#gra ta ta ta ta ta

[chqnified]

Job interview is going to be fine because not shy not me, I'm fearless

[rabarbarzcukrem]

Ok oficjalnie cofam całą krytykę i obawy które miałam na temat Chłopów. Arcydzieło.

[spaciebabie]

katherine quin watched this video when she was like 9 years old and went inta full blown hysterics was straight up inconsolable b/c she thought this man was her dad that had gone out grocery shopping an hour prior and that she wouldn't see him again till she was old then lukas just comes thru the front door like, "hey gang!"

[bisexualgoth]

me, a polish fan of pathologic, seeing a polish person being a fan of pathologic

[automatonknight]

był update w tee ef????

[lwieserce]

SKURWYSYNY

[flash-from-the-past]

Egipskie przygody kota Mau

[nutakugames]

Happy Mardi Gras. Laissez les bons temps rouler!

[radio-sepia]

o cie panie polski tumblrze czy pamiętacie ogień i wodę

[monvante]

persona non grata ╱ myg, 𝟏.

per·​so·​na non gra·​ta: unwelcome or unwanted. not popular or accepted by others.

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: suspense / noir / detective au

rating: mature | 18+

chapter word count: 3,067

content warings: crime, blackmail, missing person investigation, themes of violence and murder, 90's cult references, corrupt cops, mentions of physical fighting, cockroaches, depictions of dementia, substance abuse & addiction, reader is grieving a breakup;

next chapter | series navigation | masterlist

chapter i. goodbye, kanan.

Tuesday night, March 18th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Your hands don’t feel clean. They just never do. 

“It’s that same nightmare,” you rub them together, finding comfort in the heat.

Yoongi looks at you. He says nothing, because of course he doesn't. He already noticed the dark circles under your eyes this morning, how you looked at your cup of coffee with a bit more disgust than usual.

He admired your hatred, your devotion to your spiteful heart.

“Cockroaches.” Your sad chuckle is but self-mockery. Your gaze is crestfallen.

He’s left to calculate within the machinations of his mind whatever meaning there is in your nightmare. 

Yet, Yoongi finds none whatsoever.

“Have you eaten?” 

“Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugs. “Take tomorrow off,” Yoongi hides his hands inside the pockets of his trench coat. His concern is disguised in his eyes, looking out the foggy windows of the department office. “You need it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Let it go.”

“He was eight years old! He was a child!”

The air tightens in your lungs and your throat thickens with silence. You didn’t mean to sound so exasperated, you didn’t mean to sound like anything, but you’ll have to be the first to face your emotional ties to the cold case of a young boy whose face is ingrained in the back of your mind.

Yoongi gulps ⎯  it’s the first thing he does when the truth’s engulfed in his stomach. You glare at him, but he doesn’t budge. Not for a few seconds at least, taking a few steps back as he still refuses to look you in the eye. All cops are cowards.

“You wanna know why we got this case?”

Your brows perk. 

“It’s not because we’re good,” he scoffs. “Last year... I confronted McKinnon about the money. He called me a snitch… I didn’t- I didn’t tell him you were in on it, but I figured he knew. That bastard just.. kept looking at me with those filthy eyes and I- I hit him, okay? I got him good. He deserved it.”

“Is that why you kept avoiding me all those months?”

“Kind of. He said we wouldn’t come out of it alive if the ACU so much as dreamt of it… So I kept quiet. He gave us a case full of dead ends and shit evidence to keep us busy… Said we deserved it.”

The Anti Corruption Unit had been onto the agents’ tail that month. Not that it matters. Nothing was found.

“Why– why didn’t you tell me?”

He runs a hand through his hair, slowing down his breath. In the same second, he fails himself and his fury comes out in full force.

“Fuck’s sake! And risk you being dead? Or worse?!” 

There are drops of sweat down his temple. You can see them because the yellow street lights glisten against his skin and you figure he’s telling you the truth. Even if he wasn’t, you’d be inclined to believe him. 

No one else in this godforsaken unit has a commitment to the truth like Yoongi. 

Thursday morning, March 20th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Agent Gerwig gives you a warm, tight-lipped smile when you pass her down the hallways. You hurry past the agents down the coffee machine, avoiding small talk and nearly tripping down the stairs on your way to Yoongi’s desk. 

The insides of your stomach are twisting and turning as you rush inside, uninvited and breathless, waiting for him to acknowledge you behind his incessant typing and the meaningless emails he reads everyday. 

Yoongi seems as still and lifeless as ever, which somehow comes as a comfort to you. 

“Days off are supposed to make you look better, not worse. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He types as fast as he comes up with witty remarks. 

“That’s because I have!” You spit back, fists closed tightly around the newspaper in your hands.

