#I really like the pot of gold one tbh

[cardinalphlox]

hallo!! Im back :3

The snail one took 52 images be grateful /hvyj

[julymusings]

Can we also get a desi reader for Tim, Bruce, and aged up damian, please?

Bruce Wayne x South Asian!Reader

ok i did say whatever you ask is yours...but tbh i'm not much of an anyone-other-than-jason-or-dick girlie (i knowww i'm sorry). maybe in the future i'll write for the others but for now here's some bruce content. hope it's okay pleeease don't hate me. also sorry this took literally 50 years i was going thru some stuff💀

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

I think he’d try really hard to impress you by taking you to those super fancy Michelin star Indian fusion restaurants. They’re good but don’t have quite the same charm as home cooked Indian food, so you bring him back to your place and cook for him.

I’m gonna be real here…all that man really needs is a kiss and one of grandma’s recipes. You feed him a bite straight from the pot and the softness and intimacy of the action alone almost has him in tears, never mind the love and warmth of a home cooked meal

You two come back to your place late one night after an event and you’re craving some comfort food, so you heat up some leftover rice with ghee and jaggery, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction when he tries it, but when you guys have a fight that results in you not seeing each other for a few days, when you finally return to the manor Alfred informs you that was the only thing he ate because it reminds him of you and he missed you😭

I imagine not being very used to how much money he has, so some of the wealthy stuff he does is kinda weird to you. Seriously, this man has been a billionaire his entire life, so you can’t tell me that at least a morsel of Brucie Wayne’s financial out-of-touchness isn’t a tiny bit real

You tell him that in your culture, it’s common to gift gold at really special milestones/occasions. But he gets carried away.

He buys you a bunch of gold jewelry, like for every occasion and it’s like…real, solid, 22k gold. You try to tell him that it’s too much and you don’t need anymore and please stop buying it but he’s just like “why🤨🤨? That gold necklace was only a thousand dollars that’s so cheap” and you make him stand in the corner

I think he’d feel so weird about not wearing shoes at your place but you make him get used to it🤷‍♀️

He’s a genius fr so he picks up your language very easily

You love the super extra Uber-dramatic soap operas and it’s a guilty pleasure of yours to watch them before bed. I can just imagine the two of you huddled together in bed watching them on your laptop. He makes sure all the TVs in the house have all the channels you like. Eventually he can’t sleep without watching them either😭

I think he’d love certain perfume scents that are from South Asia, and he’d buy you fancy those perfume oils

I’m sorry but…I can NOT see this man wearing a kurta. Like I just don’t think he’d do it.

Lighting incense in the batcave. That’s all

incorporating this ask bc it's relevant:

One day you’re making chai, and you ask him to bring the pot from the stove to the counter for you. That thing^ is lying next to the stove, but he doesn't know what that is. And since he can withstand intense levels of pain without flinching he just. Picks up the boiling pot with his bare hands and brings it to you.

"Why didn't you use the clamp?!" "How was I supposed to know what that thing was!!" You show him how to use it but he's kinda petty ("Why can't you just use a normal pot with a normal handle?! Why are you making more work for yourself?") so he refuses to use it and just keeps handling the pot with his bare hands.

But one day you're deep in conversation while making chai. The pot is boiling and he handles it anyway, but you're distracted and you forget that he can do that. You assume it's not hot so you touch it and burn yourself and he feels sooo bad. He's kissing all over your hands and pampering you for the whole day. He finally gives in and just starts using the stupid clamp.

I hc Bruce as being a consistent meditator. He probably spent a lot of time learning about it while training across the world and it helps him feel grounded and calm. He tries to get his kids to do it too, but they don't all like it as much as him. So if you meditate with him every now and then he really appreciates that.

You try to get him into yoga along with it and he's like...scarily good at it. He's not super flexible like Dick, so he chooses to opt out of the super bendy poses, but his core strength is unmatched. He can balance his entire bodyweight on one limb no sweat. He's not wobbling, shaking, or tipping over. He's still as a statue and he can last for hours. (😏)

If you get married, I don’t think it would be a huge event. Like there would probably be some kind of reception that’s more of a formality/business event than anything else where he puts on Brucie Wayne, but for the actual ceremony I think it would just be the family

He'd fly you to your home country to have the ceremony there at some super fancy historical attraction. Even if it's just you and some other close people, he's getting the whole place shut down for the day just for you.

I can’t imagine needing to step into a stepmom role for anyone? Except maybe Cass, Duke, and Damian when his mom isn’t around. The four of you DEFINITELY gang up on Bruce all the time and make fun of his whiteness.

You’d also totally gift them traditional wear

The first time you make dinner for everyone, you make it spicy and everyone loves it, but Bruce is just sitting there SWEATING

He’s so good at keeping a poker face that you wouldn’t have even been able to tell it was too spicy for him if not for the beads of sweat on his face. You give him milk to help soothe the heat but he never lives it down

But you actually are so mothering to the kids, you make them turmeric milk when they’re sick and chai with biscuits when they come home from school🫶and it's so sweet it makes Bruce fall for you all over again

When you move in the whole wearing shoes in the house still bothers you, but you can’t stop everyone else from doing it, so you declare your bedroom a no shoes zone. Bruce can wear shoes anywhere else in the house but NOT your bedroom.

And if you still feel weird about wearing shoes around the manor, he'll buy you a bunch of pairs of home slippers and stash them all over the place

Whenever you stay over he brings you chai in the morning. Once you're married and living with him, he brings it to you in bed every morning. At one point he's like "You know Alfred can bring it for both of us" but you insist it tastes so much better when it's from him, and he can't say no to you.

me personally i like to support women's organizations in south asia, i.e. access to education and better healthcare which means things like menstrual products & obgyn care so i am going to hc that after you share how passionate you are about those, WE partners with an existing charity for those issues, both in south asia and other parts of the world and raises tons of money to donate...take that if you like it (world so bad we writing fanfic about equality now😭)

Since he's a famous billionaire playboy he 100% has an internet presence (likely curated to fit Brucie) and there are tons of edits and memes about him. When the world finds out his partner is south asian, brown people probably go a little insane and there's definitely tons of those memes where they photoshop his face over someone in traditional wear and caption it "Bajju Wagle" or some other name with his initials LMAO

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

wrapped in red.

‣ pairing — ari levinson x f!reader

‣ contents — oneshot, fluff, tiny bits of angst if you squint really hard, xmas/holiday themed, making new traditions, strangers to friends to lovers, reader is not physically described but is very asian-coded

‣ synopsis — all he wanted was some takeout, yours was the only restaurant still open on christmas eve, and ari gets so much more than he bargained for.

‣ word count — 4.1k

‣ notes — not expecting a lot of excitement for this one tbh, but I was very excited to write it. this is for my fellow asian girlies out there and everyone else who’s looking for some good old fashioned christmas fluff <3

✩ read on ao3 ✩ janie’s masterlist ✩ library blog

It took him a total of eighteen minutes to decide to leave the house. 

The sky was pitch black it was so late, and he knew trying to find a place open this late was a long shot, but his fridge was empty save for half a stick of butter and a jar of pickles. He really didn’t think he could fast for a whole other day, nor did he think himself talented enough in the culinary arts to slap together anything edible out of those two ingredients. 

So Ari drove around the city until he found a place with its lights still on, the open sign hanging askew on the door, and was relieved to see it was a Chinese restaurant. Who didn’t like Chinese food? 

He thought he knew what to expect when he pulled up to the Lantern House. He could see through the storefront window walls painted dark crimson, brightened up just a touch by several umbrella chandeliers. 

Once inside, he saw watercolour paintings of lotus flowers and mandarin ducks and leather dining booths separated by large wooden screens. Carefully-folded cloth napkins were resting on top of plates made of fine china, chopsticks and soup spoons stacked in plastic containers at each booth, and lazy Susans spinning around porcelain tea sets and bottles of chilli crisp, soy sauce, and sesame oil. 

There was a lucky cat perched on the corner of the hostess’s stand, waving at him mechanically as he picked up a menu from the neatly stacked pile. He looked around for the hostess, or any wait staff, but there was nobody else here. He heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen, could see the figure of someone hunched over the stove through the open door. 

Ari perused the menu quickly, glancing up and down the laminated pages, only to realize this wasn’t the kind of Chinese food establishment he was used to. 

Rather than the usual combination fried rice, orange chicken, and beef with broccoli, he was met with menu items like Hainanese chicken and rice, egg bean curd and fried gluten served in a sizzling hot pot, snow pea tips and goji berries in garlic sauce, chilli fried turnip cakes, and—was he reading that right?—blood jello congee. 

What the hell was congee? 

Or blood jello, for that matter? 

“I know,” a voice said all of a sudden, following by the rhythmic tapping of a pen against the edge of a notepad. “Lots’a weird stuff in there, huh?” 

“Uh—” Ari began, not knowing what to say without uttering something inadvertently offensive, halting immediately when he looked up to see you leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. 

His cheeks grew warm for some reason. Maybe because he’d been half-expecting a woman donning a red qipáo with gold threading, her hair twisted up into a bun. Instead, you stood there staring back at him in a black t-shirt and jeans, your midsection covered by a plain red apron, smirking as if you could read his stupid mind. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly and broke eye contact, mentally chiding himself that he should know better. He was no stranger to being stereotyped either, after all. God, he should just order something quick and just high tail it out of here before he embarrasses himself further. 

But then you laughed good-naturedly, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to help him flip to the next page. You smelled like salt and spice and orange blossoms as you pressed yourself to his side, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, peering down at the pages while he stared at the top of your head in wide-eyed bewilderment. 

“It’s not all weird, I promise,” you said, your voice tinged with amusement. “Any food allergies, sir?” 

“No,” he managed to say once he found his voice, “but I like to keep kosher.” 

“Ah, so shrimp and pork are out of the question then,” you nodded, not missing a beat, and he almost wanted to kick himself for not correcting you with his name instead. Then you looked up with an almost mischievous grin and a peculiar glint in your eye, and Ari felt his grip on the menu slacken just a bit. “You’ll need to trust me, stranger.” 

