#lavender picker

[floral-art-prints]

Lavender Picker, Abbaye Senanque, Provence by Trevor Neal (oil on canvas)

[lackablazeical]

[Part 1 - Joel / Part 2 - Joey]

I'm on a fuckn ROLL babey

I didn't actually watch Katherine's playthru, I just used a wheel picker to decide who to do next LMAO but I'm sure she was lovely to watch, I loved her parts in the plot and in Joel's challenge vids (also I believe she was in some of Gems vids and I did watch Gems so)

Basically I wanted to kinda combine wedding vibes as well as like. A wine lover, like the vibe of a field of lavender and grapes. Her only warm color is her skin, it makes her look very warm and alive in contrast :]

For the dress I just aimed to make it look plant-y, like it was falling down around her and stuff. But she has inorganic parts around, with the gems and metal, which add a bit of contrast and mystique

The crystal heart of hers also foreshadows how she's a homunculus for the Overgrown, but that's also my explanation for how she respawns :] idk I just love her a lot she's very pretty <333

Also if u want the speed paint, it's again under the cut ⬇️⬇️⬇️ tried a new coloring technique and I like how it came out :]

[sunriseabram-death]

do u have any other Mary hcs? I love the idea that she loved fruit just like Neil 😭

OH MY GOD YES. thank you for asking (a few of these are gonna be neil and mary focused)

chronic nail picker. another trait she passed down to neil. they had to keep grabbing each other's hands to stop the other from doing it

played the piano

she would change every detail about herself except her perfume. always smelled like incense and lavender (it was the same perfume her mom wore)

had a few miscarriages before neil was born (and then on top of that neil was born premature). one of her nicknames for him when he was small was just "gift"

shellfish allergy. would occasionally forget about it

slept with shoes on

got shot in the knee about 3 years into being on the run and had a limp for the rest of her time

moles! beauty marks!

gorgeous dark curly hair. used to wear a lot of half braided crowns when she was younger.

most intimidatingly beautiful woman you'd ever seen

her favorite animals were foxes

liked to read classic literature when she had free time

this is partly cause of a fic @skullcaidd wrote but I imagine her as russian in my head. maybe the hatfords were an old russian mob family that moved to England. (neil has no memory of her speaking russian outside of like 2 lullabies and when she dropped a pot on her foot when he was 14)

(this is canon thought a lot of people forget it) she was generally a patient person. unless she felt like their lives were at risk in the moment she'd let neil figure it out himself

could not parallel park

sharpshooter! best person with a gun you've ever seen

hummed in her sleep sometimes

[peppershark]

WOLFER --- The real California history behind the Tomione Fic

Convict Lake Camp (OwensValleyHistory.com)

When I was a kid, my family frequently visited Bishop, California. I can still feel the light-headed enchantment of hopping out of the van at a relative's green, creek-watered ranch shadowed by towering granite faces of the High Sierras. The dusty road and sage-sharp aroma propelled my imagination two hundred years into the past.

Wolfer is set in 1890 Bishop Creek, and while some of the location names are changed to fit the story, the town really had ranching barons like the Sacred 28 families, churches which exerted certain levels of social power with the well-to-do folk, boarding houses for mill workers and on-farm worker housing for fruit pickers and cowboys--or perhaps the odd wolfer.

It's amazing what you can dig up when you're procrastinating working on your WIP, lol. I did a lot of initial research while writing a Gingerrose fic set in post Civil War Bishop Creek.

Here are some things I found.

Main Street, Bishop Creek 1880 (OwensValleyHistory.com)

In Chapter 1, Tom rides down Main Street to the marshal's office (played by a grudging Severus Snape) and runs into Hermione.

Way off into the upper right you can see the steeple of the First Baptist Church on Main Street.

East Line Street, Bishop Creek (OwensValleyHistory.com)

Tom chases Hermione to Line Street, where he pushes her up against the Brown's Machine Shed, which is of course re-named to fit Lavender Brown's family.

(OwensValleyHistory.com)

Check out that snow! Sitting at 4,000 feet of elevation in the foothills of the East Sierras, the snow can get quite voluminous.

W.D. Roberts Ranch, Round Valley (OwensValleyHistory.com)

The ranch near the dry saltbeds of Owens Lake where Draco visits Harry, (by way of Mad Eye Moody) might have looked like this.

Cerro Gordo photo taken some time between 1871 - 1879 (OwensValleyHistory.com

We get a brief glimpse of the Cerro Gordo silver mine when Draco and Harry ride off into the sunset together for a night of wild debauchery. The brothels and bawdy houses within these sprawling mining towns would have perhaps been some of the only public places for late 19th-century gays to be themselves. Miss Lola's was among the more famous, and I'm struggling to find the website where I originally learned this this but I believe she hosted queer sex workers and provided space for an early LGBTQ+ scene.

The silver mine itself brought together a richly diverse group of fortune seekers. I accessed California census documents and found that while Bishop Creek was mostly white, Cerro Gordo had a much more diverse population (interestingly all marked with 'I', even Latinx names).

I did a phone interview with the Inyo Historical Society and chatted for an hour with a local historian, telling him I was getting context for a novel. (He didn't need to know that my novel was also a fanfic, hahaha.) The historian told me the mine had Mexican, Black, Chinese, and Indigenous populations working as miners, teamsters (people who drive wagons), cooks, brick masons, farm laborers and all kinds of interesting jobs related to running the mine.

