#THEY WERE IN THE JAM JAR WEREN'T THEY

[completeoveranalysis]

[4]

… WHAT.

W H A T !

HOLD THE PHONE THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

WE’VE BEEN OPERATING ON THE UNDERSTANDING OF DEAD PARENTS SINCE THE START BUT NOW WE’RE COMING IN CLUTCH WITH THE REVELATION THAT ACTUALLY THEY JUST WENT TO ANOTHER WORLD? IN THE SERIES ALL ABOUT JUST GOING TO OTHER WORLDS?

LAVA LAMP WATANUKI PARENTS STILL ALIVE????

LIVING SAKURA AND SYAORAN PARENTS OUT THERE STILL RIGHT NOW?

DO WE KNOW THEM?

HAVE WE MET THEM?

AND YUUKO KNEW

I MEAN ok that’s probably the least surprising thing, since it’s pretty much a given that Yuuko knows almost everything at any given moment, but HELLO PLEASE HOLD THIS PLOTLINE IS RAPIDLY SPIRALLING CLOSER AND CLOSER AROUND THESE MISSING PARENTS AND WHO THEY MIGHT BE

AND THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY OPTIONS!

[randomnameless]

Scourging PK again,

Catherine explains to Barney that so many kitties and doggies in Garreg Mach were there because Rhea loves animals.

Coupled with Catherine’s convo with Dedue about her not acting like an Archbishop, you can’t convince me that when Seteth went with his usual “Rhea no”, Rhea picked a kitty and went to Catherine instead - and Catherine can’t tell her “no” so that’s how Rhea Catherine adopted 50 pets before Seteth put an end to this nonsense.

Cue Dedue catching this story and wondering, if he is the one telling his Highness to not eat the weeds, is someone else enabling him, worse even, encouraging to eat weeds??

Ingrid suddenly feels bad, her brothers told her those plants weren’t weeds, but edible flowers! Hopefully Dimitri doesn’t suffer from stomach pain, right?

Indeed, he survived Ingrid’s flowers, but passed out after trying one of Flayn’s cookies - that were actually made by Rhea, who put Zanado Fruit jam on them, thinking they were for Flayn’s own consumption ! - just like Ashe, Sylvain and Felix.

Hopefully this happened while there was a decrease in sugar importations in Adrestia - which made Supreme Leader focus on something else than the current War.

[spacebaby1]

My Mistake (Sukuna x Reader)

You don't even remember how did you two started to argue but Sukuna had enough so he did what he would never do; he yelled at you, "SHUT UP! STOP SCREAMING AT ME GIRL." You weren't even screaming, immediately you stopped talking and completely shut yourself away from him.

You walked away with the blank look, it was way to early for either of you to argue, Sukuna sighed in defeat when he realised he could've just calmed you down and not argue but being the hot-headed that he was he had to argue. You didn't eat breakfast that morning just stayed in your room while Sukuna made the breakfast and waited for you to come down but you didn't.

Few hours later he entered the room only for you to grab your phone and walk out of the room without looking at him, he heard the TV downstairs and made his way downstairs and check on the breakfast he made for you still there on the table untouched. You were laying on the couch watching random show.

Sukuna sat by the edge of the couch trying to place your legs in his lap but you sat straight before he would reach for your feet. You both sat like that for hour before you walked away to the kitchen again not saying a single word. Sukuna smirked when he saw you reach for the jam jar that he tightened so you'd ask for his help, he got up to help you open the lid but the jar accidentally fell on the ground causing the shattered glass to splash everywhere and you yelped.

"Don't mov-"

"I'll clean it, I-I-I whe- oh the broo-Ouch" you couldn't finish the sentence as you accidentally stepped on the broke glass. Sukuna rushed towards you but you avoided him trying hard to not cry as you pushed your hair behind your ear trying to clean the mess and Sukuna wasn't having it. He could clearly see the floor coverd in your blood so was your feet. Without another word he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, "Don't. move." He pointed the finger at you before getting a broom and cleaning the glasses away throwing them in the trash

Carefully he picked you up bridle style to the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bathtub as he grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet, Carefully he pulled the piece of glass out of your feet earning a gasp from you as you held on his shoulder for support, "it's okay, it's out now, let me wash the wound, Okay?" He softly spoke to you and you just nodded looking down. You winched few times before pulling your hand over your mouth to hold back your cries, "Don't do that, you'll pop a vessel, it's okay to scream in pain, you know?"

You didn't reply, "are you still ang-" Sukuna heard your sobs and stopped talking trying to focus on wrapping the wound before he turned to look at you as you had your head low and were sobbing, "Hey, is it soo painful? Want me to take you to hospital?" He softly held your face rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks encouraging you to look at him. You shook your head, "I'm sorry for acting mean."

He pulled you to his chest, "you weren't mean, I was mean, I'm the one who should apologise, I'm an idiot idiot, please forgive me?" He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, "Hum, Princess? I'm so sorry, I will never yell at you ever again." You hugged him back, "I'm sorry for ignoring you, 'Kuna." He kissed your head, "I love you, you've got nothing to be sorry about, I'll be more careful with my words next time." You chuckled and nodded, "okay,"

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Spooktober. Candy.

Self-Aware! Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald x GN! Reader x Self-Aware!Saigiku Jouno

Description: You, Francis and Jouno make candies.

Warnings and tags: OOC. English is my second language. Fluff. Short

A/N: A short fic for a Spooktober.

_____

You have a feeling of déjà vu. The kitchen table, once again, was holding a mountain of ingredients. Near the window were stacked bags of sugar. Jam jars were next to bowls of fruits. Bottles of food coloring and small decorative wooden sticks were in a shadow of towering milk bottles.

And, once again, the perpetrator, Francis, stand in the middle of the kitchen. He clearly saw the expression on your face.

You weren't amused.

Trying to keep things cool, Fitzgerald lean on the table. For a moment, you thought, that you heard, how poor table creaked. Jouno hummed right above your ear.

"Believe me, [Y/N], it's not a hallucination."

Fitzgerald gave the hunting dog a nasty glare.

"And who asked for your input?"

Jouno ignored him. Instead, he turned his head towards you.

"Do you want to yell? Should I cover my ears?"

You elbowed him. Jouno hissed, not out of pain, but to slightly cheer you up. You were in a need of a good cheering.

"I don't want to yell, but I have questions. Francis, did you get carried away during sales again?"

Francis shook his head with a wide grin on his face.

"You can't be more wrong, My dear Treasure! This purchase was on purpose."

You looked at the table again. Despite the fact, that there is no such thing as "too much food" in a house, where 60+ people live, but in that case, there are too much food. There was no need for so much sugar, jam and milk. Only fruits will be eaten, before they become bad.

"Why." It wasn't even a question. You were tired, and you don't want to deal with whatever it was.

Francis looked proud of himself.

"Candy. We will make homemade candy for Halloween Season."

You slowly blinked. A random thought flashed in your mind, and, before you can think, you opened your mouth.

"Francis, if there is a problem with finances, and we need to start saving up... I have some spare money, so..."

"No!"

Jouno and Francis, somehow, covered your mouth at the same time. Both man looked worried.

"No." Francis repeated. "There's no need. Everything is fine with money. I just wanted to do something new."

Jouno huffed.

"He wanted to cook with you again, Firefly."

Francis glared at Jouno again. You carefully removed the hands from your mouth. You rubbed your temples.

"Just let me get an apron. Want to join us, Jouno?"

He shook his head.

"Why not.

_________

"Did we manage to do it?" asked Jouno, focusing on smells in the air. "Smells fine."

You bit your lip. Spiders from chocolate coated apple pieces looked like they wanted to be put out of their misery. Same for bat cookies... And for pan with dried sugar.

Francis coughed, but pick up one of the candies (that was supposed to be a skeleton, but instead resemble a Stay-Puft from Ghostbusters). Carefully, he ate it.

"Hmm... Not bad. Taste is fine, the looks are..." Francis waved his hand, trying to think of a right word.

"Questionable?" you took a spider apple, taking a generous bite. Yea, not a poison, you can eat.

Francis nodded.

"Yes, we will settle at questionable."

Jouno also taste one of the candies.

