#Golden Light & Thistle

[mothmiso]

Untitled (2) (3) by Jc

[findasongblog]

Find A Song about the coming of spring

The Duke of Norfolk - Golden Light & Thistle

About two years ago my sister, Young Adult Fantasy Author Hanna C. Howard, called me, said she was writing a new book, and asked if I would be interested in writing the song which would play a central part in resolution of the story. I said I would absolutely love to try but, as I was in the midst of a long bout of writers block, I wasn’t at all sure that I would be able to pull it off. The book is set in a fictional Scotland and the song needed to stir some sense of home and belonging. So just after Christmas last year, I holed myself up and, after reading a slew of Burns and Scott and Keats and all manner of other Scots and Romantic poetry, set myself to the task of writing a song about the coming of spring. I then took the resulting song, Golden Light & Thistle, to Hanna and asked if it would work for the book. She said that it was a perfect fit (whooosh!) and then wove it beautifully through the story.

Added to FAS Spotify playlist indie folk/country/americana.

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 1 🕊️

Welcome to Part 1 of Dead Dove-themed Tomarrymort recs. I like fluff and soft and light-hearted fic as much as the next reader, but at the end of the day, Tomarrymort is a dark ship, and there are some brilliantly talented writers here creating incredibly dark & twisted absolute mindfucks of works that I want to pay tribute to. 

Please note there can be found potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below, so this time I will be placing all 30 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if non-con/dub-con is not a theme you would like to explore. 

This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!

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Tomarrymort Non-Con/Dub-Con Recs

A Single Love by Vera_DragonMuse (E, 23k, complete)

If Tom had been raised by Harry instead, would he have grown up to be Lord Voldemort?

A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3k, complete)

“I think a fresh start is important. I’d like one, and I think this can be it.” “It’s a bit late for a fresh start for me, don’t you think?” he retorts snidely.

Aconite; Thistle by @kushimanii (E, 32k, complete)

Voldemort decides to keep Harry alive and impregnate him to bear children that he can raise into loyal Death Eaters.

Aftertaste by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, complete)

Harry noticed the handsome stranger before the game began.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted." Jenkins pauses. "Might have been a girl," he says. "We don't have any drawings, and all the texts are warnings that the God-Emperor is a jealous man - do not seek his puer, or you will be slain where you stand."

Cloudy by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Trapped alone in a prison on an island, there are many things Tom forgets. But he never forgets Harry.

Dark Light by CrazyJanaCat (E, 3k, complete)

Nineteen years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World is at peace, and for once, everything seems right. But what no one knows is that their hero has a dark secret...

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

For He is the Sun and I am His Shadow by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 13k, complete)

The date is September 1st, 1996. Lord Voldemort is about to get everything he's ever wanted.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

golden boy by @exarite (E, 3k, complete)

They thought Harry Potter was dead. Months after the battle at Hogwarts, the last of the Resistance finally gets captured. Voldemort shows them just how very much alive Harry Potter is.

Guaranteed Safety by Assapanick (E, 13k, complete)

The only problem would be convincing the Dark Lord to impregnate him, but Harry doesn’t plan on asking.

Harry Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rut by @neurowriter14 (E, 6k, complete)

Harry goes into the forest to confront Voldemort and his death, and all the while his rut waits in the wings, drawing Voldemort's curiosity.

Heartbeat by @phantomato (E, 24k, complete)

Harry, dumped into the past, communes with dangerous men.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.” “A sweet-hearted, good-looking, oblivious moderate, you mean?” Scorpius asks. “Well, that’s Harry Potter to a T. Too bad he’s married.” This is not the problem Scorpius thinks it is.

in bad faith by @cindle-writes (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort, despite looking thin and skeletal, is heavy enough of a weight on Harry’s chest that he’s having trouble breathing, each breath feeling like a thick, syrupy effort to draw in. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll take care of you,” Voldemort murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Harry’s ear.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

Legacy by Pengress (E, 6k, complete)

His Horcrux stared at him with wide green eyes. Voldemort could see the panic, the fear. He had accepted his place in the ritual reluctantly, but he had given the important permission for Voldemort to use his body, and while the preparation seemed to have scared his Horcrux, Voldemort would make sure he would not go back on his word.

Lingering Warmth by anon (E, 2k, complete)

In the aftermath of Harry's death, Voldemort admires Harry's corpse, and when Harry comes back to life he finds himself in a perplexing situation.

My Lord, Master, My Soul by FletchleyRose (E, 69k, complete)

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort learns that Harry Potter is his unintentional Horcrux. He decides to make him his – mind, body, and soul. Harry is not on board with this plan. But when the Dark Lord starts using pleasure instead of pain to convince him, will he be able to resist?

on the other side by @philolust (E, 3k, complete)

Someone abducts Harry Potter and the Dark Lord in an effort to get them to cooperate and end the war. It goes horribly wrong.

Precious Horcrux by @loneamaryllis (E, 127k, WIP)

"Precious Horcrux..." The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

rise anew by @duplicitywrites (E, 5k, complete)

“I must thank you for this new body of mine,” Voldemort continues in an amused tone as he flexes the fingers of his new hand, examining the unnatural length of them. “It is unexpected but not… unpleasant.”

silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)

Harry approaches, quietly, arms raised in front of him. It doesn’t take long before pale skin transforms into soft fur as dark as the night sky. Red eyes, now green, look at Harry with such an intensity that he has to take a step back. Four-legged and as imposing as he is when standing in two, Tom Riddle has transformed into a panther.

Such a Noble Villain (part 1) / Monster Under the Bed (part 2) by Run_of_the_mill (E, 4k, complete)

Harry and Voldemort are in a classroom, and Harry is stuck to a chair. Some very weird, creepy stuff happens next because Voldemort is who he is.

The Tattoo by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)

Tom gives Harry a tattoo that creates a bond between them, giving Tom some control over his mind.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)

Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.

Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability by lejf (E, 16k, complete)

Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.

Violent Delights by @katsitting (E, 5k, complete)

“The Golden Boy is no more…” Voldemort whispered, voice high and reedy, amused. Harry was shoved against something hard and unyielding. It scratched along his back, chafing the skin. Harry didn’t so much as flinch, refusing to make a sound when more jeers sounded in the clearing, the words cutting through the rush of blood flooding Harry’s ears—

*

[squiddy-god]

Ode to a prideful knight

(Sebek zigvolt x reader)

Re-upload, anyways, this is done in a similar style to "captured" and "confessions to a Fae" this is like Knight! Sebek x noble! Reader. Reader is human sebek is down bad.

CW : simp, knight! Sebek, human reader, fem! Reader I think, fluff

2.8k

Tall was the knight who adorned himself in the crest of his king, whose blade forged of steel was an extension of his will and pride. Boastful was the knight whose old gold eyes sparkled with green as if moss on the forest floor. Noble was the night who stood back straight as the arrow that never misses, whose brow forever was set firm in a scowl.

Uncharacteristically austere was the knight for one born half to the blood of those who dance in circles under moonlight and sing with trills of trickery, the prideful, nobal, frigid knight stood at post by his king. 

Leafs and ferns lined the ground his boots touched as he marched through the forest. Fauna grew in spectacular color and mystic hues, even the cynical man knew not why his libs carried him through the trees as deep as he could venture and further still. It was as if a spell took hold and beckoned him to this place, ruins of mortal men swallowed by the weald that he grew in, statues grown with vines and tarnished with broken limbs. Crashing in his chest like thunder and beating like lightning his heart pulled him with a string towards flowers of thistle purple and coral pink. Soft petals that drape down and dance with the breath of the spring air.

They brushed against his soft locks of nyanza green and left cornsilk petals in their wake. Tranquility was steeped in the soft glow of sunlight that brushed so delicately acros his pale skin, but as if a stone was skipped in a calm pond the moment was broken when slitted pupils caught sight of such an enchanting image as your skin aglow with life. Sat atop that tall wall like a callow youth was the one that had so captured his gaze, burning intensely as the knight looked on but walked no further, not to the shallow pond that housed few rocks and the thick roots of a tree that grew from under the wall. 

“But what's the harm if I explore! The woods are safe, are they not m'lady?” you spoke, words like sweet morning dew, the woman you talked with sighed “it may be safe for now but you know of the unease that festers between those who live behind the thorns! So please i beg you come down” exasperated the woman pleaded with you and the knight cursed the fate so cruel to trap his heart in this meadow only to pluck his favorite flower. Yet you seemed to relent a final glance towards the forest and only a glimpse of his figure that you thought nothing of before you were gone. 

His breath fluttered in his lungs, had you spotted him? His unbecoming staring had the image of you seared into his blinking eyes, light of the spring sun giving warmth to your features. Old legends say that even those born to cynicism and stony resentment could become enraptured by bliss in but a glance. 

The beauty you held was unlike else he'd seen, a beauty so unique to the golden green eyes of the fae that- for a moment- he wondered if even you saw it in yourself as he did, but thoughts like this he pushed from his mind, his awestruck gaze returning to but a crocodile scowl as the knight himself returned to the wild thicket. But his love was fated to grow next to those violet roses that crawled up your tall stone wall. 

