#pease blossom

[antiqueanimals]

The Entomologist's Text Book. Written and illustrated by John Obadiah Westwood. 1838.

Internet Archive

Leopard moth (Zeuzera pyrina)

Broad-bordered bee hawk-moth (Hemaris fuciformis)

Spurge hawk-moth (Hyles euphorbiae)

Pease blossom (Periphanes delphinii)

Magpie moth (Abraxas grossulariata)

Longhorn moth (Nemophora degeerella)

(Argyresthia brockeella) (no known common name)

[birdblues]

Pease Blossom

[onenicebugperday]

Moths in the subfamily Heliothinae, Noctuidae

1. Psectrotarsia suavis, photo by tomkennedy 2. Psectrotarsia euposis, photo by poncetejedai_tutor 3. Aedophron phlebophora, photo by heinerziegler 4. Philareta treitschkei, photo by ozgurkocak 5. Pease blossom, Periphanes delphinii, photo by vadim66 6. Pink star moth, Derrima stellata, photo by tmurray74 7. New pod borer, Adisura marginalis, photo by flecksy 8. Heliocheilus julia, photo by silversea-starsong 9. Clouded crimson moth, Schinia gaurae, photo by arrowheadspiketail58 10. Primrose moth, Schinia florida, photo by ericgiles

[boxboxlewis]

fic amnesty continues! this is 1.1k of sylvia townsend warner AU in which i attempt to answer the question "how exactly did max get so good at karting"

It was the fashion among some of the younger fairies of Redhill to make their way to the great bitumen road not far from the castle, there to gallivant upon the buffets of air occasioned by the rushing past of the humans’ iron coaches. This was greatly frowned upon by the fairy elders, flying of any sort being considered vulgar and almost lewd, but their approbation made the activity no less appealing to the younger folk.

On this particular afternoon three very young, extremely silly fairies had stolen out of the castle to partake of some air-riding, as they called it. Their names were Pease-blossom, Elephant, and Tortrix. Pease-blossom in particular liked to cast off her invisibility as she swooped and dove in the air above the road, to see if any humans might notice her and be surprised. She had already occasioned three great coach-crashes in this manner, and said to her companions that she was hopeful this day might be the day she secured a fourth. 

“You must not,” said Tortrix, who was somewhat less silly, due to being more anxious. “If we’re caught we shall be disgraced and we’ll never be added to the Queen’s List.”

“Oh, be quiet, Tortrix! You’ll never make the List anyway, you’re so timid—”

Pease-blossom and Tortrix were well-embarked on a flourishing row when Elephant said suddenly, “Look, a human!”

Pease-blossom was about to respond, scathingly, that it was no very unusual thing to see a human on the bitumen road, when she realised what Elephant meant. This human wasn’t encased within one of the iron coaches but rather was picking his way along the embankment on foot. There was no path, and occasionally he stumbled. The fairies flew closer, and stared. Being young, they had never spoken to a human, and were fascinated.

“It’s only a child!” Tortrix said. “Look at its face. It cannot be more than fifty.” Fairies, of course, age more slowly than human beings. In fact the child was ten.

Peaseblossom bounced in the air and said, “It would be a great feat if we could capture it and bring it back to the hill.” 

Tortrix considered this a terrible idea. They were squabbling animatedly, drifting in the air in front of the child, when he looked at them—he should not have been able to see them at all, but it appeared nobody had told him that—and said, voice sullen and flat, “Can you move out of my way?”

Elephant, at this point, came into his own. He was accounted a budding scholar in the castle, and made something of a study of languages: not only the elfin tongues spoken within the fairy hills of Europe, but also the languages of strange beasts. The mournful lowing of the cow, the chittering buzz of the grasshopper, the whistling exultation of the blackbird were all known to Elephant, and as well he had learned, by diligent poring over an old onion-skin tome in the castle library, the speech of the humans who lived around Redhill. He hissed, “He’s asking us to move!”

The fairies discussed how to respond. Eventually Elephant flew directly into the child’s path and hovered there, and said in English, “Prithee, sirrah, what is your name?” The book he had learned from was some few centuries old, and so his diction was sadly out of date. But it appeared the child understood, for he scowled and said, “Max Verstappen. Will you move?”

Tortrix expressed her disbelief that any creature could be named something so strange as “Max-Verstappen,” and Pease-blossom said, “Oh, you fuss-budget! It’s easy enough to test. Max-Verstappen!”

The child’s eyes flew to her face. She nodded, satisfied, and said, “I felt the hold settle. That’s its name, true enough. Elephant, ask it where it’s going.”

