#Fern but not like the plant a character

[maolong]

After a short discussion on Rusted Moss I had the deep desire to make this meme

[squuote]

@shinakazami1 you asked me to draw rain before and I still hadn’t yet so I fixed that but also drew all ur guys in the process too sorry

[fiberglassandflowers]

im still conflicted about my placements for the little shop of horrors at the moment

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 2]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

With an iced tea in hand, you unlocked the glass doors of your shop and entered. You turned on the lights, placing your tea on the counter and your bag in your locker. Since you were the only worker here, there was no one else to use the lockers but you.

"Roses, tulips, carnations..." You grabbed your notepad to check the incoming deliveries today. The first thing you did was check on your plants and water them.

"You're growing well." You smiled softly, seeing the plant that you sprout, moving the pot away from the direct sunlight.

"(y/n)?" You heard the familiar voice of your supplier at the back door and went over.

"Good morning, Mr Lee. Do you have any surprises for me?" You giggled. You had a good relationship with all your suppliers, they always helped you bring in quality products.

"Well, besides your usual orders, I have some hydrangeas if you would like." He climbed into his truck.

"Here." He pushed the bucket to show you.

"Oh, they're absolutely beautiful. I'll take them." You smiled. He nodded and helped you bring everything in, he usually knew where everything went.

"Sunflowers aren't selling too well." You shook your head in disappointment, seeing your sunflowers there.

"Sunflowers aren't trendy anymore. Have you seen what's on the internet? My daughter told me that girls are content with just bouquets of baby's breaths now. How times have truly changed, right?" He chuckled with a click of his tongue. You nodded and moved the roses into the refrigerated area.

"It's a minimalist thing, no? Bigger isn't better anymore. No one comes in for traditional bouquets anymore." You sighed, going to the cash register to get the money.

"Tell me about it... And this should be everything." Mr Lee said, glancing over the flowers that he brought in.

"Thank you, this is the payment." You handed the money to him. He nodded and placed it in his pouch.

"Also, Mr Lee. I remember you mentioning that Mrs Lee keep getting her hands burnt when she's working at her restaurant. I made her an aloe balm. This should help soothe the burns." You held the tin out.

"Oh, you're too kind, (y/n). Thank you so much for making this." He patted your shoulder.

"Have a nice day. See you next week." You walked him out.

"See you." The both of you bowed to each other and he jumped into his van before driving off. You returned to your counter and began your work for the day.

"Let's see..." You checked the online orders that you had and printed it out for reference.

Moving to your work bench, you began to prepare the flower preparations for each other. You trimmed the stems, removed the excess leaves and cut thorns away before wrapping them up with either cellophane or tissue paper.

"Hello? Are you open?" The bell above the door jingled. A girl walked into store, carrying a pot with her. You cleaned your hands and walked out to the front.

"Yes, we're open. How can I help you?" You smiled.

"My fern seems to be wilting and I can't seem to revive it. Can you help?" She asked.

"Let's see what's the issue." You escorted in. She placed the pot on your work table and you inspected it. The girl patiently waited, watching you as you checked it.

"From what I see, the soil isn't draining water properly. It's retaining too much water and suffocating the roots of the plant." You said.

"What? Can that happen?" She blinked.

"Yes, so that suffocation prevents the roots from absorbing the vitamins and minerals. You should mix a well drainage soil of this ratio and move your fern in." You wrote the ingredients down.

"And I can find this at the plant store?" She asked, reading through what you wrote down.

"You should be able to find the components. But if you don't mind waiting, I can mix some for you to take home." You offered. Hearing that, she let out a sigh of relief and nodded her head excitedly. You went to your storage area to grab the different soil components that you need.

"Peat moss, sand and potting soil." You mixed the components into a bag, adding some fertiliser as well since the fern currently lacked essential nutrients.

"For two weeks, put two drops of this plant reviver into the soil even if you are not watering it." You handed her a small vial.

"Thank you. Actually, do you mind repotting it into the new soil for me? I'll pay you." She requested.

"Alright." You took the fern out and got rid of the old soil. You poured the new soil in, creating a well to put the fern in. After that, you loosely covered the roots with the soil.

"Done." You smiled, removing your gloves.

"Thank you. This is actually my mum's plant and I'm helping her take care of it. I know nothing about plants." She said in embarrassment.

"No worries, the plant should be fine from here. If there are anymore issues, you can come back." You chuckled and rang up her bill. She nodded and paid.

"Thanks again." She bowed and walked out of the shop. After that, you went back to preparing your orders. There were some pick ups today so you wanted to make sure that everything was in order for a smoother pick up.

"Hi, I'm here for a pick up?" A guy walked into the store.

"Sure, can I see your order number?" You asked. He showed you the confirmation email and went to retrieve his order. It was a flower box instead of a bouquet.

"Just make sure everything is okay for you before paying." You said, rounding the counter to the cashier.

"Do you mind changing the ribbons to pink too? She really likes pink." He requested.

"Of course." You grabbed the ribbon. With pink flowers, you wanted to add contrast with a different coloured bow but since he wants it to be pink, there was no issue with changing it.

"That's better. Thanks." He handed you his card.

"I wrote the congratulatory message as you stated in request email but if you'd like to write your own message. This is a spare card, on the house." You handed him the blank card.

"Thank you, I don't know what else to write but if I come up with something I'll add it." He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. You hummed and rang up his bill, writing the invoice and handing him a copy, along with his credit card. With a grateful bow of his head, he left the shop.

Before you knew it, the clock hit 1pm, with customers coming in to buy, place advance orders or collect orders they've placed.

'Closed for lunch.'

You sat behind the counter with a tired sigh, taking out your lunch box. Your meals usually consisted of sandwiches or leftovers from dinner the night before.

Which was why Mrs Kim would usually come with food for you, always disapproving of how your eating habits.

RING!

"Sorry, we're closed at the moment." You said from behind the counter, not looking at the door. But you didn't hear the second ring of the door opening again so you stood up.

"Oh!" Your eyes widened in surprised as Hongjoong stood there, looking around the shop.

"Hongjoong sshi..." You blinked, maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your guilt was too much that the male was appearing in your dreams.

"Good afternoon, (y/n) sshi. Is this a bad time? Should I come back at another time?" He asked with a slight tilt of his head, fingers resting on the buttons of his blazer. You shook your head, reaching to get a tissue to wipe your mouth.

"It's fine. What can I help you with?" You came out from behind the counter to properly greet him. He patiently waited as you pulled a chair for him to sit.

"Please, would you like something to drink?" You offered.

"No, I'm fine. Actually, (y/n) sshi, I came to apologise for my reaction during my mother's funeral." He stood back up.

"What? There's nothing for you to apologise for, Hongjoong sshi. I should be the one apologising, I overstepped and said too much. It wasn't appropriate of me." You bowed deeply.

"You didn't overstep at all. Your intentions were good, I reacted poorly." He bowed back.

"No, you're grieving, it's normal." You smiled softly.

"Thank you for understanding." Hongjoong held his hand out but remembered that it was bandaged and cursed under his breath, hiding it and putting his other hand out for you to shake. If you were phased by his injury, you didn't show it. You smiled and slipped your hand into his to shake.

"I should go and let you carry on with your meal." He said once you both let go.

"No, it's fine. You can stay if you'd like." You smiled softly. He let out a small hum and continued to look around your shop, observing all the plants around.

"So, this is where my mother hung out?" He asked, picking up a stalk of rose from your work bench and twirling it.

"Sometimes... She would come for lunch or tea. We would just chat over food." You replied awkwardly.

How much were you supposed to say about Mrs Kim to her own son? You didn't want to sound like you were boasting about your time with her either, that wouldn't do any good.

"I see." He said, placing the flower back down.

"Hongjoong sshi..." You rubbed your arm, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

"Sorry for making you uncomfortable. Just... The truth is, you know a lot about my mother that I don't. You've spent time with her while I didn't so I can't help but feel curious. My relationship with her wasn't as good as she made it out of be." He informed.

"Oh. Hongjoong sshi, it's not my place to judge you or your relationship with Mrs Kim. Whatever relationship I had with her is vastly different from your own." You said.

"You're very kind, (y/n) sshi." He complimented. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

"I should go." He stood up.

"Wait before you go. Your bandage, do you want me to help you replace it?" You pointed. Hongjoong looked down and saw the blood beginning to seep through.

"It's fine, I shouldn't take up more of your time." He shook his head.

"Not at all. I can help if you'd like." You offered. With a soft sigh, Hongjoong sat back down.

"I'll go get my medical kit. Be right back." You told him and went to the back room to get what you needed. You also took a salve that you usually used for wound care.

"I'm not a doctor but I am first aid certified and I study medical plants in botany so you don't have to worry." You smiled and took a pair of cutters to cut away the bandages that Yeosang had wrapped around Hongjoong's hand. Hongjoong quietly observed you, not saying anything else while you focussed.