Main Street in Bishop Creek, 1878 (OwensValleyHistory.com

One thing that sticks out in my mind from the conversation with the historian is how the white and Mexican ranchers demolished the irrigation canals the Numuu Indigenous tribes had dug to create a green landscape in Owens Valley. Native Americans have been 'farming' America's landscape for thousands of years in a low-impact way. In Chapter 4, Tom muses on this detail as he's setting a wolf trap on Rosier's ranch.

Perhaps the most illuminating account of the region comes from Sarah Winnemucca, daughter of Chief Truckee (after whom the town is named). Sarah travelled as an advocate for Indigenous rights and cataloged her experience and the story of white settler colonization in her book, Life Among the Pauites: Their Wrongs and Claims which you can read for free here.

Thank you for diving into California history with me!

Read Wolfer here.

[harrykim]

had a weird dream where they completely changed up tumblr and got so mad i woke up bc:

1) every post had in built 'fact check' but not like community notes it would put an ugly yellow highlight over any 'unsubstantiated claim' including things like 'i like water' and would put lines through any swears so you could only read them if you hovered over the text

2) you could now change the background colour of ur dash using a colour picker but it woulnt let you set text and post colour so it would automatically pick one it liked like if you wanted a lavender background it made all post backgrounds black with yellow text (yes this conflicted badly with the fact check highlight)

3) all still pictures were now 'animated' like those horribly motion album covers on like apple music/spotify

4) they introduced secret posts only people you specified could see and it would notif you if you were specified but people you've blocked could put you on posts to so it just became subtle harassment

[snowangeldotmp3]

'to the market'

(hello again, this is from another prompt requested by @fishwear ! i challenged myself to do all three prompts, so here's another! sorry it took so long heh, but i hope you enjoy, and thanks again for the prompt!)

32. markets x ronance - they go antiquing. nancy is obsessed with trying to hunt down valuables. she’s got her little antique pocket guide in her hands furiously checking stamps on china sets. meanwhile robin is having the time of her life to track down the ugliest, kitsch trinket in the whole store so she can annoy (amuse) nancy by displaying it proudly in their living room.

Robin was not a stranger to the many multitudes of Nancy Wheeler. After everything, nothing really surprised her about Nancy. Priss and a massive nerd. Badass and made Robin get rid of the spiders. Gorgeous and a gunslinger.

Serious Antiquing Nancy Wheeler, though, was something Robin can safely say she never expected.

Though it was quickly becoming her favorite.

It was adorable, the way Nancy was so passionate about it. And Robin had to admit, it was kind of fun.

(Mostly because Robin enjoys finding the most radioactive item in the antique store, keeping her own record of whatever she finds—Nancy refuses to let her bring it home—but that’s not the important part.)

What is important, is that Robin can say without a doubt, that antique malls were Nancy Wheeler’s favorite place in the world.

And specifically, the antique mall that was closest to their apartment. They’d been all over Boston, but nothing came close to this one. It was enormous, and Robin often found it hard to keep up with Nancy, who always had an open edition of Picker’s Pocket Guide and meticulously searched through every antique tea cup she could find. Robin’s job was usually to either hold Nancy’s guidebook, or use the black-light flashlight to search for radioactivity.

Which is the case for today. Nancy’s got her eye on another antique tea set, one that she’s been hunting for months now, bound and determined to find the damn things if it’s the last thing she does.

The stalls have changed since the last time they’d been there, new antiques (which is Robin’s favorite oxymoron now) from countless vendors all trying to get rid of all their old junk. Everything from dolls (creepy with a capital C) to paintings, old comics, and small clocks that Robin knows without a doubt have radium painted on the dial.

She is thankful, too, that it’s at least warm inside. The cold in Boston decided to have an extra bite to it today, and Robin maintains that they should’ve stopped for hot cocoa.

Nancy’s got her guidebook opened to the page she needs, hair tied up in a messy bun, bag thrown over her shoulder, and, most surprisingly, her glasses perched on her nose. It’s adorable. Nancy’s face scrunches up in thought, tongue darting out as she frantically writes something down in her book. She looks like a librarian, turtleneck under her lavender Emerson sweater and long skirt with pockets (Nancy’s favorite). She’s even tied her hair up with a matching lavender scrunchie.

Believe it or not, this is Nancy’s most casual look. She rarely wears her glasses out, but desperate times and all.

(It’s Robin’s favorite look. She only ever sees her this relaxed at home, and Robin’s mentally kicking herself for not bringing her Polaroid to get a picture of Nancy like this, in her element. Maybe some other time.)

“So,” Robin says, walking a half step behind Nancy to the first stall, “what teacup are we looking for? Is it even a teacup? Or is it another saucer?”

Nancy rolls her eyes as they find the wall of fine china. She searches for something in her tote, pushing her glasses up as they slide down her nose. “It’s a teacup this time, Robbie, I promise.” Nancy fishes a pen out of her bag, and then hands the book and pen to Robin with a small smile. “Hold this while I check the stamps on these? Please?”

And well, Robin can’t tell her ‘no’ when she’s got that spark in her eyes and that small, almost shy, smile.

Robin hums, tapping Nancy’s pen against her chin. “Well, I guess… since you asked so nicely.”

