#ways to controlling pests in plants

[gardenholic]

8 Best Organic Ways to Control Pests in the Home Garden

Pests are a gardener’s worst nightmare. They damage and destroy once healthy plants within a short period, ruining all of your hard work. Many pests are resistant to conventional treatments, which is why learning organic pest prevention methods are essential. Preventing garden pests needs to be the prime focus for all gardeners, regardless of whether you practice organic gardening. We know that…

[gaytobymeres]

i could not work in an arboretum/as an arboriculturist because its like 'here are lots of really old and culturally/conservationally valuable trees, please keep them alive also here are five hundered million bajillion pests which can kill all of these trees + theres no cure for most of them + for some diseases you have to remove all the trees in one particular genus. sorry.'

[snekdood]

killing someone/something should be your very VERY last option it should be the thing you avoid so much that you try to find ANYTHING ELSE that you can do.

[wanderingxiao]

BEOO PLSS WANDERER FACESITTING READER IM GOING INSANE

Overstimulating Him

Wanderer x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: Oral (Male Receiving), ass eating, Fem! Dom, Subby Wanderer, he’s practically a slut, cursing, and ya know… 18+ only!

A/N: A couple people actually requested a part two to Wanderer’s thigh appreciation post 👀 Well! Here it is! Having Wanderer plant his lovely non-existent butt on your face! I mean… he can always sit on my face too 💙 enjoy!

Wanderer’s thighs trembled harshly beside your head, the heat of his face feeling as if he was about to burst into flames. The entirety of his face was flushed in embarrassment. Sweat beaded on his forehead, the soft silk of his indigo bangs sticking to his skin from the precipitate. His lips parted slowly, a shaky sigh leaving his artificial lungs when he felt your warm breath fan over the flesh of his ass.

“Just… g-get on with it, pest…” Your hand came to smack his ass, making his hips jerk forward, moaning at the sting against his butt. His twitching, oozing cock bumped against your face, making you laugh at such a lewd display from the ever so stoic and lonely Wanderer. “Last I checked… you weren’t the one in control here, Wanderer. Now be a good boy, and plant this lovely ass in my face. Now.”

This was so humiliating, but god was it a turn on. His thighs were already littered with your love bites, his cock twitching and shiny with your saliva from the generous blowjob you had given him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his bottom to your face, his body shuddering when your hands came to grab at his ass. He could feel you spreading his ass apart, blowing teasingly on his tight hole of muscle.

“St-Stop teasing!” His thighs got tighter around your head, his body becoming resistant to the idea of your tongue inside him. His eyes snapped open feeling the flat of your tongue circle his tight hole, his hands flying to your hair to grip it. His body hunched over you, thighs squeezing your head harshly while his breathing became sharp and ragged. “W-Wait- Hah?!”

Your tongue flicked back and forth over his hole, running teasing circles, your hands beginning to knead his asscheeks in your hands. Wanderer let out a shaky moan, his chest becoming tight with how hard his breathing had gotten. His anxiety was beginning to reach all new highs. How could you do something like this? Wasn’t this what humans consider unsanitary? Was it okay since he was an artificial being? A puppet?

His thoughts were cut off as his back arched with a loud cry coming from his wet mouth. Saliva pooled within his mouth, drool beginning to build against his lips threatening to slip down his chin. Your tongue entered him, feeling the ridges and curls of his insides. The feeling drove the divine puppet crazy. It was so warm, it was almost as addicting as having your tongue swirl around his cock.

“A-Ahh, f-feels good… k-keep going…” His body began to relax slowly, his scrumptiously plush thighs coming to settle beside your head again. He could feel a gaze stuck on him, but he was too scared to look down at you. The way you would make eye contact with him, his dripping cock between your eyes with his balls resting against your nose. “N-No… don’t look at me, hah, don’t l-look at me, ngh!”

You didn’t respond to him, only deciding to thrust your tongue in and out of his hole, making him twitch and writhe above you. Drool finally dribbled down his chin, his adam’s apple bobbing thickly as he tried to swallow all the saliva building within his mouth. His fingers curled in your hair, pulling slightly to have a feeling of support.

Wanderer couldn’t help but begin to buck his hips against your face, his body succumbing to the pleasure. Any anxiety or insecurities about the act disappearing at the feeling of hot pleasure washing over his body. Sensing he was beginning to enjoy it a bit too much, you pulled your tongue out and teased your fingers against him.

“H-Hey! What do you think you’re- Ahh?! Hah~…” You slipped one of your fingers inside him, moving it slowly to look up at his expressions. God did he look like such a whore, sitting there and moaning while his cute little ass was teased and tongue fucked. “You’re a slut you know that, Wanderer? You’re so weak to pleasure… it surprises me you’re not out here throwing yourself at everyone.”

“Shut it!” He snapped, his eyes finally casting down to look at your face. His chest began to feel tight at the sight of affection and adoration written on your face. Despite your words, you only wanted Wanderer to yourself. His cheeks burned brighter, his eyes tearing away from yours to moan loudly when a second finger entered him. “P-Pest! I-I hate you!”

“Mhm, sure you do baby.” You grinned, peppering kisses over his taint and up to his bslls where your tongue curled around his scrotum. His body twitched, pre-cum dripping onto your forehead and into your hair as you sucked one of his balls into your mouth to suck while you fingered him. His moans increased, his fingers pulling on your hair while his thighs began to crush your head again. “Wait! Wait!!! It’s t-too mu- Hah! Ahhh! Can’t- ngh! Can’t take it! T-Too- hah! -sensitive! I can’t! I’m cu- ugh! Cumming! Cumming!”

You pushed your fingers deeper inside him, spurred on by his frantic movements and his loud uncontainable moans. He couldn’t even get a sentence out at this point. His chest was heaving, if he were human he would’ve hyperventilated by this point. He couldn’t control the feeling of intense sensitivity and bliss. He was utterly overwhelmed.

“Hah! Ahh! Ahh! No! Stop! Hah, hah! Ahhnn!!” Wanderer came with a loud moan, his hips bucking against your face, feeling the friction of your fingers deep inside him and your mouth sucking against his balls so blissfully. His cum spurted into your hair, coating the once silky strands with his dirty release. After he came down from his high, he shakily fell beside you, his legs now wobbly from the mind-numbing orgasm. “Cant… do… a-anymore.”

“Shh, hush baby.” You groaned softly, pushing your hair back and coming to kiss his sweaty forehead. Wanderer let out a trembly sigh at your affection and leaned against your chest, relishing in the soft plushness of your breasts and the welcoming feeling of your body heat. “You did so good. Good job baby.” Your fingers threaded through hair soothingly, calming down his overstimulated body to relax in your touch.

“Rest for now. Cause later…” You lifted his chin and kissed his lips. “I’ll claim you for real down there~”

Tbh… slutty subby Wanderer is fucking hot. 💙

[elminx]

Witch Tip: Pay Attention to Your Protection Magic

Items that you use in your protection spells become a part of your protection. Not just the pieces that you put into your spellwork, that spirit as a whole.

Let's just say that I was protecting with basil (I know that is not the best protection plant, lol, but I'm being consistent and using basil as my forever example). If I had a basil plant that I was growing in my house and it suddenly start dying, I would immediately want to check and make sure that wasn't a sign that something had tried to breach my protections.

There are always mundane reasons that a plant starts dying (not enough or too much water or light and pest pressures) but that doesn't mean that it still isn't a sign. You should see to your plant but then also do some divination to look into things.

I get that "this could be a sign" must be the most frustrating thing to inexperienced witches but also to overly anxious witches.

But here's the thing, anxiety - if well controlled - has some evolutionary advantages. If you are actually looking out for things, you notice what is going on. Some people could have all of the signs of their protection being attacked and they would never notice. Congratulations, you pay attention. Now double-check that it's not something you did (like gross negligence in watering your plant is not a sign) or a story that you made up because you're emotionally dysregulated.

I also want to clarify that seeing a random robin when you have no connection to robins is almost certainly NOT a sign whereas my basil plant is suddenly dying for no reason when you use basil as one of the primary ingredients in your protection spells is more likely a sign.

Do you see what I am putting down here?

This is obviously a ton of UPG (why do I have to say that - all fucking magic was once somebody's UPG) but whether you realize it or not, you are interacting with the Spirit of basil every time that you use basil in a spell. And if you used basil for protection - even if you hadn't used the basil from the plant growing in your kitchen (say its brand new, for example) - then the Spirit of basil has to take some of the brunt of any attack on you and it will be reflected in the plant in your kitchen.

That is, by the way, one of the benefits of using plants that you grow yourself in your protection magic but, also, it is also the disadvantage of using the plants that you grow in your protection magic.

It's really quite scary to watch your plant eat a spell. You have to be ready to watch that plant die.

[thedansemacabres]

Introduction To Supporting Sustainable Agriculture For Witches and Pagans

[ID: An image of yellow grain stocks, soon to be harvested. The several stocks reach towards a blurred open sky, focusing the camera on he grains themselves. The leaves of the grains are green and the cereals are exposed].

PAGANISM AND WITCHCRAFT ARE MOVEMENTS WITHIN A SELF-DESTRUCTIVE CAPITALIST SOCIETY. As the world becomes more aware of the importance of sustainability, so does the duty of humanity to uphold the idea of the steward, stemming from various indigenous worldviews, in the modern era. I make this small introduction as a viticulturist working towards organic and environmentally friendly grape production. I also do work on a food farm, as a second job—a regenerative farm, so I suppose that is my qualifications. Sustainable—or rather regenerative agriculture—grows in recognition. And as paganism and witchcraft continue to blossom, learning and supporting sustainability is naturally a path for us to take. I will say that this is influenced by I living in the USA, however, there are thousands of groups across the world for sustainable agriculture, of which tend to be easy to research.

So let us unite in caring for the world together, and here is an introduction to supporting sustainable/regenerative agriculture. 