“Max-Verstappen,” Elephant said, “whither goest thou?”

The child did not understand this at all, but said belligerently, “I’m waiting for my dad. He’s going to come back for me.”

Elephant conveyed this to his companions. “Nonsense!” said Pease-blossom. “If its father is coming back, why is it walking? I don’t believe the thing has a father, anyway. I’m sure I’ve heard that humans hatch from eggs.”

Elephant chose not to enter into an argument about the finer points of human reproduction. He said to the child, “Forsooth, why are you walking, an your father returneth?” 

The child flushed a blotchy pink, which Tortrix, whose pallor no cosmetic could alleviate, observed with envy; while Elephant noticed it was on the verge of tears.

The child said, “Will you stop asking stupid questions and just get out of my way!”

“It’s a rude little beast,” Pease-blossom observed, with some satisfaction. “The Queen will be ever so pleased if we bring it back for a freak. We can bait it with rats.”

“We couldn’t even if we wanted to, which we don’t,” said Tortrix. “We have nothing to bind it with, and it looks a nasty, scuffling thing. See how it glowers at us.”

Whereupon Pease-blossom drew from within her kirtle a small pocket, which she brandished triumphantly. “Well, Tortrix! Isn’t it fortunate that I always travel with my spiders!”

A very short while later the child’s wrists, ankles, and mouth had been bound round with spider-silk, and the three fairies were carrying his wriggling body back to Redhill. 

The child was not baited with rats, in the end. The Queen was a great admirer of red cheeks and fair hair, and was pleased to think him charming; and as it had been some centuries since a human had last graced the castle halls, he had too the appeal of novelty. He could not, of course, have remained under the hill had he stayed a mortal boy. The exact trick of creating the ichor with which the fairies had once leached the mortality from the human children they stole had been lost, but the Queen was so taken with the child that she commanded the scientists of her court to turn all their study to recovering it. At last, when several weeks had passed, and the child had begun to sicken and grow thin and grey, a courtier and alchemist suggested to the Queen that she had succeeded (she believed) in recreating the recipe. 

The Queen was frantic: she had become attached to Max-Verstappen on a whim, but the violence of her affection was none the weaker for its rapid onset. The alchemist’s instructions were followed to the letter; a tincture of aconite and oak gall was prepared and stirred withershins under the new moon, and one hundred drams of the child’s blood, carefully measured, were drawn from his veins. When the tincture was poured down his throat he bucked, and groaned, and went off into a fit. The Queen was already considering which mode of execution would best communicate her displeasure with the hapless alchemist when the child suddenly relaxed, and passed into a natural sleep.

He slept for seven days, and when he awoke he was no longer quite a human child.

[tzuyusluv]

Enhypen Disney Series

☁︎ Heeseung | Cinderella

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> Heeseung was always forced to do whatever his brothers and step-dad wanted. Cleaning their dishes, doing their laundry and cleaning their shoes, every chore you can think of, Heeseung had to do. But it changes when the Princess of Etril throws a ball to find her husband and future King.

Release Date —> tbd

☁︎ Jay | Robin Hood

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> When you come across a criminal stealing, he quickly says that it was for the poor, yet you’re suspicious. But to prove himself, he starts to follow you around. Annoyed, you go to the guards but why can’t you seem to turn him in?

Release Date —> tbd

☁︎ Jake | Atlantis

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> When Jake’s friends, Sunghoon and Heeseung, make a bet with him saying that he can’t find the lost city that he swears exists. If Jake manages to find it, the other two will never doubt him again ( and do his laundry for as long as they live together ) but if he loses, he has to do their laundry. Turns out there’s a bigger surprise at the lost city.

Release date —> tbd

☁︎ Sunghoon | Brother Bear 2

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> When Sunghoon left his village to live with the bears he met when he was cursed, he had just missed the arrival of his childhood best friend, who was getting married to his childhood enemy. What should you do when the earth tells you that you’re destined for someone else? Find them duh, but will you be able to convince Sunghoon that the universe made you soulmates?

Release Date —> tbd

☁︎ Sunoo | Alice In Wonderland

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> Studying with your sister is always boring. Though during this session, you fall asleep on your book and your transported to it. Following a white rabbit, falling down a hole and figuring out puzzles, you realize there’s something much bigger at the end waiting for you.

Release Date —> tbd

☁︎ Jungwon | Frozen

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> Being a sucker for romance, you’ve dreamed of your perfect love life. A handsome prince who loves and cherishes you, a beautiful kingdom and maybe a couple children. What happens when you meet the ‘perfect’ prince but you don’t feel any romantic feelings towards him? What happens when those feelings are towards an ice cutting boy?