Nancy’s grin widens, stepping closer to give Robin a quick peck on her cheek. “Thank you,” she singsongs.

Robins rolls her eyes fondly as her face reddens. “Yeah, yeah. Anything for you, Nance.”

***

She should’ve expected that they’d be here all day. After all, Nancy was on a mission, and if it’s one thing Robin’s learned about being with Nancy, once she’s on a mission, she’s practically unstoppable.

Nancy had, after about an hour, released Robin to look at whatever she wanted, while Nancy continued to look at near-identical teacups. Though, Robin would’ve gladly stood there for another hour or two while Nancy searched for this mysterious cup.

Robin strolls down the stretch of stalls that are behind glass. Glassware, all with a faint greenish tint. Bingo.

Robin grabs the black-light from her jacket pocket, flicking it on and pointing it to the various bowls and vases, beaming the moment the stall lights up like a Christmas tree.

She steps closer, face close to the glass, but not too close. All this uranium glass in one spot is enough to create a hotspot.

One item in particular glows brighter than the others; a small bedside clock, shining a specific shade of radium green and for a moment, she really wishes Dustin were here with his Geiger counter, just to see how radioactive it is.

If Robin had to guess, the answer would be: extremely, given how bright the green is compared to the others.

She takes a cautious step back, away from the radioactive hotspot, taking out her own small notebook and jotting down the antique clock in her version of Nancy’s pocket guide and writes: Clock, Westclox, Big Ben. Radium. January 1989. Extremely radioactive.

Putting her notebook, pencil, and flashlight back into her pocket, Robin continues her stroll around the giant antique mall.

And then she spots it.

Like a cartoon, the clouds disappear just enough; the sun shining down on it, revealing itself in a holy light.

A stuffed opossum, wearing tiny sunglasses, holding a guitar in his tiny opossum paws.

Robin strides over to it and snatches it up, racing back to Nancy.

Nancy bumps into her halfway, eyebrows raised at Robin’s excited demeanor.

“Oh, hey Nance,” Robin says, a little out of breath, “didn’t see you there.” She shifts from foot to foot unconsciously, holding the stuffed opossum behind her back.

Nancy folds her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. “What do you have?”

Robin smiles. Nancy does not. Robin shows her the taxidermied opossum. “Nance, we have to take him home.”

“Absolutely not,” Nancy says, making a face. “Where would we even put him? The living room? The bedroom? I’m not sleeping in the same room as that.” She points at it, face twisted in disgust.

Robin pouts, if only a little, to make a point. “Please, Nance?” She begs, watching Nancy’s resolve crack, if only for a second. “I’ve already named him. Plus, I know the perfect spot for him! You won’t have to worry about him in our room, pinkie swear.”

Nancy’s face softens, another crack in her resolve, and Robin knows she’s won. Nancy huffs, pinching her the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But only if you help me look for this stupid cup again.”

“Deal,” Robin beams, “thank you, Nance,” she mimics Nancy’s singsong voice from earlier. She leans down, planting a kiss to Nancy’s cheek, reveling in the way pink dusts across her cheekbones.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy mutters, taking Robin’s free hand and intertwining it with her own. “Anything for you, Rob.”

***

“It’s perfect!”

“It’s hideous.”

Robin gasps, “He is not! He’s charming. He brings the room together!”

“I still can’t believe I let you bring that thing into our apartment.” Nancy wrinkles her nose, leaning further into Robin as they sit on the couch, sipping hot cocoa and taking in the marvel that is the guitar playing opossum in their living room.

“Believe it, babe. Besides, if not for me and Franklin here, you wouldn’t have found your precious cup.” Robin nods to the teacup, now preciously displayed on one of Nancy’s shelves, and crosses her arms, grinning smugly at Nancy,

Nancy rolls her eyes, lightly swatting Robin’s chest. “Shut up, Buckley.”

“Make me, Wheeler,” she teases, poking at Nancy’s shoulder. “I’d do it again, though. Help you get your special cups, it’s just so cute. I’ve seen you run a gaggle of newspaper nerds before, but I don’t know Nance, I think you could make it as a professional antique collector.” Robin pauses, considering, “Is that even a real thing? It could be. You could be the first.”

Nancy giggles into her cocoa. “I’m glad you say that, actually, Robbie, because there’s this one teacup that would match this one really well and I think—”

Robin groans, unable to think about fine china any more than she already has, but she meant what she said. She’d do it again. Just to see that brilliant look on Nancy’s face.

[balkanikabg]

I downloaded the bubble tea addon for the hot carob machine. When I get the recipe picker for the bubble tea menu, some of the flavors are missing optional ingredients. Where can I find ingredients for lavender, pea flower, vanilla, and matcha?

Hi, sorry for the late response! For the Vanilla and Matcha, I used SCCO tags, so to be able to appear in the menu you should have SCCO installed, like this, any custom item by multiple modders that has the required SCCO tag can be used as an ingredient. For the lavender and pea flower, I used the EA flower tag so, any flower in the inventory should be available to use as an ingredient. Sorry for the misunderstanding, I updated this info on the description page as well. I hope that's helpful!

