#maybe even pitcher plant

[uwu-scraptrappy]

Consider the Venus Flytrap and the Eye Vacuum. Both traps have to do with the eyes, but one must sacrifice the eye, while the other must save the eyes. Why are we not shipping the guys in the traps.

Consider this; Michael (Venus Flytrap) entrusting the janitor (Eye Vacuum) with the knife to cut out the key in his eye. As the janitor saws away at Michael's eyeball to get the key, Michael is flicking the dial to break the janitor's fingers, and through them begging the other not to die, to just hurt them because if they don't they both die, they survive. Can you imagine that. Come walk with me. I'll guide you.

#we gotta get this mf a canon name #i cant just keep referring to my babygirl as that #what if i said i kinda kin michael #saw ii #saw 2 #venus fly trap #eye vacuum trap #tw eye horror #tw eye trauma #they could be t4t #also michael was the kid in elementary who would ask you for a piece of gum and when you didnt give it to him hed tell the teacher #can we call it eyetraumashipping #or just eyeshipping #maybe even pitcher plant #because carnivorous plant (flytrap) plus the tubes #alternate route: they just decide to have freak nasty t4t sex right there and then to the point jigsaws just like alright fine you can go #saw x #i might even draw these guys

[percyjavksongf]

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!.•❀

➤𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➤𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐’𝟖𝟖𝟓

➤𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

“𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 “𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝,

“𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫“

𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜

Somewhere in camp, Percy was probably off teaching younger campers how to properly wield a sword, and you? Well your contribution to Camp Half-Blood was keeping your pouting face hidden in a feather filled pillow.

You thought of dragging your tired legs off the bed and going out, doing something productive with your last few days at camp before the summer was up, but then you’d feel sick at the thought off speeding up your day by doing something productive, so you’d just sigh and roll over in your bed. Your internal fight to leave bed lasted for an hour or so before you came to the conclusion that at least sitting up in bed would be better then slowly suffocating in your bed sheets, so you did just that.

You groaned at the pop your back made when you finally pulled yourself up, gods you really needed to get out of this bed. Although you understand it probably makes a hell of a lot of more sense to actually achieve something on this crisp summer day, like run through the strawberry fields with Selina nipping at your heals, squealing with happiness as the sun beats down unforgivingly against your sweating skin. Or maybe you’d be sneaking around with Connor, he always knew how to put an honest smile of your face, even if others found him annoying, you believed he had a hidden sweetness to him that he covered up with stupid jokes and wild pranks.

You flipped through your thoughts for awhile, humming the familiar tune that drifted through the air of your mother’s cabin, Demeter, admiring the wildflowers that seemed to almost dance along with the tune. A knock at your Cabin door had you reluctantly removing your eyes from the ballet of the wildflowers and staring curiously at the door, you weren’t expecting anyone so you almost considered ignore the noise, that was until they started knocking furiously on the door and forcing you up from your comfortable position. You walked over to the door quickly in hopes to stop the awful banging that disturbed the plants and swung the door open.

“you wanna get drunk?”

Pollux.

You send him a false look of annoyance and let your eyes travel down to the pitcher of grape flavoured cool aid in his purple stained hands, he must’ve just made it.

“drunk?” you questioned incredulously, “have you finally done it? Turned water into wine! Oh you’re a little Jesus in the making!” you cried out dramatically and reach for the pitcher. Pollux, picking up on your tease right away quickly moved to hold the pitcher away from you

“ha ha, very funny. I’m obviously still working on completing that miracle, but in the mean time we could go get a sugar rush” Pollux peered behind you, raising a brow at your obviously recently occupied bed “or are you too busy?” you rolled your eyes and put a hand to Pollux’s chest, pushing him the rest of the way out of your cabin’s front door and turning to shut it behind you. You supposed it wouldn’t be much harm to spend an hour out in the fresh air.

An hour turned into five and the sun was starting to set on yours and Pollux’s makeshift dining area, the once filled pitcher was now discarded, empty and resting on it’s side. Pollux and you had moved to rest against a rough tree and people watch, making comments on possible up and coming romances in the camp.

“you know I’ve heard a few rumours about you” Pollux stated matter of factly and you gasped, turning to face him in an instant. “you have to tell me”

“no I don’t” Pollux grinned, obviously enjoying the power he had over the topic

“yes you do, you can’t bring it up and then not tell me” you state seriously, causing Pollux to grin wider “actually I just heard from the department of hidden information and yep, uh huh, ok yeah I’ll let them know. No, I don’t have to tell you” you stared unimpressed at the skit Pollux played out for you of him answering the phone to deny your request, you looked away from him and stared off at the sunset, “thats fine smart ass, I’ll just have to let Mr D know about the time you actually got drunk, and how it wasn’t done by any miracle but more so by a lie his devious son managed to get away with”

“It’s about you and Percy”

A laugh burst out of your chest at how quickly he confessed, and you failed to notice boy’s stare burning into your skin, and the slight blush forming on his face. You laughter had died down and you finally registered his rushed words.

“Percy and I? What about us” you questioned curiously. Percy and you had been joined at the hip since you first came to Camp Half-blood, both having a peculiar love for blue food and the ability to get yourselves into all sorts of trouble. You’d say you became close friends after the fight of Manhattan, you had taken a nasty blow to the head that left you unconscious for a couple of days, when you had finally awoken in the camp infirmary the first thing you noticed besides the pounding in between your ears, was the exhausted face of Percy Jackson sitting in the chair beside your bed, his restless hands fiddling with your bed sheets. Since that day Percy almost seemed to make a habit out of making sure to see you every single day. The thought snapped you back to the present, surprised you hadn’t already realised it, you hadn’t seen Percy today.

“just something about you two spending a lot more time together, thats all. You know how people around here gossip over nothing” you frowned at the bitter tone of his voice and looked back towards the camp, where was Percy?

“have you seen Percy today?” you replied, forgetting the topic of your conversation mere seconds earlier. You tried to ignore the small frown that appeared on Pollux’s mouth at the mention of Percy. Over the past few months you had noticed Pollux’s opinion of Percy shift every so slightly, he used to be overjoyed by the mention of Percy but now it seemed to be the worst thing you could talk about with him, and you weren’t really sure why.

“probably somewhere showing off his sword fighting or something” Pollux grumbled and leaned back on his hands “never mind him, lets just lounge in the sun and pretend we had a productive day”

“let us live as flowers, wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” you grin and look over to Pollux, knowing the quote will earn you an eye roll

“yeah ok flower power, just change the last part to drenched in wine and I’ll accept it” an eye roll or a dumb comment.

Your gaze returned to the camp once more and to your surprise you spot Percy only a few feet away from you, walking over at a comfortable pace. That was always something you enjoyed about Percy, he always seemed so laid back. You let a smile bloom over your face and lifted you hand up to block out the dying sun,

“hello miss wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” the shit eating grin that graced Percy’s features maked your heart flutter,

“you’re here to eavesdrop I see” you quickly take note of the new freckles that decorate his sun kissed complexion, and the gentle stream of red that’s flowing on his upper arm that makes you frown and get to your feet, at his side in an instant “Percy your arm-”

“it’s fine, really. Just comes with the job of teaching twelve year olds how to use a sword” you carefully brush your thumb over the skin just beside the cut, it was just a nick but still was un welcomed by you none the less.

You hummed and removed your hand from his skin, it almost felt like your palm was burning as it drifted away from Percy, itching for the contact once again. A forced cough from behind you steals your attention, Pollux had gathered his pitcher and gave you a tight lipped smile, “I’ll leave you to it, see you around” you gave him a smile wave and thanked him again for the cool aid, you turned away from his retreating form you’re met with another unimpressed look.

“you better hope the wind doesn’t change, Perseus”

Percy’s burnt nose wrinkles from the name, only his mother calls him by his real name.

“what have I done to deserve a full name?” he scoffed

“give me that look” you replied matter of factly

Percy’s frown deepened for a moment before springing back up into a soft smile, the wind had picked up and you watched as his hand reached forward to tuck away a strand of your hair that was moving lazily in the breeze. You stared up at Percy through your lashes, uncaring of the heat that bloomed on your face. Percy knew the effect he had on you anyways.

“Pollux doesn’t like me” Percy said, moving his hand to rest against your cheek, his calloused thumb drawing soft circles on your skin. Your eyes scan your surroundings, hoping to the gods that no one was around to disturb your moment of piece, where the cloak fell off and left Percy’s love for you proudly displayed. Percy’s other hand playfully pinched the exposed skin on your waist and your eyes fixed to his once more. “don’t worry about them, let them see us”

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally at that, Percy and you had decided to keep your budding romance to yourselves when it first began, when the war had just ended and you felt it was best to leave that detail out, more focused on the loss of your fellow campers and dealing with that grief. But as the months went on you had still stayed the same, secret meetings after the camp fire had died down, sneaking into the lake with the help of the Percy’s air bubbles, only the fish that inhabited there knew of your love for each other. Sometimes during a particularly serious game of capture the flag, one where you and Percy were on different teams, he would manage to sneak up on you a steal a quick kiss before running off with a laugh in attempts to through you off your game. You’d always return the kiss later after your team won.

“why do you think Pollux doesn’t like you?” you questioned

“because he likes you” Percy replied much to your surprise “it’s all anyone at camp can talk about these days, they swear he’s going to ask you out any day now” it’s hard to miss the slight grumble in his voice as he goes on about how Pollux has been flirting with you for months, but you honestly hadn’t picked up on it. Right now you were more focused on the way Percy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the mention of Pollux trying to woo you. You’d had reached the wooded area of camp and reached for Percy’s hand then, your fingers intertwined and you positioned yourself in front of him, now walking backwards to face him as you spoke. Percy seemed to be more focused on guiding you away from any trees unknown to you.

“I don’t think he dislikes you, Percy. He’s never said anything bad about you” you said, Percy hands moved to your hips to side step you away from a fallen branch.

“he’s never said bad about me to you, probably” Percy said

“probably, see it’s not definite” you attempted to reason, any other words leaving your mind in a heartbeat when you feel the scratchy bark of a tree pressed against your back. You eyes stayed glued to Percy’s as he stepped closer to you, his hands drifting up to your waist. You looked around then to see if any campers, or gods forbid, Mr D, were taking a stroll through the woods at this time. Percy’s fingers resting on your jaw beckoned your attention back to him “always looking around” he spoke lowly, his words for you and you alone.

“are you sure you want to make this known?” you’re unsure why you whispered it, there was no one around anyways. But you still felt nervous, it only took one person to see before the news would spread like wildfire, and you would be bombarded with invasive questions and ‘how could you not tell me!’ from your siblings. Too be honest you kind of liked being a little secret, knowing you had Percy all to yourself. But you knew how much better it would be to not have to sneak around everywhere, the teasing would die down eventually and your relationship would be common knowledge.

“I think we’ve hidden this away for way to long, I want everyone to know you’re my girl”

you can’t contain the smile that his words bring you, his girl.

“we’ll only if you’re ok with that, of course” he followed up with quickly

“yeah I think it’s about time I explain to Miranda why I keep waking her up at three in the morning to let me in through the window” you laughed, imagining the look on her face when you finally spill the beans to her, she’s undoubtedly by excited by the news, but probably also scold you for keeping it from her for so long.

The sun’s golden rays poured down through the dancing leaves that dressed the trees and sunk into your skin, you watched as Percy’s eyes almost seemed to glow in the light, he was summer’s child.

You relaxed against the tree and pulled Percy closer to you, and for a moment you let the world consist of just the two of you. You never thought it ever would, even though the two of you had been friends since the age of twelve there was never a time where you could just breathe together. there was always a quest, or a battle, or a four thousand year old girl who Percy vanished with for two weeks, that one had caused a raft between you for a few weeks.

But now you simply exist together, and it makes everything worth it.

You brought a hand up to rest against his upper arm, revelling in the heat that was coming of his dirt covered skin, you made a mental note to tease him about it later and send him off to the showers. Your hand continued it travels upwards and you finally landed in the space between his shoulder and his neck, running a thumb against the underside of his jaw.

“you in love with me or something?” Percy teased, drawing a hum from you in response

“I might just be, Jackson” you grinned, before letting out a gasp as Percy dipped his head quickly and kissed you. It started off heavy and warmed you up like nothing else, it slowed down into soft pecks before Percy drew away, not without pressing on last kiss to your redden lips.

“I might just love you too” Percy breathes out, dipping back down again to press his lips to the side of your mouth, “my sweet girl” he mumbled against your lips finally before pressing one last kiss to them.

“Percy” you whispered, putting a hand against his chest to create some distance as you flushed at the realisation of how exposed the two of you were. Percy took a step back with a smug grin, his hands never leaving you.

“you are though” Percy continues, causing you shove against him gently in protest “my sweet girl, or do you prefer my girl, cus you know both statements are true-”

“shut up” you whine out in embarrassment, he was so shameless. Percy laughed at your protest and took your hand in his, pulling you towards the rows of cabins.

“what’re we doing?” you said, letting him lead you away from the shade of the trees, Percy only smiled at you before continuing ahead

“we’re going to hang out with the rest of the campers, maybe your friend Pollux will be there”

you give him a deadpan look at the mention of Pollux, still wondering how a man like Percy could be jealous of your friendship with Pollux, it was obvious you only had eyes for him.

“and why are you so eager to get us there?” you questioned curiously

“cus I want them all to see that you’re my girl” he stated back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a quick kiss against. You sighed and made a show of dramatically rolling your eyes.

I guess he was sticking to that term, his girl.

...

a/n: helloooo, wrote this in a couple of hours so it's rushed like all of my works <3 my first non christmas inspired percy work so i hope yous like it!!!

#percy jackson #book percy jackson #pjo #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #x reader #pjo fandom #fanfic #connor stoll #selina beauregard #pjoverse

[forthelostones]

helpless ─── ⋆

°:. *₊ ° . masc*!reader x farmhand!ellie °:. *₊ ° .

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!ellie, fingering (e receiving), finger sucking, mentions of female genitalia (referring 2 reader)

*more masc or 'stem', just not femme! hopefully, that's clear.

synopsis: you and ellie are working tirelessly to restore your house near the farm. the pressure builds up and she needs a stress reliever amid the chaos.

an: hi everyone! thanks for all your likes and follows i really appreciate the support. idk i had a hard time figuring out how i wanted to write this. i feel like maybe it's not as long as i hoped but I've been holding on to it. anyways, enjoy x.

wc: 1.2k

Night fell quickly without you even noticing it and Ellie was nowhere to be found. You looked up in the kitchen, where you were retiling the floor, covered in dust, you wiped your hands on your utility pants. You let out a sigh as you toss your head back, your muscles burned from the amount of energy that you had to exert to rip up the old tiles. The wind blew through the windows cooly, sending a chill down your back. You lean over the windowsill and peek out to see the lights in the barn. 

“Ellie!” You holler. 

You look at your progress and smile sweetly, even though it wasn’t even 40% of the flooring, you still admire your persistence. You walk over to the leaking fridge, remembering that you should fix that, and open it to pull a pitcher of lemonade El made you earlier. It was tart, very little sugar, and heavily refreshing. You rubbed your hands over your stomach realizing how sore you become from bending over all day. You hear the front door close as Ellie's boots clobber on the hard, old wood, and you glance to see her covered in dirt and sweat. Her muscles spilled out of her once-white tank top, glistening with sweat, mixed with sprinkles of hay. She smiles weakly at you.

“Look at you,” She mutters. 

You sip your lemonade and tilt your head as she strides towards you hands on her hips, observing your work like she was your boss. 