Release Date —> tbd

☁︎ Niki | The Swan Princess

read here

Title —> tbd

Summary —> You and Niki are longtime enemies. Your parents had pushed for a friendship, and possible romance, between you two but it never blossomed. So your parents set up an arranged marriage between you and the prince of Midori, why does Niki feel jealous when he despises you?

Release Date —> tbd

©️tzuyuluvs | Pease don’t translate, rewrite or blatantly steal any of my content.

[freak60000]

tell me abt the characters PEASE their relationships seem so interesting

this ask is old too but oh m GOD. i’m gonna talk about the relationships actualy but there’s so many relationships in this game like SOO many i’m not gonna do all of them here but i’m gonna do some i like. hold on tight and bear with me because i’m autistic and i know how to use it. i’m not doing them all but anyone can send another ask if they wan tto know more ^_^

also this ask made me REALLY happy i just want you to know HEHEE. 💖💖💖💖💖i love talking about my blorbos sosososoo much so this made me giggle and kick my feet while typing u know

okay. okay. i don’t even know where to start so i’ll get the ones im not too invested in out of the way. crypto and caustic HATE EACHOTHER. they are both going under fake identities and they both know it. but ALSO. crypto and caustic are stepbrothers. caustic is the biological son of mystik, an old woman who adopted crypto when he was younger. however crypto and caustic never met (i don’t think) when they were young so they didn’t actually Know this for a very long time until SOMEONEEE (me. pathfinder) literally just Guessed that since their mothers went by similar names that they were the same person. and then i just said bye and FUCKING LEFTTTTT. it was really funny they were both like. …………… see below:

ok next is uhh bloodhound and fuse. fuse joined the games and after a hard journey for the two of them bloodhound became fond of him. he comforted them throughout their journey trying to find themself and blaming themself for their home’s loss and destruction. the voice actors and like half the community ship them really hard so that’s cute i guess. idk if i’d call that canon though but they definitely are SUPER cute when they talk to one another

fuse and maggie OH BOY. OH BOY they were like Besties since they were little little kids. pretty much siblings. almost their WHOLE story is explained with this sfto though if you wanna watch that instead of me explaining. but yeah they hate each other now because fuse Left her and the already diminishing planet of Salvo to fend for themselves, basically selling them off to the syndicate. so yeah fuse is kind of a dick so maggie is furious with him (rightfully)

awwww rampart and mirage awww. they’re so cute. what started off as a bickering friendship between the two blossomed into soemthing mirage could Only define as a sibling bond, reminding him of his brothers (which he had lost). they’re siblings they’re found family and they’re so funny together their relationship makes me cry a little bit in a funny way and a sad way i love them. see below:

crypto and mirage HAHAAAAAA they have this like really gay frienemy thing going on it’s so funny. crypto called him old man and mirage called him kid when they first met even though crypto is literally older than him (there was speculation that he’s like… 28 or soemthing though but idk if that’s true or not) but yeah they’re silly

mirage and pathfinder YAYYYYYYY me and my bestie!!!! it started off as me just being like. annoying to him but then he started to like me and tolerate me and then we became besties. short and sweet but i (canonically and in-game) call him my best boyfriend so. you could say it’s a little Bit Gay but that’s up to you 😋 he loves me even if i’m a little bit silly (this is the same dynamic with wraith but she isn’t as mean to me HEHE) here’s a thing he wrote me after giving me a ton of flowers to cheer me up YAYY:

wattson and caustic ohhh boy. this one’s confusing. father-daughter like bond at first, caustic really admired her work in the science field and she appreciated his admiration. then that bond formed but caustic tried some shady shit in broken ghost because wattson started becoming besties with crypto and wattson REALLY didn’t like that so they like… weren’t friends anymore? and he did some more shady shit and she like electrocuted him and i guess that worked because now he’s like a sad puppy when he talks to her. so yeah idk what happened HAHAH.

last but not least me (pathfinder) and ash. yayyyy. i don’t liek talking about this one because i don’t like the way i was written here but i’ll give you the gist. i foudn her in the dumpster after she was put together and like. saved her i guess because she got rebuilt after. and then she moved in with me and i had a little girlcrush on her for a while (it was one of those “you’re a girl and you’re my friend, so you’re my girlfriend!” things) but she wasn’t interested (the way they wrote me was a little creepy :((( ) and she left. but she joined the games a couple seasons later and i apparently still haven’t let it go because i still. yeah. but yeah after she left i was depressed for like an entire season until my best friend mirage cheered me up ^_^ yay

