking, in the sense that her skin is more tan and has that golden sheen to it, her hair is pale yellow and has silver in it that’s strong on the eyes, super long and goes down her back, always has to be pulled up in some kind of do. Her eyes, are the same color as her hair, that pale yellow with silver flecks in it, almost impossible to look at for too long. Her wings are just as bold as june’s big and because of her frame they tend to overtake her a lot, they’re orange and green, much brighter than his and the flowers that flowers that grow in her hair often help her to tie it up and arrange it. She's got more of the lithe frame that more summer fae have and both her wrists and the bones across her her clavicle are adorned by flower petals that grow and bloom, and annoy her on a constant basis. Summer royal court are always high and regal looking and jules is no exception, her brother holds some of the more wilder aspects of summer, where she holds the shine and beauty of it.  

BOY OH BOY THE WINTER COURT.

Here we go lads.

So yeah, okay okay okay it’s so easy to say that the winter court look dead, but they DONT, in fact they are direct foils to their summer couterparts, stll as hauntingly beautiful, in the way that countries that have more snow than summer are still so beautiful even in their cold and life still exists. Still, the conditions are harsher and the fae here show it as such. While sumemr court fae might shine some form of golden, bright or yellow, in reverance for their sun, winter court migth shine the colder, darker colors of night, they can be variations of crystal colors, midnight blues and even whites and blacks. Their wings are smaller but they’re strong, they have to be thick to last winter and cold but they don’t need to fly about much so they’re relatively useless in the way autumn wings are. I also think they have simpler, cleaner cut looks, and drape themselves in garment to stay warm when need be, but they’re quite used to the cold. Summer court probably has lighter clothing, or – none if they want, more flowy, extravagance in their hair and wings.

Noori.

but her skin is midnight blue, like cobalt, like the night sky and it shines a diamond glitter when the moonlight hits her, she’s probably also very cold to the touch I would assume. It can either be cold that its burning or cold that its soothing to a burn it depends on who she feels. her eyes are a crystal white and coupled with how dark she is, its quite the contrast, as there’s nothing in them no flecks, no specks, just white. her hair is white and a pale pink, and the most noticeable feature is the crystals protruding from beneath her eyes, almost like frozen tears, like they started as lashes and blossomed into more taking over her cheeks and going across her nose. the crystals are a mixture of blue, green, white and purple and they glow with every emotion. I think the one thing about the winter court is that depending on where you live and how you get your spoils your frame is either really lean or very built to last the winters, noori is one whose frame is a bit smaller. Her wings are just like her hair, white, but they hang pretty low as well, and are littered with the same crystals the cover underneath her eyes. They are a bit bigger than her frame, so they hang because her body cannot support them as well.

Kihyun.

Like brother like sister, they're not related but you know. kihyun’s most striking thing is definitely his wings. They're not large but they protrude out in the way spikes are, they’re black and bright blue and they make a statement. Despite his smaller frame, his wings make up most of his height and his frame. I think his skin is pretty fair, he’s not pale or anything but he’s got rather noticeable flecks of black all over his body, they look like freckles almost or kind of like charcoal bits. His eyes are black. That's all. And his hair is a lot shorter, it’s in an undercut style and is pale blue, the color of his wings. The most noticeable thing about him would be the wings honestly. In the same way that his wings protrude out like spikes, the freckles on his skin have tendency to spike out, almost like porcupine, but they’re harder, tough like cave crystals, and they hurt like fuck if they stab, and they hurt like hell if he snaps or pulls them out.  

Daniel.  

Danny boy.

So daniel is quite interesting, he was previously a member of the winter court and a feared member. He is well built, but more on the leaner side than some of the guard. Basically, he’s fit but he’s got the bulk in his arms to land the blows, the speed to move faster than other court guards might expect of a winter guard fae. He's taller, and his wings aren’t as extravagant, they’re dark blue, almost a deep green and they’re thick like wood, without much to show for the decoration inside. They extend more horizontal, than they extend vertically and he tends to fold them in to his back more often than not. Daniel's not as fair, he’s got much more noticeable tinges of blue in his veins, enough that his skin can sometimes take on that sheen, and his eyes do the same, they’re deep blue, almost black but not quite. For him, the icicles protrude from his elbows and his calves, main reasons why he’s such a feared member of the guard, he would sneak up and strike with a quickness before the enemy could realize he had weapons attached to his body. These icicles protrude from the ends of deep blue tattoos that ride up his arms to the tips of his shoulders.  