Ari considered this for a moment. He was already here, and he likely wouldn’t find another place that was still open, so he decided that yes, he would. He was nodding before the thought had even finished forming in his head. 

“How do you feel about grouper?” You asked and he blinked a few times before shrugging, not really feeling any way about it one or the other. You then proceeded to excitedly go through the menu items with him, pointing out the specials but also ones that you thought wouldn’t be too adventurous for a first-timer. 

You promised to be right back, giving him one last smile before disappearing back into the kitchen. Ari shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around the restaurant before sliding into a nearby empty booth while he waited for his order of salt and pepper fried grouper and Cantonese-style beef chǎo miàn, all of which came with a free hot and sour soup. 

The place was quiet. Strange for any regular Tuesday night, maybe, but he suppose it wasn’t all that strange for Christmas Eve.

Most people were at home with their loved ones, sitting by warm fires and festively-decorated trees, eagerly awaiting the time for opening presents and dipping carefully-iced sugar cookies into steaming mugs of hot chocolate. 

Feasts of their own had been prepared as they welcomed visitors of all kinds, some they saw often and others they hadn’t seen in a while, not many deciding to brave the cold and snow in search for takeout. 

Except him, evidently. Well, not just him. 

Because the door suddenly opened, triggering the chime of your security system, revealing a middle aged man and two small children brushing freshly fallen snow off each other’s shoulders. 

“Excuse me,” the man called out hesitantly in an accent Ari couldn’t quite place. “You are open, yes?” 

“Yes, we are!” Came your muffled reply from the kitchen, and a few seconds later you came running out with your notepad and pen. You rushed past his table, doing a double take before asking if it was okay if his order took a few minutes longer. Ari agreed amicably, it’s not like he had anywhere else to be. 

He watched as you quickly ushered the family inside, seating them in a booth by the window so the children could watch the snow and twinkling lights outside. Ari tried to mind his own business as you poured them steamed hot cups of tea—an oolong blend that he would later learn was a favourite of yours, named after the iron goddess of mercy—and took their orders while they told you of their holiday plights. 

The man’s wife and the children’s mother was unfortunately stranded in another part of the country due to the snow. She wouldn’t be able to get a train ride home until Christmas night, and as a result they had to postpone their family dinner. Thank goodness you were still open, because he couldn’t cook to save his life! 

Ari couldn’t help but smile when you handed the kids some festive red envelopes to lift their spirits, each containing a chocolate coin wrapped in shiny gold foil. 

And as the night wore on, only a handful more customers passed through the doors. With each visitor, Ari felt the world shift. 

You waved goodbye to the small family as they piled into their car parked just outside the restaurant, not turning away until they were out of the parking lot and out of sight. 

You smiled and listened attentively to the stores of a lonely older gentleman, who had lost his wife just months prior, and was spending the holidays alone for the first time in fifty years.

You cooed at a fussy toddler balanced against the hip of a frazzled-looking young woman who couldn’t have been much older than twenty, all the while packaging up their leftovers with practiced ease. 

They all thanked you with smiles, some clutching your hand with shining eyes before they left, wishing you a merry Christmas and blessing your heart, as if trying to convey something else they couldn’t quite voice. 

Ah, Ari thought as he glanced down at his table, noting the sign in your window that announced you would also be open on Christmas Day. 

Even though most of the world was effectively on pause, you couldn’t close your doors yet. Not when there were people out there, no matter how few and far in between, who needed this place, who needed this small beacon of light on one of the darkest and coldest nights of the year. 

For people like you and him who, for any number of reasons, weren’t celebrating today, or for whom it was just any other day, and who came in search of a warm meal when they had no one or nothing else. 

Ari stayed after all, too caught up in the spirit of the season even though he’d never paid much attention in previous years. His earlier awkwardness and apprehension was quickly forgotten when you arrived with his order, smiling kindly when he didn’t move to leave and brought him a cup of tea, and he ate every last steaming morsel, slurped up every last noodle, and gulped down every last drop of broth. 

Only when his takeout containers were clean and empty and his stomach was full did he actually stop and look up, and you were watching him with this proud little grin. He was helpless but to return the gesture. 

“What’s your name, stranger?” You asked him before he went home, handing him the check on a small tray with a few mints in shiny red and gold wrappers. 

“Levinson,” he said, so used to reciting his last name first. He quickly corrected himself, “Ari.” 

“Okay then, Levinson,” you chuckled, your fingertips brushing against his open palm as you gave him his change. Then you looked at him with the softest smile, your eyes genuine, “Drive safe out there, okay?” 

He nodded politely, popping a mint into his mouth even though he usually never partook. He would only realize later that it was out of instinct, quickly trying to stop his heart’s frantic escape. The minute they hit his tongue, however, he found that they were candies. 

The entire drive home was milky and strawberry sweet, even if it ended with him slumped over with his forehead resting against the steering wheel when he remembered he hadn’t asked for your name in return. 

And so it took him a few more days to decide to return, right before the new year, with only half the reason being the amazing food. The restaurant was much busier this time, but you still brightened visibly when he walked through the door. 

“Levinson, Ari!” You shouted over the noise of conversation, over the hustle and bustle of your busy staff, all of whom turned to look in his direction, “you made it back!” 

You were once again his server, flitting between tables before stopping at his, and he asked hesitantly why you didn’t wear a name tag. You blinked slowly at him a few times, before realizing with a surprised laugh that he didn’t know what to call you. You said it to him while beaming, Ari’s own cheeks almost flaming in a way he hadn’t experienced since his youth, nodding when he repeated it back to you in a quiet voice. 

He made sure you didn’t see him pull out his phone, updating the entry for the restaurant’s number in his contacts. 

How do you feel about grouper?

Without context, it was a strange question to fall in love to. 

Because, looking back, Ari thinks he might have begun that sweet yet treacherous descent from that moment on. 

It took him another six months before he managed to try everything on the menu, after you made substitutes for everything specifically so he could try them. Pork was switched out for chicken or beef, shellfish set aside and fish tossed into the mix in its place, even though they changed the flavour of the original dish. 

“I hope you know what a big deal this is for me,” you’d joke, playfully shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him. But Ari always clocked the way you watched him with bated breath as he tried them, your eyes wide and hopeful without even realizing. He would later wish he would’ve told you that yes, he did know. Did you know how grateful he was? 

Instead, he’d stare blankly at you as he chewed, only faltering and grinning when you groaned in frustration and impatience, practically stomping your feet as you whined, “Just tell me what you think already!” 

And he would cave. Maybe not everything was to his liking, he admitted, but enough of it was that it kept him coming back. 

Among other things. 

It wasn’t long after that that he spontaneously asked you to join him late one night. He was up at odd hours of the night, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to swing by to pick up his order only minutes before closing. You began insisting he could eat there while you cleaned up, and while he watched you mopping the floors and closing the till, he glanced down at his meal and couldn’t help but wonder if you’d eaten. 

It would be nice, he thought, if you sat down with him for a change. When he asked, his heart stuttering at the way you paused and looked so taken aback. When was the last time someone looked after you instead of the other way around? 

There was no one else in the restaurant, the sign on the door already flipped over to say you were closed, and Ari, with all the boldness he could muster, gestured to the opposite side of his booth in invitation. 

You glanced at him a little hesitantly, before looking away and smoothing a hand over your slightly disheveled hair and glancing quickly down at your plain yet sensible attire. With a bit of coaxing, though, you finally put aside your mop and decided to sit across from him after all. 

And if he’d felt the world shift that first night, this was the night he felt it flip completely upside down. 

Ari wished he didn’t have a penchant for leaving things unsaid, that he would have told you what he’d really thought then. You didn’t ever need to be self-conscious; he’d thought you beautiful since the moment you met, and this was how he always wanted to see you. And with each visit, it was just as thrilling to learn you were as beautiful on the inside. 

Instead of the usual cups of tea, you brought out a bottle of chilled plum wine and a set of beautiful glasses that looked like they were saved for special occasions. You giggled when he pointed it out, whispering even though no one else was around that you’d bought it for dirt cheap at a flea market. 

Ari smiled wide then, and soon all decorum between restaurant owner and customer was forgotten as he told you, through a mouthful of ground chicken and chives and a tangy black vinegar dipping sauce, “If I could only have one food for the rest of my life, it would be these fuckin’ dumplings.” 

“Ari,” you chided, using your chopsticks to pick up a rice noodle roll stir fried in a fragrant satay sauce. He thought that it was the first time you’d said his first name, and that it might have been the best sound he’d ever heard. That was until you laughed, the musical little sound making his heart leap. 

And even though he used to joke to his colleagues about how useless of a day Christmas was for him, even though he always used to say it was just another day, it seemed that even he wasn’t exempt from the makings of holiday traditions. 

Because for years after, even when it wasn’t Christmas, you and Ari would sit  together sharing meals in an empty restaurant late into the night. He got to know your regulars just as much as you—

Silas and his boys, the family who had come into the Lantern House the same Christmas he did and began making their own traditions of having family dinner here every now and then. 

Mr. Han, who lives just across the street and always brings home an order of shāomài as an offering for his late wife. 

Traci with an ‘I’, a college student and single mom, whose little girl loved your restaurant’s freshly steamed mǎ lā gāo. 

—and you’d tell him that it reminds you of when you were a kid, when your neighbours all knew each other and took the time to catch up over steamed sticky rice dumplings and fried dough sticks wrapped in rice noodles. 

And when Christmas Eve did come around, Ari would show up at your door like clockwork. Your staff would exchange knowing smiles behind your back, shooing you towards his table despite your protests of how busy it was, more than happy to take on the work in your stead for a change before heading home to their own families. 

So, you would warm him up with a cup of tiěguānyīn and a kiss on the cheek. You would welcome him with open arms, literally, holding him close enough to let his heart beat right next to yours for just a few seconds, but it was enough. More than enough. 