“Okay, okay…” 

You took her hips in your hands and planted a smooth kiss on her mouth. “You smell like the barn.” You laugh while your lips still pressed on hers. She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her neck you can’t help but stare at her.

After making it into your shower, and washing your handwork away, you wrapped a towel around your body and made it into your shared messy bedroom. You sighed as you thought about all the work left to do, but then you saw Ellie lying in bed, her glasses on, reading a comic you bought for her last Christmas. You rummaged through your boxes to find a pair of boxers and your hoodie. After you got dressed you laid your head in Ellie’s lap, she stole your night shirt from last evening and your sleeping shorts. Her hands cupped around your cheek, her touch was warm, and soothing. 

“Our carrots are growing nicely,” she smiled. 

“Are they, that’s good, we can have … stew?” You roll up on your elbow looking up at her. 

She looked so sweet in her oversized glasses, perched on her nose, eyes rolling with interest in a plot she knew so well. You scooted up to the headboard and peeked over her shoulder at the storyboard pages. Sleepily you lay your head on her shoulder, surprised that she even has the energy to read. Your eyes fall lazily on her warm neck, that’s beckoning you to touch it. You toss your head back, fighting away your urges, oh but what will one kiss hurt? You wet your lips and press them against her neck but she doesn’t flinch. Ellie felt how close you had come to her and your lips were like a hot breeze on a cool day. She didn’t lean into you anymore, focusing on her comic, flicking the page. 

Your hand travels over her belly, placing your index finger in her shorts, and running it softly along the hem. She loved the feeling of your fingers rubbing against her sensitive waist, tracing her hipbones as she unconsciously shifted at your touch. You lay another kiss but this time closer to her ear, and she twitches at. “Any more crops worth sharing?” You ask.

“Yes, I actually planted herbal seeds.” 

You kiss her again but this time your tongue and she melted. She began to feel her lust bud in her short.

“Basil? Oregano? What, use your words Els.” You sputter low into her crease. 

Ellie’s eyes closed at the vibrations of your voice echo inside her. When you told her to use her words, she slipped deeper. 

“Oh—right, right,” she stumbled as she adjusted her glasses. “Yes to Basil for soup and Sage too.” 

“Ahh. Good job, I’m sure I’ll use a lot of this for our dinners.” 

Another kiss, but this time you didn’t stop, one after another, the next one harder than the next. Her legs spread wider than before, imagining your lips meeting hers. Her hand reaches for your chest, pushing you away gently, fighting your touch. 

“Sorry love, go ‘head and read.” You say not slowing down. 

Her finger toils the page, never turning it, eyes focused on the same word as your tongue swirls around her earlobe. She huffs and presses downwards into the mattress. She pulls away again only to remove her glasses and lean in for a kiss. As her lips almost reach yours, you lean your head away from her, her eyebrows raise at your boldness. She thought she was mistaken and approached you again and you rejected her. 

She closes her comic and wastes no time to draw her leg over your lap to sit on top of you. She pulls off her shirt to expose her puffy nipples, begging you to kiss them. “Now you don’t wanna touch me?” She spat. 

You just remain silent, watching clusters of goosebumps travel across her body as her cheeks turn rosy. You put your hands behind your head as you feel her ass press into your lap, slowly working up into a grind. 

“Please?” She whines. 

You don’t even react to her advances other than the warmth budding inside your boxers. Ellie’s hands run over your t-shirt, pressing against your nipples as she leans in to pull the tip of her tongue from your collarbones all the way to your neck. 

“I need you.” She whispers. 

You exhale at hearing her pleads as her hips buck harder against you. But you don’t give in even though her lips feel so warm against your throat. She grabs your hands and runs your index and middle fingers against her bottom lip. She slips the tip of your fingers in her mouth, wrapping her desperate tongue around the length of them. Her lips pucker with saliva as she removes them. She takes your hand and slides it in her shorts and you finally feel how much she wants you. 

She lifts up your shirt exposing your freshly washed skin and presses her cold palms against your breasts. A gasp catches in your throat at how good it finally felt to have her skin against yours. She presses her sensitive clit against your calloused fingertips, riding them slow, making sure you felt her. 

“Are you really going to do this?” She groans. 

“Do what?” You ask, slowly entering your fingers inside her.

She throws her head back, forcing your name out, resting on her hands, twisting her hips upwards, to give you a show. She clinches around your fingers grinding, and you almost droll at her pink hole gripping them so beautifully. Her eyes melt into yours with desire. 

“Fuck.” She groans. 

You curl your fingers, gently massaging her sweet spot, and she presses down even more, sitting upright and massaging her nipples. But you take her her wrist and use your freehand and clench them in front of her chest. 

“Can I cum for you?”

You stare at her, mouth open and eyes wet. 

“L-Let me cum for you p-pl-lease.” She stutters as you apply more pressure.  

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie the last of us #sub ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x masc reader #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie smut #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #masc reader

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-four of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

“I’d say maybe a picnic in the park or something but that seems incredibly dangerous unless I can pre-verify that Ivy’s in Arkham,” Tim muses, smacking a few more goons upside the skull. The others are already scattering to bolt, and there’s not much point in chasing them down; they broke up the deal and sent the suppliers running, and that was the main concern. Now they can track down their source and go from there. “And even then it’s kinda fifty-fifty.” 

“Yeah, you never know what she’s left out there,” Dick agrees. “Plus sometimes the things she’s left out there cross-pollinate, and then no one knows what’s out there, including her.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Tim says with a grimace, having unpleasant flashbacks to the skunkweed thorns and pitcher plant trees. Ivy’s creative enough without any accidental cross-pollination happening. 

“So what does planning a date have to do with that YJ-related op?” Dick inquires casually as the last of the grunts either hit the ground or flee. Tim does not freeze, because he's not fucking new here. 

“Nothing,” he lies. “I’m cycling through the projects I have scheduled to work on this week. Next there’s a stakeout uptown and some reoptimization of my utility belt organization.” 

“Planning dates is in the same category as ops and stakeouts and equipment maintenance, huh?” Dick asks with a laugh, holstering his sticks and then reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Never change, baby bird.” 

Tim is absolutely going to, but again, hopefully not before thirty and ideally while bringing Dick along for the ride. Dick would be a terrible supervillain and also probably pout if Tim put Superman in a kryptonite death trap to sit and think about what he’s done, but Tim loves him and wants him to be happy and also wants to make this awful fucking world a better place, and you don’t do that by just ditching all your friends and co-workers; you plan ahead and work with them, flaws and all. 

Anyway, Barbara would be good at being a supervillain, and she’d be a lot likelier to come along for the ride if Dick did. So that’s also another reason to recruit him. 

They’d both probably like to kill the Joker, anyway. Maybe they could make the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan a group activity? That’d be nice. 

Look, Batman doesn’t kill, obviously, but Tim isn’t Batman, Dick and Babs are also not Batman, and none of them ever intend to be. So “Batman doesn’t kill” is, in fact, only Bruce’s problem. 

“So I know you’re going to laugh at me for this, but you know the circus is in town next week, right?” Dick says, sparing him a smirk. Tim considers tripping him with his bo staff. “You know, for this totally theoretical and generic one-size-fits-all date that you definitely don’t have anyone in mind for.” 

“While I appreciate the suggestion, the person I don’t have anything in mind for has terrible self-esteem and I promised her someplace ‘nice’ for this totally theoretical and generic one-size-fits-all date,” Tim says, because he is definitely still in the closet here and he is not giving a Bat the clue of saying “they” to obfuscate Kon’s gender. Might as well light the Bat signal with a pride flag filter over it, for fuck’s sake. “She might take fifteen-dollar tickets and sawdust floors the wrong way.” 

“That just means she lacks taste, baby bird,” Dick hums easily, putting his hands on his hips and tapping a foot in consideration. “Hm. Well, Zatanna also happens to be in town next week.” 

Tim considers what it’d do to his self-esteem to watch Kon spend an hour-long show drooling over a gorgeous older woman in fishnets, spanks, and a sexy tuxedo jacket and decides not to go there. Also, there’s the issue of Zatanna potentially recognizing him, and also potentially recognizing Kon, who he doesn’t think she’s ever met but is both terrible at secret identities and a teen heartthrob superhero whose face is all over the place and also looks exactly like Superman’s on top of that. And Zatanna has definitely met Superman.

So yeah, that seems unlikely to end well either way. 

“Maybe,” he says, finally retracting his staff and putting it away. “I don’t know if she likes going to any kind of shows, honestly. Like–I just don’t know her that well yet. Theoretically, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Dick agrees with a laugh, pulling out his grappling gun and wagging it at him. “Race you back to the Cave? Winner gets tips on how to charm a totally normal civilian who definitely doesn’t fight crime in a cheerleader skirt.” 

Tim has no idea how he feels about the fact Dick is so certain Cissie is the one he’s trying to plan a date for. Then again, Cissie is the one who yelled at half the Justice League. So maybe he sort of understands the assumption. 

Kon looks better in a crop top, though, Tim privately promises himself to never actually say out loud. Like, he definitely does look better, in Tim’s opinion, but a) Cissie would shoot him for said opinion and b) Kon would be unbearably smug about said opinion. And unfortunately, Tim finds Kon’s preening smugness increasingly charming, so he really can’t be doing that to himself. 

He was so damn proud of himself about the fucking crop top, the bastard. Tim should burn it. Or buy him twenty more. One or the other. 

The shorts he’s just not going to think about right now. Like. Ever again. 

He’s pretty sure they’d work better with a thong than boxer briefs, though. Or just going commando outright, maybe. Tactile telekinesis probably makes chafing less of a concern, Tim figures. 

Not that he’s thought about that. At all. In any way. Ever. 

Definitely not. 

Dick fires his grapple and takes off. Tim pretends to be extremely heterosexual about Cissie and not even slightly gay about Kon, though he has very little idea how to actually do that, and rushes after him. There’s basically no way he’s actually going to beat Dick unless criminal activity interferes or Dick just lets him beat him, of course, because Dick’s been flying all his life and flying in specifically Gotham since he was literally prepubescent, and Tim has just been sneaking around random rooftops and alleyways and only actually known how to do a basic somersault for a couple of years, much less any real acrobatics or aerial work. So like, there’s definitely a skill gap there. 

Might as well chuck a flying fish at a hummingbird and see who comes out ahead, really. 

Technically, though, Dick mostly works out of Bludhaven these days, so technically . . . 

Look, Tim just so happens to know about certain construction-related shortcuts that may or may not be currently relevant thanks to some surprise rogue attacks last week, and even if he weren’t pretending to be heterosexual about Cissie he’d be trying to beat Dick back to get first dibs on Alfred’s jaffa cakes, so . . . 

The jaffa cakes are delicious, though the dating advice is unfortunately irrelevant. 

Tim appreciates the thought, at least.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[fumifooms]

And now I’m truly going off the rails bc of last asker but I have thought about what plant fits who and it’s my time to shine…

Mithrun is a succulent because they look like flowers but aren’t (tougher and also kind of duller), are elegant yet minimalist, and they’re low maintenance (you could definitely argue that Mithrun is high maintenance instead but I went the opposite route of him never feeling like he needs much water, attention and whatnot). I prefer the classic one that’s a pale greyish green for him but there are so many that are neat…

Kabru as a big floating bladderwort… A carnivorous aquatic plant that traps little aquatic critters. If you just look at the flower it looks so pretty and harmless, distracts from the roots scheming murder… Also it’s an aquatic plant, gives me the vibe of something surviving/thriving in an environment that shouldn’t be theirs but they’ve adapted, like a tallman in elf society…..

I also associate him a ton with himalayan blue poppies, for obvious reasons. Insane that the shade of blue of his eyes is associated with the throat chakra btw, Kui’s always doing 8d chess my god.

For Izutsumi, Faassen's Catmint. It's a species of catnip but a man-made hybrid and not a natural species. It kind of looks like a long puffy cat tail with the shape, and it has a lot of little flowers… Kind of subtle/bland and unassuming at first look, but colorful and sweet if you take the time to look. Feels sort of vulnerable/or even cold at first but like they’re just looking out for themselves even if they are not someone unemotional….. It makes sense to me. Babygirl. Purple is an unexpected choice for her but it feels right

Chilchuck echinopsis calochlora or golden barrel cactus… The first one is smaller, but I was trying to find the perfect lil cactus guy with orange spines and couldn’t really find any that was just perfect. Chilchuck "I am so approachable" Tims, literally round and spiny with his little hairs but also metaphorically fitting… Also the gooden barrel cactus has a bunch of lil yellow flowers that sprout on its top while the calochlora has HUGE stalks with a big white flower that sprouts so like, if you want to take that to be his big heart once he reveals it or the little flowers of his care……

Falin is the funky living rocks plant. They have cryptid energy and are just so weird and colorful and unique. A little unfeeling. Sad that she doesn’t get a plant that’s fun to eat but come on.

I feel like Laios would also be a cactus, with maybe juice that has funky properties kind of like peyote… He’s reserved and [spoilers], but he either has no spines or small/few spines so he doesn’t look all that uninviting or tough… Probably has very pretty colorful flowers! Or he’s like Falin and loves dandelions and bishop’s lace because he can eat it. Or maybe he’d be a vegetable. Sweet potato… Someone said carnivorous plant to which I suggest pitcher plant or sarracenia.

I see Senshi as basil. Enough said. Something that can be turned into spices and is all greenery that’s all I need

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. I had these thoughts months ago while sick and feverish </3 Possessed by the want to draw the cast as little plants…….. That would be nice……

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun #kabru #izutsumi #Is this anything……. Ok stopping tagging chars here #Flower symbolism #Fumi rambles

[bogleech]

What are your favourite dragon quest monsters across the entire series?

The first Dragon Quest Monsters game I've ever gotten to play wound up being the first one to leave out exactly the top three I looked forward to getting:

GIANTSLUG/MAULUSC: I'm pickier about slug and snail creatures than you maybe expect but I love the vapid drippy zombie face of the DQ slug. It perfectly captures the appeal of a slug as a monster, a mindless gooey thing that will just eat you without a care. And its classic color scheme is that of a Banana Slug!!

BELZEBUB: I am also picky about fly creatures; usually I want them to have the proboscis present in some way, and the correct number of wings (two). There's something I still love about the toothy mouth of Belzebub however, maybe the way it curls up between the eyes? It just does a good job capturing the feel of a fly's personality I guess.

DARKEYE/EYELASHER: eye creatures can also very easily feel a bit boring to me because I've just seen so, so many of them, but DQ's basic killer eyeball appeals to me a lot with its irregular fungus-like collection of tentacles. The little root branches on "top" are especially cool to me, and sometimes they're the bottom, because they represent where the eyeball attaches to either floors or ceilings! In a few games, they're even encountered as parasites inside bigger monsters!

I used to admire the guidebook to the first two DQ Monsters games as a kid but never had the games themselves, and never got around to any other DQ titles. I just spent my whole life waiting for just the right one where I'd finally get to assemble my three favorites, then finally this new one comes out and has to be the first time these three took a vacation :( But, Dark Prince was at least nice enough to include exactly my next three favorites in the franchise. I went over them already in my DQM Dark Prince post but some people will see this post first so I will have to reintroduce them:

DROHL: droopy flappy membranous mollusk guys, honestly horrible looking in a great way. In 3d games it turns out their helmetlike head spirals in the back like a snail shell! Apparently they're meant to be troll-like beings.

