#Rambler rose

[wildlifegermany]

Die überreiche Blütenpracht der Ramblerrose (Albertine), blüht nur einmal im Jahr. In schönsten Nuancen von hellrosa bis lachsrosa strahlen die Blüten dem Betrachter entgegen. The abundant floral display of the rambler rose (Albertine), only blooms once a year. The flowers shine towards the viewer in beautiful shades from light pink to salmon pink.

[i-identify-plants-in-pictures]

Rosa multiflora / Many-Flowered Rose

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Saturday 8 June 2024

On the garden cottage in the Walled Garden, Gordon Castle, Scotland, the vigorous Rosa 'Albertine' (rose, rambler) was in full flower. The clusters of double, salmon-pink flowers were very fragrant on a warm June evening. This rambler grows best in an open, sunny site in moist but well-drained soil with an annual mulch of well-rotted manure or compost.

Jill Raggett

[maoyeamh]

[kaoharu]

ok ill bite. whats jack jeanne. how do i play.

hi rose

^ me. rn btw. utc bc yves is the rambler. as we know

UHMUHMM so basically jack jeanne is a stat raising otoge/vn rhythm game hybrid ( that sounds. like a looot but its not that bad. also its only on switch !!! ) and basically u play this girl ( kisa tachibana <333 ) who is going to this all boys acting school bc the principal is like. we need to breathe more life into our school by having women. unfortunately the ppl in chargw are old guys who have sticks up their ass and dont agree w me but if u can pretend to be a boy and get a lead role in the end of the year performance it will convince them that u can stay and then we cant let women in 👍

its not a traditional otoge in the way that like. u dont rlly lock onto a route afaik ? u just have stats that correspond w each character which u need to be certain levels + have enough affection w them in order to trigger events ( which u can pick and choose ao like ? essentially u pick ur own route )

aaaaand basically the rhythm game part is like. their performance songs in their plays its very cool and fun. they sing and dance ( the dances are SO funny btw. i laugh a little everytime. im sorry kisa )

i think thats kinda. it w/o spoiling the plot. BUT I LIKE IT VERY MUCH game handcrafted for me.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[majikuriboh]

I’m finally done with my flower embroidery project 🌸 🌹

[redr0sewrites]

Could you please do fluffy Lucifer head cannons! (I love your Hazbin hotel hcs💗)

🥀A/n: YESSSS OFC!! i love luciii hes so cute

🥀Cw: none, just fluff!!!

lucifer is a very touchy person in general, and when it comes to his partner, he just ADORES giving and receiving affection from you. he always wants to be touching you in one way or another, but he always makes sure to ask beforehand.

he rubs your thumb when you both hold hands!!!! he also seems like the type to gently swing his arm when you both are holding hands and walking side by side, he's just giddy about getting to spend time with you!!!

lucifer loves showing you off. he's definitely bringing you to every event that he attends, and is proudly stating that you're his partner at any given opportunity

MATCHING COUPLES ITEMS!!!! ive said it before and i'll say it again, lucifer is the type to ADORE matching couples outfits, jewelry, mugs, literally anything! u guys have SOOO much matching stuff simply because he adores it

loves sitting in your lap. there is no place in the world more comfortable for lucifer than in your arms, and he just loves being able to cuddle with you in your lap. he MELTS whenever you touch his hair, and is overall very touchy

if your taller than him, he ADORES hugs from behind!!! he loves when you rest your chin atop his head, and won't even mind some light teasing about his height.

loves tickles!!!! sometimes he'll wake you up with tickles or kisses across your face, just so he can hear your laughter

lucifer can't fall asleep without touching you in some way! if you aren't a very cuddly person while you sleep, that's ok, but he still asks to link pinkies while sleeping just so he knows you're there. if you are a fan of cuddles, prepare to be clung to!!

he would adore it if you got along with charlie, and definitely persists at trying to get you two to hangout. he loves the idea of the three of you being a family and doing family things together, and charlie is just happy to finally see him happy, so she's very grateful towards you

lucifer is a RAMBLER, he loves talking about his special interests and cares a lot if you listen to him and act interested too! you definitely learn a lot of duck facts from him, along with anything else that's interesting that he's picked up over the years

FLIRTY!!!!!!! he's sooooo cheesy, and definitely uses the cringiest pickup lines. sometimes he does it to be funny, and sometimes he does it to be serious. he also has a BUNCH of nicknames and petnames for you, and some are satire while others are more genuine

to name a few of the satire one, he'd probably say duckie, pookie, and prince/princess (ironically tho). unironically i think he'd call you dear or "my dearest", darling, and honey as well. he isn't afraid to call you pet names in public, he honestly refers to you more as "dear" than your actual name! i also think lucifer would make up nicknames based on your name specifically. you could have a 3 letter name and he'd still somehow shorten it. definitely gives you nicknames related to your name, say for example your name is rose, he's absolutely the type to call you "rosie posie" instead of just rose

writes you little notes throughout the day and sends them to you magically :) he also buys you practically anything you want, he is rich after all

overall he's very affectionate, and he could never pick a love language when it comes to giving. he just has so much love to give, and he makes sure you're spoiled with affection!!!!!!!!

ack sorry this is so short i promise im still trying 😭 school and family *cough* mom *cough* stuff has been lowkey kicking my ass but ive been SO motivated to write it's actually insane so im trying to power through my 100+ hazbin hotel requests even though ive lowkey moved on- i still enjoy the fandom, but i just need a break yk? ANYWAYS!!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS, ESPECIALLYYYYYY ARCANE, TDP, OR ACOTAR REQUESTS!!!!!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Blossom

beautiful words with "blossom" for your next poem/story

Appleblossom - a grayish red that is bluer, less strong, and slightly lighter than bois de rose, bluer and slightly less strong than Pompeian red, and bluer, lighter, and stronger than livid brown

Blossomhead - surf scoter i.e., a common American scoter (Melanitta perspicillata) of which the adult male has conspicuous white markings on the head and neck with otherwise black plumage and the female and young are grayish brown

Blossomless - being without a blossom

Blossomry - blossoms

Blueblossom - a blue-flowered California shrub (Ceanothus thyrsiflorus)

Emblossom - to cover or adorn with blossoms

Peachblossom - moderate to strong pink that is yellower and lighter than hermosa pink or nymph pink; a deep pink to moderate purplish red that is bluer and stronger than rambler rose

If any of these words inspire your writing, do tag me or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

[nerdieforpedro]

I love how you write and it makes me so glad you are here.

can I ask what inspired you to start?

signed - a maybe inspired future fic writer

This is such a wonderful ask! 🥰

I'm glad you enjoy my writing. I have ideas and I write them is my short answer and explains nothing I realize.

