#more like foot fungus but

[greencorncube]

[myleftpinkytoe]

The last of us be like "oooooh there's no way to create treatments for a fungal pandemic"

Meanwhile the cure for yeast infections literally exists.

[techmomma]

Facts about your body after you turn 25, AKA things I wish someone had told me:

you will get hair in fun new places. this is normal and fine.

these places include (but are not limited to) if you don't already have them: your asscrack, your back, your ears, and moles. it's fine.

some of you, dick or not, will also lose hair. this is normal, but also if you have ovaries maybe get this checked out for PCOS.

your acne will probably change. some people get better. some people get worse. it's fine.

your nails will probably get an infection or a fungus at least once in your life. this is fine. (but also let your doc know).

how you gain and lose fat and where you do so will change. this is fine.

how you smell will change. this is fine. (fishy or rotten smells mean doctor time though)

if you have a prostate: it gets harder to pee. prostates enlarge as you age (get this checked regularly). this is fine.

if you do not have a prostate: it gets easier to pee but not in a good way. as in as you get older, your pelvic floor muscles tend to lose some of their strength. this makes it harder to keep pee in. this is fine.

all breasts and pectorals eventually sag, with the rest of your body. this is fine.

a decent percent of the population will experience a cyst at least once. some of you will make up for the rest with multiple. this is fine, but keep them checked out by a doctor. (sometimes this is a condition! get checked for that too!)

almost half of everyone gets hemorrhoids. it's a good idea to just expect them since your chances of getting them get higher the older you are. your toilet will look like a murder scene. definitely get your booty checked out BUT this is almost always perfectly normal. just eat more fiber. "but I already-" eat more fiber. and maybe suck it up and buy some hemorrhoid cream, you'll thank me later.

yes, this means you will probably need to make an appointment for a doctor to see your butthole. it's okay. not only do they really not care but 1. they've seen weirder that day and 2. they'd far rather you see them now than later when it's been going on for forty years and now it might be colon cancer. it's okay. consider it a rite of passage.

adults need more sleep than children. don't believe the myth that you need less than they do. that is capitalist propaganda to make you give up more of your life to the work grind, comrade.

vitamins and medicine, something you are more likely to take as you get older, sometimes make the toilet turn weird colors. it's okay.

if you still have your tonsils and get those little stones and get sore throats more than once a year you should plan on getting those suckers out before the tonsils cause an infection and go septic. if you're getting stones at all you should get those reevaluated every year, especially if the stones are bigger than a needlehead (or get bigger over time). it's gross and yucky. I don't care. get them looked at before you end up in the hospital.

you'll probably need to add foot support to your shoes if you don't already do. this is fine.

your body changes. sometimes it can feel sorta weird and upsetting that it isn't what it used to be. that is okay, and it is okay to be upset. just know that this is normal, it's normal to be upset or not upset, but don't let it hinder your quality of life. trans or cis, there is a certain level of acceptance you just gotta give your body and forgive your body for as you get older. it's okay.

it's okay. I promise.

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

I Don’t Care!: Savanaclaw

Heartslabyul - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomfiore - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

Romantic Jealousy: Based on real or imagined threats to a romantic relationship. There could be a history of infidelity or flirtations; however, this could also be solely based on insecurities. Sexual/Suspicious Jealousy: Based on fears that a partner may have cheated or be engaged in inappropriate communication.

Does he get jealous?

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is a very jealous man, he doesn't mind telling you either. But that's hard to do when they person making him jealous is Idia...

Leona had no issues with you having friends. That never bothered him. What bothered him was you hanging around the local Radish Sprout for too long.

He had finally finished up with his mandatory MagiShift practice. Being the captain, he had to oversee everyone getting out of the locker room before dismissal. A responsibility he loathed, but dismissal was necessary after every practice. The moment he finished, he shot you a short text. He wanted to see you.

Leona didn't like to come off as needy. He didn't ever want to seem clingy. But he didn't mind telling you if he was bothered by something. And for some reason he was bothered by your response. You cheerfully responded, sending a photo of yourself at a high up angle. Across from you was Idia wrapping some strange looking hard candy with a small, fanged smile.

Leona wasn't irritable and marching into the school because you were playing a board game with another Housewarden. He was angry because of Idia. The wasn't looking at the camera. He was staring at you with longing in his honey colored eyes. The tips of his hair a faded pink as he was immortalized in the photo unwrapping his candy. And that is what made Leona so mad. The longer it took him to reach the club room the angrier he started to feel.

Or was it insecurity? His steps slowed as he watched you exit the club room, waving goodbye to the remaining members with a smile. Leona's body began to untense and he exhaled through his nose. His tail flicked in irritation, but he did his best to swallow down those feelings and instead replace them with his usual confidence. "There you are." He huffed in relief seeing that you were alone, starting to circle behind you. His cheek rubbed against your head as he slipped an arm around your torso.

There was no reason to be jealous. He had nothing to worry about. He was leagues better than Idia. That's why you leaned against him and accepted his loving touches. And Radish Sprout was stuck with staring.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie Bucchi is more insecure than he is jealous. But when Jade starts getting close to you he wonders if insecurity is the same as jealousy...

Ruggie tapped his foot from underneath the table. He had picked you as his partner for a group project, of course, Grim was the plus one. But today he had been replaced due to a tuna sandwich related tummy ache. Jade Leech was in his place.

Ruggie was never the biggest fan of either of the Tweels, but something about Jade really got underneath his skin. Something he chalked up to being possessiveness over you. Meaning, Ruggie was just being insecure over nothing. His eyes lingered from the homework project, and up to you, then to Jade. The merman was talking with you about something Ruggie deemed pointless.

His gloved hands would inch close to yours as he offered a section of his mountain guide. Your project did happen to be on a type of fungus that could make your hair grow 12 inches with just a single bite. But Jade just wanted to talk. Only to you. You had leaned in to look at his guide book with a smile. Jade's expression was soft with a smile curled on his face. A faint flush to his cheeks as his fingers nearly brushed yours.

Now Ruggie was getting irritated. "Jade, who gives a fuck?" Ruggie growled with his eyebrows knit tightly. Why was this asshole even here?! The two looked up in shock, eyes meeting Ruggie's as the beastman began to sink into his chair. Jade's eyebrows raised in amusement, and you looked at the hyena in horror. "Ruggie! I'm sorry Jade he doesn't mean that." Yes he does. He did mean it. Ruggie didn't want confrontation, but he was sick of how close Jade was getting.

"Oh my, I apologize." Jade pulled away with his smile widening. His teeth now exposed as the two locked eyes. "Have I hurt the little kitty's feelings?" He chuckled, and Ruggie stopped tapping his foot. He started to replace his jealousy with anger. And his mind began to linger. "I heard eel tastes great over rice."

Jack Howl

Jack was always a stone faced individual. Jealousy is below him. Until Vil started hanging around…

Jack adored his upperclassman. Especially since they were childhood friends. Vil was someone worth his respect. There was no reason to stoop to a bottom feeder emotion like jealousy. The week and overly emotional are jealous.

So Jack couldn't process why he had this overwhelming emotion inside of him. Vil stood only a few feet from you with a script in one hand. You were doing the same. The older student had approached the both of you, specifically you. Asking if you could spare him some time. A club member had gotten extremely sick, but they were supposed to be rehearsing lines with Vil that afternoon. So, here the both of you were.

Jack had seated himself at an empty table, mostly scrolling through MagiCam while Vil borrowed you for practice. Occasionally his eyes would dart up to see Vil circling around you with a smile as he rehearsed. The scene was... Somewhat intimate. Vil was playing the role of a widow, hungry for a new, much richer lover to fill a hole in his heart. You were supposed to be playing the rich victim, oblivious to the horrors that awaited you. Of course, Vil had told you there may be a small arm touch while rehearsing, but nothing more. Jack didn't mind if you didn't.

He told himself he didn't mind if you didn't. But he was struggling to bury the urge to drag you away with a scowl. Vil's movements were so elegant. Like he was leading you in a romantic dance. Jack couldn't do that. His way with words seemed to make your eyes sparkle as you recited the lines along with him. Jack couldn't get that reaction out of you. He started to feel less angry and more anxious. MagiCam was no longer interesting, and he continued to watch the scene between you unfold.

When the club ended, Vil chirped about how happy he was to have you both around as his little helpers. "Thank you my little sweet potato! You saved me today. I'll have to give you a proper reward of some kind." He sang with his hands clasped together. This was the kindest response Vil had ever given someone. "And thank you for supervising Jack. I'm sorry if it was boring for you." Vil gently pinched the younger boys cheek, getting a grunt in response. Vil waved goodbye, and the two of you began to walk to the Hall of Mirrors.

Jack was quiet, listening to you excitedly talk about how much fun you had preforming the scene with Vil. Jack was a big fan of personal space. But he couldn't help but lace his fingers with yours for the rest of the walk.

[glamourscat]

Literally love your Tim Drake works 🙏 so good to see him get some hype!!

Can I please request Tim Drake with Gn!reader teasing him about essentially being his sugar baby? Not using him obvi, but like as a broke college student myself, I know he would simply not be able to witness our conditions without stepping in. Idk if he's ever canonically gone to a dorm, but I think explaining the concept of having to wear a "shower shoe" to avoid communal shower fungus would be enough for him to just buy you an apartment for the next 4 years 😭 or looking in the fridge only to see the takeout box, bread, and ketchup combo cause groceries are toooo expensive 😭 The "damn bitch you live like this" meme personified

Sorry this became off-topic ramble-ly lol I just think it's funny how stressed he would be by his partner's early 20's ✨ broke era✨

a/n: when I tell I saw the request and immediately my fingers started writing😭 loved this! thank you so much, I hope it’s what you were looking for <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“For the love of—babe?” Tim’s voice rang through your college dorm room.

You looked up from the bed where you were working on some assignments, meeting his eyes as he crouched near the mini-fridge under your desk.

“Yeah, hun?” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“What in the actual hell is this?” he exclaimed, holding up a few boxes of Chinese takeout and random half-open sauce packets—most definitely “borrowed” from fast food joints and restaurants alike. His face was a mix of shock and genuine concern for you.

“Ah, yeah. That was my dinner yesterday, my lunch the day before yesterday, and my breakfast… yep,” you said casually, shrugging as you went back to your work.