He quirks up one brow, enough for you to know you’ve got his attention.

“Here,” you toss it onto his desk. “Read it.”

November 27th, 1991. Solved case: Thanksgiving kidnappings linked to man apprehended by police.

“That’s Adam Bowen. He got arrested a night after Kanan went missing,” you huff, catching your breath. “They never considered him a suspect because… the timelines didn’t add up, apparently.” 

Yoongi looks up at you from the large frame of his glasses.

“And?”

“Police always suspected he worked with his brother… but they never found enough evidence to prove it. They never even found said brother, the guy disappeared out of thin air and Bowen never told them anything. Not a word.”

He leans back, stretching his arms. His gaze diverts away from you or the paper altogether and he’s staring into space, seemingly at a loss for words.

“They got one brother, huh? Looks like it was enough for them to settle it,” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Sloppy as all hell.”

In your heart, there’s some feeble hope, but most of it has been filled with despair and a fierce jealousy towards anyone who still maintained a sense of normalcy. Your last seven years have been haunted by nightmares, tainted by the faces of all the missing person reports hanging on your walls.

“We got a second half of the story to figure out.”

Yoongi nods. He closes off his laptop and puts his hands around his gun belt.

Friday night, March 21th @ Agent ___’s home.

Circe’s orange tail swirls around your leg before she’s meowing next to her empty bowl, with cute and threatening eyes glaring into your soul. You can barely catch your breath on the couch ⎯  you got shit to do. 

Her paws trail happily after you once you’re pouring the pack of Whiskas onto her tiny plate, making a mental note to throw nearly all the home decor away before Easter comes. The apartment is filled with portraits, vases and candles Yuri generously left you with. 

Such courtesy of your ex-fiancée to have abandoned all your memories and stories behind. 

You’re running out of coffee, hope and sugar.

Yuri was not a bad man. It’s what you told yourself, once. He wanted the kids and the white picket fence life, away from violent gangs and city lights, where he’d craft the perfect nuclear family, worthy of homemade apple pies and Sunday barbecues.

But you liked the urban loneliness, your shoebox apartment and the green subway lights on your way back home. You liked the comfort of knowing every neighborhood like the palm of your hand, the ins and outs of every highway and the thought of heartless strangers passing you by, not caring for your name.

You missed him. His warm body pressed against yours and his golden, brown skin; you missed him selfishly ⎯  your comfort zone walked away and resentment grew alongside the fondness. 

You hoped he was happy without you, but not too much.

When your co-workers asked you about him, a few days after he packed his bags, all you gave them was a shrug and a poor explanation, the kind that everyone does: we were incompatible, it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t ready. The list went on and on.

The only one to not probe was good old loyal Yoongi. He was indifferent enough to other people’s personal lives not to ask. When you told him, he patted you on the shoulder awkwardly and placed your coffee by your desk with extra whipped cream. 

Saturday afternoon, March 22nd @ Rosefell Nursing Home.

Violet Bowen was not, by any means, what you’d call a reliable witness. She seemed pale beyond human comprehension and her words mostly consisted of hummings or muttering. The moment you saw her, you felt a sting of empathy too strong to ask her of her missing, possibly outlaw brother.

She had no other relatives nor close visitors, except for a caring ex-neighbor who’d bring her flowers every Friday. With nails painted a deep shade of red, she looked to be around eighty, but you couldn’t quite tell. Violet was in poor condition, plagued by dementia and the loneliness of lost loved ones. 

Her caretaker is a vibrant, blonde nurse. A blonde Southern belle whose name tag read in big, uppercase letters.

CAROLYN R. NURSING ASSISTANT

It’s Yoongi who interrogates Violet, remaining unaffected by her lost gaze and brown eyes. He flashes her a picture of her brothers back in the 80’s, sporting what looks to be fluffy mullets. 

She smiles then and her shaky hands point at Adam, but nothing else comes out of her aside from a gleam of life in her eyes. Even if she knew where they were, she wouldn’t tell them a word. 

Carolyn’s smile grows disconcerted. Her hands lay on Violet’s forearm as she pulls a thick chunk of her blonde hair out of her face in typical Southern charm. 

“I think my girl’s had enough here, yes?” She forces a grin, glancing over at Violet. “If you’ll excuse us, it’s tea time.” 

Carolyn helps Violet out of her seat and into the cafeteria. You’re not sure if it’s bad timing or a deliberate attempt from the nursing assistant to end this conversation, but you’re leaning on the latter. Off they go, taking slow, mindful steps away from both of you.

You refuse to look at Violet’s way. Something about her made you want to cry your heart out; the thought of loneliness being an imminent threat to you, too. 

“It’s pointless, Yoongi,” you mutter in your seat, slouching your shoulders. “She’s not going to remember anything.”

