#Carolinians

[celestialmacros]

Obviously plotting something

Carolinian Elegant (Meromacrus acutus)

July 19, 2024

Southeastern Pennsylvania

[froody]

upper middle class/rich white people from North Carolina will name their baby literally anything. and it was like this before the ~unique~ baby name craze.

[fernsnailz]

me and @serpentineshine are going to be tabling at Triad Anime Winston-Salem this weekend!! come by the artist alley and say hi if you're there 💥💥💥

[sunbleachedyves]

welcome 2 my blog !!

my name is vera, and my username is a reference to an ethel cain song (sun bleached flies) and a loona member / solo kpop artist yves ofc!!

music i love: ethel cain (my favorite), lana del rey, marina and the diamonds, phoebe bridgers, alex g, mitski, hole, loona/loosemble/artms/yves/chuu, lucy dacus, deftones, the front bottoms, modern baseball, american football, beabadoobee, chappell roan, tv girl, and olivia rodrigo

my favorite tv show is pretty little liars but im only on season one so i beg u no spoilers lmao

i really just post whatever pops into my head on this account. however i do love using a gif of a music artist and then song lyrics with it because why not, i also like making moodboards and posting my own personal pictures !!

i absolutely love and adore southern gothic / southern americana, mainly due to ethel cain and the fact i live in north carolina and the only way to make living here bearable is by romanticizing it bahahaha

im a minor so please DNI p0rn / nsfw blogs !! also dni creepy adults and pro ED / SH blogs.

ana blogs do NOT even try to interact ill catch u lmao this is a pro recovery blog 4ever and ever.

otherwise lets be friends!! feel free to message me, i love making new friends, especially ones with similar interests to me <3

love, vera

[nekropsii]

Who is one of your favorite characters to draw? Can be from any fandom

I like drawing Louie. :) He's my favorite Pikmin character. The design I use for him in my TTRPG, Into The Wilds, specifically. Weird alien thing.

Here he is in casual clothes, sitting on a shitty dock. He's getting bitten by so many mosquitoes.

[jessicaleemarianne]

To be in the world (Grand River, Brantford, ON)

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

My Garden Flowers Part 9

All photos mine.

In order of appearance:

241. Wild Yam (Dioscorea villosa) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

242. Nodding Wakerobin (Trillium flexipes) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

243. Moss campion (Silene acaulis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

244. Great White Trillium (Trillium grandiflora) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

245. Yellow Wood-Sorrel (Oxalis stricta) Small yellow flowers. You often find them growing as weeds, but they're native at least to the northern USA bordering southern Ontario. The leaves, flowers, and fruits are a very lovely snack, with a tart refreshing flavour.

246. Horseweed (Erigeron canadensis) A fairly common garden weed, but native so she can stay where she pops up from time to time. Not pictured as I haven't got pictures.

247. Stiff Goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigida) Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.

248. Fourflower Loosestrife (Lysimachia quadriflora) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

249. Smallflower Forgetmenot (Myosotis laxa) At least I think. Her flowers are certainly much smaller than the European pink and blue species I see around. Not sure what else she'd be.

250. Bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

251. Tall Meadow-Rue (Thalictrum pubescens) Yet more lacy white flowers! I imagine if you preferred white you could have a full native garden of such.

252. Northern Bog Violet (Viola nephrophylla) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

253. Wool Grass (Scirpus cyperinus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

254. Prairie Milkweed (Asclepias sullivantii) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

255. Square-Stemmed Monkeyflower (Mimulus ringens) More leggy than her yellow cousin, but still very attractive flowers that look a lot like snapdragons. She needs things moist.

256. Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

257. Meadow Sundrops (Oenothera pilosella) Not quite as intensely yellow as her cousins, Oenothera biennis and Oenothera fruticosa, but still very bright.

258. Wood Lily (Lilium philadelphicum) We don't have a ton of red or orange flowers native here as compared to yellow, white, or pink/purple flowers, so each one is a treat.

259. Virginia Waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) Yet more lacy white flowers! Not complaining, though, I think they're lovely in the garden. You find these growing in shaded woods.

260. Woodland Strawberry (Fragaria vesca) Unlike her cousin in the front, this one produces lots of berries...but they're white! That's not usual for the species but not unheard of. It's kind of fun to pick little white strawberries each year from that patch.

261. Pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

262. Bog Rosemary (Andromeda polifolia) This is a cultivar. I will have the wild type one day.

263. Strict Blue-Eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium montanum) Her cousin in the front prefers things dry, but this one, like many members of her family (irises), prefers things moist. It was actually easier to get her to take than the dry one, though, which I had three failed attempts at before the one I planted last year.