After all, it’s not like you’re the only one in this situation. Sure, you would have preferred to eat a proper meal, but broke students have to survive somehow, right?

“Babe… you are seriously surviving off of scraps? This can barely keep you fed, not to mention the—” he stopped as he looked over at your desk. “Now what in the hell is this?” His voice was slightly high-pitched as he stared at the shower shoes on your desk that you had forgotten to put away before he came by.

“Those? You’ve really never seen shower shoes?” you said with a hint of an amused smile. “Those are shower shoes, Tim. I use them in the communal showers since we don’t have individual ones. To avoid getting shower fungus or athlete’s foot, ya know? Stuff like that.” Your words were so calm, so… like you were used to it.

Tim stared at you with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull, genuinely trying to make his last remaining brain cells understand how this way of living was even possible on college grounds. But more importantly, how the hell were you supposed to live like this for the next four years?

“Where are you going?” you asked, confused, seeing him rush to put his jacket on.

“Put your jacket on. We are going to look at apartments right now. I think I caught something just by thinking of you living here for the next four years, malnourished and worst of all, using communal showers. What if something happened to you? Yeah, fuck that, c’mon” he said frantically, almost dragging you out of your dorm by the hand as you tried not to laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting—”

“No,” he cut you off. His expression was almost comical in how genuinely frantic he was. But, despite that, it was also cute seeing how much he cared for you.

“Tim, I know you’re concerned but, I mean—an apartment is a big thing. I—”

He stopped, turning you to face him in the empty hallway. His hands rested on your waist. “I have the money. You can’t live like this. Let me help my lover, okay? I will still do it, you know that. If not now I’ll gift you an apartment for Christmas since it’s around the corner.” His voice got lower. “Besides, we certainly can’t do anything in here, one moan from me—”

“TIM!” you said, flustered, a small embarrassed chuckle escaping your lips.

“What? It’s the truth. Everyone will be all up in our business…” he whined quietly as he got closer, his soft lips leaving a warm kiss on your neck.

“Besides—” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine, “I can’t sneak in with my Red Robin costume here. And you bet your ass I’m coming over after patrol so we can be together. Soooo, an apartment it is,” he hummed proudly, leaving another kiss, this time a soft peck on your lips. He pulled back with a soft smile that just made you want to squeeze his cheeks for how cute he looked.

“Still, I mean…” you sighed softly. “I feel like your sugar baby, hun,” you said half-jokingly.

“Yeah?” he said with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Then that just means I need to spoil my baby more. That’s the bare minimum I can do after all hmm?” He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you two walked off giggling to yourselves like fools, yes, but fools in love.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[oldsoul007]

back to you

joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel lose each other 20 years ago until now

joel miller masterlist

It had been a time of desperate chaos—the world falling apart piece by piece as the Cordyceps fungus ravaged the human population, turning family, friends, neighbors, and strangers alike into mindless monsters. The infection had spread fast, too fast, and when the first signs of the outbreak hit, Joel and I had no idea how bad it would get. We had no way of knowing how quickly the world would change, how our lives would shatter.

We had been living in Austin, Texas, just before everything unraveled. Joel and I had found each other after both had weathered our own storms. Joel, already hardened by the loss of his daughter, had been reluctant to open up again, to let anyone in. But me, with my quiet strength and fierce protectiveness, had somehow wormed my way past his walls. We had been inseparable—cooking dinner together, taking long walks in the park when the world still felt like it could survive, making plans for a future that now felt like a dream.

We were out at a grocery store one night getting supplies, It was late, the store empty, when the panic started. At first, it had just been rumors, whispers about some kind of outbreak, about people getting sick, acting strangely. No one really knew what was happening. But the fear was palpable, and soon the streets were filled with people shouting, running, and driving in every direction.

Joel and I had been in the store, frozen, trying to piece together the chaos around us, when the first outbreak in the city was confirmed. Someone came running into the store, screaming. “They’re coming! They’re here! They’re killing people in the streets!” The words were barely out of the person’s mouth before the man was shot—killed by an officer who had clearly snapped under the pressure. The gunshot echoed through the aisles, and the reality of what was happening struck both of us like a blow.

Joel grabbing my hand, pulling me toward the exit. He was already thinking ahead—where to go, how to survive. His instincts had kicked in, and all that mattered was getting us both to safety.

But as we reached the parking lot, the world outside was nothing like we had ever seen before. People were running everywhere, cars were abandoned in the middle of the street, and screams filled the air. There was no order, no government, no protection anymore. The world had just… collapsed.

Joel and I jumped into the truck, making a run for it, weaving through traffic, heading toward what we hoped would be safety—toward the country roads, away from the violence, away from the chaos. The radio was filled with static and terrifying reports about people being “turned” into monsters, the cities being overrun, and the government preparing to implement martial law.

But the further we got, the more the roads became impassable. Traffic ground to a halt. People were panicking, leaving their cars behind to run on foot. The military had begun to set up barricades and block roads, trying to contain the spread of the infection, but it was clear they weren’t winning. In a matter of hours, it was every man for himself.

As we approached a bridge on the outskirts of town, the military set up a roadblock, and the situation escalated. The soldiers were desperate, their faces wild with fear. Joel could see them shouting at people to stop, to turn back, but chaos had already descended. Some people obeyed, others didn’t. The soldiers were growing more aggressive by the minute.

Then, the first gunshot rang out, echoing through the air, followed by the staccato of multiple shots. People screamed and scattered. It was a massacre. I clutched Joel’s arm, pulling him toward the back of the truck as we tried to take cover.

But in the madness, the truck was hit. A soldier fired at our vehicle—one shot, then another—and we were caught in the crossfire. Joel shoved me down into the truck bed as bullets ricocheted around them, his mind racing. He could hear me scream, but everything was a blur of motion and panic.

The next thing Joel knew, the truck was overturned. He was thrown to the ground, and the world spun in a dizzying whirl. His head slammed against the asphalt, and when he opened his eyes, everything had changed. The truck was in flames, the sound of gunfire was distant now, and the road was littered with bodies. But y/n was gone.

Panic flooded him as he tried to sit up, his body aching, his mind foggy from the blow. “Y/n!” he shouted, his voice raw, desperate. His hands were trembling as he pushed himself up, looking around. But the smoke from the truck and the blur of his vision made it hard to focus. “Y/n!” he called again, stumbling toward where he last saw her.

But there was no answer. No sign of her.

His heart hammered in his chest as he fought to stay calm, trying to think. She couldn’t be far. She couldn’t. But every direction he turned led to more chaos, more destruction. The world was coming down around him, and he couldn’t find her.

He ran, calling her name until his throat felt raw, but all he found were empty streets and the distant sounds of chaos. People running. Soldiers shouting. The infected tearing through the streets. And through it all, he couldn’t find y/n.

Eventually, he was forced to retreat. He couldn’t stay on the streets; it wasn’t safe. He had to keep moving, had to survive. But every time he looked over his shoulder, he expected to see her, standing there, coming toward him.

But she never did.

For weeks, Joel searched, desperately trying to find any trace of her. He moved from city to city, scavenging for supplies, trying to avoid the growing number of infected. He asked anyone he met, hoping against hope that someone had seen her, that someone knew where she was. But no one did.

As the months passed, and the world became a nightmare of survival and bloodshed, Joel’s hope began to wither. Y/b was gone. And the life he’d once known—those simple, precious days of being with her—had been buried by the weight of everything that had happened.

The days turned into weeks, then months, and the years stretched on. Joel tried to survive. He tried to forget. But he couldn’t.

Y/n was a ghost in his mind, a presence that never fully left him. He thought about her in the quiet moments, when the weight of the world wasn’t pressing on him, and he wondered if she was still out there—alive, surviving, thinking of him as he thought of her.

But every time he let himself think of her, the fear would grip him. What if she wasn’t alive? What if she hadn’t made it?

He never stopped looking. But after so much time, after so many broken pieces of the world, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been lost forever.

It was a wound that never fully healed.

Until now. Until Jackson. Until he saw her again.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the town square of Jackson, and everything felt… surreal. The world seemed quieter here—safer—but that didn’t change the gnawing ache in my chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything that had happened, despite all the time that had passed, something was about to happen. Something big.

It had been months since Tommy had returned. When he’d arrived back in Jackson, he’d been a man worn down by years of survival, much like the rest of us, but there was something different about him. Something in his eyes. Something in the way he carried himself, like there was a weight on his shoulders that wasn’t just about the chaos of the world. Something about the way people spoke when they saw him—the way they avoided certain questions, the way they looked at me with a mixture of pity and hope.

Then came the whispers. Joel was alive. Joel Miller, her Joel, was alive.

I didn’t believe it at first. I couldn’t. Not after all this time, after everything we’d been through, after the last time I’d seen him. It had been 20 years—twenty years since I last saw his face, since I last felt the warmth of his hands in mine, since the world had fallen apart.

I’d lost him then. Lost him in the chaos. In the violence. In the desperation of that world where nothing, not even love, could survive for long.

But now, standing in the square with Tommy in front of me, I felt the pull of that memory—of the person I had been before all of this. The woman who had loved Joel with everything she had. The woman who had believed they’d somehow be okay, despite everything. The woman who had lost him anyway.

Tommy’s face was tight, his jaw set in that way that always made me nervous. Something was off with him, something hidden. His eyes flicked nervously to the side, like he was trying to gauge something, or someone. I didn’t know if it was me he was avoiding or the truth that had yet to come out. But then I saw him.

Joel.

My stomach flipped in a way that was both familiar and completely foreign. He was standing there, just a few feet away, as though he’d been watching us the whole time. His face was gaunt, like he hadn’t eaten in days, but there was something unmistakable about the way he stood. The way he held himself. It was him. My Joel. After all this time. After all the years of wondering, of waiting, of fighting to stay alive in a world that felt like it had no room for love, it was him.

I froze. The air seemed to leave my lungs all at once. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, my feet, my thoughts. I could barely breathe, could barely move.

Then I did.

I started walking toward him—slowly at first, unsure if I was dreaming, unsure if I could trust what I was seeing. He didn’t move at first, just watched me with that same look I remembered—like he couldn’t quite believe it, either.

“Joel…” My voice was barely a whisper, like I wasn’t sure I even had the strength to speak his name after all this time.