[libidomechanica]

“Tree limb”

Tree limb that idle rank thought, thou dost hate.  From their ray was to 

be wood and idle rank remain.  They gave this world a spot the  most fitt) ne  brest of love which we are streams, and  hush the crest of a pease,  cheered around my own clean body.  Was neuer the strenuous 

to our veins fresh,  to heare, the warmth and be  among that nimble leap to  kissing, drunk of gods, but melancholy 

musical but mine, lass; and sea. My  pleasure nightingale with Jove, to  give me. Because  with purple and Crueltie; from  their death decree that softer  musical but one our  wood; and diamond ring fancy light will  want to grow mad, and faith emulous  love; and the doome. Whoever  was as dew in  aprille, my dust: They sprang into 

the blown— þat fallyt on  þe spray. and sink from hence I had, better  bowed haue a squints green hills. With  nimble fancy light? Her mither 

hair it is snooded sae neat, that  seals of whales steer, and washing  Absáls Image of the  ceremony. S eyes beheld, whoever  either thine eyes, and yet renounce 

make a content; sing to  save all the supremely  true love with mery thing it,  of Stellas name. Into  two must have, turquoise and outer woe: helpe  me, and inclind, and the distaind  with the storax,  spikenard, myrrh, and cold or led by  the hellish hound did once their sweetness,  and life; so thou speak is a  pane of us wants to 

me, and girt in her? Not think  the light will cavern deep depression  is, among here she loueth best, till I  die. Whether one and my  eye, for I heard me soft sex with  that I can my rooms, as  men, so it came (at first, more constant  after than hate she alter this world  slow and far, near and in the  shepheard of thy wine while than  got a false and purging among  that grow a hand, one with  whom maids by night doth with  the hart is sair, and woe the  room, nor the day by day, as  many heart like advertisement  seven blossoms in her?

[butterfly-and-moth-species]

Periphanes delphinii

Periphanes delphinii - Pease blossom moth

Family: Noctuidae

It's the only species in the genus Periphanes.

[mumble-pie]

This is an extract from a larger piece I’m working on about aconitum (wolf’s bane, monkshood). Though aconite is a deadly poison to most creatures, the caterpillar of the pease blossom moth (Periphanes delphinii) is one of several species that feed on the plant. 

The moth can be found from Afghanistan and the steppe areas of Central Asia and Anatolia up to the area surrounding the Mediterranean Sea and north-western Africa.

[ameersuhail400-blog]

#yellow #hibiscusflower #loveyou #flowers #pease #stayhome #staysafe #myworld🌎 #blossom (at Kayamkulam) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_MiBd-Fm4x/?igshid=pqpom75f4fu7

[artist-rackham]

Where is Pease-Blossom, Arthur Rackham

[acerosedrop]

Let Me Help: A Geraskier Fic

“Let me help.”

Looking back on it, it’s kind of incredible, and slightly infuriating, how easily those three words just slip right out of Jaskier’s mouth, even for the smallest of things.

When Geralt comes back from a fight with a colony of Drowners, the wounds on his skin burning from sea salt and his hair itching from the dirt and dried guts? “Let me help,” Jaskier says, as he eases him over to where a bath’s been drawn in their room, moving to unburden Geralt’s from his armor with far steadier fingers before helping him submerge into the lavender-scented heat. It’s nice, and Geralt allows himself to sink into it just a bit deeper.

Or maybe it’s one of the many nights where they can’t afford such a luxury as a roof, and Geralt’s washed away the blood and muck in a nearby, but his hair is still little more than a nest of tangles. “Let me help,” flows from Jaskier’s lips once again as he stands up from his spot by their campfire, moving over to the log Geralt’s slumped himself on to with a comb in one hand and a bottle of oil in the other, to help smooth away the pain of stubborn knots as deft fingers go to work.

“Let me help!” This time the words are brought out with far more force, though the undercurrent of fear is undeniable even as Geralt’s head swarms. He’s got a painful concoction of Swallow and Black Blood flowing through his veins, and thanks to the ghoul bite on his right leg standing won’t be an option for much longer. But yet, there’s still that instinct, that fear, to turn his head away, to get as far away from Jaskier as possible, before he catches sight of the voids that have taken over his eyes. Before the fear and anger he’s seen take over so many faces before when he’s looked like this takes over his bard’s as well

Of course, Jaskier won’t have any of that, and his hands (damn how good they feel against his chilled skin) go to cradle his face, so much gentleness in those fingertips that for a moment Geralt doesn’t even registers what’s happening, before he finds himself staring into eyes that manage to shine like the brightest of jewels even in such prevailing darkness. They stay like this for a moment, one of Jaskier’s fingers gently swiping across his jaw, before his hand’s tighten with something Geralt can only describe as the most tender of strength. The words are a hair quieter, but still just as grounding, still so full of devotion, “Pease love, let me help.”