"Fine for the first time attempt." agreed he.

Now, you three really need to clean up the kitchen. Goncharov was very protective over the kitchen. Keep it clean, or you will face his wreath.

[writterofstars]

a sugar adiction

Ok, can you imagine a world where Kryptonians’ metabolism requires a lot of sugar, and they also age slowly and have problems if they don't consume enough?

Clark Kent was five years old, though no one would believe it just by looking at him. He seemed like a three-year-old, with chubby cheeks and curious eyes, but with a gaze that Martha and Jonathan Kent had learned to interpret as someone who saw much more than he said. And for some reason, all the sweets in the house disappeared as quickly as they bought them.

“Jonathan, I swear I left a jar of jam in the pantry yesterday,” Martha said, checking the empty shelves over and over again. The jars of honey, the sugar, the cookies; nothing was safe when Clark was around. But what child, no matter how small, could finish an entire jar of jam in a day?

Jonathan sighed, both amused and concerned. “It must be a phase,” he replied, watching the child play among the chickens outside. Clark seemed normal, but the Kents had started noticing strange things. Like how he appeared exhausted if he didn't get something sweet during the day, or how, even though he ate an incredible amount of sweets, he remained thin and small. Very small.

Clark heard the sound of the door and turned to them with a sugary smile, small smudges of jam on the corners of his lips.

“Were you in the pantry, Clark?” Martha asked gently. The boy looked down, part amused and part guilty.

“I was hungry, Mom.”

Martha knelt down to wipe his face with a cloth, her fingers pausing for a moment on Clark's cheeks, soft as those of a much younger child. At five years old, he still had delicate skin and the eyes of a little boy, and sometimes Martha couldn't help but let a silent worry slip into her thoughts. Other kids his age already looked more grown-up, stronger. Clark, on the other hand, was like a mystery.

But the problems weren't limited to his size. There were nights when the boy would wake up gasping, saying that the air felt heavy, as if breathing the Earth’s atmosphere took effort. Martha and Jonathan would find him in the middle of the night, sitting up in bed, gazing out the window at the sky with that melancholic expression that only he had, as if he somehow knew he didn't quite belong to that place.

“What do you see out there, Clark?” his mother would ask, stroking his hair. The boy would smile, not knowing how to respond. He didn't know why, but some nights he felt just a little bit closer to the stars, even though he didn't understand why that attraction existed.

It wasn't just his slow growth or his obsession with sweets. Sometimes, Clark had trouble with his eyes. He said they hurt, especially when he stared at something for too long. Once, while trying to cut carrots in the kitchen, Martha was startled to see Clark staring at the carrot with a strange intensity.

“Mom…” the boy said in a low voice, “I can see inside the carrot.”

Martha stopped, her knife in mid-air. “What do you mean, son?”

“It’s just that… I can see inside things. Like shadows. I see them even when I don't want to see them,” he said, with the confusion of someone who still doesn’t understand what his eyes are seeing.

From that day on, the Kents began to understand that Clark had a different vision, one that sometimes showed him things no one else could see. Martha tried to make him feel that this wasn’t wrong, that it was part of him, but she couldn't help but wonder what else awaited her son.

[eldritch-spouse]

Bregs obsession being a weirdo who secretly collected his cum in a jar who knows how and breg walking in on them slurping it like a regular drink

[Oh, you're so gross. I love you. Fem reader.]

TW: Unsanitary (cum jar TW? I dunno, it's gross.)

He can't really believe it.

There must be something wrong with his mind, with his sight, he's hallucinating. He's finally gone mad and this is what his melting brain chooses to taunt the breeder with.

It could be worse, all things considered. He has to admit that.

Out of all the horrid things a greatly perturbed mind could pluck from its many shelves of unfortunate life happenings, Breg's brain was the least bit merciful- And in the wake of his spontaneous insanity, he's only shown projections of you, eating his cum like it's frosting on a cake.

The monster remains stock still, partially hidden behind the door to the kitchen, black skin shimmering slightly in the pitch black darkness of your home, the only thing providing any light being the open freezer.

Breg didn't plan to get up from bed tonight. Sure, he finds it hard to sleep as many hours as humans apparently require, but that doesn't mean he can't cuddle you or play with your hair while you're deep into slumber. It just so happened that he did nap for a while, and when he woke, you weren't there. This had raised in the male no small amount of anxiety, and he began looking around for his mate. Perhaps it was wise of Breg not to call out for you, because he would have missed this marvel of a sight.

There you were, a decently-sized glass jar in your hand. The type you'd used to store jams or fancy desserts, the substance inside was of a pretty solid white coloration, nothing too off, so he wondered if you were going to cook something at that untimely hour. Said assumption died as soon as little hands unscrewed the lid. His nose never fails him, that was definitely fluid... After a quiet snort, Breg balked.

His cum?

That... Definitely smelled like him.

He sniffed again just to be sure, pelted with his own musk, even if masked by the coldness.

Why- Why did you have a jar of his seed? When did this happen, for that matter? Breg wasn't that surprised, you make him so horny he basically agrees to everything you want when you're touching him, but that didn't make this any less odd.

Some part of him soured. Were you selling it?

Again, his expectations are flung out the window, as the breeder watched you lick your lips, cheeks heated, slipping a single finger right into that mess and shoving it right in your mouth, a string of it falling to your chin. Breg could see your throat shift when you swallowed, making a quiet sigh of what he could only hope was contentment, before repeating the gesture.

He swears to anything out there his cocks never sprung up so fast.

It hurts actually, to get hard that fast. His slit is stretched before having had the time to warm up, Breg bites into his arm to muffle a groan of equal parts relief and mild pain. He can feel the events unfolding before him being burned into his frontal lobe, something he'll keep fresh in his mind for a while to thrill himself with.

It's one of the most puzzling but also erotic things the breeder has ever seen in his time outside captivity. Your short, pretty, now cum-stained tongue laps at slick pink lips and you forgo sucking on your fingers entirely in favor of tipping the jar directly into your mouth.

Oh fuck him. Fuck yes, Gods above yes. You filthy thing.

Breg feels his eyes bulge out under the layer of skin hiding them, stiffening -In many ways- As you almost chug it, audibly swallowing down his seed like it's the sweetest, most addicting treat one could ever hope to taste. You were never the type to waste his offer, now that Breg thinks a little, but he had no idea you loved it this much.

His cocks practically ooze to the floor, he wants to cry out from how hard he is, but the monster doesn't think he could forgive himself if he ruined the moment. The vision. The dream. Whatever the Hell this is, hardly reality.

This has to mean you love him as much as he loves you. There's no other explanation, you want him so bad and you're so taken with him that you'd collect the fruits of your love and eat it. So that it always remains with you at some capacity. Sure, his cocks throb, but so does his heart.

And then you had to moan.

The voice of self-control in Breg sits down and shrugs, telling him to do whatever at this point. His legs power him forward immediately and the monster stalks into the kitchen without so much as a click of claws on tiled floors. He's behind you in seconds, hovering like an unseen shadow, having to suppress the chirp from deep inside his throat when you make a gross slurp.

Do that again and he'll fucking cum.

A fever seizes his arms. He slams the fridge door closed. You're jarringly turned around, the container in your hands tumbling to the ground, thick enough not to break upon contact. Although you yelp and prepare to scream, the air to do such with is forced out of your figure when he pushes you down by the shoulders, forcing you to land on your knees. He'll regret this later, but right now, he's got other, urgent goals in mind.

You can't see anything in this blackness, but Breg gets to ogle you, a wet cock nudging your cheek while the other hovers untouched.

" W- What- "

" Please please please please- " As if he had the mind to say anything else, guiding a precum-soaked member to your lips desperately.

" Breg, I- " There's something akin to shame and timidity in your face.

" Please angel- It'll be quick. I'll come for you, as many times as you want, please I'm so hard. "

You gawk in what would be the general direction of his face, and he whimpers like a kicked dog until you finally slip the insistent length into your mouth, working at it. Breg sighs, then moans, as you focus on torturing the most sensitive parts. He fists his other girth with a fury, intent on keeping his promise.

" You- You don't think I'm gross? " His sweet angel must be joking.