A QUICK BRIEF ON SUSTAINABLE AGRICULTURE 

Sustainable agriculture, in truth, is a movement to practise agriculture as it has been done for thousands of years—this time, with more innovation from science and microbiology especially. The legal definition in the USA of sustainable agriculture is: 

The term ”sustainable agriculture” (U.S. Code Title 7, Section 3103) means an integrated system of plant and animal production practices having a site-specific application that will over the long-term:

A more common man’s definition would be farming in a way that provides society’s food and textile needs without overuse of natural resources, artificial supplements and pest controls, without compromising the future generation’s needs and ability to produce resources. The agriculture industry has one of the largest and most detrimental impacts on the environment, and sustainable agriculture is the alternative movement to it. 

Sustainable agriculture also has the perk of being physically better for you—the nutrient quality of crops in the USA has dropped by 47%, and the majority of our food goes to waste. Imagine if it was composted and reused? Or even better—we buy only what we need. We as pagans and witches can help change this. 

BUYING ORGANIC (IT REALLY WORKS)

The first step is buying organic. While cliche, it does work: organic operations have certain rules to abide by, which excludes environmentally dangerous chemicals—many of which, such as DDT, which causes ecological genocide and death to people. Organic operations have to use natural ways of fertilising, such as compost, which to many of us—such as myself—revere the cycle of life, rot, and death. Organic standards do vary depending on the country, but the key idea is farming without artificial fertilisers, using organic seeds, supplementing with animal manure, fertility managed through management practices, etc. 

However, organic does have its flaws. Certified organic costs many, of which many small farmers cannot afford. The nutrient quality of organic food, while tending to be better, is still poor compared to regeneratively grown crops. Furthermore, the process to become certified organic is often gruelling—you can practise completely organically, but if you are not certified, it is not organic. Which, while a quality control insurance, is both a bonus and a hurdle. 

JOINING A CSA

Moving from organic is joining a CSA (“Community supported agriculture”). The USDA defines far better than I could: 

Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), one type of direct marketing, consists of a community of individuals who pledge support to a farm operation so that the farmland becomes, either legally or spiritually, the community’s farm, with the growers and consumers providing mutual support and sharing the risks and benefits of food production.

By purchasing a farm share, you receive food from the farm for the agreed upon production year. I personally enjoy CSAs for the relational aspect—choosing a CSA is about having a relationship, not only with the farmer(s), but also the land you receive food from. I volunteer for my CSA and sometimes I get extra cash from it—partaking in the act of caring for the land. Joining a CSA also means taking your precious capital away from the larger food industry and directly supporting growers—and CSAs typically practise sustainable and/or regenerative agriculture. 

CSAs are also found all over the world and many can deliver their products to food deserts and other areas with limited agricultural access. I volunteer from time to time for a food bank that does exactly that with the produce I helped grow on the vegetable farm I work for. 

FARM MARKETS AND STALLS 

Another way of personally connecting to sustainable agriculture is entering the realm of the farm stall. The farmer’s market is one of my personal favourite experiences—people buzzing about searching for ingredients, smiles as farmers sell crops and products such as honey or baked goods, etc. The personal connection stretches into the earth, and into the past it buries—as I purchase my apples from the stall, I cannot help but see a thousand lives unfold. People have been doing this for thousands of years and here I stand, doing it all over again. 

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Farmers’ markets are dependent on your local area, yet in most you can still develop personal community connections. Paganism often stresses community as an ideal and a state of life. And witchcraft often stresses a connection to the soil. What better place, then, is purchasing the products from the locals who commune with the land? 

VOLUNTEERING 

If you are able to, I absolutely recommend volunteering. I have worked with aquaponic systems, food banks, farms, cider-making companies, soil conservation groups, etc. There is so much opportunity—and perhaps employment—in these fields. The knowledge I have gained has been wonderful. As one example, I learned that fertilisers reduce carbon sequestration as plants absorb carbon to help with nutrient intake. If they have all their nutrients ready, they do not need to work to obtain carbon to help absorb it. This does not even get into the symbiotic relationship fungi have with roots, or the world of hyphae. Volunteering provides community and connection. Actions and words change the world, and the world grows ever better with help—including how much or how little you may provide. It also makes a wonderful devotional activity. 

RESOURCING FOOD AND COOKING 

Buying from farmers is not always easy, however. Produce often has to be processed, requiring labour and work with some crops such as carrots. Other times, it is a hard effort to cook and many of us—such as myself—often have very limited energy. There are solutions to this, thankfully:

Many farmers can and will process foods. Some even do canning, which can be good to stock up on food and lessen the energy inputs. 

Value-added products: farms also try to avoid waste, and these products often become dried snacks if fruit, frozen, etc. 

Asking farmers if they would be open to accommodating this. Chances are, they would! The farmer I purchase my CSA share from certainly does. 

Going to farmers markets instead of buying a CSA, aligning with your energy levels. 

And if any of your purchased goods are going unused, you can always freeze them. 

DEMETER, CERES, VEIA, ETC: THE FORGOTTEN AGRICULTURE GODS

Agricultural gods are often neglected. Even gods presiding over agriculture often do not have those aspects venerated—Dionysos is a god of viticulture and Apollon a god of cattle. While I myself love Dionysos as a party and wine god, the core of him remains firmly in the vineyards and fields, branching into the expanses of the wild. I find him far more in the curling vines as I prune them than in the simple delights of the wine I ferment. Even more obscure gods, such as Veia, the Etruscan goddess of agriculture, are seldom known.

Persephone receives the worst of this: I enjoy her too as a dread queen, and people do acknowledge her as Kore, but she is far more popular as the queen of the underworld instead of the dear daughter of Demeter. I do understand this, though—I did not feel the might of Demeter and Persephone until I began to move soil with my own hands. A complete difference to the ancient world, where the Eleusinian mysteries appealed to thousands. Times change, and while some things should be left to the past, our link to these gods have been severed. After all, how many of us reading know where our food comes from? I did not until I began to purchase from the land I grew to know personally. The grocery store has become a land of tearing us from the land, instead of the food hub it should be.

Yet, while paganism forgets agriculture gods, they have not forgotten us. The new world of farming is more conductive and welcoming than ever. I find that while older, bigoted people exist, the majority of new farmers tend to be LGBT+. My own boss is trans and aro, and I myself am transgender and gay. The other young farmers I know are some flavour of LGBT+, or mixed/poc. There’s a growing movement for Black farmers, elaborated in a lovely text called We Are Each Other’s Harvest. 

Indigenous farming is also growing and I absolutely recommend buying from indigenous farmers. At this point, I consider Demeter to be a patron of LGBT+ people in this regard—she gives an escape to farmers such as myself. Bigotry is far from my mind under her tender care, as divine Helios shines above and Okeanos’ daughters bring fresh water to the crops. Paganism is also more commonly accepted—I find that farmers find out that I am pagan and tell me to do rituals for their crops instead of reacting poorly. Or they’re pagan themselves; a farmer I know turned out to be Wiccan and uses the wheel of the year to keep track of production. 

Incorporating these divinities—or concepts surrounding them—into our crafts and altars is the spiritual step towards better agriculture. Holy Demeter continues to guide me, even before I knew it. 

WANT CHANGE? DO IT YOURSELF! 

If you want change in the world, you have to act. And if you wish for better agriculture, there is always the chance to do it yourself. Sustainable agriculture is often far more accessible than people think: like witchcraft and divination, it is a practice. Homesteading is often appealing to many of us, including myself, and there are plenty of resources to begin. There are even grants to help one improve their home to be more sustainable, i.e. solar panels. Gardening is another, smaller option. Many of us find that plants we grow and nourish are far more potentant in craft, and more receptive to magical workings. 

Caring for plants is fundamental to our natures and there are a thousand ways to delve into it. I personally have joined conservation groups, my local soil conservation group, work with the NRCs in the USA, and more. The path to fully reconnecting to nature and agriculture is personal—united in a common cause to fight for this beautiful world. To immerse yourself in sustainable agriculture, I honestly recommend researching and finding your own path. Mine lies in soil and rot, grapevines and fruit trees. Others do vegetables and cereal grains, or perhaps join unions and legislators. Everyone has a share in the beauty of life, our lives stemming from the land’s gentle sprouts. 

Questions and or help may be given through my ask box on tumblr—if there is a way I can help, let me know. My knowledge is invaluable I believe, as I continue to learn and grow in the grey-clothed arms of Demeter, Dionysos, and Kore. 

FURTHER READING:

Baszile, N. (2021). We are each other’s harvest. HarperCollins.

Hatley, J. (2016). Robin Wall Kimmerer. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge and the teachings of plants. Environmental Philosophy, 13(1), 143–145. https://doi.org/10.5840/envirophil201613137

Regenerative Agriculture 101. (2021, November 29). https://www.nrdc.org/stories/regenerative-agriculture-101#what-is

And in truth, far more than I could count. 

References

Community Supported Agriculture | National Agricultural Library. (n.d.). https://www.nal.usda.gov/farms-and-agricultural-production-systems/community-supported-agriculture

Navazio, J. (2012). The Organic seed Grower: A Farmer’s Guide to Vegetable Seed Production. Chelsea Green Publishing.

Plaster, E. (2008). Soil Science and Management. Cengage Learning.

Sheaffer, C. C., & Moncada, K. M. (2012). Introduction to agronomy: food, crops, and environment. Cengage Learning.

Sheldrake, M. (2020). Entangled life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds & Shape Our Futures. Random House.

Sustainable Agriculture | National Agricultural Library. (n.d.). https://www.nal.usda.gov/farms-and-agricultural-production-systems/sustainable-agriculture

[publicenemy212]

Part 2 of Love Potion (dom!Velvette x f!sub!reader)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

woo boy this ended up a lot longer than i expected! this is Part 2; Part 1 brings more context to the story!

Read Part 1 here

warnings:

not beta'd, porn w/ plot, dubcon, aphrodisiacs, a mix of degradation+praise, edging, oral, strapless dildo, floor sex, power dynamics (boss x employee)

word count: 4611

Also on AO3!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The grand tower overshadowed you. Neon lights glimmered in the red sky, mixing with the city smog to create a glowing cloud surrounding the already-intimidating building. You weren’t even past those glass doors yet and you could already feel the stifling power emanating from the Vees’ headquarters, choking your breath and your soul.

