#birdhouse saturdays

[mystellenia]

romantic tension with abby

summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same

content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else

notes: wrote a part two :p i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz

(wc 0.7k)

the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop. 

this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen. 

you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip. 

she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?" 

you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should." 

she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job. 

scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed. 

she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you. 

"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone." 

"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you. 

"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes. 

you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact. 

"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes. 

"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want." 

in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you. 

the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes." 

you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.  

you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too. 

@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek

yayyy i’m back :3

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[seat-safety-switch]

A lot of people at Home Depot are getting froggy at my comparison of them to the Third Reich. This is, of course, a media fabrication. The Nazis had easy access to working tools, and lumber that was straight. What I actually called them was “a group of useless, tin-hat fascists that can’t even stock a fucking lightswitch.”

Back when I was a kid, small hardware stores were all over the place. You could get on your bicycle and ride over to the local lumber shop, and a weird old guy would tell you what stuff to buy, occasionally implying that he was your real father. Then you’d ride home, and finish your project, happy in the knowledge that at least you could control the construction of a potato cannon or low-dimensional-stability, non-permitted birdhouse.

At some point, buoyed by the renovation-crazy era of reality television, the big hardware giants started rolling in. They’d buy out or crush all of these little hardware stores. Why would you go to two of them, they’d ask, when you can get all your stuff here, in one trip, for cheaper? This would be a great thing indeed, if I didn’t have to go to three different big-box hardware stores in order to satisfy literally any weekend project shopping list.

At least with Abnormal Ed’s House of an Unusual Amount of Paracord, you’d know what you were getting into, and if you shopped at his place a lot, he’d probably start stocking the stuff you need. With Home Depot, you’re not even a blip on their immense Excel spreadsheet of Raw Data Pure Data Good Data. With an international reach, your insane hyper-local desires (limited to your house) average out to nothing against the demands of everyone else. There’s no way you can potentially influence them to start offering something unprofitable like, say, white spray paint, or hammers that aren’t made of tinfoil, without taking hostages.

What can we do about this? Other than building a time machine and going back to save small hardware stores – which would probably require buying some parts at Home Depot, which means we’d be wasting a beautiful Saturday afternoon driving all over the city just to pick up red and black wire – the only thing we can do is convince them that an even larger, angrier, hardware store is coming to kill them.

I got the idea when I had a bunch of sparrows flying into my kitchen window. You cut out some silhouettes of bigger birds and just paste them on there. They think a bunch of giant crows are hiding behind the window, and steer clear. It took a lot of time to construct an entire elaborate replica of a hardware store megaconsortium in the empty parking lot next to the Home Depot headquarters, and it was very hard to paint the Chinese ideographs for “HILARIOUS FUN DOESN’T STOCK UNPROFITABLE ITEMS RENOVATION DEPOT” while holding on to the 60th storey of a Potemkin building made entirely out of old cardboard boxes, but I managed to pull it off. You could hear the lifetime middle managers shrieking in fear of their new competitors from blocks away, and by the time I got home, the local Home Depot had finally decided to stock both light fixtures and light bulbs.

[fieldsofwriting]

How do you think the love interests would react to an accidental love confession from the farmer? Like during a Friday night they just BLURT it out in front of everyone?

Anon, I answered this ask in full almost. And then Tumblr crashed on my computer and I lost it ALL. I am foaming at the mouth. I can't remember all of what was written so pls enjoy these two I could actively remember but let me know if you want more!

Ryis:

The last thing that anyone at the Inn had expected was to be so involved with the D&D campaign that happened at the table by the door. Truly, it hadn't been on the docket to basically watch it unfold for the entirety of Winter but where the Farmer was involved the whole town loved to watch them.

Eiland sat as the DM, then Balor the rouge, Ryis the Druid, Brad the Bearded Bard made his return with his daughter- Brightclaw at his side. And you, the fighter. Currently the store was at the climax of it all- with the spring air just looming around the corner it was almost time to switch off on someone else's campaign. But as you and the rest of your party entered the lair of the big bad you'd been hunting the last thing you were expecting was for Ryis to fall.

The party had, for lack of a better word, gotten thier asses handed to them. Brightclaw was knocked out on the ground, Brad the Bearded Bard was trying to help her get back up. Balor was knocked down, but still valiantly trying to get back up. And Ryis. Ryis in his final act had given the last of his health to get Balor back up. He had tried not to focus on the way your eyes watered and you pleaded with him out of character to not do it. But as Balor gets up and manages to get the final blow in an Epic victory, Eiland starts to narrate again.

"Ryis, as you take your final breaths, is there anything you wish to say?" He asks giving his friend a smile.

