#BURLAP SHOPPING BAG

[asiajute]

Best Trending Jute Products in 2023

Jute Rice Bag 🌾 🛍️ As of my knowledge cutoff of 2023, some jute trends include the use of jute in sustainable and eco-friendly products, the incorporation of jute into fashion accessories such as bags and shoes, and the use of jute in home decor products such as rugs, curtains, and table runners. Additionally, there has been an increasing demand for jute products due to its biodegradability and…

[3rdmissingsock]

Get down from there you are too high up!!!!

You're going to get popcorn ceiling crumbs all over your little hats!!!!! >:(

[emiliaoleary]

Hooking rugs that look like dogs

Here's how I do it:

The process I use is called rug hooking (not latch hook or punch needle or tufting, though it is the forerunner of the latter two techniques). Rugs are hooked by pulling loops of fabric strips or yarn through the holes of a base fabric with a coarse open weave, like burlap, or linen, or rug warp. The loops are pulled through the fabric with a squat-handled hook whose business end is shaped like a crochet hook.  There are no knots and the loops aren't sewed down in any way.  The whole thing stays put just by the tension of all those loops packed together in the weave of the foundation fabric.

This isn't a true detailed tutorial but a walk-through of my particular process. The same information is on my web page, emilyoleary.com .

I hook with yarn, rather than with cut strips of wool fabric, which is what many rug hookers use.  I can get a looser, more organic distribution of loops with yarn than I could with wool strips, which are hooked in neat lines. 

Mostly I use wool yarn. In terms of yarn weight, I can use DK, worsted, or Aran.  If I'm using thicker yarn, I leave more holes un-hooked; if I'm using finer yarn, I hook more densely or double up lengths of it.  I particularly like using single ply yarns (like Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride or Malabrigo Worsted).  I don't keep count, but I think I usually use around two dozen types and colors of yarn per dog.  

This is my yarn wall in my apartment. Mostly brown and gray yarn!

I start from a small drawing in my sketchbook, then I head to FedEx office to use a copy machine, blowing up the drawing repeatedly and experimenting with how big the dog rug should be. 

After transferring the image onto my linen, I immediately go over it with Sharpie, because the Saral is really difficult to see and really easy to rub off.

The rug is held taut by a PVC quilting frame that I set on my lap.

I push my hook down through the fabric with my right hand and my left hand stays below the fabric and guides the yarn while I pull it up and through with the hook. Not every hole in the fabric is hooked. Hooking every hole would make the rug too dense. I do hook pretty densely, though-- If you pick up one of my rugs you’ll see they have a slight curl to them, which is because they’re hooked pretty tight. I'm using all different weights and types of yarn, so it's a challenge to keep the overall tension even.

I hook my loops at varying heights to create a very low relief. Sometimes I trim the loops to make them fluffier or wispier or to shape a particular part. I look at a reference photo while I work and pull out and redo sections a lot.

My q-snap frame can accommodate the growing dog rug. I have extenders to make it bigger and I can clamp around my hooking.

The back of a rug looks like lines of little stitches. The lines are little worm trails snaking around because lines of hooking are not supposed to cross over each other. It's important to start a new length of yarn rather than cross over a stitch you already made! I read this when I first started and took it to heart. It makes it much easier to undo and redo hooking if you have to (and I redo sections A Lot). It also keeps the back from getting too bulky and resulting in uneven wear on the back of a functional rug that gets floor use.

When I’m done hooking everything I turn the rug over and brush watered-down Sobo glue on the edges of the dog, making sure to get one or two of the outermost lines of hooking. I do a couple coats of this thinned out glue. I'm careful not to use so much that it seeps to the front of the rug. When the glue is dry I cut the rug out, but I don't cut so close that the loops don't have any linen to keep them in.

​ It generally takes me at least several months to finish one dog rug. My hooking frame and yarn bag are very portable (though bulky) so I can hook out and about at coffee shops or the library or a brewery if there's enough space and light.

Hooking in the wild makes me an ambassador for making things in general and rug hooking in particular. I answer people's questions and always emphasize how relatively easy it is to get started hooking. Sometimes I get anxious that other people will hook rugs that look like mine but better, but I think that working in a traditional medium means you should share your knowledge for the good of the craft.

[rusandashop]

Perfect eco friendly replacement for shopping bags, You can carry it in your pocket. Light weight, small size very much suitable for daily shopping needs.

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW In This Chapter!) - PART 4 -

PART 5 (NSFW)

~

Odd things started happening.

You unlocked the door to your shop, and you could hear a pin drop. And that’s just it. It was quiet. Something so small, so simple. But you noticed it immediately. The hinges of the door had been oiled. You opened and closed the door so many times… you probably looked quite mad to onlookers. You gasped when inside the shop you noticed another repair. The window. The one you had boarded up, fixed good as new. Instead of relief, a wave of worry was beginning to wash over you. Was this a joke? Was Milo doing this just to let winter take it all away? Or giving you a taste of what you could have if you surrendered to his advances.

The thought began to cross your mind recently. The days were beginning to grow longer, and the sun grew more stifling. Spring was melting into summer. You and your mother were beginning to find proof of pests and varmints making a feast out of the fields. When you had your sisters and your mother was stronger, winter wasn’t such a frightening thought.

tap tap tap. You looked around the shop. A mouse? Tap tap tap.

You looked to the window, and there he was.

”We keep meeting each other like this.” His voice muffled through the glass. “You’re a lot more bold without your friends around.” You retorted. His smile faltered, “I’m a coward.”

You laughed. This orc hunter? Cowardly?

”Here.” He held something up into the window. A lumpy burlap rucksack. “It��s Turmeric. But… for growing. In the dirt.”

You walked over and opened the window. “Why?” You were cautious, you didn’t trust “gifts” from men anymore. He tossed the bag on your counter, “Those golden eggs you gave me, the boys said they were just like home… thank you.” His gaze was so piercing, you felt your face grow hot. “How much for these?” You tore your eyes away from him towards the burlap bag.

“Nothing. Just keep making them, and I’ll tell everyone to come here and keep buying them!” He seemed absolutely giddy. “This orc must really love pickled eggs.” you thought to yourself.

“I see Milo around here pretty often.”

”You’ve been watching?” His face got very red at your reply. “Well regardless,” He didn’t deny your accusation, “He seems real sweet on you.”

”He can go fuck himself.” You hissed. Khargaad’s eyes widened. “I refuse to give him what he wants and I think it’s nearly driven him mad.” He looked at you expectantly, like he was hanging onto your every word. You paused before you went on with your rant, “How do you know him?” You realized you should know if the two were chummy before cursing Milo’s name.

“When you hunt big game, you end up meeting the people with enough money to pay you to hunt said game. But we are not friends, if that’s what you’re getting at.” You sighed in relief. “Hey,” you said changing the subject, “come in here and pick something out. On the house. I really appreciate these.” You patted the burlap sack. He grinned and shimmied his way through the doorway. You hadn’t had the chance to fully appreciate his size. He had to crouch to fit beneath the low ceiling, but you guessed he must be 7 feet tall standing fully upright. And his arms, oh his arms. Big and thick like two tree branches. You were staring. You didn’t realize it before you caught his eye and yanked yourself back behind the counter, counting your coins.

He quietly pondered over all of the jars of pickled vegetables. “What’s in this?” You heard him ask. You didn’t bother looking up from your coins, “It’s written on the label.”