You took a deep inhale to calm your screaming nerves. All that time you’d spent building a following, perfecting your aura, your looks, your energy: it was all about to pay off. If everything went according to plan, you would be well on your way to living the true high life by the end of tonight.

As you gazed upwards at the top of the building where the three giant V signs blazed, you steeled yourself for the rapidly-approaching meeting with your long time idol.

Ignoring the random sounds of the hellish city behind you, you stepped forward to dial in the callbox next to the locked entrance.

Your nails clacked against the brushed steel of the keypad. After a few moments of static, a voice crackled through the tiny speaker. “V Tower, how may I help you?”

Clearing your throat, you responded, “I’m here for an interview with Velvette.”

A brief moment of silence passed as the concierge fiddled with the door lock controls. A clicking sound preceded the large modern doors sliding open, granting you entrance to the overlords’ abode.

Heart pounding, you swallowed the excess saliva that had formed in your mouth and stepped into the V Tower lobby.

The lobby itself was already lavishly furnished, showcasing wealth and power to no end. The shining tile floor reflected everything as perfectly as a crystal-clear lake, undoubtedly polished and cleaned by the multitude of assistants whose souls were tethered to the Vees’ iron grips. Several potted plants were masterfully placed around the expansive lobby, bringing an air of class and cleanliness that was absent from the world outside these decorated walls. So this was true power. The ability to create and maintain a relatively civilized and clean bubble amidst literal Hell.

As you marveled at the sights, a rather insignificant looking figure approached you. Another poor pest without a soul, you thought, pitying their sorry state. Of course, you couldn’t be as arrogant as you normally were while in the presence of the Vees, so you tried your best to tone your reactions down. Instead of a sneer, you only casted a rather cool gaze down at the sinner. “Yes?”

The sinner shuffled their papers awkwardly and cleared their throat. “Velvette has asked me to take you to her. Follow me, please.”

You nodded once and quickly fixed your clothing, smoothing any wrinkles or rumples that formed during your commute, before following the assistant to an elevator. You made sure to maintain just the right balance of an air of vanity, as was your brand. You certainly could not afford to drop that in front of Velvette. After all, she chose you only based on the image you created of yourself on Sinstagram. Deviate from that, and you might just get yourself dismissed.

It wasn’t too hard, anyway. Your ego was quite large and you wholeheartedly believed yourself to be a god among men, especially when around lowly nobodies like that frail assistant mumbling over their papers. However, you also recognized when you were that weak nobody in comparison to somebody else—somebody like Velvette. In such scenarios, you made sure to act your place. Picking your fights wisely was what got you to success in the first place. Only after you had amassed more power would you even consider biting back. 

The elevator dinged as it reached Velvette’s floor. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the assistant shiver briefly. What a loser. 

You stepped out of the elevator, taking another deep breath. The air smelled like a clothing store and strawberries and… a tinge of blood. You paid it no mind. Sinners killing other sinners was commonplace. It was even less surprising here, since this place belonged to not one, but three bloodthirsty overlords. As you continued walking towards the center of the room, you discovered the source of the smell: several models, whom you recognized from Velvette’s fashion shows, were torn limb from limb and left strewn across the room. You raised an eyebrow at the sight.

“Hey you! Get your arse over here, I don’t have all day.” A cocky voice sounds from the left end of the room. 

That’s Velvette’s voice. No doubt. You instinctively straightened your back and lifted your chin ever-so-slightly as you walked over to meet her.

She was even more intimidating in real life; gorgeous, too, of course. As to be expected from the fashion overlord.

She sat in her director’s chair and tapped away on her phone. As you neared her chair, her eyes lifted from the screen to meet yours before looking you up and down. A smirk crept up onto her face. 

“Well, at least you don’t disappoint me from the first impression.” 

She stood up from where she sat and slid her phone into her pocket, her skull earrings jingling softly. “You gonna hand me those photos or what?”

You dipped your head. “Of course. Here’s my portfolio.” You reached into your purse to procure a small folder filled with your best modeling shots and handed it to Velvette. She snatched it rudely from your hands and shuffled through the carefully-selected photos with little care. You watched her eyes expectantly, desperate to take note of any hint of emotion.

After a minute, Velvette scoffed, slamming the folder shut and throwing it behind her back. You cringed slightly at her obvious rejection.

“Are you joking? These photos are shit. Did you take them yourself or something?”

You blinked and took a breath. “No, ma’am, I hired a photographer for these images.”

“Really? Then I hope you killed them afterwards, because this work is worse than the pictures I took as a five-year-old.”

Before you could think of something to say, she roughly grabbed your arm and dragged you down the hallway. Bewildered, you simply stumbled along. “Sorry, but where are you taking me?”

“We’re taking new pictures for you. Ones that will actually look professional, instead of whatever dogshit you showed me earlier.”

You bit back your tongue. Though you were no overlord, your power still wholly outmatched most sinners you came into contact with in your day-to-day life. Anybody who spoke to you like how Velvette was speaking to you just now would’ve been killed already. You hated disrespect, but now was not the time to fight. Lashing out would not only mean an end to your career but also to your life. Sure, sinners couldn’t truly die at the hands of another sinner without being hurt with an angelic weapon, but regenerating over the course of two weeks or so was a torturous ordeal you’d rather not go through.

By now, Velvette was intrigued. It wasn’t every day she recruited a new model who could hold their temper against her harsh remarks. Maybe only about 30% of interviewees. However, these were exactly the type of people she needed on her team. She absolutely refused to deal with any bitchy narcissists who thought they could go against her. Which, unfortunately, was the majority. Then again, these people were all in Hell for a reason. She couldn’t really expect there to be many humble sinners out there. No, humble wasn’t the right word: rather, people who knew their rightful place.

Once the two of you entered the photography studio, Velvette reached for her phone and called in one of her assistants to retake your pictures for your modeling portfolio. You waited patiently, unwilling to stir any conflict.

Velvette broke the silence. “Y’know, you’re lucky you’re still here and in one piece. I would have had you sent away after you presented those pictures to me, but that bitch Valentino ripped through a good half of my top models during one of his hissy fits again. Were it not for that, you would certainly not be here!” she declared snarkily, ending her comment with a cocky laugh.

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes. Self-control was, fortunately, one of your strong suits—unbeknownst to you, Velvette was watching your every reaction to her words and actions. 

Today had been a slow day for Velvette. She only had her second-rate models to work with, and none of them satisfied her standards for the shoot she had in mind. Of course, now that there was fresh meat well within her grasp, she decided to have a bit of fun with things. Just how far could she push your buttons before you fought back?

The photographer she called finally arrived at the studio. Velvette exited the room without another word, her eyes never leaving her phone screen. All these awfully boring notifications to go through, clients to respond to… leave it to Val to ruin her entire fucking week. Everything had to be pushed back after his latest idiotic tantrum. Velvette groaned as she leaned against the wall.

She opened the camera app and set it to selfie mode. At least her hair and makeup were still perfectly in place. After finding the perfect angle under the hallway lighting, she snapped a few pictures to post on her Sinstagram story.

Suddenly, her screen flashed with an incoming call from Vox. Velvette rolled her eyes, slightly miffed at the interruption.

“What do you want right now? You know today isn’t the best time to be calling me.”

Vox sighed over the phone. “Just letting you know that I’ve placated the pissbaby.” He droned on in a rather exhausted tone.

“Great! Now keep him that way, I can’t afford him storming down here and ruining my next best candidate for the shoot.”

Velvette tapped the red button to hang up the call, mumbling expletives under her breath. Just the thought of Valentino bringing his idiotic rants into her business made her blood boil. You’d think he would be calmer with all those cigarettes he smoked all the time, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

She finished editing and posting her newest selfies to her story before going back to handle all of her unread messages.

After another ten minutes, she barged back into the photography studio. “You’ve taken long enough, let me see those photos.”

The assistant imp meekly stood up and made way for Velvette to look at the digital files on the computer. You stayed in the corner, waiting for Velvette’s next orders, albeit with much more dignity than that trembling imp.

After a few moments, Velvette walked back to the doorway. “Good enough, now scurry along and get those printed.”

The imp didn’t hesitate for a second before taking the laptop and scrambling away, head down the entire time. You found it rather amusing how these lowly assistants didn’t even bother trying to keep their pride intact. Of course, you knew better—you understood how to bow to a stronger power but still respect yourself in the process. You understood the art of keeping an image. 

Your self-control didn’t go unnoticed by the overlord in the room. In fact, the entire time ever since you two met face-to-face, she’d been toying with the idea of how to break that carefully curated composure of yours. It would be some much-needed entertainment after the shitty day she’d had.

Velvette stopped at the studio exit and turned to face you. “You. Follow me, I think you deserve a rest after all this work.” She turned around and kept walking without looking back to see if you followed or not. She didn’t need to; from what you’ve shown so far, you were quite the obedient one.

“Of course.” You tailed her down the hallway until she stopped in front of another room. The two of you entered what you soon realized was the company break room. The warm aroma of coffee filled your nostrils and she gestured to you to sit down.

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee would be great.”

To your surprise, Velvette poured a cup for you. A rather shocking act of politeness from the overlord compared to all the interactions you’ve had tonight.

She handed you the mug before sitting at the table across from you.

“So tell me more about yourself. Why’d you want to be scouted by my company?”

You stared at her peppermint-like eyes. Her face betrayed no ill will. Taking a sip of the warm coffee, you respond candidly. “Well, I would say I’m quite the catch. I wouldn’t want to join just any random bullshit agency out there. That would be a waste of my talent.”

Velvette smiled amicably. “That’s true. And I did select you for a reason, sweetie. Glad to see you own up to it. I certainly cannot deal with any bitches who either have egos smaller than their dicks or ugly creatures who somehow think they’re the shit.”

As Velvette continued to inquire about your life and goals, you couldn’t help but notice a strange buzz welling up inside of you. You drank coffee every day; you had definitely built a tolerance to caffeine by now. There was no way one cup of coffee was affecting you this strongly.