Fate was not in good spirits or clever humor he thought, how it brought his mind to you, a sight he could neither forget nor bring himself to accept. What dastardly spell had you cast with a glance?  The incantation you must have muttered when he layed eyes on you that spring day? A week had passed and here he was, the snap of twigs and the crunching of pine under his heel as he marched with renewed vigor to those hanging branches of pastel flora. 

Slitted pupils grew slim against the vibrant backing of his iris, rapidly he breathed, quickly he ran and even quicker he unsheathed his sword when the source of that scream was within his sight, a nor huntsman or wanderer was the man whose blade was taken up against you. “YOU THERE! DO YOU DARE TO DRAW YOUR WEAPON AGAINST THEM” what was he saying? He couldn't hear as blood rushed past his ears, a burning rage not concealed within pools of gold now bubbling and boiling over. Even as the rays of light hit his steel sword the unknown man cowered at a booming voice the tore baited silence. The knight had not raised his sword nor made any move to attack but the coward scampered off hurriedly threw filtered light and thick overgrowth.

“Thank you sir-” “YOU FOOLISH HUMAN” his voice boomed more light with annoyance than the rage which seemed quelled. “Tch what foolishness were you up to that elicited such a scream” he was worried, a thought he'd never truly admit. Your face held neither guilt nor shame, but was indeed painted with gratitude and security. “You have my thanks, sir knight, i simply wished to explore but found myself in errr…quite the predicament” brows creased and tension seemed to stiffen his broad shoulders. “I don't know who i can repay you”

There was no need. “Allow me to escort you home” your smile was enough repayment, allas those were words he could not utter to you. 

He came often after that, skipping the stone in the pond by the wall as he extended a hand to yours, asking your accompaniment as you swept flower petals from his hair. Would he confess that his body felt alight with glee at your touch, at the almost loving way your fingers gathered petals from his shoulders? The words sat uncomfortably in his mouth, jaw clenched and lips pressed to a thin line when you drew near, he truly was a crocodile. 

“Oh knight~” your voice sang as you leaned over the stone wall just out of his grasp as always. And just as always he stepped without hesitation or pause, onto the engorged branches of the old tree that grew and whose roots sprawled into the meadow beyond the wall. You yourself stood on the plank of an old swing made when you were young, the shift of weight and unstable footing causing you to seek stability against the wall, and letting you reach over to greet your knight. 

Routine it had become to brush the petals from his hair and shoulders, and routine it had become to smile at the sight of such an uptight man covered in both the attire of a knight and the petals from soft flowers. “Have you heard the talk, sir knight?” he sighed “do not attempt to play coy with me, what are you getting at human” you feigned hurt, but as you leaned back into your dramatics your footing almost slipped. Your hands flew to the wall for stability but were caught but the knight, one hand holding you as the other firmly grasped your shoulder, the leather of his gloves where soft you thought, and the world seemed calm again. Soft trills of singing birds and the creekinging of roots were only marginally louder than the quiet breaths. 

“Foolish human, what am I to do with you? Come on now, over the wall” and you climbed the wall, not released from his grasp for long as he lifted you safely to solid ground.

His arms where strong as they seemed to hold you a moment in the warm sun, as if unable to move from the light, as if you where the sun itself the knight stood a moment longer before allowing you to nestle yourself on the grass between spiraling twisting roots and shaded by foliage of the same weeping willow tree. You sat and he stood, arms folded behind his back and feet together as if on guard for danger. “You were saying something?” he inquired. “Well, I wondered if you had heard of the competition in a week's time, for knights of fighters- heh really anyone who fancies themselves good with a sword.” glancing up at him his expression was not the soft one from a moment ago, but the one he always had. “I have no interest in the affairs of humans” you frowned and twiddled with a small blue hued flower by your side. “Really? It's a great chance to prove your skill or represent your lord, aaannnddd the prize is a kiss from someone of your choice-” his eyes perked up and it excited you “perhaps i could impress my lord!” oh how his heart boomed.could you hear it? The way it shaked and rattled in his ribs at the thought of your kiss, but he would take this to the grave with him, to let this human know of his affections was…no he couldn't, he would pretend that his spine did not shudder at the thought, that his palms did not grow moist with sweat as he felt himself wanting that prize. His pride, that damned pride of the knight would not allow him to fall, to fall so desperately in love with this human, but his pride would not let him lose, he would win this competition for the honor of his love and for the touch of your lips. “Oh, yes i'm sure he'd be very impressed if you won” 

Bright were the blinding rays that illuminated the dirt paths and vibrant colors of the cloth colored stands, strewn with the patterns of this kingdom in reds and greens and blues cheering crowds hollered at knights who prepared to fight. Up in high stands sat the king next to his own king malleus, standing alongside the king was his advisor and alongside malleus was lilia as expected. Next to the highest stands were slightly lowered stands where noble women sat and gawked in frilly petticoats and ruffles in spring hues, although like a blak sheep you stood out, sitting amongst them in simple clothing and a shifting uncomfortable glance around. He was curious as to why you sat with them out of place. 

He began to prepare, putting on the thick padded clothing and the cadmium green fabric over his head, the panels of fabric covering his back and front adorned with the crest he wore as a knight as well as the crest of his family. He fastened his belt around his waist loose and checked his sword, a blade without an edge as to not cause impairment

The haughty voice of the king flooded the open air, a man devoid of dignity and a fool of a king. True, tension and unease was rampant between the kingdoms since the time of the old queen and the king philip. “As you all have gathered here, your gratuitous and splendid king, me, hosts this tournament between knights and those who take up the sword! Besides the price of honor and gold, the champion shall also receive a blessing and kiss from the one of their choice” the fool of a king gestured towards the stands that you sat in with the noble women, “eligible noble women and the kingdoms beloved (y/n)” he laughed to himself as if this was a brilliant idea. “Have you anything to say to the competing knights and fighters?” the king asked. You glanced around the field as though your eyes were searching in vain for something you could not find, until with joy they landed on the figure close to the stands.

“Yes m’lord i do have something to say!” all eyes watched you as your figure leaned over the edge of the stands just far enough to almost reach the knight with tresses of feldgrau and nyanza green. He reached a hand up to yours, hardly bowed as to your outstretched one, but they were held together. “i already give my blessing to sir zigvolt!” you stated matter of factly, voice heard by all as whispers and murmurs sprouted like blackberry seeds. His face bloomed scarlet like spring carnations, the tips of his ears burning brighter in hue than even his pale skin. A prideful smile crept its way onto his face, chest inflating with confidence as he shot you a smug toothy gin. “I will win, with your blessing I will be victorious” as he turned away he paid no mind to the scowls and glares that followed the path he walked and saturated the air he breathed so thickly. 

Settled now from the shock of your statement the stands where envied with new life, howling and whistling cheers rang in the spring air and filled the ears of over confident knights and fighters.

Carried by wisps of wind, sand and dirt shifted and settled like dancing plumes of smoke around the footing of those who fought in the dirt flores arena. The world mattered not for the knight who stood tall and unflinching in the face of a steel blade thrust towards him. It was mocking really, the way he rolled his sinewy shoulders as if warming up, the lightning step of his feet that kicked up dirt and how the pommel of his sword struck his opponents center back. He was showing off, proving his capability in hope his love would praise his skill, and call him their knight. 

Another one defeated, dules passing by quickly as the knight's gaze became more intense, predatory as light cast the hard shadows of his strong features soft. To take up a sword seemed to come as naturally to the fae knight you watched as breathing, as being the same passionate yet sullen man you admired in your own secrecy just as he did. Even as he mounted a horse, confidence rolling off him in waves and floating like clouds to dampen the opponent in cowardice, he held an almost tangible pride, one that he wore on his shoulder and carried in his crest. 

You sat enraptured at the edge of your seat, palms flexing against the wood as your breath caught in your throat. Birds flap their bright wings within your stomach and you refused yourself to blink for the anticipation was too much. 

The lines of his head were creased in concentration, the long ple spiraling in green and white readied at his side, the way his jaw held firm and his lips pressed to a fine line, the way the cheers of the crowd faded to nothing more than a dull ringing in your ears as a grin split the heavens of your face and the knight opposite to the one you fancied was knocked off his horse. The hardened gaze that met yours held much more than pride and jovial victory, that old golden gaze held for only you a love that the fae had not harbored for another. 

You raised from your seat as soon as the cheers of victory brought you back from his gase, and you traversed down to the pit where your prideful knight dropped to his knee, gloved hands folded over his knee and head lowered to a bow.  

Gentle hands like flowerpetles cupped his face, and tilted it to meet your eyes. “Congratulations my valiant knight” you teased, yet with a touch soft as morning dew your lips fell to his hairline where nyanza green hair was slicked back, and there that touch of your lips lingered, and would continue to linger until he felt it again.

For love struck was the knight who kneeled to two, and prideful was the knight who held that image of you in his mind. Sturdy was the knight who held you in his arms when you fell not only for him but from that wall. Foolish was the knight, truly foolish was the knight who thought love would escape him, that it would not encroach on him like winding vines in such a fleeting moment. But even old legends tell tales of those mystic beings who dance in night time meadows and drink sweet cream and talk of magic amongst themselves, and who find love at a glance no matter how fleeting it may seem to those not blessed with the eyes to witness it. Yes prideful and foolish, and hopelessly in love was the knight who was blessed with those golden eyes laden with moss green. Blessed was he to have seen you sit on that tall wall, to watch violet roses bloom before him and foster those feelings of love. 