264. Downy Yellow Violet (Viola pubescens) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

265. Purplestem Angelica (Angelica atropurpurea) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

266. Wrinkleleaf Goldenrod (Solidago rugosa) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

267. Purple Giant Hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia) Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.

268. Buffaloberry (Shepherdia canadensis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

269. Silverberry (Elaeagnus commutata) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

270. White Lettuce (Nabalus albus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.

[ninjablorbos]

TikTok liked this one, so y'all can see it too

🩵🐏🤍

[spacedoutman]

【𝕻𝖞𝖌𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 𝕬 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖚】

(𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1)

Description: Kiss—A name worthy for the gang who kissed everything goodbye for money, thrills and most of all, to go out in a blaze of glory.

Y/N, a once aspiring actor not only struggles to find their place in all of it, but to save their husband, Paul Stanley, whose desperate to be saved as his feet sink deeper in the mud with each robbery and heist.

Morals are not only tested, but wrecked. Will the members turn on each other before they can even catch a breath or can they work together to deter the cops for just a few days longer? Will one slip up or wrong turn on the road lead to everyone filled with led and their corpses displayed proudly on poster cards?

Can you and Paul lie to each other and pretend that everything’s okay and that none of this is happening?

♥ Paul Stanley x Reader

Note: I'm very new to using Y/N so if it's a bit funny let me know please! I also moved the era up to the 30s. I have so much planned for this fanfiction and I appreciate all of your support MILLIONSSS!!!~~<3

I know Gene won the poll, but when I thought in depth about it, x Paul would open up a lot more doors in this circumstance. Promise I'll do a G x reader though! This fanfic is gonna go a lot of places and I couldn't be more excited for it (or maybe make Gene a mob boss who knows)

Hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you for reading <3

Warnings: None

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 2 / 𝖆𝖔3

Silence eased in. Just like her presence. The piano slowed as her face, framed by tight, heavenly curls conquered the screen. Her eyes flitted down. She tensed. A frown painted on her thin lips. Tears welled in her lifeless eyes, sparkling like a lake under the evening sun. Her long, full lashes could’ve hit her cheek. A tear ran down her face, leaving a line in her blush.

Your heart sped up. You leaned close as you could get without hitting the seat in front of you. Tears barreled down your face. Your mother laid a hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back. Your gleaming eyes were wide and alert. Your mouth hung open. “Y/N.” Your mother’s soft voice filled your ears. “Sit back.”

Your eyes followed the woman, who raced through the black and white mansion like it was some sort of dance. She snatched a suited man’s sleeve. He looked down with a flat gaze as she yanked it over and over with everything she could muster. The burning light from the massive window behind her touched her edges. She glowed like a jewel. Her lips moved. The excited piano spoke for her.

‘Don’t you want something else? Something other than to leave me here to rot?’

White words in a thin frame pasted across a black screen before the man looked down. He frowned. His brows slightly furrowed. He breathed as quick as a rabbit ran. Run he did. He tore away. She stumbled, clutching her chest and toppling into the silk curtains. How you could tell? The way they shone. He stared as she hugged the cloth like it was keeping her from falling. To where? Who knew.

Her legs trembled and buckled. She buried her face in her large fur coat and collapsed. The piano calmed as the screen faded to black. You tugged your mom’s sleeve. “Mom.” You whispered sharply, furrowing your brows tightly. Your mother looked down, her eyes widened a little. “Those curtains are silk.”

“They could be anything, dear. Enjoy the movie.”

Your mother looked up. You tugged her sleeve harder. Her eyes fell. “Do you think I’ll ever be her??”

“Quiet down.” She gently pat your head. “Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Do you think I can be where she is?”

“On the silver screen?” Your mother’s face softened as she looked out. You nodded quickly. Your mother glanced. “Well, you’ve got to be at the right place at the right time. It also depends mostly on who you know.”

“But I could do it nonetheless, couldn’t I?”

“I believe you could.”

Your head calmed like a still sea. The piano faded. Quiet chatter whispered in its place. Your eyes drifted to the screen. Your mother pulled her handbag from beside her and stood up. You looked down. “Dear.” Your eyes widened, shooting to your mother. She smiled softly, holding her bag close. She rested her hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Your heart sped up.

“I know you can.”

1931.

Cool mist touched your neck. Roses flooded your lungs like an ocean. You breathed deeply and gave it another good spray. The fancy flower-shaped bottle sat cozy in your palm as you slipped it on your vanity. The little liquid left inside settled in the very bottom. You pulled the necklace from between your lips and put it on.

You fiddled with the clip for what felt like years—all while your reflection judged you. You sighed. A little more perfume. You couldn’t wipe away your smile. What was it even for? You leaned forward. You turned a bit. Your blush was symmetrical. You tilted your chin and applied a little more red to your lips. Your eye twitched.

