#mutuals only 🪴

[tom-whore-dleston]

In honor of hitting another milestone, I wanna spend some time with all my besties. Whether you have been here since my Hiddles days or if you just now making yourself comfy in my little space in the tumblrverse, I am grateful for every single one of you and I hope we get to have some fun and share our love for fandoms ❤️

For more information on activities to look forward to, click the Keep Reading feature 🪴

Dates: Monday, May 22 - Sunday, May 28

Rules:

Please do not interact if you are a minor, blank or ageless blog

Any asks from a minor, blank or ageless blog will be denied and blocked

This celebration is open to followers and non-followers 

There is no limit to how many asks you send but I ask that you please send one at a time

Please be patient with your response. I cannot guarantee I will respond in a timely manner however I can do my best. 

I reserve the right to deny or ignore any asks that I do not feel comfortable with or do not vibe with*. It’s nothing against you, I want to be able to protect my own peace.

Asks:

Personals: ask me anything about me and  my life on/off tumblr

Promos: share one of your creations (fanfic, art, moodboard, gif, playlist, original writing) and I will help spread the word about your amazing talents

Games: cym, fmk, wyr, smash or pass (with any hottie not listed)

Creations: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)

Mutuals only: send me your fave hottie (doesn’t need to be on list) and I will create a ship moodboard based on how I imagine your relationship with them

All the Hotties: 

My AUs

Adam Warlock x f. reader (Like Real People Do)

Fictional

Marvel

Adam Warlock

Joaquin Torres

Layla El-Faouly

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley

Gamora

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Anakin Skywalker

Other

Joel Miller

Real life

Danny Ramirez

Will Poulter

Harry Styles

*Unapproved Topics:

water sports

scat play

blood play

underage

incest

step-cest 

non-con

weapon play

a/b/o

bestiality

kids/pregnancy 

abuse of any kind

**Prompts:

Smut

Fluff

Shameless plug tags: @yummymatcha @neganwifey25-blog @wint3r-h3art @crazycookiecrumbles @buckybleu @inklore @fluffyprettykitty @psychedelic-ink @give-me-a-moose @mothdruid @hollandparkersx @frying-panties @buckets-and-trees @blackbat05

[wayward-sherlock]

wayli you are the spn mutual to me. i know jack shit about that show except november 5th 2020 but every time you post about it im like ohh 👁👁 hmmmm ......

u are also the Fanfiction Mutual to me. both bc you write the most beautiful fics to ever and also because we became friends through fanfic teehee 🫶🫶

hello bee my lovely i went through my reaction pic folder and found as many spn related reaction pics as possible for this. can you tell who my favorite character is. 😳

ANYWAYS thank u this is such a big compliment i love posting about the show that simultaneously gave me and cured me my mental illnesses. especially bc most of my mutuals follow me for byler so jumpscaring them with the fandom that half of my username is from is so lovely 💗 did not need to say this much but i always have so much to say about my boys in spn so. hehe

[neochan]

your new theme looks beautiful🥺

and i can see that you're still not over golden hour mark, same here bestie, i just can't get him out of my head

mia! thank you<33 obviously i has to dedicate it to mark bc wtf does he mean he needs a freak girl. and what does he mean he has a really big-

[yourdaddyfigure]

Plz Read Before Interacting!

This is an (18+ only) blog. Please if you’re under the age of 18 kindly show some respect and don’t follow this blog or blogs I interact with. If you enjoy my post please follow my backup @yourdaddyfigur3.

First, please I can't say this enough, DO NOT address me as Daddy. EVER. May it be in comments, messages, or even ask. Yes, I am a Daddy, but I am not YOUR Daddy.

I very much love interacting with my mutuals and following. Feel free to come chat! The best way to reach me is through an ask which is open to all.🫶🏼 I am more likely to reply to asks & anons, all I ask is you be respectful and I promise to do the same. Note I’m not interested in any sexting, so if that’s your endgame here you will be sadly disappointed. I’d rather have genuine conversations and hear about your interests instead.

If I reblog something of yours you want deleted, please message me to let me know.🫶🏼

If you’re interested in joining the “Emoji Army” you’re more than welcome to do so. There’s no obligation to do so, but the Emoji Army helps me know who’s who when answering anonymous ask. Please don’t use someone else’s emoji. Emojis already taken will be listed below.

Emoji Army:

🍄|✨|🌙|🤡|🦋|🥺|🍓🍒|🙈|🐑|🌸|🎀|🌻|❄️|🐰|🔪|🌨️🐰|🥀|🧛🏻‍♀️🐾|🐶|🖤|🫧|🧸|💜|🧚🏻‍♀️|🍒|🥺👉👈|🩸|🐉|🧁|🕷️|🧋🦇|🍑|🐭|🌪️|🦈|💫|❤️‍🩹|🍭|🐝|🦊|🐅|🦄|🐇|🌹|🫀|🐣|🩶✨|👻|🪷|♡|🤍|🌼|🐥|🐺|🧚|💌|🐙|🫦|૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა|‼️|🫰🏻|🦖|🪩|💛|💐|🤙|❤️‍🔥|🍼|🐍|🐢|🍍|🌿|🍯|🎠|🥟|🪻|🪴|🦦|🧿|💦|😽|🪽|🛀|🗝️|🐯|😈|☀️|🦉🪶|🦥|🦗|⚜|🧋|🐄|❣️|💩|🐞|🪼|👑|💕|🌷|🌞|🐁|🔮|🌅|🪬|🎃|🩷🐱|:3|🐈‍⬛|🖤😘|<3|^w^|😇|🥯|💄|🩰|\lol/|🧸🍼|👣👣|👾|💓|🌦️|🫶🏻|🎶|🌺|🔐|🎼|⭐️|🕊️|🌊|😋|👸🏻|uwu|🥀🩸|🕯️|🦔|🐖|🐹|😎👍|🧶|💚🖤🐍|🖋️|🎧|🧌|☕️|🧩|💖|🐧|🩷🧌|🐻|🎈|👀|🌝|🐰🤍|🌔|🌟☠️💜|🍓|🦇🔪|🌌|🥸|🐌|🧇|💗|🌸🫧|🪐|🍇|🫐|🩰🧸|💋|💙|🐇🌙|👋|🪦|💎|☺️|💔|🦁|🎩|🌊🐚|🩷🧡💛|🔆|🖤🕷️|👠|🍪|👓|💸|(*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)|🦩|🍜|◡̈|🐰🩹|🌹🌸|🌬️🌃|😻|(●•×•●)|🥂|🍙|🦌|🥺💞|🧞‍♀️|🫀💊|🏹|🦢|🪘|🐇💜|🌵|🧨|🧺|💃|🤎|🍣|☘️|🧚🏾‍♀️|🐾|🧠|🍁|(:|🍫|🦭🩵|🐻‍❄️|🔪💀|🦔💛🖤|🐅🖤🖤|🧜🏽‍♀️|🐸🍄|⋉|😊🤭|☁️|🩴🩴🧌|🪸🫧|🌻✨|🐶🐱|🙄|🍯🐇|🦅|🐇👑|🪢🦄|🏠|🐠💙|😸|:D|🎸|👩‍⚕️|☀️🌑|🦋🤍|🥮|🐆|🥦|🫀❣️|🪢🧜🏻‍♀️|🫧☁️|👅💦|🌊💙|💜💚🥀|🕸️|🐜|🦙|🐰💖|🥜|❤️‍🩹🥀|♈️|🍡|🌑🖤|🐼|👹|🩵🖤|💉|🐡|( ￣▽￣)|🌻🦋|🎱|♉️|🦮|💟💜💙|🧍‍♀️🐦|🍉|(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)|♑️|🍃🍄🔥|🧡💚|🧸👑|🌙🖤|🦝|🧸✨|🗺️🍫|🦁🌟|🐾🩷|💪|🃏|♒|✨️💕🍑|🖤🦋|🦋🙈🌙|🐠|444|🫨|🍒🧨|🔥🌊|🍑🪐|🥺✨|🪈🎼|🍒🫦|⚰️|🤎🫶🏼| ☆☆☆|👰🏻‍♀️|U^x^U🤘|=^.^=|🌥️|🧝🏼‍♀️|🪞|🧛‍♀️|🍑👅|🌘💜|🥀♡|🍌📞|❤️‍🔥🗡️|🐾♠️|🖤🐼|🖤💜|🖖|🦆|🥹|🖤🐈‍⬛|🟣|♐️|🧚🏻‍♀️🌷|🖤✨|⚠️💖|😶‍🌫️👍|🥵|🥰😊|♎|🫧🩷|🎮|👷🏻‍♀️|👁|🏩|🧚🏻‍♀️✨|🫶🩷|🎀🩷|IN|🌙🌸|♡♡|🩵🩷|💜🪻|🐰🕯️❄️|🐞|🦈🩵|🩻|🍀🎶|🌲|🩵🐶💛|🎀🧸|🕳️☠️🔥|🥭|🌄|💜👾💜|😇💋|🎭|🧊|🩶🐰|🦚|n.n|🧛🏻‍♀️|🦈💦|🌙🪬|📿|👹🧍🏻‍♀️|💛🖤💛|❤️‍🔥🧸|🩷✨|🦭|🌻👑|🦈💛|🐚|💠|🦋💙|💖✨|🚬💫|��|🥀🎀|🧝🏾‍♀️🧜🏿‍♀️|🌻🧸|🍒🍃|🧁|🍋🐝|👽|🖤🦇🖤|🥐|🌠|🌊🐳🌊|🌻🐴👠|ʕ•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ|👁️|⚛️|>^~^<|❄️💚|🩵|🦂|🏤|m2|🐦‍⬛|🌱|🌸🥀⛓️|🌺|🐀|🩰🦭|🍃💨🐈|🦝🖤💐|✨🍃|🎰|🎀🫧| ᕱ⑅ᕱ|🧫🔬|🩷🎀✨|😾|🐹🦄|🌵💛🌵|♀️|👩🏻🎤|💫|🎀🪻|🐺🖤|🩷|♊️🧸|♍👧🏼💚|🦴🍎🦷|🌞🪭|🪲|🦇|🗣️‼️|🍍🐸|🎒|🌸✨|🍂|