You would point to pictures pinned against the walls of your beloved restaurant, the ones that told your own story in a series of snapshots—tales of parents who were enjoying retirement as they zipped all around the world and sent you endless flurries of postcards, of lifelong friends who you either see often or hardly ever see anymore because life just gets so preoccupying, of the regulars who continued to be drawn in by the promise of hot meals and a warm heart. 

Ari’s eyes would then land on one photograph in particular, swallowing hard to see his own blue eyes staring back at him from your wall, his smile easy and bright despite his normally serious disposition. It was taken on your third Christmas together, and you were leaning close to him in the shot, tucked right against his side just like that very first meeting. 

He wanted you to give him permission, to tell him that his arm always had a place around you so long as he wanted it. And he wanted it all the time, he realized. 

But Ari was never on leave for long. 

The first time he told you about his job, minus all the unnecessary details that were incredibly classified, you did your best to send him off with a smile and well wishes. His work was important and he helped people, and he knew you would never consider asking him not to do it, even if it was rife with danger and uncertainty, even if he could see the part of you that worried he might never come back. 

As the years went on, with each goodbye, you stared up at him as you pulled away from a hug, as if trying to memorize the lines and edges of his face, before tugging him back into embraces that always felt like they might be the last. 

“How will I ever know if something happens to you out there?” You would say, trying to keep your voice light and smiling wryly but looking like your heart was catching in your throat. 

“Aw, you worried about me?” He would joke, even though he knew he looked just as stricken and scared, wanting to say something else altogether. 

As far as the world knew, you and him were nothing to each other. But to him, this was it. He didn’t care what, if anything, ever came of it, or whether it would remain just like this forever. This was all he ever dared to hope for. 

He wanted this to be the only place he ever came home to. 

He wanted to be the one to greet you with a kiss hello, smile as he tasted the sweet mango pudding on your lips. 

He wanted to be the one to wish you sweet dreams with a kiss goodnight, then grumble about the way his mouth tingled with the leftover spice from whatever you had for dinner. 

He wanted so desperately to be the one with the intimate knowledge of how you kissed first thing in the mornings. 

And each time you bade him goodbye, he swore you were breaking off a piece of yourself to tuck into his carry-on. 

Because no matter how far or how long he went, you never really left him. You flooded his memories the same way the smell of winter melon and pork bone soup flooded his nostrils as it boiled away on your stovetop, right from the moment he stepped inside your kitchen. 

“Just because you abstain doesn’t mean I have to,” you’d tease before slurping noisily from your spoon and making obnoxious yummy noises.

You stayed with him the same way the sound of sliced rice cakes sizzling enticingly on oil-covered frying pans never left him until he’s had a bite. You tried teaching him how to make them one time, to less than desirable results. 

“No, I swear it’s good!” You looked at him with wide eyes as you chewed. He would glance back at you, unimpressed. 

“They’re not even fully cooked,” he’d say, but his cheeks were warm as he watched you finish them all. 

And even though you weren’t with him, the thought of you still made him smile the same way he’s seen you grin to yourself, satisfied, after enjoying a mouthful of savoury and spicy dándán noodles. 

“Obviously, I have to try them before I can serve them!” You mumbled through grease-covered lips. “It’s called quality control, Ari.”

“Obviously,” Ari agreed facetiously with a slight roll of his eyes, but the edges of his mouth always quirked up into a half-smile. “You bottomless pit.”

And when his plane finally lands, hours after the clock as struck midnight and signalled the arrival of another Christmas Day, his car makes the familiar turns and detours down the streets. He’s almost breathless when he arrives in a vacant parking lot, and the lights to his very own personal lighthouse are still on. 

The doors open, greeting him with the sharp smoky scent of incense permeating the walls and tablecloths. You’ve told him on numerous occasions that you only light them now out of habit more than anything else, but you still promised to light one for him every now and then. 

“A little prayer won’t hurt, will it?” You’d reasoned with a sheepish smile the very first time you lit one in front of him. “Just in case there is some deity out there actually listening, I need them to know you need protecting.” 

Ari is going to tell you tonight, the very first chance he gets, that he knew he loved you then. 

And with an offering of your now cold pan-fried dumplings placed onto the table next to the burning incense, he’s certain that all the gods are probably scrambling to hear your prayers for just a taste. Or maybe you thought the smell of his favourite food and the lights from the Lantern House in the otherwise moonless night would help guide him back. 

Either way, perhaps it’s okay to think he’s alive because of them. Because of you. 

When you step out of the kitchen, still wearing your apron, wrapped in red just like the very first night he ever saw you, Ari drops his bags to the floor with a careless thud. You open your arms and he falls into them, his hands finding their place on your back to press you close, and he feels like he can finally breathe again. 

His lungs expand with something even lighter and sweeter than air—the smell of salt and spice and orange blossoms. He kisses away your grateful tears one by one under the watchful eye of a nearby lucky cat and falling snowflakes until your mouths touch, and then he’s whispering it between your lips. 

Ari promises to always come back, every single Christmas until time stops and even thereafter, come hell or high water. 

And every year, without fail, you will always be the light that guides him home.

fin.

[sasskarian]

I am BLATANTLY using Veilguard as escapism and have made 3 separate Rooks. I'm still fleshing them out but screenshot from CC are below cut

My so-far "canon" Rook: Kiali

Late 30s, one (failed) marriage, one (lost) child. Joined the Shadow Dragons as a young thing, fighting the good fight. Despite being a mage, and a damn powerful one, they despise how mages hold so much power in Minrathous.

Secretly has a terrible crush on Mae.

They/them, femme-leaning NB

...no idea who they're romancing yet, tbh, but leaning towards Davrin. So far, they've flirted with everyone, and also several inanimate objects (including at least one bookshelf that flirted back).

***

Second Rook: Ashe, of the Lords of Fortune

Mid-20s, a young, bright thing. Cis, she/her, warrior.

The only thing I know about Ashe so far is that she has a personality like Rivaini sunshine, and thinks that one day, she'll be able to impress [LoF leader] enough to buy them a drink without being laughed out of the sparring ring

***

Quickly becoming my favorite, we have Ivy, of the Veil Jumpers (or? Maybe the Crows? Idk yet) (rogue)

(Edir: Nope, she's my Lord of Fortune warrior I guess???)

A mid-30s transwoman, she/her, with an explosion of curls (and a shaved ivy vine underneath them), a pot of gold face paint, and absolutely no time for Solas's bullshit or self-pity.

Ivy was barely 20 when Corypheus almost destroyed the world-- actually worked a while on the fringes of the Inquisition-- and not even 25 when Solas disappeared. Now, she's working with his old friend to stop him, and come hell or high water, she sure fucking will.

She'll never tell him, but Ivy is in love with Varric, in that very quiet way. Despite being a hardass, she is approximately 5% less of a hardass around him. Always makes sure he has a drink, enough food, and keeps the med kits stocked. Varric never runs out of supplies for Bianca with Ivy around. While Ivy is pretty far from a virgin and doesn't experience much in the way of dysphoria, the love isn't really sexual? Not that she'd mind taking the lovable street rabble for a tumble, but it's not what draws her to him.

If she stays with the VJ, she might fall for Davrin or Taash, two who desperately need someone to love. If she ends up a Crow, she finds affection for Emmerich. It's not quite the same depth of love as hers for Varric, but it's returned, which makes it the priority of the two. Emmerich, for his part, thinks Ivy is the coolest thing on Thedas and adores her.

[aliquistis]

New Skyrim playthrough starting with Irem at-Tavani who is a Redguard monster-hunting alchemist from Skaven. I love her but this post is actually bc my new favorite follower is also her husband,

Val Serano

I am being so serious right now, go play this mod.

Gushing about Val and more screenshots under the cut

So the thing I really like about Val as a follower is that he is here for the journey. He does of course have a fully fleshed-out story and personal quests but what I really love is I don't feel like I'm dragging him along to help me with my adventures, he's coming along bc he wants to be in on the adventure too (and, more importantly, the pay out,) I don't know if this feeling is an amalgam of how many lines he has (he has SO many lines reacting to quests) or his personality (relic hunter, knowledge seeker, arcane trickster on the lookout for that next big find that'll have us rolling in septims) but he doesn't just feel like a 'follower', he feels like a companion. The only other custom voiced follower I've really gotten that feeling with has been Lucien, and with how good that mod is I think that's a compliment that speaks for itself.

His personal quests are also really good and work so well with Elder Scrolls lore. I don't want to get into details bc spoilers but seriously, it's good food.

And all that is an aside from the romance, which is also excellent. I'm not roleplaying Irem as ace but I do love seeing some good middle-of-the-road options for ace people like myself who are not sex-averse and love a good fade-to-black. When I first started playing the mod I kept thinking to myself that Val reminded me of characters like Han Solo or Atton Rand (if Atton was way more charming and the writers didn't use him as a punching bag) The whole flirty reformed pirate with a heart of gold thing is ridiculously up my alley. The mod encourages roleplaying and has three paths to romance -- I went with the bickering-to-lovers path because I love a Pride and Prejudice plot and it fits Irem's character.

While your path is locked in at a certain point, you still get dialogue options, which is nice for the relationship I imagine with these two: one which starts contentious and softens over time. An issue I've had with other video game romances is that it treats one selected trait as your whole character (when they even give you the option to roleplay at all). I love that this doesn't see you being a sarcastic bitch 20 times and decide your whole personality is sarcastic bitch. I have layers ok sometimes I'm a sarcastic bitch who cries at the end of tangled

So yeah. The writing is great. The voice acting is great. The thought put into the character and the world-building is incredible. The romance is easily the best I've played in Skyrim (which. ok. low bar but the compliment stands.) tbh I only downloaded him originally because I had a skyrim itch and the Kaidan Revoiced mod isn't out yet, but I have been simply Floored.