After the short interview in the break room, Velvette led you back down the hallway into a changing room. Something was wrong. Your muscles trembled ever so slightly, your legs weak with each step you took. Not to mention how you could feel your body temperature rise. Did Velvette drug the coffee? You silently cursed yourself for not realizing that earlier, but it was too late to do anything about that now. You had come so close to realizing your dreams. There was no way you were going to let everything down the drain now.

As she walked you down the hall, Velvette grinned ever so slightly. She almost couldn’t believe you just accepted that cup and drank it without a second thought. How the fuck did you survive for so long in Hell? What a goddamned idiot. 

She could tell from the slight twitches in your stride and your face that the Love Potion she had slipped into your drink was kicking in. Now, she just had to see how long it would be before that poise of yours came crashing down.

In the changing room, she riffled through the endless outfits hung up in the walk-in closet to select one of her newest designs for you to try out. You took the chance to sit down and rest your shaky legs. Blood pounded through your ears as if they were drumbeats announcing your advancing demise. You gritted your teeth, determined to tough it out. You had gone through worse before. Fighting against chemicals in your bloodstream was nothing… right?

Doubts began inching up your mind like worms as the effects of whatever drug Velvette fed you only increased. Sweat began to bead up along your brow and your cheeks felt hot to the touch. Worst of all, there was a growing ache between your legs that only seemed to get worse with every second that passed.

You swallowed the saliva that had pooled inside your mouth. Even your vision was starting to blur. Fuck.

Unexpected images of Velvette kissing you and fucking you flashed behind your eyes.

“Hello? Helloooo? Wake up!”

You snapped back to reality to see Velvette inches away from your face. “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” you uttered weakly before clearing your voice and straightening yourself. “Apologies.”

She scrutinized you for a few moments before leaning back and handing you a pile of clothes. “Well, while you were busy daydreaming about god-knows-what, I’ve been asking you for the past minute if you could wear this outfit.” Your pupils were dilated beyond control. How cute.

You fumbled with the fabrics before standing up to get changed. Yet, to your horror, you felt the coolness of air hitting a wet spot between your thighs. A matching damp mark was on the chair where you were sitting.

Velvette feigned shock and disgust. “What the fuck is that?”

Shame pulsed through your entire body. “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I swear,” you tried to speak with an even voice, failing miserably as your voice croaked in the middle.

Velvette scowled in revulsion. “Well, quit it. You have a job to do right now. I don’t have all day.” She was intrigued. Most people would’ve been reduced to a nonfunctional pile of lust by now, especially at the dosage she gave you. She wondered how much more she could put you through before you finally fell apart.

She exited the room to give you privacy to change into the new clothes. Tapping on the Vmessages app, she decided to give Vox a small update on her newest prey.

Slipped 50mg of Love Potion extract into her drink LOL

The changing room door creaked open and you stepped out, wearing the clothing Velvette chose for you. She turned off her phone and spun around to face you. She circled you like a vulture, her watchful eyes assessing whether the design was acceptable or not. “Not bad. At least it isn’t too far from what I had in mind.”

Satisfied, Velvette beckoned you to follow her back to the photography studio. Your legs threatened to buckle with each step. It took every ounce of your waning willpower to keep a straight face and a normal stride. The world swam before your eyes.

One foot suddenly knocked into the other. You gasped and tumbled to the floor helplessly. Right before you hit the floor, Velvette caught your arm. You panted heavily, a mix of overbearing, unplaced lust and adrenaline pounding through your chest.

She hauled you back upright before glaring at you. “What’s the matter with you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound could come out. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to regroup your thoughts. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you exhaled, expecting it to be silent—you were just breathing, for fuck’s sake—but your vocal chords were just tense enough to involuntarily generate a soft, needy moan.

Your eyes flew open with horror at your own body’s blatant betrayal. Velvette stared directly at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I take it that you’d like some help right now?” She smirked.

By now, your self-control had dissolved into oblivion. You could hardly even think coherent thoughts anymore. The only thing left on your mind?

You nodded profusely.

To your dismay, Velvette laughed in your face and shoved you forward. “Then that’s too bad. Keep walking, filthy whore.”

You whined, your legs pressing together. You tried to keep walking forward, but you tripped and fell to the polished tiles below not two steps later. Groaning in need, you tried to lift yourself back up, only to fail pitifully. It seemed like your sense of balance had left you as well. Everything felt like getting drunk, only ten times worse and ten times hornier.

Velvette’s heels clacked closer. She bent down and smiled at you. “Looks like you finally broke.”

Your bleary eyes stared back at her in confusion. She scooped you up from under your arms, letting you lean against her for support as she walked you back to the changing room.

Once you two were alone inside the room, she sat you on a bench and locked the doors.

The red-haired overlord returned to stand over your trembling self. She crossed her arms and stared down at you. “How about a deal, hm? I’ll help you relieve this suffering this time, and in return, you give me your soul.” She stuck out a hand.

Her words went through one ear and out the other. Everything was lost on you except for her offer to help you. Mindlessly, you accepted the deal.

You grasped her hand, solidifying the exchange of your soul to her control. Velvette grinned maliciously before leaning in towards you and kissing you.

Purple light and energy flickered in the air surrounding you both. The soul deal was complete.

She lifted you up to make it easier for the two of you to deepen the kiss. Her tongue flicked around inside your mouth, brushing against yours in the process. Her hands gripped the sides of your face as yours snaked around the back of her neck, your fingers running through her hair. There was no space left between you and her, your bodies pressed against each other as tightly as possible. You bit her bottom lip and licked it to taste her strawberry-flavored lip gloss. Although Velvette didn’t expect to find herself so into you when she first thought up the plan, she couldn’t deny how much she also wanted this. It was nice to have another plaything.

A string of mixed saliva connected your lips as you broke for air. You gasped to catch your breath.

You two continued to kiss soon after. Her black lipgloss smeared over your bare lips and soon enough, your neck as well. Each kiss and bite earned a whimper out of you as you clutched onto her weakly. Everything was a reminder as to how small you truly were in the presence of an overlord.

Velvette pulled away suddenly. “Sit down.” She commanded you, shoving you back down onto the bench. Your chest still heaved for air, your breathing labored and impaired from the spiked coffee.

“Take off your pants.”

You frantically obliged, desperate for any kind of stimulation to your aching clit.

She kneeled in front of you, holding your inner thighs apart. Her puffy pigtails tickled your legs.

“Vel, please, I—I need…”

Any other words you had were cut off by a sharp gasp as she shoved her face to your cunt without warning. Your already-moist vagina combined with her slick mouth with both hers and your own saliva from making out made for the most unholy, wet noises as she ate you out. Your back arched and you gritted your teeth at the sensory overload from your hypersensitive, drugged nerves firing waves after waves of pure bliss. Velvette’s tongue alternated from swirling around your clit to dipping inside your hole, fucking you nonstop. Your thighs tightened around her head, her own hands holding your legs over her shoulders. One of your hands propped you up while the other one gripped Velvette’s hair.

“Fuck, I—oh god,” you managed to gasp out.

Her red eyes glanced up at you. “Enjoying yourself up there, you whiny little slut?” She chuckled with her mouth still against your cunt, the vibrations adding fuel to the fire. Her tongue thrust back inside of you to work you closer to the edge.

You moaned through your teeth once more. Velvette could feel your walls tighten around her tongue. You were close, and that was also her sign to stop. She pulled back as briskly as when she dove in.

You blinked away your tears and wiped your drool with your hand that was on her head. “Wha… why?” Your voice cracked a little with unfulfilled need.

Velvette wiped her own mouth with her hand to get rid of your slick and her drool. She grinned at you. “Aww, sad that you didn’t get to cum? Don’t worry, darling.” With that, she turned around to rummage through one of the dressers.

You blinked, confused and unable to think properly. In your incapacitated state, you were willing to do anything Velvette said if it meant you could reach your high. Nothing mattered in the world but sex.

You sat there stupidly until Velvette returned with a strapless dildo. Your eyes slid from the dildo and back up to the overlord’s lustful gaze. The end that would be going into you… it had to have been a good seven inches long. Smiling, she leaned towards you and handed the silicone toy to you. She pointed at her end of the toy. “I want you to coat this part nice and good. Don’t leave a single spot dry.”

You stared at the silicone cock for a moment before bringing it to your mouth. You dragged your lips and tongue over the toy lasciviously, slathering it with your saliva as you were instructed before handing it back to your boss.

She hummed, satisfied with your obedience and drugged stupor. “Good girl.” Velvette patted you on the head mockingly.

Her own pants fell to the floor as she inserted the strapless end of the dildo inside herself, moaning in the process. The sound itself caused another pulse of pleasure through your own lower regions. You breathed heavily as you watched the silicone cock bounce before your face. Velvette’s right hand grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back just enough to face her dick. Her other hand guided the tip to your lips. She grinned at the feeling of complete dominance over the previously well-composed sinner. “Suck.”

You parted your mouth, giving her full access to your throat. Without hesitation, she thrusted as far as she could, forcing you to gag and choke. Saliva oozed out of your mouth and down your chin while she fucked your mouth brutally, ensuring to unwind you even further. To ruin you even more.

Your hands grasped at her buttocks for some semblance of support. You groaned and whimpered as drool dripped everywhere.

Once Velvette was happy, she pulled out to admire her work. The dildo glistened under the changing room lights, and best of all, your expression was utterly priceless—your eyes unfocused, hair tousled, mouth slightly agape and slobber essentially everywhere.

“Beautiful. Now get on the floor. On your stomach.”

You slid off the bench and laid face down. Velvette soon followed suit, kneeling on the floor behind you. She grabbed your hips, lifting them up with surprising strength. Your knees dug against the cold tiles. A hand pushed the small of your back back down towards the floor, guiding your body into the perfect arch. You couldn’t see much but you soon felt something cold and wet prodding your entrance.