This blog will not tolerate any type of negative behavior. Be kind or leave. If you're going to be negative on my blog in any way, may it be comments, ask or messages you’ll be immediately blocked with no questions asked.

If I see any of my mutuals/following interact with any underage/minors in any capacity I’ll report and block you without a second thought.

If there’s no sign of your age in your bio or pinned post you’ll be immediately blocked. Same goes for blank blogs.

Please don’t get angry at me if I don’t respond to your messages immediately. We all have things to worry about outside of tumblr and sometimes mental breaks are very much needed. So I apologize and hope you understand, but will do my best to get to you as soon as I can.

Please respect yourself and my mutuals always!

Any post that contains sexual content or pics is in NO way an invitation to send pics or videos to my inbox. All original and reblogged content is assumed to be consensual activities among adults.

I am straight however, please note that I heavily support LGBT+🏳️‍🌈 and if you don’t, well, there’s the door.

[lilypadding]

👒 maraudersdenier Follow

sometimes to feel alive I rewatch danganronpa season 1 and 2

#idk it was peak series to me #they had the hope's peak arc going #season 3 was completely different

5 notes

🪴 soniasansflowers Follow

I can't believe the surviving casts of DR are just walking around now??? you survived a genuine killing game and now you're just waking up on tuesday and driving to starbucks to get a drink????? what???????? 

#danganronpa #scribby.txt

111 notes

🧚‍♀️ loserrrville Follow

sorry but I still think it's funny that dr2 was the only season where they revived the cast 💀

#and the only cast that deserved it was s15 but you guys aren't ready for that convo #sdr2 #dr15

42 notes

🧸 danganwrongpers Following

🎮 monokumasmilk Following

Do you guys ever think about how everyone in Danganronpa isn't even real...? We'll never know their actual backstory, especially not from their perspective. Their memories are always wiped and replaced with hijinks fabrications. And we've already talked about how everything is real to them because it's in their head, but it's not. Their memories are built on lies. nobody in this show is real. 

🧨 fdr38frontlines Follow

average danganronpa fan discovers acting

#the reblog is funny and everything but op is onto something #I've gotten so uncomfortable whenever I think about it for too long #yeah they're all consenting adults #and they signed up for it knowing what would happen #but...

23.8k notes

☁️ komaedasoup Following

remember when people got so weird about nagito and hajime hanging out (and being actual friends in interviews) that they stopped talking to each other just to avoid you freaks shipping them 😭

👤 despairinglyhopeful-deactivated

they probably stopped talking publicly not privately 👀

☁️ komaedasoup Following

THIS 💥 POST 💥 IS 💥 ABOUT💥 YOU 💥

#be NORMAL??!?!

547 notes

🍇 junkorenoshimer Follow

everyone's suddenly so obsessed with danganronpa not being "ethical" but how did you guys not realize this show is kinda fucked when that one interview with makoto came out and he literally says he got nightmares of the game and intense survivor's guilt. like the signs have always been there

🎮 monokumasmilk Following

Yet you never made a post about it until now did you?

3.1k notes

🔑 wannabekirigiri Following

KYOKO'S RED CARPET LOOK??!?!?! 😍😍😍😍😍 SOBBING AND CRYING ADN SKINNING MYSELF RUGHT NOW

#i am normal so normal so

2 notes

🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following

the things I would let hajime hinata do to me

🍡 hinatahajimeofficial Following

Okay let me run you over

🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following

HAJIME??????

#help I forgot he was real #DOES HE SCROLL THROUGH HIS OWN TAG??? 

52.9k notes

🔑 wannabekirigiri Following

all my mutuals will be very happy to know I GOT CAST FOR SEASON 53!!!!

#for legal reasons this is a joke haha 

1 note

based entirely on @okthatsgreat 's original post

[book-girl4evaaa]

✧⁠*•Bea's Greenhouse!

This is my event! Please continue adding asks, but I'm going on a hiatus for exams so I might be a while! Love you all SMMM!

- A.k.a, my 150 follower event!

Firstly thank you so so much! all of you are 10 times more awesome than me, and ily all more than words can say :) thank you!!!

Now, *attempts to clear throat but accidentally goes into a coughing fit* Onto the event!

Welcome to my greenhouse! Pick a plant of your choice and it will come with a thingy-mabob. Please send as many plants as you want, but only 1 per ask. If there is a "♡" next to an ask, it's for Mutuals only. Kindly follow the rules each. Anyways, love y'all!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡✧⁠*⁠。*⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡✧⁠*⁠。*⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡✧⁠*。<3

🍄 Amanita muscaria (mushroom)

- I'll design you a logo <3

🪴 Tracheophyta (fern) ♡

- I'll write you a poem (please give me a prompt for it lol!) <3

🌿 Hedera helix (ivy) ♡

- I'll write you an appreciation post <3

🌵Cactaceae (cacti)

- I'll recommend you a song (or a book if you want) <3

🍀Trifolium pratense (clover)

- A free pass to ask me any question (not including anything that endangers privacy) <3

💐 Tulipa (tulip)

- I'll give you an inspirational quote <3

🌴 Arecaceae (palm) ♡

- I'll make you a fantasy world <3

🪻Lavandula angustifolia (lavender)

- I'll give you a random fact <3

Anyways, that's it guys! Have a great day and please send asks, ilyyy!