The long answer:

I've written fanfic before, off and on for maybe the last 10-15 years. Very different fandoms. Started out with anime, dabbled a bit in Yaoi then transitioned to Marvel and now I'm firmly planted in the Pedro Pascal, Oscar Issac, Benny Miller triangle of hotness.

Fanfic for me is an expression of a story, show, movie, video game or pice of media that I enjoyed so much, I just had to make something. I can't draw, no mixing of hot tracks or beats, I've just started dabbling in photo editing this year and am a beginner at that. It's all purely fun for me. I enjoy it and it's fun to share with other people who create and are like, "Hey! You like that? I like it too. Let me see yours and I'll show you mine. Where'd you get the idea for that?" And then hilarious conversations leap from there.

What inspired me to start specifically in the Pedro Pascal fanfic world was The Mandalorian. It was the first time I realized, "that's the man I've seen before!" And then realized I've seen Pedro Pascal in many of my favorite shows, (The Mentalist was watched for the sake of completion. After season 6 and the first episode of season 7, there wasn't a real reason to continue other than spending time with my mom. She's fine, when I tell people that they think she's passed on but the woman is still lifting 50 lbs mulch bags in her mid seventies. She more than fine.) I then became fixated on this man, reset the password on my AO3 account and found Pedro Pascal character fanfics. I was then led back to Tumblr which before I was on years ago for anime and read fics by @secretelephanttattoo ( I shall always sing about Headshots. It inspired the first fic I posted on Tumblr and is just so damn cute. El is also just a sweetheart.) and @morallyinept whose Tendrils fic only deepened my brain rot for that tall beskar bucket, she's also a dear friend who's made me laugh, cry in a good way, inspired me and very time I turn around she's crafting something new. Fics, banners, self-care, doodles, smut, databases, and all sorts of Pedro interviews and dialogue. Because I'm a fangirl of them both and many others actually, I keep 👀 on them.

What keeps me going is the fandom overall and that despite, recent tribulations let's say politely, we're all still here. Geeking out over a goofy, handsome, I know he gives the best hugs, actor who loves what he does and has been working at it for years and it's finally paying off.

I've met wonderful friends and moots who reach out, give me encouragement, tell me I do well (I'm starting to listen to them I swear. I'm not good at taking compliments in person so it's even worse online FYI.

So I hope this answers your ask and I do encourage you to write that weird, funny, smutty, cute, sweet, dark, twisty, angsty fic that you want to write. I do hope whoever you are, you tag me in it so I can read it. 🤭

Special love to the following and if I left anyone off, I'm sorry. It's after work, I rubbed my eyes, wipes my glasses because I got them wet while writing this and it was a lot:

@maggiemayhemnj @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @for-a-longlongtime @i-own-loki @undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere

@soft-girl-musings @perotovar @julesonrecord @lotusbxtch @604to647

@yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @fhatbhabiee @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @bitchwitch1981

@jessthebaker @avastrasposts @inept-the-magnificent @lady-bess @grogusmum

@schnarfer @boliv-jenta @iamskyereads @iamasaddie @chaithetics

@tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie @alltheglitterandtheroar @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl

@trulybetty @laurfilijames @wannab-urs @legendary-pink-dot @din-cognito

@sin-djarin @beefrobeefcal @spacecowboyhotch

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Dueteronomy 2:10 (The Mountain Goats)

In Costa Rica, in a burrow underground/Climb to the surface, blink my eyes and look around/I'm all alone here as I try my tiny song/Claim my place beneath the sky, but I won't be here for long

"It’s a simple, short, devastating song from the perspective of three now-extinct animals, each of whom are the last of their species and completely alone. As John Darnielle put it in 2015, “This is kind of a song about hopelessness, and, uh, and the long, steady contemplation thereof.”

Laid in Blood (The Mechanisms)

Her body lies in her wife's caress, her face is free of her life's distress/Wearing the rags of her wedding dress/Laid in blood when the battle has done...Their bodies are still and their blood is cold, the book is closed and the story told/No happy ever after for a tale so old/Laid in blood when the battle has done

"It's the last song on the album, wrapping up everything that happened. Except, everything that happened is tragic, because this is a tragedy, and Rose was attacked at her wedding and almost everyone there died, and then they cloned Rose (minus her memories) thousands of times to create an army. Cinders, her wife, and Snow, her sister, spent decades searching for her, but the moment Rose woke up and saw Snow, Snow was shot dead, and then Rose hugged Cinders and was immediately shot in the back. And then the closing lines, "no happy ever after for a tale so old" because they're right, it's been told time and time again and eventually the story has to end, doesn't it? Nothing can be happily ever after forever and eternity."

Poll runner: This was one of the first songs I listened to for this tournement... and yes, those mechanisms do be fucking you up. Especially if you like songs with stories in them. I've listened to it for fun since, many times.

Dueteronomy submitted by @all-our-exploring

Laid in Blood submitted by @ceaseless-rambler

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is just weird. Who would pay $15.888m for "The Garden of Eden" in St. Cloud, FL? It has an unfinished house made of cinderblock on 10 acres of land, so maybe the price is for the land. Look at this mess, though.

Take a closer look at the entrance to the property. The homemade gate is painted gold and two signs say "God is owner!" It has some architectural salvage balusters, and clear boxes w/fake roses on top of the pillars, for starters.

The vast wall has a work of classical art on each section.

A 2nd gate.

This is the unfinished house.

This is where it gets confusing. The address of the property is 2075 Rambler Ave. but 3077 Rambler Ave and 3079 Rambler are also included in this package. 3079 has multiple buildings.

I don't know what they're building here, but there's a water feature in the middle of this area. Someone hypothesized that it was a gator farm by the strength of the red cage.