Velvette thrusted into you in one powerful stroke, hilting herself almost immediately. “That went in surprisingly easily… been wanting this, huh?” her voice taunted you from behind. She began to thrust back and forth, your hips colliding and sending loud smacking noises across the room. Both of your moans joined the wet slapping sounds. Your hands clawed uselessly at the smooth tiled floor, the lack of support adding to the overpowering stimulation and feeling of a loss of control. Velvette laughed at your pitiful state, her own ecstasy from that power trip and the two-way dildo mixing into a pleasurable cocktail of emotions.

You came multiple times, the stimulation now so immense each movement brought tears to your eyes nonstop. A white ring of your cum formed around the base of Velvette’s cock, adding to the lubrication from your slick and saliva. At some point, you began to fade in and out of consciousness, which only added to Velvette’s amusement. Velvette only stopped once she felt her own fatigue creeping in, her stress successfully alleviated for the day. She pulled out of your limp body with a sigh and pulled it out of herself after. Tossing the toy aside, she cast another glance at your spent body before taking out her phone.

Vmessages                       6m ago

Vox

So, how’d it go?

Velvette smiled, tapping on the notification to send a reply.

Made a new deal. Found ourselves a new keeper. x

[cryptwrites]

Poisons

Hello! I'm gonna share how I go about writing poisons and the things I think are helpful to keep in mind. Now, I have never actually poisoned someone - shocker - but I have done extensive research on the topic, so I would say I know a decent amount about how to effectively poison someone. Disclaimer: This is for writing purposes only, don't poison people. Thanks.

Keep In Mind:

Poisoners need little to no physical strength although they do need a strong sense of self control & nerves of steel. Shooting or stabbing someone takes a mere moment of consideration and is frequently the result of  a split second decision, while position requires dedication. Many poisons require a certain amount of time to work and the poisoner usually must administer several doses of poison in order to work. The poisoner also usually must be within close proximity to their victim and often will have to look them in the eye and engage with the person while the person slowly dies.

Exotic poisons can be more trouble than they’re worth. Importing exotic poisons leaves a trail for authorities to follow, and they require more research to correctly use.

Smart poisoners work with what they’ve got. The clever killer looks for drugs that are already in the victim’s medicine cabinet and that could be deadly. Read medical warning labels to get an idea of how to use them.

Poison can be used in ways that aren’t deadly. If the goal isn’t death, you can render someone dizzy or dopey, making a character vulnerable to a bad influence. 

Common Poisons

Hemlock: Poison hemlock comes from a large fern-like plant that bears a dangerous resemblance to the carrot plant. It was readily available for treating muscle spasms, ulcers, and swelling, but in large doses will cause paralysis and ultimately respiratory failure. 

Mandrake: It was used as a sedative, hallucinogen and aphrodisiac. Superstition mediaeval denizens believes when the vaguely human-shaped root was pulled out that plant gave a piercing shriek that would drive anyone to madness or death - hence the harry potter scene.

Arsenic: Arsenic comes from a metalloid and not a plant, unlike the others but it’s easily the most famous and is still used today. instead of being distilled from a plant, chunks of arsenic and dug up or mined. It was once used as a treatment for STDs , and also for pest control and blacksmiths, which was how many poisoners got access to it. It was popular in the Renaissance since it looked similar to malaria death, due to acute symptoms including stomach cramps, confusion, convulsions, vomiting and death. Slow poisoning looked more like a heart attack.

Nightshade: A single leaf or a few berries could cause hallucinations - a few more was a lethal dose. Mediaeval women used the juice of the berries to colour their cheeks, they would even put a few drops on their eyes to cause the pupils to dilate for a lovestruck look which is why Nightshade is also called ‘Belladonna’ or “Beautiful woman.” The symptoms include dilated pupils, sensitivity to light, blurred vision, tachycardia, loss of balance, staggering, headache, rash, flushing, severely dry mouth and throat, slurred speech, urinary retention, constipation, confusion, hallucinations, delirium and convulsions.

Aconite: This toxic plant, also called Monkshood or Wolfsbane, was used by indigenous tribes around the world as arrow poison. The root is the most potent for distillation. Marked symptoms may appear almost immediately, usually not later than one hour, and with large doses death is near instantaneous. The initial signs are gastrointestinal including nausea, and vomiting. This is followed by a sensation of burning, tingling, and numbness in the mouth and face, and of burning in the abdomen. In severe poisonings pronounced motor weakness occurs and sensations of tingling and numbness spread to the limbs. The plant should be handled with gloves, as the poison can seep into the skin.

If someones poisoning another:

The character should analyse the daily life of the target well before attempting to poison them. Note what sort of medicines they take, at what moments they are most vulnerable, how attentive they are to their surroundings, and so on.

Choose a poison that suits your needs. You need to be as discreet as possible and not arouse suspicion. Too dramatic and people will know something is up. Choose poisons that are easy to slip into meals/don't have to be administered constantly, or you could simply frame it as an overdose by using the target's own medicines.

Think of how you want to administer the poison. Some take effect through touch while some require being swallowed. Based on that, come up with a plan to poison your target.

Make sure everything corresponds with the plot and characters, and nothing becomes a plot hole. Don't have a typically nervous character be perfectly calm when thinking of poisoning. Don't poison someone just for the sake of it. Have everything tie back to the plot, your characters rarely should be poisonings someone just for the "cool" effect. Trust me, it doesn't actually have that effect and just comes off like lazy writing. Have your characters act in accordance with their personalities.

Research time periods and history when choosing poisons. Not all poisons were popular during the same time periods, and not all of them are native to the same geographical areas.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Good Rich Earth: A Science Fiction Retelling of "The Secret Garden"

Ever since Mary had become an orphan, all adults did was tell each other about her story.

"Raised practically by robots, the poor thing. On one of those military space stations. She's never stepped foot on a planet!"

They talked over her just as if she wasn't there. Mary hated it. But then, she'd gotten used to hating things. Earth had so many things to hate.

She hated the outside air that got too hot or too cold or too humid and couldn't be changed by flipping a switch. She hated the sky with its constantly-changing light levels. She hated the gray clouds that always seemed to hang low over the big stone house where she was supposed to live with her uncle. She hated the vast, barren lands with the short scrubby plants that were all that had managed to grow since the Disasters.

But she hated the echoing darkness of that big house most of all, and so she spent most of her days in the hateful outdoors, looking for something to do. Ben let her tag along sometimes as he tended to the grounds. He called himself a gardener, so naturally Mary asked what a garden was.

"Its where we grow plants on purpose," Ben said.

"Like hydroponics?"

Ben sneered. "Hydroponics!" He lifted a handful of dirt from the ground. "In good rich earth! None of those weak, wispy water-plants with no more nutrition in them than a wet rag!"

Mary couldn't get another word out of him after that--he was too busy muttering to himself about space stations and their unholy, unnatural ways.

But she kept wondering about gardens. She liked the word, liked the idea--having seen nothing similar in any space station.

"If only you'd been here when the mistress was alive," Martha said. "You'd have seen gardens enough then. Always tending to her plants, she was. Trying to bring back flowers what was lost in the Disasters."

But when the mistress was lost, so were her gardens--locked away and left to decay by the husband who couldn't bear to see the site of his wife's death. It seemed unfair to Mary--the one interesting thing on this planet had been abandoned, and now there was nothing left for her.

Or was there? The gardens weren't destroyed--just locked. And locks always had keys.

The search for that locked door became the sole pursuit that filled Mary's days. She searched every corner of the house, looked for cellars, searched among the outbuildings for anything that looked like the wall of a garden. As she searched, she found she noticed the wind and cold less--grew even to like it, as exercise kept her warm. She even found other things that, though they were not the door, proved to be worth finding. A stubby little plant with purple flowers that opened overnight. A stream of clear water from snowmelt. And--best of all--the robin.

He became a companion on her hunt, the little bird--a cheerful voice that flitted about and checked on her progress before returning to his little labors.

It was while following him one day that Mary found the garden. The robin, in his daily fluttering, perched atop a building that she'd passed by a thousand times, sitting on the very edge of the eaves. Then the robin twittered, stepped back--and disappeared, seeming to fall straight through the solid roof.

"Hologram," Ben explained later. "A protective field. Keeps the temperature beneath a bit more stable, lets in rain and birds for water and pest control, and keeps prying eyes from seeing what's inside. Mistress used it to protect her work--plenty of folks who'd steal a cutting and give it to the corporations."

At last! The lost garden!

But still no door. Mary spent days prowling around the walls, searching for an opening, and found nothing but solid brick.

Until one sunny day, when the robin landed on the ground at the base of the wall. As he folded his wings, one of them brushed the bricks, and Mary saw the faintest shimmer of light ripple across a section of the wall.

This, Mary recognized--EtherDoors were a fact of space station life. With the right key, the wall could become permeable enough to let a person through--no need for the extra space or machinery a door required.

The robin fluttered toward a short shrub and sang a cheerful song. As Mary's eyes followed him, she saw a patch of dirt beneath the branches--and suddenly realized that the rock she had seen there a thousand times was no rock at all.

Mary lifted the shining, convex piece of black metal--a simple piece hiding complicated electronics. She pressed it to the center of where the EtherDoor stood--and her hand went through the wall. With two more steps, the rest of Mary followed.

She found herself in paradise.

She had never seen so much green. It covered the ground, climbed the walls, twisted around posts. There were trees with flowers on their branches. Bushes with tiny lacy leaves. Rubbery green stems with silky red and yellow cup-shaped blossoms on top. Thousands of plants, tangled, matted and twisted together, but all alive, drawing food from the earth and reaching up, up, up toward the sun.

For the first time, Mary was truly on Earth, as it was supposed to be.

And she saw that it was magical.

[lilacskyly]

Honored Ones: Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

(This might be bad idk :,> not that proud of it)

Throughout Heaven and the Earth, he  is the honored one. 

Then what does that make you?