You rapidly flip through your spells and items trying to stop this- you couldn't- even if it was fake you couldn't loose Ryis like this. As your eyes land on one of your spells you gasp, slamming your hands on the table as you stand. "I cast Summon Deity!"

Eiland blinks, looking to Ryis who gives a nod to let you do this. "Which deity do you wish to summon then?"

"The God of Death!" You say frantically. "I want to plead with him to save Ryis." Eiland gives you a nod to continue. Taking a deep breath, you nod. "Dear God of Death please spare my party member."

Eiland raises an eyebrow, "And why should I?" He asks you.

"Because! Ryis doesn't deserve his end here! He can not die here! This isn't how it was supposed to be! Ryis is kind, selfless, compassionate! He likes to have ice coffee every Saturday! He thinks that watching the birds fly and sing is cool! He likes to make birdhouses and put them all over Mistria! His fate shouldn't be dying here- even then! He gave the last of his health to help defeat evil. Is that not admirable? Is that not thing you should reward?" You plead.

Eiland smirks, knowing exactly what he was doing. "You sound as if you're in love with him."

"I am!" You rush, "I love him so much, and I can not bear to be without him. Please!" Eiland grins raising a hand.

"Your request is granted." He nods, looking over Ryis. And then it hits you. You just admitted that you were in love with him. In front of everyone. While playing D&D of all places. Ryis joins you in standing from across the table.

"As I feel my life coming back to me, I reach out my hand and take y/n's. Looking into her eyes, I say that I love you too." The Inn erupts into cheers causing you and Ryis to startle before breaking out into laughter.

"Hear that Joise! You owe me twenty Ters!"

Celine:

Friday night at the Inn were also fun. And they were especially fun when all of the younger single townsfolk gathered together to drink. It wasn't often that it happened but every now and again it was something you would all sit at the bar and do- it often left Hemlock very entertained.

But now, as you all sat and started chatting you were sharing the worse pick up lines that you had ever heard. Giggling at how awful they were with each other. "Ugh! We once had a guy where who did that dumb 'is your dad a baker? Cause you've got nice buns pun to me." Reina says with an eyeroll as she tips her head back to drink. The rest of the girls groan in unison.

"Shouldn't the line be about your mother? Considering she was the one who was pregnant?" Adeline says with a frown and crease in her brow. Celine pats her shoulder.

"Don't think about it too hard." She smiles, "And as much as that sucks. I do wish I had at least one of those stories." She sighs, "No one has said something like that to me." Celine frowns a little, her pout adorably cute.

"Wait- you've never been hit on?" You asks with a gasp. "That just seems like a crime." Your friends go a little quiet as they process what you had just said, but in your slightly tipsy state you continued to blabber on. "I mean, seriously. You're like the cutest person ever. I can give you a good pick up line-" You lean over, wrapping an arm around her chair. Not realizing the way that her face flushes as she watches you intensely. "Are you a rose? Because you're making my heart bloom."

Sighing, Orlic gets up. "Okay c'mon Y/N lets get you home." He smiles as he helps you, "Hemlock's orders."

In the morning, you wake up with a raging headache and a...banging in your head? Getting up to see the sunlight shining in you blink as you realize the banging isn't just in your head. Hopping out of bed to open the door, Celine stands there with a bright red blush looking anywhere but you. "H-hello y/n...uhm...do you remember last night?"

Opening the door more you nod, silently offering for her to come inside. "Of course I do. Why? Should I not?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you go to make some coffee.

"W-well you hit on me." She stammers out.

"That is what people who have crushes tend to do with the person they have a crush on, do." You smirk.

She stands there before blinking rapidly. "I- you-" She lets out a sigh as she rushes over and wraps her arms around you. "I like you too." She breathes. Letting out a quiet laugh you hold her tightly. Happy that it has turned out for the best.

A/N: I can definitely do the others- but like I said Tumblr crashed and I wanna throw hands. But anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!

[isa-ghost]

Hey uhhh hey guys

So Fit's got big pre-recorded lore dropping Saturday, right?

Well Phil is going away after Friday for the weekend, then going away for the week after Tuesday. Last time he went away for an extended period of time, we got Birdhouse.

Fit's lore is seemingly about the black concrete he and Phil destroyed a while back, if I'm not mistaken (couldn't catch the stream).

So uhhhh

Are crows and huevitos both in danger rn? Should we all be holding each other?

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat.

[brandogenius]

happy 20th birthday to myself! here is a little gift from me ! a little thank you for enjoying my writing and the different fics / headcanonsy ive made! thank you all :D

Birthday Surprise.