Anyways mostly I am writing this because hurricane Milton knocked my home on its ass for a week and a half and I had a lot of electronic-less time to philosophize about how far modding has come and to write fanfiction. But also I'm just banging pots on my small corner of the internet to bring more attention to this excellent piece of work.

the fanfiction bit isn't a joke does anyone know how mod authors feel about cvf fanfic it feels weird to me like I'm playing with someone elses toys--

[not-poignant]

I hope it's okay to ask, but how are things? Looking forward to Underline The Gold on Sunday so much

Omg I'm looking forward to it too

Tbh I'm up to chapter 8 on that now so we're ready to really start pushing ahead with some of the side stories which is exciting

As for me, it's been pretty rough, anon, not gonna lie. I'm going to put this under a read more because I'm pretty honest and also because there's more than one 'I might have cancer' mention among other things:

I kind of thought I was doing fine and then it all got on top of me a couple of days ago and (self-harm mention) I ended up self-injuring due to autistic meltdown. Sometimes I don't realise how bad things really are until I'm at that stage and I have bruises and soft tissue damage to show for it. I've since talked to my doctor and therapist about it, but like...oof.

I've actually been taking a break from writing since I've hit 50k and I generally have a rule that I have to take at least 2-4 days off once I've hit that point, but I'm still pretty stuffed, but mostly for health reasons. I've written 14 chapters this month so I feel okay about the break lol.

On Friday (the day after the meltdown) I needed to have a hand X-ray (even right now, the knuckles in my left hand are really sore), see my GP for 40 minutes, talk to my therapist, organise an iron infusion (I have microcytic anemia and need an iron infusion again, which I think is my 5th or 6th - I need one about once every 2-3 years, and mostly the time between is the slow downward spiral of losing more and more iron until I'm truly fucked) and a meeting with one of the head haematologists in the state because my red blood cells are bullshit and weird (yay). Guess that explains the exhaustion.

I still need to organise a lymph node ultrasound (which is probably nothing, except there is like a 'higher than average' chance it could be metastatic cancer, since I do have tumours in my head right now that could metastasize, and the tumours are extremely close to the swollen lymph node - also I haven't had a virus).

I need to organise a meeting with a dermatologist, I need to organise a full abdominal MRI to see if I have any other tumours we don't know about, and I got an eating disorder management plan for restrictive eating, which does entitle me to like...cheaper dietitian appointments, but also formalises me as having an ED as opposed to 'disordered eating.'

On top of that I had to deal with a tribunal after my Dad had a catastrophic stroke a few months ago, and the tribunal was last month, to determine who would look after him. Our family is so broken and my stepmother so manipulative/vindictive that the government decided no one could be trusted and took care of his finances and healthcare themselves meaning none of us can have any real say in his future (truly the best outcome, but a damning one for the state of the family), and I also had to listen to my stepmother accuse my sister of being a criminal for 20 minutes with completely unfounded lies, and of course, my Dad has had a catastrophic stroke, and that's complicated. That's a whole...

That saga is so much anon, I cannot even begin to explain even the tip of that iceberg.

I've been spending a lot of extra time like scanning family photos and other things and packing items in his home for storage etc. and while that's been done now for over a month and a half, I guess the burn out started some time ago and it's just been slowly getting on top of me. Kind of the 'slowly boiling a lobster in a pot' analogy.

I've been overall quieter on Tumblr as a result of all of this, and it all just...destroyed me on Thursday, and ever since then I've been recovering.

I've just realised it's nearly 1.00am and I swear the last time I looked at the clock - which felt like 5 minutes ago - it was 11.00pm.

Oh and to top it all off I've had vicious 'not falling asleep until 4.00am' insomnia + increased nightmares because my PTSD has relapsed back into 'pretty severe.' So um, managing most nights on 3-4 hours of sleep a night, and that's bad for all my chronic illnesses, of which I have many.

Ah. Yeah. :(

Lemme rustle up some good news for you, anon, because I feel like this is just too much crap.

Bushflowers/wildflowers are really nice right now as it's turning to spring in Western Australia (it's Djilba in the Noongar seasonal system, which I prefer)

Rhubarb is in season so I'm making a lot of stewed apple and rhubarb as a comfort food.

Reading the manhwa Punch Drunk Love and enjoying it.

Asks like yours - even if all of this sounds dire - helps me to undestand that I actually do have good reasons to feel tired and that it's okay to take breaks and that's really valuable (sometimes - though rarely - people use my anon function to talk at me, rather than talking to me as a person, and I just...really value feeling like a person sometimes aslfkjsa) so while I might seem down, this has actually been nice to end my night on. Also you've reminded me that I am super excited/happy to share more Underline the Gold with people

I got some organisational stuff and organising stuff in the house makes me feel good.

I have an extremely good doctor and tbh for a long time I didn't, so like, every good specialist and doctor is worth their weight in gold. :)

I hope you're doing okay and looking after yourself / taking care anon, and that you get something good out of what remains of the weekend. <3 And for everyone who needs one, hugs are on the house.

[kawaii-butt-crust-core]

Rise of the TMNT headcanons because I feel uhhhsodk emotions or something

Warnings: anxiety , gore mention, trauma/PTSD mentions, kidnapping, yelling mentions, claustrophobia mention, if I missed any please lmk ‼️‼️

Donatello ( my favorite hands fucking down )

LOVES "it's always sunny in Philadelphia" and relates to Dennis wayyy too much

( also made a joke about how splinter is frank and he was actually cool with it )

Likes those HYPERBOP and songs like that

At 5am and raph is waking up for the day and he finds Donnie in his room fully awake

"Ive been up for 3 days everything is haunted everybody's evi-"

He also likes twentyone pilots

House of gold, taking my time on my ride, and car radio are his favorites

Actually hates monster ( like the drink ) but he has a can in his room from 2020 that he just poured out for decoration

( honestly I can't even really hate on it I think 2020 just ruined it LMAO )

Has no blankets. Sleeps with a single sheet and a unwashed unsheeted pillow.

Is one of those people that people mistake for way older

Yokai thinks he's at least 18-20 and get so freaked out finding out he's actually just 14

( he loves the attention )

He actually likes HOMESTUCK 😭

( this is based on my friend who likes Homestuck and they remind me of Donatello to some degree )

Has a fan that hasn't had a break since 2016

Maybe longer

Has seasonal depression

He likes to be with April or doing something during the winter because of it to distract himself

April and raph are good with helping him

Leo knows but he knows to just stay out of his way and leave him the fuck alone

And Mikey hasn't really been told because Donnie feels like he's burdening people with his problems ( he didn't even want Leo to know but he just caught on )

He even feels guilty for dragging April and raph into it

Him and Mikey LOVE LOVE LOVED spiderverse

( Donnie got the movie illegally before it even came out )

This mother fucker definitely fell to his knees for spider punk im so sorry

This same mother fucker also probably loved Danganronpa...

He doesn't really like southpark but some episodes get to him

LOVES GHOSTFACE

TO ANOTHER LEVEL

NO ONE CAN LOVE GHOSTFACE AS MUCH AS HIM

Actually probably has purple injected into his veins

"yeah my veins bruise in the blink of an eye and I can't move my body sometimes but so what? It was worth it??"

hates on dream so hard....

DONT HUG ME IM SCARED AKWNWJJF

ALL OF THE BOYS WATCHED IT ( maybe not raph tho actually )

He actually made discord ( idk if I'm even joking or not )

Would this be a good time to add a picture of what I think human Donnie would look like?

Uhhh yeah

Yeah I think so

Ok next

Leonardooooooooo

Just fyi this shit is gonna be so angsty

It will dip I promise

He can't get enough of those "drake the type" memes

But also low-key he is drake

Has a hello kitty clock in his room that actually works for him

He was that annoying ass kid who would say "I can scream like a girl" and then scream to the top of their fucking lungs

The ADHD was tooo muuchhh

So he just basically climbs walls who cares

He's on the ceiling? What's new.

Ok so spieerpunk had don to his knees but Leo was all for Miguel

" NOOOO MY SPIDER PAPIIIII- " *splinter right fucking there*

Daddy issues just crawling out of all of their skin ANYWAYS

Can't draw for shit but loves art

The way he words things makes him sound like a complete gaslighter but he's just stupid

"?? I don't gaslight?? HUH no seriously what did I do?"

The Mario movie possessed him for a while tbh

DIP!

even hours after him returning from the prison realm he was dissociating so bad he was crying to feel something

Just a few weeks later, he isn't better yet by any means he's just ok enough to function

Someone dropped a plate or something ( I probably need to rewatch the scene before I make headcanons for it LMAO ) or dropped a pot, something loud

And he practically went down with it

He fell to the floor and stayed there for a bit

He didn't cry or say anything

Then Mikey tapped his shoulder and he fucking SNAPPED

He will never forgive himself

🫶🏼

The CRUCIAL NIGHTMARESS

*rubs my hands in evilness*

He could feel the same AIR as the prison realm at times

He smelt the same scent

Raph, draxum, and Casey had to sleep in the same room for a while so they would hear him

But sometimes he didn't loudly jerk himself awake

Sometimes it played through and he woke up and didn't make a peep

Sometimes they knew and sometimes they didn't

Most of the time one of them would just wake up because of instinct and see him just frozen

Can't handle gore now

He used to but can't anymore

It reminds him of 1

The kraang

And 2

Seeing his brothers eye all fucked up like that was too much

There were times he didn't even know who he was anymore

He was scared to leave his room for a while and felt such bad guilt for it

While they're out on a mission and Leo's just curled up in his room blowing up raphs phone

Raph wishes he could say something like "oh how the tables have turned" but this isn't what he wanted at all

Uhh ok sudden switch up

HE LOVES BO BURNHAMMMM

Him and Don and Mikey listen to Will Wood

SHAYFER JAMES TOO

JUST THOSE TYPES OF ARTIST

Mixed with late 90s to early 2000s

"erm.... what da flip ;-; NO STFU IM JUST KIDDING STOP BULLYING ME ITS A JOKE-"

Him if he was a hummmaannn

+ maybe some scars on his back

Raphael

Blind in his one eye and low-key has bad eyesight in his other one

He can still see decently but it's pretty much fucked

He likes squishmellows but he knows Mikey LOVES them so if he buys/ finds one, he'll give it to Mikey

He's more of a "childhood stuff animal nostalgia" anyways

Doesn't like to cuss but if he's REALLY scared, he'll let a loud and quick "FUCK -" slip out of his mouth

Or if he's angry hell mumble "this bitch-" or something like that

He feels like he's not doing enough as a brother but genuinely forgets that he needs to take care of himself

Not physically but more so emotionally

He beats himself up when making a mistake even if it was out of kindness

He doesn't think things all the way through and just immediately jumps to "I wanna help people!"