He hates to agree. Yoongi tsks, fiddling with his watch.

“Did you check her records at the reception?” He glances over at you, mind brimming with some sort of nefarious idea.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean- I didn’t check if she had any funds… It looks like all her properties and money were confiscated by the government, but I should run a background check on her bank accounts, to be sure.”

Monday afternoon, March 24th @ Tech Unit, Information Management Division.

Jenny’s doodles lie by her desk, making the room feel like a high school classroom. You haven’t spoken to her since December; what was once a blossoming friendship wilted away thanks to your cowardice and the desire to protect her from Deputy McKinnon’s claws. If Jenny found out, she’d jump the gun. 

And she didn’t have the best aim.

Her Naruto sketches have improved greatly since you last saw them, a massive improvement for just a couple months. Both of you used to laugh at her poorly drawn stick figures, now it looks like she’s ready to take her comics career seriously. You’re happy for her ⎯  she’ll find a way out of this hellhole.

The air is thick and humid in the early Spring, but filled with an extra layer of awkwardness when she sees you from across the room. Jenny’s strides towards her desk are heavy with grief and resentment, but she holds her gaze your way.

“Have you had enough space from me after not picking up my calls?” She slides onto her chair, scribbling a few notes onto her monthly planner. “Long time no see, idiot.”

You don’t have much to say for yourself, even when your chest pangs with her affectionate, yet sarcastic use of the word idiot. 

“A lot happened, is all,” you gesture sheepishly, hands reaching for the insides of your pockets.

“I can imagine.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny… I didn’t mean to-” 

She looks up at you, eyes drenched with irony and something.. something which you can’t name. If it’s hatred or love, you can’t tell.

“Wat’cha want?”

You swallow dry and uneasy, unfolding the paper on your hand with Violet Bowen’s name and address. It’s crumpled and a little thorn ⎯  you were ready to throw it away seconds before coming into the Tech Unit.

“I- I need a background check on someone,” you mutter, lowly. “Bank account activity… Credit cards… Anything you can find from the last… thirty years, maybe?” 

Your attempt at a chuckle fails, denouncing your regret. Jenny notices the furrow of your brows and how concerned you seem, ripping the paper away from your hands. 

“Sure.” 

The seconds fill with silence. You stand by her desk, waiting for a snide comment, a spiteful joke, anything. She looks at you like she knows you want to apologize again.

“Nice sketches!” You smile as a desperate invitation to make friendly conversation. 

Jenny doesn’t cave in.

“You’re dismissed,” she nods at the doorway and hops onto her laptop. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

Monday night, March 24th @ Agent ____’s home.

“Hey,” you mutter over the phone. “Just checking up on you and mom.”

“Finally!” Albeit sarcastic, your younger sister’s voice is nothing but chirpy, as it has always been. “We miss you, you idiot. You know that, right?”

Over the phone, you can hear your mom’s laugh and a few unintelligible words. It seems she’s adjusting to your dad’s absence. Somehow, you had stopped calling after the funeral. It’s not that you didn’t miss them back ⎯  you were sick of being flooded with memories every time you’d hear her voice. Like your dad was still there too, right beside her.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. I’ve just been busy.” The explanations and apologies roll off your tongue.

“You know you can’t avoid us forever, right?” Her voice is so sober, it’s as if she’s older than you by a million years. 

When you gaze out the window, loneliness overcomes you. The years spent playing hide and seek in your childhood home are long gone, replaced by miles of distance between you and your family ⎯  how you became so caring and so bad at expressing it like your father. You hate how much of you is made of all the people you love. And miss.

“You there?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m sorry.” 

“I swear to God, you gotta stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This.” She pauses. “Acting like we don’t exist. Seriously. We miss you.”

A pang of guilt flashes through your chest. 

“I know.” Your voice is small through the phone again. In between the anxiety and the seconds, you fiddle with your bracelet. “I’m sorry.. It’s been hell.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell mom about your breakup, but she keeps asking me. It wouldn’t hurt if you opened up for once.” She sounds more hurt than angry, vindicating your mother after all the months you spent avoiding calls and texts under the pretense of your busy adult job.

Even in the softness of her voice, her words feel harsh. You gulp down a threatening tear, staying silent on the phone. She was still right, though.

“Listen, we love you, okay? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re going through because you won’t tell me everything.. but dude, please, seriously just come visit us sometime. I know you’ve got your job and all, but act human for once. Please?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. I promise.”

“Good. I gotta go now. Mom wants to go grocery shopping for some french-whatever-pie and I promised her I’d help. Give Circe my love!”

You chuckle, sadly.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you guys soon.”

When the call ends, silence deepens. It’s your own doing, you know, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating. Even when you crave solitude, you’re just plagued by loneliness. 