" I think you should just tell me when you want my cum. " He nearly growls, a large hand edging you back to work. " Please harder. "

It doesn't take too long before you get more than a generous reward. It's hot and fresh as it slides down your throat, coats your mouth, chin and chest, the breeder more than happy to let you wring the rest out of him with that eager little tongue.

You seem secretly satisfied. Perhaps, in the dark, you forgot he can see your face perfectly fine. Breg grins as he resumes stroking his members in front of you.

" M-More? " He suggests.

He wakes up long before you. As usual.

Breg's planning on doing some simple errands for you, but of course, he hasn't forgotten your present. How could he?

There's a nasty little smirk on his vastly featureless face as he calmly walks back to your now shared bedroom.

Your bedside table is graced with a hefty, slightly bigger white jar filled to the brim. Warm, and perhaps clumsily cleaned.

Breg kisses your cheek before getting ready to leave.

He loves his mate so much.

[briar-ffxiv]

FFXIV Write #26 - Zip

FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post

Prompt #26 - Zip

The sound of something moving outside the cottage had Jack jumping up to bark at the door. Briar lifted his head from the yarn he was spinning, ears twitching. He set the wool aside and rose, moving to join Jack. He patted the little sheepdog, humming a soothing noise. Briar carefully eased the door open, biting back a groan as Jack shot out.

The sheepdog stumbled over something in front of the door, but caught himself, zipping across the grass as he woofed loudly. The half-Elezen shook his head, looking down and making a puzzled noise as he realized what was on his doorstep. It was a tangle of wild tubers, late-season berries, and mushrooms. Briar knelt to examine it, frowning before a sudden realization hit him.

Sylphs.

They weren't dangerous in the sense of meaning harm, but the little plant-like folk were quite mischievous. Technically, the offering was a gift, but it was likely because they were causing trouble somewhere on his homestead. Briar warred a moment, but couldn't bring himself to cruelly ignore the gift so he leaned into the house to grab a basket, quickly gathering the tubers, berries, and mushrooms, setting them safely inside the door.

Just as he finished, at least one source of trouble made itself known. The indignant, loud baas of the sheep had Briar jogging toward his small stable. Briar heard some banging and a high-pitched voice pleading, only for a Sylph to come flying out at top speed with an irritated Imogen in pursuit.

"Mean fluffies!" the Sylph cried, ironically shooting toward Briar to hide behind. "Only wanted milk!"

Briar sighed loudly, shaking his head. The little creatures technically didn't need to drink anything but water, but they were fond of sweets and milk. He wasn't exactly surprised they were trying to get some on their own. He clicked his tongue and went to Imogen, rubbing the sheep's back and soothing her. Briar looked at the nervous Sylph, shaking his head and gently patting Imogen's swollen side.

Fortunately, the Sylph was clever enough to understand and wilted in disappointment. "No milk? But this one loves it..." They hummed sadly, hovering closer. "Milk is for the little fluffies?"

Briar nodded, considering perhaps offering a few jars of jam. They were normally sweet enough to please the forest-folk. They didn't care for anything they had to chew, which made sense to Briar as they were similar to plants in only needing sun and water, but--

The half-Elezen's thoughts were interrupted by loud, high-pitched shrieks from the orchard. He turned to see yet more sylphs zipping away as fast as their leafy wings could carry them toward the stream. The sharp angry buzzing of his beehives let him know exactly what they were running from. He turned to fold his arms and give the Sylph a questioning look.

The little plant-like creature managed to look contrite as its wings fluttered nervously. "...No honey either?"

Briar stared a moment and sighed deeply, shaking his head and silently gesturing the Sylph to come with him. Despite all the morning troubles they had caused, the half-Elezen knew they didn't mean any ill will. It was getting colder and he couldn't blame them for wanting something nice when the snows were coming.

So in less than an hour, the happy Sylph was heading home with a little woven bag containing two jars of honey and three of various jams, chirping with delight as they headed toward their village. Briar gave them a little wave before heading toward his poor beehives to make sure too much damage hadn't been done.

[loneswaggingranger]

So... my thoughts on the latest season of Sex Education is a little... jumbled, but overall I give it, like, a 7/10. Here's just some of the parts that I liked and disliked (rmb that this is just my interpretation of watching it and is no way conclusive against other interpretations)

Spoilers below!

Likes

I like that Cavendish is kind of a turn-tables situation where queer/left-wing-progressive ppl are at the top of the social food chain. It realistically shows how even in a space where discrimination of any kind is prohibited, there will still be complex issues that need to be discussed, e.g., toxic positivity, accessibity issues etc.

I also like Eric's whole storyline of finding himself with God. I'm not religious or anything, but I feel his storyline are going to empower a lot of religious queer people.

Adam is always a favourite. His actor just brings so much to the table and his performance is always outstanding. His closure scene with Eric was 💖💖

I love that the show confronts Otis' standing of privilige and how he's sidelined his friendship with Eric. I also like how the main relationship that got repaired was his and Eric's. It's nice to see platonic friendships take the center stage over romantic ones.

I love that Maeve and Otis show how an amicable breakup, still full of love, can be. It shows that if you love someone, you'll love them enough not to hold them back.

Maeve's funeral speech, and her scene conversing with Jean at the dining table made me weepppppp.

I also loved the different ways of grieving the show shows with Maeve and Sean. Sean was clearly in pain, and as the older one, he'd probably seen a bit more shit than Maeve. And he was valid for not wanting to do the funeral because of the pain his mother caused him. But also, Maeve's wish to honour her mother one last time was commendable as well. She remembers the good AND the bad of her mother, and that's just really big of her.

I loved the scene with her telling her professor that a teacher's word holds a lot of power.

I love Maeve's arc entirely basically.

Dislikes

O's entire character was... problematic. Like she did quite a number of problematic things that weren't addressed in the storyline at all. Like she presses her way into other's vulnerabilities without them giving her explicit consent. She looks at things that by all terms, should have been left strictly confidential (Jean's paper about Otis, for example) and then brings it up as if it were a completely okay thing to do. I really wanted to like her, like I see where she was coming from and she has really cool style and she's the only East Asian rep for the show. Just, as an East Asian person watching this (though I'm not from the UK), it just felt very othering that the ONLY East Asian rep in the show had to be played against the main character. I didn’t like her because she was the story's antagonist to the main character. If there were other East Asians in the series, I might have felt better about it but like, O being the only one, and also being a problematic character just leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

I really think Adam's storyline could have been integrated more into the Cavendish storyline. Coz right now his just feels like it's hanging on the side with no real connection to the main plot. I love his horses tho.

The show should really have stuck with its existing characters rather than broadening the scope to... Jo, for example. Anwar and Olivia could have been explored. Idk what went on behind the scenes but like, for a final season, shifting the main focus to the main cast and just a couple new ones should have been enough. I love that it's working to be diverse and inclusive, but jam-packing so many different experiences into one last season just felt... jarring for the season's ending.

[maochira]

hehehehehheheheheheheh

can i request reader x demon!barou? ;; and maybe as an extra secnario where reader keeps asking stupid questions about the demon body parts (e.g.: "can you feel it if I touch your horns" "could you lift something with your tail") ykyk

love ya pupsi dupsi mwah

I LOVE THAT SCENARIO HELP

Requests open! - event list

Tags: gn!reader x demon!Barou

First meeting

It's not much more than a regular morning for you. Everything has been going as always. Just when you're in your kitchen to have breakfast, you can't manage to open the jam jar, no matter how hard you try. Out of nowhere, a deep voice asks "You need help with that?" and when you raise your head, you see a tall demon standing in front of you. Of course, that startles you so much that you immediately drop the jar and it shatters into countless tiny pieces on the ground. "That's a great start..." The demon mockingly mumbles under his breath.