Ahyeon.

Lets start with this beauty right here.

Ahyeon! God I know the most piercing thing about ahyeon is her wings. I want them to be big and imposing, I want her unable to hide them, I want people to see them and fear that its her. Im kidding, but her position as well as kihyun’s means they need to hold their ground wherever they go and that when people see them, they know its them. Anyway ahyeon’s wings are white with black wires in between them and the pattern is noticeably commented upon. They're quite strong but they’re also quite heavy for her. Ahyeon's hair typically stays short, at her shoulders but the wires that thread through her wings also thread around the back of her head and around the back of her neck so they make it seem as if she’s got more hair than she does. Ahyeon's fair skinned, but her eyes follow the same swirl pattern as her wings, it can be a bit off-putting. The main point is that they’re white but the iris is the black swirl instead of the darker circle of a pupil. Because of the heaviness of her wings, they tend to fall low, almost drooping unless she needs them to stand proud. Sometimes, more often than not, those same wires will collect ice on them, and in the snowier seasons for the winter court they’ll hang around her wings like icicles or like she’s covered in snow. Closer inspection would reveal those thorn like wires cover around her body.

[sunshades]

HELLOOO 🍁 for tiare, marcus, and persnaps even rovi if u want :3c can be in terms of actual season and/or eladrin season for funsies

[oc asks]

OMG... babe wake up The Controversial Eladrin Question is here...

🍁 what is their favourite season? why?

(👑) well that's gotta be spring no question! (EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER AND THE LIE DETECTOR GIVES ME AN ELECTRIC SHOCK) okay. actual answer: considering the main real world ref for brasidas maybe they too have a winter that lasts all the way to march... and it'd bother them as a Concept, how it lasts so little and doesn't do nearly enough to change the place. u want it to make the whole place green and warm but it doesn't. symbolically: it was kalan's season and they're trying So Hard to be that kinda person who is unbothered and joyful but they just aren't. NOWWW in season terms. and in eladrin terms. summer is about Action and strong emotions that are sometimes Bad AND it's about the sun being annoying as fuck. and mimi's at a summer point in his life. burning light reflecting off the water and limeade that needs more sugar 🍋 and. he'll learn to like spring again probably. in the eladrin sense of letting themselves be happy bc they feel like it and not because It's The Way I Should Be and also in the literal sense of: they need to go to a big flower field in the middle of spring and see the snow thaw and see that maybe SOMEONE was right and even their home can bloom in its own way and there is something good and worth saving in it. look at it all with brand new eyes. then it'll be spring.

(🍊) oughhh my boy... having barely really met anyone with even a drop of elven blood i def think marcus doesn't really have the... cultural baggage? about seasons that tiare has, which is a little bad and a little good. as we have previously established: he's mostly been autumn all his life literally because he's Like That and hasn't really… been feeling things that deeply, in a sense. not to be always quoting that ask polly post but yk "it's the strongest emotion you've ever felt and you've convinced yourself it's your destiny". actually another: the fucking conan gray song that goes "u don't have to act like all you feel is mild (...) u don't really like the sun it drives u wild" something like that going on. been too long by himself and it's like he's forgotten that he too is... just some guy and can feel angry or attached to someone just like anyone else and there's nothing wrong with it. so that is marcus' lack of eladrin baggage 🧍‍♂️ but similarly to mithra! i think rn he likes spring a lot, all the bright colors that feel so different from him, but he'll probably grow to like autumn as a Thing later on. spring being a symbol of rebirth but autumn too as a sign of a slower change, and a time to value your memories rather than just looking for something different. the backyard covered in brown and orange leaves and his mother's hands red with pomegranate seeds.

(🏞) ROVIIIII ok actually. despite having drawn em wintery to signify that in current times they're not doing well. they actually like winter a lot! they aren't winter a lot because they're just. not pensive and reflective enough, or haven't been most of their lifeSARFDTGHDSF genuinely don't think she has much baggage about it (i'm NOT lying, unlike for the marcus answer) which i guess is the positive point of having grown up in the feywild! they've always been used to change, it doesn't seem to bother them. anyway. i think the season roviere's most aligned with (and probably my favorite color palette for them also DCGHJD) is spring for sunlight til late in the evening and good winds perfect for seafaring. ideal conditions. but if you asked them: summer because they think they're hottest as a blonde. fall is probably nonio's favorite because the red to blue gradient is pretty and to him it means they're not Hyper Spring Mode so maybe they could sit down to relax together. so rovi likes it too by proxy.