”Are you kidding?” His voice lacked any light-hearted tone. You glanced up from your counting. He looked at you, then at the label, then back at you again. “Don’t you remember? What those two said when you mentioned the recipe?”

“That you were illiterate?”

”No, they said I couldn’t read, y/n.” Was he yanking your chain right now? That’s what you just- “OH… oh. I thought… they were kidding.” The words eked past your lips. The poor orc had a pained look of embarrassment on his face. Before he could even conjure up of an answer, the words tumbled out your mouth like a turned over bushel of apples.

“I’ll teach you!”

He peered over at you, his cheeks were very flushed. “No one has ever tried to teach me before.” You smiled very sweetly at him, “And I have never grown turmeric in my garden before. But here you are. And here I am.” It only took him one and a half strides to meet you at the counter across the room. “What can I give you in return?” It almost sounded like he was pleading.

You chuckled, “It’s a gift, Khargaad.” He was so close now that you could smell the smokey leather scent coming off of him. You probably should have been embarrassed to take such a noticeably large inhale of it. But it was too lovely for you to care. You couldn’t have known his own sensitive scent receptors were going haywire this close to you.

“I should go now. Thank you. I’ll be back.” He said shortly. He left so quickly he forgot his jar of pickled vegetables.

~

He had to leave. Had to. You smelled so sweet. He felt awful. Thinking like that. About you.

He found himself in the forest, back pressed up against a tree. So much blood had rushed to the orc’s cock it was becoming painful. He winced, palming himself over the strained trousers. He frantically pulled at the strings of his waistband, the fabric pooling down around his thighs. “Ah!” Gods, the noises that were coming out of his mouth were sinful.

He ran a hand down the trail of hair leading to his cock. “O- oh. F-fuck.” He wrap one hand around the base, already fucking himself in and out of his fist. He won’t last long. Not with the memory of your scent still fresh in his mind. He would bet his right hand that you taste just as sweet.

It felt so wrong, but Gods when you walked into that town square wearing that dress. He knew you had used the spice he gave you. And on that day, it was wrapped so pretty against your body. Around your waist. Around your breasts. The briskness of the spring morning making your nipples poke through the gauzy fabric.

He didn’t last long, his hot milky cum dribbled over his fingers. He couldn’t do this again. It was an insult to you. It was filthy. You were kind. You were generous.

From this day forward, he was determined to court you. Properly.

~

The sky was purple and orange in twilight. The street was uncharacteristically vacant that evening, but you didn’t think much of it. You didn’t think to watch the front door. And you certainly didn’t hear the person who had quite silently slipped through the entrance.

You screamed. You really screamed, when you felt an arm snake around your waist. But there wasn’t anybody around to hear you. “You’re going to die, y/n.” It was Milo and he was very drunk. The scent on his breath stung your nose. “You and your mother are going to die come winter. You can’t work fast enough to protect the rats from your fields. Not with two women. You’re mother can hardly walk anymore can she?”

His grip was digging into your waist, “And when winter comes, I won’t let anybody in this entire fucking town help you. I swear it, y/n.”

Milo was not an honorable man, but you knew this was one oath he intended on keeping. “Don’t do something stupid, Milo. Let’s be reasonable,” You seethed through your biting teeth, “There’s so many girls in this town, Milo. So many girls who are more rich, more beautiful, better family names-“ He brought his other hand to your neck and squeezed just a little bit.

”Do you know what people say? About a rich man who can’t even get the hand of a simple farm girl?”

“I can’t help your bruised ego-“ He squeezed your air pipes even tighter, making you choke on your words. “The Gods have blessed me, y/n. This morning I woke up, and I-“

”Hey.” A very gruff voice came from behind the two of you. Milo released you immediately, leaving a red ring around your neck. You knew that voice.

”You should go from here Milo.” Khargaad didn’t brandish a weapon. To kill a man he only needed his bare hands, after all. Milo trembled, hells even you trembled too. Milo threw his hands in the air light heartedly, “Lover’s quarrel-“

”Wrong. Leave. Don’t come back here.” Khargaad uncrossed his massive arms, taking a step to the side. Milo, the coward he was, stormed out the open door. Not before spitting on Khargaad’s boots. The orc didn’t stop him, stepping between you and the doorway. His eyes stayed trained on Milo as he stormed down the street.

You massaged your aching neck, the orc had a troubled look on his face, “Are you okay?” You weren’t. Of course you weren’t. You brushed him off, “I thought you were going to kill him.” He crossed his arms again, “I considered it. Trust me, I did. But what would you do after that? The son of the richest man in town. Killed by an orc. In your presence, in your shop after hours.” He was right. But there was a part of you who would’ve risked it all just to see Milo snuffed out.

Khargaad cleared his throat, “What was he talking about? With you and your mother? And the Farm?”

Shit.

————————————————————————

Me: I’m gonna write something beautiful and meaningful :)

Also Me: Orc man experiences post-nut clarity in the forest >:)

As always: Hugs and smooches to everyone who asked for part 3 ❤️

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

An Adventurer’s Cold

****************************

An original fic commissioned anonymously

********************************

Subject: Original Characters By Author

Length: 3,998 Words

Genre: Denial, RPG, Contagion, Stuck Sneeze

Rating: E for Everyone

CW/TW: Slight Food Description, Mild Blood

*********************************

You have entered MARLINE’S MAGIC SHOP.

“Snf…welcobe back, traveler.”

Marline took a worn handkerchief out of her front apron pocket, blowing her nose mightily. She sniffled, leaning against the old oak counter she stood behind.

“Whad can I interest you in today?”

Terra, only half listening, looked at the many mystical items lining the shelves. Dragon’s heart, succubus horns, even a small jar filled with pixie wings for one silver piece each. Not a bad price, considering how hard pixies were to catch.

However, she didn’t have time for browsing today.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a bronze kobold fang, would ya?” she asked, looking through a green eyepiece at the tired shopkeeper.

Marline smiled. “You took thad request for the rabid fairies, I take it?”

“Yep! They’re some nasty critters, but we’ve got a potion that should stun ‘em -”

“Hah-! hhhhp’TSHIEW!”

Marline bent over the counter, her long red hair spilling over her face. She groaned, taking her handkerchief out again. Terra lowered the eyepiece.

“Good health, Mar. Though it sounds like it’s a little late for that.”

Marline blew her nose with a loud honk. “I was bushroom hunting during a rainy spell ereyesterday - snf! I believe I bay have lived to regret it.”

“I’ll say,” Terra said, frowning. “Have any faeleaf? It doesn’t taste great, but it’ll set you right again.”

“Not this week, I’b afraid. I wasn’d the only one who fell ill after the storm. I would harvest sobe byself, bud I…hih! hhh’PTCHIIEW!”

“Hey, no worries!”

Terra reached into her traveling bag and pulled out a small, bitter-smelling burlap pouch.

“I always keep some with me for emergencies.”

Marline shook her head. “You busn’t – hih’PSHIEW!”

Terra set the bag on the counter.

“Listen, if anybody has an emergency, it’s what you’ve got. Besides, I haven’t caught a cold since I was a kid! I don’t think I’m going to start getting one now.”

Marline gave a knowing smile, but took the herbs with no more opposition.

“Stday in good health, kind traveler,” was all she said before stuffing her handkerchief back into her apron pocket.

“I will!” Terra replied, not noticing Marline’s expression. “The spirit of adventure will keep me warm! And a little mead, if I can get it.”

Terra chuckled, and turned on her heel to leave.