Wednesday morning, March 26th @ Java café.

Today, Yoongi thinks you look a little better. And by better, it means rested. Of course, your gaze is still very much zombie-like, with glimpses of terror in your eyes when you look away. 

But in this line of work, it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine.

It’s never rainbows and sunshine, he realizes.

“So,” you sigh.

“So.” Yoongi punctuates, giving you room to breathe.

Your eyes are distant, watching children play in the puddles from last night’s rainstorm. The weather has been cruel to this city, punishing sinners and saints alike with a dreadful fog in the mornings and plenty of humidity to drive your hair follicles to the brink of insanity.

“Bowen’s alive, Yoongi. There’s a big chance he just… got away with it.”

Your words aren’t met with so much enthusiasm. You suppose it’s the skepticism in this field ⎯ even the good news don’t feel like good news. Before his questioning and theorizing begins, Yoongi brings up a valid concern.

“Why didn’t his brother spill his whereabouts, though? It’s not like Adam had any reasons to protect his brother any longer.”

“Unless he did.” You counter-argue.

“Why, though? It doesn’t make sense. In ninety percent of the cases, you know what happens. So-called partners in crime turn against each other. It’s good ol’ politics.” Yoongi leans back in his chair, nodding at the waitress for more coffee.

“Maybe he had something to lose,” you purse your lips. The biting of your inner cheeks is such an instinctive habit of yours that it barely stings until you realize how much tension you’re holding in. “Or someone, you know?”

“Several someones.” Yoongi blinks. “Do you remember the Mormon Heritage cult?” His eyes narrow as he scrapes the top of his head.

Your back and forth is interrupted by the local waitress pouring hot black coffee onto Yoongi’s cup. He seems like he’s on a roll today ⎯  it’s his third cup. That you know of.

“Uhhh, kind of. They were a thing in the nineties, weren’t they?” 

“Yeah.. well… the Satanic panic might’ve contributed to that,” Yoongi nods, slipping his mobile out of his pocket. His fingers are hasty, typing up a Google search so he can word vomit every single fact possible. “But we know that the Jesus believers can somehow always be worse.”

He sounds so snarky, it earns a laugh out of you.

“The Bowens were around that time,” he says. “I mean ⎯  the connection seems unlikely, but with these people, you never know.”

You sigh. 

“McKinnon didn’t give us this case for nothing, huh?” Even with half a smile on your face, you can’t help but feel defeated.

“Cheer up, buttercup. I think we got a lead.” He smiles with his teeth for once in a lifetime, raising his eyes from his phone to meet yours. You know he is up to no good ⎯ and that can only be a good thing.

“Buttercup?”

monvante © 2021 - 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, edit or redistribute my work.

[evahousewife]

Me en can tas, no hay mas

Gra cías 😘

[regulum-plays]

Going live!

A very short visual novel that reminds you about reading trigger warnings.

It’s a game that you can play in bowser and it’s completly free (well, like most of games I play…).

You only have one male love intrest, but what an amazing man he is! Zilas, aspiring idol, streamer and most importantly – your boyfriend. He will do everything in his power to make sure you both get a happy ending together.

The game is fully voiced with even narrator having it’s own voice, but if you want you can turn off every voice in this game.

We don’t see how MC looks like and you can chooose your name and pronouns (you also get to choose your usernames!).

Unfortunetly there is no skip or save option, but the game is so short that it isn’t a big issue (it also let’s you to listen to this amazing voice acting).

The game has two ending and one special scene/ending scene that you get after seeing all endings. There are plans to make more (even game suggest it) but it entirely depends on how this game will be recieved. Another reason to recommend this game to You. 😉

As I said in the beggining – before you play, read the trigger warnings, it’s really importnat if there are stuff you are sensitive to/you are not sure how much you can handle.

Zilas will make you feel the butterflies, but right after you will cry.

---

Bardzo krótka powieść wizualna (bardzo podobna mi się to tłumaczenie), która przypomni ci o dokładnym czytaniu ostrzeżeń.

Jest to gra, w którą można grać w przeglądarce i jest całkowicie za darmo (cóż, jak większość gier, w które gram…).

W grze jest tylko jeden wybranek serca płci męskiej, ale cóż za niesamowity mężczyzna z niego jest! Zilas, aspirujący celebryta, streamer, a co najważniejsze – Twój chłopak. Zrobi wszystko co w jego mocy abyście dostali wasze wspólne dobre zakończenie.

W grze każda postać dostała swojego aktora głosowego, nawet narrator, ale każdy z tych głosów można bezproblemowo wyłączyć w ustawieniach.

Nie widzimy jak wygląda protagoniszcze i możemy wybrać własne imię oraz zaimki (wybieramy także nasze własne nazwy użytnikownika!).