[galaxofmuses]

"I also grow sunflowers! My cabin has so many out front, and it becomes to vibrant in spring and summer. The tulips on the little hill near by paint so many colors behind the tall vibrant yellow flowers." Maria releases a soft breath of wistfulness. Already missing the vibrancy of the seasons that have changed. But Autumn and Winter could be just as beautiful in their own ways! Even if Winter had proven to be hard on her all the time. At least her illness hadn't killed her yet. She still did her best! "It is settled then! I would love to meet this friend of yours, and the three of us share advice and seeds." One day, mayhaps.

But then suddenly, the jovial air came to a stop. As Sonic seemingly tried to place who her friend may be, or the where, then just... Stopped.

Maris stopped next to him, looking down as he seemed to be lost in thoughts now, eyes wide and pupils small. And she knew, just KNEW, what was happening. That was a rush of panic. Something he thougght of had suddenly sparked unpleasant thoughts, or maybe memories in him, and she had no idea just how deep it went.

But that did not stop her. "Sonic!"

Quickly, Maria knelt down to be at his level, one hand still holding his and squeezing tightly, while the other reached up and gently placed on top of the hedgehogs head. Her touch so gentle, almost delicate. "Breathe. Deep in, and slow exhale out. Look at him. Tell me one thing you can feel, two things you can hear, and three you can see."

A regular tactic that her grandfather used on her to help ground.

Sure he has repressing so many times. Too many times to count. Too many memories. Too much pain. Failed to save Shadow in time, but yet he smiled back at him and yet Sonic can only grasp is the inhibitor ring that he kept in years under his glove. It was the only thing that keeps him alive and as a reminder about him. Gripping his glove as he felt like his body was floating away back in space. He hated looking at the stars for awhile....it took so much time to appreciate the twinkling skies and with the help of his friends.

Sonic can hear a soft voice and loud murmurs and felt...

a hand....and another.

He was finally free from that moment of panic and looks to see a very concerned Maria. Taking the few deep breathes as his heart is still racing. She is asking simple questions as he nods to answer.

"Y-Your.....the...hand...." Focusing on her guidance as he proceed to answer more questions as the panic starts to dwindle. "W-Wind, Ocean...the cars...and umm...can see....trees....ocean and...you." The tactic seems to do the trick as the heartbeat slowly down and same with his breathing. The feeling on his chest doesn't constrict any longer and filled with relief.

"S-Sorry about that..."

He slowly pulls back the glove on the left and there is the inhibitor ring that is infused with the fake Chaos Emerald on his wrist.

"I....I've met your friend before...It was Shadow. Right?"

[mohitbansalchandigarh]

Photo Challenges: Finding Inspiration by Mohit Bansal Chandigarh

Photography is not just about capturing images; it's also about exploring creativity and pushing your boundaries. One effective way to enhance your skills and keep your passion alive is through photography challenges. Here’s a list of monthly challenges designed to inspire you and expand your photographic skill set.

January: New Beginnings

Kick off the year by capturing images that symbolize new beginnings. This could be anything from a sunrise, new plants sprouting, or people starting fresh. Focus on storytelling through your photographs.

February: Love in All Forms

In honor of Valentine’s Day, this month’s challenge is to capture love in its many forms. Document moments of affection, friendship, or family bonds. This is a great opportunity to practice portrait photography and candid shots.

March: Textures and Patterns

Explore the world around you by focusing on textures and patterns. Look for interesting surfaces in nature, architecture, or everyday objects. This challenge encourages you to pay attention to details and enhances your compositional skills.

April: Nature Awakens

As spring arrives, focus on capturing the beauty of nature. Photograph blooming flowers, lush landscapes, or wildlife. This challenge allows you to experiment with macro photography and explore different lighting conditions.

May: Street Life

Take to the streets and capture the everyday life around you. Document local culture, street vendors, and candid moments of people going about their day. This challenge is an excellent way to practice street photography and develop your observational skills.

June: Minimalism

Challenge yourself to capture minimalist compositions. Focus on simplicity and negative space in your images. This can help you learn how to convey powerful messages with fewer elements in the frame.

July: Reflections

This month, seek out reflective surfaces to create intriguing images. Look for reflections in water, glass, or even puddles. Experiment with angles and perspectives to create unique compositions.

August: Black and White

Step away from color and explore the world of black and white photography. This challenge encourages you to focus on light, contrast, and texture, helping you see your surroundings in a new way.