“Oh goddess~ You aren’t hiding from me, are you?” you heard Satoru Gojo coo as his steps echoed throughout the abandoned building. You covered your mouth, trying your best to cover your shaky breath. “You can’t hide from me forever~ You know we’re bound… right goddess?” You heard him laugh and then a chain rattled. You froze, staring at your wrist to see the spirit bind chain that was shackled to your wrist. “Stop fighting me. You already know I can sense you… right?” he questioned. Tears fell out of your eyes just as Gojo teleported in front of you. “Found you~”

You jumped before he covered your mouth. He put a finger to his lips, “Sssshhh my dear…. Ssshh… I’m here… those special grade curses are gone… there’s no need to cry!” He smiled for you before planting a small kiss on your forehead. If you didn’t know better, he would’ve just been his normal self. But, after you saw him kill those curses and some of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers for ‘getting in the way’, you knew you couldn’t trust his smile.

“S-satoru…”

His smile only grew upon hearing his name come from your lips. God.. those perfect lips of yours. He was practically salivating.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts. “Yes my goddess?”

“W-where are the others?” you asked.

“The others? Oh… you mean the pests. They're gone now. They can't bother us now~” he whispered in your ear. “You cryin’? It's okay my goddess… you're safe now.” 

He took your hand in his and lifted you off the ground. Despite your fear of him, you hugged him and started crying even more. He engulfed you in a hug as well. “Never do that again.” he said, getting scarily serious for once.

“I-I won’t! I swear I won’t!” you cried. He knew better than to take your word for that.

He sighed, “Let’s go home goddess. You’ve had a long day..”

You couldn’t track how long it took you to get to his place. Time always seemed to mush together when you were with him. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Gojo locked the door behind you two when you entered his place. He collapsed on the sofa, pulling on the spirit bind chain to get you to come over. 

“Y’know goddess, I never imagined being this close to you…” he started. “After all, you’re barely a jujutsu sorcerer my dear… it’s a miracle we even met.”

“... y-yeah… I-I’m sorry, I’m really weak..” you said, looking down at his hands. 

He shook his head. “Stop lying to yourself. You may not be as strong as you want… but soon enough you will be.”

“H-how?”

“I’ve been hinting at a surprise haven’t I? I think it’s about time I finally reveal it.” he smiled softly at you.

You tilted your head, confusion spread across your face. “W-what do you mean?”

“You’re almost entirely mine, my precious goddess~ Did you figure out what I’ve been doing yet?” he asked innocently. 

Wait. He didn’t.. He fucking wouldn’t.

He smiled after seeing your expression. “You’ve figured it haven’t you? You’re so smart my goddess! I’ve been putting drops of my blood into your food I’ve prepared for you… and you know how your cursed technique works.. Right?”

Of course you did! You weren’t stupid.. Were you?

“Your cursed technique isn’t very practical… at least for you. You have to quite literally consume a part of a person to gain their strength. But but but! If you ingest too much, your life becomes officially theirs to control. It’s funny really.. You get stronger but you become less and less you the more you do so!”

“G-gojo… w-what..?”

“Look my goddess… I know someone as holy as you could never be mine… so, I’m taking fate into my own hands. We will be together now, forever. No matter what you do, you won’t be able to die as long as I’m alive. You can’t even escape me in death. We’re bound, remember goddess? You’ve sealed your fate the very moment you agreed to this.” He grabbed your wrist, showing the spirit bind you two established. You both had to ingest some of each other's blood to even establish it. You just wanted to be stronger… to be protected by someone…

You should’ve died to those curses in that building earlier.

Before you knew it, Gojo tore at his wrist till it bled heavily. He held it up for you to drink his blood. He chuckled as you looked at him in horror. “H-how… how long have you..”

“Oh, since we made the pact. I’ve had my sight on you for quite a while my dear.” he said nonchalantly. “Now, drink up. Haven’t got all night.”

You shook your head causing him to laugh loudly. “Seriously? You’re still being stubborn? You really don’t get it dear… you’re mine.” His blue eyes pierced your own, seeming to tear into your brain. “Now, drink.”

Your body moved without you as you downed his blood. The taste was repulsive, you hated doing this. Gojo however seemed to be enjoying it as he petted your hair muttering ‘good girl’ every now and again. He pushed you away after some time. “Now now dear, we don’t want to suck me completely dry, do we?” he teased.

“Mhm…” was all you managed to say.

“Y’know… the pact is fully made now, right? Ha! How funny! I can literally control you now!” he laughed lightly. “We can claim this world as ours… and ours alone. After all, we’re gods… together we are the honored one…”

He pulled on the now fully materialized chain around both your wrists and hummed cheerfully. 

“Let’s go have some fun, shall we?” 

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

How about Dedenne? On one hand, small and cute and mousey. On the other, electric type.

Dedennes, certainly surprisingly for an electric-type pokémon, would make pretty good pets. There’s a lot of dedenne-proofing you’ll need to do in your home, and they may be difficult to keep contained inside, but the electrocution threat they pose is much lower than similar pokémon, like pikachus.

To begin with, these guys are teensy tiny! At only eight inches tall, space isn’t going to be an issue with them. That being said, keeping dedennes from escaping your home might be pretty tricky. See, wild dedennes are known to be pests with an uncanny ability to sneak into the homes of humans in order to steal their electricity (Ultra Sun). If they can get in, they can get out: to keep a dedenne, you would need to be very careful to make sure there isn’t a way for your pet to escape. Not only might they get lost, they might annoy your neighbors by siphoning their power!

Speaking of siphoning power: the main threat that dedennes can pose to humans is through the use of electric shock. Like many electric-type pokémon, dedennes can hold an electric charge in their body by absorbing it through their tail and discharging it through their whiskers (Y). Dedennes, however, cannot generate an electric charge passively! This is why they become pests: dedennes need to absorb electricity through sources like power plants or electrical outlets (Y, Shield). If you were able to keep a dedenne from getting access to your home’s power through even something as simple as those child-proofing plugs, you may be able to prevent them from using moves that can cause paralysis! When you look at dedenne’s moves and cut out the ones that may be eliminated by limiting your pet’s electricity intake, they become almost harmless. Moves like Super Fang could still be a problem, however, so even if your dedenne’s intake is limited, you should be careful while handling them.

There’s a really important distinction to make here though: you cannot completely restrict your dedenne from building up an electric charge! Dedenne’s that aren’t able to generate enough energy become lethargic and sleepy (Violet). Additionally, wild dedennes don’t just use electricity to attack, they use it to communicate: using their antennae-like whiskers, dedennes over vast distances can communicate via electrical waves (X). There’s a good chance that preventing dedennes from performing this instinctual communication may be upsetting or disorienting to them. I would recommend seeking a way to give your dedenne access to a very controlled electrical source. You should meet with your vet to discuss your particular dedenne’s electrical needs, and invest in something like a controlled power generator.

Overall, especially if you are responsible in limiting your dedenne’s power intake, they would make very good pets.

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Thin Men

CR 4

Chaotic Neutral Medium Fey

The Inner Sea Bestiary, pg. 52

These uncanny Fey stalk through the cane fields of the Island of Nuat off the coast of Rahadoum, so good at masking their own presence that they’re widely believed to be myths... up until a farmer goes missing with no explanation. Though capable of subsisting on a diet of root vegetables, insect grubs, and whatever vermin they can catch, Thin Men sometimes hunger for a grander fare, stalking and killing livestock, pets... and even whole humans for sustenance. Despite this horrid habit and their ghoulish appearance, though, they do not perform these acts with any malevolence, and in most cases avoid killing humans unless they’re starving. Many of the fatalities owed to them are because of an unfortunate fairy quirk: Thin Men, like many Fey who’ve grown alongside mankind, seem to have an irresistible compulsion to try and remain hidden and out of sight, though unlike kinder House Spirits and Brownies who simply abandon their homes if acknowledged too much, Thin Men respond to people looking at them for too long with startling hostility.

And, well, when the deed is already done, it’d be a waste to just leave this meat laying around, wouldn’t it?

For most citizens living alongside Thin Men, though, they do not have to worry about accidentally offending their homicidal neighbors. These fey are very, very good at staying hidden, spending hours of their days underground hunting for the bugs, roots, and vermin they normally subsist on, their intimidating claws actually for burrowing rather than attacking, and they can tunnel easily through 20ft of earth a round. They’re actually almost entirely boneless, their skeleton formed of sections of incredibly flexible cartilage and further aided by a surplus of joints throughout their body, allowing them to cram themselves into spaces that would normally only allow rabbits (which are likely rare and prized treats for them). They’re not dedicated subterranean hunters, though, lacking any senses which would allow them to track prey through the soil and instead relying on above-ground evidence of food and then digging downwards.

Even when not slithering underground Thin Men are hard to see. They have a +17 to Stealth and move stealthily at every opportunity, but in their natural habitat among the cane fields, they’re effectively impossible to spot as their Stealth shoots all the way up to +25, their instincts causing them to unconsciously sway their bodies with the cane as it moves and dart into the shadows cast by the plants. Even in cane farms this instinct carries them well, with many farmers unknowingly harboring entire colonies of Thin Men among their crops, never quite realizing why they feel watched every time they’re out and about. Since they were on the isle of Nuat first, most farmers can shrug off the feeling and learn to silently thank the fey for their work in keeping pests from nibbling at their crops, but ‘silently’ is the operative word here. Never acknowledge them, lest you draw their wrath.

An offended or starving Thin Man, or one who was caught out of their stealth, attacks swiftly and violently with a Claw-Claw-Bite. Their bite deals 1d6+4 damage, and their dirt-crusted claws 1d4+4, but those claws leave gaping wounds in their wake which deal 1d4 bleed damage a round every round until the victim receives some healing. Despite being Medium, a Thin Man’s extreme flexibility allows it a 10ft reach with its claw attacks, allowing them to control wider swaths of their home fields and attack viciously without harming the plants they hide among. Though the prospect of them appearing from seemingly nowhere to attack is scary enough, the idea of one simply lashing out with a claw in retribution before returning to hiding is just as bad; a victim might not even realize what they saw, thinking it some sharpened branch or similar which stuck them, stumbling helplessly through endless fields of cane as they slowly succumb to bloodloss, never knowing if they’re going to be found as the wind blows through the cane again and reveals a half-dozen stalks that don’t bend in any direction but towards their body as they slowly lose consciousness.