Your eyeliner wasn’t close to symmetrical by a long shot. Another deep breath. The smell of roses eased your fried nerves. Copper pennies strung evenly around your neck, shining like gold. You fixed your dress collar just one more time before cupping your tight waves. “Wonderful.” You sighed tiredly as you laid back in the wooden chair like it was a bed.

You stopped yourself from laying a hand over your eyes.

Your chest caved as you let out every bit of air left in your lungs. Silence was as golden as cash and as golden as the ring on your finger. You smiled warmly.

“Treasure?”

A voice soft as moonlight interrupted. You slid off the chair, hopping up and rushing through the bedroom. You reached out. The door eased open. There he was. Your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird. Joy washed through your head like it was the first time you met. You swore there wasn’t a moment love held those large, exhausted brown eyes captive.

You melted in his arms, sinking in his chest like butter. He leaned into you. One hand rested gently on the back of your head, the other on your waist. His touch turned that joy into pure ecstasy. He rested his chin on your head. You snuggled into his mud-caked red checkered shirt and overalls. The stench of sweat and probably pig shit scorched your nose. You fought yourself to breathe.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmured. He swept the flat cap off his head, letting it hit the floor. “I.. I still get overwhelmed by your presence.”

You stepped back. There was no way in hell you’d pull your eyes away from his. His little smile turned to a shining airy grin. “I’d have it no other way.” He cupped your hands. The moment your palms touched, you swore a bit of electric buzzed. You popped up, planting a long kiss on Paul’s soft lips. You still felt his smile under yours.

“Ready for bed?” You said softly, pulling away. He chuckled.

“I’ve got to get changed.” He sighed lightheartedly. “If I move wrong, the mud’s gonna fall off.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Don’t take long.” You playfully corrected.

“And what if I do?” He cooed, tapping your nose.

“Then I’ll be asleep when you get in here.” You smirked. His gaze somehow got softer.

“I knew I had to see you.” His voice lowered barely over a loving whisper. “You’re a blessing.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Your gaze intoxicated him. His gaze herded every worry from your soul. It was like you stood in front of him at the altar all over again. He lightly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer tan peas in a pod. You laid your hands on his chest, closing your eyes. His heartbeat surrounded you like an echo. You swore you didn’t need anything else.

“Don’t you need a new necklace?” He teased. Your lips fell to the corner of his mouth.

“I need my Stanley to come back to bed.” You purred. “Tell him that I’ll come down with a belt if he pushes it.”

Paul giggled. “I’m surprised it took you that long to use your mother’s perfume.” He combed his hand over your hair, careful not to mess it up. “What are you all dolled up for anyway?”

“I don’t know. You usually don’t come home this early.”

“Treasure. It’s almost midnight.”

You clutched him, shutting your eyes tightly. “You.. don’t come home till’ Sunday, if even.” You faltered, gloom leaking in. “I wish I could see you more often. I’d do anything.” Paul closed his eyes. He squeezed you.

“I’m working for it. We’ll be together before we know it.”

The words crawled to the top of your throat. You held your breath for a split second.

“You don’t get paid.”

“Seeing you is enough.” He forced in a sprinkle of joy.

“Seeing you is enough for me too. But we can’t live this. You and I both know it.”

“Once I get enough, we’ll be in the city before you know it.” His hand ran down your back, stopping midway. “And before you know it.. you’ll be on the silver screen. Just like you always wanted.”

[muirneach]

people are so mean to the beautiful and humble hiking trails of ontario. you dont like niagara escarpment?? unique limestone erosion?? big rocks and caves and rivers and ancient cedars?

[jazz-downtown]

Charles I sits on a throne during a time of severe unrest, and eventually gets his head chopped off.

Charles II is in exile for a decade, comes back and has no heir, then dies during some kind of fit.

Charles III divorces the kindest woman ever for Camel Back, we're in the middle of a cost of living crisis, and he developed cancer less than a year into his reign.

The Carolinian Curse is fuckin real guys, best watch out to see what else suffers cause Charlie Boi the Third couldn't be bothered to come up with a better name than his own

[forgottenmeatloaf]

I've finally played Disco Elysium and all I can say is that this is the only game I've played that made me look at my pc monitor and go "uh uh Chekhov's phasmid" with a straight face no questions asked. 10/10 would listen to the silly voices in Harry's head again.

[angered-box]

i gotta make a north carolinian miku

[saintbuffy]

desperately want to talk to someone about books/the stuff I’m reading

[archerofunspeakablelove]

I too violently oscillate between "I want to fuck him", "he's going to kill me" and "I wish I could kill him" whenever I think about the narrative representation of the government of the country I am legally a citizen of but never really felt belonging to.