And ends up making a bigger mess so he feels like a bad person

( people have reassured him he's not but he plays back how people get mad at him when he messes up and he doesn't know how to forgive himself if someone got THAT mad at him )

He sometimes just gets this burst of love and just hugs one of his siblings or friends

I think he doesn't develop feelings easily ( infact it's kinda hard for him to, not in a bad way )but one time there was a yokai, about his size, and they really enjoyed each other

He didn't tell anyone but he got her number and they still talk and he might have small feelings for her

The reason he hates being alone because it's a PTSD thing ( that only got worse after the kraang thing )

( he was alone and in danger for most of the movie, the only reason he wasn't freaking out because he knew if he did he was fucked )

And he got possessed before he could even lose his shit

But basically I think he got kidnapped by a hunter and held him captive ( either chained, or in a cage ) for 2 days before splinter found him

( yes they searched for him for 2 days )

The hunter would shoot his gun next to the cage ( or restraints ) he was in to purposely mess with him

And if he cried he would get in his face and start yelling until raph forced himself to stop crying because of fear

It was traumatic

Splinter has his own trauma from losing his fucking kid for 2 days, but it still fucks with raph badly

He still remembers it so vividly that it feels like it had only happened a week ago

So add that in top of the kraang doing what they did to him.....

He was only holding it together for Leo tbh

He can't go to certain areas or he'll start to hear the hunter yelling in his face again, like a hallucination

It's gotten a little bit better over time but the kraang set him so far back

He was also already claustrophobic, but if anyone tries to hold him down now he just immediately throws them off

And hard

Anything that really reminds him too much of the past he just starts freaking out

So he doesn't like to be alone :)

I could do a separate post for this maybe

But moving on

Any early 2000s song from anyone or any 2000 themed song is his SHIT

They did a karaoke night and he did Brittany spears ( yes I know that's like late 90s but yk THAT CATEGORY )

He put on a blonde wig tho and was actually kinda feeling it at some point

He LOVES walking around at night

Just strolling

He loves food. He eats everything

There is nothing he won't eat

He just loves everything

I forgot his scar sadly but here 😔‼️💔

( the nose piercing is fake he's too scared to get one HELP )

Mikey:

This lil shit STEALS

HE USES HIS INNOCENCE TO HIS ADVANTAGE

And I sleeps fine at night with all of it in his room.

ADVENTURE TIMEEE

he loves cartoons

Adult cartoons, children cartoons

If it's animated he wants it injected into his spinal fluid

His music taste is everything

But he really likes indie / indie rock songs

Has all of his art and drawings hung up on his walls

There's maybe one or.two posters he actually bought the rest is his art

Loves spiderverse but he couldn't even enjoy it because he kept looking at Leo crazy with this out of pocket comments

"I wanna pick him up like a baby lion and wash him and feed him milk and release him back into the wild"

"*deadpan* Leo. What the actual hell."

Draxums favorite. Only Mikey knows he's his favorite. If anyone asks drax who his favorite is he says he hates everyone equally and looks over at Mikey

Speaking of drax I think they're vent buddies

Drax vents to him Mikey vents to drax

Drax was very helpful with all of them during the time they were all fucked up from kraang

He even got them into therapy but I'm gonna make a draxum section because I love him ( I lied he's my favorite character, then Donnie)

( God I love drax and Mikey so much let me go on a rant rq )

Apart of draxs training he could definitely pass as a licensed therapist

So if really anyone has some sort of mental thing going on he's there

Even for Leo ( even tho Leo didn't really want his help, that quickly changed tho, again I'll just put this in his section✨ )

But Mikey has these really bad panic attacks that even his brothers don't know about

Only splinter and drax

Splinter is there to comfort him and drax is there to let him talk about it

Mikey doesn't want his brothers to know because he's technically the "therapist" so splinter and drax will never tell anyone

Watched MSA just to make fun of it

Also says cringe shit because he thinks it's funny like Leo

"GYATTTTT....... Y'all know I'm joking right-"

Loves Lilo and stitch

Has an art Instagram with over 1000 followers

LOVES SPICY FOOD

He ate the spiciest chip and then asked for another

Loves spooky month

Fought leo for that damn hello kitty clock

Then stole it

" I'm in your walls :3"

He ate a like 2 handfuls of orbeez when he was 5 before splinter caught him

HUMAN

Draxum:

MY ACTUAL FAVORITE FUCKING CHARACTER AAAAAAAAA

YES I absolutely believe he could qualify as a therapist and he absolutely uses that to his advantage

Leo was still "ish" about draxum but he became a lot more appreciative of him during the times that raph and Casey couldn't be there ( like missions )

He even took time out of work to be there

If he called? He's already almost there

He absolutely a mom IDC he even has the messy mom bun

Mikey calls him dad and that's part of the reason he's his favorite

"honey, it was ruined when she bought it *snaps*" ( I'm sorry ) ( I have to draw this now)

LOVESS BLANKETS

Like all the blankets

The resting bitch face is so real

He has to be leaping for joy happy to maintain a happy face

Goes to Donnies room and tells him to lay his ass down ( he doesnt )

Sends millennial memes to the boys....

*insert a cat smashing on a piano* he's wheezing.

Him and Mikey paint together sometimes

Because he can actually paint super fucking good

Scars all around his body

HUMAN FORMMM

Thats all ill probably make more for April and Casey and splinter

[madfoxx]

listen i loved s2 as much as the next guy but some of the plotholes are just hilarious to me because they employ the fanfiction logic of “i want this scenario to happen so it will just happen” and i feel people aren´t talking about it enough, so here are some of the things that made me go “oh, no beta read huh.”:

1) first question: why the fuck did gabriel delete his memory?? seriously though, i havent seen one single post about this, but i just dont understand!? So, heaven threatens to fire gabriel and delete his memory, which, okay, bad news. and then his solution is to....delete his own memory for them, so now he doesnt remember his own name let alone the love of his life, beelzebub, who he planned to run away with?? WHY??? he left heaven immediately afterwards anyways it literally made no sense and just caused major problems for everyone involved. But i guess the answer is: we needed him to have no memory for the story to happen so that makes sense by ao3 standarts

2) on a related note, why was he naked?? he could have just speedwalked outta heaven in his suit with the matchbox in his pocket, so why strip down?? Again, no reason, but arent you glad we got to see john hamms naked butt, so lets pin that on gabriel being an sweet dumb himbo maybe

3) also, how did he find aziraphales shop while not even remembering his own name? Dont know dont care, googlemaps probably.

4) not really a plothole, but that whole Maggie and Nina getting locked in the bookshop thing was the tropiest trope they pulled this season and it didnt even work because we got nothing from that scene, not even one hearfelt deep conversation

5) this one is a bit pedantic, but how is it that a demon with magical powers has to live in his car? i guess its a character thing and we need to see him at his lowest point but he could literally just miracle himself an enormous pot of gold if he wanted to

6) why would beelzebub order an attack on the bookshop and risk gabriels life? why didnt they simply explain the situation to aziraphale & crowley? well you see we didnt want the story to be over after 1 episode and also we needed a finale of some sort.

7)  i mean the whole attack on the bookshop was just....a thing that happened i guess. kinda strange the demons (especially shax who seems to have at least 1 spare braincell) would dare to kidnap an archangel in the first place. isnt he like, insanely powerful? and they didnt even know he lost his memory, so to them he was just an archangel hanging out on earth because he wanted to. how did they think storming the bookshop and taking him prisoner would go down?

8) tbh i dont really understand why heaven wanted gabriel back so much they would threaten to destroy anyone helping him and then....they just let him just go without any problems whatsoever? feels incredibly anticlimactic and illogical to me but i suppose the season needed some kind of threat to make the romantic elements work

9) this might actually get resolved in s3 but i cant believe Upstairs wants aziraphale - an angel who spend years deceiving heaven and overall just sucked at his job because he was too busy trying to fuck a demon - they want him to be the new supreme archangel of heaven. he literally stopped the last apocalypse a couple of days ago and now he´s in charge of armageddon 2.0? that´ll for sure take some explaining!

there´s a lot more stuff, but these are the most obvious things that have been on my mind since s2 aired. i also want to reiterate that i do love many things about this season despite the writing being all over the place. and no, i dont believe that all inconsistencies will be magically explained away by s3. i think it boils down to neil gaiman saying “lets make a big budget 6 chapter fanfic so david tennant and michael sheen can kiss each other on the mouth. also not beta we die like eric the disposable demon” and i can respect that. 

[dollsonmain]

Photos over the course of the morning:

So, this is the space I have to work with. The only thing I can think of why Rolly would have installed an over-large toilet in the basement bathroom is that he liked to sit there to poop and didn’t want his dangle touching the rim.

It’s very much in the way.

I NEED counter space to work, so moved some stuff around and added a tiny shelving unit that just barely fits into the space between the sink and the wall. The sink leaks so I keep the faux drawer front off of the front of the cabinet...

Wrangled a bench under there for extra storage space. The bench is wider than the table so doesn’t exactly fit.

There’s ONE power outlet. It is a small bathroom. It’s very funny to me that Scott was just shaking his head at his father having run power strips around the bathroom and here I am stuck doing the same thing. Mine’s not zip-tied to the wall, though, and the outlet part isn’t right above the sink. It’s on the back of the too-big toilet. I don’t like having a toilet in my workspace, but no one ever uses it, so it’s just a bowl of blue water. I flush it now and then to keep it fresher and that’s it.