September: Movement

Capture the essence of movement in your photographs. This could include anything from people in action to the movement of water or clouds. Experiment with different shutter speeds to convey motion effectively.

October: Seasonal Changes

As autumn sets in, document the changes in your environment. Capture the rich colors of fall foliage, seasonal activities, or even the transition in weather. This challenge is perfect for landscape and nature photography.

November: Cultural Heritage

Explore and capture the cultural heritage of your city or community. Photograph traditional events, festivals, or historical sites. This challenge allows you to tell stories through your images and deepen your connection to your surroundings.

December: Festive Lights

End the year by capturing the magic of festive lights. This could include holiday decorations, city lights, or any form of illumination. Experiment with long exposures to create captivating images that convey warmth and cheer.

Conclusion

These monthly photography challenges are designed to inspire creativity and help you grow as a photographer. By stepping out of your comfort zone and trying new themes, you'll not only improve your skills but also discover new perspectives in your work.

By Mohit Bansal Chandigarh, I hope these challenges motivate you to explore and capture the world around you in fresh and exciting ways!

[toozmanykids]

Oh WOW. This was gorgeous. That leather jacket wrapped around her. SWOON!! All of this was so visceral and palpable. You truly transported us inside her body so we could experience each of her senses. So far this Illuminate AU set of stories is beautiful. Was this last Halloween? Is that what I saw? Bravo. Bravo!!!

I don't have any deciduous trees in my yard that change color or drop their leaves each autumn, but growing up in the Midwest, yardwork was definitely a big part of everyone's daily life.

I was never forced to do the yardwork as a chore when I was a kid - my mom actually enjoyed it. She found simple lawn mowing to be especially relaxing, a good workout, and very gratifying. She was never big into flowers aside from simple petunias or impatiens maybe planted at the base of the single light post on the yard, and the wild rabbits would eat them up quickly every year anyway. But she moved the lawn weekly, edging along the driveway and sidewalk, trimmed the hedges perfectly into one big rectangle in front of the door and four smaller spheres beside it lining the walkway up to the front door. Then she raked in the fall and used the snowblower or shovels to do the driveway and sidewalk, and then the same for our neighbors who were away in Florida every fall and winter ("Snow bunnies") so their house wouldn't look vacant.

It was all never my job, but I guess I was out there with her helping out often enough as I was growing up that it still feels part of my childhood. Actually the only thing I don't remember specifically having experience doing was the hedge trimming. I vaguely remember using the manual hedge trimmers, but I can't say I ever remember using the big electric hedge trimmers. Huh.

Sorry to ramble on here, but you really transported me back to memories of racking leaves, and how much yard work as a whole was part of life in the Midwest.

And where I'm bringing my kids up now, we don't get snow. It rains all winter, come Spring and summer we're pulling all the weeds that grew up through the mulch during the rainy season. I'm thinking about it now, and we desperately need to add a nice thick layer of mulch again this summer, and definitely need to get those weeds dealt with in the backyard. Since we won't have rain again until likely November, those weeds are just a fire hazard. And fire season seems to start earlier these past several years. Hot winds from inland can send a spark anywhere it wants to go. Gotta have a go bag packed. Our friends were able to get their daughter, mother in-law, dog and 3 chickens out of the house and into the car in under 10 minutes once they smelled smoke. The police were driving through the neighborhood with a megaphone to evacuate as they were getting into the car. The fireman saved their entire neighborhood that day, 40 houses. PHEW!

WOW - I sure went off on a tangent there and didn't I?? Sorry about that. But it is amazing how different landscapes shape lives.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as abuse, gore, blood, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your marriage is marred in misery with no escape in sight... until he shows up at your door. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: Adam Warlock

Note: I hope ya'll like this one. I know it's a new and not so popular character.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The bin crashes down into the shrapnel of plastic and trash littered across the kitchen tile. Shane kicks an empty yogurt cup as you stare down in futility as the mess. If he didn't insist on the cheap bags, they would tear so easily but you're not stupid enough to say so.

"I work all fucking day and come home and you want me to take out the goddamn trash! Now look!" 

You gulp, batting your eyes at him, paralysed in fear. You can't make your body move. You should grab a new bag and clean it all up, insist that he go sit down and you'll do the work. He doesn't give you a chance for all that as he lunges at you.

You step back on your heel with a squeak, caught around your neck as he spins and swings you around with him. He hooks a foot around yours, bringing you easily to your feet, bending you over the stinking potato skins as your arms shake. You fight to keep him from mashing your face into the garbage.