General headcanons

-everything about Barou's demon features is big. His wings almost reach the ground (but he keeps them folded most of the time), his horns grow out a little above his forehead and they're like 15cm big and his tail is dragon-like and has a row of spikes going down

-you always fear he's going to accidentally knock something over, but Barou has learned how to be careful, so nothing ever happens. He probably knocked something over once when you weren't around but he'd never admit that he messed something up

-even though his actual job is just to keep you company, Barou does a lot of your housework just because he thinks you can't manage to do everything on your own. At some point, he ends up doing all of it so there's nothing left for you to do

-you jokingly call him your maid sometimes, but every time he starts holding you a speech about what his job is, that you should be thankful for him, and that he'd "leave you if he wasn't connected to you now" (he wouldn't, he got emotionally attached to you after two days)

How you fell in love with each other

You were the first one to fall for him, and it didn't take long. Maybe two weeks? You were almost constantly around each other, after all. Although, you didn't plan on confessing those feelings because you didn't know if you were allowed to date him anyways. After a few more weeks, Barou slowly found himself falling for you as well but he kept denying it as soon as the thought popped up. Although at some point, he got irritated with pushing those feelings away. And since he's going to be stuck with you for who knows how long - possibly forever - he decided he should just tell you how he feels. He already noticed how much you liked him a while ago anyways.

Extra scenario (before you started dating)

"Do you feel that?" You ask while reaching out your hand to touch one of Barou's horns. "I told you not to touch me without asking first." Barou growls while pushing your hand away. "And no, I don't feel that. I already told you I don't have nerves in my horns." - "Okay but..." You reach your hand out once again, this time towards one of Barou's wings, "Do you-" - "Stop touching me!" Barou almost yells as he pushes your hand away once again. Seeing him so easily irritated is funny to you, so you can't help but burst out in laughter. "Okay, okay, sorry." - "What did I do to deserve being stuck with you..." Barou mumbles under his breath and gets ready to continue whatever he was doing before. But you could swear there's at least a slight blush on his face.

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @slowlyholypeanut @isagikisser

[lazybutsmexy]

Rotten Apple

Ghost x fem!Reader (Canary) x Soap

A/N: This is set after the events in Bird Hunting, but is mostly centered around Canary (here [Name] due to her being in a civilian setting) and her parents. Just a lil' bit of lore for BH fans :)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, referenced past child neglect, narcissistic/abusive parents.

Summary: Sweetened apples turn sour when rotten apples are around.

Word count: 2100~

“...Yae think we should’ve brought a leash?” Johnny pondered, and Simon had no choice but to consider his opinion for the next time they went to the farmers’ market with [Name]. Only ten minutes had passed from the moment they arrived, and it only took her catching a whiff of sweetened apples for her to zoom away into the crowd. 

And it was crowded today, with a congregation of people, alone, in couples, or entire families that had decided to brave the unusually sunny weather to stock up on organically harvested seasonal fruits and vegetables, animal products, and other produce made by the same people that sold them in cute little stands. 

[Name] absolutely loved the farmers’ market - Simon wasn’t that keen on crowds, but both him and Johnny were easily swayed by her excitement. The initial plan was for them to stock up on groceries before spending a long-awaited long weekend at Johnny’s cabin in the north. But now she had disappeared to who-knows-where. 

Her stealth had been an important skill during missions, but now it was a problem. Is this how their enemies felt, knowing that she was around there but being unable to find her?, Simon thought, his eyes scanning the crowd from above - luckily, there weren't many people even close to his size. 

“There!” Johnny exclaimed, and took off in a random direction. Simon was hot behind his heels, refusing to lose another one of his partners today. Both men had to struggle to part the crows around them without shoving them aside, and not tripping into distracted kids that wandered around their parents. 

Finally, Simon saw her, but there was something off about her. He couldn’t quite place it before Johnny got to her, his hand brushing her arm. 

“[Na-]! Oh, sorry,” Johnny quickly retracted his hand with a sheepish grin, “I thought you were my girlfriend, you look a lot like her.”

The girl eyed him up and down and quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, “That’s the most awful pick-up line I’ve heard,” she sneered at him, and Johnny couldn’t help but notice that she really looked eerily similar to [Name], from the color of her hair, the shape of her lips, to the scrunch on her nose when she looked at him in displeasure. “And by the way,” she continued dismissively, crossing her arms over her chest, “I already have a fiance, and you can’t afford me anyway.”

Both Simon and Johnny blinked at the woman, who was looking at both of them up and down. Johnny was getting rightfully annoyed at her choice of tone, and was about to turn around when she saw the woman’s face shift into surprise as her eye caught something behind them. “...[Name]?”

[Name] had been about to grab Simon’s shoulder, excited to show him her newly purchased jars of jams while munching away at a caramel apple, but the moment she noticed who was speaking to them, she turned around and shifted through the crowds again. 

Her heart was pounding in her ears and she felt her lungs constrict against her ribs for oxygen. The soles of her feet stung - although her burns were healed, the new skin was still sensitive. She had lost her treat somewhere, but she paid it no mind, eager to find the exit, and wait for Johnny and Simon by the truck. 

However, and she should already know this by heart, Lady luck sometimes is a bitch. 

“...[Name]? Is that you?” The voice made her freeze on the spot, right outside the parking lot, and she felt like a child all over again as she slowly turned around, her eyes meeting her mother’s. 

“...Hi, mom,” she sighed dejectedly, resigning herself to her fate as she saw her father turn around to face her, regarding her with an unimpressed stare, “Hi, dad.”

“Haven’t seen you in years, darling,” the woman spoke sweetly and smiled politely, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It never does when it’s for me, [Name] thought bitterly. It was no different than when she spoke to a stranger at the grocery store, definitely not how one would speak to a daughter. 

“Have you finally come to your senses?” her father was less subtle, crossing his arms over his chest, “Are you finally coming back home?”

“Ah, no, I’m actually on medical leave,” she cleared her throat and straightened her back, finally remembering she was not a teenager anymore, “I have my own place, had it for a while now, actually.”

“Really now?” her mother cooed, “When are you going to get the rest of your stuff from home, then?”

[Name] blinked at her, tilting her head a little in confusion, “you told me you were getting rid of my things years ago, you said you were going to use my bedroom for an office for Trish or something.”

“Oh, we did repurpose your old bedroom, silly girl,” the woman laughed, then shrugged condescendingly, “what we couldn’t give away is in a couple of small boxes in the attic, mostly your childhood photos.” [Name] said nothing - she had already expected her parents to get rid of all traces of her the moment she joined the military, she was only mildly puzzled about them keeping anything. “I'm sure you’ll want those, at least.”

“...You don’t want them?” she asked, although she already had an inkling of what the answer would be. 

“Well, it would be embarrassing to have people asking about you, you know?” her mother sighed, shaking her head, “What would we tell them? It was easier to pretend your sister was an only child.”

“You could tell them the truth,” [Name] retorted, and her father seemed to tense up at her answer.

“Tell people that we have a daughter who whores herself out for a living?” He grumbled, while her mother looked around to see if anyone heard, “what do they call them, barrack bunnies?” 

[Name] bit her lip, her mind unhelpfully replaying the disastrous argument that resulted from her enlisting years prior. “I thought you didn’t care if I died, anyway.”

“But you’re alive, and you owe us,” her mother chastised, her pitch dropping a few tones, “we raised you-”

“Grandma and Grandpa raised me, you were too busy raising Trish.”

“We kept you fed and clothed even though you always rebelled against us,” her mother hissed, stepping closer, “you turned our family against us!” 

“You did that yourself,” [Name] kept her voice down, calm, knowing from experience that getting herself fired up would only give them more power, “you’re the one who started pretending I didn’t exist when I turned ten, saying you wished Trish was your only daughter.”

Her mother huffed and turned her face away indignantly, “and I stand by that.” 

“...I know, you find it easier to pretend I don’t exist than to check whether I’m alive or not.”

“We should’ve left you at the hospital when we had the chance.” 

[Name] rolled her eyes at that. After so many years living away from her parents, the usual quips and threats from her mother hurt less than when she was a teenager. It was a small comfort, to know that she’d grown out of her parents' shadow. “Yeah, that wasn’t very smart of you-” she was stopped by a sound slap, her face turning from the impact. She slowly raised her hand to cup her stinging cheek, and eyed her father, whose hand was still raised.

“You will not speak to your mother in that manner, young lady,” he growled, and [Name] just blinked at him, unsure of how to react without getting herself arrested. 