Niestety gra nie posiada żadnego przycisku pominięcia czy zapisu, ale na całe szczęście jest na tyle krótka, że nie nie jest to dużym problemem (pozwala to też na posłuchanie niesmowitych aktorów głosowych).

Gra posiada dwa zakończenia oraz jedną specjalną scenę/zakończenie, które otrzymujesz po zobaczeniu dwóch pozostałych zakończeń. Są również plany na zrobienie większej ilości zakończeń (nawet sama gra to sugeruje) jednak to całkowicie zależy od tego jak ta gra się przyjmie. Kolejny powód, żeby polecić tę grę wam. 😉

Tak jak powiedziałom na początku – zanim zaczniesz grać przeczytaj dokładnie ostrzeżenie, to bardzo ważne jeżeli są jakieś tematy, na które jesteś szczególnie wrażliwe/tematy, na które nie będziesz w stanie patrzeć.

Zilas sprawi, że poczujesz motylki w brzuchu, ale zaraz potem będziesz płakać.

[pozartaa]

02.09.24 UTRZYMANIE WAG1 dzień 550. Limit +/- 2100 kca1.

Wybrane posiłki:

Nie liczę kalorii od : 56 dni

Kochani, zamknięcie miesiąca przebiegło dość sprawnie. Nogi mi w dupsko weszły. Od północy do piątej rano natuptałam 8K kroków. Mówiłam, że się nachodzę. Cieszę się, że to już za mną! Teraz dwa dni wolne do pracy dopiero we środę.

***

Dziś na kolację wczorajszy lunch - czyli niezbyt fajne kalorycznie frankfurterki, ale na szczęście już więcej nie ma - zjedzone i zapomniane 😝. Kolację zjem oczywiście jak wrócę z kart.

Godzinę zajmuje pokoszulkowanie decku. A idę na 17:00 pewnie wrócę koło 21:00 (dlatego dziś post wcześniej)

Ostatni dodatek jest o zwierzątkach. Niektóre karty to małe dzieła sztuki 🤩. Format Commander to 100 pojedynczych kart. No i gra for fun - o tak - u kolegi w domu.

Ale jeśli pójdę jutro grać do naszego sklepiku z grami, będę grała w formacie Standard - 60 katy mogą być po 4 kopie każdej i to jest bardziej competitive - gramy o nagrody.

***

Powiem wam szczerze choć tęsknię za moim "małżem" - jest w jakiś sposób nawet fajnie samej. Może racja, że czas spędzony w samotności jest w sumie czasem tylko dla mnie. A taki czas trzeba doceniać.

Mam ochotę wypucować całe mieszkanie od sufitu po fugi między płytkami na podłodze.. mam na to miesiąc. Dziś zresztą też sprzątałam ale tylko tak troszkę żeby się o kocie kłaki nie potykać.

Wszędzie w moim domu jest pełno "perzydasiów" ostatecznie te "przydasie" nigdy się nie przydają. Przeczytałam kiedyś ta książkę "Magia Sprzątania" pani Kondo. Ok... Lubię czysto, ale ta baba to świruska.

Dobrej nocy wam życzę!

[saturniasxenos]

Nature / Flora ID Pack

Inside this pack, you will find: Pronouns, Titles, Names, and Genders that relate to Nature, Flora, Flowers, Trees, and anything alike!

This is my 3rd NPT pack! 💜 I hope you find what you are looking for. I try to add as MUCH content as possible, so even if you don't find it, you can have an idea! (I'm still not the best at titles...)

🍀 Pronouns:

Flo/Florae/Flora/Floras/Floraself

Flo/Flora/Floral/Florals/Floralself

Flo/Flow/Flower/Flowers/Flowerself

Le/Lea/Leaf/Leafs/Leafself

Tre/Tree/Trees/Trees/Treeself

Wo/Woo/Wood/Woods/Woodself

For/Fores/Forest/Forests/Forestself

Na/Natu/Nature/Natures/Natureself

Clo/Clove/Clover/Clovers/Cloverself

Pla/Plan/Plant/Plants/Plantself

Bi/Bio/Bios/Bios/Bioself

Mo/Moss/Mossy/Mosses/Mossself

Gra/Grass/Grassy/Grasses/Grassself

Ec/Eco/Ecos/Ecos/Ecoself

Fun/Fung/Fungi/Fungus/Fungiself

Mush/Mushro/Mushroom/Mushrooms/Mushroomself

Al/Alga/Algae/Algaes/Algaeself

Ea/Ear/Earth/Earths/Earthself

Ju/Jung/Jungle/Jungles/Jungleself

Pi/Pin/Pine/Pines/Pineself

Ta/Tai/Taiga/Taigas/Taigaself

So/Soi/Soil/Soils/Soilself

Gre/Gree/Green/Greens/Greenself

Dru/Drui/Druid/Druids/Druidself

Fai/Fair/Fairy/Fairys/Fairyself

Ge/Geo/Geos/Geos/Geoself

Ro/Rock/Rocks/Rocks/Rockself

Spri/Sprin/Spring/Springs/Springself

Su/Sum/Summer/Summers/Summerself

Tro/Trop/Tropical/Tropics/Tropicalself

Wi/Wil/Wild/Wilds/Wildself

Wil/Wilde/Wilderness/Wilderness/Wildernessself

Gar/Gard/Garden/Gardens/Gardenself

Bir/Birc/Birch/Birchs/Birchself

Oa/Oak/Oaks/Oaks/Oakself

Spru/Spruc/Spruce/Spruces/Spruceself

Oa/Oas/Oasis/Oasis/Oasisself

Ri/Riv/River/Rivers/Riverself

La/Lak/Lake/Lakes/Lakeself

Ra/Rai/Rain/Rains/Rainself

Wi/Wint/Winter/Winters/Winterself

Fro/Fros/Frost/Frosts/Frostself

Fa/Fall/Falls/Falls/Fallself

Au/Autu/Autumn/Autumns/Autumnself

🌲/🌲's

🍀/🍀's

🌸/🌸's

🌿/🌿's

🌱/🌱's

🌳/🌳's

🌵/🌵's

🍃/🍃's

🌻/🌻's

🌹/🌹's

🌧/🌧's

☀/☀'s

❄/❄'s

💨/💨's

💧/💧's

🌸 Titles:

Preserver of The Forest

(X) Who Nurtures

Born From The Forest

Guardian of The Forest

Dancer of The Desert

(X) Who Guards The Oasis

Child of The Trees

Floral Founder

Seeker of The Leaves

(X) Who Dances With The Petals

Druid of The Land

Wings of The Forest

Nurturing The Land

Nurturer of The Forest

Nature's Guardian

Child of Mother Nature

Guardian of Mother Nature

Raindrop on The Leaf

Dancing in The Wind

Guardian of The Crops

Child of The Nymph

The Water Dancer

The River Traveler

🍃 Names:

Fem: Azalea, Aurora, Aster, Bellatrix, Belladonna, Blossom, Coral, Calla, Camellia, Dahlia, Daisy, Dawn, Dove, Dandelion, Ember, Flora, Floria, Giselle, Heather, Holly, Ivy, Jade, Juliet, Jasmine, Luna, Lunar, Lotus, Lily, Lilac, Lavender, Magnolia, Marigold, Meadow, Moon, Maple, Nova, Opal, Petunia, Poppy, Plum, Primrose, Paisley, Rosamund, Rose, Rosa, Rainy, Raine, Stella, Summer, Thea, Violet, Verna, Vine, Willow, Zinna,

Masc: Acacius, August, Arthur, Acorn, Arno, Aire, Beckett, Bear, Birch, Cedar, Cliff, Clay, Corvus, Clayton, Cove, Canyon, Callum, Caspian, Dune, Dylan, Elwood, Finn, Fielder, Falcon, Fox, Forest, Florian, Flint, Griffin, Hunter, Jasper, Jonah, Kai, Leo, Luan, Lennox, Micah, Oliver, Quill, Oscar, Orson, Roscoe, Rainier, Rhodes, Reed, Ronan, Rowan, Spruce, Sol, Thorne, Thorn, Wilder, Winter, Weston,

Neu: Arbor, Ashton, Ash, Agate, Autumn, Aspen, Bay, Berry, Barley, Brae, Bryony, Basil, Brooks, Bourne, Cereus, Clover, Crow, Cypress, Chamomile, Everest, Eden, Fawn, Farley, Finley, Frost, Fern, Foxley, Hazel, Harper, Hyacinth, Iris, Juniper, Jay, Jett, Koa, Krow, Lake, Leaf, Lynx, Oakley, Nightshade, Onyx, Orion, Olive, Pike, Pepper, Prairie, Phoenix, Robin, River, Raven, Rye, Scout, Sage, Stone, Sable, Snowden, Storm, Thistle, Wolf, Wolfe, Wulfwynn, Wren, Zen, Zev, Zephyr,

🌲 Genders:

Natureserenic - a gender related to spending your days in the middle of nowhere inside your cottage overgrown with nature, cats, dogs, and peacefulness.

Rotgrowth - A gender that has a deep connection to the idea of new plant life growing out of dead, rotting, decaying bodies such as animals and humans.

Vancouldian - a gender related to tall evergreen trees blowing in the wind against a cloudy sky

Regenderation - A gender connected to all things related to regeneration and growth. Medicine, nature, the life aspect, shades of pinks and greens, etc.