"And where's dinner? What am I supposed to eat? Maybe you should swallow this all up and you'll realise the sort of bullshit I gotta come home to," he snarls, "stupid fucking bitch."

“I’m s-sorry,” you croak, throat scraping as you try to swallow a sob, “I’ll… I’ll clean this up–”

“Damn right you will,” he barks and jerks you as he rips his grip from your neck, “useless…”

He kicks a plastic tray at you before he stomps off, leaving you to stare at the mess. You sit back on your heels, quivering, and exhale slowly. You shift and reach behind you, opening the cupboard under the sink to retrieve a new bag.

You peel it open and gather up the garbage, piece by piece, focusing on the task as you ignore the odor and the occasional moisture that smears on your hand. As you get it tied up, you stand, choking on your tears as they spill out unstemmed. 

You sneak out the back door and carry the bag around the side of the house. You keep your chin down, hoping your neighbours don’t witness your despair. You come up to the gray bin and lift the lid, shoving the bag inside and letting it close with a thunk.

You grab the handles and wheel it away from the siding, the large container rattling as you force it along the uneven grass and onto the walkway. The wheels bounce on the cracks in the pavement and you stop to pull open the white picket fence, paint flaking away beneath your touch.

You continue on and guide the bin to the curb, letting it rest there as you sniffle and try to shake away the last of your weeping. You can’t go back inside like this. If he sees you crying, it will only make him angrier. 

You look across the street at the other houses; they’re all nicer than the rundown rental you share with Shane. Where the leaves are strewn in a layered carpet across the mulch of your lawn, the others have the autumnal canopy neatly raked into piles. When you asked for him to grab the rake, his answer was especially bruising. So you’ll see if you can’t get to it tomorrow.

You sigh and turn on your heel, squeaking as you nearly collide with another. You didn’t hear or see the man approach. There was no shadow in his approach, no footsteps scuffing to warn you. You press yourself to the bin as you look up at him. Your chest compresses under some unseen force as the air is forced from your lungs.

You try to apologise for your carelessness but your lips can only form the singular stutter, ‘s-sorry’ as your voice is trapped in your breathless throat. You stare at the man. It’s almost as if he had been waiting for you to turn around.

The leather jacket, the patch sewn on the left-side of his chest, the cool confidence of his posture, they all assure you of who he is. Of the danger he carries with him. You blink up dumb, waving in front of your chest as you try to eke out a single noise, pleading with him not to be angry.

His pale blue eyes twinkle as his smiles, a soft crinkle beside his eyes as the dimming night limns his long face. If Shane saw you standing here with this man, of any, he would lose his mind. You have to get back inside. You have to get away from this stranger.

“No sorry,” he says, his voice rocky but not unkind, “I am in your way.”

He slowly steps aside, retreating as he goes to rest his hand on the post of the white picket gate. He waits expectantly, waving you within as his smooth, deliberate movements fill you with dread. There is a carelessness in him which betrays fearlessness. You will never know what it’s like to not be hounded by inexorable dread. It both irks you and scares you.

You make yourself move. You cross the sidewalk and enter through the open gate, as he looms over you. His gaze is hot on you, clinging and suffocating. Your heart hammers with adrenaline. If there is anyone you fear more than Shane, it is these men and their black leather shadows.

“Have a good night,” he says as he pulls the gate shut between you, “I hope whatever makes you sad does not keep you awake…”

You can breathe again. You gulp in air and fold your hands in front of you. You turn to the man and nearly gasp. There’s something eerie in how he lurks, in how he is both draped in shadow but shines among it.

“Good night,” is all you can get out.

“No moon,” he says as he draws his hand away from the wooden post, “it will be a good night for rest.”

He puts his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket. His breath fogs around him, billowing over his shoulders as he strides through it. You watch his silhouette as he departs, his footsteps make no noise and the night seems to close in around him until you can see him no longer.

You shudder and hug yourself as you back up. You turn, fighting a tugging that tries to keep you outside. You head back between the house and the fence as a chill creeps up your spine. 

Your stomach pits as a sudden desolation overwhelms you. You feel hollow and heavy, as if you could collapse right there. You can’t, you have to make dinner. You won’t get much sleep if Shane goes hungry.

🌑

Shane leaves at the usual time. His shifts at the factory are your only escape. They don’t always feel like that as you spend the hours worrying about his return. About what mistake he’ll find when he gets home. So your time is spent still keeping him happy, though you’ve never managed that.