Blessed was that prideful knight to see the beauty you held, and blessed was he to love it, for he would always love what even you could not see. 

[mistydeyes]

perfumes i think the 141 boys enjoy

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summary: Scent is one of the most powerful senses, so what kind of fragrance do the 141 boys + Alejandro like on their significant other?

pairing: 141 x Reader

warnings: none

a/n - i also work for a perfume company so I've had a couple of ideas about what scents the boys like :)

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price - loves expensive, smokey scents on anyone. imagine the scents of a fresh cigar-that's what price wants in a fragrance. notes like pepper, leather, tobacco, cedar wood, and iris will make him crumble.

masculine

oud wood - tom ford notes: oud wood, sandalwood, chinese pepper

osmanthe kodoshan - maison crivelli notes: leather, tobacco, sichuan pepper, apricot, peach

functional fragrance - the nue co. notes: cardamom, iris, palo santo, cilantro

unisex

hinoki fantôme - boy smells notes: tobacco leaves, oak moss, and smoked leather

jazz club - maison marigela notes: pink pepper, rum, tobacco

lumière d’iris - veronique gabai notes: rose, iris, cedarwood, amber

feminine

baccarat rouge 540 - maison francis kurkdjia notes: jasmine, ambergris, saffron, cedar wood

cuir béluga - guerlain notes: leather, powder, vanilla

platinum 22 - floris london notes: rose, violet leaf, blackcurrant, oat, black tea

soap - woodsy, floral scents are soap's surprising pick. it brings back memories of the scottish countryside, adventuring in the woods and smelling the fresh flowers his mam had. notice notes of herbs (sage, rosemary, mint), lavender, and violet.

masculine

sauvage - dior notes: pepper, amberwood, bergamot, powder

h24 - hermès notes: clary sage, narcissus, rosewood

new york wall street - bond no.9 notes: sea kale, cucumber, lavender, ambergris, vetiver

unisex

voodoo chile - dries van noten notes: rosemary, patchouli, hemp

libre - yves saint laurent notes: lavender, musk

dirty grass - heretic notes: black pepper, lemon, hemp, violet

feminine

melancholy thistle - jo malone london notes: thistle, english ivy, cool wood

portrait of a lady - frédéric malle notes: frankincense, black currant, raspberry, patchouli

la tulipe - byredo notes: tulips, cyclamen, fressia, rhubarb

gaz - FLORAL CITRUS will make this man fall in love with you. it reminds him of a warm summer day sitting in the grass and smelling flowers. look for summery fragrances with notes of citrus, lemon, sage, and fresh herbs.

masculine

bleu de chanel - chanel notes: citrus, labdanum, sandalwood, cedar

polo black - ralph lauren notes: iced mango, lemon, tangerine, sandalwood, sage, patchouli

l'homme - yves saint laurent notes: bergamot, ginger, cedar wood, vetiver

unisex

cactus garden - louis vuitton notes: maté, bergamot, lemongrass

velvet cypress - dolce & gabbana notes: pine, lemon zest, bergamot, clary sage

eau de campagne - sisley notes: grass, citrus, herbs, jasmine, lily of the valley

feminine

brazilian crush cheirosa 62 - sol de janeiro notes: pistachio, almond, sandalwood, heliotrope, jasmine

her blossom - burberry notes: mandarin, plum blossom, sandalwood

flora gorgeous jasmine - gucci notes: mandarin, jasmine, magnolia, sandalwood

ghost - likes a light, musky scent! he loves when a scent adds to a person's natural smell (he hates sugary, gourmand scents). ingredients like musk, ambrox, pepper, sandalwood catch his eye as he pictures fresh sheets and a rainfall in a forest.

masculine

geranium pour monsieur - frédéric malle notes: mint, aniseed, sandalwood, geranium, frankincense

atlantis - blu atlas notes: orris, oak moss, violet, musk, ambrette seed

gentleman - givenchy notes: pear, lavender, patchouli

unisex

glossier you - glossier notes: pink pepper, iris, ambrette seeds, ambrox

not a perfume - juliette has a gun notes: ambergris

santal 33 - le labo notes: violet cardamom, cedar wood, iris, ambrox

feminine

missing person - phlur notes: musk, bergamot, jasmine, neroli, sandalwood

golden nectar - nest notes: florals, orchid, amber, musk

apollonia - xerjoff notes: white floral, orris butter, white musk

extra! alejandro - if ghost likes it simple and light, then alejandro is the exact opposite. he loves when he can smell someone's fragrance across the room. focus on bold fragrances with spicy notes of nutmeg, myrrh, and rum that is mixed with the gourmand of vanilla, almond, and tonka bean.

masculine

the last day of summer - gucci notes: cedarwood, cypress, nutmeg, patchouli, vetiver

bibliothèque - byredo notes: peach, peony, violet, leather, patchouli, vanilla

london myrrh & tonka - jo malone notes: almond, vanilla, myrrh, lavender, honey

unisex

tobacco vanille - tom ford notes: tonka bean, vanilla. cacao

dark rum - malin + goetz notes: anise, plum, leather, rum, patchouli, amber

tao dao - diptyque notes: sandalwood, cedar, cypress, myrte

feminine

lost cherry - tom ford notes: black cherry, tonka bean, almond

brazil aroma - costa notes: white jungle flora, orange oil, pink pepper, bourbon, vetiver, patchouli

babylon - penhaligon's notes: saffron, nutmeg, coriander, cedar wood, vanilla, cypriol

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[mrpcreblogtime]

Chimera Falin head canons:

Gets the little tippy taps when excited.

Wasn’t used to the new size at first which led to her being stuck in archways she tried to squeeze through and one time she collapsed an entire bridge that wasn’t able to hold her.

With the previous dragon, the harpies did not get along with it as it saw them as lesser monsters so they were skeptical of Falin. Within a 5-7 days they dubbed her matriarch of the flock and is a god mother to many of the hatchlings.

Thistle woke up from a nap to find Falin looming over him with piercing golden eyes staring down (she was making sure he was safe from harm while he slept).

Falin comes back to the resurrection spot once in a while during patrols. Watching the evidence of the past be eaten away by cleaners.

Adores seeing the dungeon rearrange itself, getting a good scope of it all from up high. Likes to focus on a single brick or plank and trace its entire journey.

Still likes to cast the dancing lights spell in dark areas even though she now has superior night vision.

Intrusive thoughts to bite herself to see if she can taste the dragon meat again.

[stalkerofthegods]

Lady Artemis Straight to the point info 

Lady Artemis who is the light, and the arrow in the bow, and the bullet in a hunting gun, and the same string In a lyre and a bow. May we all praise the wise huntress, Who is gentle to young girls and the bringer of Swift death from her golden bow.

Herbs • Artemisia, plants that bloom under the moonlight, Cypress, Chamomile, thyme, Lavender, Mugwort (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Birch, Juniper (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Mint, Pine (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Sage, Thistle (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Yarrow (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Angelica (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Bay Laurel (poisonous if used in large amounts and can irritate skin), Coriander, Dill, amaranth, cannabis, cedar, cypress, daisy, date palm, hazel, mugwort, myrtle, ox-eye daisy, silver fir, willow, laurel trees, fir trees, Various nuts or nut trees, Asphodel, Wormwood, wild flowers, Tarragon

Animals• deer/stags, geese, wild dogs, fish, goats, bees, hounds, all animals (she is the creator of all Animals in some discriptons), Calydonian boar, partridges, guineafowls, lions or leopards, bees, bears especially, bulls 

Zodiac • Cancer, Sagittarius, and Scorpio 

Colors • Silver, green, blood red, moonlight silver, Yellow

Crystal• moonstone, Black jasper, Clear quarts, Opal, White or black pearls, Amethyst, Black tourmaline.

Symbols• quiver, hunting spears, a torch, and a lyre, deer 

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• You can veil, and wear a maternity outfit in her honor while giving birth. 