‼️RPF‼️

Julien x reader

description: Julien plans something special for your birthday

word count: 1,163

Julien woke up a bit early than expected for a normal day off work. the sun was shining through the window. gold hues hitting her arms and face like liquid gold kissing her skin. the faint sound of the birds chirping outside made her relax slightly. tattooed arms wrapped around your frame. one hand in your hair, twirling small strands of your hair around her fingers and the other wrapped around your waist.

moments like these were what julien loved the best. being able to lay here in a comfortable silence at the early morning with you, she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

today was more than a normal day off work however. it was your birthday. one year older than you were before. it was a special day in juliens eyes. she had a plan to make sure it would be the best day ever.

as much as the older wanted to stay in bed, holding onto you and twirling your hair for a little bit longer, she knew she needed to get up. step one of her plan was to make a special breakfast for you. googling recipes and pinterest inspiration the night before, saved onto her boards. julien quietly and slowly detangled herself from the mess of legs and the duvet sheet. thanking the gods you were a deep sleeper. julien placed the duvet cover up over your shoulders, placing a quick kiss to your forehead as she made her way to the bedroom door, quietly opening it just a crack and sliding out into the hallway.

soft pattering of sock covered feet creek under the wood stairs as julien makes her way down into the kitchen. shoving her hair into a ponytail, julien starts to work on preparing breakfast. nothing too extravagant but nothing too simple. freshly made pancakes with chocolate covered strawberries she made the night before.

soft music filled the air from the record player in the living room. turned down just enough to not wake you but enough for the tattooed woman to hear faintly in the kitchen.

the summer chill breezes past julien. the windows were halfways opened. the faint smell of morning dew grass filled her nose alongside the smell of the fresh flowers perched on top of the window sill. having both recently moved into a small house you both call home. decorating it to fit the aesthetic both of you loved. natural light was something julien loved in the morning.

something about a free summers morning had juliens chest filled with happiness and giddiness. knowing days like this dragged out longer. sitting out in the back garden until nine pm on a saturday night, drinking cold water and listening to the birds fly from the small birdhouse she built last summer for you. julien sitting on a chair, guitar on lap, lyric sheets and notes sprawled across the table. across from her you paint on watercolour paper with art supplies littering the small table. brushing hair behind your face, you huff. the small gusts of winds knocking some stray strands of hair over your face. julien chuckling to herself, handing you her sun glasses to place in your head.

julien shook the memory out of her head for a quick moment. focusing her attention back on the cooking batter in front of her. she wanted to make this special for you. breakfast in bed was something you normally did for julien. days when the musician would be free from a hard days work in the studio or coming back from a world tour, you wanted to treat your girlfriend to something special. julien would always be shocked. appreciating the effort you made for her, thanking you with a small kiss to the lips as you settled back into your shared bed with her. julien sipping on her coffee whilst you caught up on the latest chapter of your book.

last years birthday was a bit different. choosing to spend your birthday with julien on tour, it wasn’t as delicate and more intimidate as it is this year. hosting a small surprise birthday for you at the backstage venue the boys were playing. julien having asked lucy to bring you shopping for the day in a state you’ve never been to while phoebe and julien blow up balloons and carefully hang up banners across the dressing room walls.

it was perfect. you thought it was perfect. julien however, had higher expectations. wanting to make it perfect, wishing she could’ve done something more but you were quick to calm the spiral she was getting herself into by exclaiming it was the best thing anyone has ever done for you.

julien finished making the pancakes. quickly placing them on a plate, drilling syrup over the desserts. delicately placing the chocolate fruit on the side of the plate and placing the rest into a little bowl on the side of the tray. filling a glass of orange juice, she places a small vase of your favourite flowers onto the tray as well.

presentation may not be her strongest trait but as long as it looked pretty, she knew you’d love it as well. a small wave of nerve fill her tummy as she grabbed the tray, heading upstairs back to your shared room. what if you didn’t like it? what if it didn’t taste good? julien couldn’t help but overthink every so often. always stressed about wanting to make things perfect. you deserved the best things. not half assed things that weren’t edible.

the small spiral came to a halt. quietly walking back into the bedroom, she found you awake. propped up onto the pillow, book in hand. you turned over with a shocked expression on your face, julien standing at the doorway, small blush on her face.

“happy birthday, princess” julien grinned, making her way to the bed. you quickly put your bookmark on the page you just recently started, tossing the book aside onto juliens side of the bed. “you made this for me?” you looked over at your girlfriend with a smile. julien places the tray of food onto your lap, moving the covers as she curled into the bed beside you.

“thought you deserved something special on your birthday” juliens cold hands reached over, grabbing your chin gently as she pressed her lips against yours in a gentle kiss. you broke away from the kiss, quickly tearing off a piece of the pancake and eating it.