LUNATICK: just a blue fleshy sac thing with gooey antennae, a bunch of tentacles (most of them segmented like worms!) and a little eyeball, perfect, no criticisms, also reminds me of what Berserk considers an "Incubus:"

(Don't worry, Berserk Incubus aren't sex monsters but monsters that give you nightmares and feed on the fear)

TAILEATER/MAD MOLLUSK: I love how pathetic their front face looks, and the whole shape is so pleasantly reminiscent of an abyssal sea cucumber of some kind.

SKULLROO/GUAARDVARK: I didn't even realize this was one of my top favorites until getting it in Dark Prince. It's an unpleasant wrinkly fat aardvark kangaroo thing that just always carries a human skull around. Its profile says they collect them and the one they carry is their favorite! A lot of slightly lower favorites were also left out however, none of these are in Dark Prince but are very high up there to me:

PYURO: what is this thing? I don't know! Different games have categorized it as an insect or a plant. It's a furball with five eyes encircling a butterfly proboscis, two little legs and a big huge ring of flower petals behind it. Very xenobiology.

TONGUELLA: it's kinda like a dumpy, hairless sloth with an aardvark tail with a mushed-in dog face and a giant gross tongue. I guess I just like foul moist beasts. I wish this was a real mammal we had in the world, I bet it'd smell terrible. Feels like a perfect counterpart to Guaardvark.

SLURPERON: it's one tiny pitcher plant with a giant tongue and then it has cool reptilian eyes at the bottom end. So simple and so rad! A fun way to stylize a pitcher plant monster without ripping off Victreebel.

SICKLER: is a little tiny mantis in a robe, like the Tonberry from Final Fantasy but a mantis

RAGIN' CONTAGION: a newer one, a gooey vaporous cyclops ghost that represents disease. In its first appearance as a boss in the series the English localizers decided it should talk like Yosemite Sam. Sure why not!

So I like the new game and it gave me some new favorites like Skellyfish and new appreciation for some others, but oddly it only has my very middle all-time faves

#dragon quest

[heich0e]

bff's little brother!tobio series

there's a window on the east-facing wall of the guest room in tobio's apartment.

every morning, when the sun rises high enough to crest the tall, sandy yellow stone building next door, the morning light soaks through the gauzy curtains over the window and begins to slowly warm the room. the gentle heat and morning breeze is how you've woken up almost every day since you've arrived to stay with the youngest kageyama sibling in rome.

almost.

the shrill ringing of your cellphone is the sound that pulls you unceremoniously from slumber one particular morning, five days into your nine day trip. your tired eyes blink away bleariness to try and read the caller ID, fluttering shut again even as you answer the video call. 

"good morning, sleepyhead."

"miwa, it's six o'clock here."

"i know that, but it’s already one here and i'm on my lunchbreak."

you roll yourself over in the soft sheets of your temporary bed and grumble sullenly to yourself, burrowing your face into the pillows to muffled your words.

"was that italian? you know i don't speak it," miwa’s voice complains flatly from the speaker of your discarded phone.

you lift your face from the plume of your pillows only enough make your next words intelligible. "no, i was just cussing you out in plain old japanese.”

you promptly wiggle your entire head back underneath the cushions.

"is that any way to greet your best friend who sent you on the trip of a lifetime?"

you lift your head from where you have it buried under cotton and feathers. you sigh.

you shuffle around in bed so that your tousled hair and tired face are visible in the camera’s frame.

"good morning, miwa.”

you tote your cellphone out to the kitchen with you once you pull yourself up out of bed, while miwa chatters on about her work and what she’s been up to for the past few days since you’ve been gone—as though you haven’t been regularly keeping in touch via text.

“so,” miwa’s voice trails off as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, and you glance over towards where you have your phone propped up against a sad looking basil plant on tobio’s kitchen counter—‘a gift’ he’d explained sheepishly when you’d found it tucked in a dark corner on the other side of the kitchen, looking sad and wilted. in just the few days since you’d moved it to a sunny spot near the kitchen window it has already perked up.

“so what?” you ask, shuffling over and leaning against the counter on your elbows to peer at the phone screen. 

“how’s my little brother? living in squalor?” 

“i already told you his apartment is gorgeous,” you laugh, pushing your hair back from your face. “he even has houseplants.” 

not in great condition, you want to add but decide to keep to yourself. 

“yeah, yeah, i’ve seen the photos,” miwa says dismissively. she nibbles on her lip on the other side of the call. “is he homesick?” she asks after a moment, and the look in her eyes tells you she’s more concerned about her little brother than she wants to let on.

miwa tries not to worry about tobio, knows he’s a grown man with his own life, but some habits run too deep to shake no matter how old the two of them get. he’ll always just be little tobio to her.

you’ve always felt the same.

“he hasn’t really let on,” you say, taking another little sip from your glass of water. 

you think about tobio, really think about him, and how he’s acted since your arrival. he’s been the same as always, you decide, though maybe a little… closer? he’s not home much thanks to his training schedule, but you expected as much before you even got on the plane to rome. you knew you’d be left entertaining yourself for much of your trip, but when tobio is home it’s like he… hovers.

not imposingly.

not unwelcomely.

just like he… wants to be close.

it’s kind of sweet.

he sits at your feet in the living room while you’re watching television with the volume down low in the afternoon, even though there’s room next to you on the sofa, and listens to you talk about where you went sightseeing that day. he stands in the doorway to the galley style kitchen in his apartment while you prepare dinner, asking if there’s anything he can help with. he’s actually a pretty competent sous-chef, and you often let him peel and chop ingredients for you while you man the stove. you’re relieved to see he’s picked up at least basic cooking skills since leaving home.

which reminds you.

“oh, i have to eat breakfast,” you mumble.

“what are you gonna make? spaghetti?” miwa asks excitedly.

“it’s six thirty in the morning,” you snort, shuffling to the other side of the kitchen. you’re all for when in rome but you’re not sure you’re willing to take things that far. “tobio always leaves some of whatever he makes himself for breakfast for me anyway.”

miwa goes quiet on the other side of the phone, watching as you plate a small portion of steaming rice from the little rice cooker tobio brought with him from japan onto the plate of sunny yellow omelet and vegetables he’d left for you. tokyo is loud around her, sitting on a bench outside while she enjoys the last few minutes of her lunch break, while you shuffle around tobio’s sun soaked kitchen on the other side of the world.

she knows you too well, she thinks, as she watches you douse your food in chilli pepper (that she’s confident you brought with you in your carry-on bag) just like you always have. you grab a set of chopsticks and take a bite, scrunching up your nose because you like the way it tastes, just like you’ve done since you were a kid. 

she knows you almost as well as she knows her baby brother, who she’s sure is training with that look on his face he always has—driven, hyperfocused, intense. that his shoes are double knotted in the special way she taught him to when he was five and that he never stopped doing. that he probably ate his breakfast with chilli flakes too.

you set your plate down in front of the phone and blink at your friend’s soft smile.

“what?” you ask curiously, a bite of rice tucked against your cheek.

miwa doesn’t bother telling you that ali roma provides the team with breakfast in the mornings, and that tobio must have made that food just for you.

#kageyama tobio #kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama tobio x reader #bffs little brother!tobio #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

[gabessquishytum]

https://www.tumblr.com/toonlink1210/734885801810345984/wasnt-a-beautiful-night-pesis-is-gone?source=share

Very much a crack post, but all I can envision is Dream messing around with some Custom™ Genitalia and equips himself with a Pitcher Plant style hole. Of course, Hob doesn't actually want to lose his dick in acid in reality (the re-growth process would be terrible) but hey, he's down to try anything once in the Dreaming. Dream just considers it extra incentive for Hob to please him as quickly as possible. The longer he takes, the smaller his dick gets.

This may be crack but it's also brilliant. I think Hob would be SO up for it, in the dreaming. It covers so many of his favourite things: stupid bets, Dream’s bizarre genitalia, sex with Dream in general... he's totally convinced that he can make Dream cum, before his dick withers away to nothing.

Hob just ends up being concerned that he's actually kind of into the whole "watching his dick get smaller" thing. It doesn't hurt, it just tingles and kind of burns a little bit. And it really is fascinating to watch Dream’s cunt literally eating away at his body. Hob is definitely enjoying it enough to be even more enthusiastic than usual, and he does end up making Dream cum. In fact, he squirts a spectacular jet of acid - that definitely eats up whatever was left of Hob’s dick very rapidly. Dream looks very pleased with himself. Hob is just sad that he didn't get to cum too.

But Dream makes it up to him later on with more elaborate carnivorous plant roleplay. So all is well. Maybe this time, he'll give himself a venus fly trap style genital arrangement and SNAP down on Hob’s cock just as hes getting close...

#kydrogendragon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw monsterfucking #cw genitalia

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot Extra #3

Masterpost

Warnings: none

This is not currently canon, but would take place much later into Elliot’s recovery, when he finally knows about Ambrose’s immortality and abandonment, but not the details. This may become canon later, I haven't decided

It was a Friday night, the last one before planting season, and the dining room was packed. It was more of a meeting than anything else, but Master Ambrose prided himself on being a good host, and Elliot would follow his wishes.

Elliot helped him send out a steady supply of platters laden with food, and drinks flowed over the chatter.

“So we’re going to rotate the fields this year-” 

“Well what about the sheep-”

“I’m just saying the orchards-”

“Ambrose, sir, I need more bread for the table,” he called as he put down more pints of ale.

“Got it.” Ambrose went to the kitchen to slice a new loaf.

The dull roar of the dining room suddenly turned to silence.

He looked up. 

Elliot had never seen a god before, but there was no mistaking him. He was tall, even taller than Ambrose, with reddish brown hair and one golden eye. 

He was looking around the room, and he was holding a bouquet of purple and white flowers.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low and smooth, is Ambrose here?”

No one answered him.

It couldn’t be… could it?

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and then a clatter. Ambrose stood in the doorway, platter and bread at his feet.

The god beamed. “Darling,” he said, stepping towards Ambrose. Ambrose stalked forwards, his face stormy, and the god paused.

Ambrose raised a hand, and slapped the god across the face with full force. The crowd gasped, and Elliot winced.

The god didn’t move away, still holding the flowers. “I am so sorry, my love.”

“Sixty-five years,” said Ambrose, his eyes closed, face unreadable. “Without a fucking word.”

Elliot had never seen him so angry before.

“I know.”

“You left me!” he shouted, voice breaking, tears beginning to flow down his face. “You bastard!”

“I’m sorry, Rosey.”

“Don’t ‘Rosey’ me! Where have you been?!”

“I- I’d rather not say in front of-” Ambrose grabbed the god by the wrist, and they marched upstairs, the flowers dropped and forgotten on the floor.

Somebody cleared their throat, and the crowd launched back into discussion about the upcoming growing season.

Michael sat on the chair nearest him. “Did you know?”

“I knew he was married, but-” Elliot shrugged.

Michael looked up from his tankard. “None of us knew either, but I thought he’d at least tell you he was married to a damn god, especially the god of lies.”

Elliot bristled. 

“Michael!” snapped Judy from across the room.

“We don’t talk much about the past,” bit out Elliot. Michael, for his part, looked chagrined.

Elliot didn’t know who exactly knew the details about his old life, but the regret on Micheal’s face told him that the man knew some.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have guessed.”

Elliot picked up the bouquet of flowers. Some of its petals had dropped to the floor, but miraculously they were growing back.

Of course they were magic flowers.

“I’m going upstairs,” he announced to the room. No one stopped him.

He found an old water pitcher in his room, and plopped the flowers in.

He didn’t hear any screaming from Master’s room, which seemed like a good sign.

Elliot cautiously made his way upstairs, holding the flowers.

He knocked and pushed open the door. Ambrose and the god were sitting on the couch, hands locked together and tear tracks on Ambrose’s face.

Ambrose looked up, wiping his face. “Oh, uh, come in, Ellie.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Master,” he said. He put the flowers on the altar in the corner, and he realized the statue of Ambrose’s god was actually his husband.

“It’s fine. Janus, this is my friend, Elliot. Elliot, this is my husband, Janus.” Elliot did not look at the god’s face. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Janus. His gut twisted. Michael had said he was the god of lies.

But then again… If Ambrose married him, maybe he was okay.

He hesitated. “Likewise,” he managed, and Janus smiled at him. Soft and gentle, just like his statue.

___________________

Ambrose slammed open the door and kicked it closed behind them. 

He whirled on Janus. “So,” he crossed his arms, anger draining out of him. “Where have you been?”

“Well, you know how Mael and I never got along for long?”

“I recall.”

“I may or may not have been turned to stone for a while.”

Ambrose pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Stone.”

“I came as soon as I could, I promise.”

The story checked out as far as he knew. Mael and Janus had a famous rivalry, and it was sometimes less than friendly. Mael was not above turning a fellow god into a statue. Janus was not quite as proficient at physical magic as Mael, better suited to mental tricks.

On top of which, the other gods wouldn’t have been interested in getting involved in their petty arguments. Ambrose knew some of them; they often rolled their eyes at Janus and Mael. They might have thought Janus deserved it.

It made sense it took over fifty years for him to break the spell.

“Are we divorced?” asked Janus gently. “I understand if you want me to g-”

“You’re an idiot.” Ambrose took Janus’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

They sat down on the couch. Ambrose couldn’t bear to stay mad at Janus.

“You know, it’s awfully rude Mael didn’t tell me about your predicament. Wasn’t he at the wedding?”

Janus laughed, running his fingers over Ambrose’s knuckles. “I’ll let him know you’re offended.”

There was a knock on the door.

___________________

“There’s something strange about that boy,” said Janus, long after they had indulged themselves with each other. “What’s wrong with him?”

Ambrose sighed. “It’s not really any of your business.” Janus rolled onto his side, facing him.

“I’m just concerned,” he said, “Is he okay?” His hand drifted to the curve of Ambrose’s side, his thumb rubbing over the bare skin like he was fragile but irresistible. Ambrose shifted closer to him.

“No, but… he’s better than before.”

“How did you meet?”

“He came in one night begging for food. He was starving to death, and I wasn’t going to refuse.”

Janus nodded. His hand moved up past Ambrose’s ribs to his cheek. Ambrose leaned into his hand. He had missed Janus so much.

“How long ago was that?”

“Uh, three years give or take. He’s been staying here since. And I won’t make him leave, so deal with it,” he warned Janus.

“I wasn’t objecting. Just curious. He called you ‘master’ earlier. You didn’t-?”

“No, that wasn’t my doing. We tried working on it, but it’s something he can’t shake. Usually it’s ‘sir’, but sometimes he slips.”

“Mm.” Janus’s hand dropped from Ambrose’s cheek, and landed back on his side.

“He means a lot to you,” he guessed.

“Yes. Just… leave him be, okay? I don’t want him spooked. We’ve worked so hard.”

“I’ll keep my distance, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

Janus kissed him on the forehead, a familiar gesture that he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” said Janus. “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda @loserwithsyle

#again NOT CANON #(yet. maybe. idk.) #but still fun to imagine #some townspeople : he literally just slapped a god are we gonna talk about that?? #the other townspeople: sounds like gossip to me. absolutely not #i love how everyone both knows everyone's business and simultaneously refuses to get involved #Little Wood in a nutshell. No wonder Ambrose likes it there #Kings of minding their own business #my writing #ambrose and elliot #slavery whump #whump

[getcardedtarot]

July 2023 Monthly PAC

Welcome back lovelies! This time I've prepared a monthly PAC reading for July. Settle in, relax, and let your intuition guide you as you choose which message you need to hear for the month ahead.