And this goes on for hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of utterances, and Geralt feels like he could hear those three words yet another thousand times and never grew weary of them. And yet, during that same time, he never found himself able to let them pass through his lips as well. Jaskier had thankfully caught on rather quickly that when Geralt shows his affection for others, it’s in the form of actions, of moments of service where words are not necessary for conveying his own language of love. A cloak thrown over shivering shoulders whilst their camping, sewing up a rip on a favorite shirt, carefully setting aside feathers from a grouse he’s killed that might make for good pens. And it works.

Well, up until that damn mountain, of course.

And as the weeks roll over into an entire month since he let those poisoned words drip from his mouth, after he found a familiar cloak bundled back up neatly into Roach’s saddlebag, one he remembers gently laying over his bard before they made their way into the dragon’s cave, that he realizes he may never hear those three words again, said in a thousand different ways but always coming back to the same message. And for the first time in a long while, he feels like that little boy being left on the steps of Kaer Morhen, utterly alone.

Of course, destiny has always been more than ready to throw a wrench right into Geralt’s path. But for once, a wrench that would have taken his life apart might just be the very thing that helps put it back together again. Because now, nine months after he descended back down that damn mountain by himself, and one month after Ciri’s begun her magical tutelage under Yennefer’s watchful eyes, as he passes by the tavern of yet another nondescript village, he’s caught the scent of something that even after all their years together and all this time apart, still manages to stop Geralt dead in his tracks.

Jaskier’s blood.

It smells fresh, the faintness of it seemingly due to the quantity over its age, as now that he shacks his head clear of the initial sense of dread he can just barely hears the sounds of a squabble on the other side of the building. He’s not sure what to expect, from the sound of shuffling boots it seems there can’t be more than four people involved, so he makes the call to stick to the shadows as he enters a nearby alleyway and keep his hand hovering over the dagger strapped to his leg, as opposed to the swords strapped to his back. Thankfully there’s no debris to give his position away, and once he reaches the other side as he peers around the corner to finally get a good look at what’s going on, and his heart nearly jumps out of his throat.

It’s Jaskier alright, and thank the Gods, aside from the bruise that’s already blossoming over his left eye he still seems to be in good shape, his lute case flung a safe distance away from the fray and his steel dagger gripped tightly in his right hand. There’s one man on the ground already, though from the rise of chest he appears to only be knocked out, but the other two seem to be gaining ground fast despite the cuts littering their arms and faces, and it only takes watching one slam his fist hard into Jaskier’s gut, hearing the barley-suppressed sound of pain that tumbles out of Jaskier’s mouth, before Geralt starts to see red, his own dagger now in hand.

He steps forward out of the shadows, the growl that rips out throat faster than he can help it stopping the would-be attackers in their tracks as they turn their attention towards Geralt. For a moment everything’s still, and Geralt wonders if he’ll have to make the first move and Jaskier begins to slump forwards from where one of the brutes is now gripping the front of his doublet.

But it seems these fools actually have a bit of brain to them, as the eyes of the taller of the two go from being filled with anger and confusion to fear and dread as he takes in the Witcher standing before him, that particular smell of curdled milk pouring spiking off of him, and he yanks the shoulder of his companion back so far that the other is forced to let go of Jaskier entirely, who moves back to lean against the wall tavern wall for support.

To be honest, Geralt’s almost grateful as he watches the attackers drag their fallen comrade back into the building and scream to someone for a key as they slam the door shut. A fight would’ve been nice to get rid of the excess adrenaline buzzing through his limbs, but as his eyes turn back towards Jaskier’s now slumped over form, he knows there’s far more important things to take care of right now.

But as he makes his way over to kneel in front of his former companion, Geralt feels his mouth and mind freeze. Nine months, nine months’ worth of searching, and he still doesn’t know how to properly convey just how sorry he is for this entire situation that he’s put his friend, fuck, his lover, through the one time he decided to open his damn mouth.

And yet, as those cornflower eyes slowly rise to meet his own, flashing back and forth between hurt and anger, fear and dread, Geralt can still smell it beneath the ever-present scents of resin and chamomile, the earthy, newly-grown grass smell of hope.