Spooky stuff! And it’s easy to make players paranoid of these creatures with one simple trick: Their ability to Vanish into thin air once per day. As a move action while benefiting from any level of concealment, a Thin Man can seemingly fade from sight by contorting its body into the blind spots of any creature looking towards them. This isn’t invisibility, it’s better, as the Thin Men gain a flat +20 to Stealth checks (for a total of +37 outside cane fields and +45 within them) and can hide in plain sight for up to seven rounds. Whereas normal invisibility can be thwarted by solutions magical and mundane, the Thin Man’s Vanish cannot be beaten by anything but an astronomical Perception check, the effect only breaking if the fey directly attacks another creature. Otherwise, the Thin Man is essentially gone, an effect which may trick players into believing the creatures can teleport as soon as they’re out of sight.

With their burrowing prowess, high Stealth, and ability to simply choose not to be seen once a day, the Thin Men are excellent tools for instilling paranoia on players venturing out into the wilderness to get rid of what they believe may be a simple quest objective. Though Thin Men go down easily once cornered (their sole immunity is to poison, and their AC and HP are merely okay), just killing one doesn’t mean their threat is over. There is, after all, a non-insignificant chance that the Thin Men presented here represent the least skilled and most reckless of their kind, while the rest sit invisibly in the old cane fields, impossible to ever see. There’s a very real possibility that the Thin Men of Nuat are the only ones that have been conclusively proven to exist, that there may be others adapted to different conditions and imitating different plants--reeds, wheat, corn, even the thin saplings in the forests around every settlement--that have gone undiscovered. 

There’s a chance that Thin Men might be everywhere.

You can read more about them here.

[talonabraxas]

The Miracle Worker 🐝 This Earth Day, Remember the Bees

Bees are essential pollinators that play a critical role in our ecosystem and food system. Honey bees are responsible for pollinating many crops that provide us with food, including fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds. Unfortunately, honey bee populations have declined in recent years due to habitat loss, pesticide exposure, and disease. This decline has significant implications for our food system and the environment, making it crucial to raise awareness and take action to protect honey bees.

Here are some easy ways everyone can protect our honey bees this Earth Day:

Plant bee-friendly flowers: Planting flowers and herbs is an excellent way to attract bees to your garden. Bees need a diverse range of flowers to collect pollen and nectar.

Avoid pesticides: Chemicals used in pesticides can be toxic to bees and other beneficial insects. Try using organic gardening methods to control pests in your garden, and avoid using pesticides whenever possible.

Honey bees need water: They use water to regulate the temperature inside their hives during hot weather. It’s essential to ensure shallow water, with landing or perching areas for the bees.

Reduce your carbon footprint by making environmentally conscious choices in your daily life. Climate change can negatively impact honey bee populations, so reducing your carbon footprint can help mitigate this effect.

Support local beekeepers: Buying honey from local beekeepers not only supports their business but also promotes the health and welfare of bees. Local beekeepers also play a crucial role in pollination and preserving bee populations.

Educate others: Raising awareness about the importance of bees is crucial to their conservation. Share information with your friends and family about the role of bees in our ecosystem and the challenges they face

[delusionally-loveless-by-choice]

Lost in a cornfield..? Pt2

Scarecrow!Phillip Graves x Lost!Reader

summary: You learn a bit more about Mr. Scarecrow! There's something he wants to show you? What can that be?

warnings: horror aspects coming in later in the chapter >:), mention of blood, likely incorrect depictions/references to wrong periods because I forgot that light bulbs weren't invented until like 1879 (googled it), he kinda turns dark so big contrast to the first part loll

w/c - 2k

Part 1, Part 3

Author's note: its ass and its got a part 2 :)) also on ao3 under Phillip graves tag. also I know this is not a Phillip graves gif, I just wanted something to fill in so I might change it later

Oh, God, what hell is this place? You can’t help the horrified look that sits on your face, it’s paralyzing and a moment of vulnerability. 

One that the scarecrow catches.

He stares at you, watching the realization finally sink into you, and he can’t help the grin that stretches on his face as he watches your expression.

He sighs, clearly amused. “I don’t just protect this ‘cornfield’. In all honesty, this land is strange compared to the one you know.” His tone was matter of factly, “I’m a guardian of sorts, one that is bound to serve it. It’s more work than it sounds, but this job isn’t really my choice, more of a burden and purpose, y'know.” 

“This land.. It’s dangerous.” He makes sure to face you directly as he says this, you can feel the intensity of his tone. “There are things in the field that would do anything in its power to take advantage of your vulnerability. It also doesn't help that you’re their favorite meal: human.” He says the last part with an air of amusement; and though he’s looking at you, the way his straw hat is tilted, it hides a clear view of his eyes. 

His response doesn’t help your wariness. 

The scarecrow seems to take note of this. 

He then says, “But I’m not gonna let that happen.”

You nod and exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Well that’s reassuring.” You nervously chuckle. But it’s only slightly reassuring to your instincts that tell you that this field, this place, is more than dangerous.

"Just remember: this place has its creatures, but it has me too." He pauses, then adds: "I've lived here ever since I was a kid, so I know every nook and cranny of the field. Ain't no pest that's gonna sneak past me."

You see something move further within the corn. Graves snaps his fingers, and the plants rustle to block a pathway. "If we head left, we'll bypass these critters."

“Did.. did you just control the field..?” You ask bewildered. 

"Yes... The corn is a living, breathing organism. I can influence its growth and motion to an extent. The plants listen to my will." The scarecrow replies simply.

He pauses, and grabs your wrist to make you look at him. "Don't worry. The field is friendly to me--I grew up here, after all."

You look up at him, you finally get a look at eyes. They were blue but there was a yellow haze that slightly glowed further reminding you he was far from human. Whatever he was, he was terrifyingly beautiful, in the sense that you didn’t know what he was. Perhaps he was just a true eldritch horror. 

He pulls you along to walk after him.

No, he can’t be that.. Those are monsters after all.. and he’s a guardian, not a monster! You reassure yourself.

As you think and walk, you are reminded of his presence by the yellow haze of his eyes glancing toward you. He lazily turns his head away from you.

You can’t help but ask him, “How.. old are you, Scarecrow..?” this curious whisper of yours makes his ears perk.

He takes a minute to respond, as if he was thinking.

“I’ve been around for about… two-hundred and thirty years, or so.” He finally replies. “Thankfully my age and good looks don’t seem to go hand in hand,” he chuckles. 

The scarecrow smiles, then adds: "I'm proud that I've kept this place safe for so long--doing my duty, serving my purpose."

You don’t do much to mask your surprise. 

“Oh, that’s.. a long time..” You muttered.

Both of you walk for a bit, before you decide to speak again. 

“Uh.. so is there ever an end to this field? Or where are we going?” You asked, it wasn’t in an irritated tone but it sounded so.

He let out a short dry chuckle. “Sort of.. the best you're getting for an exit or end here is the house.” 

Finally with a smooth swift gesture with his hand, the corn in front of the both of you opens up.

There then lies a large acre of land, one that wasn’t infested with the corn. Though it was surrounded by the endless crop, in the middle sat a farmhouse.

It looked abandoned. A home that hadn’t taken up well with time.

The white paint was peeling, the wood of the home looked rotten. One storm, and the house is reduced to nothing.

Yet, there the home stood.

As he walked towards it without a second thought, you were gagged. 

Oh fuck, you distastefully think, but if he said it’s “a way out”.. Guess I shouldn’t judge..

“Follow me, this big ol’ thing has too many hidden entrances and exits.. I’ll take you through the safest.” he gestured for you to follow him as he made his way to the back of the farmhouse. 

You politely nod and follow him, trying to mask the faces you make at the house. 

He turns around to face you, walking backwards as he proudly says, “This beauty is the safest place to escape to in the fields.”

You smile at his pride, it's admirable and slightly adorable with that grin he has on. 

Though, as you look at him, your eyes trail down to his left side. On his waist, his flannel shirt adorns a large red stain.

You grab him by the arm and make him stop walking. A worried face plastered on, you ask, “A-Are you bleeding? Oh God..!”

"Huh? Oh, this?" The scarecrow asks, looking down at the stain, he seems unconcerned by your discovery of blood on him. "It's nothing, just old blood. I've been hurt in these fields many times before, and I've made it out alive."

“But this blood, it ain’t mine, darlin’,” he says with a sheepish grin. Almost like he’s trying to reassure you. But it seems to do the opposite, until you remember the encounter you two had earlier with that critter, as he calls them.

“Oh..” you mumbled. 

He gently pried your hand off of his arm, and started walking again. This time he directly leads you to the entrance he was talking about.

There are weeds, and junk, and rotten pieces of wood lying around. Then finally, there is a shitty little “door” that looks more like someone tried to board a window up instead of a door.

He unhooks the latch and pries open the door.

A wave of dust and spiderwebs go flying, and inside there lies only darkness. 

“C’mon, let’s head in.. there’s something I wanna show ya..” he says excitedly. 

You watch him duck and make his way in, and it doesn’t take longer than three seconds for you to follow after him in fear of being left behind.

It seems it was a basement of sorts that you entered through. It was dark so it was hard to see, but his blue eyes held that yellow glow that seemed to be all he needed to see.

He walked up some stairs and unlocked a door, one that presumably led to the main level of the farmhouse. 

“This way!” he called over to you.

You followed him deeper into the farmhouse.

He was slightly more ahead of you, solely because you were simultaneously looking around at the inside of the farmhouse.

In the main level of the home, there was some light shining from the orange hued sun outside that came in from the boarded up windows. 

The house smelled of wet wood and dust. Not surprising. 

What was slightly surprising was the furniture and general state of the home. The furniture looked so old.. very 1790. If the home was well taken care of maybe the entire place would seem homely.

Instead it felt haunted.

Not innately sinister, but just abandoned. By the owners and time.

You finished looking and turned a corner to find him. 

He stood at another staircase, holding his straw hat.  

This one clearly led to the second story. 