For my monthly readings, I like to go more in depth. In addition to tarot cards, I also pull Lenormand and Oracle cards. The Oracle cards I'm using for this reading are Woodland Wardens, a beautifully cozy deck.

As a disclaimer, my readings are for entertainment only. Your choices are your own.

Pile 1: Tarot: 5 of Cups, 7 of Cups, 6 of Swords, The Magician, 8 of Pentacles, King of Pentacles. Oracle: Deer and Oak, Hawk and Thistle. Lenormand: Bouquet, Sun

I'm feeling a lot of grief and sorrow from you. You're feeling as if you have no options, or the options you do have are all bad. Fortunately I do have good news about July. You need to remember who you are and what you have at your disposal. You're a powerful manifester and the feelings you've been having are an illusion. Look up from your sorrow and see what's still around you. Pick yourself up and dust yourself off. This is a time to take stock of the good things in your life. Take a walk, get lost in nature.

I'm feeling also that you have some sort of craft. There's something you do that you've been working on or should be working on. This is the path to success for you this month. Work diligently at it, protect yourself but also have a keen eye for opportunities to use this gift. The life you desire is at your fingertips but you're letting yourself get caught up in your feelings. Remember who you are and what you're capable of.

As the month goes on you will make the journey through grief, and come out the other side. Take time to heal and nurture yourself. This will give you the energy and motivation you need to manifest the life you desire.

Pile 2: Tarot: The Hierophant, The World, Ace of Swords, The Fool, 7 of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune. Oracle: Opossum and Peony, Frog and Lotus. Lenormand: Heart and Birds

Wow! This is going to be a big month for you! Big things are happening. I'm seeing that you've been sort of laying low, keeping your head down. I'm also seeing that you have something up your sleeve. Some project you've been working on perhaps. I'm seeing that you're very inspired and ready to start with this project, to really get things moving in a big way. You're about to come out of your shell! I'm seeing you take a leap of faith. You're nervous and excited about what this will bring. But the world is at your feet and luck is with you. Your hard work is about to pay off!

You're about to transform into a higher version of yourself. It's time to move on this project you have. Shed the skin of your old self and embrace this change, it will be fruitful. Get yourself ready and take the leap of faith!

Pile 3: Tarot: 8 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, 6 of Cups, 4 of Pentacles, The Star. Oracle: Marten and Foxglove, Lizard and Pitcher Plant. Lenormand: Key and Snake.

You feel trapped in your past. You're keeping it so close even though it's keeping you stagnant and preventing you from moving on. You want so badly to be free, to move on, you just feel stuck and you're not sure how to get out. There is hope for you. Do something fun and maybe silly for yourself, don't worry about what anyone thinks about it. This should be something special for you. Something you enjoyed as a child maybe.

A new opportunity is going to present itself soon! A job or new financial venture, perhaps. Be spontaneous and go with it! This venture will be the key to beginning to move on.

#tarot #free tarot #tarot readings #free tarot readings #monthly tarot #tarot pick a card #pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading

[hiraya-rawr]

platonic intimacy — zhongli .

contains !! drabble, comfort figure zhongli, not proofread, gn reader, familial/platonic, intimacy, internal struggles, some asian stereotypes on love languages?

It's been a week since he last saw you, and more weeks since you last properly talked. It's worrying for Zhongli, knowing how emotionally and physically fragile humans can be.

Making his way to your home with a basket of groceries was an easy decision. Humans like food, and the food culture of Liyue is no different from a love language.

Your garden was in disarray. The plants slowly wilting. He enters your home with a spare key, one you gave him for emergencies after telling him how you don't have any relatives who live nearby to check up on you.

As a citizen of Liyue, a nation of filial piety, this meant you were very much on your own.

The inside of your house was different from the gardens— it wasn't messy, rather, everything felt untouched. Frozen in place and time, unused and stale.

He leaves his shoes by a rack. Not after noticing your own shoes strewn across the entrance. He places those back too.

None of the lights were lit, all the doors were closed. It was gloomy inside your home as he checks the livingroom and kitchen (leaving behind the groceries on the table).

Opening your bedroom door, Zhongli breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing your form in bed. Heavy blankets weighing on top of you, covering you all the way to the curve of your lips.

He walks closer, footsteps intentionally loud to alert you.

"Darling," He sits on the edge of your bed, hand reaching out to stroke your head, ". . . would you like something to eat?"

It takes a while for you to respond, but Zhongli is a god, and time is something he has too much of. You shake your head, a muffled no from the blankets that covered you.

He notices you didn't have any cups or pitchers of water in your room.

"How about something to drink?" He suggests. You pause, before slowly nodding your head.

"Alright, I'll prepare some tea. Would you like that?"

You nod.

"I'll be right back in a moment."

He pulls the covers over your form even more, patting it down before standing to leave. It doesn't take long before he's back, a warm hand rousing you (not that you were sleeping).

You turn under the blankets to stare at him. If he notices the exhaustion in your eyes, he doesn't point it out. He holds out a cup of tea, steam dances from the amber color.

"Can you sit up?" He asks but your body held you down like heavy weights. You aren't sure how to word it, it would sound too much like an excuse, so you stay silent.

He gives a small smile, almost sad-like as he places the tea on the table side.

"Here, I'll help you," A hand digs under the blanket, under your back, bringing you to sit up and lean towards his shoulder. It's easier this way, and you find him much warmer than the blankets that held you down.

He takes the tea and before he could raise it to your lips, your fingers circle around the cup to hold it yourself.

"I can drink. . . thank you," you mumble, sipping from the cup. He smiles, turning you to face him before planting his soft lips on your forehead.

His arms embrace you and you find yourself lulling to sleep in his hold. The teacup now empty, leaving a warmth in your stomach. You don't have to do anything as he hugs you, protective and relaxed.

"Would you like to eat now?" He asks, you ponder in thought.

"Maybe later. . ."

Satisfied by your answer, he cups the side of your head close to his chest. The other arm around your waist.

"Are you tired?"

". . . yes," You admit.

"Go and sleep, dearest. I'll be here when you wake."

With the promise of food and company, you feel yourself relaxing. Eyes fluttering close to the soft hum of his deep voice.

You rest for the first time in a long while.

masterlist 02

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat

#genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #zhongli drabble #genshin found family

[soraviie]

— type: Taehyung x gn! reader ━ navigation

— about: fluff, meet-cute; bring the cheese sort of beat

Nonchalant. Never before has a weight that heavy been assigned to a word so small. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes want to drag and curl around the stranger on your left, to drink him in like a wine mom would her favourite bottle but you don't. Staring is creepy. Staring was rude. Staring made you seem like you're a slobbering, flabbergasted individual of a sickened society. He just wants to browse through the records and be left alone. You all but cringe recalling how you felt when that fragile piece was interrupted. When someone thought a cheap pick up line or a prurient smile was worth breaking your attention, worth stealing your time.

No, you decide firmly albeit sadly because holy hell one does not run into the likes of him every day, I'll be good and leave him be.

And maybe the removed memory of a beautiful stranger stings a little bit because of all the "what if's" but by tomorrow's evening he's just a glimmer and the next day he's already gone.

Gone from your mind he may be but not gone from the weird amalgamation that is a coffee shop and a records store mashed together in one horribly eclectic establishment. In the middle of the next week he's browsing the same wall he had been before — bundle records — rifling cautiously if a bit disinterestedly through the piles. You give him wide berth at first but as the line drags on and you realise how much time you have to wait to get your coffee, the boredom takes over. You have to do something and in your own defence all of this is just a coincidence.

The same as before you decidedly don't look at him, not even so much as turn your head into his general presence. The only time you crane your neck was to gander at what smelt so deliciously finding the source in a small cup situated by a nearby. It's a hot chocolate on the name of Taehyung.

Taehyung, you echoe in your mind, nice name.

At first, everything is going just swimmingly. No one is breaching the social norms imposed; everyone is off to themselves only then you spot movement. The dark coat Taehyung's wearing is easy to make out in the otherwise grey environment. In a rush you flick your gaze to where he's at, slightly perplexed as to why he had just suddenly tossed himself from 1990's shelves to 80's but then you shrug, assuming, no, knowing it's none of your business. However, there's that movement again, shuffling cautiously albeit quickly to the side. You find Taehyung standing suddenly in the 70's, one foot firmly planted already into 60's. He pretends to not see you — his figure is fully engrossed into browsing but it seems almost too  inconspicuous. He's exactly as you were — looking while trying not to look. Still you turn back to the record of your choice, leaving him be because god damn you're a good person who does not go accosting beautiful, beautiful strangers but it's too late. Two more times and suddenly Taehyung bumps into you as though he hadn't seen you at all.

"I'm so sorry, I'm just so clumsy," he apologizes airily, brown eyes crinkling above the mask. Perhaps he was really socially conscientious. He seemed kind just not as clumsy as he claimed. "I didn't see you there."

"Really?" you counter, trying your damnedest not to smile. You don't know what it is about him but it was as though he was just oozing some form of childish, innocent glee that like a pitcher of cold water soothed a parched sensation of the lingering monotony. "Cause it appeared to me, mister, you were watching me."

He laughs behind the mask, one hand reaching up to rub his hair awkwardly.

"You caught me — I was. The name's Taehyung."

"I know," you reply, just before stammering ever so slightly. "I saw it on your cup."

That piques his interest and inclining his head to the side, he examines you so thoroughly that want to or not — you grow shy, a torrid heat capturing your face whole.

"You've been watching me as well," says he and the smile in his voice is so clear you can almost see it just behind the flimsy fabric.

Oh, to hell with being good.

"I have," you admit boldly, half taking by surprise even yourself. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, why don't you and I take a seat right there," he points at one of the more secluded spots in the entire store where the atmosphere falls more hushed and...intimate. "So we can stare at each other together?"

"Sure," you shrug, once again trying to put some sort of emphasis on nonchalant. You don't think it's working. "I'm ____________, by the way."

"Yes," Taehyung replies with something fond briefly passing his eyes. "I know."

send in a picture of the boys and I’ll write a scenario

#file/picture series/taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung drabble #taehyung scenarios #bts drabble #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n

[mychlapci]

i have not stopped thinking about pitcher plant pussy since you started posting about it and now my mind has combined it with that ask i sent a while back involving minibots being used as permanent spike sleeves

so uh, enjoy my deranged horny ramblings

i've been thinking so hard about a minibot whose owner is in a relationship with another bot, specifically another mech who is far bigger than their partner. which leads me to the image of the minibot still firmly stuck on their owner's spike being thrust into a hot wet valve, gasping as their frame is surrounded by tight calipers and trying desperately to keep their intake shut as lubricant and fluid coats them in all sides, their own valve clinging to their owner even as the extra lube begins to shift them off the spike they're surrounding

their armour begins to creak and shift as the valve surround them clenches down in overload and they get to deal with a mouthful of fluids and the overwhelming feeling of transfluid flooding their own valve as their owner begins to pull out. but the pulsing, clenching valve of their owner's partner is so tight that they get trapped inside it

and then, very faintly, still reeling from all the sensations of being fucked while being fucked into someone else

"you can just keep them as a gift, from me to you" and then there's the distinct sound of a panel sliding shut and the minibot realises with horror (and arousal) that they are now trapped inside someone's valve

they get nervous at first, pushing at clusters of internal nodes and quickly realising that it only makes the valve walls lubricate more and the hot wet environment gets even hotter and even wetter. they can feel the transfluid from their owner's overload trickle out of them slowly and they can only squirm and wriggle about even as their new owner goes about their day, completely helpless because of the now locked modesty panels keeping them firmly contained

an unknown amount of time passes and the minibot gets used to being trapped, they start to tug and press on specific nodes, relishing in the muffled moans and the feeling of calipers clamping down on top of them. normally they don't get to actually stimulate or play with their former owner's spike, forced to sit there and be quiet, so the minibot takes their own pleasure by fingering themselves, pushing old, half dried transfluid out of their valve and enjoying the feeling of hot sticky walls pulsing around them

maybe their owner comes back later, a pair of digits wrapping around their pedes and dragging them outward into the light. they're blinded at first, not used to the brightness of a normal room after being trapped in a place with only the dim glow of biolights to illuminate their surroundings. but they adjust and they get to see their owner's spike standing proud, dripping precum and they get tossed to the side as the sounds of rough and rigorous interfacing fills their audials

"did you enjoy the gift?" they hear faintly, still half dazed from the sudden influx of stimulation in their optics and audials

"a-aa-ah, y-yes, the p-lug worked quite nic-ah-ely, so wonderfully filling" and the minibot can only moan helplessly and finger themself vigorously at the way they're only treated like an object

and then when their owners are done interfacing, they're shoved right back up into the valve they were just pulled out of, and the click of a panel locking into place is the only warning they get before they're trapped once again

i just really like the idea of a bot helplessly squirming inside a valve, trapped by panels and forced to just sit there. maybe the minibot has to subsist off of lubricant (and potentially period energon depending on how long they get trapped in there) because their owners don't bother to refuel them while they're outside the valve. maybe their owners get another minibot for their spike since the old one is now being used as a plug, and occasionally the minibots get to frag each other while their owners are going at it

maybe their owners have a huge wardrobe of minibots that get switched out depending on the occasion, like one for formal events, another for more casual outings, another for work and the plug minibot and the others have a massive orgy while their owners are out

sorry for the long ask, but i cannot stop thinking about a minibot being trapped inside a valve

-burnt ice anon

this is… exceptional. sorry if I seem speechless, it’s because i am. I have no idea what to add. 

A minibot living inside someone’s valve is a crazy hot concept. A minibot living inside of someone’s valve and enjoying it is even hotter to me. Fingering themself constantly while pressing against the various clusters of nodes within their new owner’s valve, adding to the constant stream of valve juices that’s covering them. Their plating is always slick and warm, sometimes they still choke when their owner overloads and a wave of lubricants washes over them. The squirming stimulation would be so much more different than a plug, the new owner would probably overload a lot, letting the little minibot enjoy a steady diet of lubricants and transfluid <33

#you so insane for this (in a good way) #valveplug #dubcon #<- because of the Implicaitons

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

[NSFW AU] Forest god Shuichi, bounty hunter Kokichi

Bunny: i didn't think Too deeply on it but basically. roaming bounty hunter kokichi + monster shuuichi kokichi gets in over his head :)c probably vine tentacles involved, because i like those [a little bit later] forest cryptid shuuichi…mmm good stuff the people who hired kokichi to kill him are maybe Not Great they kept fucking with his home it's not his fault he had to dissolve them like a pitcher plant can i add seed ovi

Me: Yes Do it

Bunny: they think kokichi's dead bc he doesn't come out of the woods SNDKHBJJFG

Me: He lives there now Becomes a planter, the way he's full of seedlings

Bunny: he does leave sometimes to take care of business but mostly. happy vine time his feet rarely touch the ground anymore. shuuichi spoils him

Me: Oh? Carries him around or keeps him in bed?

Bunny: i think mostly literally holds him up in his vines shuuichi is the forest, to some extent …does he have a bed, actually?? MAYBE THAT'S WHY KOKICHI HAS TO LEAVE SNDBJFJG u get kidnapped by a hot cryptid and he doesn't even have a house smh

Me: Mossy nest

Bunny: mossy nest could also work!!! comfy little cave

Hina: Is Shuichi a plant?

Bunny: shuuichi is a cryptid/monster that's like. the avatar of a forest? its spirit, but also its guardian

Hina: So do plants grow in him?