"I made this salve for wounds. It should help with soothing the wounds and healing." You explained, cleaning the blood.

"Do you always make your own medicine?" He asked.

"No, I just make simple stuff. I'm still learning." You giggled, tucking your hair behind your ear before applying a thin layer of the salve over the cuts and wounds.

"Does it hurt?" You looked up at him. He shook his head and you sighed in relief.

"You can bring that home with you to apply when you change bandages. I have some more." You explained.

"You do a better job than my brother." Hongjoong said after observing how you properly wrapped a new bandage around his hand and secured it in place.

"You should remove the bandage after 3 days to let the wounds breathe and dry." You said.

The entire time, you never once asked Hongjoong about how he got injured or acted differently. You treated it like any other scrapped knee and healed him. Usually, people would be scared or ask him how he got injured like that.

"Thanks." He looked at his newly bandaged hand.

"You're very welcome. If you see signs of infection or get a fever, go to a doctor." You advised. He nodded and took the small pot of salve, putting it into his pocket.

Will he use it? Probably not. But he saw how dedicated you were and for some reason, didn't want to disappoint you by not taking it.

"Bye, Hongjoong sshi. I'll see you around?" You blinked at your own words, uncertainty in your voice.

"Have a nice day, (y/n) sshi." He didn't address it, merely bowing his head and leaving your shop. You let out a long exhale, feeling like you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Ah!" You suddenly remembered the silk handkerchief that you had washed and in your bag.

"Too distracted." You scratched your head and went to the counter to eat a few more bites of your lunch before you had to reopen.

You were not too bothered that you hadn't returned the handkerchief to Hongjoong. Even if you did feel guilty, you had an inkling that you would be seeing Hongjoong again soon. What ate at you more was how foreign Hongjoong spoke about his mother, like she was a stranger that he didn't know.

"Hongjoong, where are you?"

"I went out to run an errand, Seonghwa. Don't worry, I didn't drive. I got the driver." Hongjoong sighed, sinking into the backseat of the Rolls Royce he was in.

"I'm not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure you didn't do something dumb like blow up a building."

"Geez that happened ONCE, let it go... And I'm going to work, I have to go to my club." Hongjoong said, looking at his bandaged hand.

"You don't have to go back to work right away, Hongjoong. The boys and I can take over while you take a few days. You've needed to take a break for a while."

"I'm the leader of Ateez, Seonghwa. I don't need all of you to take over my work." Hongjoong replied.

"But..."

"Yes, my mother died. But sitting around isn't going to bring her back to life. I still have roles to fulfill, I'm not going to let anyone strike us just because I'm down. There are people counting on us, relying on us." He continued.

"Alright. Stay safe then, Hongjoong. I'll see you at the docks meeting at 5pm?"

"Yeah, thanks Seonghwa. I'll see you later." Hongjoong hummed and hung up. The car stopped before Hongjoong's club and the manager came out, opening the door for him.

"Good afternoon, Mr Kim." The manager bowed. The club wasn't open yet so Hongjoong could get some administrative work done.

"Get me a drink and come up to the office." Hongjoong said, walking into the club.

"Yes, sir." He bowed. Upon his entrance, all the workers stopped and bowed down to greet their boss This was the main club Hongjoong worked out of so they were used to seeing him around.

"Give me 10 minutes. No one is to enter." Hongjoong told the guard who stood by his office door.

"Yes, sir." The guard bowed.

Hongjoong entered his office and sat down in his chair. There were some things he needed to do and catch up on privately, without any interruptions. As the leader of Ateez, he had to keep track of the other Ateez members and their work, on top of his own. But the boys always did their work so it wasn't hard on him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"S-Sir?" Hongjoong heard the timid voice of the club manager outside his door, making him look up from his phone where he was sending messages to Yunho.

"Has it been 10 minutes?" Hongjoong asked back, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket.

"Yes, sir." The male on the other side replied.

"Come in." Hongjoong said. The door opened and the male came in with his iPad and Hongjoong's whiskey in hand. Hongjoong nodded over to the chair and the manager bowed, taking a seat opposite him.

"Update me." Hongjoong took a sip of his drink. The manager began to update Hongjoong on the business.

"We have been thinking of letting our bartending apprentice go. He had been drinking on the job and getting drunk." He informed.

"Who?" Hongjoong leaned forward.

"This is his profile. The next page has some employee complaints and customer complaints that were logged." The manager informed, pulling up the ex employee's profile and handing it over to Hongjoong to look it over.

"I won't read this, let him go. I won't let anyone be caught lacking in my business. One complaint is as good as ten. Make him compensate for what alcohol he took." Hongjoong instructed.

"Of course, sir." The manager nodded, taking back the iPad and going through the other updates.

"Continue to manage necessary manpower and suppliers to the club. Revenue is still good." Hongjoong told him.

"I will. Thank you for giving me this responsibility, sir." The manager bowed from his seat.

"This is the list of VIPs coming. As usual, make sure they are well taken care of." Hongjoong slid over the list of VIP names and the dates that they would be coming.

"Of course." The manager folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

"You can go." With that, Hongjoong waved him off and he left. Hongjoong may seem cold and merciless but he treats his employees right, at least those that do their job well. He is a perfectionist and always wants the best, there shouldn't be anything that's lacking when it came to his business.

"Send Wooyoung and San for that private poker game. That's wheret they'll meet our informant." Hongjoong said to those that were in the group call.

"Oooh, I can get a new suit done." Wooyoung's focus and excitement was obviously on other things.

"What about the governor meeting that's coming up, hyung? Are you going with Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Seonghwa should go with Yunho. They know how to work the charm. Plus the governor's wife seems to favour Yunho." Hongjoong thought out loud, making the other laugh.

"No one can resist that face." Seonghwa chuckled.

"Yunho's ears just turned bright red." Yeosang informed and the others could hear Yunho's yell of protest in the background.

"Wait, what time is Seonghwa hyung and Hongjoong hyung settling the issue at the docks? I want to tag along, I could use some action. It'll be fun." Mingi asked.

"Oh! Me too! If Mingi's going, I want to go!" San agreed. Hongjoong could hear Seonghwa wanting to interject but it was ignored. Hongjoong and Seonghwa could never fight the younger ones, they were simply outnumbered.

"You guys always make a mess when you get involved... This time, call your own clean up crew." Seonghwa hissed.

"You gave in way too easily, Seonghwa ah." Hongjoong laughed and leaned back into his seat.

"I already have enough to think about. I have to pick my battles. Plus, if they can handle it for us, I won't risk getting blood on my new coat." Seonghwa said.

~

Series masterlist

[skele-bunny]

Mountain's Revenge. (CW) Swiss/Mountain

CW: Dubcon, Forced Intox, Sounding, Piss

Characters: Swiss, Mountain

A little gift for the amazing @hypnoneghoul ! I had such a blast with this.

Read under the cut or on AO3!

“Damnit, Swiss!” Mountain hissed between his teeth, looking down at his stash jar opened and half empty. “I just filled this thing, you stoner…”

The earth ghoul moved towards the LED section of the greenhouse and crouched down, hands delicately lifting one of the plants and listening to its hum. Mountain knew Swiss visited much too often, and that also meant he's aware of the plants ready to be harvested, dried, and trimmed. With a tail flick against the ground, Mountain stared at the mister that continued flowing before his ears perked up - cheeks turning dark as an idea came into his mind. 

Swiss knew when the next harvesting date was, and Mountain was positive he'd get the point across. Moving around, Mountain began to plant heavy ferns and letting certain plants overgrow - even if it hurt his heart to see. Through the days, he had made more frequent trips to tend to the greenhouse, and Swiss was none the wiser. Just like he hoped. Just like he planned. 

Two weeks later in the middle of the night, Mountain's ‘prophecy’ became true as Swiss peeked his head through, smiling as it was clear. The multi made his way to the handmade stock shelf, standing on his tiptoes to grab the clear jar at the top, purrs loud and content. With excitement in his step, Swiss sat down on a chair Mountain kept nearby his workbench, opening the metal clip and practicing moaning as the strong smell of cannabis snuck into his airways. It always had a strong scent of cinnamon, signifying the strength and meant for Ghoul lungs only. Satan save whatever sibling that dared to try. 

Reaching into his pocket, Swiss pulled out wraps he and Cumulus had picked out while on tour - different flavors but specifically picking out a strawberry one. Unwrapping the wrap, Swiss pulled off the lining before reaching into the jar, using his nails to measure out before grinding with care; falling into the all too familiar rhythm of rolling. He brought the roll to his tongue, licking along the side before closing with a squeeze - finally releasing with a happy purr. Swiss leaned into the chair and brought his finger up, lighting his blunt with his spare fire element. With a long drag, Swiss held himself before exhaling, giving a slight cough as the cinnamon taste was more noticeable than normal.