And then, as if the world around us had ceased to exist, I was in his arms. His rough, calloused hands were on my back, pulling me in, holding me against him. I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the scent of him—the faint trace of earth and leather and everything I’d forgotten I needed.

He smelled like home.

His voice rumbled in my ear, hoarse with emotion. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

I nodded into his neck, unable to speak, not sure if I was even capable of forming words. I hadn’t let myself think about him for so long, hadn’t allowed myself to believe that I might see him again. That maybe, just maybe, I could find him.

But here he was. Alive. Real. And I couldn’t remember a time when I’d needed him more.

I felt his hands trembling as they ran over my back, as if he couldn’t believe I was real either. I stepped back just enough to look up at him. His face was rough, older, but still the man I’d known. The man I’d loved.

Tommy, watching from a distance, smiled softly to himself, his eyes flicking to Ellie, who had her arms crossed, watching with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. It was a strange thing, witnessing the reunion, but it was also a rare, beautiful thing. He could see the weight of the years lifting from Joel’s shoulders, even if only for a moment.

“Joel, I thought… I thought you were dead,” I whispered. The words sounded strange, as though I’d been carrying them around for too long.

His eyes closed briefly, and I saw the pain there. The same old pain that never really left him, no matter how many years had passed.

“I thought the same about you,” he muttered, brushing a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off the years. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you again.”

And for a moment, there was nothing else. No chaos. No world falling apart. Just us, standing there, lost in time.

Joel’s hands tightened around me, as if he wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t either. The air between us was heavy now, charged with all the things left unsaid.

Joel squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over the back of it. “We’ve got time, y/n. Time to figure this out.”

I nodded, barely able to contain the wave of emotion that had built up in me. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words felt too small for what I was feeling.

Instead, I just held onto him. The man I had once thought I’d lost forever. And in that moment, I let myself believe that, maybe, we could find our way back. Together.

The sun had dipped low, casting a warm, golden hue over Jackson. The town, though small and humble, had become a symbol of stability in a world that had long been devoid of it. The smell of fresh bread from the local bakery drifted through the air, mixing with the earthy scent of pine and the faint hum of distant laughter. It was a peaceful night—one that Joel thought he’d never see again, especially after everything that had happened with Ellie, the Fireflies, and the things we’d both lost.

I stood just a few steps away from him in the courtyard, my hands folded tightly in front of me, my brow furrowed as I glanced down at the ground. The years had left our marks—on both of us—but there was something familiar in the way my eyes met his. He could see the same spark, the same strength. He felt a rush of relief in his chest, but also something else—something he hadn’t quite expected.

Fear.

Joel cleared his throat,

I sighed, my gaze drifting toward the horizon. There was a long pause. After a moment, I spoke again, voice steady, but my words were pointed. “I thought I’d lost you, Joel. I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

My eyes softened, and I stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm, but my gaze remained intense, searching his face for the truths he hadn’t shared in all the years they’d been apart. “I need you to understand something. I don’t just… need you here now. I want you here. With me. I’m not letting go of you again.”

The words cut deeper than he expected. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to hear that. But as she spoke, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—a decision she was making, and he wasn’t going to like it.

He swallowed hard and met her gaze. “There’s something you need to know about what I’m doin’, y/n.” His voice softened, but the weight of it was unmistakable. “I’m takin’ Ellie to the Fireflies. She’s the key to everything. Maybe the cure.”

My face remained neutral, but my jaw tightened. “I know. I heard about it. You’re gonna try to save the world, right?”

Joel flinched at the way I said it—like I was trying to keep my emotions in check, but the words cut anyway. He hated that she had to be so strong, so distant, but he understood why. We had both lost too much in this world to trust anything easily.

“I have to do this,” Joel said, his voice thick with determination. “It’s for Ellie. It’s for everyone.”

My expression hardened. I took a step back, crossing my arms over my chest, as if weighing something. “And you think you’re just going to leave here alone? After all these years?” I asked, my tone cutting now, almost like a challenge. “You think I’m just going to sit here and let you go off on your own? No. I’m coming with you, Joel.”

Joel’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts momentarily swirling. “Y/n, I just got you back. I—I can’t lose you again.” His voice faltered for a moment, the rawness of his emotions slipping through despite his best effort to stay composed. “You’ve already been through enough, seen enough. You don’t need to be part of this.”

My face was unyielding. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” I said, my voice steady but firm. “I’m not who I used to be, Joel. I know what it means to survive, to fight for what matters. And you—you are what matters. You think I’m going to sit back and let you walk into danger without me?”

Joel looked at her, his mind racing. His first instinct was to protect her, to keep her safe from the world and all its cruelty. It was why he’d shut her out for so long, why he’d tried to push her away before. But she was different now. Stronger. And she wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

“Don’t make me choose between you and her,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes softened, and I reached for his hand, my grip firm but gentle. “I’m not asking you to choose. I’m asking you to let me help.” My eyes locked onto his. “We’ve been through too much to turn back now. We’ve already lost so much. I’m not losing you again—not when we’re so damn close.”

Joel closed his eyes, his breath coming out in a rush. The pain of his past, the burden of Ellie’s safety, the fear of losing y/n all pressed in on him at once. But when he looked at her again, something in her expression—a quiet strength, an unshakeable resolve—made him realize that this was something he couldn’t keep from her. Not anymore.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Joel said, his voice low, filled with a vulnerability he hadn’t allowed himself to show in years.

“You won’t stop me,” I replied softly, but there was no hesitation in my voice. “And you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

For a moment, the world outside of Jackson felt like it didn’t exist. In that space, with my hand in his and the years between us seeming both too short and too long, Joel knew that I wasn’t just offering him my presence. I was offering him something he didn’t know he needed: a partnership—a choice to face whatever was coming, together.

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice steadying, his decision made. “We do this together. No turning back.”

My smile was small but fierce, the quiet promise of our unspoken bond lingering in the air between us.

And for the first time in a long time, Joel felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to lose everything he loved again.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Swirlypod

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

YIPPEE YAHOO! A brand swirlin' new snail fresh for 2023! It has been quite a long time now since we've gotten a new Mario snail, and even since I've posted about one, since I covered all the snailiest Mario snails a while ago. But lookie here! Snaily snaily snail for me to see and for you to view!

Swirlypod is so delightful! To get this out of the way first, yes, its eyes are not on the ends of stalks. Yes, this is good and okay. Some snails are like that! Especially freshwater snails. And that's the kind of snail that this snail seems to be! While sometimes seen on land, it is also seen emerging from (poisonous) swamps. It can breathe that!

Swirlypod's face is just so, so precious. Its big, innocent, curious eyes experiencing the world in the way only a snail could! Its big ol' bulbous antennae, more bulbous than they have any right being, more like a nudibranch's than a normal snail's! And its mouth! I think that's its mouth? It's like three scrumbly tentacles ready to scrumble down some delicious fungus!

Did you know that the salt marsh snail Littoraria irrorata is able to FARM fungus? They damage marsh grasses to create large wounds for fungus to grow in, and even use their own poop as fertilizer! Snails can FARM!

Yes, indeed, what a wonderful snail we have here! Thank you, Super Mario Bros. Wonder!

...Hey! That shell comes right off! Now it's all Pod, with no Swirly! Does this mean Lime is The Impostor? I may have just asked you, but that was rhetorical. Don't ask me, because I don't know! Removable shells are a common ability for cartoon snails, and of course, the turtles of this world also have removable shells. I think it doesn't really mean much at all! Though, the idea of a "hermit slug" is very amusing. A snail who can't be bothered to grow its own shell. Maybe it wants to switch shells for different styles sometimes. A slow victim of fast fashion!

Wonder is one of those games where Koopa Troopas retreat into their shells when stomped, so Swirlypod is sort of a way to have Beach Koopa in the same game as the more standardly-behaving Koopa! Once it gets back on its foot, it will try to squirm back into a shell, if one is available. You can give it back! Just drop it down at your feet, and Swirlypod will have a home once more!

Another thing that sets Swirlypods apart from Koopas is that they are sticky slimy and can slither up and down vertical surfaces! Just like in real life! They don't only climb on the left and right sides of surfaces, either. They can even go on the surface facing the screen! Not just anyone is allowed to do that!

I am saving what may be the best tidbit for last! There is a good chance Swirlypod's bulbous antennae look familiar to you. That's because they look just like Leucochloridium paradoxum, the green-banded broodsac, everyone's favorite snail parasite! The flatworm that inhabits a snail's eyestalks, making them look more like caterpillars to get a bird to eat them so they can continue their life cycle! Swirlypod definitely isn't supposed to be like, ACTUALLY infected by this funny worm, but I think the resemblance is very much intentional, between the shape and coloring. And that is so awesome to see! This isn't even meant to be a scary snail or anything, but they represented a freaky parasite anyway!

[citrustan]

hi, drabble request! hope this reaches you too 💌

yoongi & reader domestic fluff spice 🫣

hii thanks for this! i'm kinda rusty so i'm assuming domestic is when they're in a relationship and share a home (?)

this is not an original scenario, i simply can't remember where i first saw/read this or something similar. i know 'himym' introduced the 'olive theory' so let's just say this is based on that!

mushroom theory (myg)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, boyfriend!yoongi x girlfriend!reader, smut but not all the way. + i picture yoongi to be older than the reader.

warnings: some tit stuff bec if you haven't already realised by now, i love boob, yoongi gropes reader, some grinding and finger stuff. boyfriend loves being called oppa. < i might've overdone that 🤐

You barge into your home, pushing Yoongi out of the way, "I can't believe I didn't know you liked mushrooms. Why did you let me eat them every time?"

Yoongi follows you in and shrugs, "I thought you liked them."

Flabbergasted, you almost screech, "I hate mushrooms! They're.... fungus and gross and I can't believe you made me eat them all these months."

How is he so nonchalant about it?

You step out of your heels and balance yourself on each foot, one at a time, as you pull your socks off of them.

Yoongi wants to laugh but he knows this is serious for you, "I don't know what to say, babe, you never asked."

"Because I thought," you emphasise on your subjects, "I was doing you a favour."

"By eating every mushroom you see?" Yoongi finally grins.

Abruptly turning, you chuck a sock at him (which he dodges swiftly) and frown, "You're laughing. I stuff myself, FOR YOU, with the only food I hate and you're laughing."