“thank you my love.”

all the worries and doubts julien had now disappeared in a puff of smoke. seeing you happy and content made it all worth it. the tattooed musician settled down in the bed, head laying on your shoulder as she scrolled through her phone. the sound of small laughter filled the bedroom. juliens phone sitting up on the phone as the two of you catch up on your favourite podcasts new episode.

this was definitely one of your favourite mornings so far

[basketsys]

Having, thoughts, about q!Phil and how he's doing in the birdhouse...like

(long post, headcannon on detail are after cut divided by days, open if you want to cry)

(might update as days pass by, maybe)

Day 1, Friday: Crying, nesting, more crying, he fell asleep with the floatie and the beanie in the makeshift nest (it's hay, it's literally hay on the floor, it's so thin he's basically sleeping on the floor)

Day 2, Saturday : Actually taking in his surroundings, he's still shredding tears but he's also collecting any single thing he sees as food. Also he moved the table and chest to the side so he could have easier access to the food on the bottom floor.

Day 3, Sunday: He's finally setting free the caged birds, let's them eat the food he collected and the empty cages are in the darkest corner of the birdhouse, but of rage is staring to brew as he's freeing them. (also they may be sleeping in the same nest as him as a thank you)

Day 4, Monday: Since he doesn't see the sun anymore he's just sleeping when he feels tired, and since crying DOES makes you more tired his sleeping schedule may be fucked, sleeping at the hours he's usually awake, dreaming of a land where's he's free and he's flying everywhere he wants (hardcore dreaming hc let's go)

Day 5, Tuesday: He's starting to go ape shit, he's staring at the door, meneceanly. Sometimes the birds are catching his attention so he doesn't feel as alone, they know he's going through it and that he's keeping it in. He may or may not slept when he should've and without knowing it he's falling asleep like that, sat in front of the door, in hopes of it being opened.

Day 6, Wednesday: He actually slept in the first half of the day without knowing. He was dreaming again. The fact that he's feeling freedom in his dreams and comes back to reality in his enclosure was the last drop to spill the cup. So he started to get feral, scratching at the door, trying to make it budge, leaving marks on the metal, banging on it. Then on the walls, it was starting to get to him the fact that this has such big windows yet they were patched, that didn't kept him from trying to break them (didn't work). The birds inside were flying as high as they could to not get hit or hurt by him, watching in pity and sorrow for him. It took a while for him to stop scratching and cussing out the federation but when he did all the birds got to him and tried to confort him as he was starting to fist on his feathers and pull on them. It was brutal.

Day 7, Thursday: Food was starting to run low, all the hay he could've find was noticibly not enough for a lot of birds and a human sized bird. So he stopped eating from it and had the only real food he brought, Chayanne's noodle soup. He'll figure out what to have next time he's hungry, surely............maybe he could munch on the gapple's he brought if he gets hungry........

[spaceorphan18]

5 Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part Two)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It’s a little mini-series, and I’ll post one part a day, then I’ll get it up on Ao3 after it’s complete.

It’s set in a post-canon-ish world when they’re all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

Btw - for this one, I reference one of my other fics - With Every Broken Bone. You don't need to have read it or anything - but if you're wondering where I pulled the idea that Kurt had a one-night stand, that's where.

****

Conversation Two: Elliott

Kurt finishes the rest of his bagel and throws the paper wrapper into a nearby trash can.  He still has a full cup of coffee to enjoy, and even though the stand’s regular roast is a bit bland, he’ll still take all the cheap coffee he can get in a day.  

“You’re late,” Kurt says as he sips from the styrofoam cup.  It’s nearly eleven and he does have lunch plans, but he and Elliott have been taking a Saturday morning walk in Central Park for half a decade now, and Kurt isn’t one to change his routine so easily.  

“Yeah, I know, I know…” Elliott looks a little haggard.  Despite the spring sun shining around them, Elliott’s lacking his usual energetic demeanor.  “This guy I hooked up with didn’t want to leave the apartment.  He kept wanting to snuggle.” 

“Oh, the horror,” Kurt deadpans.  He motions to the stand but Elliott brushes it off, not seeming interested despite having the knowledge that this little food cart has the best cream cheese in the park.  Instead, they start down their usual path.  

“Yeah, and then he spent an hour telling me about his antique birdhouse collection,” Elliott says.  “I mean, you do you and everything, but I’ve got places to be.” 

“Why did you even pick this guy?” 

“Kurt, seriously…” Elliott stops them in their tracks a moment, and waits until an older woman walking her dog passes by.  “He had the most beautiful cock that I have ever seen.  I thought, when he sent me a pic, that he had doctored it somehow. But nope - good god, it was a work of art.  Okay, why the look?” 

“C’mon,” Kurt shrugs a little as they pick up walking again.  “Let’s not kid ourselves.  I may be fond of them, but the penis, by design, is hardly a work of art.” 

“This guy’s was.” 

“Fine, let’s say it was.  Did you really think the most artistically designed dick was really going to be attached to the world’s most perfect human specimen?” Kurt asks.  