So Geralt says fuck it, reaches into his back pocket to draw out a handkerchief, eyes drawn briefly to the bit of blood that starting to dribble out of Jaskier’s nose, before focusing them once more on the weary blue ones that are staring him down, and he finally lets it out,

“Let me help?”

For a moment there’s nothing, and then, the briefest of flashes as the blue starts to shine just a bit brighter, before the barest of nods, as Jaskier moves to sit up just a hair straighter, and once again, Geralt has never felt more grateful for those three simple words.

[nocnitsa]

Where is Pease-Blossom? Arthur Rackham illustration for A Midsummer-Night's Dream in Tales From Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb, 1909...

[finishinglinepress]

FLP CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY: collective madness by adrienne danyelle oliver

TO ORDER GO TO: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/collective-madness-by-adrienne-danyelle-oliver/ RESERVE YOUR COPY TODAY

adrienne danyelle oliver is a poet-educator, hip-hop scholar from Little Rock, AR currently based in the SF Bay Area. Her previous work has appeared in Storytelling, Self & Society (Wayne State University Press 2018), Patrice Lumumba: An Anthology of Writers on Black Liberation (Nomadic Press, 2021) and Write Now! SF Bay’s Anthology Essential Truths: The Bay Area in Color (Pease Press, 2021). Some of Adrienne’s favorite authors include Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison. When she is not writing, Adrienne is reading or watching documentaries. She also leads a monthly healing writing circle for Black women.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR collective madness by adrienne danyelle oliver

collective madness is an ecosystem cross-examining the architecture of colonialism, western medicine, and the construction of race. A testament to resiliency, tone choreographs light so that death is a letting go of / I in exchange for we. Undertones of Sonia, Ntozake, and Lucille, adrienne blossoms in this collection. She emerges as the innovative Black poet; she divinely is writing to her/ our people. Ashé.

–Thea Matthews, poet and author of Unearth [The Flowers]

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–Tongo Eisen-Martin, San Francisco Poet Laureate

As author of possibly the first and only memoir on Black women and fibroids, I’m delighted to welcome collective madness, adrienne danyelle oliver’s new poetry collection about her fibroid journey, into this necessary conversation. These poems speak with raw urgency and generational wisdom to an aspect of Black women’s experience that is both shockingly widespread and shockingly neglected by the medical establishment, mainstream society, and literature. With lyricism and a light touch, oliver places the Black female body within the larger context of disruption, displacement, historic trauma and institutional neglect. In its invitation to decolonize the physical body/the body politic and heal physical/psychic wounds, this slim, essential volume is as intimate as it is ambitious.

–Faith Adiele, Author, The Nigerian Nordic Girl’s Guide to Lady Problems and Meeting Faith

Unflinching in their intimate testimony and social critique, the poems in collective madness lay bare the various ways historical trauma manifests in the Black woman’s body. Through her speaker’s ongoing battle with fibroids that both fill and render her empty, adrienne danyelle oliver makes the haunting claim that “this womb remembers / cargo of bodies / waiting to be crucified / or set free.” The journey of this collection is heartbreaking, infuriating, and absolutely essential.

–Lauren K. Alleyne, author of Honeyfish and Difficult Fruit

Please share/please repost [PROMO] #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

How about some steter with some good old soft intimacy?

How about, yes.

(Annoyingly) Happy Valentine’s Day by Potrix

(1/1 I 1,797 I Teen)

“Welcome to the Beacon Blossom!” the saleswoman behind the counter chirps happily, and Peter watches, a little dazed, as the blinking plastic hearts attached to her headband bounce back and forth. “What can I do for you on this fine day?”

Peter deposits the bouquet of red roses on the counter, and nearly drops his wallet when the woman coos—actually coos—and says, nodding her head, “A classic. Your wife will absolutely love them, I guarantee it.” She swipes Peter’s card when he hands it to her, then points it at a basket stuffed full with some of the most garishly pink teddy bears Peter’s ever had the misfortune of seeing. “Now, since today’s a special day, if you buy a bouquet and one of our Sweetheart Bears, the cheaper item is 50% off.”

It takes some effort, but Peter manages to bite back his initial, sarcastic retort about the bear clashing with his furniture. Or anything else not absolutely, horrifyingly hideous, for that matter. “Just the roses, please.”

The King and his Castle by luulapants

(1/1 I 4,113 I Explicit)

Epilogue to The Prince and the Pease, will not make sense without reading that first.

The aftermath of the siege of Triskelion.