~ Bea x

My intro <3

~~~

[venetianwindow]

5 lessons from my first year of university

Introduction

Recently I've been reflecting on my first year of university while mentoring younger students at my institution. Speaking with them got me thinking about what valuable lessons I took away from that crucial time. I decided to make a post about it! These are generalised advice that I hope will apply regardless of your area of study. I'm considering an architecture/design school-specific post for the future -- let me know if there is interest in that. :)

🪴 1: Know all your deadlines.

Staying on top of your assignments is vital, especially during the most hectic exam/submission periods. I suggest having a calendar to keep track of all your upcoming deadlines. Either physical or digital will work fine; I personally use a combination of both. It's also worth finding out about your deadlines as soon as possible. Your modules may provide you with a termly overview early on - if you receive this or something similar, make good use of it to plan ahead.

🪴 2: Ask questions.

There is nothing embarrassing about asking your professors/tutors when you don’t understand something! It saves you from worrying about the knowledge gap in future study sessions. Don't wait for anyone to ask -- often someone else will have the same question, but if both of you think the same and neither step up, neither of you will get an answer. Be brave, it's worth it.

🪴 3: Use all the resources at your disposal.

There are a lot of advantages to being a university student -- namely, you have a plethora of academic resources available. For one thing, make the most of your libraries as much as you can. If you're looking for a text, your university library catalogue should be your first port of call; very likely you will find it there. Similarly, get ahold of any online journals that your university account can access. Academic papers are brilliant research resources. Outside of campus, see what your university ID can get you -- apart from student discounts, it can also give you easy access to some external institutions that may hold useful resources for your studies. Find out what's available and make note of them, you never know what might come in handy!

🪴 4: Find some comradeship.

Here I am specifically speaking of making friends within your programme/course. Depending on your cohort size, this may be easier or harder. There will be times when everything piles onto you and you're busy to no end. In those moments, having comrades to continue onwards together is crucial for the basic needs of staying sane. Mutual support goes a long way, so try to build some relationships with others studying the same subject as you. As people in the same boat, they will understand your academic struggles and worries. Some may even be able to help you out and/or offer useful advice to alleviate your stress. (That being said, having friends outside of your subject can be useful when you need to destress and get away from your daily toil. A healthy mix of both is the best solution.)

🪴 5: Engage with your studies proactively.

The university experience is highly autonomous; you get as much out of it as you put in. Not only is it the first taste of independent living for many people, but it is also a time when you are fully responsible for your academic pursuits. Go out there and explore! Engage in activities outside your classes that speak to your interests in your field. Read outside your prescribed reading list. Volunteer for a charity that organises events to your tastes. If you don't know what you're most interested in yet, that's fine -- use this time to try new things and find out what that is! Being in university is a stage of life brimming with opportunities. Seek and you shall find.

Thanks for reading! 🌟

☞ studygram

[under-the-dirt]

intro/masterlist!

hihihi!! i’m livie but you can call me liv or livie!!

age: 14 (bday is sep 23 :3)

pronouns: they/them but i’m fine with she/they :3 afab

nationality: i was born in and live in america but i’m italian, german and irish!! :D i can speak a bit of italian, and my great grandmother is an italian immigrant!!

general boundaries: i hate non-con!!! no non con!! don’t send requests for non-con please!! i’m fine with consensual somnophilia but no non-con!! also, under 13 dni!!

other stuff: i’m autistic and i have a bunch of other disorders so life can be very difficult but i cope through my writing and my art!! i love getting requests and i love talking to people!! i love music sm, and i’m almost always singing and dancing!! some of my fav artists are the killers, lana del rey, the weeknd, ghost, etc!

p.s. mutuals if i ever cross a boundary when talking please tell me!!! i’m very affectionate but i tend to cross boundaries on accident!!

writing boundaries:

• i will not write non-con! never! this is for trauma related reasons and it generally disgusts me. read/write what you like, but this is where i draw the line.

• i will not write characters non-consensually groping/touching the reader. i might consider like a character protecting reader from being groped, but i generally can’t stand it. (naturally, for trauma related reasons as well)

• i will not write certain kinks/fetishes, such as foot fetishes, piss kinks or other gross kinks.

• i will never ever write illegal age gaps. never. do not ask me to write an adult with a child. do not ask for anything pedophilic. this is for obvious reasons as well as trauma related reasons.

masterlist under the cut! <3

masterlist!!

key: 🌲 = angsty 🌿 = fluffy 🪴= smutty

john price

no strings. - an ask for reader x price friends with benefits, but reader gets pregnant and leaves 🌲🌿

whispers. part one part two - barracks bunny exposes price’s little crush in front of the task force 🪴

sleeptalking. part one part two - based of Talking In Your Sleep by The Romantics, price hears reader talking about him in their sleep and their dreams become a little too real 🌿🪴

horror movies. - a request where reader and price watch a movie too scary for either of them and they can’t sleep!! 🌿

avoidance. - reader avoids price bc they’re afraid that he doesn’t like them back, and he confronts them.. 🪴 (not sure)

simon ‘ghost’ riley

phone call. part two - bf!simon fucks you while you’re otp with your best friend / bf!simon fucks you in front of your best friend 🌿🪴(def my best)

lap dog. - a fic where hybrid!reader hits ghost too much with their tail!! (no classification)

braids. - simon braids reader’s hair!! 🌿

hard to love. - reader and ghost are friends with benefits, but reader wants what simon can’t give. 🌲🪴

john ‘soap’ mactavish

water. - based on my friend bunny’s ask in their acc (aforementioned ask) where soap refuses to fuck reader and instead does it with the showerhead!! 🪴🌿

phone call. (pt. 2) - reader gets fucked by bf!simon and soap gets a special desert afterwards.. 🌿🪴

könig

distractions. - reader has a bad day at work and koko helps relieve their stress with a makeout sesh!! 🪴🌿

christmas gifts. - reader gets the boys a big dino plush for christmas!! 🌿

taskforce 141

christmas gifts. - gn!reader gets the boys a big dino plush for christmas!! 🌿

comfort. - 141 cuddles!!! 🌿

cold. - cold reader gets cuddled by all the 141 (not at the same time!!) 🌿

taglist: none

comment to be added to the main taglist! those are the only things i’ve written so far, please send asks/messages for whatever you want em to write!! i don’t tend to write things on my own <3

ily all!!!

[painless-innit-colourful]

deep green dashboard simulator for the weekend lore of the 27th Jan (for @thatfriendlyanon :) [all art is by @rozugold :)]

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

it's so funny that the papers actually worked really well and looked convincingly scary on elle's stream because over on crim's it was sweating and switching out items in the most corny way

#like bestie i'm glad it worked on the other end because it looked so bad on ours XD #tdg

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

bird song being in the deeply weird playlist makes me very, VERY nervous now, just saying

#katy talks #the deep green

🪽 waxelytra Follow

new Sisyphus skin (black bars are not intentional)

🪨 sisyfish Follow

can we talk about how sneaky the switch was?? even watching their face cam I had NO IDEA that was coming

#especially with the nightmare they were apparently having lmao #get it crim the show must go on #the deep green

🍄 thereisafungus Follow

crim's on-camera acting makes me yell, what do you mean they keep looking at their palm or touching their hand when they're nervous, you can't do this to me

#tdg #crim sisyphus #CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

being a crim-only viewer is so funny 'cause the mutuals have been talking about kore's backstory clues for literally months and sisyphus has only stumbled onto that story today because icarus literally dragged them into looking at it

because they've spent the best part of the last three months in a CAVE

🌺 bringerofhorses Follow

become a rozu viewer, see the sun

🪨 sisyfish Follow

I rather like this cave actually

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

I didn't know Sisyphus had a tumblr

🌱 thedeepestgreenestplace Follow

you can't trust a single thing I say

#tdg #crim sisyphus #elle icarus #my art #tdg fanart #they..........

🪨 sisyfish Follow

can we STOP with the baseless accusations that the massacre was planned AGAIN PLEASE. everyone on the server has stated multiple times that it was an accident by crim and then plot from it started there. it was not pre-planned. this comes up every time there's major lore and I'm so sick of it

🌱lussssshcave Follow

I'm also sick of seeing ppl speculate crim did it intentionally. look at their face in that moment

yes they're a good actor, but this is clearly the face of someone who's just made a huge mistake

🪨 sisyfish Follow