“You know, you can judge me all you want - and, sure we only had, like, a sixty-seven percent match on the app,” Elliott continues.  “But I got to play with the most beautiful cock, possibly, in North America.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes a little, as he shakes his head.  All these stories seem to run the same after awhile, and it’s times like these, he’s glad he’s married and settled.  “Well, maybe next time you should downgrade a little and try a dick attached to a personality that better suits you.” 

Elliott eyes him sharply.  “It’s not like I’m expecting you to understand.” 

“Understand what?” 

Elliott plays it coy a little, which is unlike him.  “The allure of just wanting to enjoy a beautiful cock for what it is.” 

Kurt snaps his head abruptly. “I’ll have you know that Blaine has a--” 

Elliott holds up his hand to stop him.  “I have no doubt that whatever Blaine has is lovely.  But Kurt, how many actual pensises have you seen in real life?” 

Kurt scrunches his nose.  “More than I’ve ever asked for.  I’ve seen yours.” 

Elliott grumbles.  “Yeah, cause you don’t know how to knock before entering a room.  No, I mean, how many have you seen actually up close? Two?” 

“It’s been more than two,” Kurt says defensively. 

“Has it?” 

Kurt grumbles into his coffee, wondering why numbers are even important.  “Fine, if we’re really going to go there… I mean, Blaine, obviously.  Myself.”

“You can’t count yourself.” 

“Ug, alright, well when Blaine and I broke up the first time I dated this British guy named Adam.”

“Oh god, you would date a British guy,” Elliott chuckled.  “Did he also have a tattoo of the queen on his thing?” 

“No,” Kurt shot back.  “He was really pale though.” He slowed his walk to think about it further.  “There was that one-night stand I had the summer after I called off the engagement.  But, you know, I can’t even remember it all that well.” 

“What about that dude who was older than your dad?” Elliott asks, wiggling his eyebrows as if it was a scandalous secret Kurt had kept all these years.

“Oh my god - I had forgotten about Walter…” Kurt replies.  That had barely been a thing. “Yeah, we may have messed around a little.  You know, his dick was much nicer than you’d expect.  But my god, he did not know what to do with it.  I honestly felt really bad for his ex-wife.”

“And…if my calculations are right, that’d bring us back to Blaine, so unless there’s a threesome in there that I don’t know about that brings your total to five.” 

Kurt continues to sip his coffee, still mulling it over.  “I mean…there was the one time I had to do a sex scene in a play, and I caught more than my fair share of my scene partner’s junk.  But he had some weird stuff going on under the hood, so probably not even worth mentioning.  I mean, like, weird piercings weird.” 

“Ew.” 

“I know.” 

“So, there we have it,” Elliott says. He holds his hands out wide, as if some great conclusion had been stumbled upon.  “My point stands.” 

“There was a point to this?”

“What I’m saying is this,” Elliot says.  “You’ve tried, like, five flavors of ice cream and decided you were done when there’s a vast array of ice cream flavors just waiting to be tasted.  And, sure, some may leave you bloated and gross and won’t shut up about endangered birds of North America but my god it was worth it while you were eating it.” 

“Why do people always use ice cream when making their sex metaphors?” 

“Who doesn’t love ice cream?” 

“Lesbians, probably.”

“It’s a multipurpose metaphor, Kurt, and you’re intentionally getting off topic.” 

“I just think it’s a ridiculous point,” Kurt says, a layer of irritation in his voice.  How is this a conversation they even ended up having?  “Have you ever stopped to think about quality over quantity? How many guys, on average, do you think you pick up a week?” 

Elliott thinks it over.  “I don’t know, maybe one or two on a good week.”  

“Wow - I didn’t realize it was that many.” 

“You’re being judgy again, Kurt…”

“Anyway…” Kurt says, with a long gulp of his coffee - lamenting that he’s almost done with the cup. “On average, I’d say Blaine and I mess around three or four times a week.  So, comparatively, I’m having my expensive, always satisfying sweet treat twice as often and always at my disposal while you scrounge around trying to engorge yourself on any freezer burned dessert in a decently wrapped package, trying to trick yourself into thinking that the ice cream sandwich stuck at the bottom is marginally better because it has that chocolate cookie included, but once you try it, it’s not nearly as edible as it initially looked. Well, you can keep your most likely chemically encrusted, cheap ice cream.  I want my gourmet vanilla with caramel sauce every time. ” 

Elliott remains quiet for a long beat.  “I think you killed the metaphor.” 

“Well, it was your metaphor,” Kurt shoots back.  “Besides, would you have preferred me to say that my husband might not be breaking the art world with his cock but his is the most beautiful to me and I would rather be fucked by that than by anything else?” 

Elliott lets out a hearty laugh. “Kurt, I love it when you're poetically crude."