“Damn.” Swiss laughed under his breath, bringing the blunt back to his lips.

He had lost count, really. Was it two inhales? Eight? He didn't know. Two blunts in and Swiss couldn't even move his head much, lost in an array of different flavors and sensations. His eyes began to flutter as the sound of movement picked up on his ears, but his body proved too weak to do anything. Swiss felt so lost in head, focusing on the euphoria and numbness, he didn't notice the feeling of something creeping up his leg. Swiss let out a whine as his body was picked up, something cradling his head and lower back, sighing as he was wrapped up by his legs.

“M…” Swiss tried to lift his head. “Moun’ty?” 

There was no response, just sensations. Swiss exhaled as he felt his pants slowly being dragged down, arms carefully pulled up by the wrists and tank top discarded. 

“No,” A shaking breath. “M’ too fucked up.”

Whoever it was, whatever it was, didn't listen. Unbeknownst to Swiss, vines had emerged from both the ceiling and ground, some downing thorns and some slick and smooth. The ones with thorns wrapped around his wrists and ankles, one loose around his neck while the nude vines began to squirm and wriggle their way across his body. One of the smooths carefully pushed its tip into Swiss’ mouth, holding the last dead bit of his roach that Swiss accidentally fell asleep with. It was brought to his slightly parted lips, Swiss trying to inhale air only to meet smoke. He let out a long whine, falling more limp into the vines holding him, tail lax and freely dangling. 

The numbness through Swiss’ body felt like a switch had been turned off - mind still dull but body set ablaze. He groaned as he could feel everything down to the minute detail, how his glamor began to slip and vines went through his talons to wrap around his calves, how the thorns around his neck were barely grazing to keep him safe but still provide a threat. Swiss inhaled sharply as more nude vines began to squirm at his most sensitive parts: slowly massaging his armpits and love handles, inner thighs being completely wrapped around and squeezed, even his tail being snaked around and lightly pulled. His body absentmindedly responded to the frictions by his cock slowly chubbing, another whine dragging through his throat. 

Drool began to go down Swiss’ lip and a nude carefully began to sneak it's way up before entering his mouth, tip gliding over the multi’s tongue before suddenly shoving down his throat. It seemed like a signal as the others pounced. Swiss gagged, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, thighs forcefully opened and now feeling his cock being squeezed. Swiss wanted to squirm, wanted to bite, yell, and especially cut the damn things, but all his body could do was make him moan and whine. 

He was unaware that a budding flower that had some kind of syrup covering its petals began to lift up to his ass before it touched him, smearing it's syrup over his hole then reaching up to his cock. Swiss shivered and gagged harder as the vine in his throat shoved further down, retracting and thrusting back down. It throat fucked him with no mercy, slowly pulsing as it kept a steady rhythm - Swiss' eyes rolling back as he let out the most beautiful wet gags and chokes. He felt the bud smear at his cock’s tip before finally retracting back to its pot. 

A much thinner, tiny vine broke off from its parent as it teased his urethra. Swiss felt nothing but white fire as it slid down in, squirming and flicking around rapidly. It kept pushing and digging, Swiss left in hysterics but muffled by the vine in his throat still. Once it deemed itself fully seated, it went still, and the mother in the ghouls throat finally pulled out. Heavy breaths left the multi's throat, trying to cough and still gagging on his spit. His entire front was a deep red and yellow, body shaking as the sudden sounding caught him off guard more than he already was. 

Despite his best efforts, Swiss couldn't form a straight sentence in his head. There was nothing but feeling. Droplets of color spread amongst his consciousness, seeing the vine in his cock as a bright orange. 

Swiss felt his legs being pushed towards his chest, and it bubbled a purple. Something prodded at his home before sinking in, a green. A strained moan came from the multi ghoul’s throat, being ripped from him as he was entered by the nude. 

It didn't even bother to wait before thrusting into his body, the thorned keeping him still as the nude went into the deepest crevices, Swiss keening as he could feel it twist past his rectum and into his colon. Nothing but red and violet filled Swiss, mouth lax and fucked in both the head and now ass. His cock strained against his abdomen, the thin inside his urethra slowly starting to squirm which set him off more, pre desperate to leak out. His body was on complete fire and if he was more conscious, he would've assumed himself back in the pits. 

It felt like both torment and pleasure as he was fucked helplessly, even as his body was rotated so he was upside down so another vine near the ceiling could squirm it's way in his ass too. The two nudes went at different paces out of sink, sending Swiss into hysterics, tears trailing down his forehead to mix with his own drool. His cock felt like it was turning purple from the neglect to cum, the thin never once leaving or showing signs it was. Bliss clouded his head, lost in his intoxication and body. 

With nothing becoming clear anymore, Swiss was stuck in a repetitive circle of moaning and loose begs that wasn't coherent - just babbles and murmurs that wouldn't have sound. He could feel his slick dripping down his skin every time the nudes pulled out, slinging his own bodily fluids around. Perhaps it was just another minute, just another hour, or even a few more but all Swiss knew was that his cock ached desperately and his hole had finally begun to gape around them. With the feeling of the thin squirming, Swiss was able to let out a pain-relieved sob as it suddenly yanked out and he instantly coated himself and the ground below in both piss and cum. The vine around his neck tilted him back out of a mindless courtesy, but not once did the nudes in his hole stop.

They continued until another orgasm wrecked Swiss’ system, now fully crying from the overstimulation as his dumb, fogged brain couldn't process. He heaved for air and finally everything came to a slow stop. The nudes in his ass slowly retracted with wet squelches, watching as Swiss’ hole tried to wink to no avail from the loss. It was a gentle rotation back up so he didn't vomit, then suddenly cradled by warmth. 

Mountain looked down at his mate that laid in his arms, covered in his own mess and trying to breathe - his eyes completely pitched out with stars. He'd have to thank Aether for spiking his weed. He leaned down and kissed the multi's forehead, starting to purr as he walked out of the greenhouse; vines retracting back to their respective plants. 

“You did so good, beautiful…” Mountain mumbled, tail wagging. “Watched the entire time… I have to fuck you more like that, don't I?” 

Swiss closed his eyes, babbling again under his breath. Mountain could only chuckle, watching each step as he slowly approached the abbey. 

“I'm glad you agree.”

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Witches and Ghouls - Jabberwock Edition

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "How would to Tokyo Debunker characters find out about and react to a Witch! Reader?"

I had to split it up into a few sections, separating the boys by their houses so here's the next part. The links to all the others are below. I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi, Ren Shiranami x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're a witch! And even though the characters have made deals with demons themselves, they might have some surprising reactions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think Haru would actually be pretty oblivious to this. It’s going to completely blindside him since he’s so busy running Jabberwock.

And as much as he cares about you, wondering whether you’re a witch or not isn’t super high up on his list or priorities.

His perception of you doesn’t change a whole lot but he will ask you to help out more around Jabberwock since he knows now that you aren’t a defenceless human.

He’ll also keep an eye out for any hard to find ingredients you might need. Jabberwock is pretty big and there’s a lot of strange plants growing there.

Towa’s going to know instinctively about your witchy powers. The moment he sees you, he’s going to smile mysteriously and hand you some ferns (a plant that represents magic).

He won’t tell anyone though. He likes being in on your little secret and wants to keep it just between the two of you.

He also won’t be put off by your witchiness. He’s pretty strange himself so if anything, he thinks it’s nice being around someone with strange abilities who’s not a ghoul.

Much like Haru, if you need any plants, he’s all over it. He knows Jabberwock even better than the captain and will often bring you plans even if you don’t ask for them.

Ren is the last to know. He’s watched one too many b-rated horror movies and now he has no idea what a real witch looks like.

Totally blindsided and completely freaked out. He’s used to those things happening in movies, not real life and it’s going to take him a while to rationalise everything.

Once he realises that he still cares about you regardless, he’s immediately falling into the “oh, okay, that actually changes nothing” category.

The revelation really isn’t going to change anything about your relationship. He won’t ask anything of you, as long as you don’t ask too much of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

[cryptwrites]

Poisons

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

Keep In Mind:

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

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

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

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

Common Poisons

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

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

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

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

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

If someones poisoning another:

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

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

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

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

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

[garmmy]

some birbs i drew for fe rally for gaza!! thank you all so much again for your kind donations and i hope it can help to make even a little difference 🙏 and wishing for the day to come when people going about their everyday lives like you and i get to do so in a peaceful country.

can you identify the fe characters? names of characters and donors under the cut:

birb sommie for gzei

birb silas for runic

birb dew for tehlostone

birb linhardt for plant

birb hawk for charisu

birb micaiah for em

birb linhardt for aly

birb lewyn for jikkyu

birb lon'qu for jikkyu

birb kagero for fern

birb seliph for spencer

birb ranulf for krikrikawa

birb shura for knee

birb henry for sho

birb gaius for esha

birb severa for esha

birb marianne for runic

birb ignatz for runic

birb lugh for potato

birb almedha for lily

thank you all so much for the help 💕

[alien-magnolia]

Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

[writingwithfolklore]

Get Specific

                I’ve given a lot of feedback (and received even more) across my writing career, and I think one of the most common things I’ve traded with writers is Get Specific. In everything, all the time. Specificity is easy to gloss over because we aren’t actually seeing the scene in front of us—so while we may subconsciously know the trees are cedars, we just write trees. However, word choices matter, and those tiny specific details are painting your world, carrying your tone, and exploring the uniqueness of your writer voice.