But then I took my small utility carts down there and had to move the table and bench again to make room. I do prefer the table not cutting off half the walkway.

Drying rack is back in the shower. I have to be very careful what I put in the shower because it can and did leak. I also can’t put anything over the back of the toilet because I need to be able to access it if it starts leaking again.

I took out the toilet paper holder and the towel rack because both were in the way. I should take down the shower rod. It’s just tension and installed crooked, but everything I take down reveals lots and lots of holes and missing paint. Rolly didn’t take them down to paint (and apparently doesn’t know how to decide where to drill a hole for a screw swiss cheese walls what the fuck), and I didn’t, either when I repainted.

BUT Pony Cart also needed to go in there, which meant the table and shelf had to come out, and that sucks because that’s all of the counter space. I NEED counter space. I’m used to having an approx 1ft by 1.5ft segment of counter space.

If I hadn’t depressed enough at this point because I’m having to cram myself into a windowless bathroom, I was then. I’m claustrophobic. This was unpleasant.

Right now this is all the workspace I have. If I were able I’d get and install a different sink vanity thing that had some counter space. I can’t do that because money. I was going to put all of my bottles of T.A. on the bottom of this shelf thing but I don’t think it can take the weight, tbh. They’ll go in the shower.

Rearranged a little, again, and that’s better. Dehumidifier will probably be on top of that gold plastic table there, with the hose pointing at the shower drain which is just below it.

I need to take the pony bins down, still, and clean up the kitchen because I’ve made a mess up there dumping things off of workstations to get to the furniture.

I also need to find a place to store the small appliances when they’re not in use. I was keeping the mini crock pot and ozone generator on the table in there, but it’s gone. I’ll need to take my electric kettle down, too. It’s ONLY used for doll and pony hair.

I’m tired. It’s all futile. I comply here, he starts poking his nose elsewhere shrinking and shrinking my space.

Obviously, all work is off until the dehumidifer gets here or else the basement will explode into mold again.

Removing the resin jugs did immediately improve the air quality. Those are out in the garage.

I still need to move the SunBox down, two large and one medium storage unit, all of my dolls, and my computer and things (I’m not sure there even are enough outlets down there to accommodate my computer, not that I really trust Rolly’s electrical work), which I guess will go where the unused sewing machine is.

Act like my stuff is unwelcome in his space, see how he likes having no me near him at all.

[your-pal-nebula]

WordGirl characters feat my OCs portrayed by Bob's Burgers, Compilation Edition (tho some of them don't have my OCs- I just made them cuz they were funny)

-----

Miss Davis: Okay everybody, read the list and find your randomly assigned buddy.

*Silver and Royal Dandy go up and read the list, they both start screaming up not being together*

Miss Davis, desperately editing the list: AHAHAHA, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, SILVER AND DAN JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE PARTNERS.

-----

Cori: When I kiss Victoria under the disco ball, it'll be like we're all kissing Victoria under the disco ball.

Tobey: Okay, well I'm going second, because I don't wanna have to go after you guys.

Silver: I'll go last. I'm fine with that.

Twobrains: WE'RE NOT KISSING VICTORIA.

Silver: YES WE ARE!

-----

Silver: All we need is some gold-colored clay, a hard mold, and one of Ms. Question's coins.

Cori: And the blood of a virgin.

Dandy: What's a virgin?

Cori: I think it's somebody who gives a lot of blood.

Dandy: Oh, my mum's a virgin.

-----

Twobrains: WE'RE ABOUT TO DIE, SILVER, YOU REALLY WANNA SPEND THE LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR LIFE SARCASTIC?!

Silver: NnnnooooOOOOOOOO!

-----

Twobrains: Happy valentines day. ...I didn't get you anything.

LRW: I didn't get you anything either. ...You wanna go make out?

Twobrains: ...Yeah :)

-----

Big Left Hand Guy: YOU'RE GONNA ARGUE WITH ME NOW?! WHILE WE'RE FLYING 30 MILES AN HOUR DOWN A RIVER?!

InvisiBill: YEAH!

-----

Reason: Oh come on, the leak isn't THAT bad.

*him and Rhyme literally have like... 10 pots on the floor for catching water*

Alynxai: Hey gu- AAAAAAA- *trips over all the pots*

-----

I might actually draw all of these someday tbh

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week (Year 4, week 4)

The blue caftan, my first Moroccan drama by Maryam Touzani, and another one starring Lubna Azabal ('Incendies', 'Tel aviv on fire'), this generation's Hiam Abbass. A daring topic about a closeted bisexual tailor who hires a new apprentice while his wife slowly dies. It's extremely slow, and tbh took me a few starts to get into, but eventually it won me over with its beauty, especially the metaphor of the embroidered blue caftan itself which he eventually finishes. 8/10.

*Woman Director

🍿  

“Everyone has their reasons”

First watch: Jean Renoir's The Rules of the Game, a comedy of manners about the haute bourgeoisie in Europe on the eve of World War 2. Banned nearly everywhere for two decades.

As of now, I haven't seen four from the Sight & Sound Greatest 50 films of all time list, ('Beau travail', 'Sunrise', L'Atalante' and 'Wanda'), which I plan on visiting soon.

🍿  

2 with André Dussollier:

🍿 François Ozon's latest film, The Crime is Mine, was an unexpected 1930's-style screwball comedy. A light and fluffy murder bonbon with a lesbian subplot, a feminine message of sort, and Isabelle Huppert as a faded Norma Desmond diva who used to act in the silent movies of “the great Alice Guy”! 7/10.

🍿  Truffaut's worst film, A Gorgeous Girl Like Me, was a chore to finish. No wonder I never heard about it before. An unfunny, unsexy black comedy about a an immoral, horny grifter who was arrested for murder, and the hapless sociologist who fell for her. 1/10.

🍿  

"... Evidently, an Ethiopian in the fuel supply: Seems to me I'm getting the old heave-ho..."

My Little Chickadee, a strange western spoof, with two completely subversive cynics, who really had nothing to do with each other, and yet were thrown here together in a middle of an otherwise-unfunny mix. W C Fields, a boozing, resigned con-man, and Mae West, an eye-rolling, horny sex-pot. How incredible this story 'could' have been, if it was given air to breath, filled completely with one-liners, was not censured, and stripped of all the fake moralities!

🍿  

Now that Jon Stewart is returning to 'The daily show', I discovered that he wrote and directed Irresistible 3 years ago, which came and went without fanfare. It's a mild and old-fashioned political satire about a Democratic consultant, the likes of which were done many times before. But it contained a fantastic twist at the end that made the whole thing absolutely vibrant. Rose Byrne is gorgeous as usual, and Mackenzie Davis felt to fill the moral fulcrum of the movie, and the end showed why. Don't read anything about it beforehand, if you decide to watch it. I saw it twice in the same evening. 8/10.

🍿  

Beyond the Bolex is an interesting documentary about a fascinating man, Jacques Bolsey. It is deftly told by a young director who was not aware that the unheralded inventor of the Swiss Bolex camera was her own great-grandfather. The story of this nearly forgotten pioneer is reminiscent of other giants of the arts, forgotten and now re-discovered: Hilma af Klint, Georges Méliès, Alice Guy-Blaché, Vivian Maier, each of them earned a new comprehensive biography.

(Unfortunately in my view, this one was the blandest of the five, due to the narrator's irritating intonation.)

*Woman Director

🍿  

"Stay Gold". First watch: Coppola's seminal The outsiders, the first of two coming-of-age adaptations he made of SE Hinton novels in 1983. Teenage gang members in a mid 60's Oklahoma town, born on the wrong side of the tracks, with early performances by a bunch of the "Brat pack" members, including young, red-haired Diane Lane, and cameos by Tom Waits, Melanie Griffith, and Sofia Coppola as a child looking for 15 cents. Now I'm off to see 'Rumble fish'. (Photo Above).

🍿  

An Irish Goodbye, a benign trifle about two estranged brothers, one of whom has Down Syndrome, dealing with the death of their mother. Won the 2023 Oscar for live short.

🍿  

3 re-watches:

🍿 “Sometimes you do your best work when you got a gun to your head.”

After reading the New Yorker story about $300K/week script doctor Scott Frank, I had to go back to his breakthrough Hollywood satire Get shorty. And indeed, wow, what a brilliant screenplay, economy of dialogue, elegance and balance, and a perfect cast (each of the 10 top billings stars was born to play their roles here). And so appropriate of him to place the emotional 'Touch of Evil' viewing scene at exactly the 45 minute mark, where it serves as the heart of the story. 9/10.

🍿  “This is your Rubicon. Do not cross the Rubicon!”

My second watching of Alexander Payne's absolutely charming The Holdovers (and the adaptation of the 1935 French 'Merlusse', which I saw last month too). 10/10 again for superb soundtrack and writing-directing as well as general kind-hearted wholesomeness.

I haven't seen 'American Fiction' yet, but in my opinion Paul Giamatti and Da'Vine Joy Randolph deserve to win this year's Oscars for best actors. Also that this will quickly become an American Christmas classic.

🍿 Oh, how I didn't like the heavy-handed Paths of Glory on re-watch. Yes, it exhibited a brave anti-military sentiments for Cold War 1957, but the injustice inflicted by the generals on the privates was laughably outdated. In was nice to see young Joe Terkel, in the second of his three Kubrick roles. And at least, it was the only time that Kubrick raised his own private curtain, by directing his (then-new) wife, as she closed the movie with her tearful cabaret singing. 3/10.

🍿  

The Constant Gardener, my 3rd by Fernando Meirelles (after 'City of God' and 'The two Popes'). It's an adaptation of a John le Carré's thriller about corrupt British diplomats in Kenya, a corporate conspiracy by multinational drug companies, and a love story (which is the weakest part of the whole thing).

I had a mixed reaction to this, nothing serious, won't go into it. The only lasting memory of this for me will probably be the Kothbiro leitmotif. 6/10.