Kurt grumbles again as he tosses the empty coffee cup into a trash can on the side of the path.  “And for the record, there’s nothing wrong with liking birds.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Nothing - Don’t worry about it.”

[tooies]

remember that your experiences are not universal. mine are though. everyone loves to unwind on a saturday afternoon listening to birdhouse by cryptovolans and that's why the song has 1 billion plays on every platform. and everyone can walk through metal grates with ease

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

#20yrsago Why Microsoft should get out of DRM https://craphound.com/msftdrm.txt

#20yrsago Fark posts 1,000,000th link, Web surrenders https://www.fark.com/comments/1000000/Birds-learn-how-to-open-doors-at-Home-Depot-Finally-they-can-make-that-deck-for-birdhouse-In-other-news-this-is-1000000th-link

#15yrsago Vancouver cops affirm your right to take pictures https://web.archive.org/web/20090618134523/http://www.news1130.com/news/local/more.jsp?content=20090617_112051_8240

#15yrsago UK cop: ‘War on terror means no pictures of police vans in disabled parking spots’ https://shkspr.mobi/blog/2009/06/police-camera-action/

#15yrsago British cops stop and hassle thousands to “balance racial statistics” https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2009/jun/17/stop-search-terror-law-met

#15yrsago Mind Over Ship: David Marusek’s hyperfuturistic, hyperimaginative soap-opera https://memex.craphound.com/2009/06/17/mind-over-ship-david-maruseks-hyperfuturistic-hyperimaginative-soap-opera/

#15yrsago Bozeman, Montana requires job applicants to hand over all social network logins and passwords for background checks https://web.archive.org/web/20090621103931/montanasnewsstation.com/Global/story.asp?S=10551414&nav=menu227_3

#15yrsago Canadian cops want to wiretap the net https://web.archive.org/web/20090618223330/http://www.calgaryherald.com/Technology/Feds+give+cops+Internet+snooping+powers/1706191/story.html

#10yrsago Copyright trolls cut and run at suggestion that they’re a front for disgraced firm Guardaley https://www.techdirt.com/2014/06/16/once-again-as-details-questionable-copyright-trolling-practices-come-to-light-troll-desperately-tries-to-run-away/

#10yrsago London police’s secret “domestic extremist” list includes people who sketch protests https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jun/16/domestic-extremist-metropolitan-police-spying-elected-politician

#10yrsago Riot control drone that fires paintballs, pepper-spray and rubber bullets at protesters https://www.defenceweb.co.za/aerospace/aerospace-aerospace/desert-wolf-unveils-riot-control-drone/

#10yrsago Seattle paid $17.5K to “manage” online rep of public utility CEO https://web.archive.org/web/20140623210450/http://seattletimes.com/html/localnews/2023849447_citylightbrandxml.html

#10yrsago Oligopolistic America: anti-competitive, unequal, and deliberate https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/how-america-became-uncompetitive-and-unequal/2014/06/13/a690ad94-ec00-11e3-b98c-72cef4a00499_story.html?hpid=z3

#5yrsago Structural Separation: antitrust’s tried-and-true weapon for monopolists who bottleneck markets https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/17/structural-separation-antitrusts-tried-and-true-weapon-for-monopolists-who-bottleneck-markets/

#5yrsago Fox News poll has Trump losing to Sanders, Biden, Warren, Harris, or Buttigieg https://www.commondreams.org/news/2019/06/16/fox-news-poll-bernie-sanders-would-beat-trump-9-points

#5yrsago Traverse City, MI braves the wrath of telcoms lobbyists, pushes ahead with municipal fiber network https://upnorthlive.com/news/local/traverse-city-light-and-power-approves-fiber-optic-internet

#5yrsago After Hong Kong’s leaders delay plan to render dissidents to mainland China, 2,000,000 Hong Kongers march and demand resignations https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-48655634

#5yrsago The UK government gave away cheap money for property purchase deposits, which the wealthy abused, driving up property prices and leaving UK taxpayers exposed https://wolfstreet.com/2019/06/13/uk-government-blew-billions-on-help-to-buy-scheme-that-enriched-home-builders-and-drove-up-home-prices-taxpayers-on-the-hook-when-prices-sink-new-report-warns/

#1yrago Pizzaburgers https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/17/pizzaburgers/

[fantasyinallforms]

Okay you HAVE to do “First thing you should know…it was an accident.”

The last prompt of the March Madness Fotfics event! Thank you, @sunnyrosewritesstuff! It's fitting that the last prompt I do for this event is the one I went a little crazy with.