                What kind of trees? What colour is the rug? What’s included in the breakfast and how does it taste? It’ll be easier to take away too many details than to go back through and try to find every missed opportunity.

                However, the level of detail also depends on what the character knows. A biologist should be able to name the different kinds of plants around them with specificity, whereas another character may generalize to ‘ferns’ or ‘small yellow flowers’. Either way, you can get specific using just a general level of knowledge—size, colour, texture, smell, taste, etc.

                We create specificity in focusing in on our five senses. If we need to consider what the flower smells like, we’ll have to consider what kind of flower it is, so ‘pretty flowers lined the walkway’ becomes ‘delicate stalks of lavender lined the walkway, their sweet, floral scent hanging on the air—reminding me of bathroom soap.’ Etc. etc.

                Try picking out a scene you’ve written recently and see where you can add more specific imagery—how does it change the tone of the scene?

                Good luck!

[vaccariia]

Omgg I love your keyframes fanart, your mc is sooo pretty <333. I need to hear your thoughts on Elio !! (If you feel like sharing ofc, I've been obsessed with him and i wanna know what other people think lol)

M.....MY FIRST ANON ASK????!?!? MY MC IS PRETTY?? AND A FELLOW ELIO FAN????? THANK U!!!!!

anon, you are opening the metaphorical pandora's box in me. i played the extended demo a few more times because i wanted to see elio again FOR RESEARCH so i think i'm ready to put my thoughts into paper

(Uhhh disclaimer, this is my first time doing something like this, normally i just keep my thoughts to myself. So everything under here is merely speculative and things i made up LOL)

(Also I took some screenshots and used them to reinforce some of my statements. Game and characters are not mine, they belong to blank house, etc. etc. please do let me know if screenshots are not allowed, i'd be more than willing to remove them from this post!)

______________________________________________________________

I want to begin by citing a post from the devs . Said post contains an ask summarizing the LI's into three words. For Elio, he's given the following descriptors:

Sweet, sensitive, wild Determined, hopeful, friendly

(First line is how the devs would describe Elio, second line would be how Elio probably sees himself)

And for the most part, the traits DO check out!! He's sweet, especially when he's with his boys <3 We've also seen him be considerate with the MC and others (i.e carrying groceries for mc and refilling bottles, among other instances)

But I do want to say that despite his wild and impulsive tendencies, he does have a more delicate side to him

When MC tags along with Percy and Elio for a snack run, they have the option to check out a plant stall manned by the horticulture club. It's in this part where he reveals to MC that he knows a lot about ferns, but there's a particular set of lines that made me feel that there's something more to Elio than he lets on

His reaction to seeing the staghorn fern and recounting his childhood tells me that Elio had some rather fond memories from his youth.

i'm probably projecting here, but he can also get a bit homesick because of it. (imagine being in Hawai'i your whole life and then having to move to NY for school. Guy probably had a hard time adjusting at first. I mean granted it's the same country, but different states still have different norms and values to go by)

Additionally, I find it quite interesting that Elio doesn't give himself credit (Or downplays himself) sometimes. Like, man was fighting for his life when he was being stickered by Rory. Ooor the part where he says that the gang doesn't have to celebrate his birthday

This leads me to assume that he's the type to look out for others and has the tendency of putting himself second...

I'm guessing Elio is also a big family man, judging by how fondly he speaks of his siblings. Aaaaaand he could also potentially be a bit of a hopeless romantic because he's hopeful about wanting to experience a love that's similar to his parents someday <3 <3 <3

So yeah, there! Elio is true to his name; a jovial man who embodies the light of the sun. He is loved by all, (except for most animals, i'm sorry </3) and he reciprocates that love tenfold. He's competitive and lively, but he can also show a softer side if he wants to hehe

Tl;dr: I LOVE ELIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[the-possum-writes]

Gardening and a Glass of Orange Juice

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Wordcount: 1388

❥Tags: SFW, Chubby!reader, gender neutral, mutual pinning, fluff, one shot, just two dorks chatting a bit.

❥Synopsis: A small little visit from a certain adventurer brings up a few memories from the past as the two of you share a glass of fresh orange juice.

❥A/N: I thought I received a request for Finn/chubby reader and came up with this in one go but turns out it included Fern- whoops! I'll be sharing this one shot as its own thing while I write something with the two of them and finish my 2024 master list. (I'm testing out a new format, bare with me)

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder

It's the beginning of summer and what better way to prepare than to tend your garden with seasonal goods, your spring batch of flowers are lovely of course but the thought of eating home-grown watermelon while taking in the view of sunflowers and marigolds had you working the moment June came up in your calendar.

That's how you've spent the whole morning toiling away at the soil until it was smooth enough to plant seeds, even if it meant sinking easily into the dirt due to your weight but there's not much to complain about the smell of fresh dirt or at least until you hear ringing coming from the bell by the main entrance to your home. Oh! A visitor. You leave behind your tools and dust your hands on the side of your clothes before checking through the peephole only to reveal blue eyes and a bright smile, if there's anything else besides gardening that has you equally excited it's this adventurer. "Look who decided to pop around, got tired of adventuring yet Finn?" You open the door to greet him with a smile that could match his, only difference is that you still have all your teeth.

"Only if you got bored of babysitting plants and whatnot." He snapped right back knowinly, already awaiting the answer.

"Heck nah," you wave a hand, it's then that you noticed the gator biting into the side of his robot arm. "By the looks of it, neither have you. What's with the gator?"

Finn looks down at the animal completely unfazed as if a fly just landed on his shoulder. "Oh just a little science experiment that escaped PB's shack, I was on my way to bring it back til I saw something that reminded me of you." It's then that Finn pulls out a ceramic pot from his backpack with his good arm, handing it over as your playful smile tones down into a content one. You give the bowl a closer view, admiring it's matte purple color that would look wonderful with a couple of cosmos, it's a little chipped off around the edges but it's a little imperfection that reminds you of the person who gave it to you. 

"I love it, thanks Finn." You try to give him one of your classic bear hugs in return but it only made the gator growl at you, breaking into laughter between the two of you. "How about I fetch you a glass of orange juice instead?"

Finn nods and follows you into the kitchen noticing there's different potted plants in here than the last time he visited you, he sits on a dining chair to the best of his abilities with a live animal chowing down on him but it's nothing more than an afterthought when he takes in the sight of you at the kitchen counter. How you move around comfortable in your own skin despite how much dirt was on you considering your favorite hobby, with the weather being as hot as it is today he takes note that you're dressed appropriately that allows good movement and sheds you from the sun, now, Finn is far from knowing anything about fashion nor does he pay mine to what others wear but he particularly likes how your current loose fitting outfit sways everytime you go back and forth looking for a clean cup, it reminds him of tree canopies swaying in the wind. He also takes note of the skin on your arms and your face, sprinkled with telltale signs of work under the sun due to dried patches of skin peeling off, he wonders if you've been using enough sunscreen but then again he isn't one to talk with how spotted his own arms became. Anyone can chalk it down to being hipocrit but in reality he cares about you more than he does about himself- I mean, he's got an entire gator on his arm.

"Here ya go, sorry for the mess I forgot to do dishes yesterday."  You apologize, holding two glasses for both of you.

"Thanks."

But in that small instant Finn also admired your hands, they're heftier than his but also just as hardworking with years of experience using gardening tools and littered with small faded cuts due to handling flowers with thorns.

You caught him staring but you tried to not make note of it. "So, going back to Princess Bubblegum huh? How's she holding up? Last time I heard she got overthrown by that old coot King of Ooo."

"She's been doing alright, she moved in her uncle's shack and started growing stuff like you do."

"Huh, never knew she'd had it in her to work on stuff outside of castles and laboratories..." You raise your eyebrows. "You know, princesses with their luscious hair and dainty princess hands."

Finn notes there's something mixed in this conversation, jealousy perhaps?

"Well, I've lost a few arm wrestling matches against Muscle Princess."

You snort a bit at that. "Alright maybe not all of them. But you've always been popular with them, heck I remember back in the day you were head over heels and couldn't take three steps out of your house without a princess calling for help even though we had plans." 