Another house. Wonder what the interior is like. The tenants would probably want to stay, if there are, in fact, people living here.

Some sort of fruit tree and vegetation.

It's a lot of land, but is it worth it?

It sold for $373k in 2016, so the owner is delulu with this price. $1,583,600 Zestimate - so even Zillow thinks it's only worth $1.6m.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3075-Rambler-Ave-Saint-Cloud-FL-34772/46309319_zpid/?

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART II) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: you will forever be his fallen angel. his cherub. 

a note from Lucy: IT IS TIME! Now, I KNOWWWW i said that there woud be dp with tommy in part two...but that can wait until part three because this is just as disgusting as the last one hehehehe! Enjoy sinners, i'm off to bed. This is also unedited to just ignore any typos. I promise I’ll get round to reading it through later today. X

playlist | alternate banner by THE cherub @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

wc: 4088 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, porn with little plot, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his late 50s), Smut, car sex, very dubcon in theory but both parties want it, smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl), oral - m reeiving, handjobs, Creampie, choking, orgasm denial, slapping, dom!Joel:/sub!reader dynamic, gagging , mentions of gagging with panties, panty sniffing, nipple play, biting, Smoking, use of pet names (baby, cherub, angel, good girl...etc), Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile porn I have written thus far...with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, a circle lower than the last. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

Lace. Pretty. Delicate and intricate. 

Torn and tossed to grimy carpet. His trailer, his bed. Laying in his large warm arms for no more than a brief moment of afterglow. Then observed by his hawk eye while you were strewn naked about his sheets in a divine headrush of oxytocin, endorphins. And numb to all but the ghostly ache of pleasure within your belly.  

Truth can be ugly. It can beat and maim even the strongest of heart and half of soul. It can dampen spirits, bash, batter and bruise a hope so bright to such a degree it is nothing but a mere flickering flame, awaiting its snuffing out from a final exhale of a familiar broken heart. It can go pummeling, plundering and pillaging a love you held so tightly to your chest, that once was so dear to one’s self, the mere idea of letting it slip through your fingers would bring on an agonising loneliness even death's pain could not compete or match with. 

One night later was your time to face truth, the world fell dark again. The rain had subsided back to choking heat, summer’s final scorch before biting winter rolled in, icy and frostbitten on its heels. You were catatonic in bed from that day forward. Contemplated the end of it all. Then got up for work again when the sun peeked over aluminium trailer rooftops. All of this…just come back to your own bed again. 

You belong to the ground now. Your purple knees might as well be caked in dirt. Each of your hairs stood on end in protest to your shivers, vexatious and unforgiving. And choked sobs suffocated you, face red, raw, puffy and salty. Everything seemed to hurt. The sound of humanity seemed so far away from you now. Even the crackling of TV static in the next room over. Nothing felt quite real. It was just…dull. Exhaustion ached in your bones, sinking in deeper - bone marrow level deeper - after twenty-four hours of little to no rest. You bit down on your bottom lip and scrunched your eyes closed as your fingers and toes curled in and you writhed in emotional pain inside yourself. Physically you were still. A weight had pressed itself into your chest, digging at you and carving a hole through your sternum. Your teeth were now gritted as you let out strained whimpers muffled by the pillow. Desperate for some form of relief, you were clasping at your upper arms, clawing your flesh until red lines rose

No one knew. No one could know. they did not have to carry the idea that someone, who roamed the halls of your mind peacefully, passively, vacantly, now rampaged through those same corridors with an iron fist and a burning torch, setting you alight, leaving breadcrumb trails for ravens to pick at and fragments such as that of sharp, cutting mirror glass for you to piece together with no map or original picture but your own memory. You tumbled, spiralling into a world of ‘was it this?’ or ‘was it that?’. And the line between each question soon grew thinner, smearing together like streaks of sunlight smudging in tears. 

—

It was a slow roll of a shift. No one but the regulars on a quiet Monday morning. The bikers who stop for coffee. The business man here for the Bessy's Diner ‘premium’ breakfast before his day starts. Greasy and warm but with the crispy potatoes. Eggs sunny side up on two slices of golden brown white bloomer bread. The smell stuck in your hair. 

You watched through the window as the world turned dark under bruising night sky. His name on your tongue at the back of your teeth. His handprint on your thigh under your yellow polyester skirt. It was the branding of him on you in the most achingly beautiful way you could imagine. You might not be bent in half any more but in your mind you are replaying each thrust that edged you over the side of harrowing oblivion. You were in his bed. Right there. You could almost feel him.

The ding of the pass bell made you blink once, twice, thrice, with a sharp inhale through your nose while you tuned in a daze to collect a cheeseburger and curly fries. You weren't much to look at by your standards – grease stains on your uniform, scuffed shoes and bruised knees; But the man you delivered the meal too had you for his appetiser. Eyeing you like a juicy cut of rump steak, plump and tender to sink one's teeth into. Your nostrils flared and you couldn't help but wonder what Joel would think of his roaming eyes as you gave the trucker a curt but saccharine ‘Enjoy!’ through gritted teeth. 

Then it was back to staring out the window while more coffee brewed and the sky sunk deep blue, a rim of purple at the horizon. Like it had been beaten and left by the sun. Clouds murking the sky above like dried blots of ink. A heavy downpour to come and you hadn't bought your coat or umbrella. Headlights beamed through the window in the blue, sailing over your eyes and the wall behind you, making you strain and squint at the familiar number plate. 

That very truck had been parked in the middle of your trailer and his. Taunted you now whenever you saw it. Reminded you that he had not come calling since a few nights ago. How long was it now? A week of no contact that made you claw at your skin and the marrow of your very bones ache with the pain as they hollowed out. Waiting for him to fill that place in you again with a sense of being needed. The place only he knew how to reach. It was pathetic and you knew it. But, oh, how you'd fall to your knees in the dirt each time to just see him. To have him call you Cherub. It felt like a dream no one would get to see or feel but you and him. A secret whisper of delight that had a pending knot of tension tighten and twist in your gut. Then a flutter when his truck door opened to reveal him in his usual wife beater tank and dirty denim combo. This time a leather jacket straining over his broad shoulders. Your mouth watered at the sight of his bulge. How, when he stood with the devils own smirk at the sight of you through the window, arm slung over the top of the drivers door, the tank rode up to give a tease of happy trail on his softer tummy. He was a man who could ruin you with a look; Have you pleading to be his anything. 