“Ah! Your kobold fang!” Marline called after her.

Terra spun around again, putting her hand on her forehead.

“If my bow wasn’t on my back, I’d forget that too,” she said, reaching for her belt. “Let me just get my coin purse, and I’ll -”

Marline shook her head. “No, no, dear traveler, please. Your kindness has been paybent edough.”

She reached into her apron, pulling out a sharp, yellow tooth with a purple tint at the crown. She held it out to the adventurer.

“Don’t mention it,” Terra said, accepting the tooth.

Suddenly, Marline’s handkerchief was retrieved again, and she sneezed into it yet again, sniffling with a quiet groan. Terra suddenly realized that the tooth must have been next to the shopkeeper’s many handkerchiefs throughout the day. That would explain its uncharacteristic shine.

She shrugged, putting the tooth into her satchel. She’d touched worse bodily fluids.

KOBOLD TOOTH is now in your inventory.

“Get some rest, Marline!” Terra called behind her as she left.

“I shall,” Marline said wearily. “Fare thee we-heh! hhhh’PCHIEW!”

**************************************

You have entered the DARK FOREST.

“I believe this is the place, if my master’s geography is correct,” Vin said, peering at a dusty, yellowed scroll. “Though the topography may have changed since he made it.”

“Eh, how much can a bunch of rocks move?” Terra said. She squinted above her, checking the branches of the surrounding trees for glittering wings or beady eyes between the leaves.

Vin adjusted their glasses with a mechanism on the side of the hinge. “Quite a bit, actually. Earthquakes, battles, magical events, even the migration of animals can-”

ENERGY has decreased. You are now FATIGUED.

Terra yawned, rubbing her suddenly burning eyes. Vin scowled.

“You can at least pretend to be interested.”

Terra started. “Huh?”

“We have been walkin’ for a while,” Norif said, hoping to placate the scholar. “We ought to set up camp – it’s gettin’ dark anyway.”

Vin hmphed, but didn’t have any objection.

Suddenly, Terra noticed that there weren't as many sounds of footsteps as there were before. Her worn brogues, Norif’s dwarvish leather boots, Vin’s cork soles…

Terra turned around.

Frederick had completely stopped, and was looking up at the sky, which had just begun to show the pinpricks of summer stars. His wide, moonish eyes stared, unmoving. Then, with a slow motion, he lifted a thin arm and pointed a finger to the trees, his other hand moving inside his cloak. Terra instinctively rubbed her hands together, preparing her magic.

The others soon followed suit, grabbing their own weapons and standing at the ready.

Their preparedness paid off, as, before the party knew it, a swarm of angry fairies descended upon them, snarling and screeching.

Norif swung his ax at the creatures, taking large clouds of them with a single blow. Vin, with a scraping of iron, loaded their crossbow, the many cogs and mechanisms firing the arrows directly into each fairy heart. A thin rope attached to every arrow jerked them back into place with a satisfying clack. The practical Frederick fired his revolver quickly and without mercy, leaving every target a blood splatter on the dark soil.

But even with these efforts, the fairies quickly overtook them. Frothing mouths and gnashing teeth soon surrounded the adventurers.

They had expected this – after all, fairies could only be kept at bay with magic, as was their birthright. They all looked to Terra, their resident mage.

Taking this as her cue, Terra retrieved the kobold tooth from her belt, crushing the hollow bone in her palm until it was a thin powder.

A simple wind spell would spread the tooth, subduing the fairies until Terra could harness lightning to defeat them for good – electricity was the only natural element they had no control over.

Terra took a deep breath, and a howling gust of wind blew through the forest as she puffed out the ground tooth. A white cloud swirled around her. The rest of the party kept their distance, both out of reach from the spell and the rabid fairies. The cloud overcame the swarm, and, as they smelled the scent of their natural enemy, went limp and hovered in the air.

Exactly as planned.

Terra stretched her fingers, feeling the warm pulse of magic flow through her hands. To the knuckles, to the joints, then to the tips it went.

But, before she could cast the final spell, her breath caught.

The KOBOLD POWDER is tickling your throat.

Terra tried to will herself to focus on the spell, but it was no use. The powder was making her eyes water and her throat dry. She hacked out a cough, still holding her hands in front of her to cast. The spell buzzed uselessly from her fingertips.

No matter how much she wheezed and croaked, Terra couldn’t keep upright long enough to cast her spell. The cloud was starting to settle, and one of the bigger fairies shook itself from its haze, baring its fangs. It dived into a thin part of the cloud towards Terra.

“Watch out!” Norif called, but it was no use. Terra could hardly hear herself think, much less anyone else over her hacking.

Terra looked up just in time to see the fairy rear back an arm and sink its claws into her cheek. She yelped, stumbling back. A tree root caught her heel, and she tumbled to the ground. She lifted herself onto her elbows to the fairy growling a low growl, preparing another, deadlier attack. Green venom dripped from its fangs, and its yellow eyes dilated. Terra held her hands in front of her, trying in vain to ward off the creature.

“N-Nice fairy…snf…”

Unbeknownst to the mage, the tickle in her throat had slowly traveled to her sinuses. Her freckled nose began to twitch.

You need to SNEEZE.

“Deh-Don’t…hih-!”

A small group of black clouds gathered above them, and Terra’s hands began to crackle. Thunder crashed. The fairy started, looking up with wide eyes and a whimper. Terra squeezed one watering eye shut.

“A-Almost…gih-!”

The clouds grew thicker, the thunder louder. The tree branches trembled in the wind. The other fairies, still hovering, looked up at the rumbling sky. Terra hitched, curling her fingers.

“HAH-!”

KSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!

You used CALL OF LIGHTNING.

Lightning flashed, hitting every single fairy with a bolt of white hot magic. They fell to the ground, singed and lifeless. Barely contained, bolts began hitting nearby trees, giving them black, round burn marks with red centers. If the rest of the party hadn’t gotten out of range of Terra’s magic, they would have surely been struck as well.

It was VERY EFFECTIVE.

Once the spell had run out of targets, it ended, and the dust cleared. All that was left in the now barren clearing was Terra, stunned and still holding her hands in front of her. A light drizzle began to fall.

There was a long pause as the party stood still in front of the clearing, afraid to join the fairies littering the ground.

“Cogs and corkscrews,” Vin murmured, their usually narrowed eyes wide.

Norif gingerly stepped into the singed circle, keeping the blade of his ax above him just in case.

“Y’alright?” he said, taking a torn rag from his breast pocket.

Terra blinked, and a nervous smile shook on her lips.

“I, uh…the spell kind of got away from me, huh?”

“I’d say so,” Vin said, earning him a glare from Norif, who had begun dressing the wound on Terra’s cheek.

“At least the job’s done,” he soothed. “No one in their right head would want fairies caught alive.”

Terra nodded. “Yeah. That’s right. Just - koff! - give me a sec and I’ll -”

ENERGY has decreased. You are now EXHAUSTED.

Terra fell back against the tree trunk, wincing. Norif rubbed her shoulder.

“We’ll make sure the fairies don’ seep back into the soil. You did your part. We’ll do ours.”

Hardly in a position to argue, Terra leaned her head against the tree trunk, closing her burning eyes.

Before she knew it, a pair of strong arms lifted her up from the ground. All she heard before she dozed off was Vin complaining that their glasses would get rusted in the rain, and there wasn’t a blacksmith for miles, and was it really necessary to do a lightning spell of all things…

*****************************************

You have entered GWALT’S INN.