Me: I think in this case the seeds have to go Become airborne as seeds do Find some soil to settle into

Bunny: also, airborne??? what do you mean by that bc i can not be seeing the same image you are

Me: I don't have access to translator now but I mean like When the stuff from trees just fly off and people have allergies to that

Bunny: okay yeah i did understand we were having different ideas of the size of these seeds i'm pretty sure

Me: I assumed that they're tiny and in a huge quantity Seeds just suggest that idea

Bunny: they do!! however i usually go for Very Large bc it's fun to me

Me: Like. I thought of tiny orchidea seeds, bc orchideas are cursed with those so I was made to read about that once See, that was fitting in the mer au, but if Shuichi IS the forest then it makes sense he'd have A Lot

Bunny: ooohh that's true but how would that Feel

Me: Grainy cum Not dry tho Just textured Like chia seeds in a drink But more density [everyone disliked that, idk why]

Beez: in my head shuichi just looks like millennial tree

Me: In my he has like a gown with moss covered vines and flowers holding it together Flowers in his hair too, maybe elfish ears, probably lil antlers

Apollo: Okay but if Shuichi is the forest, does he have eyes everywhere? Like he sees everyone coming to destroy his home/him then sees a cute hunter and goes You. You're gonna be mine now.

Bunny: yes, yes he does :) kokichi never stood a chance :) i can't believe this was started over me liking swordkichi a little Too much [design from the official anthology]

Apollo: Imagine just walking into the forest to get rid of a creature but the whole ass FOREST decides you're its pet/partner or whatever now

Bunny: he was gonna melt him into bone soup but he sensed a pure heart and pretty face ok

Apollo: No need to live pay check to pay check when the forest is constantly fucking and breeding you

Dra: Damn does he do that [melt someone] to anyone else when Kokichi can see

Bunny: not when he can see he's very big, he can take care of forest-killers and his favorite pet simultaneously

Me: Feeding his favorite human handpicked berries and honey

Apollo: He's made him a little flower crown that won't die and is making sure he only eats the best things possible

Me: Tries to feed him bugs too, to get him some protein, never again, lesson learned

Apollo: LOOK HE'S USED TO KILLING HUMANS NOT TAKING CARE OF THEM. THERE'S BOUND TO BE A LEARNING CURVE

Bunny: kokichi is half-awake and being lazily fucked so he only realizes when he feels a leg wiggle against his lips IF ONLY THERE WAS BOOKS ON HUMAN CARE he's Struggling i jusg think. kokichi being suspended above the forest floor, strange smooth vines stuffed in every hole large enough, dizzily wondering what theyre pumping into him he's having a very blissed out time kokichi accidentally cuts his hand after gripping onto shuuichi's antlers and shuuichi is HORRIFIED he's pretty sure kokichi is Actually Dying

Apollo: He's never seen blood and Kokichi is currently too blissed out to notice that he's bleeding

Bunny: IN HIS EXPERIENCE HUMANS ARE FUCKEASY TO KILL OK HE JUST DROPS THE GROUND OUT FROM UNDER EM A LITTLE AND THEY EXPLODE he should probably have a much more intimate knowledge of death than this being a forest god but. it's funny

Apollo: Okay but Kokichi accidentally gags when his mouth is being fucked and Shuichi freaks out at that because does that mean he did something bad???? Kokichi seemed to like it though??? He's hopeless at caring for his little human but he's trying his best

Bunny: im imagining their first meeting,, maybe shuuichi's forest is extremely sheltered and humans have only recently started trying to "develop" it.. kokichi shrieking and swinging his sword around while vines hoist him higher and higher they start stripping him and he thinks he's about to die but they just end up poking around curiously wherever they can reach, trying to figure him out

Apollo: Shuichi that's not how you properly get a boyfriend smh

Bunny: he doesn;t know that!! he IS the forest there's nothing for him outside of it

Apollo: Shuichi appears but is absolutely zero help because he also starts poking Kokichi in curiosity

Bunny: he thinks shuuichi is there to help but no, he just wanted to feel kokichi's interesting textures more clearly the human makes cute noises when he pokes him there :D

Beez: would that mean cutting it down hurts him. .. . .

Bunny: yes sometimes death is a natural part of the forest lifecycle but you can't cut him all the way down and expect him to live

Beez: yeah i imagined if it happened naturally he would be fine but if there was smth interfering he would Feel it

Apollo: Kokichi tries to kick him and Shu just pouts because he doesn't know how to respond. He's just interested in this cutie

Bunny: kokichi tries to bite him and gets a vine stuffed in his mouth

Me: This is where verbal communication ought to step in

Bunny: when does verbal communication ever work when kokichi's involved /j

Apollo: This isn't how Kokichi wanted to be seen in front of a hot forest spirit damn it. He couldn't even flirt before getting naked /j

Kai: Human try developing Shuichi's forest and Kokichi is just "AW HELL NAH THAT GUY FUCKED ME TOO GOOD FOR YOU TO UP AND KILL HIM!"

Apollo: "We hired you to kill that guy!" "HE GAVE ME THE BEST FUCKING NIGHT OF MY LIFE! HOW AM I MEANT TO KILL HIM AFTER THAT????"

Bunny: maybe the fantasy seeds he has kokichi incubate are replacements for the killed trees OOO

Dra: I'm sorry but my mind just went to that fucking bird (there is a type of tree that doesn't grow unless the bird eats the seeds first)

Me: Yeah, the forest grown since Kokichi came around

Me: I was thinking something a lil more lovey dovey when you said he stayes in the forest

Bunny: it's lovey-dovey once they get past the Poking phase. shuuichi is very curious and has literally no idea what boundaries are maybe kokichi offers him a deal,,,like 'u can keep touching me wherever as long as you promise to stop eating people'. he does not have his sword and has literally no way to enforce this and is also currently wiggling toward shuuichi's hand but it's fine he's a very serious business man shuuichi is very diligent about aftercare even though he has no idea what that is and tries to feed him a bug he goes "well some of the animals like this" and pulls kokichi into his lap to start petting him humans need protein he's pretty sure he's doing his best

Apollo: Throws touch starved Kokichi into this /j

Bunny: funny you say that :)c the implications of kokichi being a wandering bounty hunter are that he has nowhere to go Home to, yeah? would also explain why he stays in the forest,,,

Apollo: Kokichi really went from being alone and living paycheck to paycheck to being taken care of by the forest itself

Kai: "I got no home but the willow maid fucked me good and hard so i think i like it here"

Bunny: kokichi is like 'stop it i'm not a pet >:(' and shuuichi is like b̶̀̌ȗ̶̏t̷̅̈ ̷̏̚ḯ̷̋ ̵͒̀c̵̃an ̵̓̏s̵͐͠m̷̃͑e̷̎͝l̸̂͗l̸̀ that ̚i̸͗t mak̷̃̎e̶s you ̷̅̚h̵͑̒ä̸͠p̵̎̂p̴̢̆y̵?

Kai: does Kokichi ever repay ;) him

Bunny: yes frequently

Kai: can a forest get off?

Bunny: nnnnot…really? at least in my interpretation he enjoys seeing kokichi happy maybe he finally decides to manifest himself some genitals to see what all this fuss is about NSDJBHSHDGJ

Kai: does he at least smooch Shuichi?

Bunny: YES shuuichi tells him that he is not a baby bird and does not need to be fed. then he tells him to do it again because it felt nice

Apollo: I'm crying because imagine if he made his dick real big because he's not sure what a good size is meant to be

Bunny: kokichi is munching grapes and watching him like no…a little bigger…little smaller…move that a little bit to the left…

Kai: peppers his face in kisses and Shuichi has no clue what he's doing but makes the correct assumption that it's a human sign of affection sorta like wolf licks and accepts it

Bunny: he does it back very clumsily it's too hard and knocks kokichi over (shuuichi vc) ẁ̷͑h̶̎͑a̵͂́ṫ̸͘ ̷̟̈i̶͌͆s̷̉ th̆e̷̽̕ ̵̑̾p̵͑̏o̶͒̕ǐ̷͠nt of t̶͋̚h̸is? ̛i̴̛ have ̓̔ă̵͝l̴̈́̿ṙ̵̐e̸̚̚ạ̸̈dy reprodụ̸͛c̶̛̃ȅ̶̈́d̸̆̕ ̸͐throug̃͠h̸̖̏ ̴you,̿ i do n̸͝͝ò̶̓t̵̂̽ ̴̒��n̴͛̈́e̵͌͊e̴d mammalī̴͘a̴͂̀n̷̾̈́ ̶̔͘feature̷͘͠ṡ̷̆-̴͑

Apollo: Okay but how long would it take for Kokichi to be able to understand him or can he understand him off the bat?

Bunny: he can understand him, he just rarely speaks and his voice is unnerving and layered like all the trees are speaking at once :D and the trees are DOWN TO FUCK- im gonna say there's no elk in his forest. just so kokichi doesn't have to hear his partner make the elk honk

Kai: he's better at birdcalls anyways why can i see him taking Kokichi's clothes off when they meet cause he doesn't understand clothes and thinks the human just got caught in something weird what buisness does a forest spirit have wearing clothes anyways

Apollo: Kokichi trying to explain that he sorta needs clothes and Shuichi does that little head tilt that dogs do because he just doesn't understand

Bunny: i think part of the reason he keeps kokichi is because of how INTERESTING he is. he's making offended noises about shuuichi taking him out of his strange false-skin one second and the next he smells like pleasure because shuuichi touched his chest NOT THE HEAD TILT…. with those antlers bro'd probably knock something over

Apollo: Shu can use magic right? Can he make it that Kokichi is no longer human (at least fully) cause humans don't last forever you know?

Kai: connect him to the forest become one with the moss

Bunny: yes, but it takes kokichi several decades to realize time is Weird okay. he was too busy getting fucked all the time to realize he wasn't aging- he could've ASKED about the mysterious green goo shuuichi was pumping into him it's his own fault really now there's TWO scary forest spirits, good job morons

Kai: what made Kokichi finally realize?

Bunny: would be funny if some humans came through and he realized his clothes were WILDLY out of fashion now bc remember this all started from an outfit

Bunny: hey do you think shuuichi has to be taught what holes are okay like does he go ok mouth makes him happy. ass makes him happy. time to try the urethra- IT WAS AN APPROPRIATELY-SIZED VINE HE DOESN'T KNOW WHY KOKICHI IS SCREAMING!!!!!!

Beez: are u saying he tried to stick it in his ears or smth a NOOOOOO

Bunny: he tries this too but kokichi thinks he's being silly and laughs it off mistake

Kai: god help him

Bunny: god just tried to stick a vine in his dick

Kai: Shuichi finds out it doesn't feel good going in the dick, but the dick going into something sure does

Apollo: Does Shuichi switch between parts or does he just have both at the same time?

Bunny: shuuichi is smooth like a barbie doll

Kai: both is more badass he either has both or none, there is no inbetween

Bunny: he grows whatever kokichi is interested in that day, if they're having face-to-face sex actually both might add to the 'divine' feeling like. he Is life to some extent.. maybe shuuichi eventually lets some people move in,,, just be respectful to the earth and leave offerings of human food with neat textures on the shrine and you'll be alright he's grown strangely fond of humans lately! imagine that

Apollo: Everyone remembers the stories of the forest killing people but nope. Forest dude is calm as long as you're respectful and leave little snacks

Bunny: just…don't seek an audience with him. he'll probably grant you whatever you ask, but is it really worth him having a squirming man in his lap the whole time…?? shuuichi doesn't see the problem

Apollo: Does Kokichi still look 100% human or does he have more fae like features now? (I dunno how to explain it lmao)

Bunny: i think he slowly gains them over the years never as much as shuuichi. but enough to be a little unnerving,, he wanders the villages vaguely unnerving everyone around

Apollo: He would though. He just walks away and everyone rushes into their houses because that's the forest's like boyfriend? Husband? Queen? Theyr'e not sure but they know not to mess with him

Bunny: he brings back lost children

Apollo: He has enough common sense to put on at least a skirt when he leaves the house only Shu gets to see him 100% naked

Bunny: he's wearing the same fucking clothes from several hundred years ago they don't age either, don't question it

Apollo: That would sorta suit the forest spirit vibe though

Bunny: it really does! he's killing it by shoving the offerings into his mouth like a goblin though

Kai: dude dressed in ancient samuri clothes who's rumored to be the spouce of the foreset spirit walks into town-

Apollo: He brings his sword around as well despite not needing it. It's badass okay? It's just annoying trying to return these lost kids to their parents while they're trying to mess with the sword He's sorta missed human food okay

Bunny: they ask him to teach them

Beez: what if he gets a new sword that sorta wraps around his wrist n whenever he wants to bring it out it uncurls

Apollo: He saves the kid of like a rich family and finds a shiny new magic sword among the offerings He sends a bird with a thank you note to their house and the village realizes that they don't just have to offer food. Kokichi also likes shiny stuff People start to think Kokichi is like a crow so whenever he comes to the village, he's wearing new shiny stuff they left for him

Bunny: that cave is about to get So Crowded that's why he walks so weird…he's got bird feets….. definitely……..

Apollo: Kokichi plays along with it and Shu says fuck it and like magics some wings for him because he finds it cute that everyone is calling him a crow

Bunny: (chanting) wing sex, wing sex, wing sex-

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #oumasai #saiouma #kokichi oma #made by me #writing prompt #writing inspiration

[roosterbruiser]

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲) ✯ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A baseball game goes awry. Things are tender. ✯ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.7k ✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✯ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 #𝟏 ✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 #𝟏 ✯ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟖 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐓𝐗

“Alright, Filly,” Jake shouts, grinning at you. His vision is blurry, his chest is warm, his belly is full--but he’s still sober enough to gesture that he has his eyes on you. “You don’t even know what’s comin’, girl!”

You’re drunker than you care to admit. This is really the drunkest you’ve been since that first night Jake touched you, when he was still with Emmaline, when you were in your bedroom together and he was playing his invisible guitar. You haven't’ eaten much today, either--just a scoop of ice cream on shift and a handful of Jake’s Doritos--so your belly is sloshing with all the lukewarm Pabst you’ve drank.

But still you stand on home plate the dinky dirt field at McAnthem Park, squinting under the buzzing street lamp above you and adjusting your grip on the wooden baseball bat you’re holding. 

“You’ve got it, Filly! Don’t let him scare you, honey!” Hyde calls from third base, sending you a lopsided grin and a thumbs up. 

“Just remember--you only get three chances!” Ruth follows, standing in the outfield beside Jake. She’s swaying on her feet, your flask tucked into the waistband of her shorts. “Not to make you nervous or anythin’!”

Hyde’s scratchy little radio is playing Rocket Man by Elton John now.  

Jake is tossing the baseball up in the air jovially, grinning at you. You’re patting the bat on the dirt, trying to wipe that silly smile off your face and look more menacing. 

But you’re happy, too happy to stop smiling: you’re with your three best friends at McAnthem Park playing a low-stakes game of baseball under a wide-open night sky, drinking beers between innings and switching teams sporadically. It’s warm outside and the crickets are crooning and the owls are hooting. Moths are gathering above you on the streetlamp and lightning bugs are flitting across the field, landing on dewy blades of grass. 

“I’ve got nerves of steel,” you call, flexing your biceps as if to prove your statement. “You don’t scare me, Jake Seresin!” 

Jake bites his lip, shaking his head in amusement. You look like a goddamn newborn deer, wearing a tired tank top and too-big jean shorts, all limbs and curly hair. You’re swaying on your feet, just like Ruth, but you seem to have just the slightest bit more control of your body--enough that you hold the bat at ready, even if it’s wavering in your grip. 