Diety of • Unmarried Girls, Girl Childhood, hunting, chastity, menstruation, fast and easy death in childbirth, nature, childbirth, wildlife, healing, sudden death, animals, lakes, springs, virginity, young women, archery, and the moon

Patron of • childbirth, and fertility (Virgin means unmarried when she got the title before the meaning of it today, she helped Apollo be born, which accords to fertility), lesbians, unmarried women, hunt, chastity, archery, and the wilds, she protects girls and women during childbirth, menstruation, the moon, Nursing infants, Maiden dances, Maiden song, nurses/doctors who help with childbirth

Offerings•  •Bows and arrows, Images of Artemis, Game meat, Amphiphontes (round cakes topped with tiny torches, These are likely a reference to the full moon. White-frosted cupcakes with white or silver candles may be a suitable substitute), Cakes, cookies, pastries shaped like animals (ex-particularly deer), Red wine, Red grape, popomegranate, cranberry juice, Honey, Luxurious clothing, Wildflowers, almonds, goats, Honey, Hunting tools, javelins, nets, traps, masks, flowers, animal bones, tusks, taxidermy, tusks, animal hides, clothing (your favorite clothing or a garment you bought specifically for her), Owl and quail feathers, your hair 

Devotional• Donate to childbirth charities, donate to young girl charities and programs,   Dancing, Herbalism, Donating woman and girl clothes, taking nature walks, enjoying nature, give her offerings at midnight, make arrows, devote your hunting (invoke her before and thank her after), have a feast of her favorite food in her honor

Ephithets & titles • ACRAEA/Akraia - given to various goddesses and gods whose temples were situated upon hills, AEGINAEA/Aiginaia - when she was worshipped at Sparta, AETO′LE/Aitôlê - when she was worshipped at Naupactus, AGORAEA/AGORAEUS/Agoraia/Agoraios - protectors of the assemblies of the people in the agora, AGRO′TERA/Agrotera - the huntress, ALPHAEA/ALPHEAEA/ALPHEIU′SA/Alphaia/Alpheaia/Alpheiousa - derived from the river god Alpheius, who loved her, AMARYNTHUS/Amarunthos - a hunter of Artemis, A′NGELOS/Angelos - when she was worshipped at Syracuse, APANCHO′MENE/Apanchomenê - the strangled goddess, ARICI′NA/Arikinê -from the town of Aricia in Latium, ARISTO/Aristô - the best, ASTRATEIA/Astrateia - she was believed to have stopped the progress of the Amazons, BRAURO′NIA/Braurônia - from the demos of Brauron in Attica, CALLISTE/Kallistê - when she was worshipped at Athens and Tegea, CARYA′TIS/Karuatis - from the town of Caryae in Laconia, CHITO′NE/Chitônê - represented as a huntress with her chiton girt up, CHRYSAOR/Chrusaôr - The god with the golden sword or arms, CNA′GIA/Knagia - derived from Cnageus, COLAENIS/Kolainis - from the Attic demos of Myrrhinus, CORDACA/Kordaka - derived from an indecent dance called kordac, performed in honour of the goddess after a victory,  CORYPHAEA/Koruphaia - the goddess who inhabits the summit of the mountain, CORYTHA′LLIA/Koruthallia - from Sparta, at whose festival of the Tithenidia, CRANAEA/Kranaia - derived from a temple on a hill near Elateia in Phocis, Kunthia and Kunthios - surnames respectively of Artemis and Apollo,  DAPHNAEA and DAPHNAEUS/Daphnaia and Daphnaios - surnames of Artemis and Apollo, DE′LIA and DE′LIUS/Dêlios and Dêlia or Dêlias - surnames of Apollo and Artemis, DELPHI′NIA/Delphinia -Artemis at Athens, DERRHIA′TIS/Derriatis -  derived from the town of Derrhion, 

EURY′NOME/Eurunomê - from Phiglea in Arcadia, GAME′LII/Gamêlioi theoi - the divinities protecting and presiding over marriage, GENETYLLIS/Genetullis - the protectress of births, HECAERGE/Hekaergê - a daughter of Boreas, who were believed to have introduced the worship of Artemis in Delos, HEGE′MONE/Hêgemonê - leader or ruler, HEMERE′SIA/Hêmerêsia - soothing goddess, HEURIPPE/Heurippa -  finder of horses, HY′MNIA/Humnia - when she was worshipped throughout Arcadia, IMBRA′IA/Imbrasia - surname of Artemi, ISSO′RIA/Issôria - derived from Mount Issorion, LA′PHRIA/Laphraia - surname of Artemis among the Calydonians, LEUCOPHRYNE/Leukophrunê - derived from the town of Leucophrys in Phrygia, LIME′NIA/LIMENI′TES/LIMENI′TIS, and LIMENO′SCOPUS/Limenia/Limenitês/Limenitis/Limenodkopos - the protector or superintendent of the harbour, LIMNAEA/LIMNE′TES/LIMNE′GENES/Limnaia/Limnêtês/Limnêgenês - inhabiting or born in a lake or marsh, LOCHEIA/Locheia - the protectress of women in childbed, LYCEIA/Lukeia - a surname of Artemis, LYCOA′TIS/Lukoatis - surname of Artemis, LYGODESMA/Lugodesma - surname of Artemis whose statue had been found by the brothers Astrabacus and Alopecus under a bush of willows, LYSIZO′NA/Lusizônê - the goddess who loosens the girdle, MELISSA/Melissa - alleviates the suffering of women in childbed, MUNY′CHIA/Mounuchia - derived from the Attic port-town of Munyhia, OENOA′TIS/Oinôatis - surname of Artemis, O′RTHIA/Orthia/Orthias/Orthôsia - regarded as the goddess of the moon, ORT′YGIA/Ortugia - derived from the island of Ortygia, PARTHE′NIA/Parthenia - the maiden, PHERAEA/Pheraia - surname of Artemis at Pherae in Thessaly, PHOEBE/Phoibê - regarded as the female Phoebus or sun, PHO′SPHORUS/Phôsphoros - occurs as a surname of several goddesses of light, PITANA′TIS/Pitanatis - derived from the little town of Pitana in Laconia, where she had a temple, SARO′NIS/Sarônis - surname of Artemis at Troezene, SARPEDO′NIA/Sarpêdonia - derived from cape Sarpedon in Cilicia, SOTEIRA/Sôteira - the saving goddess, TAU′RICA/DEA/hê Taurikê - the Taurian goddess, TAURIO′NE/TAURO/TAURO′POLOS/TAURO′POS/Tauriônê, Taurô/Tauropolo/Taurôpos - originally a designation of the Tauran goddess, 

THOANTEA - a surname of the Taurian Artemis, UPIS/Oupis - assisting women in child-birth, Αγροτερη/Agrotera - Of the Hunt, Δικτυνναια/Dictynnaea - Of the Hunting Nets, Φεραια/Pheraea - Of the Beasts, Ελαφιαια/Pheraea - Of the Deer, Δαφναιη/Daphnaiê - Of the Laurel-Tree, Κεδρεατις/Kedreatis - Of the Cedar-Tree, Καρυαι/Karyai - Of the Walnut-Tree, Καρυατις/Karyatis - Of the Walnut-Tree, Λιμναιη/Limnaiê - Of the Lake, Λιμνατις/Limnatis - Of the Lake, Ἑλεια/Hêleia - Of the Marshes, Ευρυνωμη/Eurynômê - Of Broad Pastures, Λυκειη/Lykeiê - Of the Wolves, Λευκοφρυηνη/Leukophruênê - Of the White-(Bird?), Παιδοτροφος/Paidotrophos - Nurse of Children, Φιλομειραξ/Philomeirax - Friend of Young Girls, Ορσιλοχια/Orsilokhia - Helper of Childbirth, Σελασφορος/Selasphoros - Light-Bringer, Φωσφορος/Phôsphoros - Light-Bringer, Σωτειρα/Sôteira - Saviour, Ἡμερασια/Hêmerasia - She who Soothes, Ὑμνιη/Hymniê - Of the Hymns, Ἡγεμονη/Hêgemonê - Leader (of Dance, Choir), Κορδαξ/Kordax - Of Cordax Dance, Αριστη/Aristê - Best and Excellent, Ευκλεια/Eukleia - Of Good Repute, Καλλιστη/Kallistê - Very Beautiful, Πατρωια/Patrôia - Of the Fathers or Ancestral, Βασιλεις/Basileis - Princess/Royal, Ἱερεια/Hiereia - Priestess, Πρωτοθρονιη/Prôtothroniê - Of the First Throne, Μουνυχια/Mounykhia - Of Munychia (Attica), Βραυρωνια/Braurônia - Of Brauron (Attica), Κορυφαια/Koryphaia - Of Mt Coryphus (Argos), Αιγιναιη/Aiginaiê - Of Aegina, Δερεατις/Dereatis - Of Dereum (Laconia), Αλφειαια/Alpheiaiai - Of Alpheus R. (Elis), Αλφειωσια/Alpheiôsia - Of Alpheus R. (Elis), Αλφειουση/Alpheiousê - Of Alpheus R. (Elis), Λυκοη/Lykoê - Of Lycoa (Arcadia), Σκιατις/Stymphalia - Of Scias (Arcadia), Στυμφαλια/Skiatis - Of Stymphalus (Arcadia), Κνακαλησια/Knakalêsia - Of Mt Cnacalus (Arcadia), Αιτωλη/Aitôlê - Of Aetolia, Αμαρυσιη/Amarysiê - Of Amarynthus (Euboea), Αμαρυνθια/Amarynthia - Of Amarynthus (Euboea), Φεραια/Pheraia - Of Pherae (Thessaly), Ροκκαια/Rhokkaia - Of Rhocca (Crete), Μυσια/Mysia - Of Mysia, Αστυρηνη/Astyrênê - Of Astyra (Troad), Κολοηνης/Koloênês - Of Coloe (Lydia), Εφεσια/Ephesia - Of Ephesus (Caria), Κινδυας/Kindyas - Of Cindya (Caria), Περγαια/Pergaia - Of Perge (Pamphylia), Σκυθια/Skythia - Of Scythia, Ταυρια/Tauria - Of Tauric Chersonese, Ταυροπολος/Tauropolos - Of Taurus-City (Scythia), Ιφιγενεια/Iphigeneia - Of Iphigenia (heroine), Σαρωνις/Sarônis - Of Saron (hero Argos), Κναγια/Knagia - Of Cnageus (hero Sparta), Ελαφιαια/Elaphiaia - Of Elaphius (hero Elis), Καλλιστω/Kallistô - Of Callisto (heroine Arcadia), Λαφρια/Laphria - Of Laphrus (hero Phocis), Σαρπεδωνια/Sarpedônia - Of Sarpedon (hero Lycia?), Προπυλαιη/Propylaiê - Of the Gate, Ορθια/Orthia - Of the Steep, Αγοραια/Agoraia - Of the Market-Place, Απανχομενη/Apankhomenê - Strangled Lady, Λυγοδεσμη/Lygodesmê - Willow-Bound, Αστρατεια/Astrateia - Stayed the Advance, Ἑυριππα/Heurippa - Horse-Finder, Πειθω/Peithô - Persuasive, Πυρωνια/Pyrônia - Of the Fire, Κολαινις/Kolainis - Hornless,