Also, find this and my other work on A03! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46128451/chapters/116124325

bagginshield {G} 3217 words

Title: Happy Accidents; part 1

There were many things you could say about Dis Durin. Chief among them was that she loved her boys with her entire being. She especially loved spoiling them whenever the occasion arrived, and this week there was an occasion. It was Fili and Kili’s 11th birthday, and Dis had a small catalog in front of her filled with places she could take them. The boys sat on either side of her, eagerly throwing their opinions into the mix. 

“Thorin! What do you think of this one?” Dis called to him as he walked inside from his shop. Thorin peered over the table to read what she was pointing at. 

“Plant and sip? Isn't that where you build terrariums and sip on wine? You might be about ten years too early for that one, sis.” 

“They have non-alcoholic parties.” Dis rolled her eyes. “What do you think, boys? You get to build a terrarium for a cactus or succulent.” Yells of excitement flooded the house for the next few moments as Dis got a clear answer to her inquiry. 

“Alright, we’re going next Saturday at 2pm. Thorin, make sure you’re free.” Dis commanded matter of factly. Thorin put down the cup of water he was drinking to cock an eye at his sister. 

“What makes you think I’m going? I have a black thumb. I’m good at building things, not growing them.” 

“It’s not about being good at it! The boys want to spend more time with you. Do it for them” As if on queue Fili and Kili abandoned their excited conversation about cacti and rushed Thorin’s legs. 

“Please, uncle! Please, please, please! It’s really hard to kill a cactus!” The boys refused to stop hopping around his legs until he eventually gave in. 

“Fine! I’ll go!” Thorin shouted, running his hands through his hair in defeat. He glared and rolled his eyes at the pleased self-satisfied smile Dis was now sporting. 

A week later, he was pulling up to a barn-style building with a wooden sign hanging from it called ‘The Sipping Plant. To the right of the building was a long greenhouse. It was a locally owned place, not a chain. That actually made Thorin a little happier. Being a small business owner himself, he understood the struggle. He waited for Dis to arrive, and they all walked in together. The inside had a distinctive boho vibe to it. The front seemed to be a store. There were shelves lined with pots, trinkets, and various plants. As well as some handcrafted wood-based items like birdhouses and pre-made planter kits. An older man wearing overalls and gardening gloves greeted them just inside.

“You must be the Durins! Go ahead and get settled in the back party room, and I’ll direct your guests through as they come in. You’re expecting 14 people total, correct?” The man asked. 

“Yes, 14. Are you the owner?” Dis asked. 

“Me? No, no. I just work here. Name is Hamfast Gamgee, but that's a mouthful, so you can call me Gaffer. Owner is Bilbo, and he’ll be leading the terrarium building” Gaffer led them to the back room. Beds of plants lined walls, and wide tables with matching wooden benches sat in neat rows facing another table on a raised platform at the front of the room. The room had been decked out in balloons and ribbons, and the chalkboard at the front read ‘Happy birthday, Fili and Kili!’ in pretty loopy handwriting. Strung between 2 very tall cacti was a banner that said ‘WELCOME.’

Dis sat them all at the front middle table, and they waited. Soon the room was filled with Fili and Kili’s friends and a few parents. The room was a buzz with voices, and Thorin was wondering how this mystery instructor was going to get everyone to quiet down. Just as he thought that, the lights in the room turned off, then turned back on again. The noise died down as everyone looked toward the door. In walked a short man (thought that was relative to Thorin, who was 6’6ft) with curly honey-brown hair. He wore jeans and a ruffled yellow shirt covered by a green gardening apron with large front pockets. He had a round face, an adorable button nose, and his ears were just slightly pointed. His mouth fell open as he watched the man walk across the room and take his position behind the table.  

He stopped in front of the chalkboard and surveyed the room before addressing everyone in a pleasant tenor voice. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he could sware the man's eyes lingered on him just a tad longer than the others in the room.

“Welcome! My name is Bilbo. Raise your hand if it’s your first time here.” most of the room raised their hands. “Wonderful, thank you for being here. I know this is in celebration of two very special birthdays. So let's start with making sure our birthday boys stand out!” He approached the table they were sitting at and knelt down. “Looks like I have two queen bees today” He handed them a pair of bee antennas. The boys took them hastily and put them on their heads. 

“But wait! We’re not the queen! Mama would be the queen! Can we be prince bees?” Kili asked excitedly. Bilbo looked at Dis, who seemed a little flustered but gave a small nod. He returned to the table, got another pair of antennas, and handed them over. 

“Prince bees and their mom, the queen bee it is. But what about your Dad?” Thorin paled immediately

“I’m their uncle, not their dad.” Thorin quickly rushed to say. He really wanted this man to know that he was very much not taken. Bilbo nodded and returned to the front. He instructed everyone to get a drink from the coolers in the corners of the room and walked them through the different materials they would be working with. They each chose a pot and two succulents from the plant beds Bilbo pointed to. When they sat back down, Bilbo laid out rocks, a bucket of soil, and some decorations at each table. The rest of what Bilbo said was lost to him. Enchanted, he watched small, nimble hands dirty themselves in the soil and expertly transplant the succulent from the temporary pot it was in into the more permanent one in front of him. How could a person be this cute? 