Mouanipre - a gender connected to baby animals, daisies, wildflowers, flower crowns, soft grass, meadows, fawns, bunnies, lambs, soft fur, sleepy baby animals, pastel colors, and cute baby animals resting in soft meadows.

Heliangender - a gender related to, affected by, or connected to sunflowers.

Convolvulaceaeic - A gender that has a deep connection to the Convolvulaceae Family of flowers.

Naturegender - Gender relating to nature/plants

Asteraceaeica - gender that has a deep connection to the Asteraceae Family of flowers.

[babymockers]

And, finally, here’s part 2.

"I can’t see what you see in me"

Graham Coxon x female reader.

Prompt: Graham was having a really hard time with himself during a photoshoot and you had a great idea to cheer him up. Heavily inspired by Blair and Serena stealing Eleanor Waldorf's clothing line clothes on Gossip Girl (s1, e4).

Place/time: during the late 90's.

Reader description: reader is a French model trying to make herself a name in the industry, while being reduced to be in her boyfriend's shadow.

Fluff.

Part 1 here

Part 2.

You looked back at Damon and Alex. "I know you won't believe me, Graham, but you'd look so good in one of those suits."

"Y/N, you've got to be joking. They told me not to....

"Uh-uh. You'd look great". The look on disbelief on his face made you stand up, a sudden urge of something you didn't exactly knew made it's way through your mind. You offered him your hand "Come with me, come on". He looked at you hesitantly. "Come on!"

He took your hand and followed you. "Where are we going?" You didn't muttered a word. He panicked. "I can't leave them here. They need me-"

"We're not leaving them. Just trust me. I'm taking care of you right now'. You said.

You walked together through the photoshoot set, passing by numerous photographers, make-up artists, among other workers, until you reached the door of a sort of dressing room, where a variety of suits, shoes, shirts and hats were placed on hangers. At the top of the door, a small sign read: "Blur 1930's England Inspired Photoshoot. Authorized personal only". You turned the handle, mentally praying that the door was open. Luck was on your side, though, as the door opened without any struggle.

You entered the room, Graham right behind you, and you quickly began to inspect the clothes, looking carefully at the sizes. Some of them were even marked with Graham's name. But you ignored them. You went for the expensive ones, the ones designed to be worn only by models.

Real models.

Graham shouted-whispered "What are you doing?W-We're not even supposed to be here, Y/N!"

"Oh but that makes it more exciting, doesn't it?" You said, picking up a few clothes. "I don't see why we shouldn't be here, though. This is a 'Blur' photoshoot".

"Well it is. But we're only allowed to be here when we're needed. I can't put any of this on until Damon and Alex are finished".

"So we're not even stealing. We're just anticipating ourselves".

He looked at you in disbelief "You're insane!".

"And you're too cute to be true". You kissed his nose. "Come on, let's get some clothes for you." He shook his head, unsure. "Gra, trust me. It'll be alright. Do you trust me, baby?" You knew he would melt at the 'baby' thing. Graham loved nicknames.

He muttered something you didn't understand but he was still there anyway, so you thought he wasn't really that mad.

"Ok, ok". You said, placing all the pieces of clothing together in front of Graham. "Ta-da! There you have it, you'll look amazing in this".

He scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know. I shouldn't be wearing any of this by now. I'll probably look bad".

"Honey, you're gorgeous, relax. Besides, if anything happens I'll take the blame here and there.

"I can't let you do that!". He said, frowning.

"Of course you can. You need to have fun. Worry less and look at this hat, isn't it pretty?" You placed the hat on his head, in an unintentionally rough way, making him chuckle. "And it fits your head so well!"

"Love...".

"Just put this on. You know you want to".

"Love, I just don't really know if I should..." He took the clothes in his hands, hesitant. Then he looked at you. And, maybe for the first time in forever, he was able to see in himself a little bit of what you see in him. The way that you looked at him made him feel weak to his knees. And it also made him feel confident, adrenaline rushing through his veins and his eyes sparkling. "Oh, fuck them!".

"Fuck them". You said coming over him and kissing him passionately, his eyes now filled with lust. You detached yourself from his grip and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. "I'll go watch the door. You go change”.

Graham started to laugh, changing himself in a rush. "I don't even know why we're doing this. This is childish".

''Cause it's harmless fun. You deserve to have tun".

Graham looked at himself on the body mirror, a smile coming onto his face while he let out little giggles. He thought this was ridiculous, but, in some sort of way, he was starting to enjoy himself. So, when he was finished, he couldn't help to think that he didn't looked that bad after all.