Docked (Animal), Κονδυλεατις/Kondyleatis - Of Knuckles? (kondylos), Λευκοφρυνη/Leukophrynê - White-Toad?, -Bird?, Κοκκωκη/Kokkôkê - Of Berry-Seed? (kokkos), Κνακεατις/Knakeatis - Of Wolves? (knêkias, knakias), Αναιιτις/Anaiitis - (Lydian Goddess?), Ισσωρια/Issôria - unkown, Νεμυδια/Nemydia - unkown, Πωτνια Θερων/Pôtnia Therôn - Queen of Beasts, Ποτνα Θεα/Potna Thea - Goddess Queen, Λητωις/Lêtôis - Daughter of Leto, Λατωια/Latôia - Daughter of Leto, Λητωιας/Lêtôias - Daughter of Leto, Ἑκατη/Hekatê - Far-Shooting, Ἑκατηβολος/Hekatêbolos - Far-Shooting,Ἑκαεργε/Hekaerge - Worker from Afar, Ιοχεαιρα/Iokheaira - Of Showering Arrows, Χρυσηλακατος/Khrysêlakatos - Of the Golden Distaff, Χρυσαλακατος/Khrysalakatos - With Shafts of Gold, Αγροτερα/Agrotera - Of the Hunt, Θηροσκοπος/Thêroskopos - Hunter of Wild Beasts, Ελαφηβολος/Elaphêbolos - Deer-Shooting, Χρυσηνιος/Khrysênios - Of the Golden Reins, Χρυσοθρονος/Khrysothronos - Of the Golden Throne, Ευστεφανος/Eustephanos - Well-Girdled/Sweet-Garlanded, Κελαδεινος/Keladeinos - Strong-Voiced, Κελαδεινη/Keladeinê - Lady of Clamours, Ἁγνη/Hagnê - Chaste/Pure, Παρθενος/Parthenos - Virgin/Maiden, Αιδοιος παρθενος/Aidoios Parthenos - Revered Virgin, Προστατηρια/Prostatêria - Standing Before/Guardian, Αρτεμισιον/Artemision - Temple of Artemis, Ταυροπολιον/Tauropolion - Temple of Taurian Artemis, Εφεσιον/Ephesion - Temple of Ephesian Artemis

Attedees• OKEANIDES Cloud-Nymphai (only 60 of the 3000), NAIADES Fresh-water Nymphai (only some), BRITOMARTIS Goddess of Nets, Apotheosed girl-companions (ex- Phylonoe, Polyboia, Iphigeneia, Oupis), Mortal hunting companions (ex- Kallisto, Hippolytos)

Equivalents (alike but not the same)• Diana (Roman), Selene (Greek), Artume (Etruscan), Flidais (Celtic), Skadi (Norse), Bendis (Thracian goddess), Bastet (Egyptian goddess), Perasia (Cappadocian goddess), Tauria (Taurian goddess)

Signs their reaching out• Sudden pull to research her, to hunt, suddenly meeting people hunting, being a girl group all of sudden, focusing on yourself and not sexuality. 

Vows/omans• being a sacred Virgin/unmarried forever 

Number• 6 

Morals• Morally dark.

Personality• Introverted and independent temperament, practical, adventurous, athletic, and prefers solitude, she loves hunting, she is focused. 

Home• Mount Olympus but does spend a lot of time in the forest. 

Mortal or immortal • Immortal

Facts• Artemis was both a hunter of wild animals and their protector, she helped Leto birth to Apollo (suggesting that she was already mentally developed in the wound.)

Curses• miscarriage, Stunted growth, Illness & disease, Sudden death, plague 

Blessings• Success in hunting, fishing, and fowling, Successful delivery, good health

Roots• She was first mentioned on 700 BC, by Hesiod, In the Theogony she was born on the island of Delos.

Parentage• Zeus and Leto 

Siblings• Apollo (twin brother and full sibling), Aeacus, Angelos, Aphrodite, Ares, Athena, Dionysus, Eileithyia, Enyo, Eris, Ersa, Hebe, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Heracles, Hermes, Minos, Pandia, Persephone, Perseus, Rhadamanthus, the Graces, the Horae, the Litae, the Muses and the Moirai.

Pet• Deers/Doe, they pull her chariot 

Appearance in astral or gen• usually depicted as a girl or young maiden with a hunting bow and quiver of arrows

Festivals • Mounukhia, Artemisia (6th June, Modern festival of Artemis where anything goes, celebrating freedom and modern inspiration),  Elaphebolia (6 Elaphebolion, March-April, Festival of Artemis the deer hunter), Kharisteria (6 Boedromion September-October, Festival of thanks to Artemis for Athen’s survival of the Persian assault at Marathon), Mounykhia (16 Mounykhion April-May, Festival of Artemis the light bringer), Philokhoria (Modern observance – Summer Solstice, A joint festival of Artemis and Apollo), Sixth (6th each month, Sacred to Artemis), Thargelia (6-7 Thargelion May-June, Birthday of Apollon and Artemis, first fruit offerings and purification festival)

Season • April and March

Day • Monday 

Secred places• Ephesus/Turkey, Island Delos, Aitolia in Greece, Greek Island Lykia in Anatolia

Status• Greek goddess, in the theoi.

Planet• Moon, (some also believe Venus.)

Her Tarot cards• the high priestess, the temperance card, and the page of wands

Scents/Inscene • Jasmine and lemon, mrryth, frankincense

Prayers• 

Prayer 1

Welcome beloved Artemis, our keen-eyed queen, I beg you hear me now. I pray you guide me that I might find the way. I pray you strengthen me that I might persevere along it. Make my discernment as yours that I might find worthy aims. Make my instinct as yours that I might seize worthy opportunities. Welcome sister of Apollo, golden huntress, we honor and thank you.

Prayer 2

Fleet-footed Artemis, keen-eyed daughter of Zeus and gentle Leto, sister of bright Apollo, we see your shadow in the woods, the curve of your bow, the flex of your arm, we hear the wind whisper as your arrows seek their mark–deadly your art, flawless your aim. Huntress you are, O Artemis, slayer of the stag and the boar, slayer of men and of women, death by your hand is death unforeseen. Maiden are you, goddess, and friend of maidens; ever-youthful one, your favor falls on the young, watching over young girls as they brave the world’s wonders, comforting the mother in the throes of her labor, keeping in your care the newborn babe. Artemis, shining maid of the wilderness, who takes pleasure in games, in contest and in merriment, who leads the nymphs in their carefree dance, whose clear voice we hear in the songs of young women and the hunter’s cry. Artemis, strong and tall, I praise and honor you.

3rd Prayer 

I praise bright Artemis, fair as the budding branch, fair as the spotted fawn, brave as the young bear. From crafty Hephaistos you took the artful bow, the sharp-barbed shafts; from father Zeus you claimed your calling. Far-shooting Artemis, through the thick of the darkened wood you make your way, trailing boar and hare, swiftly and silently, your aim ever flawless, ever kind.

Prayer 4

Artemis, light-bringer, mountain-dweller, graceful one who runs through thorn and thistle with never a scratch, goddess unparalleled, friend of mothers in their travels, friend of maidens, friend of the pretty nymphs, in old Arcadia you roamed the wilderness, in Tauris you took the blood of men, in Ephesus you wore the mural crown. The fire of youth is in you, goddess, the bold and valiant spirit that marks a child as yours. Free-hearted Artemis, worthy daughter of Leto, I honor you always.

5th Prayer

I praise you, Artemis, free-hearted child of Zeus and blessed Leto, courageous goddess who roams the wildwoods with silver bow at hand. Artemis of many names, Artemis of many lands, your temples stood shining and tall, in cities and in villages. In the long days of summer the maidens dance in your honor; in Brauron were the little she-bears under your care. Artemis, the mountains are yours to wander, fleet-footed and firm of step; the wilds of the world are dear to you, O guardian of wood and of beast. Goddess who takes joy in dance and song, companion of the laughing nymphs in all their play, of all young maids you are the swiftest and the strongest, the fairest and the first, in skill and grace the greatest.

Websites/sources in comments.