Along with the endless list of chores come those thoughts. Those regrets and questions of how it ended up like this. On when he started to hate you. On when you decided to accept that.

You pull on one of his flannel shirts and a pair of jeans. You dig out some gardening gloves from the shed and take the rake with you as you put your mind to clearing the lawn. The autumnal air is crisp but fresh. It’s almost refreshing.

You come out to the front of the house, starting at the walkway, clearing it of the leaves, brushing them onto the grass. From there, you drag the teeth of the rake away, pushing the growing pile towards the corner of the fence. 

Sweat beads on your forehead and dampens beneath the layers of clothing. You huff out a thick hot breath into the cold air. The briskness sneaks down the back of your collar and chills you.

“The winter is close,” the statement startles you from your work.

You plant the rake and grip the handle, facing the figure outside the fence. It’s the same man. Your lips part but you can’t say a word.

“Can you feel it?” He asks.

Your jaw chatters. His eyes fall to your lips as you try to hide it. He steps forward and sets his hands on the points of the fence, leaning in.

“It’s colder when you are alone…” he says.

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “I am not…”

You look back at the house and he chuckles. You turn back to him and bring your other hand to the wooden rake handle. He considers the leaves on the ground with interest. He pushes himself straight. He seems taller than before.

“Are you not?” He asks cryptically. “This is a lot of work for only one.”

You shrug, unsure how to answer.

“I can help.”

Your mouth is dry and your tongue is sticky. You make yourself talk.

“I don’t know you…”

“Adam,” he says pointedly, “my name is Adam. Tell me your name, then we will know each other.”

You speak before you think. As if you didn’t have a choice. Even if reluctance needles at the back of your mind, knowing that Shane would not want you to speak to this man, your name tumbles out as if you owe it to the stranger. Adam.

“Beautiful,” he remarks as he nears the fence, reaching over to the clasp, “let me help.”

“N-no,” you drag the rake with you and catch the gate as he lifts the latch, “please–”

“You must rest,” he shows his palm in a strange gesture, sweeping it in front of you, “you are dizzy and feel unwell. You need to sit down.”

Silver stars speckle in your vision and you feel the world shift under your feet. You look down and clutch the rake tight, feeling as if you might fall over. You let go of the fence and take a step back as you touch your forehead.

“I am… lightheaded,” you admit, confused at how suddenly it come upon you.

He pushes the gate inward and enters. He shuts it with a gentle metal clink and grips the rake above your hand. You recoil, letting him have it as your limbs grow heavy. He leans the tool against the fence and turns to you again.

“Please,” he puts a hand on your arm, the contact filling your head with smoke, “sit down, bunny.” He ushers you to the front steps and helps you sit there. He braces your shoulders and bends over you, “you will not move until I bid.”

You look at him, confused but comforted by his touch. You nod. He pulls his hands away, caressing your cheek before he stands straight. You shiver and hug yourself.

He lingers as his zipper cuts in the air. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and swings it around you, the smell of leather surrounding you. He tugs it snug around you and retreats. You can’t help put pull it tighter as another scent tickles your nose; him.

His boots mulch across the leaves and grass and he grabs the rake. He resumes your work, easily heaping up the clutter, the steady scrape of the tines easing you. You look up and watch him. He is unbothered by the cold despite the thin cotton of his black tee shirt. His muscles tauten beneath the fabric as he works.

You feel sleepy as the pale sky blurs around his stark figure. You’re hypnotised by his steady motions, his easy strength. A strand of his golden hair falls forward as he focuses on the ground, gathering up the leaves with diligent care. Your lashes cling to each other and your eyelids itch. 

You hug the jacket closer and dip your nose behind the collar. The weight of fatigue settles over you and coaxes your eyes shut. The rake continues to scrape in your ears even as you sink down into oblivion.

🌒

You wake to blackness. Dark lines trim the corners of the room as slowly your vision lifts to a dull gray. The night stares in through the windows, frosted with the slow creep of winter. The wind howls and rattles the pane in the frame. The cold looms outside like a spectre but does not enter.

You are warmer. Too warm. Your body heat enshrines you beneath the quilt pulled to your chin. Despite your want to escape from the stolid cocoon, you do not move. A languid weight keeps you at peace despite your discomfort.

You’ve never felt like this, so calm. There’s a dull tapping at your skull that tells you to worry, to be afraid, but it’s quickly smothered and forgotten. Why should you be? You are home and safe in bed.