So you reassured him, knowing exactly what was going through his mind (you've been together for 2 years for god sake!): "You look amazing. You really do. You look better than anyone else in here".

"You think so?" He asked as sincerely as he wanted your answer to be, looking at you with his big eyes, showing all parts of himself through them. The fear, the self consciousness, the crave for validation that he usually hide in drinking evenings and quiet stares. All in his eyes.

He felt comfortable being vulnerable around you. He was a vulnerable soul after all. He needed protection and trust, someone who was able to connect with him and stand by his side no matter what. And, after years of dead end streets and pointless roads, he finally found what he was looking for. Someone as confident, smart, funny, warm hearted and trustworthy as you. For him, you were like a rush of energy in lazy mornings and comfy sheets in a cold evening. He couldn't even try to deny one scary fact: he was head over heels.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him with the word "love" written all over your face. "Yeah. You kinda fit the vibe. You're so beautiful, Graham". And you meant it, you really did. Besides, you always thought Graham was like a young boy from the 1930's, so you weren't just rambling. He was a natural with his little hat, his big blazer and his cute shoes, something so romantic about his little funny outfit that made your heart filled with the most intense and loving feeling.

He was truly something else, so different from anyone you've ever met. One of a kind, really.

You both leaned and connected your lips, kissing each other with less passion than most of the times and more in an "old couple" kind of way.

Then, suddenly, Graham bit your bottom lip, deepening the kiss while leaning over your body and holding you in his arms in a very movie-like way, causing your laugh.

"Stop doing that, you idiot! I'm going to fall!" You shouted while laughing. Graham leaned even more, practically making your head almost touch the floor while your legs were up in the air.

"No, you're not, Love". He said calmly, although the smile creeping over his face was apparently impossible to erase. He was making fun of you!

He was absolutely the worst.

"Graham, I'm dead serious!" He leaned over even more (as if that's possible!). "Graham!".

He stopped there, just looking at your mortified face, grinning like an idiot.

"I swear to God, if you don't put me on my feet again I will..."

He gave you a kiss on your neck, causing butterflies to throw a party inside your stomach.

Then he gently did what you asked for, letting your feet touch the floor and helping you stand up, resting his head on yours.

He won't admit it (Graham was such a funny stubborn-ass sometimes) but he secretly wished you were a lot more shorter than him, so he could put his chin on top of your head. It's not like you were the same height as him, I mean, you still had to look up at him and all, but he couldn't do that specifically. So you would usually lower yourself or you would stand on your tippy toes to make you look even taller, depending on your mood. Right now, you went for that second option, pretending to be mad.

He knew you weren't, though. So he bit your cheek, making you laugh.

"Stupid boy" You muttered bitting your own bottom lip, repressing a wider smile.

"I love your accent". He said out of nowhere, catching you off guard.

"What was that for?". You detached yourself from his arms, looking puzzled.

"Nothing. I just really love it". He smiled, holding your waist again and his gaze intensified on your lips. "I really love you". His voice almost a whisper.

You sighed, your heart pounding in your chest "I love you too".

And even though Graham still struggled, those were the most sincere words he ever heard in his life and no one could ever convince him otherwise.

So he believed you. He had no other choice.

"See? Now you can go there and be all this pretty in front of the camera". You said, wide gummy smile plastered on your face.

He melted inside.

And, also, he completely forgot about that.

So Graham, allowing himself to be carried by the moment, said this exact words: "You know what? I don't care about this bloody photoshoot. I don't care about any of this. Let's get out of here". And he offered you a hand, the same adventurous hand you offered him before.

"What? But, you have this photo shoot..." You looked around. Then to him "You want to drop out?" You asked, looking for something in his face that would made you realize he actually didn't want to do that. But there was just Graham.

Soft-spoken Graham, staring at you with his burning gaze and rebellious smile. Asking you to be his partner in that little war he called his work and the aftermaths of leaving it.

So you had no other choice.

After all, it was still raining outside, with a storm coming any time soon. They'll probably have to cancel their plans anyway. And the crew will still get paid, just like Alex will still be an asshole the next morning and Damon will definitely be unpredictable about the situation, but that was just Damon. And then Dave... Dave couldn't care less. As long as he could get some sleep right now, he'd be fine. The manager will be furious, of course, but that was just his work. The world will still be moving and the press will be thrilled.

So there was really nothing new.

The first signs of a big storm started to make it's way through the area. Outside the wind was going stronger and the temperature was dropping colder. Graham looked at you, his body temperature was a warm contrast to the weather conditions.

He quickly took some female 1930's clothes for you that were hanging there. He looked at you.

You looked at your purse, inside it was your camera. You saw his eyes sparkling.

So, again, you really had no other choice...

How could you ever say no?

Then, suddenly, Graham was not alone anymore.

The end.