He licked his lips at the promise of his meal. You. All you could do was stand with feet planted firmly to the floor in your frilly hemmed socks and patent mary janes. His picture of innocence dressed in a ditsy diner uniform. His eyes were dark and lit only by the inside glow. They snared you in ways you often found hard to elucidate to yourself. But you'd be a liar if you refused to admit the excitement your gaze held his with. The beaming toothy grin you shone at him as he walked through the entrance. A chilly gust of wind hot on his chunky book clad heels. 

“Be right with ya!” You called to him as you took the coffee from its hotplate, unable to keep yourself from smiling. He was here. You would once again be his. Whole. 

A girl could dream. Oh she can dream up to the clouds and pass the very sun. But, lord above, how calamity hits like a stone to a dove’s wing. Causing the fall to earth and the fire to consume. This time, Icarus waited for the night. Who knew Selene would give the same backhand as Apollo.

“No need.” He cleared his throat, ambling over in his swagger to slump over the counter against the bar stool. “Lookin’ awful happy, Cherub.” There it was. It had your eyes glazing over in a haze. The first man who gave you a reason. An ability to serve and care and be wanted. “Just happy ‘cause I'm seein’ you.” You sighed. His arms crossed over themselves on the counter and there was Lucifers smile to lull you closer.

“That so?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah.” It was ineffable to explain, really. The temptation. But it was so damn perfect you couldn't get enough of it.

“What time you get off then, Cherub?”

“Ten.” You replied instantly. A heat warmed your core. A fizzle of something, a cramping of a dull pleasure spasm in your belly. From there he leaned over, breath tickling your ear as his scuff scratched the shell of it. Made your pulse thrum under your skin. He could feel your supple warmth, noticed how your pretty round chest hitched at the feel of his words in your ear. He ogled you like a hunter would his prey. His next feast.

“Y’think you can help me get off?” 

If you had it your way you’d trace each scar, pale of almost rare silver, raised upon his skin. Gnarled. But so unmistakably beautiful it takes your breath away for a moment. Born again, the first breath you take. Learning how to inhale, familiarise yourself with how his chest rises, to then fall with tumble of the exhale. But this was on his terms. It would do. Ideally you'd do it your way. However, he wanted what he wanted. He took. You had so much more to give him if you were just gifted the miracle of opportunity. Jeopardising this love now would be a foolish idea. 

“Yes, Joel.” You whispered, though it caught in your throat a little. Joel pulled back to eye you. Chuckling at the sight of your open wide doe eyes. A pretty helpless fawn for him to scrape off the road after being crushed by a truck. Or a bird whose wings needed patching. Little did you know he wasn't mending your wings. Merely plucking feathers from them until you could no longer glide through skies. Only be dragged by him across the ground on a leash. Rubbing flesh raw to the point of bleeding.

“Then i’ll be waitin’ here for ya, Cherub.” 

—

He had his eyes on you the whole time. In his stare you saw each scene of what could be play out. What position he'd fix you in before the descent of his hips into yours. The slap of heavy balls against your ass. The ripple of your skin while a hand clapped down on one cheek, then the other. Rendering you useless for the rest of the night. Unable to walk without legs trembling. Poor pretty Bambi. Poor precious Cherub. 

You could feel the heat of his eyes lick up the back of your neck. Flushing bright colour into the apples of your cheeks. Each time you passed him, a silent glance from you. A primal, phallic stare from him. Cogs in his mind turning to see what scenario would take his fancy. The look from other customers didn't fall short on his attention. He noticed the way that trucker had eyed you upon giving him the bill. Jealousy curled in his gut because how dare another man so much as think about touching what is rightfully his. What you were so eager to please with. The plush of your breasts, the encompassing warmth of your slick wet cunt. Joel would remember that when you stumble home, his come dribbling down your leg in a thick, gluttonous rivulet. You, so ready to flay yourself open at his word and present all to him. Your broken ribs and beating heart. The blood that bled in vain for him. 

At the end of your shift he waited while you got you things from out back, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Thick fingers plucking one ready to light. 

“Can't smoke in here, Joel.” You pointed out as his lighter hissed under the roll of his thumb.

“Then hurry up ‘n let me get you outta here, Cherub.” He mumbled, eyes trained on the cigarette between his lips. You admired how the yellow hue of the lighter washed him a glow in brief flashes. The scruff on his jaw lighter. Greyer. Handsomer. 

“Okay.” 

He led you out with a hand to your back. Hoisted your bike into the bed of his truck and you had to hold your breath at the swell of his muscles under his leather jacket. Its dark shine scuffed and worn down. 

He drove you back downtown with the cigarette lit in his mouth to puff on, a hand on your clenching thigh, inching closer up to dangerous territory. He felt how you squirmed inside yourself. As if your bones were begging to be rattled by him. Until the highway bled off into smaller roads towards the trailer park where he opened the window to flick his smoke out and then shut it. You weren’t expecting him to pull over in a lay-by. The trees skeletal as leaves had started to fall here. 

The engine sputtered before shutting off with the twist of the key. You found yourself staring at your skirt, picking a loose thread from the hem of it before his finger hooked under your chin. Just like the first time. Still smelling of tobacco and something mustier. Something human. It was hard to see in the dark, but his shadow said it all. It was carved out by the backdrop of trees outside the window. It made a rattling burst of desire dart down your spine and fill the hollow slowburn in your womb. 

“Look at me.” So you did. And his finger grasped your chin, almost embedding his touch into your with trembling tingle were he to ever let go. Like a solder’s phantom limb.

“What are we doing here, Joel?” You asked, eyes innocent. Begging to be corrupted and crying. 

“Gettin’ me off, Cherub.”

His lips crushed yours like seeds of pomegranate. Chapped and split. The metallic taste of his blood on your tongue. Your lungs breathed him, absorbed him. What noise he gave you, nonsensical as it was, it was a relief there was something. Something you could do. Part your thighs.

While one hand stayed fastened to your chin in its vice grip, his other palmed himself through his jeans. Hips rolling into the heel of his hand and a groan departed from his chest heavily. One you happily consumed with a needy inhale. Desperate to feel something of him inside you. 