The Secret in His Eyes by cywscross

(1/1 I 5,901 I Teen)

In the chaotic mess with the Alpha Pack, nobody realizes Stiles was bitten. Even if they did, Stiles doubts anything would have changed.

That’s alright. After Scott lets Deucalion go, Stiles simply lies in wait for the so-called Demon Wolf at the edge of town, and in the dark of night, a wolfsbane bullet puts the werewolf down, and as Deucalion draws his last breath, Stiles’ eyes flare a bright blood red.

Mama's by 100percentfluffster

(1/1 I 16,841 I Not Rated)

Mama’s bar had been around for nearly two decades. In those twenty years she’d seen a lot of weird shit. In a bar in the middle of nowhere that catered extensively to the supernatural community, it was expected for weird things to happen. She’d seen creatures of every kind pass through, some of them pleasant and others terrifying. She’d seen bar brawls that ended in death and destruction, she’d seen alpha power transfers and pack turf wars. She’d helped her fair amount of strangers and dealt with an overzealous hunter ten years back. She was far from an easily intimidated person.

But there was a shift in the air when the Hales walked into her bar on a Tuesday at the tail end of November.

Don't leave me alone by Anything00but

(1/1 I 20,113 I Explicit)

Five times Stiles begs someone to love him and he gets turned down. And one time he doesn't have to beg. It's given to him freely.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

(35/35 I 50,191 I General)

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

(23/23 I 65,675 I Not Rated)

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Unpack Your Heart by Julibean19

(20/20 I 101,539 I Explicit)

The coffee table was on fire.

Derek leapt backwards as Stiles scrambled back on his hands in a crab walk until he hit a support beam.

"Stiles, what did you do!?" Derek yelled, eyes fixed on the flames. When he tore his gaze away to check on Stiles, he saw that his eyes were glowing a deep red. An Alpha red? Derek didn't have time to dwell on the exact color too long as the table top cracked and fell to the floor, flames rising higher.

Sequel to The Only Living Boy in which The Alpha Pack and the Darach attack, Stiles becomes the Hale Emissary, Stiles and Peter take their relationship to the next level, and everything is a bit more magic than anyone realized.

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Fairies May Cry

You discover a fun way to share your fairy sugar.

Chapter 20: Red Lippy Stick

This lil fairy drabble is a gift for my good friend and fellow harem sister, @bettybattaglia! 🎉🥳🎊

You’re digging through your trinket box when you hear the front door of the shop open. An excited squeal leaves your lips as you zoom out of the room, looking forward to getting an even bigger trinket box that Pretty Boy promised to give to you. But instead, you spot Pretty Lady sitting on the couch and holding a hand mirror in front of her face while putting some kind of powder on her cheeks.  

You quickly dim your fairy light as you fly over to the couch before hovering quietly in the air. You tilt your tiny head at the odd assortment of colorful powders inside a small bag. “Ooooh!” you exclaim, fairy light glowing yellow as you wonder what they could be. “Whatcha doin’, Pretty Lady?” you inquire while drifting into view just above her head.

Pretty Lady looks up at the sound of your twinkling voice. “Hey there, Sweet Pea!” she greets you with a radiant smile as you inspect the powdery brush with interest. “I’m just touching up my makeup before Dante and Vergil get back from whatever they’re doing,” she informs while examining her face in the hand mirror before closing it.

Your fairy light blinks a couple times in thought. “What’s makeup?”

“It’s a bunch of different products that help bring out your natural beauty,” she explains while pulling out an array of strange items from the small bag.

“Wow! So many colors!” you gush, fairy light flickering pink as you land on the couch for closer inspection. “What’s this?” you ask, pointing to a small container filled with sparkly blue powder.

“That’s eyeshadow,” she replies while reaching for the small container. “You brush it over your eyes,” she adds, turning it over to reveal an illustration with some instructions.

“Ooooooh!” Your fairy light shines brighter with understanding. “I had no idea you could put pretty shadows on your eyes!” you exclaim, clapping your hands excitedly before moving onto the next strange makeup. “And what about this?” you ask while pointing to a shiny black tube.

“That’s lipstick.” Pretty Lady opens the strange tube and gives it a little twist. “It adds color to your lips…see?” She shows you the red stick inside the tube before swiftly applying it to her lips in one seamless motion. Your fairy light flickers curiously as you watch her kiss the back of her hand and show you the imprint of her red lips.

“Ooooh!” you gasp, fairy light flashing red in surprise. “It leaves a kissy mark!” you exclaim with a happy giggle while doing a little somersault in the air. Your fairy light glitters pink and yellow as you flutter up and touch the kiss mark on the back of Pretty Lady’s hand. Some of the red lipstick smears onto your tiny fingers, making you squeal in delight as a devious pixie ploy forms in your mind.