[himikochan]

as there was interest in my last knitting clip- here's another!

please excuse the audio haha I'm bingeing GBBO and do not know how to remove the sound (^_^'''')

Instead of having my working yarn looped around my fingers, it’s held between my middle and pointer fingers on my left hand backwards and across my middle finger mail. Also, I use my right thumb to guide and pull the stitches on my needles

so that is my normal technique but I work a little differently for two color/stranded knitting

My right hand technique stays the same: on my left hand, I loop my yarn around my pointer and middle fingers with the color I want dominant in front. There's some science behind this and how your tension changes by having one color in front versus another, but because most of my stitches are lavender and I want my dots to 'pop' I am holding my contrasting yarn in front/my pointer finger.

HOWEVER- because I am picker (continental) versus thrower (English) this messes with my gauge and generally leads to a looser tension. My front color is worked like how I normally work it but my back color must be manipulated farther to be worked as a stitch. So when I am doing my stranded rows, I size down 2 needles sizes. This gets a little annoying for patterns like this where there's 2 stranded rows and 1 solid row, but it works for me :)

[zeynepsadik]

.*･｡ﾟ ━ ( melisa asli pamuk / cis woman / she/her) i think i just saw ZEYNEP SADIK on the subway.  the TWENTY-NINE year old PUBLICIST has been living on cornelia street for FOUR YEARS. zeynep’s friends know her to be perspicacious , zealous  &  vivacious , but she has a reputation on cornelia street for being devious , mercurial  &  imprudent. when i see zeynep , i can’t help but think of the well-planned coverup of a scandal , perfectly tailored designer clothing  &  the almost overwhelming need to protect a good thing  !  in  fact , i sometimes i think i hear LAVENDER HAZE when i see her walk by-

zeynep ayla sadik, just consider her cornelia street's tree paine.

bisexual.

born september 13, 1993 - we love virgos around here, okay?

the only child of the now former chairman and ceo of sony music and a one-hit-wonder pop star.

was really just faced with opulence and excess from the moment she was born. her silver spoon was probably diamond encrusted.

had the perks of a ridiculously wealthy father - her favorite popstar performed at her sweet sixteen, she had the nicest clothes, and the best vacations. she got into any event, party and club she wanted to.

but it wasn't all louboutins and good vibes. image was always very, very important to her father and he had no issue telling her exactly what she should be doing and made sure she did it.

she liked lacrosse growing up, but he wanted her to play tennis - she could do that at the country club and impress his friends. she preferred theater, he had her join the choir and take voice lessons. god forbid his daughter couldn't hold a note.

growing up, she never really felt like her own person, more just an extension of her father.

the first time she really felt like an individual was when it was time for college. she didn't just choose the school - columbia - but also her major - communications. standard for most, but a big deal for her.

it probably helped, though, that she knew what she wanted to do at that point. actual fame held little appeal to her, but she was fascinated by the business side. she'd see starlets - either friends she made or those contracted to sony - commit some debaucherous act right in front of her eyes. the next day, it'd be covered up entirely, twisted in the press or distracted from by some careful planned pap shots or a puff piece. she thought that was genius and wanted to be a publicist from then on out.

she was always a little sneaky and a step ahead of others, might as well make a career out of it.

freshly graduated, her dad pulled some strings to get her a job at a prestigious pr firm, giving her access to clients at a level most new hires never get the chance to represent.

so, yeah, nepotism got her in the door but she is really fucking good at her job. she's not afraid to play dirty (in fact, she thinks that's kinda fun), she has sources with people and tmz for all your puff piece needs, and has a knack for always knowing when a pap walk or publicity stunt is needed.

she's really managed to build a reputation of her own and her career is a great source of joy for her.

tbh, it's amazing to see someone so professionally successful and seemingly put together have such a messy personal life.

it's been one heartbreak after another for zey and she'd be hard-pressed to tell you exactly why. okay, sure, some of them were doomed from the start, obviously poorly matched paramours zeynep pursued in a kinda (totally) childish urge to rebel after her overbearing father criticized them.

but the rest? beats zey. she'd say she just has a broken picker, an issue no fault of her own and one that just can't be fixed. her friends would probably tell you that she's too impulsive when it comes to relationships, she feels that spark and is just ready to jump right in.

whatever the reason, no matter how meant to be she thinks they are, whether it's in two months or two years - it ends. and that's exactly why she wants to protect this new relationship she's in.

things feel good, really, really good and she's determined to shield this love from her less-than-charming family (especially the father who never approves of her partners), well-meaning but judgey friends, the stresses of the job and just the rest of the world. she doesn't want anything to taint it.

deep down, way down, zeynep realizes that's not exactly logical or realistic. they're gonna have to face the real world eventually. but she's also cool with just staying in that honeymoon phase for as long as they can and, honestly, doesn't have much of an idea or plan for how things will work once that ends.

wanted connections

romance is not dead if you keep it just yours aka muse b in lavender haze. the new love zey is so desperate to protect, she's all in on this.

it's nice to have a friend aka the besties. give me the fun, wild friends she can have a night out with but also the protective, logical ones who roll their eyes whenever she says 'it's different this time'.

i know i make the same mistakes every time aka the exes. zeynep has a history of failed relationships so a few of these would make sense.

clients. whether a public figure or a corporation, zey would be a great asset to have on the team.

anything and everything. she's a lifelong new yorker so there's plenty of time for run-ins, neighbors, former classmates, whatever.