Ah, so that's what it is. Resentment.

"Oh yeah... I mean I still help anyone who needs it, but atleast I know how to handle my time than when I was a kid." Finn tries to laugh it off but he still feels the regret creeping in, so he plays it off nonchalantly by taking a long sip from his juice even though it was eating him on the inside.

"True..." You look away with your own cup in hand. "Has there been any huge differences between that kid and now?" You asked him, wanting to hear his perspective.

"A few, but the first one that comes to mind is that I make room for important things and people."

You take a moment to let that sink in, turning your attention to the matte flower pot he brought you. It's now that you feel silly for bringing up the past when it only exists in memories, your line of thought was interrupted when you broke into a chuckle as you hear the gator growl once more. "Well, there will be time to hang out once you don't have an alligator chomping on your arm." You down the last gulp of your juice and turn around to look for something in your drawers while Finn finishes his own glass. Once he's done he leaves the cup on the kitchen table while you hand him a few bags of seeds. "Here, it's a good season to grow cucumbers and I happen to have a few extra lying around, they should be easy to maintain if PB doesn't have that much experience with produce yet. And tell her I said hi." 

Finn accepts the seeds and pockets them.

"I could come back and help you out placing the sticks and strings around them."

"Oh don't worry about that, I've grown used to placing trellis on my own... But it wouldn't hurt to have an extra hand. That is, if the gator doesn't bite it off first."

This time Finn is the one chuckling but considering the state of his robotic arm and the dents left by the gator, his laughter is more so on the nervous side as the animal has been chomping on it for a while now.

"I'll hurry up then." 

You company the young man to your door but not without bidding him goodbye in a funny way, holding your laughter during the way out. "Alrighty then, see you later alligator." You wave, almost cracking down at the sight of his expression before returning the favor.

"See you in a while crocodile." Finn waves back.

By the time you close the door you break down in a hysterical laughter until your sides hurt, it's then that you're left in a better mood than earlier as you make your way to the kitchen and prepare extra orange juice for your visitor because unlike other times when the call of action was too strong for him to ignore, you get the feeling he'll come straight back to you this time.

[hirschkuh-im-traum]

You've got me voodoo'd

prologue, chapter one, next chapters

You've always believed in magic, soul and true love, but the fate you've chosen is not what you need. Could you change the mistake? The moment his eyes found you, you knew who was your destiny. Black magic, murder, lie — nothing could stop you from being with the one who you've chosen as your new fate. The secrets darker than yours hidden behind his charming smile only lured you more.

warnings: a pretty dark story with explicit violent and sexual content

author's note: in this chapter there is a short scene that i marked with the sign || on both sides so you can miss it because it includes worms and maybe you just like me feel rather uncomfortable with these creatures and prefer miss every mention of them (nevertheless i've written this, yeah)

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

As soon as your husband went to work by car and you cleaned the dishes, you put on your coat and left the house. The house you lived in stood near a route through the forest in a little pine grove, surrounded by high trees and ferns. The house stood in the shadows, so it was always cold and damp around and inside. Just several hours a day the sun sent its goldish light in the windows of your living room, and the pines casted their long black shadows on the wooden floor of your dwelling. But after all, this place was perfect for your activity and your character, and you could like it more only if you didn't feel like a prisoner in a god-forsaken place, for it was an out-of-the-way place without any neighbours or entertainment. Without any witnesses.

You went down the route, reflecting: The way to the city would take about an hour by foot, then you had to find the radio station where Alastor worked, it could take about an hour too, for you weren't at the city centre very often and didn't know it well. Then you wanted to watch where he would go next, wanted to follow him to know something more about him, maybe to see where he lived or his favourite restaurant. And in the evening you had to come back home and have time to prepare dinner before your husband returned. This was your plan for today and you really hoped to not to mess it up.

The building you found was quite modern and pretty high, above the main entrance there was a white sign board with red flashing letters, saying that there was the radio studio. You sat at the edge of a high flower-bed on the opposite side of the road, slightly aside from the main entrance, so you wouldn't be noticed when he came out, and you took out a book from your bag. You could spend your time usefully, reading about poisonous plants in your area, while you were waiting until Alastor left his office.

There were pretty much poisonous plants, herbs and berries in Louisiana. Even a magnificent pink shrub with already half dead petals, under which you were sitting now, was a poisonous oleander, as dangerous as beautiful. Luckily other flowers beside you were harmless.

And what you considered even more fortune was the fact that a lot of poisonous plants inhabited the areas very similar to where you lived. Those deadly flowers avoided the sunlight and grew in wetness and darkness, they preferred swamps, bogs and roadsides to sunny fields. They kept their distance, obtaining their basilisk strength in the partly-shaded areas. Turning the pages and making notes with a pencil, you couldn’t help but think how your own self put down the roots to the moist and shady place where you lived. New Orleans wasn't your hometown, you removed here after your marriage, and honestly you liked this place, despite all the painful memories and bruises you were given here. After all, it wasn't the fault of the city that your husband was a total asshole. You liked the atmosphere hovering in the air: jazz sounding from every corner, old trees overgrown with Spanish moss, old creepy legends and ghost stories that made even your blood run cold, even those thunderstorms befalling time after time occupied a special place in your heart, as you were astonished with their blinding lightning and majestic thunder, making you believe in the primary and unbridled strength of Nature.

No venom ran through your veins, saturating your skin with toxins and turning every touch to you in a painful sting, but you'd rid this place of just a single soul to make this earth paradise better.

You made a list of the most dangerous flowers, the plants, one touch of which could cause an itchy burn, and one berry of which could cause nausea and/or hallucinations (the idea of causing a frightening hallucination to your husband made an evil smile spread your face, you wouldn’t be the only one afraid). Because of the lack of your chemistry knowledge you couldn't cook a deadly potion, but you could use fresh berries and leaves. So, you wrote down some attractive names: poison sumac, deadly nightshade, milkweed, poison ivy.

You didn't notice how time went by, and the white sun shone through thin rain clouds. Alastor walked out of the building, and with large and confident steps of his long legs he went to the right. You jumped off from the flower-bed, crossed the road, successfully avoiding the mad drivers, and took your place behind his back, staying in the necessary distance. You quickly moved your feet in your soft-heeled shoes, making every step silent. Alastor had a fast pace, but you didn't worry to lose his sight as his tall figure towered above everyone, whilst you easily hid behind the bodies of strangers. It was midday and people began to crowd the street. You looked at your wristwatches and made a mental note at what time Alastor got off work at least this day of the week.

You got used to your new pace, you adroitly swinged between men and women without taking your eyes from Alastor's back. Not once you stumbled or bumped into anyone on the crowded sidewalk, Alastor not once looked back. Everything was going perfect. It appeared easier than you thought.

Suddenly he turned to the right, and your legs moved to the opposite side of the pavement to keep you unnoticed to his eyes. You stopped around the corner of the building which he turned and leaned against the wall, watching as he got into the car and drove away through the alleyway. You were sure you saw a few free parking places right in front of his studio, why then he let his car here? And he didn't go out onto the main road, but went through smaller streets, less busy and noisy. For now you couldn't answer these questions. All you could do now was heading back to the house and draw up a new, better plan of knowing Alastor more.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

With the botanic book and your notebook in one hand and a little basket in the other one, you went through the woods in search of plants you’d chosen as a perfect last meal for your husband. But though you started your searches this morning, you weren't going to poison him tonight. You wished you murdered him today, right now. You had to wait. You had to prepare everything to become independent even after your husband's death. Better kill him tonight. And moreover, you thought about poisoning him gradually, adding a little of deadly leaves in his meal day by day, until he got sick with something strange and died slowly because of a disease. A peaceful, quiet death. Was it what you wanted for him?

No.

But you picked off the flowers, cut mushrooms, collected berries, throwing all these little life reapers in your basket. You protected your hands with your husband's gloves as you didn't have yours, but you weren't going to clean them later, smiling in foretaste of his little pain when he'd put them on and accidentally scratch his nose.

You went deeper and deeper into the woods, trying to find the most shaded and wet places filled with mortal flora. You even passed the small bog, the spot you never crossed before. It was beautiful in this part of the forest, where you'd never been earlier, but you weren't afraid to get lost, as you let small cuts on the trunks of the trees from the south side, the direction where your house stood. || You glanced in the basket and almost squeaked when you saw a worm crawling out from one of the toadstools. The basket immediately fell on the mossy ground, the contents spillet out at your feet. The worm-eaten mushroom poked at the toe of your shoe, with a grimace on your face you kicked it in the bushes.

“Disgusting.” You hissed through your clenched teeth.