“Gonna make me feel good, ain’t you, Cherub? My pretty little thing.” 

It was hard to nod in his grip. But you managed with the aiding of a whimpering “Mhm!”

“‘M gonna let you feel it.”

The bulge in his jeans was straining at denim and suffocating him. You felt blindly for his erection, fumbling with the belt, button and zipper. Joel smirked into your mouth while his tongue trialled sloppily over your bottom lip, enclosing it between the prison of his gnashers. Biting down hard. The friction of his beard was coarse against the dichotomy of your soft, supple skin. 

“Yeah.” He sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat, detaching his lips from you. “Jus’ like that.” You swallowed. Aching to feel him. To have him as a part of you again. But for now you'd settle with the steady dragging stroke of his thick heavy cock in your hand. 

You watched him with curiosity, the way his eyes fluttered closed. It was more the way a child would observe a butterfly trapped in a jar. Even though he was anything but delicate. 

“Fuckin’ angel aint ya, Cherub?” He swallowed, hips twitching and bucking up into your hand while your thumb rolled over the sensitive head of his dick, smearing a bead of precum over the delicate flushed skin. You salivated like a rabid dog at the sight. The smell of his sex thick on your nose. 

You felt the curl of this large hand at the crown of your skull before he pushed you down. Pulling you with him to hell’s heat once more. 

“Suck it.” 

And you did willingly; Took him into the warm cavern of your mouth, swirling your tongue over the flushed red tip to have the heady taste of him thick on your tastebuds. His hips stuttered, meaning you had to hollow out your mouth and relax your throat to take him as far as he wanted. The ache in your oesophagus burned, bruising deliciously. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, heavy and wet and dripping over the threshold of your eyes, streaking clumpy mascara down your face like an abstract painting for him to smirk at later. His fingers twisted in your hair like brambles through hedgerows. His hands were being laid on you. More like beckoning you closer to being laid to rest in the dirt. Ready for that little death his anatomy promised. The lust between you heated the car, fogging windows slightly. 

As you went a little further, and little faster, nails digging into his jeans to ground yourself, you realised you’d never rather be anywhere than with him. Saliva running from your mouth down his shaft, collecting in a shine around the base and rolling over his tightening balls. He chuckled when you gagged, spluttering and heaving on him. Begging for more, you dared to ghost a single finger over your dripping slit. Cunt twitching at the attention. An action that was far from lost on him. 

“Did I tell ya you could touch yerself?” He hissed, ripping you from his cock as the heat of an orgasm started to bubble in his lower belly. You spluttered a no, holding your hands up in surrender to him. “Little minx.” He sneered.

You yelped at the grip on your thighs as he kicked your legs out from under you, tugging your underwear from your heat in one swift yank. He held the cotton up to his nose, taking a deep inhale. “Fuckin’ filthy. Just imagine what your uncle would think ‘bout this?  Ruining your fucking panties for me.” Shame flooded your gut, but the clench of your tight, drooling hole told you otherwise about disliking the thought. A heat warming your cheeks once more. “Oh, you like that dont you, Cherub?”

“Yeah.” You owned up to the fact. There was no point in lying. He’d fuck the truth out of you one way or another. 

With your hands still raised, you watched in fucked out awe of his tonge that darted out to taste your slick on your underwear. His eyes closed as he savoured the tang on his tongue. There was no need to commit it to memory. If he wanted it again all he need do was ask. Your legs would part open, panties in his hand again. 

“Taste like fuckin’ honey, Cherub. All sweet and sticky.” His voice verberated in your chest and his and had your eyes blurring in a split of a second. Crawling back once again to the memory in his trailer. “What do you think? Should I shove these in your mouth instead of my cock? Huh, Cherub?” You swallowed at the thought. “Nah…” He cast the thought aside, tossing them in the backseat. “I might just go easy on ya tonight.” 

That was a short lived promise, for he was sliding back his seat as far as it would go, dragging you into his lap, thick head prodding the weeping entrance of your cunt. Waiting deliciously for the stretch of him. Whole again. Make me whole again. You begged to the ears of your own mind. Please!

“Sit down.” He demanded. And you obeyed; Notching him between the slick lips of your pussy. He hands found grounding purchase on your hips, grinding you along the underside of his thick length. Smearing your juices over himself. Each time the tip so much as grazed your clit it had you whimpering his name. Had your brain scrambling to form a coherent sentence. It was sinful Disgusting. But the way it felt was enough to cast a shadow on those doubts. Turn out the light, and set them to temporary sleep in your head. 

The roll of your hips worked in tandem with the taboo buck of his thrusts. His neck strained and veins bulged under tight tension knotted, gnarled skin.

“This pussy’s made for this, ain't it, Cherub? Made for makin’ me feel good.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled while two thick fingers slipped into your mouth. The rough pads of them pressing into your tongue. You pressed your lips around them, taking his digits down to the last knuckle. His taste was rich in your mouth. One you'd never even dream of forgetting. 

Your humping got faster, more erratic and less careful. Big. Mistake. 

“Don’t go getting sloppy on me now, Cherub.”

You whined. It was all you were good for. All you could do. There was only so much finesse you could master with the steering wheel at your back, digging into your arching, aching spine. You waxed and waned over him in more careful movements now. Made sure to press down with each roll back over his shaft. All while he had an open mouthed trained gaze on the way his fingers slipped in and out of your mouth. Slow. Setting the pace for you to mimic. Lips puffy, saliva slick. 

From there, it was your dress. Greedy and heavy hands popping the buttons of it open and stripping you down to nothing but flesh. It crumpled around your waist. His lips pursed while suckling your nipples into his mouth until they were pert and erect on his tongue. Teeth sinking into tender flesh, jaw unhinged as he took a bite of their swell and mimicked it on the other side.

It was so bad. So, so, so bad. If there truly was a god you’d be signed over to hell. But you didn't care, how could you when you felt the burn in your belly of your orgasm. The stars sputtering over the backs of your closed lids in a hypnotic kaleidoscope image. Either way, you were damned. Icarus to Apollo’s heat. His heat was burning. Scalding. Making a sheen of thick, damp sweat accumulate over your skin. Chest heaving into his mouth while your back arched and held tight like the string of a bow ready to release.