“Hey, batter-batter! Hey, batter-batter! Swing!” Hyde croons, readying himself to sprint to homebase as soon as your bat connects with the ball. 

Ruth is eying Hyde--she’s already decided that she’s going for him instead of you. He’s been so cocky tonight, somehow getting all the way to third base while she was busy scrambling after the baseball in the outfield. She wants to take him down a notch. 

“Well, throw the Goddamn ball, mustang! I don’t got all night!” 

Jake nods, sucking in a breath. He’s good at this--he knows what he’s doing. He’s the best pitcher the Silver Bullets ever saw; he knows that and he knows that everyone knows that. He winds up, planting his feet in the dirt and filling his lungs. And then he lets go, the ball hurtling through the air.

It’s maybe when Jake feels most in his element--throwing a baseball. That or when he’s with you. 

It’s a low ball--which Jake rarely throws, but he is so very drunk--and you swing too early. You stumble at the perfect moment, just as the baseball sinks in the air. It collides with your bare knee with a thunderous clap, a shockwave of pain shooting across your body as you yelp and fall to a heap in the dirt. 

Jake, who started for you as soon as he realized that the ball was low, curses as his dirty tennis shoes squeak on the grass. Ruth hurries towards you, too, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide. Hyde, who was too busy making a plan of action to notice that you were hit, sprints to home plate and promptly begins to do a victory dance over your crumpled body below him. 

“Eat my dust, Ruth Gabriel!” He shouts, shuffling in the dirt.

Ruth, who has shifted her concern from you to Hyde, points an accusing finger at Hyde.

“Filly’s hurt!” She seethes. 

Hyde glances down at you as you gasp, the very breath knocked out of your lungs. 

“Well, how the Hell did that happen?” He asks. He plants his hands on his hips and then leans over, trying to catch your gaze. “You’re supposed to hit the ball, Filly. Not let the ball hit you!”

“Give me that fuckin’ bat,” Ruth growls, starting for Hyde and stepping over your form. “I’m gonna beat you dead, you idiot!” 

You’re biting your lip hard, hands over your knee. Fuck, it hurts--which scares you because you’re the kind of drunk that usually makes your senses dull. 

Jake immediately falls to his knees before you, body flushed with panic and a sheen of sweat on his tanned face. You’re looking up at him, eyes watery and slacked. Your lips are twisted and your face is pink. You’re in pain--he can see it clear as day. 

“Shit, you alright?” Jake asks. Red-hot guilt is already sitting heavily on his chest like something forged in fire, gathering all the saliva in his mouth under his tongue.

“Just peachy,” you grunt through grit teeth.

You’re rocking yourself, still gripping your knee. 

Hyde is sprinting away from Ruth now, his stringy hair blowing in the warm wind, as Ruth chases after him with the bat. 

“Alright, lemme see,” Jake insists, reaching for your leg. 

“No!” You hiss, pulling into yourself. “M’fine! Really!”

You’re perhaps a bit traumatized from the splinter surgery yesterday, your palms still sore and scabbed from the fish hook Jake was so uncareful with. You know that he knows what he’s doing--he’s basically been playing baseball since coming out of the womb--since there are very little parts of his body that haven’t been pelted with a ball.

Jake scoffs, swiftly grabbing your ankles and sliding you closer to him across the dirt. Again, he tries to reach for your wrists and you whine, shaking your head. 

“You really are such a baby, aren’t you?” He sighs, perching a brow at you. 

You stick your tongue out at him. 

“Fuck you,” you mutter. 

But then you’re blushing. Not too drunk to forget the past few weeks you’ve shared with Jake, apparently. 

“Where’s that spitfire?” Jake asks. He feels more sober now, the sound of the baseball ricocheting off your kneecap ringing in his ears. “Your daddy didn’t raise no baby, did he?” 

Without further ado, Jake holds onto your wrists and pries your hands away from your knee. You let him, thinking about your daddy telling you to buck up, buttercup. As if he didn’t pretend to have to take a phone call outside of the room when you got stitches in the third grade and cried the whole time.  

The wound is nasty. The ball hit you just right, the loose stitching slicing your already-welting skin. Blood drips down your knee, stains your hand. It’s starting to roll down your bony shin and into the dirt beneath you. 

Jake does his best to keep his face neutral, especially when you grimace at the blood. He doesn’t want your flip-flops to be stained with blood so he carefully holds your ankle, pulling your leg straight. 

Pain sits heavy in your chest. So much so that you hiss and bring your balled fists down on Jake’s shoulders a few times. 

“You son of a bitch!” You cry. 

He takes the hits, holding your calf in place. 

“Girl, I’m tryin’ to keep those damn flip-flops from gettin’ stained! You’re welcome!” 

Elbows against the dirt, you glance over and squint through the night around you. Ruth and Hyde are still going at it, always at each other’s throats. But Jake is right here, not even thinking about moving. 

“How am I bleedin’?” You ask. 

“Loose stitchin’ on the baseball,” he explains. 

“You cheap-ass,” you mutter. 

He smiles, rolling his eyes. He’s delicately wiping the dirt off your leg, trying to keep it from getting too close to the wound. If the cut on your leg was bigger, he would be rubbing dirt in it by now. But it’s not very sizable, just a little gash--but you’re a bleeder. 

“Ruth!” Jake hollers, not turning away from your wound. “Toss the flask!” 

Ruth, who’s out of breath, narrows her eyes at Hyde. 

“This ain’t over,” Ruth says to him. “I’m still gonna kill you. When you least expect it.”

“Lookin’ froward to it,” Hyde teases, grinning. 

Ruth begrudgingly hands the flask to Jake, tucking her hair behind her ears as she gazes down at you. You look like you’re in pain, biting your lip and watching every one of Jake’s movements. 

Jake quickly unscrews the cap of your ugly flask, motioning for you to open your mouth. You comply, tilting your head back. The Everclear burns your tongue and throat alike, lighting a fire all the way to your belly.

“Here,” Jake says. “Need somethin’ to bite down on?” 

“Hyde, this is your chance to help!” Ruth calls. “Quick, we need your dick!”

Hyde slings his arm over Ruth’s shoulders, much to her dismay, and pretends to start undoing his belt. 

“I always knew this is how I’d go,” he says wistfully, grinning as you glare at him. “With my dick in Filly’s mouth.” 

Blindly, Jake reaches out behind him and taps Hyde in the crotch, rolling his eyes when Hyde doubles over with a groan. Ruth is delighted by this, assisting Hyde in crumbling all the way to the ground with a swift push to the shoulder. 

“Bite down on this,” Jake insists, pressing his wallet into your mouth. It was his daddy’s, a tired old thing he left behind in one of the kitchen drawers. And between your lips, with your teeth sunk into it, Jake hasn’t ever been more fond of it. He pulls your leg over his lap and then nods at you. “Ready, girl?” 

He doesn’t wait for you to nod. He spills some of the Everclear out and onto your wound, holding your thigh against his so you don’t jerk away. You groan, biting down hard on the worn leather, digging your fingers into the dirt. 

The crimson blood becomes watery with the alcohol, dripping on the ground. Jake wipes the rest away with his hands, gentle not to press down too hard on your already-swelling skin. 

You spit the wallet out.

“Well, Goddamn!” You cry. “No need to be gentle!”

 Jake just sticks his palm before your mouth, biting a smile. 

“Spit,” he commands. You do without a moment of hesitation, the saliva warm and beer-flavored in his hand. “Good girl.” 

Something about hearing him say those words to you make your thighs ache, makes your throat quiver. You squirm, readjusting, and he pretends not to notice. 

“She gonna make it?” Hyde asks, still on the ground holding his crotch. His voice is strained with pain. 

“It was touch-and-go there for a while,” Jake says softly, smearing your saliva over the wound to staunch the bleeding. “But she’ll be fine.” 

“Will she ever play baseball again, doc?” Ruth asks, winking at you when you scowl up at her. 

Jake sits back on his haunches, rubbing your calm gently. 

“Not tonight, I fear,” he says, smiling softly at you. “We’ve gotta get the girl home.”

He takes his wallet back, brushes the dirt off it. There are teeth marks pressed into the leather now, distinctly you--a little gap between the front teeth. He lets his finger drift across the indents, which are still wet from your mouth. 

“Damn, Filly,” Hyde exclaims, pointing to the wallet. “Gotta get those teeth filed down or something!” 

“It’s alright,” Jake says, pushing the wallet into his pocket. That wallet, the one Wade left behind probably on accident and doesn’t even remember leaving, is suddenly more precious to him than ever before. “Can you walk?”

Hyde and Ruth walk ahead, collecting their flimsy backpacks full of empty beer cans and the remnants of your baseball game, towards Rusty sitting in the parking lot. 

You can’t walk--at least not without shockwaves of pain rolling up through your tense thigh and through your taut belly. You try to, though, until Jake has enough of seeing you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“C’mere,” he says, sighing. You try to keep walking, your shoulders squares, but then he swiftly hits the back of your knees so they buckle and scoops you up in his arms. “Hardass.”

You hold onto his shoulder, a hint of relief in your belly at not putting pressure on your knee.

“How the Hell am I gonna be a cowgirl in these conditions?” You mutter. 

Jake grins. Of course that’s what you’re worried about. He holds you close, pulling your bony shoulders against his chest and slowing his pace. He wants to hold you for as long as you’ll let him, which is oftentimes not very long at all. 

“With a trusty ranch-hand at your side,” Jake answers. He takes a moment to breathe you in, that lewd citrus sitting so heavily in your curls and over all your skin.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the crickets singing. Silverkeep is always quiet past ten o’clock, especially on Sunday nights when everyone’s getting ready for the work week. 

Tilting your head back, you look up at the vast sky above you. It’s beautiful tonight, not a cloud littering your view. All those bright stars twinkling overhead, that big old moon that you used to think followed you everywhere you went, all that endless black--it makes something settle in your chest. 

You and Jake were born under the same sky. Soon, you won’t be living under the same sky. Soon, he’ll be in Austin and you’ll be here. You will look up and see the same stars and he will see the same moon but you will be too far apart to ride your bikes to each other’s houses. 

Jake feels it when you pull into yourself, feels it when a shiver runs across your body. He looks at you, his feet practically dragging to prolong this walk, and sees that you’re gazing up at the sky. Your jaw is flexed and your lips are pursed and your eyes are wide. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Mmm,” you hum, sighing. “Thinkin’ about bein’ born under the same sky as you.”

He scoffs quietly. 

“Everyone’s born under the same sky,” he says. 

You tut, giving him a less-than-enthused look. 

“You know what I mean, smartass,” you whisper. “Don’t you feel lucky?”

“What do I have to feel lucky about?” Jake asks, wrinkling his nose. 

He’s wearing a shirt that’s older than the both of you combined--one his mama got at a garage sale a couple years ago. His shoes have holes in them. He has to get up before the sun rises and shovel horse shit. 

Jake isn’t looking at you now. He’s looking ahead, his hair flopping over his eyebrows and his mouth in a solid line. He’s thinking, you can tell. He gets pensive when he drinks sometimes. 

“To know each other,” you answer softly. 

That nearly stops him in his tracks. If he was less careful, he would’ve tumbled forwards and dropped you. But he would rather chew rocks than topple over with you in his arms. 

His heart is sitting low in his belly, pulsing. 

“Of course I feel lucky to know each other,” Jake says. “You’re drunker than a skunk if you’re admittin’ it, though.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not,” you insist. You are still pretty drunk, though. “Just feelin’ reflective.” 

“God, did you hit your head on the way down?” Jake teases. You scoff, shoving his shoulder. “I can’t say you’re beautiful but you can get all mushy on me?” 

“Oh, shut your trap,” you hiss.

Jake laughs, grinning at you. 

“Filly, I know I’m the luckiest guy in Silverkeep. I think everyone does.”

Pink paints your cheeks and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, tasting all the dirt that’s landed there during your game. You tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching his sweaty scalp softly, sighing. 

“I don’t think everyone does,” you whisper. “But I’m glad you know. Knew you were smart. Must’ve been all that studyin’ you did.” 

Rusty rumbles to life just ahead in the parking lot, Ruth already clamoring into the front seat. Ruthless Ruth isn’t going to let you sit in the cab, even injured. She hates sitting in the bed of the truck--which she calls the smoking section. 

“Not sure all the studyin’ matters, anyway,” Jake says quietly. “I’ll just pay all the nerds to do my homework for me.” 

“Spoken like a true athlete,” you laugh. 

He sets you down on the bed of the truck carefully, letting you squirm and scoot yourself until you’re resting against the cab. Then he climbs in beside you, closes the bed, and knocks on the cab window.

Hyde throws Rusty in reverse and then you’re all moseying away from McAnthem Park. 

There’s a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face, tracing every freckle on its way to your flexed throat. Jake’s watching it happen. If you were alone--thoroughly and completely alone--Jake would lean forward and let it fall onto his tongue. Not even in a sexual way--not entirely. Just to have a piece of you inside of his mouth, just to taste something that your body made. He thinks about it often: having pieces of you in his mouth, having pieces of you wrapped around him. It’s in his dreams sometimes: droplets of your sweat on the flat of his tongue, your thigh around his neck, those dirty nails tangled in his hair. 

You light up a cigarette, wrestling with the pockets of your jeans. Your knee is throbbing, but at least you’re sitting now. Jake is watching you as you bring the cigarette to your lips, looking out over the desolate town fading past you. 

“Can I come over tonight?” Jake asks. 

You take a long drag, eyebrows pulled together.

“Figured you’d wanna stay the night,” you tell him, smoke drifting from your parted lips and up to the night sky. “Figured we could…you know.” 

Jake’s thighs are tense just thinking about it. He’s anxious suddenly to get back to that little trailer of yours, to get you settled on the bed, to taste your mouth and kiss your breasts and feel your hand wrapped around his cock. 

“We could what?” Jake says. 

He’s teasing and you know it. 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the rapid pace of your heart.  

“Fool around,” you answer. 

Honestly, you’ve been thinking about it all night. Watching his Adam’s apple bob with every swallow of warm beer, watching his capable hands grip that baseball, watching his arms flex, watching his hair billow in the wind, watching his grin light up the field. Even watching him pour Everclear on your gash and spitting into his hands has a spot of arousal dotting your underwear now, has a tickle sitting in your belly. 

Jake throws his arm around you, pulling you against his chest. It’s a movement that you are both used to and it doesn’t feel different now that you’ve made him cum and he’s touched you the way he has. It still feels like it always has: safe, natural, warm, solid. 

“What’s sex like?” You ask after a moment. 

The Pabst is apparently sitting between your throat and mouth now. 

But Jake doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t chide or tease. He just swallows, inhaling your Marlboro and sighing gently. 

“S’different with everyone,” he answers. Then he reaches over and plucks the cigarette from your fingers, taking a long drag. He resists the urge to cough as the smoke coats his throat and lungs, his fingers drawing nervous shapes on your bare arm. “Like, it ain’t the same with Emmaline as it was with Grace Lynn or Christy.” 

You think about Jake’s cock, the thing you’ve held in your mouth, the thing you think is so pretty. And then you think about Emmaline’s pretty hands wrapped around it, her nails clean and trimmed and her palms soft. God, she’s such a priss that she probably wore gloves to touch Jake--the bitch. 

Something pulses across your chest, a little flash of white lightning. It hurts, makes your toes curl in your flimsy flip flops. It’s a worse pain than your throbbing knee.