[gabetheunknown]

I was tagged by @tellhound thank you so much! 💛

Your Name: Gabe!

where in the world are you?: almost in the middle of the Netherlands

your favorite color: Yellow

a song that always puts you in a good mood:

your favorite flower: I looooove lavender!

it’s a beautiful sunny day and you’re going on a picnic with friends. what snack are you bringing to share?: Home made scones with cream and home made jam <3

bumblebees or butterflies?: Bumblebees. They're just so clumsy and soft looking

describe your ideal weather: Perfect for walking on flipflops. Not too sweaty and humid, but warm enough to go outside without a coat

what are you reading right now?: The Witcher Blood of Elves

museum date or nature walk?: Nature walk 🍁

it’s movie night in the park and your turn to choose, what are we watching?: I'm so bad at picking movies ;v; I'd probably pick an animated movie, or something really stupid. My boyfriend is the movie picker in this house

and finally, share some sunny words for your friends & followers: Drink lots of water and grant yourself the time to do what you're doing, be kind to yourself 💛 You' can do this

No pressure tags: @books-andcoffee @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky @didelidocus @mimi-mindless and anyone else who wants to do this <3

[skekdris]

YCH from Fortunatafox!

I love how this piece came out for my Arhulian! Oh how it captures the otherworldly, eldritch visage they have. I'm grateful that Fortunatafox brought them to life! My favorite aspects are how the eyes and ears came out. For the eyes: The depth of shading is incredible. Like spheres of ink, contrasted by the lavender irises glowing with psionic power. And the ears, I love their shape. Distinct and interesting from regular triangular ears, but not overly complicated. I want to pet them so much! In addition, I like how one can tell this is a well-fed Arhulian with how you can see the folds of their husky frame. Muscular and fat all at once! Also, the fog and composition is just breathtaking. Now that my gushing is over, on to the vignette I wrote for this piece. Arhulians are not malevolent beings, but they definitely can be spooky.

There lay a vast region seemingly untouched by civilization, it has since come to be known as the ‘Disappearing Forest.’ People would enter, and more often than not, just vanish without a trace. More mysteriously, those people would return days, weeks, and even months later like nothing had happened, the vanished themselves not recognizing how much time had elapsed until their return to friends and family who thought they had perished. The vanished do not remember much of their time absent beyond the vague details of strange sensations and bizarre dreams. Though for some, their accounts are far more specific. Tales of a huge monster “covered in legs and eyes” that “wanted their soul” and “ate them alive.” These were dismissed as hallucinations from their ordeal at best, or preposterous ramblings of madness at worst. After all, if they were eaten alive, how could they be there to tell of it? Nonetheless, the forest was deemed too dangerous, and better left to the wilds. Of course, the ‘maddened ramblings’ of the vanished were much closer to the truth than either side realized. This forest belonged to the Arhulians - otherworldly creatures of psionic prowess. The Arhulians know all too well of their demanding hunger, and have turned into fierce groundskeepers of their land, driving out competitors that would upset the balance of their hunting grounds. But mere food is not the only way an Arhulian can feed, they can ingest a live creature and host them inside their belly, nourishing themselves from the mental energy of their captured prey - who often experience a dizzied mind and foggy dreams as a side effect of this feeding. This was considered a humane method of dealing with a troublesome ‘minded one’ by the Arhulians. On a particular autumn, a mushroom picker ventured into the Disappearing Forest. Its unspoiled land yielded mushroom harvests of incredible volume and quality. An Arhulian with their extraordinary psionic sense, saw the aura of a ‘minded one’ through the foliage as if it was clear as air itself. They stalked the interloper, gauging their intent. Unlike usual quarry, he had no weapons. They were not a hunter - not of any animal at the least. They picked mushrooms. The Arhulian was curious, and silently followed the mushroom picker like dark shadow in the autumn twilight throughout the days. The Arhulian saw the expertise, precision, and care the mushroom picker had for the land, treating each find like a gift from nature that was happy to be found rather than a mere resource to be mindlessly harvested. The Arhulian respected this minded one, even growing a fondness for the man. 

One autumn day, they quietly scuttled as close as they dared - close enough to reach out and touch him, but ultimately could not bring themselves to make contact. Would they scare off this minded one and never see them again? They wanted to speak, yet the Arhulian watched as the mushroom picker collected his fill. He was happy. Most contact with minded ones ended with terror or futile violence. The Arhulian did not want to deprive the man of his serenity, and risk having to turn him into a squirming prisoner of the belly like all the others before. They simply watched from the shadows, if the mushroom picker turned around and gazed upon their Arhulian visage, so be it.

This, of course, went all unseen by the mushroom picker, him not knowing the legends were less myth than he imagined, and that the very real monsters that lurked in the shadows allowed him to tread freely and without disturbance with their silent grace.

[sugarakis-p2]

Shigaraki's New Mate

You're a poor village girl sent to a far away land that crosses a evil forest, were Mothmen live. Rumors are going around the monsters have a new king and he is looking for a mate.

Warning: graphic violence, nudity, and a dash of smut

Chapter 1

Gravel crunched under the wheels of the carriage. It was hard to call it a carriage. More of a long wagon with a thin cover of a canvas tent on top. The night was crisp and unforgiving. Many of the dirty travelers huddled together for warmth aside from there being no room. The smell of body odor was cloying, making it hard to sleep as everybody jostled with every bump.