“A c-couple rooms, if ya would.”

The innkeeper peered over at the counter at the adventurers. Terra was standing, as she had insisted on entering the inn on her own two feet. However, she had a hand on Frederick’s shoulder for support.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow. “On whose account?”

Terra looked around. Instead of drunken workmen or soldiers recounting battle, the fine oaken tables were filled with nobles politely chatting over honey mead or aged wine. A few of them had turned to stare at the soaked, mud-covered party in varying degrees of confusion and disdain.

This wasn’t an adventurer’s inn, but a place for those of higher standing to feel a clean ruggedness, a false sense of bravery as they “conversed with the locals.”

This wasn’t a place for them.

However, before they could return to the stormy darkness, Frederick held up a hand and reached inside his cloak. He retrieved a thin card, one side silver and the other gold. A few words that Terra didn’t recognize were engraved into the metal. Frederick laid the card on the counter, pushing it towards the innkeeper with the tip of his finger.

To Terra’s surprise, the innkeeper began to sputter, his waxy face turning red.

“Of course, sirs! Madams! His majesty’s brave battalion!”

The nobles began to whisper among themselves, their disgust turning quickly to awe and reverence.

“I am terribly sorry, no, outraged that you had to travel in such dreadful weather!” the innkeeper stammered, showing them up the stairs with a low bow. “I will have your clothes washed immediately, and perfumed of course! And whatever of our selection of humble morsels you may like, if thou wishes.”

Terra raised her eyebrows, looking at Frederick. He only nodded solemnly.

It wasn’t long before the mage was in a pair of silk bedclothes, laying in a large bed with frilled sheets and a thick quilt.

However, she wasn’t sleeping.

“Ih-! Hih…!”

You need to SNEEZE.

She sniffled, then, with a sigh, blew her nose. Mounds of tissues surrounded her, all provided by the inn staff, of course. However, no matter how much she snuffled and sniffled and rubbed her nostrils with the palm of her hand, she couldn’t bring herself to sneeze – though the need grew ever more powerful.

Unable to doze for more than a few minutes, she tried to plan the next few days' journey with Vin and Norif, but to no avail.

“If we - snf! - take the high road,” she wavered, keeping a tissue at her nose, “w-we can…meh-!...make good time.”

Norif rubbed the end of his beard. “I don’ think we’ll be leavin’ this inn for a while. On account’ve…”

He cleared his throat.

“...the weather, a’course.”

“The rain’s never stopped us before,” Terra said. “A-And we won’t - snf! - have to stop for washing! We’ll just let the rain…c-clean - HI’HIH-!”

“Would you be quiet?” Vin hissed, not looking up from the map. “I can hardly concentrate.”

Norif slit his eyes at the halfling. Terra growled in frustration.

“You made me lose it again!”

She reached for another tissue, but, finding there to be none left, she buried her nose into the neck of her shirt.

“Disgusting,” Vin said, recoiling and putting the map in front of their eyes.

Terra ignored them. “Maybe some of the kobold tooth got into my nose…I’ve neheeded to sneeze since we bagged the fairies.”

She sniffled.

“Or maybe it’s a curse? But what curse makes you n-need to sneeze?”

Before Norif could answer, the door opened, and Frederick came in, arms full with packs of tissues from the innkeeper. He moved carefully around the bed, handing one of the packs to Terra. She ripped them open with one hand – as the other was more than occupied – and put almost half of them to her streaming nose.

“Thangk you,” she said with a blow.

Norif moved the quilt up to Terra’s shoulders, gently pushing her head onto the mountain of silk pillows.

“Well, until this, er, curse passes, it would be best to lay yourself down for a bit. Maybe Vin could find a cure for ya. Yea, Vin?”

Vin raised their eyebrow at the pointed request, but said nothing to refuse.

“I’ll be fine,” Terra said, propping herself up on her elbows. “And we’re - snf! - leaving tomorrow, rain or shine…!”

She yawned, settling back down again.

“Curse…or no curse.”

******************************

The innkeeper had insisted on breakfast before the party left. An array of meat, pastries, fresh fruit, wine, and mead were brought before them – a king’s feast.

But Terra could hardly touch it.

Having been kept up almost all night by her burning sinuses and aching head, she could only lean against the back of the wooden chair, shivering as the chilly morning air drafted through. Her coat was made to be warm, even in the most frigid northern wind, but it seemed like the cold was leeching into her very bones.

She was only awoken when Norif put a hand on her forehead. The warmth of his rough palm felt her head, then either side of her neck. She heard him whisper something to the others, but the only thing she could hear was her pounding temples.

“Mmn…is it tibe to leave?” she murmured, trying to push her chair back from the table. Her sore joints were too weak, and the chair’s back legs clacked back onto the floor.

“Ah! Not just yet,” Norif saud, an odd tone of urgency in his voice. “We need’ta…er, Vin’s gonna go to a library nearby. T’cure your curse. There’s really no use ‘n you goin’, it’s all dusty books and scrolls.”

“Don’d have tibe,” Terra croaked. “Back to the guild.”

Norif gave Vin a pleading look, and the scholar fumbled with their knapsack, taking out a few tattered papers and maps.

“Eh, w-well, we are a few days ahead of schedule. We needn’t be back for at least another week, and it only takes three days to - ”

Terra was already up from the table, ignoring Vin. Without much choice, everyone else followed suit. After yesterday’s battle, they were afraid of what might happen if they tried to force her back to bed.

The weather had much improved since the day before. Though it was still a bit gray, the sun peeked out between the clouds, sending rays of light through the raindrops still left on the leaves.

Despite her weakness, Terra took the front as usual, plodding alongside Norif. Shivers ran up and down her spine as a cold wind left from the storm began to blow.

As the group walked near the edge of the woods, the clouds grew darker, and the sun disappeared again. Terra put a thumb on the underside of her nose.

You need to SNEEZE.

Terra sniffled and rolled her eyes. As if on cue, her nostrils began to tremble, and a burning tickle flared in her swollen sinuses. But, this time, the urge grew so great that it made the mage stop in her tracks.

“Hih…? HIH-!”

Attempt to STIFLE? > YES NO

She put her hands over her nose. A slow tingling made its way from her nose to the rest of her body. Soon, the air around her crackled with blue sparks of magic.

“Terra?” Norif said, reaching towards her before thinking better of it.

Terra tried to answer, but it was taking everything in her to keep the magic contained. Thunder rumbled in the clouds as she squeezed one watery eye shut.

“I-I’m…guh-! HUH-!”

She desperately waved to her friends to stand back – she knew that this sneeze was coming, one way or another. The party wasted no time, running behind the treeline with whatever they could carry above their heads to protect them.

“HihihHIH-!”

Terra leaned her head back, the magic coming to a peak inside her. The air was suddenly silent – a calm before the storm. Until –

“HIYA’TSHIIIIIIIEW!”

A circle of lightning flashed around her, and thunder rumbled loud enough to shake the earth. Smoking burn marks smoked around her.

But, before the rest of the party could join her again –

“HYESH’IIIIIEW!”

Again and again Terra sneezed, with each sneeze bringing another ring of lightning and another round of thunder. All of her lost sneezes from the night before seemed to finally come to fruition, and she couldn’t stop for some time.

Finally, though, Terra did stop. She lifted her head, dazed and with singed hair, and sniffled thickly.

SNEEZE COMBO x15!

Snottiness Rank B! Power Rank A+!

Bless you, TERRA!