“And you will not raise your hand against my corporal again, unless you’re ready to lose it,” Simon’s voice was low, dangerously low, and it sent shivers down both [Name]’s and her parents’ spines, although for entirely different reasons. She glanced over her shoulder, finding herself eye-level with Simon’s chest. Johnny stood by his side with a severe expression in his face, one she had seldom seen before. 

Her parents warily stepped back, taking in the two large men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “W-who are you?” Her father stammered - although he would later deny he did. 

“Lieutenant Riley, and this is your last warning,” he grumbled, although he didn’t need to do anything else to intimidate them. They already looked as if they were trying to find somewhere to hide. 

Knowing that her parents were - for once - the ones cowering in fear stirred a newfound sense of power in [Name]’s heart - what was it that Gaz called it? Ah, yeah, scary dog privilege. She found it easier to look at the people in front of them and realize that nothing had tied her to them for a long time. 

The branches of the genealogy tree can also be snipped to one’s content, her Grandma had told her on her twelfth birthday, when she couldn’t grasp the concept of her parents choosing to celebrate one kid’s birthday and not the other’s. 

She had found herself being dropped off at her Grandparents’ early in the morning, while her parents boasted about taking Trish to an amusement park for the day. Little [Name] was heartbroken, and had begged her mom to forgive her for whatever she had done to not deserve a birthday party. But alas, they were relentless, and a lot of screaming from her mom and a backhanded slap from her dad had broken her pleas and made her silent, just like many other times. 

At that time, [Name] couldn’t grasp the meaning of her Grandma’s words, but now that she had grown up, and disappointment had settled in a long time ago, those words rang truer than ever in her mind. 

Even when she was on the brink of death in the forest, seeing them again never crossed her mind, for she knew they wouldn’t care even to visit her grave. 

Keep up with that attitude, and you will die alone, because no one will ever love you, her mother had told her at thirteen, when she started openly questioning the difference in treatment with her twin. 

How wrong she was, she thought. She was far from alone, and she was very well loved. Although her Grandparents were long gone, she had Simon and Johnny right here with her, and Gaz was her chosen brother, and Price was a better father figure than the man in front of her had ever been.

“Burn those photos, for all I care,” she smiled at her mother. It was a calm, detached smile - a polite smile you give to a stranger at the grocery store, not to a parent. “Make it real, that I do not exist for you.” 

And with that she turned around, tugging on Simon's long sleeve as discreetly as she could. Johnny did notice, however, and smirked to himself as he followed after them - Simon would’ve gladly squared up to those two for hours if needed, but he easily relented to her touch. 

Simon opened the truck’s passenger door for [Name] and she sat in silence, still mulling over her thoughts. A warm hand rested on her knee and she looked up to see her favorite pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They looked at each other in silence - there was an unsaid question in his lips, but she could almost taste it. 

“...Let’s go home, okay?” She whispered, her hand stroking his knuckles. He simply nodded and shut the door before climbing in himself. Johnny was already sitting behind her, his lips pressed in a pout as he caught her reflection on the side view mirror, staring out of the window at the pair of strangers that once held her heart in their hands.

After a few silent moments as they pulled out of the parking lot, Johnny reached over, presenting [Name] with a fresh candy apple with sprinkles on top. She took it from his fingers, chuckling to herself at how easy it was for them to draw a smile from here, even though her heart still stung a little.

"Thanks, love," she hummed, pressing a kiss to his wrist and knowing that Johnny was grinning proudly to himself. Simon's hand was warm on her thigh, a welcome weight that grounded her in the present.

She could grow her own tree, if she so wanted, with the people she loved the most.

A/N: poor bby Canary deserved better parents :(

[purinfelix]

Hi! I was wondering if you write for ansu fati too? If you do could you do something about him teasing the reader for the height or playful stuff like that?

special trick ⋆˙⟡ - ansu fati

summary: whenever the two of you fight, your boyfriend takes advantage of your height difference to force you into talking to him w/c: 865

a/n: aaa a bit nervous cus its my first time writing for ansu and i sort of took your request and ran with it - hope you don't mind and still enjoy anon!! tysm for ur req <333

He had done it again.

You let out an exasperated grumble as you made a weak attempt to reach for the highest shelf in your kitchen to get the jar of jam you had bought earlier this week. Despite having a clear memory of putting the jar on the lowest shelf you could reach when you had bought it, you weren't surprised at the fact that it had seemingly teleported just above your reach. Not when you had a boyfriend you were giving the silent treatment to, not when you knew him well enough to know tactics to force you into talking to him again.

It had probably been a couple of months into your relationship when he had first done it - you could remember it clearly. You were mad at him for having stayed out late without letting you know first, throwing you into a flurry of panic causing you to stay up late waiting for him. When he inevitably came home though, with a weak excuse you refused to accept, you went to bed in a huff, determined not to talk to him until he apologised.

That was, at least, until you woke up the next morning to find everything you normally used to make breakfast on the highest shelf of your cupboards - just outside of your reach. Begrudgingly you padded back to your bedroom, shook Ansu awake, and reluctantly asked him - in the tiniest voice possible - to help you. It did little to make you any less mad at him but having been forced into talking to him also forced you into making and eating breakfast together, when the two of you inevitably talked out your issues.

Since then, he had only used this method an additional two times - and each and every time it worked like a charm. And strangely enough, after the second time you stopped finding it annoying as it grew to become more of a silent signalling between the two of you. Ansu's unspoken message to you, a precursor to his apology - one that was softer, a gentle nudge into talking to him again.

But this time you were determined to stand your ground, too angry with him for having forgotten about your plans the night before. You had gotten all dressed up, excited to spend the night out with him - only to receive a text from him saying he'd be staying back late at training. Out of all of the things he had used this tactic to apologise for, this was by far the most inexcusable.

But you needed your jam - and that was when an idea sprung into your head. Carefully, you pushed one knee up onto the kitchen counter and tried your best to reach your precious treasure, with no success. In any other case you would've been slightly impressed at Ansu for how high he had managed to place it, but today this fact only compounded your annoyance. Stretching a little taller, you pulled your other knee up onto the counter as well, knowing full well how risky this was but being too stubborn to care.

"Don't worry, I'm here to get i- woah, woah woah baby!"

From behind you, you heard your boyfriend's smug tone instantly transform into one of concern when he saw you teetering unsteadily. Luckily, you had just managed to grab your jar and were just about to spin around and shoot him a spiteful look. At least, that was what you had tried to do before feeling yourself lose your balance.

You were lucky you had a footballer for a boyfriend, and soon enough you found yourself secure in his arms. The two of you panted, the adrenaline rush forcing you to come to your senses as your sweaty palm caused the jam jar to slip from your hand and thud to the ground. For the first time that morning, you looked your boyfriend in the eyes, watching the worry in his expression slowly subside.

"You alright?" Even after a night of silent treatment and almost injuring yourself, his first response is to make sure you're okay.

"Yes, sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." You sigh, holding a hand up to your temple.

"I could say the same thing," he says, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you stand up, "but at least you're talking to me now."

"Mhm, not like I have a choice," you turn away, folding your arms. You're trying your best to maintain your grudge, but considering the fact he just saved you, it's a little hard.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that," he pulls you back in by the waist, leaning in close to try and catch the eye contact you're stubbornly avoiding. "I'm really sorry about last night, I promise I'll make it up to you."

Finally, you look him in the eyes and your stern expression melts away into a bashful smile. Unfolding your arms, you link them around his neck as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Forget about our plans or my secret silent-treatment-breaking tactic?" You can hear the grin in his voice and you hit his chest playfully.

"Neither!"

[brandwhorestarscream]

angst w/ confort + good end! idw starbee

Angst for the baby asks? That can only mean one thing >:3

Starscream's arguably one of the most stressed out people on Cybertron, with the weight of the world baring down on his shoulders. He has an entire planet to run and a jam packed scheduled all day, every day, without fail. He rarely gets as much recharge as he should. Same goes for refueling. He's run ragged on the daily and his personal medic warns him again and again that he really needs to start taking better care of himself or he's going to burn out. Starscream is well aware, he just doesn't care. He's worked himself raw plenty of times before under Megatron's constant demands and abuse, he'll do it again for the sake of Cybertron and he won't breathe a word of complaint where anyone can hear. Even Bee can't convince him to take it easy.