“Okay,” you sigh, taking the cigarette back from him and bringing it back to your own lips. You’ve been wondering about this, like everyone does, since your very first encounter with Jake. You haven’t gotten anything even remotely close to the sex talk--you’re not sure where to begin. “So, what was it like the first time?” 

Jake breathes out, humming. 

It was bad the first time. He was nervous, she was nervous. He came very quickly. She didn’t cum at all. She cried. He didn’t even take his shirt off. 

“Not great,” he answers honestly. He knows you would call him out for lying if he dared. “Lots of people make real messes of it the first time. I definitely did.”

“Howso?” You ask. 

This time, you hold the cigarette to his lips and he takes another drag despite the ache in his chest. 

“Didn’t know what I was doin’, really. Didn’t use a condom, too, so I came, like, right away,” he laughs softly, shaking his head. You’re not laughing, though. The white hot pain is back. “And, you know, she just wasn’t someone that I wanted to have sex with again. We were just young and wanted it.” 

You think about it: are you just young and wanting it or is it something more than that? You glance up at Jake, who’s looking up at the night sky. And then the realization just dawns over you all over again, all doubt fading instantly: it’s something more than that. It is unequivocally something more than that.

You let your hand rest on his thigh as you press your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling all that sweat and beer on his skin. 

The night air is still warm and you know that Jake won’t confuse you for cold--but he still pulls you into him, letting his lips and nose rest in your curls. 

“And what about with other girls? Like Emma?” You ask softly. 

Jake’s palms are sweating. 

“It was fine,” he answers. He isn’t lying--it was fine. He likes having sex. He just didn’t like anything that came attached to it after: the mind-numbing pillow talk, the cuddling, the cooing. But maybe it’s because of who it was with--it’s a feeling that’s dawning on him as he holds you against him, totally content. “What do you, like, wanna know?” 

You shrug. 

Everything. You want to know everything. 

“What’d it feel like?” You ask. 

His chest rumbles as he hums. 

“Good,” he answers. “It’s like…a different kinda good. One that’s kinda overwhelmin’, you know?” 

“No,” you answer, stubbing your cigarette out and flicking out of the truck. “I don’t know.” 

He isn’t sure how to explain it, especially since he knows that it will feel different for you than it did for him. He thinks for a moment, chewing on his lip. 

“You know when you rub your eyes real good? And you feel like you can’t stop and you’re, like, seein’ stars?” He asks. You nod. “Like that, kinda. Overpowering.”

The thought excites you--sends a jolt straight to your clit. You press your thighs together, your lashes fluttering. 

 “And it…it felt like that with them? Emma and everyone else?” 

“Jesus,” Jake laughs softly, wrapping one of your curls around his finger. “You say everyone else like it’s the whole damn cheerleadin’ squad.” 

 “Well, isn’t it?” You ask. 

You’re only partly teasing. 

“No,” Jake answers. He grins. “Only half.”

You laugh--it feels like it’s the only sound in Silverkeep. 

Jake thinks about it again--your thighs pressed into his neck, your body writhing above him, his hands holding your hips. Just thinking about it is making all the blood in his body rush to his crotch, is making his chest tingle. 

“Let’s try somethin’ new tonight,” he suggests softly. “You’re gonna like it. Promise.”

You trust Jake more than anyone else in the world--so you nod, leaning into him, holding his thigh. 

In your bedroom, which is just as messy as it always is, there is no sound besides your measured panting. The radio is off, the window is closed, and blood is rushing through your ears. It’s almost entirely dark in here, all except for the moonlight streaming in through the parted curtains. 

It’s just enough light for you to make out the faintest curve of Jake’s features as he sits on his knees before your naked body, his palms resting on your thighs. He’s naked, too, and he feels like this is the hardest he’s ever been. He can see pieces of your body, too, like your pebbled nipples and the indent of your belly button.

You’ve been kissing since nearly the moment you climbed in through the window, discarding your clothing quickly and pressing your skin against Jake’s skin. You’re wet--but you have been wet since your discussion about sex in the back of the truck, just thinking about him pressing into you. 

“Spread your legs,” Jake whispers, thumbs pressing into your thighs. You do, very carefully, and without saying a word about it, Jake helps move your injured leg to the side. “Your knee okay?” He asks. 

You nod, a breath stifled in your throat. 

Wordlessly, he leans down and presses his mouth to your knee. The skin there is hot, swollen. He can taste the Everclear and the blood staining your flesh and he lets his mouth linger there. He’s tender with you--so tender that your chest grows tight, tight like you can’t breathe.

“All better?” Jake whispers, letting his hand rest on your belly. He can feel how tense you are, every muscle in your body tight.  

“Mm,” you mutter, laughing quietly and nervously. “This that new thing you wanted to try?” 

He chuckles, his breath warm against your wound. 

“No,” he whispers. “You’ll know. Trust me.”

Then he starts to kiss up your thighs, all that soft flesh making him feel a bit dizzy. You’re breathing rapidly already, your mind racing and your fingers fidgeting with the sheets. 

Jake lets his body rest against that stupid small bed of yours, his feet hanging off the bottom, as he hooks his arms around your thighs. He continues kissing your legs, glancing up at your silhouette in the dark, watching your chest rise and fall. 

You’re trying to keep yourself from moaning already. It feels so good--just this, even. Just the way his lips are tickling up your thighs and provoking gooseflesh, just the way his breaths are coming out hot and heavy on your skin. 

And when that breath fans over your core, a plume of pleasure wafting up your body and practically making your hair stand on end, your head snaps up to look at him. 

“It’s okay,” Jake soothes, squeezing the bend of your hips. “It’s gonna feel good, okay? I promise. And if you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

You nod rapidly, trying to calm that anxiety sitting so heavy on your hips. 

But then it dissipates entirely because Jake reaches up and takes your hand in his. He squeezes it, squeezes you, then carefully sets your hand in his hair. His velvet locks between your fingers ease all that fear in your bones, all that uncareful panic. 

 Jake is nearly vibrating with anticipation, pressing his erection into the sheets in a desperate attempt for friction. 

Then he buries himself against your core, lets his nose nudge your clit, lets his tongue dip inside of you. And then you are on a different realm, somewhere above this sky that you were born with Jake under, somewhere further away. It feels so good that it makes your chest raise off the bed, that it drains all the breath from your lungs. 

And Jake knows he’s doing something right when you pull his hair for the first time. 

“Oh,” you mutter, your voice pitched and weak. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Jake can’t believe he’s tasting you now--this honey pot that he’s always wanted on his tongue. You taste just like he always imagined: just you. Nothing frilly about it. You’re all real, entirely authentic. And you’re so wet already, just from him stripping you, just from him closing his fingers on your nipples. 

He laps at your cunt, pressing himself against you and holding you close as you writhe and tug at his hair. You’re biting your lip so hard that metal is starting to invade your mouth, eyes squeezed shut tight.

“Fuck,” you moan, voice low. “Oh, fuck. Jake, Jake.” 

Then he moans against you, his cock twitching.

You said his name--you said it with no prompting. And it sounded fucking delicious in that voice of yours, edged with pleasure and overwhelmed with adoration. 

He’s done this before, of course. Only a handful of times when Emmaline would let him. He likes doing it, especially when he can lay on his belly and rut himself against the mattress. But this is on another level--this is fucking intoxicating. He’s sucking your clit, pressing his chin against your entrance, moaning against you when you pull his hair. 

And you’re both drunk still, drunk enough that every single bit of pleasure feels heightened. You’re the kind of drunk that would make every false promise under the sun if it meant that you would feel like this forever. And he is the kind of drunk that would let him eat you out forever. 

“Fuckin’--Jesus, fuck,” you moan, rutting your hips against his. “Fuck, Jake. Fuck.”

He lets his hand slide down from its spot on your hip, carefully dragging it down between your legs until he’s nudging at your entrance. You let him in with little resistance, hugging him tight, coating his finger easily. You’re so warm, so tight--it makes his hips buckle. 

“Oh,” you mutter, hyperventilating almost. You swallow hard, letting the sensation of his finger pumping into you slowly and his mouth attached to your clit wash over you. It feels like something is building, something rapid and all-consuming. “Oh, Jake. Oh, Jake.”   

He curls his fingers and that sends your hips straight up into the air, away from his lips, away from the bed. You grip his hair so tightly that a few strands rip, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all. 

You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure, so caught up in the moment, so unbelievably turned on, that you sit up and grab onto his shoulders. He’s shocked for a moment, leaning up. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when you crash your lips against his, when you urge him to lay on top of you with a few careful tugs. 

He does lay on top of you, his body alight with excitement. He’s so hard that it’s almost making him lightheaded, especially when your tongue is in his mouth, especially when he knows that you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 

“Fuck me,” you whimper. You mean it for a moment--you want to have sex with him. And you want it right now. You want to be the girl that he fucks, even if he cums quick, even if you don’t cum. “Please.”

He’s so caught up that he obliges for a moment. He brackets himself on either side of your head, pressing down on your curls. And he nudges your legs further apart, kissing down your throat and your chest. 

Your mind is racing, pulsing. Your heart is thrumming. This is it. This is it. You won’t be a virgin when you wake up tomorrow. You’re going to have sex with Jake right now. 

“Filly,” Jake whimpers, eyes nearly misty. He’s been waiting for this moment his entire life, it feels like--he isn’t entirely sure he’s awake, honestly. He feels like he’s going to wake up any moment and haul his ass to the Carolina’s as the sun rises. “Oh, Filly.”

Yes, it’s your name he’s whispering. It’s you he’s on top of. He’s about to press his cock inside of you and feel all of you, feel you hold him tight. And it’s making him dizzy. 

“Fuck me,” you repeat, desperately digging your nails into his shoulders. “Please, please, please.” 

He lines himself up, presses his forehead against yours. Fuck, even just feeling your lip around the head of his cock, even just feeling the slick that has gathered there--he shudders. You’re panting and so is he, your lips hardly touching. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

You swallow thickly. Your mind is swimming. 

“Yeah,” you answer, nodding. 

He presses himself into you, just a tiny bit. But at the exact moment that he does, he accidentally lets his weight fall on your injured knee. And suddenly you’re hissing in pain and he’s jolting backwards, away from your heat, back onto his knees. 

“Fuck! Filly, are you okay?” He whispers harshly, scooting down the bed to hold your knee. 

You’re sitting up on your elbows now, tears dotting your eyes.

“Yeah, shit. Fuck, that hurt. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Jake insists. He presses his lips to your knee again, stroking your calf. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

 “It’s okay,” you insist, because it is. “It’s okay.” 

But now you both feel more sober than you did a moment ago. You’re both still heaving, reeling. You’re wet and he’s hard. You fall back into the pillows, blinking yourself back into reality. And Jake watches, still holding your leg. 

You almost lost your virginity a few seconds ago. Jesus Christ.

Jake almost took your virginity a few seconds ago. Fuck.  

“Maybe we should just…stop for now?” He asks, voice thin. 

You nod a few times, not trusting your voice. 

Then you scoot over, making room for him on the bed. He collapses beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder. And you two stare up at your ceiling, trying to regulate your breathing. 

“We should wait, I think,” Jake says after a few moments. 

You nod. 

“Alright,” you say. 

He glances at you. You’re just twiddling your thumbs and staring up at the ceiling. 

“Say what you’re thinkin’,” Jake insists. He tucks a few curls behind your ear fruitlessly and you nuzzle your cheek against his fingers.  

You hum. 

“We almost did it,” you say softly, biting your lip. 

He sighs, nodding. 

“Yeah, we did,” he says. He rakes his hand down his face, tries to calm the racing heart in his chest. “Jesus.”

“I liked it, you know,” you tell him. “Like, everythin’ you did before. Jesus Christ, mustang, where the fuck did that come from? I mean…Jesus.” 

Pride swells up in Jake and washes over his chest, submerging him. 

“Good,” he says, nodding. “Figured you would.” 

Neither of you speak for a moment. He pulls you against him, just like he did in the truck, except now you’re both naked. He can feel every single bit of you against every single bit of him. All that endless skin, all that wetness, all that hot blood. You rest your head on his chest and count the beats of his heart. 

“I think we should, like, make it special,” Jake says. 

He’s terrified that you’re going to shoot him down. He’s terrified that you’re going to laugh in his face. He’s terrified that he’s giving himself away, that you’re going to know how in love with you he is. 

But your heart is swelling now, your eyes wet. If you speak, your voice will be broken. So, you just nod against him, just hold him tight. 

“How do we do that?” You ask. You really don’t know--you’ve never done any of this. 

“Maybe find a time when your parents aren’t home,” Jake suggests. “And we should use condoms.” 

Jake is being coy. If he had it his way, he would rent a nice motel at the edge of town. He would shower the room with flower petals and bum some champagne. He would light tea lights and fuck you slow and sweet on the bed. It’s the most romantic scenario his juvenile brain can conjure right now--you, him, and a motel room. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “That sounds good.”

You’ve never put much thought into losing your virginity: who will be there, when it will be, where it will be. But knowing that it’s Jake makes something click into place, like there was a missing piece. Yes, of course it’s going to be Jake. How could it be anyone else? The stars are aligned. 

“I’m glad it’s gonna be you,” you whisper. 

Now he can’t speak. He can’t speak because he’s worried that he’ll say he loves you. 

So, he just kisses your forehead. He lets his lips linger there.

The next evening, just after sunset, you’re leaning against the glass-lidded freezer in Dairy ‘N’ Berries, just about to untie your stained apron when the bells above the door chime.

Sighing, you straighten your apron and turn so you’re lingering near the cash register. But you’re instantaneously relieved when you find that it’s not another ratty-haired brat waiting for another free sample before you--it’s Jake. He’s leaning over the counter, grinning at you, his eyes heavy but shining in the harsh fluorescents. 

“Well, howdy,” you greet with a huff, mirroring his position so your elbows are pressed together. “Thought you were gonna be another rugrat. And you brought Misty!” 

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. He has his guitar strapped on him, resting against his back. He settles it beside him carefully, grinning.

“Disappointed?” He asks. 

He’s trying to take you in without you growing uncomfortable--not that his gaze has ever made you uncomfortable. You’re wearing the ugliest hot-pink collared shirt with the Dairy ‘N’ Berries logo on the breast, a faded pair of blue jeans, and clunky tennis shoes that he thinks used to be white. Your hair is pulled back--as much as you can pull your hair back--and your face is free of any makeup. You’re tired, like you always are when you pull a double, but he sees the relief written all over your features in seeing him.

“Entirely,” you tease right back. You glance at the clock. Only another hour until close. You have time. “Pick your poison.”

Jake glances down at the buckets of ice cream, all six of them, and ignores the fat black fly buzzing around in the glass. Beggars can’t be choosers. He points to the strawberry and you nod at once, grabbing one of the shitty paper cups from beside the register and scooping the ice cream hastily. 

“How was work, honey?” Jake asks, taking the cup from you and leaning against the counter. You don’t hand him a spoon so he simply digs his two fingers in the cup and sucks the ice cream off them. “Make enough money to get us the Hell outta dodge?” 

You shake your head, frowning. You untie your apron again and hang it up on a crooked hook. 

“Someone tipped me in fuckin’ dryer lint today,” you say, pointing to the measly tip jar. “Honestly, maybe they thought that was our trash can. Can’t blame ‘em, I guess.” 

Jake is making a proper mess--like he always does. He’s scooping the pink ice cream out and sucking his fingers clean devilishly, making lewd noises when his tongue twirls around his fingernails. He has cream all around his mouth now, doing his damndest to finish the free cup of ice cream as you watch with an amused smile. 