You were just glad there were no children or babies on this trip. It was so much worse with the wailing and the added shit smell. There was already enough of that. You wish you did not have to make this trip, but your village was hit with famine. Your eldest brother had come to you a fortnight ago in the fields and told you that you were no longer a child. You must either make your own way or have the decency to find a husband. He handed you a ticket to the Arguer Providence and a sack of potatoes.

“May I take my book?” You had asked tentatively. Your brother sadly shook his head no. “Had to sell it for the fare. I know it’s not much, but you have always been the smart one, with the reading and the writing. In Arguer, you can find work, send some home for our younger siblings and sickly Pa. I must send Imogene by foot to Land Sedge. I think I can keep the rest fed with two fewer mouths. Now say your goodbyes. You leave today.” It’s true. It could have been worse for you, although this was pretty bad. Arguer is a rich land begging for workers and single maidens. It’s said to be paved with gold. Anyone from the slowest porter to the handless garbage picker could live like a king. The only catch. The forests that surround Arguer dwell ancient and evil monsters. Foul things that lived underground, hidden in caves, nest in trees, and slumber in cool pools of water.

Passing through was almost a death sentence, one had to be desperate or stupid to head to Arguer. You were dozing, dreaming about chocolate. You have never had chocolate and you were determined with your first wage you will treat yourself. A rich city like Arguer should have chocolate. “Whoa!” The coachman called. People were waking now trying to see what the fuss was about. Everyone on edge, they were only a quarter of the way through the deadly forest. “What’s going on?” someone whispered in the dark. Another voice in the darkness replied hoarsely. “The main road is blocked…..we are going to have to detour, not safe to stay still in the dark.” Hushed whispers of panic were rising.

“Quiet everyone!” A voice hissed. For an eternity everyone sat in silence, hearts pounding against their rib cage, everyone wanted to escape. There were faint prayers in the air. When an answer finally came. They would be detoured through Mothmen territory. Prayers double and some sobbed. You sat there dumbfounded, you have never heard of Mothmen. Someone took it upon themselves to correct your reaction. One of the pale girls who sat near managed to look ghost white as she took this task on herself.

“You have never heard of Mothmen. They have glowing red eyes. They have moth wings, insect-like creatures that hunt at night. If they are not mating you they are eating human flesh. They have breeding cycles for new broods. The ones that mate with humans look more human. They kill off a large portion of the females because most are horribly deformed and would not survive long, so they take female humans. Many have powers of bad omen and premonition.” Someone else in the dark chimed in.

“Not all, their new king can crumble a man with just a touch. Heard he looking for a mate.” “All need to shut up, here scrub yourself in lavender, make it harder for them scent ya.” There was shuffling as the lavender was passed around and scrubbed on clothing. You pass on it. Lavender made you itch. It was hard to imagine it could cover up the stench of fear and shit. Everyone stayed as quiet as they could as the carriage bumped along a rougher road. An owl hooted followed by its kin. The hooting increased, escalating into unknown numbers. Suddenly the carriage was bombarded with inhuman screeching, then screaming. Someone shouted 'run', the carriage became a stampede of limbs trying to escape. The crunching of human bones under panicked human feet.

You jump over the canvas edge, landing in something wet. It was too dark to tell what is bogging you down. A foot away something pale with glowing red eyes hissed as it tore a man's head off. Hot blood splashing over you. Even in the dark, you can hear screaming as men are dropped from the sky, landing nearby with horrible crunches and splats. Heart slamming in your chest as you panic. You turned to run but your skirts were weight down by muck and gore. You tear at the fabric, your nails breaking, as you try to scramble away from the glowing eyes.

A scream ripped through your throat as massive hands grabbed you by the shoulders lifting you straight up in the air. The sensation caused your stomach to flip. You want to vomit, as you felt the cold air rip through the thin fabric of your clothes. You were in a swirl of darkness. The unknown was terrifying as you screamed and squirmed. You freeze when you heard it hissed at you over the flapping of wings. “Drop,” it had hissed distinctly. The monsters could talk. You latch onto that hope, you might have a chance, your eldest sister Maude taught you many things about the real world. After she was sold to the town’s brothels.

The only warmth you are given was being pressed painfully to the monster’s chest. The wind was moving faster, and you felt lightheaded. You are dizzy with new sensations and strange wonders. Clouds are not solid; they are wispy fog in the air, you giggle at the thought. Down below is a glow. The glow was growing bigger as you descend into a valley. At first, you thought it was going to throw you into a volcano from the bright glow. You clutch at it and it doesn't seem to notice. You dare to take a better look. You saw thousands of caves lit up in the circular walls. Other insect-like creatures carrying women are near now.

They and you land on a platform and descend into a cave. The stench of blood is coppery and heavy in the air. Screaming women are having their clothes torn off them as they tossed them in a pile of limbs of nude crying women. With expert hands, the one carrying you did the same, your garments were torn from you. You land on some poor woman. Your air is knocked out of you. You feel battered and bruised as everyone was trying to scramble and huddle in fear at the same time. fingers and toes digging and pushing into your flesh.

You looked around the bright bloody room. The walls are decorated in it, dust hung in the air, and it was bright enough to see plenty of human male corpses piled on the other side. You want to piss yourself in fear as you cringe away from the monsters with the other women. When pa got drunk, he would whip the lazy kids. You are by far the laziest but knew how to hide. You broke free of the other women and hid in a pile of corpses. No one saw you, everybody else is staring at the monsters in wide-eyed terror. The monsters are chittering and hissing amongst themselves. You played possum in a pile of corpses watching for your moment.