“All done?” he asked with a grin as he set the hat on the railing of the staircase.

“Guess so..” You mumbled and grumbled. “I thought you were taking me out of this place, not deeper into it. This farmhouse is probably dead in the center of this place with all the endless cornfield surrounding it!” 

“In time,” he quickly says, “right now it’s best that you’re here. The farmhouse,” he pouts his lips in a manner that makes it seem like he’s picking his words wisely, “has its own set of.. securities.”

His eyes make it back to yours, and before you can answer he speaks again. “Now you ready for what I wanna show you?” he asked with a grin. 

It was charming and alluring; his pearly fangs poking out and dimples on display.

It was enough to make any thoughts, defenses, and protests you had melt away.

You find yourself rolling your eyes and smiling back at him. 

“Alright.. what do you want to show me?” you finally ask with a raised brow.

“Jus’.. follow me.. It ain’t something I show to just anyone..” he says as he turns and starts to make his way up the stairs.

As you follow him up the stairs, he walks down a hallway, it’s not very well lit. 

You see the shitty discolored floral wallpaper that was definitely put up later in the owners residency from 1790. Behind the wallpaper you see the cracked walls and rotten wood that somehow surpassed the weird time.

Even in the shitty lighting you make out pictures that are hung up on the wall.

They show a family, a big one. 

One that probably lived in the house at some point and were the last known occupants before it turned into whatever it was now.

“Was this your family?” You ask him. 

He only hums, and you take that as all the confirmation you were gonna get.

You tear your eyes away from the wall and see him standing at the last door of the hallway.

It was especially dark, and for some reason you felt your body start to feel like it wanted to run. 

“C’mere, in here.” he says with that same charming grin, it makes you want to trust him even when your body is starting to vibrate with the urge to run.

He goes to open the door, and of course it creaks when it opens, it’s an old ass house.

And of course the inside is dark as shit, there’s no electricity, the house is from the near 1800s.

“After you,” his charming southern accent rings like sweet honey, and you walk right into the room.

He of course follows right after you and shuts the door behind him. 

The bit of light that shone from the hallway disappeared.

The sound of the door closing, the consumption of the room in darkness, and the click of the door being locked, cause you to turn around in the now dark to face the direction for which you think he is in.

The darkness doesn’t last, with a snap of his finger candles are set and the room is illuminated in a dim light.

Finally you get a good look at the room.

It’s small, and it smelled putrid.

You saw that the boarded up windows had curtains, but the material wasn’t cloth.

“What is..” you trailed off as the slow realization creeped in.

It was skin. 

Human skin. 

Your head reeled, you turned and saw that the rest of the room was adorned in furniture that was also made up of patches and pieces of skin stitched together. 

Your eyes wide, they searched desperately around the room but were only met with skin.

It covered every surface. 

The floor, the walls, the furniture. 

It was all human skin.

There were even a few faces stitched into the wall and ceiling, portraits that blended into the wall. 

Confused teary eyes wildly looked around the room.

You whipped around to find the scarecrow. He stood right where he had been, leaning on the locked door, the same grin plastered on his face.

This time it did nothing to ease you. Instead it felt sinister, taunting.

Your trembling lips try to say something but your voice dies in your throat.

Finally that southern voice you had some to familiarize yourself with spoke, his tone sickeningly sweet and that yellow hue in his eyes burned like the candles that lit the room, “What ya think? Beautiful, right darlin’?.”

[crevicedwelling]

Hey! This might be a kind of stupid (or insensitive) question but I was wondering about mosquitos. I’m actually pretty chill with most insects but they bite, spread diseases and a whole host of other things. I know there are a lot of scientists working right now to reduce mosquito fertility rates which I’m broadly supportive of, but I’m not sure what the unintended consequences are. Like….. would we as a species be okay if mosquitos were eradicated?

it’s entirely a valid question, and a point I hear raised a lot. the answer depends on on how far-reaching your question was intended to be:

an important thing to understand is that there are over 3500 species of mosquito, and of those, only 88 are known to transmit diseases to humans, with about 200 more that potentially could become human disease vectors (Yee et al.) most mosquitoes drink nectar—both males and females—but females typically (but not in all species/forms) require a blood meal from mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, or even other arthropods and invertebrates.

if all mosquitoes were “eradicated,” there would undoubtedly be some very bad effects on the environment, although in the utmost selfish view I’m not fully sure how long they’d take to affect humans.

many plants are pollinated by small flies (like cacao! you can thank biting midges for all your chocolate) and certainly some only by mosquitoes. mosquito pollinated plants likely include many in tropical rainforests, where mutualisms between tiny, unusual species are very common, and oddly enough in the Arctic, where soggy summers create a whole lot of mosquitoes.

likewise mosquitoes are likely an important part of the diets of many bats, birds, spiders, dragonflies, other flies, and fish that might eat the larvae, among many others (including mosquitoes that eat other mosquitoes as larvae, like the beautiful Toxorhynchites). the negative effect on these animals in turn could affect their predators, or all the other ecosystem. if all mosquitoes disappeared, there would probably be significant upheaval across global environments, although I don’t know enough to say exactly what the end result would be. making all mosquitoes go extinct would be a very bad idea though, so it’s a good thing humans have no reason or capability to do that.

but people probably don’t have the 3,000 other mosquitoes in mind when they’re trying to control the flies, it’s that 88 to 300-ish bunch that bite humans and transmit diseases. first off, any genetic/sterility control method that targets non-native mosquitoes is most likely to have only good effects. non-native mosquitoes are reduced, people are bitten less. good on both counts. (it’s still possible certain things might be upset, such as if native species have adapted to use non-native mosquitoes, or if the non-native ones were outcompeting some even worse species. don’t know enough to say.) In many places, this is precisely what’s happening, with Aedes being sterilized, modified, or infected with bacteria that cause some reduction in offspring where it is invasive.

as for eradicating mosquitoes in their native range… it gets a bit tricky. I’m not enough of an ecologist or mosquito biologist to give a clear answer here. I also don’t know if there’s consideration of using control methods like you mentioned on species in their native range.

your question was about making mosquitoes go extinct, though, so I’ll focus on that.

would losing a few species of mosquito that are particularly dangerous to humans result in ecological upheaval? I don’t know. ecology is vastly complicated and when people make big decisions involving pests, we can often make problems way worse, like all the times a predator was introduced and started killing off things we didn’t think they would (this has happened with mosquito control, by the way). extinction only goes one way. I’d say in a hypothetical situation where I could just *poof* away an entire mosquito species, I probably wouldn’t do it. we just don’t know enough about the world yet to make decisions like that.

that’s not to say there aren’t ecologically and human-friendly ways to solve the issue of mosquito-borne disease—reduction of manmade breeding pools, careful biological control, targeted, safe pesticides—and maybe in some cases, sterilization or genetic control are part of the solution. but if it comes down to extinction or not, we’d better consider things very carefully before swatting at entire species without knowing what might happen after.

some of the links to the articles I used to research a bit for this post. read them if you'd like, they're fascinating!

[honeyhobies]

checking out miles42's room and oh, his lil hanging plant near the window.....

imagining the wealth of funeral flowers the morales family gets after his dad's death. miles can't stand them, he hates that they're the only pastels in the apartment and their scent churns his stomach.

worst though are the house plants they're gifted. intended to be low maintenance, great distractions, some bit of pretty life among all the grief. rio tries to take care of them at first; she likes the look of their painted pots and setting a watering schedule is easy enough. routines are good, and the greenery does make her smile when she leaves her bedroom alone in the mornings. but then she needs to take on more hours at work, and eventually they blend into the background of the apartment, forgotten.

miles refuses to do anything with them.

when their leaves turn yellow he plucks them off so he doesn't have to clean them off the floor later. when nothing is left but withered brown twigs he takes the pot out onto the fire escape just so he can hear the terracotta shatter when he drops it into the dumpster below. the plants start disappearing one by one, and the apartment slowly returns to what it was before—or at least, a poor imitation of it, where there were no greens of various plant life scattered about but a home still filled to the brim with his dad's life. miles starts climbing the fire escape higher, pretends that the shatters from this height are louder than the grief in his own heart.

it takes him four months of mami overworking herself to realize that there's a pot of ivy that still has green leaves.

it was shoved into the corner of the kitchen window that would've been a hazardous spot if his mom was actually using the kitchenware in the cupboard next to it. but she's barely been able to cook lately and miles definitely doesn't have the kind of skills to use what's in there, so the plant was left alone, miraculously thriving on the sunshine streaming through the window. miles only notices it because his abuela is visiting and he accidentally steps on a few leaves on a vine that's grown long enough to brush the ground when he's ushered out of her way during dinner prep.

his appetite vanishes. the phantom scent of sweet decaying lilies and carnations and all the other ugly pastel flowers chokes his throat. he thought he had finally be rid of all of them, and seeing this one still left standing rears something ugly in his chest.

it's his abuela who coaxes him away from grinding his foot into the leaves, smashing them into the tile, she who says that starving something of love will always be a terrible thing to know. all four burners on their stove are going, the oven has just finished preheating, but she takes the time to fill a cup with water, gives it to him, and compliments him on keeping this small thing alive, when funeral flowers are notorious for not surviving.

it's miles who quietly moves the plant into his room that night, and he learns the rights and wrongs about repotting, sunlight, and watering.

(and, at one point, pests. but he also learns how to overcome that, even if it was an insanely annoying experience turned inside joke with ganke)

the ivy had fared well enough on its own, but it's miles who makes it happy. his hands that make it grow thicker and longer and livelier, until he needs to start tacking its vines up along the window sills to spread its greenery around. this one tiny thing no longer tiny that depends on him, that has learned he will be good to it. he did that.

miles did that.

—

later, when designing his first prowler suit, the purple accents are for his mom, a subtle nod to her favorite color. because he's trying to bring good back into his community, stepping up to do whatever he can to forcibly relinquish some of the sinister six's control over his city, but he's also fighting for her.

and the green details—there's not as many, or as prominent as all the neon purple, but he feels they're just as important to add.