You let your eyes close and hum. You just want to sleep, to slip away and never wake up. You drift, mind skewing as if you’re floating on a tide. Then it swells and crashes over you with the dark growl that seeps in through the wall.

Your breath hitches and your lashes snap open. Your ears itch as you listen, trying to hear through the plaster. There are soft, muted murmurs but nothing discernible. You quiver as you hang in the limbo; do you stay or get up?

Slowly, you bring your hands up and pull the quilt away from your face, peeling it with effort past your chest. Cool air sweeps over you, urging you to nestle back beneath the patchwork. You hear it again, like a beast it grits deep through the air, gravelly and harsh.

Sitting up is difficult. That same dizziness blurs your mind. You squeeze your eyelids shut and bid away the echoing auras. When you look again, the world is steady. You stand without reaching for the lamp. You wade through the darkness like quicksand, each step impeded by unseen bounds.

At the door, you wait, hand on the knob, brass cold to the touch. You inhale and taste the air wafting in around the frame. It’s sharp and frigid. 

You turn the knob and lift the door on its hinges. You peek down the hall, it’s dark but for the orange flicker glowing from down the hall. That house, the place you call home, the walls you could etch from memory, is suddenly strange and sinister.

You let go of the door and tiptoe out, the voices drawing you in. The conversation garbled in your fuzzy ears. It isn’t until you get closer that you can make out the words. That you recognise the familiar tones.

“What.. are you… waiting for?” Shane’s words are interspersed with moist gulps and groans.

A snicker, short and stony. There’s little humour in the laughter. Adam replies, “justice.”

“You…criminals are all the same,” Shane utters through laborious breaths, “bunch… freaks… like you… should leave… this town.”

“We own this town,” Adam says, “there would be nothing but dirt if it wasn’t for us freaks.”

A hork and the wet splat of spit on the floor jolts you. You stop just before the doorway, shuddering as you hesitate and look back down the hall. You can go back to bed and hide. If you do, you might wake up and realise it’s all just a rotten nightmare.

“Come on, bunny,” Adam calls to you.

You spin back, finding yourself still alone with only the lip of the wall between you and the flickering amber light. You put your hand on the plaster and your other on your chest. He cannot mean you.

“I hear you,” he says evenly, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

You put your foot out and slowly reveal yourself. You turn and face the room from the doorway. You see the single taper burning on the mantel and the tall shadow beside it. Adam lurks with his straight-shoulder but slack posture. 

There is another, in one of the wooden chairs from the dining set, slumped and held up by knotted leather belts. You can see only the back of Shane’s oily black hair. You come forward, eager but terrified to see more of him. 

His right eye is swollen shut, a cut weeping beneath, and his lips dribble blood down his chin. He leans forward, kept upright only by his bounds. His breathing is rickety and shallow. He looks at you with his left eye and grunts.

“...bitch…” he mutters under his breath, “slut…I always… knew…”

“Ah ah ah,” Adam tuts and makes himself taller. Shane flinches and swallows loudly, choking on his split and blood, “you mustn’t value your tongue very much.”

Adam reveals a long dagger, the orange glint of the candle reflecting off of it. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. The metal is both dark and gleaming, a perfectly forged fuller down the middle of the blade.

You turn as you stand transfixed by the sight of your husband. Only then do you notice the scarlet leaking down the front of the wooden armrest, staining deep the veins of the wood. There are three fingers remaining on his right, and one less on his left hand. You cup your mouth behind your hand, catching a scream before it can erupt.

“Shhhhhh,” Adam hushes as he presses himself to your back, “I only had a sampling…”

“What have you done?” You whisper as you gape at the ruin of the man before you. His clothing is shredded so that it reveals the long gashes on his chest and the slices down his thighs. “Why…”

“The strong should protect the weak, not harm them,” he bends and nuzzles your hair, “but more, the weak are not helpless.”

“I don’t understand…” your eyes sting as Shane clenches his jaw and glares at you. How often you saw that same glimmer in him. That sheer hatred that made you wonder if he ever loved you.

“You understand,” Adam’s hand trails down your arm and he pulls you around. He presses the handle of the dagger against your palm and closes your fingers around it, “you know exactly what must be done.”

“Please, I can’t…” you whimper, “you… you hurt him. You’ve…” you look at Shane again, “how could you?”

“I could have cut his heart out by now,” Adam sneers, “but I do not own that.” He squeezes your hand, “it is not mine to take.”