Then, out of nowhere in the middle of a meeting, Starscream gets strangely lightheaded. One of his audials starts ringing. The room tilts sideways and the only reason he doesn't hit the floor when he suddenly collapses is because Windblade was quick enough to catch him. His spark is pulsing wildly in his chassis and suddenly there's sharp, abhorrent pain in his abdomen. Someone yells for a doctor, and by the time they arrive the poor seeker is on the floor, vents heaving with a concerning amount of energon gushing out from behind his panel straight from his valve.

The diagnosis is jarring, a sudden, violent miscarriage due to perpetual exhaustion and undereating: his body just couldn't support the infant spark anymore and voided his gestation tank when the sparkling reabsorbed.

It's all a huge shock, because Starscream didn't know he was expecting. He'd had no symptoms--at least, not any that he'd noticed--and his system was so swamped and stressed it never pinged him to let him know. The medic gives the order to cancel the rest of his appointments because if he doesn't rest right now he'll drop dead (not really but they've had it with Starscream neglecting his health).

Poor Star is in shock. He's still in a lot of pain, his body still working through dismantling the beginnings of the body and purging it, his spark aching from the zap of the little one remerging with him. His mind is a mess.

He was carrying. Was. Past tense. He's not anymore. He had no idea, he... there was a baby inside him, a tiny fragile life and now they're just. Not there anymore. Its a weird mix of emotions... he's angry, he's sad, he's confused. He doesn't know how to feel. Grief at their loss? He never got a chance to love them, never got to hear the exciting news and react or share it with the sire. It feels like an enormous failure, on his part... he's snuffed countless sparks with his servos and his weapons, but this feels different. Like- Like a betrayal. He doesn't especially want sparklings but they were there and they were relying on him and they were his... and now, they'll never get to exist. They'll never be born, their future will never come to pass. He's robbed them of their life before it could even begin, and something about that leaves a sour, putrid taste in his mouth.

Of coruse, Bumblebee assures him that it's not his fault. Reabsorptions just happen sometimes, they can't be predicted and they're no one's fault. Even if he was eating and sleeping well, even if he wasn't so stressed with work, it still could've happened. Their sparkling didn't suffer, they weren't in any pain, and beating himself up over it won't do any good. He tries to make himself available as much as he can, to support him however he needs. Starscream is a very private person and he struggles with vulnerability even with his partner, so he asks Bee to just give him space. Please. Just let him work through this alone, let him grieve by himself and grapple with his feelings. Bee grants him that, because he knows pushing the matter will just back the poor seeker into a corner and make him bottle it up forever.

Going forward, they don't really talk about it at all. There's nothing at all for a grave or any sort of memorial. They don't know if there were multiple sparklings, they don't know what their names would've been, and Starscream doesn't want to dwell on it. It puts him dangerously close to tears and he does not want to cry over this period of his life. He's cried enough. It's fine.

(He is not fine but he's the type to deny, repress, and avoid. This is how he copes)

It's probably a long, long time before their rainbow baby arrives. Starscream'a sex drive was already in the gutter from the constant overwork and exhaustion, but after his miscarriage he becomes almost squeamish about it. He doesn't want to risk kindling again, even with the contraceptives they were using. He's so afraid of losing another baby, terrified that this time he'll actually know about them beforehand and having them slip away will shatter him. Intimacy becomes a very rare thing between the two of them, and when the medic finds the blip of a newspark at one of his routine check up, he panics. Calls Bumblebee in a rush, practically hyperventilating. He can't do this, not again, he doesn't want to lose another one Bee help me what do I do-

The expectant parents have a long, difficult conversation with the doctor. Starscream is so afraid of losing another one that they discuss a potential termination. He'd rather nip it in the bud than wait and get hurt again if another loss is imminent. But thankfully, it's not. Medic draws up proper health plans for carriers of his frame type and age range, and tailors it to fit his specific patient. Of course, miscarriage is always a possibility, but they can take steps to minimize the risk. If Starscream truly wants to terminate they'll respect his decision, but if his primary goal is avoiding another sparkbreaking loss, they can all do their best to make that dream a reality. The chance of a miscarriage get less and less the further a carrying cycle progresses, after all, and after almost two hours of statistics and planning and fact-checking, Starscream agrees to go through with it. To- To just try, to see if they can make it out of the first trimester safely.

Of course, they do! He follows his doctor's instructions religiously and keeps a low profile so no one knows he's expecting: the last thing he needs is to embolden any potential assassins with his newly delicate condition. The bitties are born safely to his and Bumblebee’s joy, three precious seekerlings. The eldest of whom is a soft blue one they name Rainglow, as a tribute to these triplets being their beloved rainbow babies 💖

[curioushabitforarivergod]

What would've Tom eaten in the orphanage growing up? I love your history posts btw

hiya thanks you!! im sorry this took so long :((

It got a brief mention here, but I found a few new things so, this is kinda an update to a small paragraph I wrote there.

As I mentioned in the original post, food was served in a long dining hall with long tables, not dissimilar to the Great Hall but a lot less nice (no magical ceiling I'm afraid). Meals were generally alright, although largely vegetarian and bland.

Breakfast would've likely been something like gruel or bread with dripping. The probably weren't able to afford milk for a lot of children, although by the 50s children in schools in the East End (and over much of England I think) were given little jars of milk they ate with their school dinners. I'm not sure how far back this goes though, and whether something similar would've been given to the orphanage. I digress though, and I'll return to this in a moment.

Gruel, by all accounts, doesn't sound particularly nice because it was water and oats, but kids seemed to like bread with dripping, which was basically animal fat. It's vaguely unhealthy by todays standards, but it would've been a very important source of protein for Tom who likely didn't have anything else otherwise.

Now lunch gets a little complicated. Because of the way schools worked during the period, students could go home for lunch or bring their lunch to school. Alternatively, some schools provided free lunches to kids who wouldn't have anything otherwise, and I'm not quite sure whether this would've been a thing in the East End which were essentially slums. If Tom returned to the orphanage, I imagine something similar to breakfast would be served. Bread maybe, possibly dry or with a topping that was inexpensive and easy to mass produce, or gruel. Alternatively, kids would often bring potatoes with their name carved into it which schools would heat onsite in ovens. If Tom's school supplied food, it wouldn't be dissimilar to the type of food served at the orphanage, although perhaps, if there were benefactors, he would've had something a bit more fancy like a vegetable stew of some kind. Also, like I mentioned earlier, milk was given out to children, but I think this was more of a post-war thing because people were concerned with children's bone density. My mum can't stand milk to this day because they used to put them on the heaters and the milk would be warm by the time they were forced to drink it. My granny used to swap her milk with the boy who sat next to her because she also hated it.

The fourth option is that Tom simply went without food for lunch. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me — during the 30s, the Great Depression was obviously a huge issue, more so for the people in the area who were largely living sustenance based lifestyles where there would be little or no money by the end of the day. Even with limited government funding during the era, feeding orphans who would never amount to much probably wasn't a key concern.

The thing is though, the way food was structured during this period was that there was typically only one cooked meal a day and that was a midday meal, confusingly called "dinner". So Tom's main meal might well have been this lunch and he might well have returned to the orphanage to have a vegetable stew instead of having a main meal later. I think it's up to personal headcannons at this point, so if you want to decide whether Tom's main meal was in the middle of the day or later, what it was or whether it existed at all, that's all on you.

Dinner, like I mentioned, might have been vegetable stew, but if the main meal was at midday rather than later (like it typically is nowadays, especially in Western countries), it wouldn't have been dissimilar to breakfast. Basically, bread and some kind of topping whether that be dripping, butter or jam (but not both butter and jam because that would be a waste).

Like I mentioned in answer to a similar question, Tom's diet would've been vegetarian because meat was insanely expensive. If he had it at all for Christmas or on Sundays during the 1920s, he wouldn't have had it once the 30s and the Great Depression hit. He also wouldn't have eaten fruit regularly, except perhaps Christmas as fruit like oranges or other citrus was a typical Christmas gift. I don't think Tom would've gotten much sweet food, unless he stole it (very likely) as lots of corner stores sold chocolate bars for half a penny. Alcohol was also particularly common in the area so I imagine if Tom had stayed, he would've stolen alcohol eventually.