One by one, her comrades came to join her – Norif first, of course, then Frederick, then, after some convincing, Vin.

The thunder had subsided, but a heavy rain had begun to fall. Terra started to shiver again, her trembling breath visible in blue puffs of steam.

“Ya poor thing…” Norif said, taking off his own fur-lined cloak and tying it around her shoulders. “You really oughta’ve stayed in bed.”

Terra rubbed her nose on the back of her damp sleeve. “Bud…th-the guild…we need…koff!”

She began coughing into her arm, and Norif fastened his cloak tighter around her.

“Ya need do no such thing,” he said firmly, though not unkindly. “You’re sick as a gnome in the rainy season. And almost half as wet –”

“And the sooner you put aside that hero complex of yours,” Vin interrupted, “the sooner we can get inside the inn, out of this weather! I’m already soaking, and we certainly don’t need two people ill in this party!”

They crossed their arms, and lifted their chin.

“Furthermore,” they added, “we wouldn’t want you catching pneumonia. That’s quite a bit harder to treat than that disgusting cold. And I will be significantly more furious with you if I catch it.”

Frederick took off his combat gloves, then put them over Terra’s red-tipped hands. He looked over his glasses and gave her one of his rare smiles. Putting his palms on either side of Terra’s hands, Frederick rubbed them together, trying to warm them.

“Ya feelin’ better, Terra?” Norif asked.

Terra sniffled. “C-Cold…”

“Well, no wonder!” Vin said, scoffing. “Heat is mostly lost through the head. If she had some sort of covering, then, perhaps…she could…”

Vin stopped. Everyone was staring at them. Or, rather, their scholar’s beret.

“I mean…or, rather…” they spluttered, then threw their hands up. “Oh, fine! But it had better be returned to me in the exact condition I lent it. It’s irreplaceable, you know.”

They took off their hat, stiffly handing it to Frederick, as if through ceremony rather than a favor.

“Your sacrifice will be remembered through th’ ages!” Norif said, chuckling.

Vin glared at him. “My patience has already been tested enough. Do not test it further.”

“Aye, aye.”

Terra could feel a slow warmness spread through her, and her eyes suddenly felt heavy as iron.

“Alright, up ya go. Let’s get ya out of the cold.”

Terra was heaved up again, and, surrounded by the warmth of her friends, drifted into a dreamless, sneezeless sleep.

FRIENDSHIP LEVEL +1!

********************************

You have entered MARLINE’S MAGIC SHOP!

“Welcome back, traveler! Might I interest you in our wares?”

Marline smiled at the returning Terra, who replied by blowing her nose into a pink tissue.

“How’s it going, Mar?” Terra said, sniffling as she looked at the glimmering displays.

Marline’s smile faded. “Are you not well, traveler?”

“I’m weller than I have been. Just a liddle sniffly now. Snf!”

Marline put a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Terra…it must have been my chill that you caught. And I left you without any faeleaf!”

Terra rubbed the back of her neck. “About that. You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that left in stock, would you?”

“Ah, yes, a fresh bunch! Why-”

Suddenly, a large, dwarvish sneeze came from outside the shop, followed by a chorus of harsh coughs. Marline put her lips together underneath her hand, keeping back a giggle.

“Oh, dear.”

“Yeah,” Terra said sheepishly. “I’ll take three pouches.”

She furrowed her brow, counting on her fingers.

“And a few-”

Another sneeze rang out, this time small and high-pitched.

“Okay, a lot of tissues. We’re gonna need ‘em. Maybe some tea? I guess? That’s what Vin gave me when I was sick, anyway.”

Marline winked. “I know just the thing.”

She disappeared behind the shelves for a few moments, coming back with many packs of tissues, two pouches of strong-smelling tea leaves, a few pouches of faeleaves, and a thick blanket.

“May your party be blessed with a quick recovery,” Marline said.

Terra started to reach for her coin pouch, but Marline stopped her.

“I gave you and the others my cold. I’m going to cure it as best I can.”

Terra opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. She began to put the items in her bag.

“You’ll have nothing to sell at this rate, Marline,” she said.

Marline tilted her head. “Well, I can always deal in colds.”

Yet another sneeze came from the doorway, raspy and shuddering.

“It appears I’m quite good at it, I’m afraid.”

“I am too, if being an adventurer doesn’t pan out,” Terra said, turning to leave. “See you later, Marline!”

“Goodbye, dear traveler! And good health!”

Marline chuckled as Terra joined the others.

“Though it appears it’s a little late for that.”

[lunamoonbby]

Cult!141 x Fem!Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT MDNI

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Dark Content, Manipulation, allusions to past abuse very brief not in depth, female reader, swearing, pregnancy, birth, poly relationships, smut, Cult AU, the use of lord in terms to worship, Price being referred to as Father, *Kidnapping, Murder, Violence, Animal Masks, Allusions to Gore.* (if I miss any warnings for this chapter let me know)

If you or a loved one is experiencing abuse, know that there is help, and please help anyone that you know to help them escape from that abuse.

⭐️Author's Note: The religion that the villagers follow is not defined, but it is NOT associated with Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other type of religion there is⭐️

Chapter 7: Double Sacrifice

Price left the Tavern Inn to go back to the Tavern Restaurant. "I wonder what John is going to do the guy that yelled at bonnie." Johnny looked at and Simon. "Strange someone yelled at lovie in my shop, took everything in me not to butcher the bloke." Simon looking at his plate. The bell to the Tavern Restaurant jingled, "boys, little birdy is asleep I love how devoted she is to us, I also don't think it's coincidence that the flowers are our favorite colors." John takes out the flowers that y/n placed in the offering bowl and gave the flowers to the men. Johnny got a pink flower, Kyle got a purple flower, Simon got a dark blue flower, and Price had a peach color flower. "Awe our little sweetheart loves us." Kyle smelled his flower. Simon looking at his flower, "So what are we going to do to the men that yelled at our lovie?" "Glad you asked Simon; we're going to meet at the church and then we'll head out to our meeting grounds outside of this village and then we'll sacrifice them." John looking at Simon, Kyle, and Johnny.

"Then I better go back to my shop and meet you guys at the church." Simon got up taking his leftovers and his flower. "Johnny, Kyle, I'll see you both at the church." John got up and left with his leftovers and flower. "Alright Johnny I'll get the wagon for the body, you make sure the guy is knocked out, gagged, and has a burlap over his head." Kyle left to get the wagon. Johnny went down to the basement. "Please, please, I didn't mean to tell you how to run your shop I-" the frightened customer got cut off by Johnny. "This isn't about my Tavern Restaurant. This is about you yelling at my bonnie lass." Johnny looked at the customer. "This is very personal." Johnny knocked out the customer, gagged him, and put a burlap over his head. "Johnny the wagon is ready!" Kyle yelled. Johnny picked up the body and threw him over his shoulder and place him in the wagon. "Let's head to the church." Johnny said. "Thank goodness John has a curfew that starts at 10:00pm." Kyle stated. "Besides us, our bonnie lass is the exception she went back to the Inn at 11:00." Johnny smiled. Kyle and Johnny made their way towards the church.

Meanwhile at the Butcher Shop, Simon was in the basement sharpening his butcher knives and cleavers. "P-pl-please don't *hiccups* h-hu-hurt me I didn't *sniffling* *hiccups* m-me-mean to tell you how you s-sh-should run *gasping* y-yo-your business." The customer in distress said. Simon slammed down the cleaver he was sharpening and punched the customer in his gut and grabbed him by the hair. "This isn't about my shop. This is about you yelling at my lovie, and yes this is all personal." Simon knocked out the customer, gagged him, and put him in a body bag. Simon slinged the customer over his shoulder and made his way towards the church. 'I'm grateful that Jonathan placed a curfew in this village.' Simon thought to himself.