it honestly makes my blood boil that anyone would suggest crim would do something like that for content. grow up

#they literally have asked what buildings and things they can destroy in lore and respected that #stop starting stupid drama based on nothing #massacre discourse #tdg neg

🪴bloomingstrangely

all I'm saying is, it looks like blood…

#tdg fanart #crim sisyphus #elle icarus #tdg

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, icarus has teleported into the cavern!

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, grond has teleported into the cavern (and they have both been killed in there)

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, the marking has appeared! it's horrifying

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, sisyphus has told grond about the cavern

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, sisyphus has confessed to burning the trees! (accidentally :/)

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, they are looking at the other kore lore book

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, icarus & sisyphus are in the cavern together!

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

so, uh. a lot happened today

#i did not anticipate it going this far #tdg

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

everytime crim shares secrets with jason before elle I want to throttle them. in the good way

🍂waydownunderthe Follow

I could fix them, but whatever it is they're currently doing is far more interesting

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

letter from thalia saying "forgive yourself", marking on face looks like blood, sisyphus almost told icarus the truth about the cavern but decided against it last second, there are papers appearing in sisyphus' house that say "you know what you did", sisyphus keeps muttering "why won't it work?" in the cavern??

GANG I DON'T LIKE THIS

#the deep green

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

"I thought you were good" / "I already ruined everything" / "the only option is to do whatever it takes to protect yourself and the ones you love"

crim's saying something very interesting here about sisyphus' internal philosophy but I can't quite work out what it is

#where is this Going #tdg

🪻theshallowgreen Follow

every time icarus reaches out and sisyphus pulls away I want to scream

#they make me ILL

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

NEW PLAYLIST ALERT

#glad to see someone's as mentally ill about them as we are #also whooo official duo name!! #the deep green

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

we already have a stream confirmed for next saturday, icarus hasn't come back to check on the papers situation yet, rozu is confirmed to be coming on, crim said last night 'it will get worse before it gets better'

#the deep green #lord help us all

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

nice

#tdg

🪨 sisyfish Follow

sisyphus shoring up the alliance with grond the other night

#i love these two they're absolutely as bad as each other #politics duo ftw #tdg

🪽 waxelytra Follow

elle admitting she wasn't nessecarily thinking in character for the your obedient servant situation is so funny like. this stuff always happens in rp and it's so hard to work around later but it's made worse by crim's inability to take any situation lightly ever

#calm down always in character give her a break i BEG #the deep green

🪴bloomingstrangely

anxious bird & wet cat

🪴bloomingstrangely

WAIT CAT AND BIRD HMM

#this is not a manifesting moment apollo dni #someone pointed it out in the tags and i wanted to yell #tdg

[goldenpinof]

The fact that looking into technical failures to understand the businesses we are patronizing (and let's be clear every bit of money sent DnP's way means you Are Doing Business With Them in the literal sense) is far from negativity aside... I don't think we should have a knee jerk reaction against anything negative being said as a rule, because that's how you end up platforming and pedestialising horrible things just because your favourite celebrity does them. Like, we need to bring back an understanding of when negativity is "uncalled for" (to do with things that are none of our business as consumers, audiences, and patrons, or otherwise to do with personal/harmless stuff) and when it isn't uncalled for, otherwise we create an expectation of just never being allowed to criticise anything, from the quality of the works presented to us, to quality of service with merch, to collabs with harmful partners, and eventually to misuse of a massive platform for nefarious ends.

Thankfully dnp have had way more integrity than most exploitative content creators out there. But that's certainly in part due to mutual respect between audience and creators and if we start hand wringing about small criticisms we will not be able to maintain that mutual respect and make ourselves easy to exploit.

Not to go on a big rant or anything, I just feel it should be stated that criticisms aren't always bad faith, and it's good that we have people in this fandom (like yourself ❤️) willing to hold some stuff to account where it's important+ where it concerns us directly

~ 🪴

"let's be clear every bit of money sent DnP's way means you Are Doing Business With Them in the literal sense" EXACTLY. and their business decisions affect us, unfortunately.

thank you so much for saying all of this, Hazel. phandom has a weird relationship with criticism. i experienced it more than once, unfortunately (did it teach me anything? no, i'm still here. rip to my mental health). for some reason a lot of people think that if you criticise what dnp do, you automatically criticise and dislike them as people. which couldn't be further from the truth. i try to criticise their work and actions related to their work, not them personally. the same goes for Matryn and his work. and if in the end something gets fixed or just a little bit better, i try to comment on that as well. i like seeing progress. like today with wad merch. i will update my post about irl merch, because i mentioned 9 months to gather the merch from all over the world. but Dan found other way, and that's great! only he confused us with "many weeks" and "i will try" before that.

i realise that maybe a breakdown post (or two) would be better than making 10 about basically the same thing. it's emotions. merch stuff is a rollercoaster. i haven't felt so many completely opposite emotions in a long time. and some of them are ending up on my blog in a form of criticism and yelling.

[mixx0]

NEGATIVE 974 REF SHEET

INFO:

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💙 This kiddo even being a bug hunter ( Elliot is a bug lover , investing them ) but Toille is not the kind of a "lover" is more of a HATER of bugs hunting & k1ll1ng them

💚 Never love/care people always hurting people just for fun and only for obligation , also HATES to making friends or talk with people who doesn't know if you come to they oh..will destroy you completely ( except Sial who tolerates a lil hm ) but is more aggressive with Anaul/Yllaw & Eiggam

🖤 Before have a bug pet when goes to the dnk but after something goes good to very very bad . ( k1lls it accidentally just bc was bored :/ )

💔 If They hate being here Why they're here? ( bc fun? forcing? so why? )

.

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.

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.

🪴 Sometimes can control someone who covers but is impossible for that , tries to being calm unfortunately It's hard cuz the only thing who does is hurting people just needed something to being comforted , but never is going stop to following/seeing you.

Doodles :3/// :

( the ref sheet & info inspired in mutuals :]

[tom-whore-dleston]

Hello love!

Congrats on the amazing milestone!!!💜😀 I’ve been meaning to send you an ask and finally got to it!

Can I have a mutuals only with our precious himbo Adam Warlock?🤭

More asks may come soon!🫢

Mutuals only: send me your fave hottie (doesn’t need to be on list) and I will create a ship moodboard based on how I imagine your relationship with them

I picture you and Adam as the type of couple that enjoys doing outdoor activities such as tennis, picnics and roller blading in a skating rink or along the beach. Other days, you both will read each other your favorite books and walk around your local bookstore to look for new stories to fall in love with 🥰

join the celebration!

[panecitotulipan]

Nombres

Miguel O'Hara/reader

Find the rest of chapters here!

Notes:

Nombres (names). A bit of touched starved attitude in a closer interaction for the characters, that's all. And a reminder that is not suggestive. Reblogs are appreciated. 🐀🪴

۝ᬼᬃ᭄ᭃᬼ᭄᭄ᬽ ⃢🥀

The 2099 got used to your presence in his 'office', resulting in more frequent chats, reaching a point of mutual comfortability where not-about-the-multiverse topics could come to the surface and be discussed once in a while.

۝

That time you were talking with the big man about some of the Petters' work while sitting on a wall, your head a bit higher than his. When he asked something unexpected.

–Do you actually know the name of any of us?– It genuinely sounded like a serious question.

You blinked, making a pause for thinking.

–Uh…yeah. Kinda, or maybe not.– 

–Those are way too different answers.–

–I am not the best with names.–

–So that's why you call everyone by stupid nicknames.–

–You could say so.–

–Do you even know my name?– The 2099 placed his hands on his hips, not expecting much.

–I remember it is a name way too common between spanish speakers…Juan, maybe?– You raised your shoulders helplessly, faking of course, but this guy didn't get the joke.

–No, try again. But I guess you can say it is common indeed.– His severe eyes were deeply nailed on your whole face or specific pupils, you couldn't tell.