“What…”

“I know what he does. He will not stop. Not until you are dead,” Adam insists as he raises the dagger, his hand still around yours, “or he is.”

He drags you towards Shane and aims the tip of the blade at the slouched man’s chest. He holds it there as you shake, whining as you try to free yourself. His strength is unbending and unbroken. He puts a hand on your back, gripping you tight as he keeps the dagger steady.

“I cannot free you, you must do it yourself…”

You close your eyes. This must be why the townsfolk whisper of the men in leather. Why they scatter at the sight of them. Murderers! Monsters!

“Please–”

“He has made you weak,” Adam purrs into your hair, “I have come to make you strong.”

“No–”

“Yes, you must,” he growls along the rim of your ear, “remember all he has inflicted on you. The names he’s put upon you; bitch, slut, useless, nothing…” he hisses as his hand crawls up to your neck, “how he broke your nose on your wedding night.” 

Your heart races, pounding in your ribs. How could he know that?

“How he put your hand on the lit burner when you forgot to buy milk,” he continues, your shaky grasp tightening as your tears crest and fall free. 

“Or how just the other day, he would have rubbed your nose in garbage like an incontinent mutt–”

“Stop!” You cry out, “stop! How do you know–”

“I know a beast when I see one,” Adam turns his head, his cheek against your temple, “I know a rabid one should be put down before it can maul again.”

“But… but… I love him,” you sniffle.

“Do you?” He lets his hand fall away from yours but you don’t rescind your reach, you don’t move the dagger away from Shane, “does he love you?”

You know he does not. He never did. You were only ever the stupid girl who fell for him. You realised too late what he really was and now you were trapped for life. 

You would be miserable with him until the day you died. Not because he loves you, but because he loves to hurt you.

The tip sinks through the flesh without resistance. You're stunned as you do not stop yourself from letting it further, from pushing it through the layers of fat and muscles, leaning into it until you can’t force it any deeper. You watch the steel bury into him as blood spurts out around your hand and sprays up your sleeve. 

Shane does not scream. He cannot as you pierce his heart. His head falls forward and his body goes limp. You keep a hold of the hilt and jerk it as try to wrench it even deeper.

Your hand is slick with his blood and slips off. You raise a fist instead and hit his lifeless shoulder. You hit him again on the head, another strike to his stomach, and a kick for good measure.

You bring your hands up and look at your blood stained hand, your other palm streaked with flecks of his death. You heave and try to scream but you cannot. You collapse to your knees and keel over onto your elbows. 

You should cry but you cannot. Your tears evaporate as grief eludes you. It should hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt? You’re not sad, but you’re not happy. No, you are free.

The floorboards creak and you raise your head as Adam kneels beside you. He touches your chin as his other arm slings around you. He pulls you to him and presses his lips to your temple.

“They will find him,” he caresses your cheek as he speaks, “but they cannot take you if you are with me.”

“Take me?” You ask dumbly.

“They will call you murderer, they will lock you up,” he coos, “I will keep you safe, bunny.” He dips his hand back down and nudges your chin up. He looks down at you, eyes shining silver in the candlelight, “I will keep you happy.”

[the-unrelated-theorist]

Theory: what if the path thru the underground is more vertical than it looks? Think about the seasonal progression: we start at autumn, which could conceivably be the actual time on the surface, given that there are plants growing and the whole thing is in sepia tone, which is a sort of autumnal color palette. Also, if you've ever been caves, you know that the temperature in a cave doesn't change much, as the cave temperature is basically the average of the summertime highs and the wintertime lows of that region. For instance, caves in a place where the temperatures range from 20 degrees F to 100 degrees F are generally 50-60 degrees. So the inside of a cave in such a region would feel like autumn.

We get past the Ruins door and encounter snow. Of course, it doesn't snow inside caves, but sometimes caves can get cold enough to freeze water. I can't find any scientific reason for Snowdin to be colder than the Ruins, but maybe it has something to do with the Ruins door being closed, so no warm air from above can get in.

But it warms up as we go deeper. We get to Waterfall and all the snow melts and things get slushy. And then we get to the Hotlands, and what do we find there? Magma. All of the Hotlands is built in a pool of magma.

And our next to last stop is called... The Core. *shrug* Given that we just passed through a pool of magma, why couldn't we be at the Earth's core?

But then apparently we pass right through it to get to New Home, because it's more like spring or fall temperatures again. Birds are singing and flowers are blooming.