“You poor thing,” Jake tuts, sticking out his lower lip. 

You nod, throwing your hands up. 

“I know. People should just throw their money at me,” you say. “Like a stripper.” 

“Would if I could,” Jake sighs, eyebrows raised. 

That makes you laugh. 

“Think I’m stripper material?” 

Jake snorts, his eyes falling to his fingers dipped in the quickly-melting ice cream. His cheeks are dusted pink, which is strange because you hardly ever see his cheeks get pink. Not unless he’s pissed off or very drunk. But this is a new blush, surely--one that has something to do with the thought of you taking all your clothes off and performing for Jake. 

This is your usual banter, something you’ve probably joked about before. But now there’s something sitting between you two, something that makes your thighs feel weak and your tongue dry. You almost had sex last night. He felt you grip the head of his cock, felt you take him inside for a few precious moments.  

“I think you can do anythin’ you set your mind to,” Jake decides on, winking. 

The two of you look at each other for a long moment, watching each other’s mouths. 

“Slap that on a poster,” you whisper finally, biting your lip. 

Jake looks at your face--how earnest and lovely it is, even in this dingy ice cream shop with the awful overhead lighting--and sighs softly. 

“How’s the knee?” He asks. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” you tell him, smiling. 

He frowns, finally plucking a spoon from behind the counter so he can shovel the ice cream into his mouth properly. 

“Poor Filly,” he pouts.

He wants to ask you if everything else is okay. If you woke up and regretted almost having sex with him as you laid on his naked chest. It isn’t that you gave any indication that you did--which you absolutely did not regret at all--it’s just that Jake has been fretting about it all day. Since he kissed your sleepy lips early this morning and left through your window, you’re all he’s been able to think about. 

“Stupid games win stupid prizes,” you mutter. “And yes, I am callin’ baseball stupid.”

“Watch your mouth,” he teases, pointing the pink plastic spoon at you. “You could be talkin’ to the next Babe Ruth.” 

“Didn’t know Babe Ruth threw low balls,” you say softly, furrowing your brows in faux-confusion.

Jake settles into a chair behind the counter, strumming Misty as you count the register. He’s tired, having been up since six in the morning, but he’s happy to be here.  

It’s only the two of you in the dinky place, the fluorescents flickering and buzzing above. It’s hot in here, hot enough that you have the drive-thru window cracked open to allow fresh air in. At the very least, it smells like ice cream in here, even though you’ve already put lids on all the gallons in the freezer. 

“Sounds pretty,” you mutter to Jake as you finger the crumbled dollar bills, not glancing up at him. “What is it?” 

“It’s Leonard Cohen,” Jake says. “Suzanne.” 

You hum, nodding. 

He’s good at playing the guitar--he’s been doing it since his mama scrounged and bought him Misty a little over a decade ago. Taught himself with sound, obsessively replaying songs and strumming until they sounded identical. 

Glancing at the clock again, a breath finally leaves your lungs. You set all the cash down, lock the front door, turn off the neon open sign in the window, and shut off the front lights. 

“Thank fuckin’ God,” you sigh, smiling at Jake when you return to your place at the register. “Today’s been so fuckin’ long.” 

All that’s kept you going today is thinking about last night. You have to keep reminding yourself that it was real, that it happened to you. You can still feel his tongue against your folds, his cock against your thigh, his hair between your fingers. It makes you shiver just to think about. 

“Miss me all day?” Jake grins, glancing at you through his lashes as he continues to strum leisurely. 

“Yes,” you answer honestly, glancing at him. “Kept thinkin’ about last night.” 

His fingers falter, Misty crooning notes randomly. His throat is tight as he lets his hands rest on his lap, arms resting on the guitar. 

“Me too,” Jake answers. “Are you okay? Like, with everythin’ that happened?” 

You don’t break your gaze from his as you nod. 

“More than,” you answer. “And, you know, I think you’re right. We should make it special.” 

His fingers are stiff now. 

“Yeah?” He asks. “Any ideas?” 

You shrug, pink coloring your throat. You stuff the money back into the register and close the drive-thru window, locking it. 

“You’re the experienced one here,” you tell him.

He watches you move about the shop, wiping things down and double-checking machines. And he can tell that you’re just busying yourself, avoiding his gaze. But then when you’re in range, when he can swing it, he rests his guitar beside him and pulls you towards him. He wraps his arms around your waist and opens his legs so you’re standing between them. 

You look down at him, heart in your throat, lip bitten. But relief courses through your veins to just be touching him. You want to sleep in the same bed as him every night this week, want to press your belly against his belly and feel his hunger. You want to sit inside his mouth and feel every word he utters. 

“I’ll make it special,” he promises. 

He reaches up, strokes your cheek. 

You’re both very tired. But you both know, in a big and scary way, that you’ll never be too tired to fall into each other’s arms. It nearly frightens you, the way your bones seem to turn to liquid as soon as you’re in his arms. You want to give it all way, want to give it all up, want to give in and just lay against Jake. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

And then you fall into his lap, your arms around his neck. You just breathe him in as he holds you tight. He smells like a barn--you love it. And you lace your fingers in his hair and nestle yourself against his face. 

“Sure you’re okay?” Jake asks. He’s only asking because of all this sudden affection, all this closeness. “Cause you can, like, talk to me. About anythin’.” 

You nod, sighing. 

“M’just tired. Wanna sit here with you.” 

His throat is warm. 

“Yeah, we can do that,” he says softly. “We can do that.”

✯ 𝐚/𝐧: yeefuckinghaw!! did I trick you with the almost-sex?

✯ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

✯ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

✯ 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✯ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬:

@violetta-ximena

@hazyretina

@illicithallways

@callsign-cacti

@chicomonks

@royalpurplehuskies

@widemiffyhappy

@djs8891

@shari_berri

@dempy

@ofxinnocence

@jmitxhieo

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@myfaveficrecs

@princess76179

@roosters-girl

@thedroneranger

@blahblechblah

@aemondssiut

@twsssmlmaa

@shawnsblue

@wolfiealina

@hangmanscoming

@whoeverineedtobe

@fragile-heartt

@averyhotchner

@jjlevin

@bradshawseresinbabe

@unhinged-btch

@bradshawbabe

@lt-spork

@maddievevo

@linkpk88

@eli2447

@cosmic-psychickitty

@shanimallina87

✯ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝/𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬, 𝐃𝐌 𝐦𝐞!

#hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman seresin #hangman angst #hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman au #hangman fluff #hangman series #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #top gun maverick hangman #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake x filly #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin angst #jake seresin series #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin smut #rumours universe

[astronomodome]

Alright I was asked to make a list of all the The Garages songs I associate with life series things so I have done that

A few notes:

Songs are in no particular order (mostly just sorted by album as I was going through listening to them all)

All song titles (in color) are links to the respective songs, so you can listen to them :3

These songs are all worth listening to but my absolute favorites are marked in orange

Let me know what you think! I’ve been waiting so long to talk extensively about this :)))))) <- going to explode

list is below the cut because this got loooong

Astro Astronomodome’s Garages Life Series Playlist:

Eyes in the Dark- *gestures vaguely* how am I gonna live with these eyes in the dark when they’re following me around and they’re following you around 👍 and there’s nowhere you can go that they’re not there 👍

Jaylen Hotdogfingers Settles The Score- limited life winner martyn in thy little wood I am so normal about you <- lie

Godspeed- TIES sending off Skizz… see you space cowboy

Curse of Crows- third life grian-core, you know, when he was green and couldn’t actually kill but he and scar were going around being vaguely threatening. You could maybe use the crows in this as a metaphor for red life scar. Also birds

Relief Pitcher (Leave It On The Field)- Extremely strong vibes but I’m not sure of what. Maybe last life martyn? In the final battle? Idk. Maybe every martyn. I ljke him. (anyway this song changed my brain chemistry permanently so it deserves a place in the list regardless)

rooting for you- I’m delusional, bdubs is a species of plant, and ethubs is wlw. what is a nature wives

we had a season- ok this is THE desert duo song. No song will ever end of double life we’ve-spent-so-much-time-dancing-around-each-other-and-now-we-have-nothing-left-but-each-other desert duo as hard as this song. I have a very detailed AMV in my head of this so you know I’m right. It’s even a duet… ‘we had a season, we had a year/between when I died and when I reappeared’ (there’s almost exactly a year between grian’s last third life episode and scar’s first double life episode. I checked for this reason specifically and it killed me instantly) PLEASE just listen to this one ‘I had my reasons, I had my fears/I had my pride (I still had tears in my eyes as I died)’

dead ringer- just as the previous song is The desert duo song, this is The red king ren song. It slaps and the vibes are perfect. ‘my skin is made of energy, my blood is made of fire/I am what will happen when your best-made plans backfire’

hexed- very much post-3rd life watcher grian. pretty self-explanatory

The Alternate- ‘I’m new but I’ve seen so much/I’m old but I was not there’ do I even need to say it. Gem-as-Cleo and Lizzie-as-Pearl (‘I’ve done this once before’)

gamer grindset- yeah this is The Life Series Joel Song. you can fight me on this but you don’t have to because I know I’m right

a leap of faith- reminds me of scar. nothing in particular it just has similar vibes

haunted- ok now this is a Real watcher grian kind of song. ‘my body is a temple/for the gods of other men/wielded as a weapon by foes I swore I’d never be again’ ok. edgy bird moment

she’s dead and i’m someone else- this one requires some interpretation but I’ve always seen it was team BEST mourning the loss of bdubs. However it could also be applied to almost every ten in the life series that lost a member early lol

Mike Townsend (feels the shadows call)- specifically last life shadow alliance martyn but any martyn in general fits. he’s having a bad time

INCINERATE- just like. Being on your red life in general and the bloodlust and manic energy that brings. 😛 (edit after the finale: OKAY I KNOW THERES SO MANY LIMITED LIFE MARTYN SONGS BUT THIS IS ALSO ONE OF THEM ‘I know how to win this/I don’t need to play your games/I’m just gonna dance now/I’ll show you how to deal with pain’ ‘every day’s getting worse and we’re starting to choke/‘cause the water in the air is getting stuck in our throats’ LIKE COME ON MAN)

Sidelined- limited life skizz you will always be famous ‘am I just another wash-out/am I damned to go out swinging/I can’t hear you from the dugout/is there anyone else singing for me’ I am singing! I am singing for you skizzleman!!!!!!!!!

Firewalker With Me- the song. The myth. The legend. It’s just such a great song and it’s about life series grian’s curse of killing the people he cares most about. Grian is a parker if you think about it <- mentally ill (special note- ‘nobody deserves to be called a curse/but if you’re gonna resist I’m happy to make things worse’ is grian accidentally getting jimmy final-killed first in limited life btw)

We’ve Got History- not to be that guy but desert duo. Ok

New Year, Same Me- martyn.

The Return- the start of a new life series! Seeing old friends again! Missing friends who couldn’t make it (cough cough martyn missing ren in limited life cough cough)! Playing the game! Living and loving despite the horrors!

A Horrible Mistake We Will Make Again And Again- grian grian grian. Grain. The bird boy. Also easily one of my favorite Garages song titles. ‘If I don’t know the limits, how am I gonna break them?/If you think that we’re kidding well then you’re sorely mistaken’

The First Ain’t The Last- canary curse activated! Honestly the entirety of this album is just the average life series lmao ‘and one day you’ll wake up/and from the ashes a phoenix will rise/and she’ll hit like a champ/and burn out bright before your eyes’

The Ballad of Unremarkable Derrick Krueger- another one that definitely has life series vibes (and is just a really good song) but that I just can’t place. I want to say Tango honestly because he always has been somewhat painfully mediocre and has famously always final-deathed in underwhelming and meaningless ways

Rise- this is the Cleo song. Epic. Thank you Cleo :) Joe can be the monitor in this scenario I think he’d be good at it

RIV- does anyone still remember that part of martyn’s last life lore where the mysterious voice was promising that he would get to see jimmy mumbo and impulse again if he followed its instructions? Well……

Hell’s Game- Blaseball is a death game and this song leans into that so naturally it fits pretty well with the life series as a whole. Would make a great AMV

5am Shift- Ok bear with me here. This doesn’t really fit Pearl other than the song title (lol) and maybe you can make some parallels to cleaning lady Pearl but it gives me her vibes. Plus it’s just a whole jazzy banger and one of my favorite songs so it’s going here anyway :)

Nullified- for the end of limited life. pretty self-explanatory ‘wasted all my minutes/trying to stay alive/and look where it got me/I’m just the last one nullified’ honestly worked better before the actual finale because martyn was more manic about it than this song would imply

STRIKEOUT!- life series mumbo my horrible wet cat. this song is a little weird but it suits him I think

The Tug- they never left the desert.

SUN 2- obligatory flower husbands song for all the flower husbands enjoyers out there. Time to go cry I guess

flooding/drowning- big impdubs moment. Or honestly just any of bdubs’s life series exes reminiscing… ‘and you’re angry when the energy rises to meet you/like the life rafts are disrespectful to the sea’ is the most life series bdubs thing I’ve ever heard

REMEMBERTHEM- very good and classic anti-watcher song. If c!martyn was just a little more aware of his situation I think this would fit better (honestly a lot of good garages songs just don’t fit very well because we haven’t quite reached the ‘let’s kill the watchers’ stage of the lore yet lmaooo)

Nothing Happens Every Day- tfw when no life series 🥺 could also be martyn because he loves to kill <3

historic season nine party time speedrun and associated records- mean gills vibes. a nice quiet evening in the coral isles, reminiscing

Mike Townsend Is A Disappointment- I’m so sorry Jimmy but it fits too well

Bonus! Hermitcraft-adjacent songs:

Storm’s Raging- moon big. the long, slow, inevitable end of the world. Bdubs looking up at the sky as it falls on him. the lyrics kick ass as well: ‘there were days when it all seemed never ending/when all you could hear was the forecasts, the fear/and the sound of the cloudline bending’ (and the way it speeds up at the end……. omg)

howling at twin moons- s8 scar. I will not elaborate

alaynabella hollywood- ariana griande <- wait who said that

golden- rentheking arc I love you :3 viva la revolution

Sincerely, The Collateral- hermitcitizen song tbh

Beep or Bleat- despite the EXTREMELY zedaph-coded song title this is actually end-of-season 8 tango moon landing-core. ‘do we possess a soul/does it exceed the speed of light/can it escape black holes/do we still have a chance to fight’

Nut Economy- another rentheking arc song. You can tell when I started watching HC from this can’t you. Well. Royal emeralds I miss you :(

Morning is Coming- HONESTLY if I had the ability to make AMVs this would be top of my list. It’s just so… so much. Escaping moon big at the end of season 8… I know it’s overdone at this point but it’s rotating around in my head all the time. What does it say about me that there are two moon big songs here and they’re both my favorites…

fourteen days is not enough for my screams to reach your ears- another tango lost in space at the end of season 8 song. it messed me up ok

psychoacoustics- I love convex* *DISCLAIMER: 99% of the convex knowledge I have comes from fan interpretation alone. Alternatively I could just be really trying to manifest a zedaph villain arc

oliver mueller (is a hero)- docm77 for several reasons which will become apparent almost immediately

hello world- grumbot I love you :] (putting in a different version so you can tell what the lyrics are without subtitles and I’m sorry because this version of the song is somewhat worse. they just start singing godspeed in the middle of it for some reason and like I’m not complaining I love that song but also why) (here’s the original version)

the entire kansas city breath mints team failed the bar exam- hermitcraft. no elaboration is necessary

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