Simon reached the church where John, Kyle, and Johnny were waiting for him. "Took you awhile to get here mountain man, also I hope you didn't kill the guy here." Johnny looking at Simon. "At least I didn't need a wagon to carry the bloke who yelled at our lovie, and no i didn't kill the bloke I just grabbed the first thing I saw which was this body bag I use to bring back my hunts. I need to throw this one way anyways." Simon looking at the wagon. "Boys please we need to get this sacrifice done and over with before people start waking up." John said looking at Johnny, Simon, and Kyle. All four of them made their way to their secret spot outside of the village. They arrived at their spot and Kyle took the burlap off of the customers head, and Simon took the customer out of the body bag.

John, Simon, Johnny, and Kyle were wearing all black and had put on a skull mask. John was wearing a deer skull mask, Simon was wearing a ram skull mask, and Johnny and Kyle were wearing a crow mask. The two customers woke up and tried to scream but it came out muffled. "Oh, look they're awake." Simon said to Jonathan, Johnny, and Kyle. "I think we should get this done and over with." John said. "Simon you can kill your guy however you see fit, and you Johnny and Kyle can kill your guy how you two see fit." John looking at him men. "I'm going to have fun with you." Simon grabbing his cleaver looking at his customer. "This is the price to pay in making sure our sweetheart is loved." Kyle said handing Johnny the dullest knife they had.

Simon butchered his victim till he couldn't be recognized, and Johnny and Kyle's victim were slashed unrecognizable. It was like a scene from a horror movie. They all took off the masks and made their way back to the church. They made it back to the village just before the people started to get up. "Alright guys lets go freshen up I'm going to hold a mass about welcoming guests." John said to his three men. They all walked their separate ways to take a shower and to wear their best dress. After Simon got ready, he made his way towards y/n room and knocked on the door.

Taglist is open comment if you would like to be added

@yourloverslost @tabbslouuformer @angelrissa @freefallingup13 @readingcatinacorner @sylvanasthebansheequeen @casualunknownrunaway @thatpersonnamedrook @rip-cod-brainrot @hoodiepandaninja16 @spacecrawllerr @kopi-nes

[willinglyghoulified]

Excerpts from a new DA:TV fic I started

This fic is (so far) just for fun, and I don't have much written. Uploads will probably be sporadic, so I haven't published this anywhere yet. Depending on the response I get from readers here, I may upload more. ♥ Warning: a few spoilers in these.

First excerpt:

Lucanis carefully picked through the objects at the stall in the market, like a crow looking for the perfect shiny object for its nest. He wanted to find a gift that conveyed the subtle message that he cared for Rook, but he didn't want something that stood out like a sore thumb. Rook was particular and had few interests; for these reasons, it had to be perfect and tailored to her tastes.

"Just. Pick. Something!" Spite spat in his ear, an annoying presence that Lucanis alone had to bear. "I will, I will. Just give me a moment," he muttered quietly. The shopkeeper, to his disappointment, still heard him. "I'm sorry, sir, but are you talking to me?" "No, I apologize." He was tired of explaining away this exact situation. Finally, Lucanis pulled a small object out of the pile of trinkets. A striking silver feather pendant on a delicate chain. The tiniest bell hung from the top feather, connected through a small, rounded hole with a single delicate chain link. "I'll take this." Lucanis paid in a handful of coins. "But sir, you've overpaid --" "Keep the rest. Consider it payment for holding up your other customers." Lucanis still had other stalls to visit, and he was in a hurry. He hated being in a hurry, especially while food shopping. He liked to examine every onion, every potato, every chicken breast. He liked to smell all the spices and check the freshness of milk and cheeses. And he loved to sample wines. However, it had been a week since he was able to visit the Lighthouse due to getting his affairs in order as First Talon. The last time he saw her, she hadn't been feeling herself. That made him worried. Perhaps the necklace and her favorite chicken curry soup would cheer her up? He wasn't very good at this sort of thing. "All I know is death," he had told her, and he wasn't exaggerating, but he wanted to change that. Lucanis made his way back to the Cantori Diamond where the Eluvian lay nestled in the farthest corner in the highest room of the Diamond, away from prying eyes. He carried his groceries with him in burlap sacks and cloth bags from the market all the way back to the top of the Diamond, his arms beginning to tremble under the prolonged weight. He snuck his way past any Crows that may have been more than willing to stop him for polite conversation as he was still in a hurry. The Eluvian pulsed to life as his presence, the familiar bluish glow filling the small room with soft light. The Eluvian reflected a blurred view of the Crossroads on the other side. He stepped through, turning his vision searing white for only a moment before his surroundings changed to resemble a conglomeration of Arlathan-esque foliage and fractured elvish ruins. The floor beneath his feet changed seamlessly to a patchy dirt path with thin strands of dry grass blowing in a stagnant breeze. He wasn't far from the dock that would lead him to the center of the Crossroads, which was closest to the Eluvian connecting this strange in-between place to the Lighthouse. The spirit of the Crossroads, only known to those who dwell here as the Caretaker, awaited him on a boat that whisked him across the empty space between the floating land masses that made up the Crossroads.

Second excerpt:

Vera "Rook" Aldwir was stuck in the Lighthouse. Not physically or literally, mind you, but she was stuck nevertheless. Her "damned self-reproach" as Neve would call it. And this is unironically what bound her to the Lighthouse, not unlike Solas's regret had formed the lock of the Evanuris's cage. But how could she bring herself to leave? Everything in this place was so quiet  and peaceful as it floated amongst the nothingness. It was strange, yet familiar -- as if time had stopped completely, yet the sky still mimicked the daylight cycle of the physical world. Here, she could think in peace. Or at least that's what she told herself. Whether she was writing letters, sleeping, or simply staring at the nothingness above or below the floating mass upon which the Lighthouse stood, her head was abuzz with thoughts and her chest tight with emotion. And being alone simply made it worse. That's why she never told anyone that she still talked to Varric in her loneliness. She liked to think that he could still hear her somewhere out there in the in-between, even if he was far, far away. Maybe her whispers would reach him one day, even if it took decades to travel the vast spaces of the Fade, wherever he was. On this day -- or night, for she didn't know true time anymore -- Rook read a missive sent to her from the Inquisitor. She was hesitant to open it, truthfully. She almost didn't want to know what the Inquisitor and Solas were up to, as long as Solas stayed far away from her. The missive contained updates such as, "we visited Minrathos again today and the relief effort is going quite well," and "Solas and I are doing fine," and "we hope you're keeping well." Rook simply scoffed. The well-wishes of the Dread Wolf meant nothing to her. In fact, they turned her stomach. As days went by, she wished that she had stuck that dagger right into his heart. She had every right to. But, no. It would have brought down the Veil and the world along with it. No. No. His life force was needed to keep the world as they knew it intact. A lying, conniving, miserable excuse of an elf who nearly destroyed the world was now keeping the world -- or what was left of it, anyway -- from being torn asunder. It was almost laughable. Almost. And maybe it would have been if people like Varric and Davrin hadn't paid the price for his failings. If people like Neve hadn't lost their homes and everything they owned. If innocent creatures like Griffins and Halla weren't endangered because of the wars of humanity they didn't deserve to endure. Rook tossed the missive onto the floor and rolled out of bed. Her black hair, usually tied back in a thick braid, was a tangled, oily mess. Her head spun as she sat upright and got to her feet, unused to the change in elevation. Her left shoulder popped. A slight pain made its way down her arm and her fingers tingled. A wound from her war in Minrathos that still gave her a little trouble. She left her room and overlooked the empty entrance room of the Lighthouse from the balcony. The shadows of the floating bookcases above her head moved slowly without sentience. There were no creaks or moans of an old house, no shuffling of feet on the stone floor, no pages of books being carefully turned, not even the slightest wind moved her hair. She was completely and utterly alone. A sanctuary turned prison, for she couldn't leave of her own free will. Her mind played games with her, told her that she would be better off just staying here in the calm of it all, unbothered and alone -- as long as the food held out. Anxiety, anger, and grief were the locks of her self-made prison.