–You have no idea how many Josés I've heard of.– A smirk was visible on your lips, while your gaze slowly fell to the floor. You were playing with him at this point.

–Starts with "M". Try harder.–

You lifted your head back up to his face. Asking in a gasp. –¿Te llamas José María?– 

–¿Qué? ¡No!– The 2099 covered his face with a hand in disappointment. –¡Miguel, it's Miguel!–

–Ah…sí, I already knew. I know everyone's names.– Despite keeping a serious voice tone all along, you couldn't avoid the feeling of an inner nervous giggle.

–Do you expect me to believe th–

–Miguel O'Hara, Spiderman 2099 from the Earth-928.– Cutting him off, the rush for clearing up the situation was notable. It wasn't figurative, you did know the names, wanting to use them was a whole different story.

O'Hara remained silent for a moment.

Crossing your arms across yourself, you strongly wished for him to say something.

He cleared his throat.

–If you know it so well, then call me by my name just like everyone else.– The sentence was spoken while looking into your eyes. This man seemed somehow…softer than usual.

–Okay, Miguel.– It came out as a weak mutter from your mouth.

After a few seconds of flying thoughts, you caught yourself meticulously scanning Miguel's whole face, when you found a hair out of place on his forehead.

–Even though it's common, I've always liked that name,– While automatically talking, your hand raised to brush Miguel's hair backwards. He flinched in confusion at first, then paralyzed when you actually touched him. Only a blurred "Ahhm" was audible from his throat. –Miguel…– Your fingers innocently followed the movement through his locks until meeting the back of his head, when O'Hara took a step back, freeing himself from the touch. Too invasive, you didn't think it through. Idiot. 

–Your hair was out of place, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Fixing people's hair or clothes was a normal gesture to me. Sorry.– Good thing that you knew how to keep your tone calm and steady, because the over-explanation was enough to made you look pathetic already. 

–Está bien, está bien.– Miguel nervously cleared his throat and rapidly put himself together.

–Como decía,– He made a short pause so he could switch back to english. –As I was telling you, [...]– The conversation took the course it originally had, with the little difference of your leg discreetly shaking while the rest of his explanation.

۝ᬼᬃ᭄ᭃᬼ᭄᭄ᬽ ⃢🥀

Note: Little nerdy detail, the narration never uses "Miguel" before he asked you to call him by his name. This applies to the rest of the chapters and this is an actual narrative resource to make a chronological development between how the reader comes emotionally closer to Miguel? Yes it is, or at least that's what I want to do. Am I overexplaining? Yes of course.

[matthewkniesys]

claire's 1k follower celebration

so somehow, in some way i have 1000 of you following me!! it feels so crazy to think that, that many people like my content enough to follow me. and 1k is a lot of people. so i just wanted to say thank you. from the bottom of my heart this genuinely means so much to me. i love each and everyone of you!!

i wanted to do a fun little celly so here we are!

rules:

only one request per ask but you can send as many requests as you want they just have to be on separate asks

please make sure you include the little emoji that represents what kind of ask you are send as it makes it way easier to sort my inbox

have fun!!

dates: july 9th - july 30th

who i write for

my au's ( you can use these for blurb requests, ig edit requests and thoughts)

lucky number 8 au

matt boldy x newhook!sister

luke hughes x zegras!sister

trevor zegras x famous singer!reader

a summer thing au with jack hughes

🍄 blurbs - send me a prompt request from one of these lists and i'll write you a short blurb (max 3 prompts per one request)

prompt list #1 (angsty)

prompt list #2 (dialogue)

prompt list #3 (fluff)

prompt list #4 (protective)

🪴 ig edit - pick a player/ one of my au's and send a theme and i'll make a short ig edit for it

🌵moodboards - send me a player/au and i'll make a moodboard for them OR send me a little about yourself and i'll make you a moodboard

🌴 spotify numbers - send me a number between 1-673 and i'll tell you what song that is on my liked songs playlist

🌿 song association - send me this and i'll pick a song i associate you with (moots only)

☘ cym (cast your mutuals) - send me this and a theme and i'll cast my mutuals (ex: cym as favourite movies)

🪻fmk (fuck,marry,kill) - send me three players, actors, singers, characters, whoever and i'll play fmk

🌷song lyrics - send me a song you like and i'll tell you my favourite lyric

💐song battle - send me 2 songs and i'll pick which i like better

some amazing moots that i love so much (if i forgot to tag you i'm so so sorry): @nicohischierz @hvghes @waysicouldhave @hhughes @just-another-lovesong @1-800-iluvhockey @studsccsnackavoybambi @drysdalesv @drei-mrssvechii @bitchinbarzal @locklylemybeloved @honorarycallowaysister @loveofmygracie @tisthedamnseasns @sweetestdesire @6thomas @nicojackl0v3r @hischierhaze @corneliaskates @cobrakaisb @alextturcotte @2manytabsopen @jimmy-snuggs @lvrzegras @jackhues @sydnikov @youunravelme @jamiesdrysdale @svechnikovvv @yankstrash @qhughes43 @estapaluv @snugglebug-92

[hellolovers13]

💟I Hope We Never Change💟

Harry/Louis | E | 13k | genderfluid harry, angst, canon compliant, gender dysphoria

“I just wanted to try how it feels.” “The clothes?” Niall asked. Harry nodded. “Is that, that's too weird right, I shouldn't-” “Hey, stop it. I told you already, it's not weird. It's just how you feel. That's okay. You can try whatever you want, okay. And you can always, always talk to me. Remember that.” or Harry is confused about everything, so is Louis. At least they have Niall.

🎄Every Snowflake Is Different (Just Like You)🎄

Harry/Louis | E | 20k | meet cute, genderfluid harry, christmas fic

Turns out, getting snowed in with your not quite One-Night Stand wasn’t actually that bad. But the snow wouldn’t last forever. Was there a chance for love even after the snow had melted?

👄Slow Hands👄

Harry/Niall Harry/Louis | E | 3k | smut, genderfluid harry

“Wait. So when you say you’re genderfluid, that means sometimes you’re a girl, right?” “Uh, yeah.” “So when I asked what you’d do if you were a girl and you said ‘Niall’. Does that apply now?”

🪴Unplant🪴

Harry/Louis | M | 4k | strangers to lovers, trans harry

Please do not disturb my plant She needs 2 hours of sunlight a day and I live in a sunless flat I’ll be back to collect her soon Thank you and stay well. or Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

🥀play pretend🥀

Harry/Louis | T | 1k | trans harry, gender dysphoria, depression, implied self harm

just a bad day for him for her

🩷His and Hers🩵

Harry/Louis | T | 1.8k | trans harry, canon compliant, fluff, tiny bit of angst

It's just a blanket, it shouldn't make Harry freak out like this

🏳️‍⚧️Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t)🏳️‍⚧️

Harry/Louis | E | 13.6k | trans harry, famous/non-famous au, fangirl harry, angst, falling in love

Falling in love with Louis is easy enough. Separating Louis from the singer persona Harry has been a fan of for years, however, is not. But she's not the only one making assumptions.

👗Secret Moments👗 (First Part of the She Series)

Harry | G | 1.7k | trans Harry, gender things, gender euphoria

Harry's first dress.

🫂The Truth In Me🫂 (Second Part of the She Series)

Harry & Zayn | G | 1.1k | trans Harry, coming out, harry & zayn friendship

Harry is ready to come out to her best friend.

💄Hold On Tighter💄 (Third Part of the She Series)

Harry | G | 1.4k | trans Harry, coming out, angst & feels

Harry finally has the house to herself again. Or so she thought.

✒️What's In A Name✒️

Harry/Louis | T | 2.6k | Soulmate AU, Trans Harry, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed. But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.

[eupheme]

Coming Up Roses - Part 1

playlist | roses | manor

Alfred Pennyworth x Gardener!Reader

Rated E - 5.5k

Tags: age difference (implied 30s/50s), semi-boss/employee relationship, dislike-to-lovers (starting off on wrong foot), opposites attract, mutual pining

Summary - As the new groundskeeper at the recently-restored Wayne Manor, you certainly have your work cut out for you. But you soon realize that the garden isn’t the only thing that might blossom during your stay.

(Written for / inspired by this request by @narnianaos 🪴💕)

For the first few days - weeks actually - you were quite certain he disliked you.

Or had at best, a solidly neutral or dismissive opinion, still irritated about you being here. Perhaps there had been another candidate. Perhaps he thought you couldn’t handle the scope of the work.

Or maybe, it’s just you. Not used to the type of man he is - stern-faced, crisply dressed. So unlike the farm girl that still lingered inside you, despite the fact you were grown-up now.

Determined to find fault in him, therefore deciding he must find the same in you.

Whatever it was - it had you on unsure footing with the older man, ever since you moved in to the Manor.

But as you think about it, perhaps it had started earlier than your arrival. The interview. There had been an ad, funnily enough in the newspaper - you had almost missed it.

… Estate seeking experienced gardener to maintain grounds. Immediate opening, client and salary to be discussed at interview. Candidates please forward resume, cover letter, and portfolio to the following postal box…

There hadn’t been a physical address listed, but something in you knew. You had kept an eye on the larger dwellings, and the Manor had been widely discussed when it was purchased half a year ago.

The ad had seemed so - antiquated. You wondered if you were the only one who had applied, and maybe that’s why you had heard back.