“Fuck– please, Joel. Wanna– fuck– come. Wanna come!” You whined around his fingers. To which he replied by ripping them from your mouth and striking a heavy hand over your cheek. The sting was thrilling. It made the apples of your cheeks tingle, begging him to do it again. Abuse you in any way he saw fit because the pleasure burning, building in your core had your cunt clenching. Ready to let go at his given word. He bared his teats at you while he smeared his tongue and spit over your tits.

“No. You come when I say and only when I say.” 

And with those as his damning words, he lifted your hips off his, using a hand to line himself up with precision, spearing into you in one fowl swoop. You bit back a scream on your bottom lip from the intrusion. But before you could let the pain sink in it melted into brain fogging pleasure. You had to clench your walls around his thick length, his cock hot and pulsing within your cunt that spasmed with the promise to unwind. Had you a babbling crying mess in his lap while he jackhammered up into you. Balls slapping your spread cheeks. 

His palm closed around your pulse, the other in your hair as you held yourself just above him on trembling legs so he could have the room to thirst upwards, swollen cockhead nipping your cervix vigorously like the last time. Whatever broken thing inside you that made you yearn for this could rattle around within of you. It was nothing unless it got you here to the sheer pleasure you felt when in his unforgiving arms. You’d go easily like this. Tear stained cheeks as you babbled his name nonsensically. All for him to keep up the relentless pace of his hips. The coarse hairs at the base of his cock adding a friction to your twitching clit that wasn't needed. You were already on edge. God, how you lived for the little death.

“Please, sir!” If anything else you did didn't set him off, that did. The words sweetened by the whine that curled from the back of your throat and dripped into his ears like fine wine. High pitched needy for him to finish you off. Deliver the killing blow. 

The hand tangled in your hair jerked your head back, leaving your jaw to hang open and your eyes to roll back in your skull. Your toes curled in their frilly socks and shoes, the tingle turning to numbness and then to an overstimulated pain that you couldn't stave off any longer. 

“Gonna come ain ya, Cherub? After I’ve been so fuckin’ nice to ya. Let ya touch me. Feel me inside of ya.” He pressed a hand over your womb, feeling the bulge of himself each time he fucked up to meet that perfect spot inside you. “Feel me fuckin’ wrecking this cunt for anyone else?” And you nodded stupidly, finding it hard to breathe with his other hand still at your neck. He could feel the quickening of your pulse under your flesh. “Words, Cherub.” He growled with heat into your pulse. “Or have I fucked you dumb, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Yes, Joel, I'm yours! Yours yours yours!”

“The fucking come. Show me.” 

And finally, the closing scene to this act of sin. The little death you had been waiting for swelled within you, sending you falling from the stars in your eyes and back down to earth – crashing into the wall of his chest. A string of curses from his sneering lips and he released inside of you, balls tightening and dick twitching sheathed within you. His thick, hot come dribbled gluttonously from your quivering cunt. And you were twitching uncontrollably against him. 

Your chests heaved out of sync with each other. Him out, you in. You accommodated the invading rise of his chest with the crushing and concaving of your own. His cock softened inside of you and in the mess he had made of you cunt. You were well and truly wrecked for anyone but him. Your body, no matter how much you may come to hate this fact in future, belongs to his pleasure. 

You will forever be his fallen angel. His Cherub.

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Wednesday 28 June 2023

The fragrant double, salmon-pink flowers of Rosa 'Albertine' (rose) always look good against the soft tones of an old brick wall. This is a large and vigorous rambler rose with strong thorny, reddish stems and dark, glossy foliage.

Jill Raggett

[maoyeamh]

[jessamine-rose]

✿ Artifact Set: Beloved Darlings ✿

Read my I Love You, Darling series first!!

As y’all know, I became rlly fond of writing for the Yandere! Harbingers and their darlings……aaaand that’s how I ended up writing Artifact Sets for them. Each set features four stories, two for the darlings’ backstories + two fic epilogues. I hope you enjoy <3

Characters:: Capitano, Pantalone, Dottore, Pierro + their darlings

Tw:: YANDERE, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, mention of child abuse

Notes:: Female readers, fic spoilers

Capitano x Damsel:: Herbarium and Fairytale

✿ Discarded Doll

A broken princess doll. After numerous owners and stitches, the toy was left forgotten in the forest behind Mondstadt Orphanage.

Once upon a time, there lived a Damsel who was cursed by the gods.

Raised in an uncaring orphanage, her childhood was one of noise and solitude. In this liminal shelter, all companions were temporary and no belongings were private. And so the child gave up on those things, dreaming of the day she would be given a home to call her own.

Following her adoption, however, the Damsel’s new family revealed themselves to be cruel villains who took away her bright smiles and outspoken words. After days of torment, she was finally returned to her first prison, only to be silenced by her caretakers.

In the end, no hero came to save her. The Damsel waited for the day she became of age and was discarded once more.

✿ Overdue Library Book

A collection of fairytales borrowed from Mondstadt Library. The list of previous readers has been removed, and the front page is vandalized with the words “Property of ______.”

From the beginning, Mondstadt Library was her personal wonderland.

When she was an orphan, it offered a peaceful hobby. When she was a child of the Maiers, it provided a faraway refuge. It was natural for her to remain there as an adult, though it entailed the new task of maintaining the silence and sharing books with her once-fellow patrons.

It was literature which taught her the basic meanings of family, home, and love. When she tired of the false promises of fairytales, she turned to real stories only to be disillusioned with her inferior qualities. Her debilitating misfortune. Her unanswered prayers.

“Oh, I get it now. Love does exist. It’s just that the gods have deemed me unworthy of it.”

And so she escaped to her fairytales once more.

✿ Pressed Sumeru Roses

A preserved bouquet of violet rambler roses. Presently, the flowers are kept on display in the Captain’s bedchambers.

After their happy ending, the Damsel finally found a home in her Snezhnayan prison.

The Captain was protective throughout their honeymoon, but they left Sumeru in good spirits. Upon their return, a few tasks were accomplished before she could resume her normal routine.

Her belongings were unpacked and returned to their bedroom.