Slowly making his way over to you, Yoongi sighs, "It's not that serious, _____. You never have to eat one again, ever."

Unwilling to let it go, you interrogate him, "Riddle me this; why did you push all those mushrooms to the side on our first date? You picked every single one out."

He walks past you to the couch, where your other sock lay. "I was saving them for the end."

"But you let me eat them," your brows scrunch in confusion, "Why didn't you stop me?"

He beacons you over with a 'come closer' motion of his finger.

Yoongi pulls the oversized sweater over your head. "Well, you put them all in your mouth before I could stop you. Sorry. I thought you'd hurt me if I said anything."

You swat him with your sleeve, "I just didn't want to condone food wastage."

The rant is endless. "I mean, I've never seen you serve yourself mushrooms either! Your friends are evil too. They waited all this time to tell me you loved mushrooms. You people just watched on as I suffered."

"_____, we're going in circles." With his finger, Yoongi directed you to turn around and you happily comply.

You exasperate, "Sorry! I just can't believe I could've gone all those months without secretly gagging during every meal."

Yoongi presses himself against your back enveloping you in a hug, and suggests, "Why don't we make a list of the foods we like and dislike?"

Leaning back into him, you slur, "Maybe..."

More like sulk.

Yoongi drags his large hands up and down your arms and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in pursuit.

When he feels you lax, Yoongi sneakily inches under your white cotton camisole, prodding at and caressing your underboob, enjoying the softness of your skin.

You lock your arms down so he wouldn't pull away easily.

His fingers work their way towards your perked nipples. You help him out a little and pull the flimsy neckline of your top lower to free your breasts.

He wets the pads of his fingers with his tongue and skillfully circles them all over your areola, avoiding your nipples.

You fidget a little as Yoongi teases you, holding off on *actual* foreplay.

"Stop moving, _____." Yoongi scolds.

You squirm more, grinding back against his crotch, letting out small moans of frustration and pleasure.

Indirectly, you motivate him to continue messing with you. He gets off on your bratty yet submissive demeanour.

"Oppa, please..." you whine, "I'm gonna cry..."

Yoongi nearly laughs at how eager you were.

Not wanting to torture you any longer, he spins you around to face him and dives in, tonguing your nipples. At first, he uses his hands to squeeze your tits together, giving him access to both nipples at once. He wets both your nipples, lickng and sucking on them.

"Oppa! More! Please!" You squeal a few incoherent words along the lines of 'harder' 'yes' and 'more'.

You grab onto his almost shoulder-length hair and push your chest harder against his mouth.

One of his giant hands is now wrapped around your lower back to support your wobbly-self, and the other is busied with rubbing, pressing on and gently pinching your free nipple while the other is caught in his mouth.

The cool air attacks your nipples, hardening them even more, each time he pulls them out of his warm, and wet mouth. It's never-ending.

Yoongi kisses, licks and sucks on your nipples as his hands travel down to grope your ass. You desperately grind your aching pussy on him.

You're seeing stars at this point.

Catching on to it, Yoongi spins you around yet again, making your back face him.

It's an everyday thing for the two of you. Your boyfriend was obsessed with your breasts.

Almost every night, after Yoongi's back home from a tiring day at work, he demands to make out with your tits and you've never skipped out on that opportunity.

Sometimes it even helps you sleep better after he's done suckling and slobbering all over your chest. (Or maybe it's the orgasm that helps.)

You begin to sway, with your back still pressed against Yoongi's front, to imaginary music as he struggles to undo your skirt.

Playfully, you condescend, "Does oppa need help taking a teensy skirt off?"

Yoongi looks taken aback. Scoffing, he roughly lifts your skirt, pulling it up higher and revealing your painfully regular, unsexy, washed-out blue cotton panties. You gasp mischievously, "Oppa, be gentle!"

Wasting no time, he grabs you by the waist and drags you to his recliner chair, walking backwards. You pout, feigning offense, "Oppa, you're so harsh..."

Yoongi scoffs in amusement and plops on the comfortable chair, pulling you down on his lap. You squeak an apology when your back harshly smacks into his face (although by no fault of yours.)

Yoongi groans and pulls your knees apart, elevating and pulling them back towards your heads, exposing your still clothed centre.

Yoongi wishes he had a mirror in front of the two of you so he could watch your expressions as he teases you. Maybe he'd bribe you to tag along to IKEA with him the very next day.

You're dripping through your panties, halfway to an orgasm. All because of Yoongi's mouth on your tits. It's only a little humiliating.

Your breathing stabilizes as Yoongi gives you time to steady yourself.

That doesn't last too long after Yoongi's finger traces your sensitive, puffy lips. You jerk and shiver involuntarily, but he holds you in place. The shielded, tiny bundle of nerves yearning to be played with makes you clench around nothing.

Yoongi stuffs his hand inside your panties and begins palming your pussy, getting your essence all over his palm. Your head instantly lolls back as you thank him profusely.

Yoongi groans, his fingers instantly finding your clit, "Fuck... _____, you're so wet. Didn't even have to use my spit. So fucking slippery already..." His throaty tone making you hornier by the second, you moan in delight, "Mm! Oppa... please don't stop..."

Yoongi feels like a pervert getting off on being called 'oppa' by you as he continues teasing your clit, lightly drawing circles on the hood.

"Oppa, please I need your cock in me. Want you to creampie me..."

A little surprised, he scoffs, "What a desperate slut."

You moan (whine) in agreement.

He's unbelievably hard but he won't give in just yet. He kisses the back of your shoulder instead.

Yoongi's middle and ring fingers tease your tight, wet entrance while he thumbs your clit (a little harder this time.)

"Show me your hands." Yoongi's demand confuses your already-dazed self but you comply, lifting both your open palms up close to your faces.

With his free hand, one at a time, Yoongi pulls your hands to his mouth and licks your fingers, "Play with your tits."

You obey and begin tenderly squeezing your breasts, feeling all around and over your areola, rubbing Yoongi's spit on them while gradually building up to toying with your perked nipples.

Never taking his thumb off your clit, he speeds up, now drawing tight circles on your ultra sensitive sweet spot. Your legs spread themselves wider and your fingers seem to have a mind of their own as they mindlessly pinch and soothe your sensitive nubs.

You're unapologetically leaking on Yoongi's very expensive trousers. He doesn't mind though. Yoongi wouldn't mind even if you peed on him. HIS words, not yours.

"Yoongi. Oh, Yoon- Yoonie..." Your whines and moans get breathier and (variations of) his name frequents your tongue as you begin to squirm harder in his lap.

Torturous, his digits continue their assault on your puffy little cunt.

Still barely penetrating you with two of his fingers, Yoongi presses his thumb down harder on your clit flicking it side to side, earning high-pitched cries from you.

Your breathing quickens and your hips lift involuntarily. Your orgasm's so close you can smell it. As can your boyfriend.

Yoongi's face twists in pleasure, watching only his fingers pull these reactions out of you.

"Please, faster, Yoonie... I'll be so good for you, oppa." Letting go off your breasts, you grip the arm of the recliner and your boyfriend's too. You begin grinding down on Yoongi's stiff cock, still hidden in his pants, as you near your climax.

Your somewhat coherent moans turn into nonsensical cries and babbles as Yoongi rubs your pussy faster every second.

The back of your head slams into Yoongi's shoulder. Taking advantage of the change in your posture, he leans in to kiss you, muffling your borderline screams, still playing with your clit.

"Mmmffhp...!!" A specific, very intentional, graze of Yoongi's finger on your other, tight hole sends you through the roof.

Yoongi vocalises in content and satisfaction as you begin to writhe uncontrollably on his lap as your orgasm takes over your entire body.

He palms your pussy to distribute the pressure and help you avoid overstimulation.

You force your tongue into his mouth and suck on his own as he brings you back down on Earth.

The muscles of your lips hurt from kissing so hard.

Reluctantly, Yoongi's the one who pulls away first.

He draws your legs shut and lays you across his lap, as well as the chair could accommodate it, supporting your upper back and head with his arms.

Yoongi smiles and watches your tummy move up and down as you breathe, thinking you'd be falling into slumber anytime now.

After lying motionless for another few minutes, your eyes open and focus on the fond expression on your boyfriend's face.

Your smile comes naturally as you decide to straddle him. All things innocent, of course.

Six months ago, Yoongi most likely wouldn't have known you. If he had somehow noticed you, he probably only knew you as just another girl from his friend's workplace who invited herself to every one of their group hangouts to stare at Yoongi. Not that he ever complained. But now, you're one of, if not the most important people in his life without whom he'd be incomplete.

As cheesy as it sounds, he can't rephrase it. You complete him. You're 'it' for him.

Resting your cheek on top of Yoongi's head, you sigh dreamily, "Thank you."

"Mm." Yoongi simply vocalised in response and held you in an embrace, planting innocent kisses across your breasts.

A peaceful moment passes. Then you gasp in realisation, "Oppa!" You cheer, "We have the whole 'olive theory' thing going!"

Yoongi pulls away to look up at you. The red 'afterglow' tinge on Yoongi's face darkens just a little, thoroughly endeared by your usage of the affectionate term. Almost to the point where he nearly misses everything it was followed by.

He catches himself, "We do?"

"It's this theory that tests how compatible a couple is." You explain, "If one likes olives and the other doesn't, they'd be the perfect match!"

Ah.

"So you're saying we're a perfect match?" Yoongi smirks, feeling smug.

You blink down at him, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would." He nods, "I love you."