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Artemis who is the light, and the arrow in the bow, and the bullet in a hunting gun, and the same string In a lyre and a bow. May we all praise the wise huntress, Who is gentle to young girls and the bringer of Swift death from her golden bow.

———————-

Payment to my friend Bri https://www.tumblr.com/briislame

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

[tofixtheshadows]

@myszkaa It is completely bizarre to me, when I consider the story of Dungeon Meshi to be so clearly laid out, but I know it's because 1) fandom will always rally around the easiest, shallowest readings, the quickest and least challenging impressions, and, more importantly, 2) these attitudes will always affect characters of color in the most negative light possible. Seeing what's been happening to Kabru and Toshiro (and inevitably with Thistle I'm sure) feels like living through a time loop because they're the exact things I've seen happen in every fandom, like clockwork. The takes are all the same, just with different set dressing.

Because Kabru is positioned in the story in a way that is the slightest bit "oppositional" to golden boy Laios, and because he is not white, he is treated as inherently sinister and antagonistic, assumed to be full of himself and incorrect, because Laios is "right" so therefore Kabru must be "wrong." He is not given anywhere near the same amount of grace that his white counterparts are given. For example, I cannot imagine a fandom that would let Chilchuck be their darling if he were not white.

Even the most positive depictions of Kabru- normally from people invested in shipping him, so they don't register what they're doing as biased- often portray him as more aggressive than he is, whether that's making him short-tempered and violent or just mean and catty. Or he will be a prop for another character. Or they will go in the opposite direction and claim that there's absolutely no good reason anyone could possibly ship Kabru with anyone, and donwnplay his significance in the story to an absurd level.

Meanwhile his very obvious PTSD has only recently started to be talked about in fandom. I seriously did not see anyone actually use the term PTSD to describe Kabru until about a month ago, despite the fact that his PTSD is portrayed as clearly as Laios's autism, complete with triggers and flashbacks and panic episodes.

I like to write about Kabru because I find him and the story fascinating, but part of my motivation is that I want to make the fandom sympathize with him more. I'm trying to purify polluted waters one drop at a time.

[gallus-rising]

hey the new Dungeon Meshi OP is all happy and peppy and fun, isn't it? NO. VERY DARK ACTUALLY

major manga spoilers ahead

first off go check out this post on Reddit. now i would like to add a few additional observations

this shot of the characters looking down at themselves in the hotpot is framed oddly imo. in a silly sequence like this you would expect the character reactions to be a bit goofy and exaggerated. instead we see how truly washed out and lifeless the "dream" color palette is compared to what the characters really look like. the happy dream Laios' shadow looms over them, and they seem genuinely upset. most of all tho is the totally identical smiles. you can see how artificial the expression is on Chilchuck in particular, that is not how he smiles

Reddit OP suggests this scene is Thistle's dream but i would argue that it's Yaad's dream. Yaad is the focal character of this shot and even seems to be at the center of everyone dancing. he is the only person not dancing with someone else which gives the impression that he's more of an observer. the people dancing around him appear to all be adults, who at the time of Dungeon Meshi have all lost their minds and have become ghosts. finally, Thistle seems unusually upbeat imo. he's also not close with anyone outside the royal family and based on Adventurer's Bible material he seems to be shunned/distrusted by most other people, so why would his perfect dream world have so many strangers in it?

Yaad's dream is for the people of the Golden Kingdom to be happy and healthy, and for his family to be back together :']

our main characters are at the top of that tower in the background of everyone unconscious and floating up into the sky. despite being at the top of the tower they are the only people outside of Yaad's dream that aren't washed out dream colors, which makes sense when you remember that they're the only people who weren't taken by the Winged Lion/Demon

yeah everyone's just straight up dissolving into light. combined with their placidly happy expressions that's very creepy once you notice it

somewhat happier note. when the main characters are holding hands towards the end they are in their normal color palettes and actually look happy. i'm seeing this as symbolic of one of Dungeon Meshi's big Themes: choosing to find happiness in the real world thru genuine connections with other people

but finally... the saddest most darkest part of all.....

Marcille's ass censoring a Senshi Panty Shot 😔

[static-electric-dreams]

Hmm, this Other Skies party looks kinda familiar....

Design notes below 👇

Laios: Eshenali Knight

I obviously wanted Laios and Falin to be "dragons," but it was hard to decide what color scales to give Laios (Falin, who I'll draw later, is of course red and fluffy). I settled on white with golden eyes, lol. He has more futuristic power armor here and carries a light sword inhabited by a strange alien creature. I also want to say he cuts/shaves the fur off his tail and feet for Personal Reasons. In Other Skies, he's obsessed with alien beasts in lieu of monsters.

Senshi: Zair Survivor

Senshi is already perfectly suited for the survivor class, and it made sense to translate him to a hairy and magnanimous Zair with black fur and brown markings. He lived out in the dangerous wilderness of Palazair before meeting his current party, and makes sure to always have some grub around to keep people's psyche up. Think of how fast one could cook with four hands!

Marcille: Sucralite Psion

I had a hard time deciding what species to translate Marcille into, but I think the glamorous and androgynous Sucralites are the best analog to elves that I can think of. Other Skies!Marcille might have a more Sucralite name ("Ambrosia" might actually be a good one), or they might choose to present as feminine while traveling. Her staff has been translated to a high-tech device that can connect to her thoughts and amplify her psychic power, thus making her attacks stronger.

Chilchuck: Santornan Assassin

I chose the "assassin" class for Chilchuck because it's the one with the most lockpicking and sneaking related moves and skills; the name implies that killing is the end result, but it doesn't have to be. He's of course a Santornan because of their small stature and "cute" faces. He has a closed piercing hole where his wedding earring once was. As a side note, I considered changing his color palette to blues and pinks to match Santornan aesthetics, but I wanted the design to be recognizable so I didn't. Maybe another time!

In the future I also want to draw Falin, Kabru, Izutsumi, and perhaps Thistle.... We shall see.

[dapandapod]

Reaching

Hello there! You know when you have not an idea, but a mood, and you also have the words, but not the story, and you just wants the mood to translate into paper? Yeah, that is what happened here haha! Thank you very much @magdelanesingerin for helping me beta read <3 well needed! Please enjoy! <3 On Ao3 here

The fire shines like a beacon between the trees.

Most likely because it is, Geralt muses to himself, as he approaches their little camp through the woods. It is late in the eve already, the clouds hanging sullenly between them and the canopy of night sky that is his usual companion during these nights.

It is more gloomy than usual, though, and he has to take care where he sets his feet. Of course there are things he could do about it, but well.

The Cat potion washes out a lot of colors, and despite its usefulness he rarely drinks it. Geralt prefers to witness the midnight blues, the stars, the dusted purples and pinks stretching infinitely far above.

He enjoys watching how the fire gives their tent, their packs, Jaskier’s hair, all a golden sheen, how the sparks of the flames reflect in the bard’s eyes.

Not that he would tell anyone that is the reason.

It is a fairly calm night, almost no wind to speak of, so the smoke twists and curls around itself up between the branches. It’s a familiar smell, the burning wood, the wet leaves, the greenery and the somewhat humid air.

The light calls him home, and he feels himself longing for it, reaching with all his heart towards it. As if you can catch light with your fingers.

Geralt makes sure to announce his presence with some shuffling steps. He learned the hard way how Jaskier reacts to a fright, and as amusing as it is, that one light grey tunic of his will never recover from the fistful of stew that was flung at it.

“Better than gory innards, at least,” Jaskier had said later with a sniff, shaking his hand from the stinging heat of the stew. “Smells better too.”

This time there is no surprise, and Jaskier looks up from the book he is reading and smiles. The shadows and the flickering light gives his face strong angles, like the rough strokes of a painting, and there is a familiar something curling up in his chest, something warm and pleased.

Geralt enters their clearing, noting the slight tilt of the tent that Jaskier set up, and the canvas spread over the saddle and their bags. Roach stands a bit further away, working on the underbrush, her tail swishing away the insects preying on her.

Jaskier returns to his book, his bedroll spread out a safe distance away from the fire, but close enough to let him read comfortably in the golden light it casts.

Their habits are well practiced by now, there is no need to explain himself, no need to break the companionable silence.

Geralt sits down next to him, carefully extracting his finds from the foraging bag Jaskier got him a year or so ago.

Valerian, thistle, an assortment of roots, Yarrow, and other useful, human friendly finds he keeps picking up for Jaskier, although exactly how human he is is up for debate.

Some of them will be tied together to be dried, and some of them needs to be used immediately, so he leans back and reaches for the saddle bag with his mortar.

The heat of their little campfire warm his knees and his feet and the sliver of stomach that is revealed as his shirt rides up.

He already knows Jaskier’s eyes will be on him as he sits up again, and allows them both another few seconds, pretending not to know which pocket of the saddlebag it’s in.

Indeed, Jaskier is watching him over the edge of his book, eyes following the lines of the shirt across Geralt’s chest, the movement of his hands as Geralt rolls up his sleeves to work.

When Geralt pauses before picking up the first herb, Jaskier’s eyes meet his. For a long moment, they just look at each other, and Geralt pretends that the heat on his face is from the fire warming his skin.