With slightly trembling hands you picked your herbs again (leaving all the fungi lying on the ground) and turned around to return to your house. Some could find the idea of feeding your hateful husband with a wormy mushroom quite thrilling, but your disgust for some things was stronger than your hate. Maybe your hatred to insects, worms, caterpillars etc was the reason, maybe not a realising one, why you didn't partake herbalism as your hobby. The sign of blood and raw flesh was much more bearable for you than a terrifying swarming of oblong little bodies with too many or even without any limbs. ||

You went back to the bog when you noticed a pretty shrub not so far with smooth green leaves slightly reddened on the tips as if rusted with October and black glistening berries. Must be some kind of a black nightshade? But why then its branches were white as if covered with snow? You flicked your book through, noticed some similar illustrations of poisonous plants, but nothing exactly lust like the one before your eyes. Wrong shape of leaves and velvet on them, whilst your plant was absolutely smooth with light ribs on the green, the book described plants about five feet tall and yours barely reached your knees, it had a light sweet scent, and the book gave you no information about the fragrance. Perhaps, you should discover it yourself?

As you kneeled down to throw some black fruits and leaves in your basket, you noticed a shape of a building through the fence of slender pines. Brushing the dirt off your knees, you headed forward, eyes locked to the silhoutte.

There was a house on the glade. Looking out from behind the mossed trunks of the trees that surrounded the edge of the clearing, you hesitated to go forward. It was not too big a two-story wooden house with an attic. Several windows were shuttered, but those that remained open reflected the evening sun, blinding you with golden light, and you moved aside, hiding behind a tree, like a wild animal hiding from a man, too afraid to come closer but too curious to pretend like nothing had happened. There was no one around, and the house itself seemed quiet, although clearly inhabited, judging by the smoke coming out of the chimney. How cosy it must have been there... The house adjoined the forest, the porch faced north and through the trees you could see a grey strip of the roadway. It seemed that this house, just like the one you lived in, was built for people who loved solitude and nature, but didn’t want to completely shut themselves off from the world. You went a little further forward, the wet branches cracked dully under your feet; You looked closer and raised your leg to take a step forward, but instead stepped back. Your eyes widened in surprise. Parked at the porch was the same car Alastor had driven away a few hours earlier.

You ran home as fast as you could, jumped over the roots, avoided puddles, took shortcuts by leaving the paths and running across the glades. Your books were placed in the basket, which you pressed to your chest, some fruits were already crushed under their hard covers and some herbs flew out from the basket, but you didn't stop. The sun was steadily approaching the horizon.

Gosh, it was so late! You thought you watched the time carefully, but it appeared that you lost too much time just staring at Alastor's house, and when you realised it, you rushed away from the place, but in a hurry you got almost lost in unfamiliar territory, and you lost more precious minutes to finally find the right way. And, oh god, you remembered you hadn't prepared dinner for Oscar! You could get a real punishment from him, if he came back before you and found out that you'd just been floating around for the whole day.

You ran up the back steps, burst inside and listened. Silence. Deep sunset silence, but not an ominous silence. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you quickly ran to the bedroom to change your dirtied dress and leave the stained coat in the bathroom.

The moment you entered the kitchen, you heard the click of the lock in the front door. The door opened and the heavy steps headed to the living room.

You casted your books into a hanging box, where you kept all your vials, instructions for spells and rituals, some bones and now some herbs too. You knew, your husband would never touch anything in the kitchen except a fork and a knife during his meal. The kitchen was a woman's place, and despite how humiliatingly and deprecatingly it was, you couldn't deny it played into your hands, as he had no interest in familiarising himself with something womanish.

You heard the steps turning to the direction of the kitchen, he headed for you, as you put on your apron and took a knife to cut the first thing that went to your hand. A carrot.

“You better hurry up, pet, you know?” Displeasure was heard in the tired voice behind your back. You could actually feel how he frowningly gazed at the vegetable in your palm. Your husband wasn't a big fan of vegetables, and honestly anything but meat, so for your own safety you wanted to assure him that there would be beef tonight, but you were afraid that your voice could fail you, as you still didn't catch your breath after a long race and cold fear squeezing your throat. So you just nodded.

“I can't hear you,” His grumble.

“Yes!” Your exclamation and mistake. That sounded more aggressive and irritated than you intended.

“So yelling at me, huh?” You were harshly grabbed by your hair, burning pain on your scalp, and next second your head met the surface of the hanging box. It was a single hit, but shocking and harsh enough to make tears forming in your eyes.

He left the room, ordering you that the food had to be prepared no later than fifteen minutes. With your weak hand you opened the box and took out a green leaf with sharpened edges, not paying attention you could hurt your fingertips with toxins. You felt a slight pricking at your fingertips. Perhaps tonight you could find out how this mysterious plant worked?

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

In the morning you prepared dinner in advance, this day bided fair to be busier than yesterday, and though you didn't want to waste even a second on your husband, you didn't want to get another hit, you already had a small bruise on your forehead. As soon as Oscar's car left your sight of view, you disappeared in the woods. Today was sunny and Oscar’s hounds didn't bark at you as you passed by, and you took it all as a good sign.

Yesterday's meal didn't affect your husband much, he experienced slight pains in his stomach but nothing more. It didn't upset you much though, maybe you were even happy that it turned that way. Now you ascertained that the herb wasn't edible, and now you could collect more of the glittering leaves, or even try to use its fruits. To your surprise Oscar didn't even think of blaming you or your food for the discomfort, and you found it delightfully helpful. The man trusted you. Ironically.

You got to the bog and turned to the left. You didn't leave cut marks here yesterday, for you were sure Alastor knew his territory as well as you knew yours, so every scratch, every footprint would be immediately noticed, and you didn’t want to rouse any suspicions in Alastor and to draw his attention. So you went from memory.

Soon you reached the little pine grove. The sun was still on the east side of the sky, telling you it was still early morning, but nevertheless you could feel how slightly cool air was getting warmer with every passing minute, making you loosen your scarf. The unexpected and pleasant Indian summer in the middle of October.

The house looked just like yesterday, except there was no smoke coming out of the chimney, and the car wasn't parked by the porch. It wasn't actually there at all. You sighed in relief and with a small smile on your lips you left the shade of the trees. The grass was still wet with dew somewhere and it glistened on your boots already covered with brown leaves. Crossing the glade, you tried to look into the windows, but saw nothing more than the silhouettes of furniture in the darkness.

You came up to the steps of the backdoor and took off your shoes one by one to take them in your hands. You couldn't leave dirty footsteps on his floor. Carefully you broke open the door and stepped inside.

The smell of wood and spices wrapped your nostrils, and you couldn't help but take a deeper breath to keep more of the scent inside your lungs. With your bare feet you trod through the narrow corridor; Some boards squeaked under your steps, making you believe it was an old house though nevertheless obviously good looked after.

The house was still plunged into semi-darkness, for the sunbeams hardly broke through the trees outside the window, but it felt much more peaceful and calm here than in your house. There was no dampness hardening your breath, the stink of alcohol didn't spoil the air, no barking from the outside or curses from the next room. So quietly. But there was something else. Solitude and secrecy, as if the inhabitant of the house kept something from the light of the day and was pround of his secret. The dusk of the room seemed to confirm your thoughts.

Without hurrying you looked around every room that wasn't locked, noting to the details, that made the place look and feel like home: Worn books and old pictures, the strong scent of spices in the kitchen, rumpled cushions on a sofa, scratched after a long use gramophone records, a pair of gloves and a hat jauntily thrown on a commode, an old music book on the piano, a slightly soiled mirror and a barely noticeable aroma of cologne in the bathroom. Every single detail was new to you, but it also felt familiar. The most worn books were your favourite stories, faces of a boy and a woman in the pictures brought warm to your chest, the products in the kitchen seemed to welcome you to cook them. Everything was too dear for an unfamiliar place.

Exploring room by room, you couldn't help but imagine how it would be to live here. To take care of this place, to fill it with warmth and love, with joy and a tad of magic, to let your souls intertwine in these walls just like your bodies, to dance and eat together, to cuddle in front of the fireplace, to share one bed and one blanket. The thoughts brought a weak smile on your face and watered your eyes. It could happen, couldn't it? You'd already found your soul and home, and you could keep your love in your embrace, right?

Taking a breath, you casted depressing thoughts away. Of course you could do it. You came here for it.

The next room turned out to be Alastor’s office and a small library. On the desk there were scenarios of previous and future broadcasts, some papers and notes, even funny drafts. You came up to the bookshelves, and your eyes widened in surprise. In the living room Alastor kept fiction, while here he held specific books about radios and, surprisingly, magic books. There were old authorless and more modern authored books about dark magic, mostly about voodoo. Some of these books you read yourself, some recipes and spells described on these pages were the base of your own rituals.

You stared in wonder at the leather covers, shocked and bewildered. You expected to face anything, but not this.