Placing a chaste kiss on Yoongi's lips, you smile, "Good." It's sort of an unspoken 'I love you too'.

note: im sooo sorry it took so long! this was like one of the first requests i received so thanks again!

i'm still learning to write smut ok be nicE

this is unedited too 🫣 srry

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

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yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

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Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

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yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

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author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[getmeoutofhell]

Art Headcanons

warnings: this contains piss, demons, and some cussing. read at your own risk.

a/n: have fun and read these headcanons and a small image about this black and white man!

he’s quite frankly a pervert. a demonic, stinky, pervert. nothing good is coming from him and you know it. he smells like the sewer pennywise lives in. shit, ass, and fungus reeks off of his body. if he lives with you, get ready for this dude to come to YOUR home at 2-5 am. oh…he doesn’t care about the fact you have work tomorrow. you just have to deal with it i suppose. 💉

he does shower…rarely tho. i’m sorry. he does stuff on his own time & own pace. there’s no changing that baby. i mean, you can try, but won’t shit help him. “art…please i’m not trying to be rude but…please shower.” he looks at you and pouts. does he shower…no. the main time he does shower is like in the fucking morning where the suns not even up yet. put your foot down when time get like this. tell him you don’t like it. 🩸

he writes most if not all stuff down. since he’s non verbal, he obviously can’t communicate with words. oh my his hand writing is not the best unless he’s writing his own name. which is weird huh? but he’s weird so i guess it doesn’t matter. it’s like he’s a child in kindergarten doing art. you appreciate it but you secretly know it’s terrible. he knows it’s terrible too. “art, what does this even mean?” he looks at you as if you’re stupid and makes that certain faces that ticks you off. 💉

the only time you can tell if he’s really angry is if he’s not smiling and just stares off. he won’t even look you in the eyes or anything. when you try to get his attention he still doesn’t care and ignores you. “art…hello?? *snap snap* oh my goddddd.” ever since he got his head cut off he’s just been…you don’t know. maybe he’s more conscious or something, you’re not sure. 🩸

when it comes to you he’s never serious, and i means NEVER. it’s always a joke or a prank with you. even if you yell at him, he doesn’t give a shit and will continue his laughter. this one time art came home and decided he wanted to piss on the floor and not the bathroom, you know where the TOILET is?? yeah no, he said fuck that. you were furious like beyond mad. you yelled at him like mad to the point where you slept in a different room. despite his “nonchalant” attitude he actually was kinda sad when you slept in a different space. that’s to bad art. 💉

“art?!?! why would you pee on the god damn floor?!??” you yell at the top of your lungs at the toxic liquid that came from the clown. he looks around and laughs at your actions before walking in the living room. you were so fucking heated. you didn’t even know what else to say/do in the situation. your “lover” art had pissed you off enough that day. you decided to sleep in the guest room in y’all’s shared home, just to clear your head and think about your next move. 🤡

[mochinomnoms]

original request jade leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, suggestive [cw] - a tad more explicit compared to the last ones [wc} – 2,875 prompt 18: “Is this normal here?” “Only for the emotionally unavailable folk.” “Ah, so it is.” note - i think i blacked out and woke up to this. jade is just so, aaaaaa!!! a floral inconvenience

Teonanácatl mushroom – In Nahuatl, teonanácatl can be translated to “flesh of the gods” and were sometimes used by the Aztecs as a hallucinogen and aphrodisiac.

Despite your best efforts to not say anything, to not complain, to not even give a hint of what was bothering you, it was obvious to everyone that you had the hanahaki. 

It was even more obvious who for, considering you were sprouting up bell-shaped brown capped mushrooms instead of the traditional flowers. 

Of course Jade’s favorite mushroom would be one of the psychedelic ones. Of course, you had to accidentally swallow a piece of one when spitting them out. 

You could’ve dealt with that, honestly. Strange visions? Check, you got them leading up to every overblot. Distorted vision? Fine, you know Ace’s messed with your vision once or twice while practicing spells. Even the weird sensations every touch, breeze, and vibration in the air caused were somewhat bearable. The magic that seemed to consume the surrounding air made your skin tingle weirdly, you could deal.  

What you couldn’t deal with, was how horny they apparently made you feel. Without fail, depending on how much of the mushrooms you managed to swallow before spitting the majority of them out, five to ten minutes you’d feel the effects. 

Paired with the psychedelic effects, it was torture. You were overstimulated and on edge constantly. Even without the weird trips, the mushrooms were apparently a potent aphrodisiac.

It left you squirming as Jade, the current bane of your existence, stared at you from across the flight field.

Thankfully, none had come out from your throat today, so you were present and alert for once this week. 

“You know Prefect,” Azul spoke up, sitting next to you as the two of you sat out of flight class. You, due to your condition, and him for falling 10-feet off his broom. 

“The flower sickness is quite an easy fix, have you not visited the nurse yet?” 

You shook your head, watching Floyd hang upside down on his broom, screeching as Jack and Silver attempted to ease him into a soft landing. You snorted as the foot that was hooking him to the broom slipped, making him fall on top of Jack. 

“Nah, it’s fine, I don’t think she could deal with the constant lucid trips, last I went she just told me to get this potion for my symptoms, but they’re all flower based!”

Azul raised a brow as he watched you lay on the grass and stretch your limbs until you resembled something of like a starfish. 

You groaned, “They all account for like petals, thorns, or pollen messing with your immune system, but not for fungus and spores… I need to just straight up get rid of them.”

“May I offer some advice—”

“For your prices? No the fuck you may not—”

“—as a mutual friend between you and Jade?” You shut your mouth at the mention of the teal-haired man while Azul continued. “The best and quickest fix is to just tell him your true feelings. It’s the one true, guaranteed cure to your sickness.”

“You say that like you're familiar with it.” If you noticed the tips of Azul’s ears turn purple, you didn’t say anything. “Is it really that normal here?”

Azul scoffed, giving you a wry smile. “It’s only for the emotionally unavailable sort of folk.” 

“Ah, so at this school, it most definitely is.”

The two of you chuckled while Floyd stomped over to your resting spot, visibly limping. 

“Maaaaaan this sucks!” The twin threw himself over Azul, who buckled to the ground under Floyd’s weight. 

“Ow! Floyd!”

“Coach Lobster says I sprained my ankle and can’t go to basketball club later!” Floyd whined, wrapping his lanky body around Azul, who was less than amused. 

“I’ll be stuck at the dorm, I don’t wanna deal with a whiny Jade!”

He turned his attention to you, sneering. “Hey Shrimpy! Go fix whatever ya did to make Jade upset! He’s been acting like a lovesick brat since ya stopped talkin’ to him, it’s gettin’ real old.” 

You scoffed, “I didn’t do anything! And why’s everyone acting like we’re a couple? We’re just friends, sometimes friends don’t talk for a bit!”

“Friends?!” Azul hissed, eye twitching as he gave you an incredulous look. “Some ‘friends’ you are. Based on the sounds I hear coming out of his room late at night, I highly doubt that.”

“We’re friends with benefits!” you cried out, looking behind you to see if anyone noticed or heard your outburst. As you did, Azul and Floyd shared a confused look. 

“Friends with…benefits?” Azul asked. 

Floyd nodded, also questioning your words. “What’s that?”

Despite your best efforts to explain the concept, the two couldn’t comprehend the idea of casual intimacy with an acquaintance or friend. Apparently it was a strictly human concept, as Floyd put it: “Why’d you wanna do that with someone other than a mate? Merfolk aren’t built like that!”

You left class with more questions than answers. Questions you probably could’ve had answered if you spoke with Jade. It didn’t help that Azul and Floyd kept giving you concerned looks as they quietly spoke with Jade, who kept glancing at you with a neutral expression.

Mostly neutral, his brows were furrowed as he spoke with his brother and friend. 

Oh well, a little mystery never hurt no one!

Stomping over to the Mostro Lounge, you kept looking over your shoulder for Jade. Even with everything Azul and Floyd said, you weren’t mentally prepared for a conversation with him. 

You’re sure that when Azul asked you to come to his V.I.P. Room, it was for some ruse to get you and Jade together. But he also mentioned you taking up extra shifts at the bar, and you were always in need of a little extra cash. 

However, that would be more interaction with Jade, and you’d rather deal with another bad shroom trip than confront any of your feelings for him. But…money.

“Hey! You!” You tapped the shoulder of one of the lounge employees, who recognized and greeted you with a smile. 

“Ah! Prefect!” The purple-haired man smiled. “Azul said he was expecting you! Go right ahead to his office.”

“Thanks!” Walking through the lounge into the hallway leading to the private rooms and Azul’s office, the eerie silence was unsettling. 

Usually there’d be at least a few employees walking around, either serving food to one of the reservable rooms or checking in with their housewarden. Even passing the employee lounge made you uneasy, as no one was there despite the lack of dinner rush. 

You did make it to Azul’s office with little issue, knocking on the door as you announced, “I’m ‘ere, Azul! Can I come in? 

You received no answer. Apprehensively you opened the door, surprised to find it empty. Entering and closing the door behind you, you decided to be nosy and look at what Azul had on his desk while you waited. 

He was probably here recently, based on the cup of tea on his desk. The door opened up behind you, so you turned to greet Azul with a wave and smile before freezing. 

Really, you should’ve known better than to trust Azul to mind his own business. You curled in on yourself as Jade entered the office, a pleasant smile on his lips he locked the door behind him. 

You decided that nonchalant and cool was the best approach in this situation. 

You greeted Jade in a polite, monotone voice. “Leech.”

“My, my, Prefect. So cold.” Jade gave you a sad look as he pursed his lips. “We haven’t spoken since our trip two weeks ago, was my company so terrible that it warrants your avoidance?”

His tall frame towered over you as he stalked closer and closer, forcing you backwards until your back hit the desk. You could hear the tea cup and saucer clink as you did. Jade placed his hands on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you against Azul’s desk. 

“W-well, I’ve been busy—

“Why, I’ve been absolutely beside myself! We had such a wonderful time camping out those two evenings that I'm left wondering if I did something wrong.” 

Jade softly spoke, a mischievous gleam in his gold eye as he leaned down to coo in your ear, “Especially since you, oh, so enjoyed my tongue in your—”

You decided that nonchalant and cool was actually not the best approach, based on the numerous mushrooms popping up from your skin and in your mouth. 

Jade whipped his head back, rubbing his chin from where the mushroom smacked into him while popping up at the crook between your chin and neck. 

He grinned as more and more bell-capped mushrooms sprouted down your exposed arms and neck, even along your head as they fashioned into a mushroom crown. 

You froze, then started hacking as too many mushrooms filled and fell out of your mouth, though you could feel yourself swallow some on instinct. “Shitshitshit, I ate some, oooooh fuck me—”

“I did two weeks ago, you seemed to enjoy it—”

“Shut up! You know that's not what I meant!” You groaned, rubbing your face as Jade leaned back in to place his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles. 

“Heh-heh, I know. You must forgive me my dear, you are entirely too easy to rile up.” He grabbed your hands so that Jade could make eye contact with you, smiling a bit softer at your red face. 