[dazed-poltergeist]

A Tree of Fellowship and Love

Pairing: (LOTR) Aragorn x reader x Arwen

Summary: You collectively decide with the fellowship to go on a picnic! No more rings or fighting evil, just a picnic under a big tree with plenty of food to share. Also, you may or may not fall asleep under the said tree at night and get smothered with affection with a certain pair of fantastic people.

Warnings: None in particular

Add. Notes: I simply could not figure out where it would be an appropriate place to have a picnic, considering all the places the characters came from/went to, so I went with Hobbiton. At this point I'm both accepting and denying everything that happened in the story; Aragorn and Arwen walk around as if they aren't rulers of Gondor, Boromir isn't dead, and Frodo, Legolas and Gimli haven't gone to the undying lands, and yet everything in LOTR has already happened.

Masterlist ✧⁠*⁠。

> ✉️ <

{ Hello there! I decided to change this blog to the kind that posts about... anything, really. Since I "converted" into an all-fics-n-shits-blog, I changed the aesthetic aswell. To spice (not exactly) these messages up a lil bit, I'll start adding little things about myself; for example, I'm a cat person! }

- Eero, Jan 2023

It was a relatively uneventful day in Hobbiton, and Sam was describing to you the qualities of the plants he was currently tending to. It was bound to be simple and uneventful if you lived in a place like Hobbiton, but you weren't interested in books and gardening. You wanted to spend time with people, and certainly not like this.

You brainstormed along with Merry and Pippin about things you could possibly do with friends in a place like Hobbiton. You already told them at the start of the brainstorming session that stealing vegetables from a dismayed farmer is out of the question. Merry remembered a big meadow with a large tree - which conveniently happened to be near the village - and suggested that something could be done there. A picnic was the best thing that came to your mind, and the two hobbits loved the said idea.

After a quick trip to the rest of the fellowship's homes it was decided; tomorrow you would have a picnic under a large tree that you are yet to see. You asked Merry to take you to the meadow he had mentioned, and so he did. When the two of you made it there, you were surprised that you had never even noticed it; it looked like the kind you'd see in dreams. There was lots of tall grass and colorful flowers of many kinds, and in the middle of it all, there was a large, green tree that every child would wish to climb on top of. It was the perfect place to have a picnic with old friends.

The next morning you began to prepare food for the picnic you had arranged with the fellowship. Aragorn, Arwen and Legolas got the task of creating sandwiches, Boromir and Gimli had to make drinks, and the hobbits, along with you, were tasked to make desserts. You got plenty of help from the hobbits, for they had a lot of cooking experience thanks to the meal schedule average hobbits had. They decided to cook some blackberry pancakes and bake milk bread.

After a bunch of flour and dough spills, you had finished the bread and pancakes, and packed them up into a basket along with a few plates and a jar of berry jam. The four hobbits went ahead of you to pick some extra blackberries for the pancakes while you were taking your time with getting to the picnic spot. You had only now realized that it's the afternoon.

As you were waiting for everyone else with the hobbits, Peregrin told you about the ents that caused the almost literal downfall of Isengard. He said that although he was high off his pants after that and probably in the middle of it too, he still remembered how uncomfortable it was to sit on Treebeard's shoulder. Meriadoc recalled how Pippin was concerned about not being able to have any children.

While the two aforementioned hobbits bickered about what really happened, you noticed the faces of your dear friends making their way through the meadow. You pointed it out to the hobbits, and the five of you began waving at them in an exaggerated yet adorable way. Legolas was already jogging in your general direction alongside Gimli, while Boromir was carrying a basket with drinks he had made with the said dwarf. Arwen and Aragorn were delighted to see you waving at them like that, and began waving back as the pair walked to the tree.

Boromir realized that nobody had brought any blankets to sit on, so he proposed to go back himself to bring one. But he didn't need to; Gandalf was already coming to the picnic tree with a large, rolled-up blanket under his arm. Now the entire fellowship was together.

You all put the baskets and personal items in each corner of the blanket so it wouldn't fly away with the wind, although there wasn't much wind to speak of. Aragorn took some small plates out of his basket with a few sandwiches, and Boromir pulled out a bottle of apple cider from his own basket. Aragorn finished giving out the little plates as Arwen handed the rest of the sandwiches to everyone.

Boromir was telling Sam about the cider-making process as everyone ate and listened. Every now and then someone would chirp in, until something Sam said reminded Gimli of the stories his father, Gloin, would tell him. Eventually the dwarf retold the story of Thorin's company's travels to Erebor. Frodo felt very proud of Bilbo for traveling with dwarves all the way to the Lonely Mountain, although he himself had accomplished a major feat aswell.

As the hours went by and the sky began getting darker, the members of the fellowship would tell stories from their own lives and from others. Most of the group was becoming tired of the day, and it was becoming evident; lots of yawning and words turning continuously quieter and quieter could be heard.

You only now realized that Aragorn and Arwen had moved next to you, and the latter motioned you to relax and let her hold you. You listened to her without a second thought, and now you were sitting in Arwen's lap as her arms were wrapped around you. Aragorn moved closer to Arwen and put his head on her shoulder.

It seemed that the rest of the fellowship took that as a hint and now began to wrap up their long conversation. Gimli packed the now empty bottles into Boromir's basket, and Legolas put the remaining plates into yours and Aragorn's baskets. Gandalf asked everyone to get off the blanket and move their things, and then rolled up the said blanket like a carpet.

The hobbits also knew that you would stay longer, so they took your basket and left with it themselves. Most of your friends followed them away from the tree back to Hobbiton, leaving you, Aragorn, and Arwen under the big tree with stars.

The three of you sat back down on the ground, and tried to get into a comfortable position that would work for three people. You sat back in Arwen's lap, held by her bridal style, as Aragorn sat infront of her. You were now sitting between your lovers, unsure of what to do now; your mind began going to all sorts of places, until Aragorn gave a little kiss on your forehead.

Because you still didn't know what to do, you just froze in place as your face heated up from the move Aragorn pulled on you. Arwen grinned at your reaction, and gave multiple kisses onto your face, causing you to hide your head between your shoulders to get away from the kisses. That didn't stop Aragorn from giving a peck on the top of your head, though, and now you were back in your initial position, embarrassed that they saw you in such a state.

You thought that the "kiss wave" was over when Arwen helped you readjust your position to laying down next to her, but no; oh how mistaken you were. The elf gave you yet another peck on the cheek, and Aragorn came in from your other side and wrapped his arms around your torso, and also gave you a kiss after making himself comfortable.

Arwen put an arm around you aswell, and began whispering words to you in a language and manner you were yet to understand. Aragorn had already closed his eyes, and it seemed Arwen had aswell, although she was still whispering. You imitated them by closing your own eyes, too. You had fallen asleep to Arwen describing you in the best manner possible, even though you didn't understand a word she said.

The pair was actually still awake, and gave each other the look when they were certain that you were now in a sleeping state. Aragorn carefully lifted you up bridal style from the ground, and began carrying you away from the tree, while Arwen was right behind him with the remaining basket and personal items.

Unused paragraphs and things I didn't want to include in add. notes nor the "letter."

Instead of bringing you to your own house, Aragorn brought you to his, for it was closer to the tree and he didn't want to wake you up. Fortunately, nothing that they did disturbed your sleep. They changed into comfortable clothing after putting you into their bed, and then laid down next to you. They both whispered to you a "Sweet dreams, Y/N," and followed you to dreamland.

ー

One time Pippin told you about all of these mealtimes that Hobbits would have throughout the day; which aside regular meals included a second breakfast, an another, later breakfast, some afternoon tea, and yet another meal a few hours after dinner. When you needed something to zone out to, you liked to think of all the good food they would eat at those excessive meals.

To me, Arwen and Aragorn seem to be the kind of people that give the best forehead kisses, or any kinds of kisses in general, and whoever receives them would fucking melt in their hands like ice on a hot day. I definitely would've written their part longer if I was good with writing physical affection (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠ ) im sorry

I only now, after finishing writing this, realized that all of my fanfics' endings so far involve either death or falling asleep. I have a guess to why my ideas end with these things but I don't want to go there.