[tabrisofmars]

But she is a murder doll, let her murder

*Enid walks into the dorm carrying a couple shopping bags*

Enid: It was great just having an afternoon to shop with Divina. We almost never hang just us two. So was Polly good while I was gone?

Wednesday: Tanaka has not screamed bloody murder. My assumption is they are fine.

Enid: Wait. Did you pass our child off to Yoko to babysit?

Wednesday: She volunteered, actually.

Enid:

Wednesday: Have I made a mistake?

*A tree down in Jericho*

Yoko: ... and that is how I found out Bloody Marys had no blood in them.

Polly the Doll: Rip off

Yoko: Right? Oh there he is, Mr 'Give Yoko a C in math'. Remember your line?

Polly pulls on a burlap bag with two eye holes: Yes Auntie Yo Yo

Yoko: Good girl. Now go get 'em.

Polly jumps from the tree: DEATH FROM ABOVE!

*man's voice* OH Jesus christ

Yoko pulls out a written note: Three down. Next is that cashier who gave me the wrong change.

*man's voice* My Leg!

[nosydogsoaps]

here's a fun new thing I've got for this upcoming shop drop…! 🐕👜SCRATCH'S MYSTERY BAG.

each bag includes 3 mystery soaps, a 4” Scratch vinyl sticker, and ??? assorted mysterious dogs gifts in a burlap pouch. could be... a fourth soap, a candle, chocolates, more stickers, cool rock, ham bone, or a Featherfall potion, who knows.

you choose between ‘Edible??’ and ‘Inedible??’ options. YOU STILL CANNOT EAT THE SOAPS (i want to make this so clear) but the ‘Edible’ mystery bag might contain candy, chocolates, chips, strangely flavored mac ‘n cheese, and other fun nibbles.

scratch bags drop TODAY!!! (Friday, 4/26) AT 5PM PST :3

[foxedthecards]

Holiday Vigil [Semi-Open Starter]

Far, far into Christmas Eve night a certain little redhead gathered hat, coat, mittens and scarf and quietly departed from the festivities without a word. Or well rather, a certain reserved gentleman did so in the guise of Jonas, if the golden eyes glancing backwards over his shoulder as he headed out the door indicated anything.

Mr. Fox immediately headed out to the barn, taking care to put as much distance between the animals and himself lest he disturb them. Pulling aside the carefully placed burlap sacks revealed a full formal evening suit in protective plastic as well as a messenger bag. He immediately got dressed, donning coat, hat and scarf and leaving the mittens in favor of his black leather gloves and once more with the bag he headed out again.

His destination lay in the forest grove past Annalise's farm. Here now in the dead of winter, snow lay on the ground, crisp and blue-tinged from the sliver of the moon in the sky and the bare skeletons of trees reached out to a sky glittering with perfect stars.

Mr. Fox took a moment to find a stump and laid his bag down beside it. He took out a simple round mirror, laid it facing upwards on the stump. A tall white candle was placed in the center of it. Round the candle he circled a wreath of poppy flowers.

Lastly from the bottom of his bag, he produced a little tin soldier. He'd gone scouring through antique shops to find the exact right one: a World War 1 doughboy. The enamel was all but worn off but still the little fellow stood there, gun at shoulder, giving a salute.

He placed the little soldier in front of the candle before he carefully lit it and stepped back, shrugging off the bulky coat momentarily to lay it by the log and leaving only the scarf and hat. It was cold but all those years ago on this same night it had been colder. He could bear it.

He clasped his hands, holding them in front of himself closed his eyes and began to sing:

God rest ye merry gentlemen let nothing you dismay...

With barely an interruption of breath, he switched effortlessly to French:

Que Le prophète de l’âme, notre Sauveur, est né le jour de Noël..

to German:

Der gegen den allbösen Feind an uns’rer Seite ficht..

And finally back to english once more

O tidings of comfort and joy...comfort and joy. O tidings of comfort and joy...

Jonas's voice was sadly under-trained and at the moment slightly hoarse from the cold. It also lacked the deepness and reverb his own well-trained voice would have offered the song though he did his best to bring both into Jonas's voice. But it would do. He made up for it somewhat by bringing out the cadence of his accent more, enunciating each word precisely

Lit by the small golden glow of the candle, Mr. Fox continued on with the carol, voice raised above but barely breaking the silver silence of this deep winter night...

[asiajute]

BJSA - Bangladesh Jute Spinners Association

The Bangladesh Jute Spinners Association (BJSA) is an organization that represents the jute spinning industry in Bangladesh. It was established in 1979 with the aim of promoting and protecting the interests of jute spinners in the country. Jute is an important agricultural commodity in Bangladesh, and the country is one of the largest producers and exporters of jute in the world. The jute…

[trashcanplant]

How Do You Know That Song?

Continued from Tired of Things - Grover’s POV

Implied Gore.

“No.. how do you know that song..?” Penny asked in a quiet whisper. Her voice shook, and Grover stared at her. He felt a tightness where his heart used to be.

“I don’t—“

Spots. That’s all he saw. Grover must have blacked out. At first he couldn’t tell what it was but he saw red. It looked like mush on the floor. He looked at his gloves, how slick they were and bits of meat that cling to them. The scarecrow saw himself in a piece of shattered glass as he turned around.

It was all Red.

He approached it, looking at the face he saw. He was smiling, wide and full grin. The burnt burlap pulled it tight. He didn’t know why he was smiling. Grover called out for Penny.

No response.

“Penn? Penny where’d ya go?” He shouted into the room. The whole basement was covered in splattered red, the scent of carnage and broken things. He didn’t know what to do. So he stepped over the odd meat mush on the stairs and he tried to find a telephone.

Grover looked at himself in the reflection of the dark window. All Red. He was staring at himself, holding the telephone when he heard a little click.

“Hello?” Asked a monotone voice in a slightly agitated tone.

“I don’t know where Penny went.” Grover said frankly. This was met by a sigh from Wally.

“Don’t worry about her. Just get whatever you can cleaned up. Make sure to bring her home something peach flavored. She loves peach flavored candies.” Wally said. In his office he was already grabbing an eyeball from his jar. Grover hung up the phone.

Wally looked down at the orange, bloodshot eye. He held it with a sigh.

“You and that scarecrow are trouble together.. every time I try and be nice..”

He squished the eyeball between his fingers, toying with the idea of smashing it and not bringing her back.

“Pop.”

Wally sighed, turning to face the stained glass windows at the back of his office. He held the eye out, approaching the window.