“It’s your fault you know!” You huffed, frowning (or pouting in Jade’s vision) up at him. “You and your stupid mushrooms…”

“Oh? I beg to differ.” You yelped as Jade lifted you like a rag doll and sat you on the desk. At this angle, Jade didn’t need to strain his neck as much to lean down. 

“I’d argue that this entirely your own doing. After all, nothing was preventing you from speaking to me other than your own ego.” 

“That’s not—” you angrily huffed, half-heartedly shoving Jade. “That’s NOT it and you know it.”

The eel mer frowned, a rare annoyed expression on his features. He took a deep breath, reaching for your hands to softly and tenderly draw circles into your palm. Jade tended to do this when his mind was full of thoughts, tracing random shapes into your skin. 

He was especially fond of doing so after your late night meet ups: bare bodies flush against one another in an afterglow as he lulled you to sleep with sweet words, tracing out his name and hearts against your back. 

If you thought too much into it, sometimes you think he was tracing your first name with his last, usually done after a particularly rough night. 

You didn’t want to think too much into it though, all those nights. Jade was simply indulging your soft heart. 

“I don’t, actually. Can you imagine my ire when my beloved partner not only started sprouting psilocybe mexicana, but it was from hanahaki. Do you know the implications of that to me?”

“Look, I’m sorry that I’m sooooo emotional and am ruining your ‘cool’ and ‘intimidating’ reputation!” You cried out, pushing his hands off of yours to cross them, looking to the side.

“I didn’t mean for my feelings to get so out of control. The first rule to being friends-with-benefits is to not catch feelings, and I broke it.”

You shrugged as you continued.

“I had them before, but I thought that if we just got involved casually, I’d get over them eventually…it’s not my fault you talk and act so sappy…like you want me to fall more in love or something…” 

Jade was silent, which in itself wasn’t unusual for him. What was, was the troubled, nearly distraught look on his face. You’d be annoyed at how pretty he still was if the expression didn’t freak you out. 

“Most likely because I was under the impression that we were courting. You are aware that I have been addressing you as my mate for several months now, yes?”

Time froze, though it might have been the effects of the mushrooms starting to hit. Or a combination of the shrooms and your brain trying to process the words that just left Jade’s mouth. 

Mate. Floyd called you his brother’s mate. He’s actually been calling you his mate.

“What?” You squeaked out, voice meek and tiny. “Mate? Like, your partner-type mate? Like, this is the person I’m marrying-type mate?”

Jade let out a chuckle, cutting the distance between you until his face was right up to yours. 

Startled, you grasped on the lapels of his uniform, trying to steady yourself as you leaned back. Jade’s arms were splayed on the table as he once again trapped you against the desk. 

Though this time, intentionally you’re sure, he settled himself between your legs as you, subconsciously mind you, loosely wrapped your legs around his hips. 

Jade smirked as he watched you cough out another handful of mushrooms, though he was disappointed to see none were bitten this time around. 

“Allow me to, how do you humans say? Ah, yes, open your eyes to the situation.” 

Jade grabbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with his stern gaze. “I do not involve myself with other people to such an…intimate extent casually, especially as a merperson.”

“This thing you call ‘friends with benefits’? As a concept it’s entirely human. Merfolk? If we see something, if we like it, then we make it ours and you?” 

Jade chuckled, leaning down and taking your earlobe into his sharp teeth. 

“Little human~” he purred. “I made you mine the moment we blessed my bed with your sweet cries.”

You shivered from the points of his teeth as he tugged, sighing as he let go, up until his lips met your pulse point at the crook of your neck, suckling down. You could feel his pleased hum vibrate through your spine as you mewled in response. 

Heat pooled in your belly while your skin felt like it was simultaneously on fire and freezing, though you couldn’t be sure if it was the effects of the mushroom or Jade. 

“J-Jade, stooOOoOop i-it,” despite your protests, you tilted your head to offer the rest of you like a present, little gasps escaping your lips as his lips trailed down, following the mushrooms that adorned your clavicle. 

“What if Azul o-or your—o-ooh fuck—or your brother walk in?”

Jade leaned back with a closed mouth smile, admiring the red marks adorning your neck. 

“Let them, so that every time you forget what you are and what you mean to me, the image of my mate bent over this desk is burned through their heads, so that it implores them to remind you of what you are.”

Pushing you until you laid flat on your back, Jade hovered over you with a grin and beheld your flushed face. 

You slid your hands from his chest to loop around his neck, bringing Jade down to meet your lips before he stopped. 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, eyes widening as he stuck his tongue out to reveal a singular mushroom. He must have hidden it under his tongue after swiping it from your neck earlier.

“Wait, Jade!” You gasped as he bit and swallowed the fungus. “It’s a psychedelic—”

“And an aphrodisiac, I’m aware.” He hummed, a pleased look on his face.

“Land flora is so fascinating, I’d hoped to introduce this one to you over the summer, to experience it together, back home in a nice, private little grotto.”

Jade pressed his lips to yours, surprisingly gently, as you returned it with a growing intensity. His right hand reached up between your embrace to undo the buttons of your shirt. 

“Oh well, I suppose we can share an experience here. Isn’t the thought of someone walking in exhilarating?”

Once your shirt was open, and your chest exposed, Jade took the tips of his fingers between his teeth and yanked his pristine white glove off. He trailed his exposed hand, starting with a squeeze at the base of your neck, and slowly gliding down. 

His pupils were slowly blowing out as the effects of the mushroom started to take hold, his breath increasing as you grew more and more needy from the aphrodisiac. 

“Jade, please~” you tried again to yank him down for another kiss, this time succeeding as your lips clashed against one another. 

“Jade…I need…” 

“Shhh. I got you.” Jaed cooed, hips grounding against yours as your kiss intensified. “I got you Y/N, my little human, my pearl, my mate—”

“Hey Jade, are you two almost done talking, I’d like my office back—ACK!” Azul shrieked at the sight of you two over his desk, Floyd popping his head out from around the now open door. 

“Hmm? Ewwwww!” Floyd made gagging sounds as you quickly redressed yourself, Jade looking amused at the situation.

“You’re supposed to talk it out, not get it on! Go somewhere else! It’s bad enough that I can hear you through the walls, you’re like three rooms down from mine!”

Jade let out a chuckle, wrapping his hand around your waist once you were up and buttoned up. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to bother you. Come, my pearl.” You were dragged out of the room, wincing at the other two with an apologetic look. 

You apparent ‘mate’ was guiding you to the exit of the lounge, to the direction of the pools. 

As he leaned down to whisper into your ear, you could feel his grip tighten on your hip, causing a pleasurable buzz to crawl up your body, your lucid high growing stronger. 

“Why don’t we see how my merform handles the mushrooms, and then see how you can handle me, hmm?”

[sporelings-au]

How did mother spore meet her lovely hubby?

@whatmoredoyouwangfromme

again, my eng aint that great so if there's any confusion, ask me and i'll clear it up as best as i can ^^;

---

so doc's a creeper and goat hybrid that is being kept alive by machinery. (why? idk yet lol. maybe bc he fought god or he exploded before idk)

He left his hometown in search of some place else to live in (why? again, the author is just incompetent at making up stories ><)

He set sail in a boat and ended up crashing into mother spore's island. Mother immediately sensed him and thought it was a HEP agent. He went to check out what happened only to find doc lamenting about his ruined ship. And mother is immediately intrigued.

he's never seen someone like doc before. A creeper and goat hybrid? the very idea is laughable to mother. But here doc stands, trying to salvage what was left of his ship.

Mother is even more intrigued of doc when it seems that her mycelium and fungus doesn't affect doc at all.

like i said, doc's half cyborg, so whatever machinery that's keeping him alive also disintegrates any bacteria- or in this case, mycelium spores from entering his system. Making him fully immune to mother spore's influence.

So, mother spore decided to play around with doc to test his abilities. She would make the mushrooms on her island shift and move around, confusing doc about his whereabouts (and also making sure doc doesn't get close to the mansion).

Then, she would send out her sporelings to play tricks with doc by placing traps. (the sporelings and mother would remain unseen by doc throughout all this)

but doc's a smart guy. Doc would stop trusting his surroundings and instead count his steps to determine where he is and make sure he doesnt get lost. He's also getting better at recognizing if there's a trap laid out for him and disarming them.

Mother would then get more and more frustrated by doc outsmarting him but at the same time very impressed by doc actually surviving and adapting on his island.

the sporelings would then get careless with making sure doc doesn't see them and one day, doc caught ren.

Doc saw ren wagging his tail while laying down traps and he picked ren up like a kitten, surprising both ren and mother. Mother was about to charge in and kill doc but stop bc doc just placed ren back down, letting him run away.

now, mother spore is even more curious about doc.

slowly, doc uncovered all the sporelings one by one.

and with every sporeling he caught, the closer to the mansion mother would allow him to get.

then one day, doc got to the mansion and mother spore is in front of it, waiting to give doc a final test.

Mother spore invites doc into the mansion for tea but doc politely declines, knowing the moment he set foot into the mansion, he would instantly become a dead man.

And mother spore was like "smart and polite. I like you." and let him leave the island scot-free.

But doc doesn't leave. Well, he would occasionally, to get supplies but he would always return to the island.

The sporelings would then get comfortable around doc and started to actually really like him and accept him as a part of their mushroom family.

mother and doc would also bond with each other and get really close. But each time mother invites him in for tea, doc would still decline.

until one day, when mother invites doc in for tea again, doc actually accepted.

Doc can't get infected by the mycelium, but mother made sure the food and drinks he gave doc that day weren't laced with mycelium anyways.

[aquaquadrant]

Why do I feel like Etho and Patho would actually really get along well. Like there'd be a minute of "oh shit" then they'd be making some weird machine together.

Also any chance you would be willing to share the story about Patho's clock and maybe info on Hels Bdubs?

(honestly? true. patho isn’t bothered enough w the concept of being a doppelgänger so he’d be chill w etho if etho was chill with him. and etho’s like. always chill. anyway idk if this’ll answer ur questions but here’s uhhhh something)

~*~

patho pauses at the top of the netherrack hill, boots hissing briefly as he shifts off a magma block.

xyz: -12,485.167 / 67.09835 / 253,295.942

the coordinates ever-present within his field of view tell him he should be another hundred or so blocks away in the z axis, but he can already see the jungle’s grown since his last visit. it’s been slowly overtaking the neighboring nether waste biome for a couple decades, now. rate of growth has held constant, unchanging. that's something, at least.

patho slowly scans the horizon. words and numbers flash across the left half of his vision as his cybernetic eye rapidly processes new information based on visual input: netherrack, netherrack, crimson nylium, grass, jungle wood, jungle wood, jungle leaves, weeping vine. light level 3, 3, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4. there's a lava pool eleven blocks over in the x axis; light level 15.

he starts walking again.