The chittering and hissing increase when a lanky muscled albino Mothman pushes through the crowd. This one was more well-groomed than the others and taller than most. His hair on top was white and fluffy but his fur collar and groin are sky blue. He had large brown ornate wings with flashes of red underneath. Black skin up to his elbows and knees. Covered in scars mostly around his red eyes, a gash over his right and one the left of his chapped lips. He looked more human than an insect, many had four arms, he only had two and if he was a normal man he would be handsome. Still, he had to be in charge because even the larger males were standing aside to let him have first pick.

His long fuzzy antenna that drooped from his head is waving over the girls. His massive hands with long fingers picked out a very pretty redhead. She cried pitifully when he sniffed at her, his feelers caressing her face getting damp with her tears. He must not have liked what he smelled because he jerked back his antenna and wrinkled his nose. He got over it because he flipped her on her hands and knees roughly. He sighs as if bored, yanking her hips up to him with four fingers, his cock began to unsheathe from his fluffy groin. It is massive, with a large angry red tip, a blue throbbing vein along the side. The poor girl looks between her breasts to see what is poking at her entrance and wails.

The horrible monster impales himself in her, causing the poor girl to pitifully whimper. She tries to claw away from the pain. She is screaming for help, reaching out to the terrified girls, who cry and piss themselves. She is thrashing so much he can’t get good enough leverage to thrust. The girl twists herself in desperation and threw something in his face. A handful of wilted lavender tumble to the ground. A look of frustration crosses his face before he grabs each thigh and tears the girl in two. She doesn’t have time to scream, a bloody gurgle froths from her as she decays into dust. All the girls in the room are wailing clawing at each other to get away from him.

“Shut up,” He rasps. Turning three more into dust. The other males are crossing their arms and shaking their heads as if he is just having a tantrum that will pass. You can’t help yourself; you puke. It is mostly raw potato and water, but it burns your throat non less. Mostly because of what you saw, the rest when you understand the dust in the air is dead people your inhaling.

When the girls quiet down his feelers start twitching. He rises to sniff the air. He’s making a chirping sound as he looks towards the pile you are hidden in. You close your eyes and hold your breath. You will hold your breath even if it kills you. It's better than being ripped in two or dropped from the sky. Suddenly you can smell lemons and musk, something is crawling over your body. Tickling as it caresses over your mouth and eyelids.

You yelp as a strong hand wrenches you from the mass of bodies and tosses you to the grounds. Panting to look up to see the pale scared Mothman, his crimson eyes blazing as he hisses at you. His front teeth are large and flat, but he's back are all jagged fangs. You cringe away curling into yourself. Reaching deep inside your survival instincts you start to babble at him.

“Oh, my what pretty wings. I've never seen anything so pretty. Your hair looks so soft, and those eyes…..those eyes so handsome. Oh, you look so strong, so manly, so sexy.” He stops hissing and cocks his head at you as you babble praises. Some more chirping then he spreads his wings. They look like the face of an owl with red eyes, he vibrates them, giving you a show of color with the music of buzzing. You make a big deal of how impressive that was, that he is, and he smiles at you. The smile puts you at ease enough to let you catch your breath. Your lungs burn, you don't know when you started breathing again you are so scared. He grabs you lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing, you give a pathetic squeak and make yourself hold still. He’s sniffing you, nuzzling his nose deep in your hair. You want to survive; you can handle a little bit of sniffing. He shifts his four-fingered grips to your waist and hefts you up to nuzzle and sniff your pelvis.

His soft feelers are everywhere tickling you. You can’t help it, you giggle, and immediately clasp your hands over your mouth. He snorts and looks up at you. He is tickling you again and when you don't giggle out loud he lets go, catches and press your face into his neck fur. You yelp as you are bombarded with sable fur, musk, lemons, and a scent that reminds you of the warm fields of dandelions back home. The buzzing of his wings fills your ears again. When he lets you pull away for air, he’s cooing sweetly. He throws you over his shoulder.

He makes some chittering sound to the other males as we leave, the others hiss and dive into the pile of women. Some of them scream others can be heard praising the males, oh and aweing. You hope they and you survive. You were worried he would try to fuck you right then and there on the decayed remains of the other girl. You’re thankful Maude taught you how to stroke a male’s ego.

Chapter 2

[sirius-thesstar]

thank uuuu, i’m gonna do it ooc for now and ic later because im too tired to think rn 😭😭

Last Song: the smallest man who ever lived by taylor swift because i’m still not over ttpd

Favourite Colour: purple/lavender is actually my fave colour to i LOVE that for us!!

Currently Watching: rewatching never have i ever !!

Last Movie: Twisters

Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet!! i do love spicy but i can’t handle it

Relationship Status: single 😔😔

Current obsession: madison beer, sabrina, taylor and the marauders (obviously)

Last thing Googled: ‘hex picker’ i needed a specific colour 😭

@remus-lupin-offical (or on your other account)

@barty-not-barry @stolemyheelsfromlegolas

nine people I want to get to know better 💌

ty 4 the tag @coldfruitwater unsure if it's actually possible for you to get to know me better but ily anyways

LAST SONG? light on maggie rogers ✴️

FAVORITE COLOR? greeeeen i surround myself with more blue though

CURRENTLY WATCHING? dimension 20 fantasy high junior year always & forever the best background for sewing

LAST MOVIE? my dad and i saw sing sing @ our local arthouse theater at like 10 pm this monday so i would stop panicking over school starting we were the only ones there it was so ridiculously beautiful

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? sweet!! (leaving in the copypasted audrey answer we are the same person after all)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? girl i deconstructed amatonormativity at like 12 i'm so done w that. relationships sure i have them.