The shadows outline Jaskier’s finger around the book, the dim depths plummeting down his neckline where his shirt is carelessly untied, the corner of his mouth, his brow…

“What?” Jaskier asks quietly, a smile tugging at his lips. For a moment longer, Geralt allows himself to look, the contentment and the longing for what is right there squeezing his heart.

“Nothing,” he says back, just as quietly, returning to his task.

He feels Jaskier’s eyes on him a moment longer, until he hears the flipping of a page. He knows that if he really listens, he will be able to hear the bard’s pulse. It feels like an invasion of privacy, but sometimes, like when he is on potions, he can’t help it.

There is something there, something in Jaskier that reacts to Geralt, even if he doesn’t show it. When he catches Geralt watching him, or when their hands brush, or when Geralt comes up to stand behind him, his back inches from Geralt’s chest.

Such is the dance of theirs, the reaching, but never catching. Like magnets, every move pulling them closer and every shift pushing them apart.

The book Jaskier is reading is not very thick, but well loved. They have both read it many times over, and even when the opportunity to trade or sell comes, this one always stays. A story of knights and wonder and hope and magic and loyalty, the longing for belonging and the home they make together.

A fantasy, but a loved one.

The first drops of rain fall just as Geralt is tying the last herbs together. With a swear, Jaskier hurries to put the book in the safety of the tent before helping Geralt to put their things away and dousing their little fire.

Back under the canvas the mortar and herbs go, and Roach shuffles deeper among the trees for shelter.

The small oil lamp is lit inside the tent as Geralt pours dirt and stomps on the remains of the embers, and the shadows of Jaskier moving about inside the canvas makes him stop and look once more.

Wherever Jaskier goes, he brings that beacon of light with him, Geralt thinks, drawing the witcher’s attention to him. He stands there a moment too long, the rain now picking up to a proper drizzle, quickly soaking his shirt, when Jaskier pulls the tent flap open.

“You coming?” he asks, squinting out into the darkness, spotting Geralt.

Instead of responding, Geralt thinks of reaching, and steps into the light spilling from the tent. There must be something in his face, because Jaskier stays where he is, watching him approach, watching him kneel, and with his free hand does the unthinkable.

Jaskier reaches forward and catches a drop of rain from his cheek, tracing the path down with his thumb as another takes its place.

Reaching and catching, Geralt thinks, finally being let inside the tent, kneeling too close to where Jaskier sits, still holding the tent flap open for them.

Jaskier is lowering the tent flap, shutting out the night and the rain and the dark, when Geralt, too, reaches. More truthfully, he is leaping forward, throwing himself over the edge that he has been eyeing for so long.

Leaning into Jaskier’s space, holding his gaze all the way, the smallest of sounds when Jaskier parts his lips to pull in a breath and reaches for him. Geralt, too, is reaching.

His hand is cold against Jaskier’s cheek, exploring where the shadows once were sharp and deep, they are now smooth and glowing in the lamp light.

Their noses brush together, then again with more intent.

“Why now?” Jaskier whispers, and indeed, why now?

“Haven’t we waited enough?” Geralt whispers back and Jaskier gives the smallest of smiles, resting his hand on Geralt’s leg.

“We have,” he agrees, but still they both linger in that between.

The rain is smattering against the canvas, the air in the tent warming up fast with the both of them in there.

“We should tie up the flaps,” Jaskier whispers, tilting his head and their lips touch by accident.

It sends electric sparks down Geralt’s spine, his other hand comes up to cradle Jaskier’s face, his neck, to brush a thumb along the shell of his ear.

“We should,” Geralt agrees, but instead stands a little higher on his knees, pushing a little closer into Jaskier’s space.

The kiss is soft, lingering. Just a press of lips, catching each other’s breaths as they kiss again.

It takes too long for them to notice that the rain is dripping onto the woolen blanket of Geralt’s bedroll, so they part to finally tie up the bedflaps.

The tent was never big, and the distance that felt unsurmountable before is shrinking into nothing now.

Jaskier lays his head on Geralt’s arm and reads out loud from the book they both love, with Geralt’s hand resting on his stomach.

Change is weird, Geralt thinks to himself as he presses his nose into Jaskier’s hair, enjoying the light shiver it causes, the hitched breath in the middle of his reading as he presses a kiss to Jaskier’s temple.

When the bard’s eyes droop closed at last, Geralt reaches over him and turns off their little lamp.

Jaskier turns into him, curling into his chest in a way that is familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

This, Geralt thinks, is where he always was meant to end up. The beacon of light that finally led him home.

[mothmiso]

Spain 2017 (2) (3) (4) by Krzysiek K

[eldrith]

Would you be willing to tell us anything about your WIPs?

sure! i have so many - like a sick amount lol. so here are just some in no particular order... with songs that have lyrics that fit the plot <3 ive been heavily discouraged as of late and can’t guarantee anything in terms of posting these

about you ; jacaerys x aunt/targ!reader [jace is betrothed to baela], request. ➺ vibes: escaping your family just to tame an untamable beast. saving your cousin's life, almost losing your own. feels like unrequited childhood longing, slow burning; like finding the cherished toy that was lost in your youth. like laughing in the face of death. sounds like 'about you' by the 1975, like the roar of an ancient beast, the buzzing of a fly in the corner of a peaceful room. tastes like herbal tinctures, root of thistle, and milk of the poppy. smells like ancient dragonsmoke and rolls of gauze.

dead men don't sing ; jacaerys x stark!reader, request. ➺ vibes: sweet, but foreboding - like the destiny woven into your bloodline long before your mother’s mother ever had a name. feels like playful love, poorly contained desire; like when the burden placed upon your back is lifted by the one you love. sounds like 'would that i' by hozier, like the northern wind snapping in your ears. tastes like snow on your tongue, remnants of wine upon lips. smells like the woods in winter; like a well-burned hearth.

a golden cage [part iv] ; jacaerys x aunt/targ!reader ➺ vibes: awkward dinner parties, the embarrassment of sprouting affection. feels like an apology in the back of your throat, like the guilt and subsequent relief of looking at someone and feeling like you're looking into a mirror. sounds like 'south' by hippo campus & ‘shake it out’ by florence & the machine; like dramatic declarations and whispered vows. tastes like wine in your cup and the salt of ocean upon lips. smells like incense burnt low and muddled sourleaf tea.

honeyed [part ii] ; jacaerys x queen's advisor!reader. ➺ vibes: flirty, sweet, - resisting something you know is inevitable. feels like the giddiness of camping with an old friend; or the first time riding a dragon; like looking up during a storm just to feel rain hit your smile. sounds like 'pools' by glass animals, like quiet whispers within canvas tents; like the chorus of full tables at Raventree Hall, celebrating royal guests. tastes like wild berries and fresh river water. smells like the leather of dragonsaddles, like wild rosemary.

miscellaneous; these may never see the light of day

untitled ; jacaerys x lady!reader, request. ➺ vibes: yearning for your best friend & knowing them better than the back of your hand. betrothal proposals, envy. feels like lounging in the hot sun, like worrying over looks sent to you across the ballroom; gossiping with your crush’s brother. like the brush of fingers upon your neck, like a gut bubbling in unspoken jealousy. sounds like ‘daydream / wetdream / nightmare’ by saint motel, like butchering the pronunciation of an ancient tongue. tastes like cucumber sandwiches, like hot tea under the summer sun. smells like old library scrolls and cologne oils upon a warm neck.

half-fleshed fic of modern jace x best friend reader ➺ vibes: almost-friends-with-benefits with your best friend - poor drunken choices, insecurities, yearning. feels like not knowing what you are, like washing off the remnants of lipstick upon your neck in the shower. sounds like 'an ode to a conversation stuck in your throat' by del water gap & ‘affection’ by BETWEEN FRIENDS; like the faint whispering when someone sleeps. tastes like guinness on tap, like cookies made at 2am. smells like empty streets after rain, like the warmth of your best friend’s hoodie.

untitled ; jacaerys x wife/betrothed!reader [undecided, v incomplete] ➺ vibes: teasing someone to see them squirm, smiling politely to hide a smirk. feels like the excitement of a chase, the warmth of desire; like tugging on curly tresses. sounds like the scraping of silver cutlery against plates, like breathless pleads against sweaty skin - like 'silvertongue' by young the giant. tastes like an eager tongue pressing against your own, sweet like blueberry pie. smells like blown out candles, scented oils on pillows.

untitled ; jacaerys x wife!reader ➺ vibes: giddiness & good news. happiness, the blossoming flower that sprouts from the seed of sorrow. feels like sand under your feet, like arms around your waist. sounds like the shaking of pride in a voice, like ‘jackie and wilson’ by hozier. tastes like salt of tears, like rosemary cakes. smells like home.

& maybe a nsfw version of the 5 love languages with jacaerys but who knows

[wordsbymae]

A Gift From the Sea Pt.1 - Fisherman/Selkie AU

AHHHH I am so excited for this one, like I am obsessed. Anyway, reader is female and there isn't really any triggers. Except fisherman is obsessive and hides the readers seal coat from them. The first part of this is pretty much a love letter to women and female friendships, until I drag a stupid man into it. I hope you guys like!