In the corridor you guessed how much Alastor knew about magic. Was he like you, a sorcerer, or did he just read them but didn't use them? Read it like some people read about wild nature but never even hiked in their life? You didn't find any specific objects in any room, but, perhaps, he could keep them in the attic or basement? They were padlocked after all.

Slowly you opened the next door, a large wooden bed covered with an eiderdown showed to your roaming eyes. For a moment you hesitated to step inside, the bedroom was the most private place in any house, the place where a person let themselves be vulnerable or where they shared their privacy with someone they trusted. The room where you dreamt and daydreamt, where you rested your mind, body and soul, the room where you were wrapped with nightmares or fought with them; It was the place for your soul to control your body.

Your want won your indecision and you entered the room. It seemed to you that the home scent here was stronger, just like the haunting feeling of secrecy.

From the window you could see the glade illuminated with the sun now. Somewhere behind these woods stood your house, and it waited for you to come back. You wished you could lock yourself in this room forever and open the door only when Alastor returned. But it was too early for such actions yet. You had to prepare him for meeting with you. You had no doubt he felt the same as you when you first met, his gaze was so intent and so full of your own experiences, with an exclusion that he fought his fear and now acted as he desired. Within yourself you felt it was something dark, and looking into his eyes you saw how inhumanly wild it could be. For sure, the core of this secrecy impregnating the air here was enclosed in this craving.

Now remembering that night, you were sure he wasn't just a reader of forbidden books. Yes, in his eyes you saw his pride of knowing more than any other mortal does. And understanding that you knew the same.

Your hands touched the wooden window-frame. For your plan to come true you had to be sure that Alastor would leave the window open for the night, and as you didn't know if he had this habit (you didn't know it yet), you should have taken care of it yourself. You put your boots to the floor, so they wouldn't stain the red carpet, and took out a knife from your coat that you left there from yesterday. You placed the blade between two wooden bars and pushed. You wanted to make a small chink, invisible for the one who didn't know it even was there, but large enough to let wind blow through it.

Suddenly the knife slid down, scratching the frame and cutting your finger. The wood turned in a darker brown colour, immediately soaking in your blood. “Damn,” You hastened to the bed and pressed your cut finger to the back side of the round top of the headboard rail. You’d never done the night visiting ritual before, there was no person you wanted to meet in a dream, but the preparation and the main part of the ritual you remembered very well, as you always wished to perform it. And it wasn't difficult after all. You combined two rituals in it: an ancient ritual of soul night travel and a blood spell you made yourself.

The bloody spot was unnoticed from every corner and you smiled proudly. You wrapped your finger in your handkerchief and hid your hand in your pocket. You looked around the room in a search to find something you could take with you. Not only a souvenir but also a necessary component of the ritual. You needed something belonging to the person you wanted to meet in a dream: A garment, a hair, a droplet of blood. Something that had contact with his body — the vessel of his soul.

You opened the wardrobe and viewed the contents. His clothing seemed made by a professional hand of a tailor, none of the suits seemed too worn, and everything looked well-groomed. The colours were mostly brown and black, something red, white or beige shirts, all the shades you knew suited Alastor well. You looked over a higher shelf and took a black herringbone bow tie. You brought it to your nose, inhaling the scent, before putting the ribbon into your pocket.

When you wanted to close the doors, one shirt slid from the hanger and at the same time you heard the roar of an automobile.

You slightly cursed, shutting the doors, picked up your boots and ran out from the room. Less than ten seconds later you left the house through the back door and ran through the grass into the east side of the forest. You stopped only when you could barely see the building through the tracks of the fir trees. Only now you realised that you still pressed your shoes to your chest and your stockings were buried in the dirt. Shaking the conifer from and stuck leaves from your ankles and feet, you put on your shoes. Your breathing returned, as you slowly headed for your house, but blood still ran fast through your veins. You were so lucky today!

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

The moon was full, big and yellow, it looked out from the thin clouds as a coquette casting her glance from her feather fan. You feasted your eyes on its mystery shine for several minutes, Oscar became impatient, saying it took you too long to just open a window, but you didn't know how exactly you could admire something so beautiful for too long. The dim light of the moon was never enough for you. You moved away from the half-opened window and turned off the light. Oscar mumbled some curses and turned back to you just to immediately fall asleep. He was pretty angry today, but also tired and drunk, so he didn't torment you much this day, especially when you prepared a delightful dinner and gave him an ointment for the itching rash on his hands and face that appeared just out of nowhere. Though you hated playing nice and pretending to be a good wife, you couldn't deny lying to your husband and knowing more than him was very pleasant. The knowledge how long he had left was the most delightful, it made an almost triumphal smile decorate your face. The feeling of holding a life in one hand and death in another one, and being able to combine them in a loud clap, was so taking! You felt warmth in your guts when you imagined yourself having more men on a leash. You wished to have more control and power over people.

Oscar slept soundly, filling the room with an irritating grunt that was his snore, but you had to give him that herb tea to make his sleep deeper, to be sure he wouldn't disturb your sleep, that he would sleep longer than you, that he would feel well in the morning and would give up the idea of taking a day-off tomorrow because of continuing stomach ache.

You took out the snaffled bowtie from the pocket of your nightdress and put it under your pillow. When you lay at the very edge of the mattress, as far from Oscar as you could, you bend your elbow under your pillow, taking the soft fabric in your palm and making yourself more comfy.

You had to feel comfortable and erase your mind from any worries, your thoughts had to belong only to the object of your desire to perform the ritual successfully. You lay on your back, one hand under your pillow, fingers wrapped around the fabric Alastor once touched, the other hand was on your chest, as you concentrated on your heartbeat. Sleep crawled closer and closer to you, your eyelids became heavier, you felt a pressure on your chest and then you felt as you hovered above your shelf.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Slap. Another hit. Whine. Slap. He's too small to help, he's too small to protest. Everything is red. Ink black, bright white. He's small and he's harmed too. He can't help. He can't help.

He can.

A knife in his hand. In his small, plumply hand. Too tiny he is.

But not helpless.

Plead. Slap.

He faces the monster.

Strike with the kni-

Kick.

Her cry.

He will always be too small.

Alastor woke up, heavily breathing, his own palpitation drummed in his head. Sweat wet his temples and back, his shirt stuck to his skin so unpleasantly. He brought his shaking hands to his face, closed his eyes and breathed out.

Just a nightmare. Not even a forgotten memory. Just a bad dream that he'd already thrown from his brain away.

A stupid nightmare.

He wasn't small anymore, his hands were strong and bloody, now he was the one in control and not a blurred face from a delusion. He stood up for her, for himself, and even for others if you wish. This dream was a waste of time and nerves.

Alastor got out of bed, he needed fresh air to cool his body and mind. As he opened the window aromatic night air enveloped him, drying his slightly wet and tousled hair. The night air had a unique property — it dispelled all your unnecessary thoughts, and made you think only about the night. Stars, wind, sounds, cold. The midnight was egoistic and you had to concentrate only on it to make you worthy of its soothing cool embrace.

Alastor watched the black treetops swaying in the wind. The stars shone brightly above the branches when the dark grey clouds passed by. The moon illuminated the glade, reflected in Alastor’s dark eyes with yellow glint. He felt better. The pleasant smell of conifer and wet dirt was everything he paid his attention to now. His mind was empty, he let only his body to feel.

Alastor sighed and slightly closed the window, he wanted the bedroom to stay aired, moreover he always slept better with an opened window, listening to the sounds of nature lulling him. He closed his eyes, the sleep caught him fast and tightly right away.

Alastor found himself in a small cabin that wasn't his. Somehow he knew he was closed and didn't have a key. Another trap?. Through two square windows flowed down the pale light, but it didn't illuminate the room, to the contrary it seemed too dark indoors, as if the windows soaked the light in, out from the cabin into the forest. Nonsense.

He looked around, but there was absolutely nothing to explore — the cabin was empty. No furniture, no lamps, no hunter trophies. Just a wooden box. Though it was vacant inside, and the light was sucking out from the place, it still felt filled with something. A quiet rustling sound, very close to the crackling from Alastor's studio, sounded out of nowhere and filled the space with itself, almost making the air palpable, sending shivers across his skin. Another oddity.

Alastor slewed around again and saw pale figures staring at him through the windows. The view made him uncomfortable, shivers ran down his spine, and teeth clenched. Immediately the vision disappeared.

What. A strange. Place.

Suddenly he understood that he must be dreaming. As soon as the realisation came to him, he heard, or felt, someone behind him. He turned his head back and saw a figure of a young woman in front of him. The shadow fell on her face in an unrealistic, only available in dreams, angle. He tilted his head, showing his curiosity, and as if she read his mind, she went closer to him smoothly, as if her feet didn't touch the ground, lowering her head and showing her bare palms to him.