A man had called - his English accent clipped and polished when he spoke to you over the phone. Asking you the basics as you stumbled over your resume, before requesting an in-person interview for the following afternoon.

The master of the house would be out, he told you, and you understood you were being vetted - not unusual, when you had been given the address.

But, he had not been out, as you had been told. You had met the man on the phone, Mr. Pennyworth, the next day, at 3 o’clock on the dot.

He was handsome, nearing the end of middle-aged with his silver-streaked beard, neatly styled hair. Greeting you politely, as you followed him into a sitting room, going over your qualifications again.

The meeting interrupted as you were half-way through a list of certifications when the door opened, a younger man slipping in.

Bruce Wayne.

You knew of him, everyone in Gotham did. He had been akin to a ghost for years, keeping out of public eye. No more than rumors, the occasional photo.

And then, after the flood - he had materialized again.

You had caught the flicker of annoyance at being interrupted, the slightest hesitance as the rhythm of the conversation was thrown off. Mr. Wayne had shook your offered hand, ignoring the resume offered to him by the other man.

He had asked you just four questions.

Did you enjoy what you did? Yes, of course.

What was your favorite flower? A moment, before you answered. Hydrangeas. Peonies. Gardenias.

Why? Another pause. You could go into their characteristics, or say something about what makes them so unique, so pretty. But, the truth had slipped out.

They remind me of home.

Thank you, he had said. When can you start?

There had been a sound of protest - a low hum of disapproval from the older man. But Mr. Wayne had ignored it, looking to you for your answer.

With the salary, you couldn’t pass it up.

You had started the next week.

They had sent someone to collect your things - it would be easier for all if you moved in. Your current home was within the city limits, your commute would be unreasonable with the hours you were interested in, the amount of work and care needed.

And then suddenly - you were there.

You had run into him again, once the boxes were settled in your room. The lodgings prepared were pretty, located on the ground floor - decorated in neutral shades of pretty cream and beige. French doors that opened right into a little courtyard garden.

Space had been given for a while - a few hours as you arranged your things, peered out the glass panes in the doors to get an idea of the grounds, where the sun hit.

There had been a tour, of course - a quick walk through the massive hall, the excursion slowing when you got outside. But you still were eager to poke around yourself. To dig in, you could say.

A curt knock echos from the frame of your door, your eyes rising from where you were sitting - lining up your worn sneakers and work boots on the bit of tile near the doors.

Mr. Pennyworth, waiting for you to rise and walk over, before he talks you through more of the basics.

That you won’t be responsible for the lawn (which you are eternally grateful for - it would take your hours to mow).

That your hours will be your own, you may work whatever you wish as long as the garden and grounds are maintained.

That you may hire help whenever needed, provided the companies were approved by him in advance.

This one gave you pause, making you wonder. You assumed he was caretaker of the house - butler, or similar - but there was an implication he was more.

But these were all agreeable, and you let him know you understood.

He lingers, hand still tucked behind his back, before withdrawing - holding a black card.

“You can use this to purchase anything you need for the grounds.” Mr. Pennyworth tells you, “Just turn in your receipts at the end of the month for bookkeeping.”

You take it - the briefest moment before he lets go, before you curl your fingers around it. Such a small thing but it felt so heavy in your hand.

“Thank you.” You tell him, and you smile, “I’ll take good care of it.”

His own face barely changes, a calculated look - the press of his lips that could barely pass as perfunctory smile, “Please see that you do. Welcome to Wayne Manor, miss.”

The next day, you’re up with the dawn. The sky streaked golden over the tree line, something you hadn’t seen often when working in the city.

Dew clinging to your grass-stained gym shoes as you step off the terrace, deciding to map out the space with a walk first.

The grounds are bare, but vast. It takes a considerable amount of time to walk the perimeter, and for a moment it truly feels like you’re alone - and not just a stone’s throw from Downtown.

You come back, brimming with ideas - scratching down ideas in a teeny notebook that you shove into your back pocket, a pencil tucked behind you ear.

Another day passes and then another - photos and screenshots of perennials filling your phone, as you crouch down to check the grass, the soil.

The estate is pretty. Close to a blank slate, and you can’t wait to leave your mark. Even with the prickle on the back of your neck, the feeling that you’re been watched.

You suppose you are - you’re sure your wanderings might look strange. It’s only a few hours later, as you’re making a list of your first official purchases, that you get an idea of who those eyes belong to.

Mr. Pennyworth.

You’re still not sure of his role at the Manor, other than he seemed to know everything that was going on. Mr. Wayne had hired you and contacted you directly with the offer, but you had the feeling that any of your mundane questions should be directed towards the older man.

Part of you hoped there weren’t many you’d have to bother him with. Something about him makes your stomach flutter - and even now you think you see his silhouette in bay window near the kitchen.

He seemed achingly polite - when he wasn’t going over things with a critical eye - but so serious. Face always stern, especially with the scar that splits his brow. A neat beard framing lips that often pressed together, hands clasped neatly behind his back.

And those eyes were always watching.

It becomes more obvious when you really begin working, putting your personal touch on some of the areas. Letting them flow into each other, setting up paths that take you from the terrace, out past the gardens, the small fountain feature you’ll be fixing up.

Today, you’re working just outside the kitchen, screwdriver in hand as you fix the final bit of netting into place on your current project.

You’re still sitting when you see him - wandering out, pausing at the edge of the first raised garden bed. He bends to observe it, a hand gripping the edge of the wood, giving it a tug. Testing its sturdiness.

It’s something you’ve seen before, in the decade of work since you graduated. The inspection - a flash of annoyance curls in your guts. You’re clearing your throat, and he’s looking up.

The prickle grows when his face remains impassive, another sweep over the edge, the dovetail joints you carefully fitted together.

“This is good craftsmanship.” He says this out loud, hand running over the sanded wood.

Normally this bit of praise would’ve been coveted, secretly treasured - if not for the way he frowns, before moving onto the next. It has you trying to tell if he thinks it was purchased, if he’s wondering about the cost.

“Thank you.” Your reply is a little curt, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel embarrassed. The briefest moment, before you clarify, “I made them.”

Your palms have the blisters to prove it, and you wince as your hands unconsciously curl into fists.

Unprofessional, you tell yourself - as you try to recover, “I was thinking of filling them with fresh herbs, since the kitchen is right there. Rosemary and basil would smell really nice, too.”

He blinks at you, the frown deepening, “Rosemary is out of season.”

Unbelievable. You can’t hold back the little scoff, purposely turning back to your work.

You don’t know what his problem is. And even worse, you’re not sure why you care. Those thoughts swirl, your wrist twisting the screwdriver harder than necessary, making the blisters ache even more.

When you finally glance back - he’s gone.

The foundation of the garden just outside the terrace is just about complete. It had taken days of clearing out weeds, repairing the stone that made up the border for the flower beds.

Setting up the seedbeds with fresh soil, going over your sketched plans again for the hedging that would follow the cobblestone paths. Marking the points of the stone wall where you’re hoping to guide the curling ivy.

You have notes on what flowers to get, what was commonly used by families in this area. There had been nothing - in terms of preference - from Mr. Wayne or Mr. Pennyworth. Both a blessing and a curse, in your opinion.

Snapdragon, tulips, wisteria.

Dahlias, you add to yourself. And hm, what else?

There’s the sounds of footsteps behind you, the tap of a cane over the stone terrace. You’re still standing at the bottom edge of the steps, hands resting on your hips as you picture the space.

The noise stops, a number of steps up from where you’re standing. You glance over your shoulder and he is there, hands folded over the brass handle as he looks out over the balustrade.

“It appears that you’re getting there.” He says in greeting, his eyes completing the circuit of the garden, before returning to yours, “You’ve done a lot with this space.”

Your fists tighten just a hair, your smile polite.

His eyes returning to the space, as he asks, “What will you be planting?”

With a finger pointing, you fill him in. Your words more animated at first, slowly dying off as his face remains serious, fingers running across his beard.

Not knowing why you had been hoping to impress him - unable to help the slightest bite in your tone as your arms cross, “Would you prefer something else?”