153 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 23/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 18 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,487.331 / 65.21091 / 253,375.987 block: -12,487 65 253,375 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 5 (0 sky, 5 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

the data shifts with every step. he's learned to tune most of it out by now, only paying attention to the biome indicator as he crosses the chunk threshold.

biome: error:crimson jungle

particles and sounds immediately jump up a couple degrees. glowing red specks dance slowly in the air, mingling with the ambient noises; hoglins rooting around in the brush, parrots calling unseen from the canopy above, lava bubbling in a pool nearby.

p: 35 sounds: 23/247

the temperature is warmer here. patho shrugs off his jacket, letting it hang at his elbows as he picks his way through the jungle. he doesn't even need to think about where he's going, coordinates left ignored at the edge of his vision. he's taken this path many times before, and he never has to wander very long.

his boots crunch softly on the nylium and grass terrain. jungle leaves and crimson fungus alike brush at his shoulders as he ducks underneath branches, taking care not to get tangled in weeping vines.

this is his favorite jungle. it's not the only crimson jungle he's ever come across- not to mention the warped jungles- but out of all the biomes he's seen, it's the one with the greenest leaves. something about this jungle sustains the normal trees just as well as it does the fungi, allowing the grass and leaves to stay bright and full instead growing in wilted and brown. it makes a lovely contrast with the blood red fungi.

not for the first time, he's thankful that the jungle is far enough away from spawn to be left alone. if other players knew about this place, with its well-sustained passive mob spawning and greenery, they'd destroy it for resources for sure. but he never worries too much about that possibility, because no mob or player sets foot in this jungle without permission from-

a weeping vine suddenly sprouts from the ground and lashes around patho's leg.

it's quickly joined by several more, snaking out from the undergrowth to wrap around his other limbs. before he can blink, he's lifted off the ground and pulled up into the trees. he doesn't struggle, doesn't panic- this is nothing new to him. the vines string him up among the highest branches, where a familiar figure is crouched in front of him, nothing but a pair of glowing red eyes beneath a heap of moss.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

"hey, dbubs," patho says casually.

the figure straightens up, hood falling back to reveal his face. his huge red eyes are sparkling with excitement, despite the dark circles lining them, and his mouth falls open in a wide, sharp-toothed grin. vines of varying shapes and sizes curl lazily around his body, small tendrils sprouting from the mossy cloak he wears. a couple veins of red discolor his skin, crawling up his neck and across his face. his messy hair is a bit whiter than the last time patho saw him, tinged red at the roots. a clock hangs around his neck, to match the one hanging from patho's hip.

"patho!" dbubs practically shouts, throwing his arms out.

sounds: 24/247

before dbubs can say anything else, patho asks his usual question. “what’s your name?”

“what’s my-” dbubs blinks, works his jaw for a second. “GODSLAYER666,” he proclaims loudly, puffing his chest out. then he pauses, frowns. “wait, no, i- i don’t know why i just said that. uh…”

it’s somewhere in the middle, then. not as bad as his worst days- at least he’s aware he’s lying, even if he has no control over it. and patho has to admit, that's one of the most entertaining responses dbubs has ever given to his little test.

"uh huh." patho shifts in the web of vines. they're holding a bit tighter than normal. of course, he could still easily break out of them. if he wanted to. "did you miss me, dbubs?" he asks instead, his voice teasing.

dbubs throws his head back to let out a sharp laugh, sending a shower of red particles fluttering through the air. "what?" he demands incredulously, his eyes blown wide. "miss you? i d- eugh, n'you stupid- i- i didn't even notice you were gone!"

patho hums with amusement. "then you don't wanna, like, kiss me or anything?"

"no," dbubs insists stubbornly, even as he comes closer. he steps boldly into patho's space, hands coming up to grab his face. "no, no of course not, i don't..." his long eyelashes flutter as he looks patho up and down. he smells like moss; like old vegetation and decay. there's soil and dried blood caked under his fingernails. "why would i- you ha- you have a lotta nerve..." dbubs tugs at the left strap of patho's mask, tilting his head. "do i- uh, do i get to see ya?" he asks, expression suddenly eager.

"yeah," patho chuckles.

dbubs grins widely, pulling patho's mask down. for a moment, he just looks at him. his calloused hand scuffs along the metal parts of patho's face- the entire ramus of his left mandible and most of his cheekbone, lost in the explosion that took his eye. the remaining skin is rough with scar tissue. dbubs strokes his thumb along that, too.

"i lo- um, i- i hate your stupid face," dbubs mumbles before he finally kisses patho. he seems to process his words a second later, breaking away with a small gasp of "oh! i d-", but patho simply leans in again, reclaiming his lips.

he knows what dbubs meant.

~*~

dbubs spares patho the trouble of walking, simply having the vines carry him to the hideaway. it's a difficult base to categorize: part tree house, part nest, part garden. in some places the floor is made of wood- in others, just a thick layer of leaves. there are potted plants and hanging vines everywhere, interspersed among stacks of barrels and moldy bookcases. little red mushrooms sprout from walls made of thatch and tree trunks. a couple of shroomlights provide gentle lighting as glittery particles drift through the open air; red, from the biome itself, and green from the spore blossom that patho brought him last year.

the vines unceremoniously drop patho onto the makeshift bed- a mat of moss and old, shredded banners. he's barely gotten settled, pulling his mask up and pulling his jacket off, before dbubs flops onto him with a heavy wuff.

"so!" dbubs starts loudly, propping his elbows up on patho's stomach. "what brings ya to see ol' dbubs today, huh?"

patho huffs a laugh. "what, i can't just stop by to say hi?"

"oh sure, okay." dbubs rolls his eyes, one of his vines flicking through the air dismissively. "you j- yeah, okay, be all secretive, then! see if i care." his haughty demeanor doesn't last long, though, as he shimmies up a little further, arms folded on patho's chest. "d'you- uh, do you wanna hear what i've been doin'?"

patho sighs good-naturedly, shifting so he can tuck his arms behind his head and lean back against the wall. "alright, go ahead."

dbubs beams at him and immediately starts telling lies. he tells patho about all the amazing things he's built (the jungle looks the same), all the incredible battles he's fought (no one's entered the jungle in years), all the wonderful places he's gone (he can't leave the jungle).

but patho doesn't mind that it's all lies. he's content to listen anyways.

they carry on like this until dbubs suddenly pauses, scrambling for his clock. "uh oh! gotta schreep."

patho glances at his own clock; dbubs is right on time, as always. that's one thing he never lies about. "okay, okay," he says, pushing dbubs off- he hits the moss with a soft thump. "lemme get my anchor."

"well, hurry up already!" dbubs shouts impatiently, vines swatting at patho's arm as he pops down his ender chest.

after placing the anchor and setting his spawn, patho reaches up and presses his finger directly into the center of his left eye, shutting it off.

he doesn’t regret putting a data processor into his cybernetic eye; the information it’s given him is invaluable. but every now and then, he needs a break from it. even when his eyes are closed, the display is still active, showing blank values on the back of his eyelid. turning the eye off is the only way to make it go away- of course, at the price of half his vision. so he only does it if he’s sleeping somewhere fully secure, and if he’s alone.

the jungle is an exception. dbubs has full domain out here- no mob or player can come close to his home without him allowing it.

"finally," dbubs huffs as patho settles back down. he's quick to cling with both his arms and assorted vines.

patho can't help but chuckle. "what's that you said about not missing me?"

"oh, shut up!"

~*~

patho abruptly reenters consciousness, emerging from a deep, dreamless sleep. with a soft groan, he fumbles to turn on his cybernetic eye, wincing at the sudden influx of data.

149 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 1/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 52 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,587.412 / 96.77253 / 253,401.623 block: -12,587 96 253,401 chunk: -783 15 7,845 facing: north (towards negative z)(1.5/5) client light: 7 (0 sky, 7 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 27/247 + 0/8

"goooood morning!" dbubs calls, over on the other side of the little nook. he's busy rummaging through barrels, perhaps trying to find some breakfast. it’s unlikely he has any food stored; when he’s hungry, he hunts, and the jungle always provides.

"mornin'," patho says, rubbing his face. he sits up- and then pauses. there are weeping vines wrapped tightly around his legs. he sighs. “dbubs, you’re doing it again.”

“what?" dbubs manages to sound surprised. "no! no, i’m not, i’m- i’m just over here, minding my own business, crafting a loom.”

“a loom,” patho repeats flatly.

“yes! for um, for banners.”

“do you even have any wool?”

“do i ha- uh, of course! yes, of course i do.”

“can i see it?”

“no. no, i- i just ate it, actually. um-”

“you ate it?”

“yeah. sorry.”

patho sighs again. he kicks the weeping vines away. "i uh, i didn't mean to be gone for so long," he says, rising to his feet. "but, you know, i- i got held up with a job."

"a job?" dbubs glances over his shoulder at patho, squinting. "what kinda job?"

patho stretches his arms above his head, hearing both his natural and mechanical shoulder joints pop. "some guys out west are tryin' to make a portal out of hels."

"a portal?" dbubs's mouth falls open. "oh, for goodness sakes- and you call me a liar!"

patho knows better than to take offense. "it's true. they've got a player who came here from another world."

"uh huh." dbubs scoffs, but he can't quite hide the anxious shimmer in his eyes. "yeah, yeah, sure... so- i mean, did you do it, then? make them a portal?"

"basically." patho shrugs. "i uh, i told them everything they needed to know, to make one."

"right. you told th- okay." dbubs nods, bites his lip. "um- you didn't stay? to see the portal? or, uh…”

patho chuckles, crossing the distance to put his arms around dbubs's waist. "nah. i mean, come on, you know me, dbubs. i'm a- i'm a hels player, through and through. what's the rest of the universe got that's better than this place, right?"

dbubs grins at that, slotting his arms through patho's. "oh, you- you're such an idiot! y'know, i uh, i've been outside'a hels before and i- um, let me tell ya, you're missing out!"