“Father. I think that this should be her last chance. She’s letting the family down, is she not? What use does she have anymore? All she does is rile them up. Both of them. I don’t question your decisions, Father, but Miss Penelope Jane Peaches is responsible for quite the mess.” He spoke allowed. Wally awaited response and fell to his knees. A voice pierced his heart, filling his mind with the answer.

“She Will Have One More Chance.”

“Yes, father.” Wally said, offering the eye upward with his head bowed.

Penny woke up in a cot in the basement. She was in a crumby gown, and as she looked around she saw Wally sitting in a chair in the darkness.

“Good Morning, neighbor.” He spoke flatly. Penny kept herself silent, her voice almost taken from her throat.

“You had a bit of an accident while you were on a mission. Poppy fixed you right up, and I brought you candy.” Wally said, taking a small brown bag from a nearby table. He stood and walked across the room to kneel at Penny’s bedside.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, rubbing her head. Penny couldn’t remember a lot of what had happened, just that Grover was there with her at the Candy Shop. He set the bag down before he looked into her eye. A beautiful, almost amber eye stared back at her.

“Did you know today is your birthday? You joined the family one year ago today.” Wally said with the semblance of a smile on his face. Penny nodded, smiling with faint remembrance.

“That’s right.. thank you, Boss.” Penny said softly as she held her brown bag of candy. She looked down into it and saw a peach flavored lollipop.

“My favorite!” She said with a smile, already sounding like herself again. With that Wally stood up and nodded to Poppy. She had been anxiously cleaning up her feathers in the sink. But at the notice of her boss, she went to sit by Penny.

“Happy birthday, Penny.” Wally said slowly.

Happy Birthday to @cherrythepuppet! Celebrate!

[dpsisquared]

Dimileth modern AU where Dorothea drags Byleth into a lengerie shop for Dimitri's birthday as a joke and Byleth leaves carrying 7 bags.

In one of the winter exchange fics (I wanna say it was nlans' matchmaker treat fic), Byleth is super focused on doing all the "right" relationship things so he's trying out all these wacky pet names like grapenut lol, because that's what you're SUPPOSED to do. And I think that's very in character. So Dorothea tells Byleth, Dimitri will love it if you wear some of things, Professor~~ and Byleth takes it as marching orders and comes out with crotchless panties and a harness or smth 😅

Dimitri, who would happily ravish her in a burlap sack, walks into a wall/gets a nosebleed/has a heart attack at the sight, so Bylie throws a trench coat over the ensemble and proceeds to slowly torture him to death in the ER

[izzy-b-hands]

"I'm gonna stab him," Jim mutters. "What are these for anyway?"

"Frenchie and Ed requested additional notions," Izzy sighs, a woven basket on one arm, already half full of fabric. "For the new crew uniforms and I'm not entirely sure what else. Not my place to ask."

"Why would any of that need to be a secret?"

"It isn't," Izzy replies.

"Then why is he treating it like one?"

"I know you don't want to be here," Izzy says. "If it helps, I don't want to be either. I hate these crowds. Fang's better with them, but do you think he'd let me send him instead?"

Jim smiles. "Wow."

"What?"

"Never thought I'd hear you complain about Ed like that."

They move to the next booth, covered in fabric and a few other crafts.

Including jewelry.

"Wish I knew where the fuck my money was," Jim says, staring down at the earrings. "I take it we're no longer salaried, since my funds disappeared from where I had them hidden."

"Previous to meeting Bonnet," Izzy says, absentmindedly tossing swatches and folded lengths of fabric into their basket. "Everything was kept in one place. You'd get your share of the last raid, and everything unallocated goes into a general fund."

"That's how we're paying for all this," Jim nods. "Cool. I guess."

"It was pointed out that one could see your and Frenchie's money was essentially like your cut of a raid and should be left to you both," Izzy continues. "But that opinion was voted out."

"Fuck," Jim scowls and starts to walk to the next booth. "I'll have to tell Fang thanks for sticking up for us."

"I suppose you will," Izzy calls out with what seems like hesitation. "Go on ahead. I'll meet you further down."

They walk on past yet another sewing and fabric booth, pretending not to think about the teal earring on the previous booth's counter.

They didn't need anything like that anyway. Surviving was the goal, not shopping and trying to match with Olu.

"He's not even here to see it," Jim scolds themself and passes the last merchant stall towards the beach. "You can wait till you find him."

They wander away from the main pathway onto the sand, finally dropping down onto it with a hiss. It's hot, but it almost feels nice on one's legs stretched out over it.

"Literally it's just fabric," Jim mutters after what feels like an hour passes. "How does it take this long?"

They flop back onto the sand and sigh. "I wonder what Ed would do if I ditched him."

"Me?" Izzy's boots push through the sand. "I don't know that he'd care all that much. But if you try to abandon him, right now?"

Izzy sits beside them, a few burlap sacks full of their shopping dropped at his other side. "I wouldn't. Were it me."

Jim waits for the command to get the fuck up amd get moving, but it doesn't come.

"Took a long time to track down the same color of fabric," they comment."It's all mostly black."

"It is, but there's differences in each shade. In the type of fabric. They asked for variety, so I did my best."

It occurs to Jim that this might be a moment Izzy would rather Ed not know about. This softer, tired voice and willingness to rest on the beach, watching the waves crash.

"Here," Izzy searches through one of the bags. "Don't tell Ed."

He motions for them to hold out their hand, and presses something into it.

A necklace, and an earring. Each with a small teal circular charm hanging off of them.

"He definitely didn't say we could buy something like this," Jim says, holding the jewelry as if it might burn them. "Izzy-"

"As if he doesn't use every stop as an excuse to buy new rings," Izzy interrupts. "Honestly, if you wear them and say nothing, he won't notice. He's got other things on his mind."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

The silence lingers for only a moment.

"I don't wanna make this any weirder," Jim continues. "But can you help get the necklace on? I don't want the charm sliding off-"

Izzy takes the necklace gently and moves to kneel behind them.

There's a moment of fear, hidden in the tension of their hand sitting on the handle of their knife.

But Izzy slips the necklace on and secures it without any attempt to garrote them.

"I don't know if you actually have a piercing," Izzy says awkwardly. "So the earring-"

"It's just been a bit since I wore one," Jim interrupts as they force the earring through the slightly grown over piercing in their left ear. "Hurts, but it still fits."

"We should head back," Izzy says, and stands from the sand with a groan. "There might be lunch leftover for us if we're lucky."

"Stew again?"

Izzy nods.

"Great," Jim mutters, and pulls themself up. "Or we could get something actually edible here."

They watch Izzy process it, the wheels nearly audibly turning.

"So long as we finish it before we get back," Izzy says. "That, or we get enough to share."

"May as well."

They make their way back towards the main path, sand shifting beneath their feet.

"And thanks," Jim continues, focusing on the horizon. "For the..."

"Would be hypocritical of me," Izzy shrugs, and gestures to the ring on the knot of his cravat. "To say you shouldn't want something that reminds you of someone else."

Jim lets Izzy get slightly ahead, and studies him.

As soon as they're back, this version of Izzy will almost definitely disappear. But now there's the question itching at the back of their head: is it because he wants it to, because he feels he has to, or because he doesn't know how else to be.

The situation at hand, frankly, sucks. But the experiment of finding out when and where Izzy lets himself relax is weirdly interesting.

That, and what might it take to convince that relaxed, sentimental, secret jewelry purchasing Izzy to help them get Olu back.