He looks surprised at that - shaking his head, “Not at all, just merely curious.”

A long beat of silence, before he adds, “I used to care for this garden. A lifetime ago.”

It’s the most he’s ever talked to you, outside of the interview, your first day here. Again, you regret your words - softening, hoping he doesn’t see the guilt that flits across your features.

“What happened?” You can help but ask. When he glances at you, you clarify, “Why aren’t you, now?”

His hand slips into the pocket of his trousers, as he looks out across the grounds, “My time has long been required elsewhere. But-”

His words trails off.

But he enjoyed it. Or - he missed it, it’s hard to tell, but it’s written in his wistful expression.

You think about that a lot.

The sense of ownership that you yourself had felt, at the completion of a job. Irritation and a sort of hurt flaring at one, when you had seen it online - when it was clear that things had been changed, and for the worse.

There wasn’t even a personal connection then - like there clearly was, here.

A bit of you defrosts, warming in the summer sun.

Your words quiet as you ask, “What did you like? What was your favorite part?”

There’s a moment, where you think he doesn’t hear you. But then, he’s moving - coming down to stand beside you, his shoulder so close to yours that they’re almost brushing.

"I had a line of rose bushes, just here." He gestures, to the edge of the stone stairs as they curve down to the path.

A moment, as he reminisces. The memory taking him back to all those years ago.

“Yes. I think those were my favorite."

You blink, waiting for more. Roses. That's like saying your favorite dessert was just ice cream - surely he'd have more for you then just that.

"What kind?" You prompt, and he's glacing sideways at you. As if he had forgotten for a moment who you were, that he could tell you, that you'd understand.

"Oh. They were English shrub roses."

"Pretty." That makes you smile, as he obliges in your prodding, "David Austin?"

"Yes, though more from Kordes, back then." His eyes brighten at your question, "Though I enjoyed Austin's Darcey Bussell, when I could find them."

Classic shape, a perfect rosette. A light fragerance mirrored in the layers of soft, carmine petals. It suits him.

Your smile widens, "Ah. I was always a Benjamin Britten kind of girl."

Curving, cupped petals - thin as crepe-paper. A soft, salmony pink that fades as spring turns to fall. You always had loved how it looked, fighting the urge to bury your nose right into the middle.

"Equally stunning. We had those as well." He smiles back, the expression softening all his sharp edges.

It’s a small thing.

No more than the first budding of a branch, when winter melts spring.

But it’s there.

You plant them yourself.

It takes you a full day to track them down - even longer for them to arrive. They sit now, grouped together in their plastic pots, next to the curved edge of dirt along the wall.

You could hire someone to dig the holes, line them up themselves. Skip the aches and pains of handling the bushes with their twisting branches and biting thorns.

But that would take time.

And you’re impatient.

Tugging on gloves, measuring the distance - allowing space for them to grow and flourish over the years.

Fingers pricked, scratches up and down your arms as you finish - as you comb through the new rose garden for the perfect one, trimming the stem and dethorning it carefully.

Bringing it inside, unsure exactly what you’re going to do with it - until you see it.

The small wooden nook set into the wall, just outside the closed door of his room. Holding a dial-up phone, you think, some years ago.

You find a vase in the kitchen. Filling it carefully, setting it into the nook. Spending just a little too long arranging the single rose - fluffing up the petals.

It makes you smile. To do this small thing.

The next morning, your rose is gone. The vase still there - empty. It prickles at you, like the thorns you had so carefully trimmed from the stem.

A frown still on your brow as you sit near the front door; lacing up your boots. It’s there that he finds you, today’s mail in his hands, halting when he sees you.

“Thank you.” He tells you, hovering for just the briefest of moments.

“You’re welcome.” You answer, feeling like he wanted a response - tacking on a clumsy “sir” at the end, as a sort of apology for your own impoliteness.

His face flickers, something you don’t understand passing over his features, “Just Alfred. Please.”

Before you can answer, he’s gone, disappearing down one of the halls.

You never find out what happened to the rose. But you start to leave one for him, every day. Each one disappears, like the first - but it becomes an unspoken ritual.

And slowly, something starts to grow.

From the way the sun beats down on your back, your clothes soaking in the rays, warm to the touch - you know it's officially summer.

Skin tacky with sweat, the back of a hand swiping over your brow as you squeeze the last of the water from the old bottle.

Leaving it on the bit of patio that connects to the left wing, as you head back out to where you've overseeing the small orchard being put in - in a patch of bare, sunny lawn that's just been waiting to be filled.

You'll get it later.

For this installation, you had called in some help. The thought of digging a dozen holes - even for dwarf trees - sounds too exhausting for a day like today.

But you can certainly delegate, and the company was on the approved list from Mr. Pennyworth - Alfred - as you have been reminding yourself.

You've worked with them before, and you're in the dirt with them. Showing them the plans, meaursing the distance between each one. Grouping them carefully so that they'll pollinate - varieties of heirloom apples and pears. Peaches, at the edges, and you're already dreaming about sinking your teeth into one.

Together, thankfully, it goes quickly. Everyone working to beat the heat, to wrap up early.

When later comes - when the saplings are standing tall in their neat little rows - you're regretting not filling that bottle. The walk inside to the kitchen seems like miles away. You're thinking about just taking a sip from the hose, as the edge of the concrete comes into view.

But you pause, when you reach the spot where you left the bottle. Sitting on the corner, definitely empty.

Because it's not sitting by itself anymore, and it’s cool to the touch when you pick it up. Filled to the brim with ice, and you're bringing it gratefully to your lips without a second thought.

Too busy letting the water slosh down your throat to think too deeply about how or why. Eyes dropping when you finally lower your bottle to see what sits next to it. A glass of lemonade with a coaster on top, weighed down with a pretty pebble.

The glass beads with sweat, a puddle darkening the concrete as you lift it. This part makes you wonder, if maybe it had been left by one of the workers today. But you're certain the glass is from the Manor, that you had seen it before in the kitchen.

Maybe it’s from one of the day staff that you had befriended?

You tell yourself you'll ask around, as the the bright punch of lemon invades your senses when you lift the coaster. It's the perfect blend, leaning towards tart over sweet. The cup jostling against your lips as you sit down, a sticky drop running down your chin, leaving a cool path behind.

It's the best you've ever tasted.

And you savor it, until the glass is empty, and the sun starts to dip below the tree line.

Afterwards, you stay in the shower for too long, not even minding when the water goes chilly.

Deciding to drop off the invoice before you take a much-needed nap before dinner, bare feet padding down the carpet runners in the long, arched hallways.

Peeking in the open doors of the rooms he frequents, looking for him. Steadily ignoring the little jolt of your heart the second before you peek in - the following dip that comes after.

You run into some of the other staff as you check - two girls that are older than you, but act a decade younger with their smiles and giggles hidden behind their hands.

They are… sweet - chatty, but sweet, and you hate to be dismissive but you really don't have the energy to chit chat today.

But they take your little wave as an invitation, coming to a halt as you grow level with them. Unable to help noticing the way your eyes flick into the side room, before you turn back and smile.

"You looking for someone?" The older of the two - Emma - asks.

There's the briefest hestiance as you consider your options. It is a big manor, you still feel like you get lost sometimes. Maybe asking for help would speed up your journey to bed.

"Yes, actually." You shift, arms crossing over your chest, "Um, have you seen Alfred around?"

They both blink at you, a small frown forming on the second girl - Christine's - face. Until they glance sideways at each other, the smallest of smiles forming.

"Oh, I think I saw Mr. Pennyworth in the kitchen." She replies, said in a tone that makes you wish you hadn't asked.

Emma, the kinder of the two, shakes her head, “He was there earlier."

She turns to you, "I saw him heading towards the left wing just an hour ago. Have you checked the study?"

You hadn't, and you shake your head.

Already starting to inch around them trying to smile gratefully, "Thank you, I'll check there. I have some paperwork for him."

Leaving them giggling and your face feeling warmer than usual as you make your way down the hall, past the ballroom. When you peek in there, it's just to see it - the restored splendor, gilded in creams and golds.

The door is cracked open when you arrive. You slip the paper from where you have it folded, tucked in the waistband of your leggings. Trying to flatten it against your thigh, work out some of the wrinkles, before the back of your knuckles rap on the wooden frame.

His voice follows a moment later.

"Come in."