Her fingertips brushed the sides of his hands, and he wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, not giving her a chance to go away. He felt how she quivered under his touch, her uneven sigh echoed too loud in the cabin. Who was she? Her wrists were so thin and fragile as if made of porcelain, and Alstor was afraid that if he squeezed them tighter, they would break. His fingers tenderly slipped down to tangle with hers, and she squeezed his warm digits. His brows knitted in a frown as he felt how cold she was. It was a dream, but he felt the coldness of her body, the scent of her hair, he felt with his bare skin on his forearms the fine texture of her clothes as she clung closer to him.

The woman evoked a strange feeling in him that both painfully squeezed his heart and made it beat in a pleasurable rush. He last felt it years ago, the memory made his grasp on her stronger. It was a desire to protect, and he last felt it to his mother.

Alastor sensed how his palms became slightly sweaty after long contact against her skin, but she didn't remove her hands, she only held tighter on him as if her well-being depended on it, but he knew, she squeezed his wrist so firmly just to not let him grab her chin and make her look up at him as she still kept her head drooped, avoiding his gaze. Her forehead touched his chest, sending vibrating waves down his spine.

He felt his heartbeat went faster, the rustling noise faded away long ago, in the silence only her sighs were heard. He could push her away, but the thought didn’t even visit his mind. Her presence was heartwarming, he felt it literally, it’d be a foolishness to refuse her and what she did to him. Pressing her hands to his chest and feeling her pulse under his fingertips felt so right. As if he found a missing piece of his own soul that he never ever thought he’d lost.

Alastor wrapped his arms around her figure and pulled her closer. She slightly gasped but soon relaxed and put her hands on his waist. He finally could warm her.

Somehow everything had changed, Alastor lay in his bed and held her in his embrace, both covered with a soft blanket, as if they never were in that cabin, never leaving their bed and each other's arms. He inhaled the scent of her hair, it was rain, earth, conifer; She smelled like the night. Her little body was close to him, not even a millimetre separated them, and he felt her heartbeat against his chest — how could you feel somebody's heartbeat in a dream? Alastor smiled, feeling her body got warmer, and pressed her even closer, as if he wanted to lock her in his rib cage. She could always stay warm wrapped in his flesh and blood.

For sure he was not letting go of her.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You woke up with a gasp, taking a deep breath in with your mouth. You felt dizzy, slightly disoriented, but extremely happy. You saw Alastor in your dream, you shared your dream with Alastor, Alastor embraced you so tightly, so lovingly, you felt Alastor so goddamn real, your self made ritual worked! You reminiscenced all the details from the night before the morning would steal it away from you. The touches, the sights, the warmth — you wanted to lock it all in your heart to relive it again and again.

Never ever had you had such a sweet dream so full of innocence and love. His hands on your lower back, his breath on your crown, his peering curious eyes on your face, his fingers intertwined with yours, his tenderness.

No, you were not ready to leave your bed and face your life again, to survive again. But the man on the other side of the bed moved, his deep sleep ended too, and he was ready to remind you where you were and who you belonged to just as he did every morning.

The phantom brush of Alastor's hand in your hair soothed you. He was real, the husband was mortal, the rest didn't matter.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

[birdsofthefictionalworld]

Alternation of Trigun Plant Generations

So, not a bird post, but they have feathers so it counts, right? Right?? *sweats*

I was recently introduced to Trigun, and am absolutely fascinated by the reproduction cycle of Plants. Its time to, once again, put my degree to good use. Here goes nothing:

So at first glance it seems pretty damn fantastical. The main character(and main villian) are the, presumably asexual, reproductive products of a creature with significant physiological differences from them. This is strange for asexual reproduction, as such a thing usually results in a sort of “clone” of the parent. Or does it?

Enter, the life cycle of a fern.

The diagram is a little confusing, but the main point is that the diploid fern(top) asexually reproduces to create the haploid fern(bottom), which looks very little like its parent. The haploid fern can then sexually reproduce to create a another diploid fern, and the cycle goes round and round. Sound familiar? Don’t worry, I’m about to explain it in excrutiating detail. I even made a diagram!

So similar to the fern life cycle. In Trigun, the Dependent Plant can asexually reproduce to create an Independent Plant.

First, up at the top of the diagram, the Independent Plant reaches a state of sporing.

This happens very rarely, as there are only two instances of it occurring on SEEDS ships, and no instances on Gunsmoke/Nomansland. It does seem to, however, become more common on earth, as more Independent Plants arrive at the very end of the manga. I would theorize that this has to do with an incredibly extended lifespan leading to a very late onset of sexual maturity, but that is a theory for another day.

Second, moving down and to the right on the diagram, the Dependent creates spores. These take the form of humanoid infants.

Now, this part of the diagram assumes that the known Independent Plants (ie Vash/Knives and Tesla) are actually male and female(and aren’t functionally sexless like Dependents), which is how they could theoretically reproduce sexually. This is where things diverge from general fern life cycles, as the two sexes are in separate entities not combined into one plant. Therefore, when the Dependent Plant spores, it would create either X(female) or Y(male) Plants originating from one half or the other of its own XY genes. This does align with fern reproduction somewhat, as Haploid plants are created from only one half of a copy of the Diploid plant’s genes. In ferns, both sides of the genes have both male and female characteristics, but for Plants it seems to be split, creating Independents with separate sexes.

Third in the diagram, moving to the bottom. The spores grow into recognizable Independent Plants, with far more humanoid forms than Dependents. These guys would then, at sexual maturity be able to sexually reproduce to create a Dependant Plant zygote(fancy word for baby), which would then grown into a fully formed Dependent Plant. And thus, the cycle continues.

Obviously, we do not directly see this in Trigun, as for the majority of the story, there are only two(presumably male) Independent plants. This cycles has clearly not been documented in the era of the SEEDS ships, so the initial method of plant reproduction was likely simple cloning with some genetic engineering involved. But it is more than possible that natural Plant reproduction was determined on earth, which would be why we see more independents showing up with the earth ships at the end of the manga.

Additional Notes:

Returning to something I mentioned earlier on, dependent plant sporing was not occurring on Gunsmoke/Nomansland. I would guess that this is due to the levels of stress placed on the Dependents by the human populations relying on them. Had the humans been able to reduce the strain on their Plants, they may have been able to produce Independents, therefore allowing for the creation of more dependents, further reducing the strain on existing dependents. But that is just my pet theory.

I have additional theories on the mechanisms behind Dependent Plants resource production, and what an ideal environment of multiple plants living freely might look like, but that is for another post.

Thank you for reading! I honestly don't know if I will do any more non-bird metas, but if you liked this, you can always look at #bfw(my general works tag). As always, my ask box is open to suggestions for bird stuff for me to check out!

[isaacthedruid]

assigning the characters from 9-1-1 my tattoos—

buck: the sexy little strawberry in cowboy boots on my bicep aka the only tattoo that’s usually not visible. it’s a tattoo just for him, it’s inspired by drag queens and queer culture and it’s also just a little fun and silly. he definitely got it a little while after coming out as bisexual. this was a very cathartic tattoo for buck, he definitely had got it with eddie at the appointment with him.

eddie: the word “human” tattoo above the crease of my elbow. this tattoo has a lot of personal meaning I won’t go into but for eddie, I could see it have a very strong meaning too. no matter the fuck ups, no matter the jobs, he’s human. he’s just human and that’s more than enough. frank was very supportive of the tattoo after he showed up with in one session.

chim: the eyeball in a candy wrapper aka “eye candy” just below crease of my elbow. it’s absolutely a pun and a silly tattoo for him.

maddie: the stages of growth of a pumpkin (from seed to sprout to full grown pumpkin) on the back of my arm. for her, to would be able her growth as a wife, an ex-wife, a mother, and a remarried woman, and mostly importantly, her growth as herself.

hen: the fern tattoo on my side of my hand and up onto my thumb (though I could also give it to buck since oliver has a very similar tattoo on his arm) now, there isn’t much meaning in this tattoo for myself personally but for hen, it’s her reminder and connection to the world. that no matter how bad or scary a job gets and it feels like the calamity is all she can focus on. she is still carrying that bit of nature and the real world with her.

bobby: the three eyes on my upper arm, to bobby it would represent the three kids in his life; may, harry and buck. and in the third eye, there are three pupils to represent his two lost children and his passed wife. this was an emotional tattoo for bobby to get, and he cried explaining it to buck who went with him for emotional support to his tattoo appointment.

athena: the ferns, mushrooms and buttercups on my forearm. now to me this tattoo represents my childhood and now adulthood through the plants from my favourite video games in both stages of my life. i could see athena assigns different plants to the stages of her life like pre-motherhood, motherhood and even to bobby and michael and even emmett.

(the only other tattoo i have that i can’t think to assign a character to is the tooth tattoo on my upper arm. there’s no real meaning to it but i love it so much yknow.)