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? john hollander, my new fountain pen, staggeringly infinite potential futures, obsession itself

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? the genius lyrics for a poem on the underground wall by simon & garfunkel

hi hello @little-orphan-ant @theiloveyousong @wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj @granma-sweetie @resident-dumb-fuck @ethernitty @interview-with-the-vlfote @catboymoses no pressure ofc!!

[bestiesenpai]

self care headcanons :)

I let a picker wheel choose 4 characters to do and I got Mahito, Yuta, Getou and Gojo. And for the ‘extra spice’ my self-care routine involves vibing with my tortoise and watching Bob's Burgers

Mahito

His self-care routine has to include at least one movie, usually an old one; I think he’d like ‘the fly’ a lot

He already enjoys a copious amount of ‘unhealthy’ foods so there’s no stopping him now, he’s 100% got a bag of those Lindt chocolate balls and is gorging on those

If he’s truly dedicated to the whole self-care vibe he’ll have you either paint his nails or braid his hair, otherwise he doesn’t sit still

Either passes out with chocolate smeared around his face with the TV still on or he gets a sugar rush and stays awake for the whole night

Yuta

King of self-care, you cannot take his crown! Very dedicated!

I’m talking bubble bath with rose petals, oils, soft spa music, face mask on and cucumbers on his eyes. He orders out and treats himself to everything he wants. There’s dedicated lotions and a robe he uses when he’s doing this particular routine

Might read a book as well and he has one of those bath trays to keep the book from getting wet and it totally has a lavender scented candle gently burning on it as well

No one can speak to him while he’s doing this, he’s in total zen mode and is literally walking on clouds as his head hits the pillow(sprayed with one of those calming scented pillow sprays and there’s a humidifier going as well)

Getou

You’ll have to force him to do true self-care past washing his body in the shower and going to bed at midnight instead of say 4am

It’s not that Getou doesn’t care for himself, it’s just that he always stops a little short. He takes baths, but they aren’t lush and over the top. He uses great hair products, but he’s not necessarily the type to do a mask/treatment and have fun with styling.

He will do whatever you say though, even if he gets antsy just sitting with a face mask on and listening to spa music. If you tell him to take a bubble bath to help take his mind off things you’ll also have to put a timer on and make him stay in for longer than thirty minutes.

The point is, he’ll do a self-care routine if he’s presented with one but he won’t outright do those kinds of things himself

Gojo

Another one you have to force but contrary to Getou, Gojo’s...risk management isn’t the greatest, so I honestly don’t think he thinks about his body as something to be pampered. Sure he’s the greatest but does he treat himself that way?

His ‘self care’ is just eating candy and talking shit which is great but it doesn’t really alleviate any stress for him lol and he just winds himself up even more about things he can’t control

You’ll have to lock him in the bathroom and tell him he can’t come out until he’s taken an hour long bath with a face mask on, some chill music and possibly a hair treatment as well(I just bet his hair is like hay)

Opposite to Yuta, Gojo’s self care will include a home cooked meal as, since he’s always on missions he eats out a lot. Some basic ass pasta and garlic bread is enough for him, just as long as you make it

[synonymroll648]

must’ve copied it down wrong bc i also got green. but i gotta agree with you i really like it. try #b19fc9 for the lavender though. (also for the hex codes i just typed color picker into google. and yeah the orange is correct)

also what’s your favorite month?

that's a very pretty lavender!! very soothing. reminds me of butterflies and tea and storybooks. love it. excellent taste.

june. it's when school gets out and when i get to go surf in decently warm weather for the first time in months - all in all, freedom and an abundance of queerness since it's pride month, and it's nice to see it's not just me that doesn't fit into societal norms with gender and romance. hbu?

[wolfie979]

Thank you!!

Teddy Picker - Arctic Monkeys

Your Sister Was Right - Wilbur Soot

Privately Owned Spiral Galaxy - Crywank

505 - Arctic Monkeys

It's all Futile! It's all Pointless! - Lovejoy

@mack-and-cheese @biroace02 @the-eventually-writer @the-lavender-creator @jup-just-a-potato @gamerlizzy8421 @hauntedreptile @peanutbutterandhunny @/anyone

When you get this, you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers <3

1. Standing At the Sky’s Edge- Standing At the Sky’s Edge (the musical)

2. There’s A Storm A’Coming- Standing At the Sky’s Edge

3. Our Darkness- Standing At the Sky’s Edge

(can you tell i just went to see it? it was very good btw, and there were lesbians with actually kinda good rep imo- i told my friend there were surprise gays and she said that sounded like a kinder egg toy 😂)

4. Meant To Be Yours- Heathers

5. It’s My Life- & Juliet (✨serotonin✨)

yes i love musicals. how could you tell

no pressure tags: @everlastingautumn23 @warriorfaeriequeen @idiot---witch @wholesome-dragon-lady @zhyan

and anyone else who wants to :)