So you do, easing the door open as you slip inside. The window is cracked open, letting in some of the warmth, the smell of the breeze.

The air in here is fresh, like linens and the sharp tang of citrus, and you wonder idly if the room had been recently cleaned.

Alfred hunches over the heavy, wooden desk, his pen scratching over a pad - a printing calculator set just off to the side. There’s a pair of dark-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and it makes your stomach do another one of those little flips.

They suit him, and you wonder why he doesn’t wear them more often. They look, they look-

But then you’re catching yourself - worrying that he will look up, find you staring at him, so you let your eyes drift through that window that’s been cracked open.

Seeing the bit of garden from his view, enclosed by a curving, low cobblestone fence. Further out, you can just see the last row of trees you had worked on, their tips glittering in the wind, the sun reflecting off the glossy leaves.

It's a pretty view, but you’re already wondering if you can make it better.

You're brought out of your thoughts with the sound of your name, paired with a distracted, "How may I help you?"

When you glance his way, he's looking at you expectantly, and you think - perhaps almost wistfully - and your face heats again at the thought of intterupting him.

"Oh, I just have an invoice for you. For the work on some new trees."

You hold it out, the paper limp and drooping in your hand.

He's nodding, the briefest smile before his eyes drop again to his work - the end of his pen pointing towards a walnut-stained organizer at the edge of his desk.

"In the bin, if you don't mind." A low, long sigh, “I hope you’ll excuse me, you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

As the paper drops, you see the numbers inked out by his pen, the neat rows lined up. Fingers keying at the calculator, the tiny clicking as you turn to go.

"Thank you, darling."

He's too distracted by his list of to-dos to notice the slip, but you don't. The word echos in your ears and you have to force yourself to move, to take a step.

Barely able to mutter your own answer, an "of course", before you’re stepping through, closing the door behind you. The soft click as it shuts, as you press your back against it.

The blood pounds in your ears, matching the way your heart thuds in your chest.

It takes you a long moment before you’re able to move again.

It's just after mid-day - your stomach full from the lunch you took after trimming back the mess of tree branches along the long, secluded driveway. Still a bit of time to kill before the mulch arrives for the flower beds.

It's warm today - you water bottle full, another layer of sunscreen hastily reapplied, smoothed over your face and neck. Legs taking you down a packed-dirt path, winding through the neat hedges, out into the wilder parts of the estate.

It's one of the areas you like the best. Tall grass and gently-guided wildflowers, trees that are decades older than you. Would be standing long after you're gone, standing watch.

It's beneath one of these large trees that is a particular favorite. An old, wood and wrought-iron bench is nestled at the base, just under the shade of the old oak with it's high, sprawling branches. A spot you visit often - a book tucked under your arm, like you have now.

But today, you're not alone.

There's a figure, resting on the bench, a leg bent so the ankle rests across a knee. A cane, resting against the dark curl of the armrest. Sharp eyes that flick towards you at the rustle of your footsteps - too late now to pick a different spot.

Though lately, you're not sure if you would.

Even if he hadn't seen you.

No, today - you're unable to stop the small curl of your lips, as you wander over to the old bench, the man sitting on it.

A hand comes up to shade the sun from your eyes as you ask, "What has you out this far, today?"

He smiles, tucking his pen into the notebook resting on his lap, shutting it with a little snap.

"Just wanted to enjoy the fruits of our labor."

The reference makes you smile.

A small, on-going conversation had formed between the two of you. You'd find something interesting out on your morning walks - a new sprig of flowers, a cluster of mushrooms. Telling him about them the next time you saw him - him telling you what he thought, on his own walk later.

That day, on one of said walks, he had stumbled upon you.

Working on cleaning out the little cottage you had stumbled upon, a chair brought out from inside to prop open the impossibly-heavy wooden door. Trying to drag out the treasure you had found inside - the iron bench, just needing a little dusting off.

It had been heavy, but you had been determined. Pushing it through the doorway, only for the legs to drag and catch on the dirt and grass on the other side.

When he saw you, shoulder pressed into the iron, pushing with feet that slid and kicked up dirt, he had rushed to help. And of course, the embarassment, the pride, had flared in your chest, as you told him no thanks, and that you had it.

A silent stand-off as you gave it another go, as he watched. Equally matched in stubborness - until he's asking, not telling, you to please accept his help. That it would be easier together.

With that, you conceded. Watching as his fingers had curled around the edge of the seat, lifting his side easily.

Telling yourself you could have done it - it was just too big, too bulky, as you lifted your own end.

But, he was right. It had been easier with his help.

You hadn't moved it far - if you turned your head now, you could just make out the thatched roof peeking over a cluster of bushes.

Now, he pats the empty seat, an arm moving to rest along the wooden back. And you take it, folding yourself into the space. Realizing that perhaps it's a little narrow for two, but not minding today.

The view is pretty. You tell him that, and he agrees - the bit of field, grasses rustling in the summer breeze. The thick line of trees just behind, vast enough that you can't see behind or through them. A bright splash of blue sky above, the clouds puffy and soft.

"You picked a nice spot." He tells you, and there's a warmth in your chest as you smile that isn't from the heat of the day.

Sitting in companionable silence for some time, listening to the chirp of birds, the rhythmic click of crickets in the tall grass.

And then, he's saying your name - soft a low and you can't remember him ever saying it like this before. Your head tilts towards him, and again you're aching concious of how close he is, the weight of his arm just behind your shoulder.

Only now noticing the casual state of his dress. The tie that hangs loose on either side of his chest, framing the short line of loosened buttons on his dress shirt, the briefest flash of skin. Taking all your strength not to look, to stare, but you're afraid he's already caught the quick circut of your eyes.

The briefest furrow of his brows, the peek of a tongue wetting his lips as he thinks about how to word his thoughts. Your own breath caught in your throat.

Wondering. Hoping.

"When you first got here." Alfred begins, "I wasn't-"

A sigh, a rueful smile, "I should have been a lot more… welcoming to you than I was. I've been regretting a number of my actions for some time now."

He looks away then, perhaps in embarrassment. And despite your mental chiding to listen, you can't help the quick dip of your eyes - down to the window of skin again, the peek of silvery hair.

A low sigh, and then he’s turning back.

"I hope you haven't been thinking poorly of me."

You understand - accepting his version of an olive branch, wrapped in a half-apology.

Though you hadn't thought you would at first, though it had taken some time. Both of you in the wrong. Starting off on uneven footing, seeds of discourtesy sown before anything softer could grow.

So, you offer one of your own.

"I haven't." You tell him, words equally soft. Unable to help adding, "As long as you haven't been thinking poorly of me, either."

He smiles at that, a flash of teeth matching the relief in his eyes.

A single word, quieting both of your apprehension.

"Never."

There’s a smile of your own, a duck of your head as you face him fully - peeking up from underneath eyelashes. Close enough to see the bright splash of blue in his eyes roving over your face, dipping.

Lingering.

His lips parting, a soft question, “You have… may I?”

A thudding in your chest as it grows tight, eyes blinking up at him as he shifts closer - the barest brush of his trousers against your bare thigh.

Holding your breath as he carefully reaches out, his hand sliding just shy of your jaw. The tips of his fingers skate along your neck, just under your ear, and the brief touch feels almost electric.

And then with a small tug, as his hand drops - leaving you dizzy and wide-eyed and wanting.

A soft hum of amusement - the first time you had ever heard it - as he reveals a curving leaf and the bit of clipped stem that must have tangled earlier in your hair.

“You had a little stowaway.”

You manage your own small laugh - though you’re unable to help feeling a little disappointed. Wishing that he would look at you, touch you, like that again.

“Thank you.”

Something passing between you that you can almost taste, heavy and thick and sweet on your tongue. The leaf cradled carefully in his hand, thumb running over it’s smooth edge as you hold his gaze for a long moment. Before he blinks - looking away.

Alfred’s other hand smoothing down his thigh, leg carefully uncrossing, “I’ll leave you to your break.”

That has you sitting up straighter, the protest coming without thought, your hand reaching out to rest on his forearm, “You don’t have to. I don’t mind the company.”

And so, with a small smile - he stays.

part ii is here!

(no pressure alfred tags - @stargirlfics, @squidlywiddly87, @thaddeuscranes, @maskhoper, @madamepoelzig)