"mhmm." patho smiles even though his mask is on. he knows dbubs can tell.

"yeah! "dbubs nods vigorously. "and, uh, there's- i got a whole world that's just mine!"

"is that right?" patho rests his chin on the top of dbubs's head. "tell me about it."

"it's a beautiful world, of course. my perfect builds, i ha-"

"of course."

"- uh, hey! quit interruptin'!"

"sorry, sorry."

"i di- thank you. so i um, i built a big ol' crastle, with a- hyeugh, a sorta um, horse course... y'know, with th- with the fastest horses anyone ever saw, one-stick horses, and- and uh, everyone was really impressed…”

this won’t last forever. it’ll only be a matter of weeks, months if they’re lucky, before patho won’t be able to ignore the itch to wander again. before the comfort and familiarity of the jungle becomes unbearable. before dbubs grows so used to his presence that the jungle itself tries to overtake him, the way it has dbubs- vines and veins of red.

he’ll leave without warning in the middle of the night, while dbubs is sleeping, because trying to leave while dbubs is awake never ends well. he’ll leave without a word and try not to think about the frantic whispers he knows dbubs sends him on lonely nights, despite knowing patho will never receive them (it’s the only time he regrets fusing his communicator with his arm- but how was he supposed to know he’d hear it in his mind? how was he supposed to know that disabling the chat was the only way not to lose himself completely to the endless flood of data?)

he’ll stay away long enough for dbubs to shatter apart, losing himself to the wildness of the jungle, and come back together. he’ll wait until dbubs has recovered from his grief, so that the next time dbubs sees him there will only be joy. because no matter how many times patho hurts him, dbubs always forgets it eventually.

“… so, you see, ol’ dbubs been workin' on a new technique, using the uh. grade- uh, gradient? block palettes... to create depth. ah hah! so- so listen, now, to teacher! it all starts with the color scheme..."

this won’t last forever. so for now, patho closes his eyes and listens.

error fps t: b: tx rx c: (s) d: , pc: , pu: , ab: e: , b: , sd: p: t: error fc: xyz: / / block: chunk: facing: ( )( / ) client light: ( sky, block) biome: error: local difficulty: // (day error404 not found) sounds: 1/247 + 0/8

~*~

[theworldbrewery]

1d8 places to camp in the desert

In a shady palm oasis, surrounded by rising sand dunes. The oasis was once inhabited, based on the crumbling signs of clay buildings ringing the water, but there’s no one here anymore. At the bottom of the oasis’s clear waters, nestled in the sand, you can see a large, pitch-black egg.

Between the high walls of a slot canyon, with shafts of light shining down to the sand on which you’ve laid your camp. The narrow passage is claustrophobia-inducing, and safety is far from guaranteed; if it should rain, creatures will have little warning before a flash flood strikes.

At the foot of a sandstone arch, worn very smooth. Scratched into the stone is a phrase in Dwarvish: “Demon’s Bridge.” No fiendish aura accompanies the arch, and yet the prospect of passing directly under the arch is a chilling one. The chaparral landscape all around supplies plenty of dry brush for a campfire.

On a flat range, having followed the sign of a distant fire to the site of a group of nomads making camp. The nomads' music resonates deep over the sound of their animals. The dark sky is a perfect dome, illuminated by the brilliant glow of a million million stars; how small mortals are, by comparison!

Surrounded by saguaro cacti. All through the night, the cacti produce a faint groaning sound. In the morning it’s clear the cacti have migrated a few thousand feet west, though they never appear to be moving. If communicated to, the cacti convey that they are heading to a succulent symposium, and that neither beast nor fungus may attend.

Amid a maze of white sand dunes. In the dark of night the dunes appear blue, like ocean waves frozen in time. Sticking up out of the next dune is the buried prow of a ship, its cast bronze figurehead made to look like a spray of grasping tentacles.

In a limestone cave, sheltered from a sandstorm blowing outside. Evocative paintings and deep-worn grooves have been left upon the cave walls. The images are difficult to interpret, but they seem to involve some type of titanic, many-limbed creature emerging from the dunes.

Beside the road, within view of a fortified town. The town’s lights twinkle like stars in the distance, but its gates are shut for the night. Jackals cackle in the brush nearby, but they seem more interested in scavenging off whatever prey carcasses a traveling hunter might leave behind. Out in the open like this, however, a camp is a prime target for a robber on the road.

[bootleg-nessie]

Rating the Accuracy of Animal Names:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

Marine Iguana: 1/10. They don’t allow lizards in the military

Honey Badger: 1/10. It’s not even made out of honey

Horny toad: 0/10. First of all, this is a lizard. Second of all, I couldn’t find one that was willing to have sex with me so they must not actually be all that horny

Crabeater seal: 1/10. They don’t even eat crabs. Felt uncomfortable asking about the other kind but I’d guess probably not those either

Comb jellyfish: 4/10. Doesn’t even have hair

Hammerhead shark: 10/10. Stop killing hammerhead sharks to make hammers

Paper nautilus: 1/10. Paper would get too soggy

Red Panda: 2/10. Not a panda. More orange than red

Jellyfish: 0/10. Not even a fish, but if it were, jelly would be one of the worst things to be made out of

Electric eel: 5/10. Not an eel. Shocking, I know

Blue footed booby: 2/10. My disappointment is immeasurable. Turns out this lying sack of shit is a just a stupid BIRD

Spiny lumpsucker: 8/10. Apparently this fish is named because it has spines AND a suction cup, not because it sucks on spiny lumps

Pleasing fungus beetle: 2/10. Why would fungus be pleased by a beetle eating it? It just worked so hard to grow

Chicken turtle: 1/10. This is just a regular turtle, there are no chickens involved

Red lipped batfish: 8/10. Not a bat. Does have red lips. Also looks incredibly sexy with that makeup on

Aye aye: 10/10. Does in fact, have two eyes

Blobfish: 10/10 out of water, 1/10 in water. The blobfish gets a bad rap, it only looks like a blob because some dickhead pulled it out of its natural habitat at the bottom of the fucking ocean. You’d look pretty weird if you switched places with them too

Dik dik: 5/10 if male, 0/10 if female. This one’s pretty self explanatory

Mountain chicken: 0/10. THIS IS A FUCKING FROG. STOP NAMING ANIMALS AFTER CHICKENS!

Peacock: 0/10. It pees out of a cloaca, not a cock. Technically it doesn’t even pee either

Monarch butterfly 1/10. They aren’t even one of the species of insects that has a queen, let alone understands the concept of monarchism

Cockatiel: 0/10. They do not have teal cocks

Monkey slug caterpillars: 1/10. These are neither slugs nor monkeys, nor are they some kind of fucked up monkey/slug hybrid. Terrible name all around, the only part they got right was caterpillar

Robin: 5/10. It’s a shame this bird has to resort to thievery but we all have to put worms on the table somehow

Alligator snapping turtle: 1/10. This is not an alligator, nor does it even have the fingers to snap with

Ground squirrel: 5/10. Please don’t grind squirrels

Axolotl: 0/10. Doesn’t ask a lot. Doesn’t ask anything at all

Sea robin: 7/10 This is what happens when the land robin goes pro. This creepy fuck evolved little fingers just to steal things. Is this where fish fingers come from?

Tasmanian devil: 8/10. Much like the christian devil, cool name and way more chill than most people give them credit for. Statistically speaking, they’re far from the deadliest player on the board, but they do have the strongest bite force and won’t hesitate to use it if provoked

Water deer: 7/10. No. This is a meat deer

Star nosed mole: 7/10. Name is somewhat misleading, nose merely star shaped, and not a mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace

Paddlefish: 3/10. Too narrow to effectively be used as a paddle

Shoebill stork: 1/10. Not made of real shoes. Doesn’t pay bills either

Great white shark: 8/10. I’m inclined to agree for the most part but who came up with the name, David Duke?

Bioko drill: 0/10. At least the hammerhead shark looks like a hammer, this stupid monkey doesn’t even remotely resemble a drill

Hippo Tang: 0/10. That’s a fish, and hippos don’t even drink Tang

Bluejay: 3/10. Not actually blue, it’s just a trick of the light. I bet their real name probably isn’t even Jay either

Satanic Nightjar: 4/10. Should be called “slightly evil looking bird” instead

Tarantula hawk wasp: 1/10. Not a tarantula. Not a hawk. Starting to question if it’s even a wasp

Goblin shark: 10/10? Ever seen their jaw move? They sure are gobblin’

Nudibranch: 5/10. The nude part is accurate but it’s a sea slug, not a tree branch. Not even sure how you could possibly make that mistake

Mongoose: 0/10. No mon, it’s not a goose

Bison: 7/10. I just googled it, bison have more gay sex than straight sex so calling them bi is actually pretty accurate. Points removed because there are bidaughters too

Ram: 10/10. They sure do!

Mandrill: 2/10. They could probably be taught to use drills but I couldn’t find any research on this

Silver fox: 1/10. Silver is way too heavy of an element for an animal to be made of

Mayfly: 9/10 Yeah, they might

Fin whale: 10/10. Yep, whales have fins. Glad we cleared that up

Macaroni penguin: 1/10. They don’t eat macaroni

Horseshoe crab: 0/10. Not a crab. Doesn’t wear horseshoes either

Fangtooth: 10/10. Objectively I have to give it a 10 but this is the stupidest fucking name on the whole list. What’s next, knucklefist? Titboob?

Milkfish 1/10. If I go to your house and you offer me fish milk I’m fucking leaving

Little penguin: 10/10. Telling it exactly like it is

Spider monkey: 1/10. Was expecting a monkey with 8 limbs. Let down once again

Glass frog: 2/10. Not actually made out of glass

Hummingbird: 1/10. They can’t even hum

Centipede: 3-35.4/10. Depends on the species, very few actually have 100 legs

Millipede: 0.8-8/10. They have 800 legs at the most

Sockeye salmon: 1/10. Socks would make terrible eyes

Furry lobster: 10/10, 11/10 if that’s a fursuit

Flying fish: 4/10. Merely glides

Sailfish: 3/10. Doesn’t actually know how to sail

Blanket octopus: 2/10. Octopuses make terrible blankets

Cane Toad: 2/10. Can walk just fine without a cane