🍿  

Torremolinos 73, a Spanish sex comedy from 2003. A bald, plain-looking man and his loving wife start making explicit home movies in 1973 Spain, after his career in encyclopedia sales ends, and 'become big in Scandinavia'. The premise is somehow promising, but it quickly develops into a ridiculous story about how he becomes interested in legit movies making. He ends up directing one symbolic Bergman-inspired art fart, with none other than young Mads Mikkelsen. 2/10.

🍿  

2 short shorts:

🍿 Dollar Pizza - Food porn of the highest quality makes you hungry: Now I want a slice! No judgement! 9/10.

🍿  The sheep and the flower, a real time (2 minutes) animated movie that fits in 8 kilobytes. Decent graphics, animations, direction and camera work, and the matching music… all in 8kB.

🍿  

Throw-back to the "Art project”:  

Pizza Adora.

🍿  

(My complete movie list is here)

[the1975attheirverybest]

its just so evident that women love shitting on other women to prop him up and i dont care for it. like saying he looks better or happier with one person is just digging at everyone else. or even going as far as to say he’s finally with someone hot when all of these women are objectively stunning? no one’s capable of just being like, she’s pretty! he looks happy! good!

Ohhh bestie were you on here when people were sending asks like “Meredith is not marriage material” or whatever? Like Matty’s gotta trade her in for some goats and a pot of gold coins. I’m sorry, is this the 1400s????

It’s extra painful to me, tbh, cuz like I expect it from other fandoms and their toxicity (I speak as someone who was deeeeeeep in the one direction fandom back in the day and is currently deep in the Harry Styles fandom) but from us 75 fans???? I thought we prided ourselves on deconstructing such sexist behavior. What the fuck is happening to us?

Even the idea that if matty is with someone else it must mean that Meredith’s been misled or whatever. Cuz the woman is always the wide eyed idiot and he’s the rockstar so he must be the one who broke things off or whatever. Yeah. The fandoms sexism is really showing.

[jellycaustic]

Tagged by @shadwife, thank you! :D

Last Song: Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney. Not the sort of thing I usually listen to; I heard this song like a month ago on a marvel AMV and it actually made marvel sound sort of appealing.... Last Show: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I think. Not the new season, some of the older stuff. I don't watch a lot of tv tbh :P Currently Reading: The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and it's taking me forever. I really like it though! Current Obsession: ... ... Man, I don't even know. Feels like it's been a while since I had a proper obsession going :( Last one might have been Creatures, which was like a year ago? I got back into it all of a sudden and went on a cobbing spree; I made these neat "Smashing Honey Pots" that start out as a honey pot, and then once depleted became smashing jugs. I tag: @mellow-sandwich, @pinkcatmints, @dataframe-daze and @viriditys ... and sure, anyone else who sees this and wants to :)

[tsuki-sennin]

Having grown to appreciate her unusually kind form of selfishness, Gira propositions the exceptional Queen Himeno for aid in his crusade in the aftermath of the battle at Ishabana's capital of Flopital. However, before she is able to treat the wounded in the castle, Kuwagon signals the arrival of a newcomer. The silver and gold God Kabuto, who fires upon the King-Ohgers. Yanma, Himeno, and Gira are swept away by Kuwagon's rescue, and God Kabuto pursues them...

So the story goes! Anyways, let's get back to that now, Spoilers, I guess~!

-Oh fuck, he's one of the big boys.

-Wow, that reformation was

-Instant, holy crap.

-Aaaaaaand, they're down! Booooosh!

-Oooooh

-There he is, Kaguragi the bee man.

-His facial expressions are equal parts hiliarious and terrifying.

-Since female bees of all are the ones with stingers, this implies to me that he has T-masc swag, so I think I'm incorporating that into my headcanon. Entirely independently, mind you.

-Anyhoo, I'm now listening to Zenryoku King for the tenth time today.

-Aaaaah~!

-What a lovely place, Toufu is.

-I love seeing Toei go through all these typical high fantasy JRPG settings, it gives me joy.

-I think the one recurring bit they don't do is try to claim the whole setting as just one continent.

-I've gotta ask, does Sebastian get paid? Y'know, a lot?

-I suppose Himeno skipped her bible study. ...can't say I blame her, tbh.

-Girl really said "I'm taking God for my collection."

-I just noticed this, but Yanma's headphones apparently aren't cat-ear ones.

-Ooooooh, remaking the divine in the form of modern industry. That's very thaumatech-y. Like Radiant Historia or uh... Fantasian, I've never played that one.

-Oooooh, grasshopper? I mean, of course there'd be one.

-...Ooooooh, what if there's a moth like Inazuman?

-Racles fucking cheated to wake it up somehow, didn't he?

-Oh okay, just leave Yanma there. Okay.

-Oh fuck, I didn't notice! Where is Gira?

-Good morning!

-Okay, goodbye... Kabutan!

-Kaguragi Jumpscare.

-"You..."

-I absolutely love So Kaku's voice.

-"Hail to the king, dude!"

-Kuroko! ...Oh wait, no, I'm not supposed to take note of you, uhhh...

-Daaaaamn, Kaguragi! You sure have a lot of... wheat!

-"Turning yourself in? Seems like kind of a bitch move."

-Oooooh, oooooh, ooooooh!

-"You! Are a very brave and wonderful man, tyrant boy!"

Gira: ...so like, do you have issues with Racules or- Kaguragi: He is nothing BUT an issue! He works his people to death, attempted to wrest control of my nation's god, withholds his industrial innovations from my subjects... He even made fun of my ponytail by calling it a manbun, even though they're TOTALLY different!

-Ooooooh, funky!

-What a lively place.

-Must be nice to have.

-...wait, so there's more grain in Toufu than anywhere else in the world? ...guess the scale's a lot smaller than I thought.

-"This radish is is covered in dirt and bugs... my favorite~!"

-Wash your veggies before you eat 'em.

-There's God Hachi up there.

-Working hard to claim the fruits of thy labor! That is the Land of Toufu!

-"Sir Gira! ...let your best buddy in the whole wide world Lord Kaguragi handle this!"

-Alright, time to get it!

-Bonk!

-Man, I am just digging this soundtrack.

-Ohger Finish~!

-Aaaaand we've officially given up!

-"Could you like... give us time?"

-Well, he's given up.

-He has far too much drip to care what Racules thinks, Yanma.

-Guess the Shugoddamites still believe in their asshole king.

-...man, I miss Toufu's air already.

-"Shhh, shhh. There's the peasant Gira likes. ...Yeeeees, I look forward to seeing him prostrated before me."

-The Judge.

-There's Rita. There they be.

-"Well, that bitchass loser Racules doesn't wanna help me... which is why I must ask that you provide your aid!"

-"FOOOOOOD!"

-"Yanma, you fucker, keep your gross chopsticks out of the pot!"

-God this is so funny.

-The top of Tikyu's pecking order!

-"Pwease do it for our children!"

-Well, Gira's caught on.

-Slack jawed tanuki... Hey man, Keiwa'd be carrying you guys! ...more literally than anything, but.

-I love you Kaguragi.

-Here they come. The Bugnarak. In the quarry~!

-Fuck you, Dezzy.

-Tomato~!

-"Time for a bit of pesticide!"

-Hatch It!

-Ohgai Busou!

-Hachi Ohger!

-Yoooooooooo!

-Whoa, he's flexible!

-How bold of him.

-Bees. My God.

-This is amazing.

-Shugod Jumpscare.

-Using the lady as bait, smh Yanma

-Oh shit, there he is!

-"...That's not Racules."

-Kaguragi Dybowski. He cheated us all.

-God, this is epic.

-Well, he is giving Gira what he demanded at the start of the episode.

-"You little bitch!"

-Well, Gira sure was quick to forgive.

-Bug Kiss

-Good morning, Kabutan!

-Together!

-King-Ohger, come forth!

-I guess God Hachi picked up Kaguragi during that transition.

-God Papillon. Where's your Chief Justice, eh?

-King, King! King Ohger!

-Man, this dynamic's gonna be the best thing ever once Rita jumps in.

-Thank you, God Hachi.

-Ahhh, the old "attack the parts not covered by the shell" tutorial boss.

-Blown off the mountain.

-Bee Man did it.

-"Apology not accepted. Time to die, Bee Boy!"

-"No dying today."

-Man, Himeno really was about to relieve him of his head. She really is a mantis lady!

-Kaguragi has joined the party!

-"Hohohoho! Leave the scheming to the professionals, hmm? As for you, Sir Gira..."

-Oh wow, he sold them right out!

-Rita Time.

-Goddamn, they're on point.

-"Treachery, assault, attempted regicide, illegal trespassing, obstruction of justice, unlawful consumption of food... swagless behavior. By the power vested in me as Chief Justice of the International Court and Sovereign of Gokkan, I place you under arrest."

-Ohhhhh I've been waiting anxiously to see you, Your Honor.