He hears them again. Singing, laughing, whispering. Huddled amongst the rocks and gentle waves like flowers in a field. He watches with bated breath as one by one they shed their seal coats, emerging from the flesh of an animal to that of beautiful women. They call each other sisters and yet they all look perfectly unique from one another. There's one with soft golden locks, cut short along her ears, with freckles dotting along her shoulders . Another with dark coils that frame her round face, cheeks dimpling as she laughs. Despite the differences in features, all of the women, twenty at least, interact with love to one another.

One of them is braiding an older ones long hair. The older ones hands too brittle and frail to weave the intricate knots that the younger one does. He listens as they sing songs of the deep sea. The songs of their foremothers, lullabies of the ocean. A few others play a game of hide and seek amongst the rocks, the seeker beginning to crack one eye open in desperation to find her sisters. The women giggle as she calls 'Seal outta water!' catching a tanned skinned woman in the act of hiding upon one of the rocks. He catches a glimpse of where most have hidden their seal coats, gently folded amongst the brush. Each coat was completely unique to the others, often mimicking the owners. The coat of the woman with the golden locks, had specks of light gold amongst dotted pigments of brown. The woman with the round cheeks, had a coat of dark, supple brown, merged with black and grey.

He had yet to spot you or your coat.

One he first spotted the selkies he thought he was going mad. They were nothing more than folk tales, stories of beautiful women in the coats of animals. But he saw them, and he saw you, emerging from the sea one deary winter morning, a family of seals changing before his eyes. You were the first one he saw. You in all your naked beauty.

Supple flesh and rounded curves, hips perfect for bearing children. Eyes sparkling with mirth. A wife in the making.

But you were not here today. He scanned through the seal folk, yet he still couldn't see you. He bit his lip, today was meant to be the time he struck stealing your coat and making you his wife.

A subtle ripple in the calm waters, away from the large gathering of selkies, announced your arrival. You emerged from the water, coat folded in hand, with a bright smile on your face.

"Sisters!" You grinned, beginning to prance through the water to them.

"Sister!" they cried back. Waving and laughing with glee at your arrival. You hugged and kissed others on the cheek, before looking towards where the coats were hidden.

The fisherman held his breath and hid deeper under the brush, thistles pricked at the skin of his cheek, but he stayed silent and still.

You placed your coat amongst the others. Like those of your sisters, it perfectly resembled your features. He could tell which of the coats was yours in a heart beat.

As you began to re-join your folk, he made his move. Once your soft coat was in his hands, he nearly cried with joy. It had been months now since he first saw you, since he promised himself to make you his wife. And all his dreams were soon to come true. He quickly moved back to his hiding place, now only having to wait till the right time to make his presence known.

Hours passed, the sun slowly beginning to set, the time spent by the fisherman dreaming of the life that you will live together, caressing your coat as if it was you. He listened and watched and the seal folk began grabbing their coats and returning to the sea. As the last to arrive you were also one of the last to leave. You waved to your last sister as she drove amongst the waves, giving her a promise to follow soon behind. Making your way towards where you left your coat, you breathed in the coastal air, feeling the dying sunlight on your skin. The world above was filled with such delights, but nothing compared to your ocean home. You bent down to grab your coat, only to find it missing.

The fisherman, only metres away listened as you began to panic, ripping apart the brush to find even a glimpse of your coat.

Tears filled your eyes, pouring over onto your cheeks. Without your coat you were nothing, without your coat you could never return home. You gave a shriek of pain. It was gone, truly gone. You began screaming for your sisters to return, to help you find it, but they too were gone.

He watched as the hour slowly passed, the denial, anger and misery of it all racing across your face. A part of him was pained by his actions, he caused the very agony that wracked your body. But he steeled himself. He would not let go of his promised wife so quickly.

He waited until exhausted plagued you, until you fell to your knees. Sobs passed by your lips pathetically, tears almost a constant on your face.

He packs your coat into his inner jacket, his large fishing jacket covering both it and him in warmth, and makes his way towards you.

"Are you alright lass?" he asks, feigning ignorance at the fate that has befallen you.

You look up in fright. A tall, lanky man stood in front of you. He had a head of messy curls and a sullen, shrunken face. The face of a man with worries aplenty.

You took a moment to process his ask, you were definitely not alright. You had been stripped away from your home and family. And what have become of your coat? Did it fly away, caught up in a wicked wind. Or had one of your sisters stolen it, in jest or as revenge for a petty action of yours long passed. Or, maybe, if the tales of your sisters and mother were true, had a man taken it? You believed the stories of men stealing away coats to have selkie wives as nothing more than an old seal's tale. Just a cautionary tale to young seals to keep good care of their coats when they shifted. There hadn't been a confirmed captive selkie in hundreds of years, the practice of taking a selkie wife long out of fashion due to humans disbelief selkies even existed at all.

You gazed at him with soft teary eyes. He seemed kind enough, gentle too. There was no use crying amongst the sand. Night would come soon, and you were not made to survive as a human.

You slowly nodded, too shy to speak to a male human.

His hand, worn with work, came before you and you slowly placed one of yours in it.

Wordlessly he helped you from your knees, just as the last light of the sun began to wave its goodbye beyond the horizon.

"Here take this" he mutters, you don't have a chance to ask him what it is your taking, as a large, warm fishing coat is laid on your shoulders. It smells and salt and fish. You close your eyes in bittersweet delight, it smells like your own coat.

The fisherman shoves a hand into his remaining jacket pocket, toying with the soft fur of your coat. The old selkie wife tales ended in despair for the human husband because the wife knew he had her coat. What if he didn't tell you, what if you never found out. There would be no reason to search anywhere for anything, if you were unaware how close it was. His attention was turned to you as you let our a meek thank you, borrowing into the large coat. He gave a hum of welcome and a slight nod, before leading you up the path to his lonely house.

But, it wouldn't be so lonely for so long, not with his soon to be selkie wife in tow.

[kell-stitches]

Tutorial: How to make 3D embroidered thistles

I'll start by saying that these are not the easiest element to create. It took me some experimenting to develop the technique and practice to actually make them well. I'll do my best to explain everything and I promise it will take a few tries, but trust the process and you'll be fine. They add such a beautiful and unique element to a piece so they’re worth the effort to learn

First, begin with the shape of your thistle. The middle bulb shape and lower leaf shape are what you'll actually be stitching, while the upper fan shape is more just for sizing reference

You'll want to measure the length of the thistle from the base of the bulb shape to the highest arc of the fan shape. It's not a bad idea to add a little extra length to account for trimming later on. Remember, you can always take away length, but you can’t add so it’s better to be generous. I went with 2 inches here

Next, using cardstock or cardboard, cut out a rectangle the size of the thistle you measured in the last step (2 in for me). Choose your color thread for the thistle fluff. I like using a mix of a dark and light purple to give it more depth 

Wrap your threads continuously around the rectangle. I don't have an exact amount of times for this, just whatever feels right. When finished, use a threaded needle to create a tie at the bottom of the wrap and keep all the threads together

After you've made the tie, use a sharp pair of scissors to cut through the opposite end of the wrap. When you remove it from the rectangle, you should have this sort of folded pompom. Keep all the loose ends pointing up and the tie at the bottom

Place the pompom on your fabric, lining the tie with the bottom of the bulb shape with the loose ends facing up towards the fan shape. Make a straight stitch across with green thread where the bulb shape starts to secure the pompom in place. Create a series of similar straight stitches to help guide the shape and keep the pompom in place. You want the stitches tight enough to be secure, but not so tight as to really alter the shape so be a little gentle here

Keep making straight stitches until the whole pompom is covered with your green thread. Things may get a little tricky towards the bottom, but just take your time and stitch carefully and you'll be able to cover it properly

With the body down, let's work on the fluff. Gently brush the sharp end of your needle through the threads to help them separate and disperse. At this point, you'll notice some uneven threads at the top of the fluff. Just use your scissors to cut them away until you have a nice smooth arc (this is where the extra length comes in handy). You can repeat these steps until everything is neat

Lastly, use some simple straight stitches to fill in the leaf shape at the bottom. This last detail is rather small so you don't need stress too much over it, just get the general look of it and you'll be golden

Et violà! I know that's a lot of information to take in, but take your time and practice and I promise you'll be making them effortlessly! I hope this tutorial has helped! Happy stitching!

[mayakern]

The only flaw with owning this many Maya Kern skirts is it is in genuine danger of over balancing my drying rack (there's 10 on that rack; left to right top to bottom: fig midi, snail midi, funeral mini, hiss with a rose (dark) midi, crystal sword mini (old manu defect batch), deadly florals mini (another old manu defect these two will be retired and repurposed this summer), desert sunset mini, scarlet mini, golden vines midi, and light thistles midi

I'm planning on doing a big photoshoot/ review of these in a couple weekends and was wondering where the best place to share that with y'all was (tumblr? Email? Store page? {I don't do Instagram or Facebook sorry}) ?

Also do you guys want to see alterations/rebuilds of your skirts?

HAHA i'm facing a similar situation. my closet is also in danger ever since i acquired more skirts, so i understand the pain..

omg that would be super cute and much appreciated! the best place to post a big photoshoot would probably be here on tumblr, but if you're willing to review on the website as well, that would be much appreciated!

and yes, we would love to see alterations/rebuilds as well! 🥰