[nimnomdimsum]

Strawberry Jam

The context of this is that a girl named Millie from the city got stuck on the side of the road and a guy named Ben (hot sexy farmer) helped drive her to his town to the mechanic (also super hot sexy) they spend a few day together and now they making jam cuz Ben grows strawberries

"You pour the hot water into the jars so they don't break when u put in the jam," he said in a grumpy but matter of fact tone.

"I know."

He looked at me strangely, with a hint of disbelief in his eyes "What do you mean you know?"

"I used to make jam with my ma when I was younger"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to stirring the strawberry jam "So yer one of those city girls."

I squinted and tilted my head to the side "What city girls?"

"The rich kind that had a garden in their backyard and 'farmed for a hobby'  the irritatin' ones"

Not feeling necessarily offended but more wronged, I huffed and said "that's mighty rude assuming I was a rich girl that had  expensive hobbies. Not that there's anything wrong with having a cute little hobby like making jam."

He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk "You sayin I'm wrong?"

"I don't like sounding cliché, but yes, my family and I weren't dying of poverty but we sure weren't rich."

"Livin in the city? You were middle class at least "

"I didn't grow up in the city"

"Then where did u grow up, here?" He asked sarcastically.

"I grew up 3 towns away, about 50 miles from the town"

He paused his stirring, his eyes grew wide and he turned to me "You grew up in Yanner? The town of dust?"

"Yup, grumpiest people you'd ever meet", I said with a smile

"Then why you and yer family in the city, no one ever leaves yanner"

"Like I said, we weren't dying and I was smart kid. I got scholarships and my pa was the only farm that had kinda decent soil to farm"

"Fuck, millie, I didn't even grow up that fuckin poor. What school did you go to?"

"The one here actually, It wasn't fun" I smiled

He looked puzzled, does that mean they went to the same school? "why did you hate it, the kids too posh" he said dryly

I giggled " Nah, it was the drive here and back. Spent most of my day in those buses. Woke up at 4 am to get to school and got home at 6pm. Just in time to make and pack jam with my ma"

"School started at 8 and ended at 2, you tellin me you spent 8 hours a day just on a fuckin bus and u still went to school and did ya chores at home???"

"Yup! It was ok tho, got most of my homework and studying done on those buses. So I had a lot of free time when I got home and over the week ends"

"What did u even do on the weekends? Sleep?"

I chuckled "I wish. I was helping my ma sell the jam at this cute little tea shop in town. Ah I fucking loved making jam with my ma, she preped the fruit, I cooked and jarred them"

"Sounds to me u did all the work" he said a bit annoyed that my mom didn't do more with me.

"It was the deal tho, if I didn't want to help pick, clean, cut and peel the fruit, I'd have to make and jar the jam myself. I hated prep"

He shook his head with a smile on his face, of course she hates prep, the lazy shit. "You said u went to the school nearby? How old are u? I never saw u around."

"I didn't see u either, maybe you graduated before me. We also hung out with very different ppl. You probably would have bullied me, heh"

He didn't say anything for a while, he was a pretty shitty kid "I'm 25, the class of 2023"

My eyes when wide "no fucking ways. You're a lying shit"

"What, why tf am I a lying shit!?" He said annoyed.

I laughed hysterically "how tf am I 3 years older than u. I was the class of 2020"

It was his turn to looked shocked "THERES NO FUCKIN WAY YER 28, YER LITERALLY STILL IN SCHOOL "

"Yes fucking way. I've been studying for 5 years dude, i just dropped out fer a while cuz I developed a stress disorder so I looked after my family and worked for a mechanic in town."

"Who? There's only 3 mechanics in this area and my best friends one of them." He said like I just told him the most unbelievable thing in the world.

I rolled my eyes,"It wasn't Jackie, it was Mike, he was fine as fuck."

"Gross, don't be thinkin nasty things while talkin to me." He said a little upset but definitely grossed out.

"What? Can't a girl appreciate a guy's  good looks"

"Not when it's u Millie, I can practically see what u thinkin and it could make a sailor blush"

"Someones blushing alright" I smirked looking at ben's red ears.He scoffed , turning back to the jam. He was clearly embarrassed and annoyed, and decided to ignore me.

I didn't mind though, the silence was nice. It allowed me to look at the house more. It was quite big since it housed 2 other men, Jackie and Grant, they were sweet fellas and kind enough to let me stay here until Jackie fixed my car.

I hopped off the counter and walked towards Ben, he took notice of this but ignored me so I got closer til my chin rested on his shoulder.

"Can ya back off a lil, I'm tryna bottle this hot shit and I don't wanna spill", he said a little disgruntled

"Nah, you’re fine, plus if ya burn yourself I'll kiss it better,"  I said with a chuckle, a joke to lighten the old grump but instead of rolling his eyes or pushing me off, he froze and looked at me with wide eyes and his ears a bright red and looked back to the jam he was pouring into a jar. He slowly tilted further and further from the jar and closer to his hand, my eyes went wide and I pulled  his hand away "WAIT! I was joking, if you wanted a kiss, could've just asked"

He burnt even redder now, turning his head as far away from me as possible, under his breath he mumbled and 'oh' and I laughed. I turned his head to face to face me and tried to stare into his eyes but he averted contact, clearly very embarrassed. I giggled again and kissed his bottom lip since I was too short to reach his full mouth.

That got his attention since he gasped and looked at me with wide eyes, now his whole face was red, from his ears to his neck and probably lower, "Do you want me to do it again?"

"Yes”

Heyyyy…so this is kinda embarrassing but I wanted my bbg koi to judge it cuz this has been in the making for 2 years. HOPE U LIKE MWAH MHWA

Part 2

[sunskate]

Oh, thank goodness Marjo can safely compete. It would have been devastating for them to have waited this long for a Worlds debut and then have to miss a home event. On the subject of the rhythm dance...mashing rhythms together didn't always work back in the days of the short dance. The 2011 Tango/Waltzes were not good and most of the 2013 Polka/Waltzes weren't much better. Not all rhythms go together as well as cha cha/rumba and quickstep/foxtrot because those two pairings literally share the same rhythms but at different speeds! But I thought they were really getting somewhere with the themes at the end of the last quad. Broadway with Finnstep and Street with Midnight Blues allowed for a range of directions and varied music choices while still retaining key point requirements. Sure some of the choices were tacky but it's ice dance, tacky is unavoidable. But there were also many excellent, memorable, diverse, cohesive programs. The pattern matched well with the theme. But jamming a Samba into an 80s theme was never going to work because there's no correlation between the two. They could've just keep going in the same vein as last quad...themes like 'movies' paired with the Golden Waltz (it would allow everything from Fred & Ginger to Mary Poppins to La La Land to Batman to Harry Potter to Sweeney Todd to The Godfather... and that's just off the top of my head, it's hard to find a movie soundtrack that DOESN'T have a waltz), '21st century' with the Ravensburger Waltz (tons of modern pop and soft rock is written in waltz timing), 'folk' or 'national dance of the country you represent' with Yankee Polka would be great fun. That way teams still learn compulsories but audiences wouldn't have to sit through 3 hours of everyone dancing like they're in Vienna in 1889 to the same Blue Danube waltz music. Something authentic like the Kerrs' Scottish dance would be much more likely to go viral today than people trying to pop and lock to Turn Down For What. The obvious answer to the question of how to expand dance outside the narrow range of ballroom/latin seems to me to be...create more compulsories? Hire Scott and Madison and Marie France and Carol Lane and Barbara Fuser-Poli to create jazz/urban/disco/rock/contemporary patterns that could then far more easily be paired with a theme like 80s.

Sorry for the very long rant! It's just frustrating to me that in 2020-2022 they seemed to finally hit on the perfect balance of a RD that combined the more audience friendly aspects of the old original dances with the technical requirements necessary for credibility under IJS while maintaining the foundations of the sport with the pattern, and after cracking the code they're ditching it instead of expanding it. I don't get it.

those seasons, there was still grumbling that the pattern was broken up, including from me lol but you're right, there wasn't a jarring mismatch. there are so many better ideas than dismantling it altogether like they seem intent on doing