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

i think i’ve rbed this before but idk but i will give you my fall drink that never fails to delight

first step is to make homemade apple cider, but if you wish you can use store bought, just make sure it’s regular spiced cider and not the sparkling kind. but if you have a slow cooker and you can get your hands on enough apples to fill it up, that’s the best. i’ll put my apple cider recipe under a cut.

once you have your apple cider, make sure it’s nice and hot, put it on the stove for a minute if you need to, but put your hot apple cider in your cup. either fill it all the way with cider and use a chai tea bag, or fill it most of the way and use chai concentrate. add caramel syrup (which is even easier to make at home than apple cider and i bet you already have most or all of the ingredients, i’ll put a recipe for that under the cut too). maybe add whip cream or marshmallows or both, if you’re feeling decadent. it’s delicious!!

hot apple cider recipe:

slice up a combination of your fav apples (i use mostly pink ladies, and some granny smiths) and throw them into your slow cooker until it’s full. if you like citrus, you can add a combination of your fav citrus fruits too, peeled and whole. i usually add one lemon, one lime, and one orange, but you can basically do whatever you want, you could probably add different fruit here too like maybe some cranberries or pomegranate seeds/juice.

once your slow cooker is full of apples and whatever other fruit you wanna add, spice it. i usually use a full cinnamon stick or two for my medium sized crockpot, then add my pumpkin pie spice blend and just kinda eyeball it. if you don’t have pumpkin pie spice blend, it usually has, like, cinnamon, allspice, ginger, and nutmeg. use what you have, think gingerbread or pumpkin pie for the flavor profile.

now that you’ve spiced your cider ingredients, fill your slow cooker with water. then set it to low and leave it be for 12 hours. you can stir it once in a while if you want but you don’t even really have to—tbh, i usually prepare it before bed and leave my crockpot to its own devices while i sleep, so you can just let it do its thing if you don’t have time or energy to stir it.

once 12 hours has passed, take a bean/potato masher and mash up your fruit and spices. at this point, your apples should be pretty soft and easy to mash, same with your cinnamon sticks if you used them. do your best to avoid leaving any large chunks of any fruit, you want it to look like apple sauce or something.

when you’re done squishing everything into a sludge, leave it be again for another hour. you could probably even leave it for longer if you really want but it’ll be ready after an hour.

strain it through a cheesecloth, then sweeten with brown sugar to taste. if u want guidance, i usually use 1 cup of brown sugar for the entire medium size crockpot. you can also leave it unsweetened if you prefer it that way or you have friends who like less sweet things or have sugar restrictions and you wanna share with them. you can strain it and sweeten it all at once, or only enough for one cup at a time. it usually takes a long time to strain ime, so if you’re trying to serve it immediately, one cup at a time may be better for you. if you don’t have cheesecloth, you could prolly substitute coffee filters or very very fine mesh, just know that you may get a little pulp in it, especially if you’re using mesh.

serve it up and enjoy!!!!

caramel syrup:

put 3/4 cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of water together in a pot on the stove. DO NOT STIR. bring to a boil and occasionally SWIRL the pot to combine.

once the water has boiled and the sugar is dissolved, let the sugar water simmer for 15 min or so, until the mixture is a nice golden brown color. still swirl it a few times while simmering. while this is simmering, bring another, separate 1/2 cup of water to a boil (so that when you combine it, it won’t splash so much)

once your sugar water has caramelized and turned a nice golden brown, CAREFULLY whisk in the 1/2 cup of water you boiled separately. it will still splatter, for best results wear oven mitts

add 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract, stir or swirl to combine, and boom, you’re done!

Chai tea bag + lil but of brown sugar + apple cider packet + 16 oz. mug of hot but not quite boiling water

it will not Fix You but like. maybe. maybe.

[carpsurprise]

 ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ flower shop!au sam ... !

→ gender neutral — (they/them pronouns)

→ notes: ok tbh, this is more of a home depot!au because it made more sense for a farmer. but he DOES mention making flower arrangements. give me a break. under a read more so i don’t clog the main tag. tell me if this is boring?? also i’m posting this to ao3. 

→ word count: 1.5k

The deep clinging of brass bells echoed above the farmer’s head as they entered the flower shop, already tinged with sweat on the back of their neck from the weight of the summer. Inside, a boy hunched over on a frail wooden stool sat on his console, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in unaltered concentration. The farmer idly wandered about the store, window shopping to see if any fertilizer would come to mind, or if a bird feeder they had dreamed of happened to appear. 

“Oh, hey! DIdn’t see ya come in, my bad!”

The farmer turned around, face-to-face with the boy from behind the counter. He was sweating, just as they were, a thick pink soaked into his cheeks and neck from working in the sun. The air conditioning was working over itself, whirring out in pained cries to fill the tiny shop with some solace from the outside air. 

“Don’t worry about it.” They smiled kindly. “I’m just looking around.”

He nodded, stepping back from them. His apron was an airy lavender, with the name ‘SAM’ written sloppily above the shallow pocket— thick lines and squiggles danced around his name in a joyous, child-like harmony. Gold stars lined up under his name, some peeling off from the mix of canvas fabric and sweat. The farmer had frequented the shop enough before to know that the employees were not rewarded with gold stars. Ignoring their odd realization, they returned their attention back to the lined shelves, stocked full and neat with fertilizers and bird seed.

“I can make arrangements, too, if you’re in the business for those,” he said, almost stuttering with urgency. The farmer looked at him, assuring him with another friendly smile. Their hopes that he would take this silent cue and step away had wilted. “I can get you one for free. Like, a free sample.”

“It’s okay, I’m really just here to look for some flower pots. I got a little distracted looking at these.”

Sam turned his head, allowing the almost pitiful way he tied his hair up off of his neck to finally be shown. The farmer could not even fault him, not with the way the heat had become near parasitic to the land. Even with the air conditioning roaring above them, the weight of the humidity had still managed to crawl into the shop. Excusing themselves, the farmer made their way to the outdoor section.

“Do you need me to show you where the pots are?” Sam called out, standing on the tips of his toes to see above the display stands.

The farmer turned to face him, waving their hand dismissively. “No, thank you! I’m fine,” they yelled back. “Thank you, though!”

They knew exactly where they needed to be: the spinning rack of seeds and the empty pots. Their time looking for seeds was short, immediately retrieving their learned (by trial and error, unfortunately) knowledge of what seeds would work with the amount of time they had left in the season. The shops’ assortment of pots had expanded since the last time they visited, all beautifully crafter and shaped in fun, different ways. 

Wanting some difference for their garden, they strayed from the terracotta pots and into the fancier ones. Even with tight funds, there was never a more opportune time to treat oneself than when buying plants. The glazed ceramic pots stood out against their company, shining in the sun with its finish and large size.

The farmer’s fingers gripped the lipped edges, spinning the pot around to look for any hidden scratches or gashes. Deciding the pot was beautiful as is, they pulled it out into the walkway further, bending down in preparation to lift it. Despite its hollow center, it carried the weight of solid brick. The soreness that accompanied them radiated in their lower back and arms, eliciting a wince and muffled groan from the back of their throat. 

After pushing a deep breath from their nose, their body still bent over the clay pot, they raised their head to peer into the dark windows of the flower shop. Sam was so floaty before their separation, following the farmer’s heels like a loyal dog— or a late-day shadow— and when they needed him most, he seemed to have vanished. His silhouette inside of the shop was pinpointed easily, with his spiked hair out of his small ponytail, towering in height, and in constant motion. Standing in front of him was a smaller shadow, holding up two bird feeders in their hands.

“Dammit,” the farmer cursed under their breath, recognizing the shape of one they held up. 

Feeling envious of another customer snagging what was supposed to become a treat for themself, they channeled their energy into their shoulders in one more attempt to lift the pot. A sharp pain pulsed in their shoulder once more. They rolled both shoulders forward and backward, looking back into the shop for any hope to catch Sam and flag him down.

Sam’s saving grace had appeared after a few minutes, his head poking out from the shop door. “Hey, they, are you still doing alright out here?”

The farmer’s head lifted, snapped up as if they had been dozing off, beaded with sweat and red in the face. He caught on with an immediate rush, breaching himself into the sun and over to the pot anchored in front of the farmer’s feet. His legs separated from each other, ready to brace the weight of solid clay, just before he paused— with his hand held up to his customer— before letting out a sudden sneeze into his elbow.

Their eyebrows furrowed for a split second, before regaining their composure. “Bless you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Sam responded, lowering himself to cradle the curves of the pot, lifting it and suspending the weight onto the center of his stomach. The farmer jogged before him, holding the door open for him as they returned to the haven of the shop. He thanked them in a strained voice, before continuing to speak. “I’m just allergic to flowers.”

They looked at him carefully, admiring the curves of his face. “Why do you work at a flower shop if you’re allergic to flowers?”

He muttered something under his breath, carefully setting the pot against the counter before dropping it with a thud, retracting his bony fingers quickly. The counter shook under the force of the drop, and Sam hurried himself back to the register with a shaky smile. “I just think they’re pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” the farmer responded simply, looking at the finish on their new pot with a blank look. “I guess so.”

“And my mom really likes them,” he added. 

Picking up the price scanner, he splayed his hands around the curve of the pot, spinning it around. After scanning the same seed packet a few times, he started poking at the buttons of the cash register. The farmer, left to their own devices in their patient waiting, had peeked around the store, looking for any one object to jump out at them— scream their importance— or jog their memory of any forgotten needs. A hanging pot of vibrant red flowers had caught their wandering eye. The bulbs nearly spilled over the sides, vibrant and full of life.

Biting back a surprised gasp, the farmer lifted their finger up to Sam. “So sorry, just give me one moment!” 

Hurrying themself over towards the flowers, they carefully lifted the plastic hook from its hanging home and supported the weight with an opposite hand placed gently underneath it. They returned to Sam’s counter, placing them with the utmost tender care of a gardener. Sam raised his head from the register, looked to the flowers curiously, then back to the farmer. His hand cradled the tag, his eyes scanning across their scientific name in a small, italicized font, with the price and barcode just below it, and the sun bleached caring instructions. Letting go of the tag, Sam reached to grab a paper bag.

“That comes out to,” he paused, looking back at the screen, “seventeen gold.”

The farmer moved their hand to turn the price tag to verify the price.

“Don’t worry about that!” He grinned. “Those are on me.”

“Oh,” they cried out, moving their hand to touch one of the velvet petals. “Thank you so much, that’s so kind.”

Sam shook his head, handing their bag to them with a gentle hand. “I can help you get that out to your care, if you need me to.”

The farmer hummed, eyeing the deep blue of the pot before placing their bag inside of it, setting their new flowers on top. Hugging it awkwardly, they lifted it from the counter. While the pain in their back began to rip into their muscles, it was not nearly as agonizing as lifting from the ground. Sticking their head out from around the pot, they let a strained smile stretch across their face. “I got it, I think. Thank you, though.”

He smiled at them, still pink in the cheeks. “Anytime.” The farmer kept their grin, watching the pink of his face deepen into a reddish tone. “Come back to the shop soon.”

“I guess I’ll have to, huh?”