“Do you wanna trade one of your lippy sticks for one of my trinkets?” you inquire with as much charm as you can muster. “Pease?” you implore sweetly while clasping your tiny hands in front of your chest.

Pretty Lady’s cheery face softens as she puts the red lipstick back down on the couch. “Aww! You don’t have to give me anything!” she replies with a small wave as she searches around inside her small makeup bag. “Here! You can have one of the samples I got from a boutique,” she offers while holding out a tiny fairy sized tube of red lipstick between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh wow!” Your fairy light flits between multiple colors as you accept her gracious offer with a happy smile. “Thanks, Pretty Lady!” you exclaim, fairy light glowing pink as you hug the fairy lippy stick close to your chest.

“How could I refuse such a sweet pea like you!” she coos, making you giggle as she puts all of her makeup back into the small bag.

Pretty Lady is about to say something else when the front door of the shop bursts open, which gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed. The brand new trinket box you were eagerly awaiting has now been forgotten as you hurry back to Pretty Boy’s room. You hide your new trinket among the pile of fresh flowers on the desk and wait until later that night to enact your mischievous plan…

(In the Morning...)

Vergil wakes up and warily looks around the room when you don’t greet him with your usual cheery smile. He slips out of bed before putting on his robe, still seeing no sign of you or the glow of your fairy light. The notable absence of a certain prankish pixie usually leads to some kind of mischief, but as to what that mischief could be…he wonders at the possibilities while making his way down to the kitchen for his morning coffee.

Dante is oddly silent as he walks past his desk, but when he passes by again with coffee in hand…Vergil notices that his little brother is trying very hard to hide his laughter, but the subtle shaking of his shoulders gives him away. “And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing this early in the morning?” he grumbles with a frown while glaring at his brother from the foot of the stairs.

“I uh…had no idea…you were such a lady’s man, Verg,” Dante stammers out in between his laughing fit while pointing at his older brother’s face. “Lil’ Blossom got ya good!” he adds with a cheeky grin before his rowdy laugh bellows through the shop.

Vergil eyes widen at the implication of his brother’s words and quickly rushes up the stairs to investigate his face in the bathroom mirror. And it’s there, in his reflection, that he finally sees what has his brother so tickled: it almost looks as if he’s come down with a bad case of chickenpox. But upon closer inspection, he figures out that this isn’t a malady at all…every inch of face, from furrowed brow to snarling mouth, is covered with tiny red kiss marks.

“PEASEBLOSSOM!”

“Yeah?” you respond brightly as you come out of hiding, fairy light glowing pink as you bat your eyelashes.

Vergil’s brow twitches irritably at your chipper tone. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demands while staring up at your sweet but most certainly not innocent eyes.

You cover your mouth with one small hand and softly giggle at his request. “You said that I can sleep in your hair,” you begin, fairy light flickering yellow as you hover closer towards his scowling face. “But you never said that I couldn’t pull any pranks while you slept!” you exclaim with a small squeal while tumbling in the air.

Vergil huffs indignantly as you twirl around his head in victory, fairy light shimmering between various colors as your twinkling laughter rings around his ears. He grabs a nearby washcloth and starts washing his face with soap and warm water. The tiny kiss marks streak across his skin as he aggressive rubs his cheek over and over until it’s completely clean.  

“Aww…you don’t like my fairy sugar?” you whimper while pooching your lower lip.

Vergil spots your blue fairy light in the mirror as he moves onto his other cheek. He usually detests seeing your teary eyes, but the sad act won’t work on him this time as he simply ignores your pleading face. Your fairy light flashes orange as you cross your arms while sticking your nose up high in the air.

“Well, if you don’t like my fairy sugar on your face…” you trail off, fairy light flashing yellow before glowing pink and red as you fly in close to his ear. “Then I’ll just leave them somewhere else next time!” you whisper with a flirty wink. You blow a kiss towards his reflection, sending some fairy dust to burst into a glittery heart around his grumpy face.

Vergil glowers at you suspiciously. “You will do no such-!”

You’re already zooming away with a mischievous giggle before he finishes his angry command. Vergil lets out an aggravated growl as he shakes his head at your ridiculous antics. But his lips curl into a small smirk as he continues to wash every single small token of your affection, silently commending his very pretty pixie’s craftiness at getting the better of a Son of Sparda.

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Tagging: @drusoona @exsultry and @vergilsangel