Her bookcase was reorganized to accommodate her new books from Sumeru.

Their bedroom was decorated with newly-pressed flowers, and her husband allowed it.

Lastly, she finally joined him in their bed. She’d missed that piece of furniture least of all.

After all, it was Capitano who blessed her slumber with warmth, and they shared the same bed in Sumeru.

“Ah, it’s good to be home.”

✿ Letter from a Devoted Knight

An envelope bearing the official seal of the Fatui. Delivered alongside the letter is a box of fresh flowers native to Natlan.

During the Captain’s latest mission, a Fatuus visited their home.

By then, the Damsel knew what their arrival meant. This time, they gave her both a letter and a wrapped gift.

The flora of Natlan was beautiful. She could only imagine the efforts taken to keep the flowers fresh for her hobby. If only Capitano was here to witness her smile.

As always, the letter was better than any book.

“My beloved flower, every day without you brings me grief. I could only imagine the smile on your face if you were able to view the flora of Natlan with me. My mission is far from over but once the Pyro Archon’s Gnosis is acquired, you shall be the first to hear of my return.”

“My lady, are you all right?” asked her guard.

“It’s nothing, Cyane.” She wiped her tears and continued reading. “Don’t bother me.”

It had only taken a few decades for her to meet her knight in shining armor. In comparison, what was a few more months before their happily ever after?

Pantalone x Kitty:: Housecat and Alea Iacta Est

⬩ Ornamental Comb

A bejeweled comb worn as a hair accessory. A few hairs are caught in the comb’s teeth, bearing a soft texture similar to cat fur.

She was born to a prestigious family, and this was where her luck began and ended.

Neither the firstborn nor the gifted child, she was the disappointment. Unnecessary, unexceptional, and therefore useless.

However, she had the same expectations of a child born into high society. All she had to do was to smile and play along with her family’s ruse, and that would be enough to validate her position. Never mind what she did in her free time, and for that she was satisfied.

In fashion, she found a genuine passion for aesthetics and history. A beautiful outfit was all it took to attract the attention of others.

In dance, she found an opportunity to participate in social events. Regardless, most interactions were on account of her family name.

Beyond the arts, she donned a mask of false serenity. But such details were of little consequence—who would ever come close enough to notice her cracks?

⬩ Smaragdus Jadeite Ring

A simple wedding ring with a square-shaped smaragdus jadeite in the center. The jewelry piece was left behind by its owner.

On her twentieth birthday, her family finally found a purpose for her.

Without her brother and friends in attendance, she easily surrendered to her parents’ commands. For what future lay in wait for a useless child stripped of wealth and prestige?

She didn’t cry when her family reacted to her Vision with anything but delight.

She didn’t cry when she accepted her wedding ring—a plain, impersonal decoration.

She didn’t cry when she realized the hollow nature of her engagement. If anything, she left the hotel and dissolved into bitter laughter.

“Why should I care? That is another marital duty off my back, isn’t it?”

“I feel like shopping. What shall I buy? A dress, necklaces, lots of rings…if he complains about my spending habits, I need only ask about his whereabouts tonight.”

“Yes, this is fine. Love—what a cruel word. In the end, it is just connections, agreements, people using one another. Since love does not exist, I shall simply settle for the next best thing.”

Yet no matter how much finery she indulged in, it was never enough to fill her heart.

⬩ Electro Crystal Collar

The favorite accessory of the Regrator’s wife. The collar matches the personal aesthetic of the Ninth Harbinger.

Her first sacrifice was made in the fashion district of Snezhnaya.

As the Regrator’s wife, she had to complement his image. Scandalous engagement aside, her husband’s reputation would be damaged if she was perceived as a tasteless foreigner.

The Snezhnayan outfits were so pretty. Her husband selected the perfect garments for her—a never-ending closet of dresses, jewelry, heels, perfumes—all in his signature colors.

The collar was her personal favorite. It was an intricate necklace commissioned just for her, the most valuable treasure of the Regrator.

Later on, she would resent that accessory and the pain it brought her.

But with time, she grew to appreciate her collar again. By then, there was no need to worry about her outfits clashing with her Vision.

⬩ Surrendered Pyro Vision

A Pyro Vision separated from its owner. The divine gift is currently in the Regrator’s possession.

Her memories suffered the brunt of the loss of her Vision.

The majority of her life could be remembered in clear detail. But in every instance where her divine gift was used, that was when her memories became hazy.

Fortunately, she had a loving husband who was willing to explain everything to her.

There was their first dance at the Shang family’s gala. Under the glittery stars, they had waltzed to a slow, lively orchestral arrangement.

There were numerous arguments split into blurry fragments. Only later would she realize how foolish she was in refusing to understand her husband’s concerns.

There was the accident which revealed the dangers of her own self. But it was through this catastrophe that she learned the extent of her husband’s kindness.

Love—what a beautiful truth. And now it finally belonged to her.

Dottore x Assistant:: Chemistry and Magnum Opus

♡ Drawing of a Nilotpala Lotus

A crayon drawing of a Nilotpala lotus. The picture is accompanied by a written description.

Since her youth, her only dream was to observe the world.

Her village was the perfect home for a budding researcher, teeming with all sorts of natural wonders and phenomena. The flora, the fauna, the daily sunrise—everything was there, just waiting to be discovered. Nature could not have produced a more ardent admirer.

It was this passion which drove her to enroll in the Sumeru Akademiya. On the day of her departure, she and her family exchanged bittersweet farewells. After all, who knew when they would see each other again?

That was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

The world was so beautiful, and she wanted to learn everything about it.

She had so many questions, and her curiosity could not accept a vague answer.

If only she knew the price for such knowledge.

♡ Scholar’s Journal

An old notebook belonging to a former scholar of the Sumeru Akademiya. The pages are full of written notes and coffee stains.

The Akademiya was where her dreams died out.

In this sea of knowledge, her great mind was put to the test. It was a race against other geniuses to manage the brutal workload and to prove one’s worth in the academe.

After her first month, her time was totally consumed by her studies. Rarely could she spare a few hours for her friends and hobbies.

After her first year, slumber became a scarce privilege. Her physical and mental processes suffered as a result.

After her first promotion, she had lost the passion essential to her research.

“All of my questions have been answered…what now? More lessons and theories to solve, I guess. It will all be worth it once I graduate.”

“Anatomy exam, botany presentation, thesis proposal…when will it end? I will need to postpone my personal research on the Nilotpala lotus again. Maybe coffee will help.”

“The world has become so dull. Perhaps I shouldn’t have searched for answers.”

♡ Syringe of Love and Dreams

A used syringe which serves as an ornament on the Doctor’s desk. The barrel holds the residue of a viscous gold chemical.

Over the centuries, a scholar rose to infamy in the Fatui. This individual was known as the Doctor’s assistant, his loyal supporter who stood by him in every inhumane experiment. One may doubt her allegiance to the Tsaritsa, but never her love for the Second Harbinger.

Many had speculated on the origins of their intimate relationship—and were swiftly punished for it. The price for such knowledge was a merciless death, whereas misinformation begot an increase in the Doctor’s test subjects.

Together, the couple made several discoveries regarding the truth of the Old World. Such advancements could have never been undertaken in the name of the Sumeru Akademiya, of which they had cut ties with.

To the world, they were the heretical Doctor and his fanatical Assistant. But behind closed doors, they were Zandik and ______ who shared their research, dreams, and secrets with one another.

♡ The Doctor’s Mask

A gray-and-white mask retrieved from Haeresys. The garment was used to conceal the wearer’s face, with the exception of cutouts for his eyes and right cheek.

The acquisition of the Electro and Dendro Gnoses was a triumph for the Fatui, but a tragedy for the Doctor’s Assistant.

After all, she was in the presence of his Segments when their lives were traded.

In the wake of their elimination, she rushed to her lover’s office and burst into tears when she found him in stable condition. Zandik was safe, unharmed, responsive to her embrace.

“Hey, Zandik, you’ll never leave me, right?”

“Oh? I believe I’d answered that question a long time ago. And this is no time for sorrow…unless you were more partial to my Segments than you cared to admit.”

“Still, each clone was a special version of you. And to think that the Dendro Archon rebuked their creation! Who knew how close-minded she could be?”

“Indeed, and the loss of my Segments will be strongly felt in the upcoming weeks. We have so much work to do while their positions are vacant.”

“Well, at least that means more time with you. That blasted Traveler…I swear, I won’t let them lay a hand on you, Zandik.”

“I could say the same for you, my dear.”

Pierro x Savior:: Disjecta Membra and Chess Piece

✧ Archon War Trophies

A pair of damaged weapons in the Fatui inventory. The equipment was discovered in an ancient temple, specifically a storage room for hunting traps.

In her long life, she had been called by many names. The God of Mist who provided a safe home for her followers. The All-Knowing One whose powers disabled secrecy and escape. The Starry One who had lost everything. █████, the beloved friend of her fellow gods.

It was during the Archon War that she gained her least favorite title, Death-Mist.

The carnage of the event would remain vivid in her memories. There was a ruined temple. A mangled body which burst into fire without any last words. Two ruthless gods who were slain in turn. Earth and flesh stained with her blood. The fear of several humans, including her own followers.

Perhaps that was the moment they began to lose faith in her.

It didn’t matter. It was her fault, anyway.

Only once revenge had been enacted did the loving god come back to her senses and move onwards.

“Oizys, Pasithea, are you all right? Those gods…they can’t hurt us anymore.”

“I’m sorry for not going with their option, Vesta. May you rest in peace.”

“My precious lambs, let us leave. It is time to find our new home.”

✧ Scattered Fragments

Pottery shards scattered across the floor of an ancient temple. Put together, the pieces form the shape of a dinner plate.

Her first observation of humanity birthed her talent for the culinary arts.

Hunger was such a curious sensation for living beings. It was this need for sustenance which led to many important patterns in daily life.

By hunting and gathering, one preserved the natural cycle of life and death.

In the kitchen, even a humble mortal could partake in creation.

At the dining table, everyone was equal.

“█████, isn’t this too much for two people? …Hey, it’s all right. We can eat the leftovers tomorrow.”

As the number of plates decreased from her table, so did the conversations. One day, the noise and her appetite disappeared entirely.

✧ Bloodstained Thurible

A silver Catalyst stained with blood. The powerful relic rests in the Jester’s private collection, kept under lock and key.

Their first act as a couple was to cook cream stew together.

“Pierro, were you always this slow at kitchen prep?”

“Might I remind you that I am still recovering from my injuries?”

“So am I. Just give me the knife and trade places with me.”

“I already said that you are forbidden from handling sharp objects.”

“Give me a break! Do you even know how to butcher a wild fowl?!”

Despite their quarrels, the couple felt closer than they had been in months. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of the activity or the god’s acceptance of her fate.

The cream stew turned out satisfactory. In the passing centuries, the dish frequently appeared on their dining table in Snezhnaya.

✧ Stellar Embroidery

A variety of garments embroidered with four-pointed stars. The clothes include a white necktie, a translucent veil, a small gown, and a baby’s blanket.

“Mother, we’re home!”

“Oh, Hecate? What time did you and Father arrive?”

“A few minutes ago. Don’t tell him that you know, but we bought a gift for you!”

“Aww, thank you! Did you have fun in the town square?”

“Yup! What are you sewing this time?”

“Just another Khaenri’ahn star. What do you think?”

“Hmm, it’s pretty but I like your other designs more.”

“In that case, do you have any suggestions for my next piece?”

“Can you sew snowflakes on my handkerchiefs? Oh, and Inteyvat flowers for this dress!”

“What a lovely idea. And would you like something to match with the twins?”

“Maybe. Are they—oh, Father, look what Mother made!”

“Welcome home, love.”

♡

After two months, I finally remembered this WIP lol. I just want to say thank you again to everyone who enjoyed my fics. Your support truly means the world to me!! And how could I not give a shoutout to my bestie @diodellet for once again indulging my brainrot and proofreading my nonsense?? (*´∇｀*)

Tag a Harbinger/ Darling enjoyer!! @oofasleep @leftdestiny-posts @nicebonescomrades @thescribeoflostmemories @surveyycorps @gum-iie @yanmaresu @bonknigirlinthehood @melody3cherryblossom @lazyroseart @harmonysanreads @kocherry @moarar @lcveaesop