“Alright, now it’s your turn. I’ll walk around if anyone needs any help.” Bilbo announced. Shit. He hadn't been paying attention to the actual words the man had been saying. He grabbed the little trowel in front of him and layered a big scoop into his pot. Before he could start taking the nursery pot off his succulent, Bilbo picked up his pot and dumped out the soil. 

“It looks like you might have missed a step. Rocks first for drainage, then soil.” Thorin failed to keep the blush off his face as he corrected his mistake. Eventually, they made it to the final decoration stage. They were instructed to decorate their pots and soil however they wanted. The boys seemed to be having a blast decorating theirs with little plastic dinosaurs and spaceships. The artist in Thorin liked this part a lot himself, although he was going for a less busy aesthetic than his nephews. He was deep in concentration when he heard a stool pull up beside him. Sitting on the stool, Bilbo was at eye level with him. From a distance had thought the man had brown or maybe even dark blue eyes, but now that he had a good look at his face, he saw that his eyes were, in fact, a deep shade of green. Deeper than emerald but far more mesmerizing.    

“That looks amazing! Most of my adult clients are usually pretty tipsy by this point in the process. Is that a crow?” Bilbo asked enthusiastically.   

“It’s a Raven. I’ve always really liked ravens.” Thorin replied sheepishly. 

“As you should! They’re smart, beautiful birds and more helpful in a garden than you would think. It's very detailed. I wish I could draw half as well as you.” Bilbo giggled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. He felt like a kid that got the attention of his crush, and he didn't want to lose it.”           

“I’m good with my hands!.... I mean, it’s my profession using my hands… Building things! I build things. Mostly out of metal but also wood. So you could say I have a lot of practice being creative.” He wanted to bury his head in his hands in embarrassment. Luckily he was rescued from his torment by another table asking for help. 

“You should get his number after this!” Dis hissed in his ear, causing him to jump. Thorin shot her a slightly incredulous look. “I’ve known you my entire life. I can tell when you get heart eyes for someone, and you practically ogled the man on his way into the room.”

“Chances are he’s not even gay!” Thorin hissed back 

“I forgot your gaydar is hopelessly broken. There are two pride flags in this room, Thorin. Which means if he’s not gay, which I would bet money he is, he at least won't take offense to the question.” Thorin looked around the room to find the flags he clearly missed. One was sitting right on the desk in front of him, nestled in a jar of sharpies. The other took him longer to find, and it wasn't until he looked back at Bllbo that he saw the flag pinned clear as day to his apron. Well, it wasn't sure proof, but it definitely boded well.

 It had been a few years since he had tried his hand at the dating pool. He valued his space and his solitude and wasn't willing to give that up for just anyone. One look at Bilbo's, though, and he was considering it. Surely he was being silly. He had met this man an hour ago, but something about him radiated like sunshine through thunderclouds, and it made Thorin want to try.

 The formal part of the party ended, and the room was left to them for cake-cutting and unwrapping gifts. The boys were over the moon with all of it. Thorin was particularly happy with their reactions to the wooden swords he made and painted for them. Soon after the last package was unwrapped, guests started filtering out until, finally, it was just Dis, the boys, and himself. He took the antennas off the boy's heads and whispered to his sister.

“You get the boys home. I’m going to hang back for a moment.” Dis’s face lit up, and she pushed his nephews out of the door, sparing him a wink before she left. He wrestled his nerves and turned back towards the party room. Bilbo was wiping down the chalkboard and humming an unfamiliar tune. In all his nervousness, Thorin's approach set off an unfortunate chain of events. He went to step onto the raised platform and underestimated the ledge causing him to trip. In an attempt to break his fall, he absent-mindedly grabbed the saguaro cactus standing to the side of the chalkboard. This caused him to jump back in a jolt of pain, again, forgetting the ledge. Thorin fell backward off the raised platform and crashed into a table. The table's legs snapped under the weight of the impact, sending it and him to the floor with a bang. 

His head swam for a moment, and there was a light ringing in his ears as the world came back into focus. It was a very pleasant focus as Bilbo's face was now inches from his. 

“Mr. Durin, are you ok! Gaffer, help me get him up, then go grab the first aid kit!” Thorin felt his body get pulled into a sitting position, and finally, he fully regained his senses. 

“First thing you should know…it was an accident. Second thing is that I will definitely make you a new table,” Thorin mumbled, clutching his head. He winced when he realized one of his hands was covered in cactus spines. 

“I’m not worried about the table! Do you need me to call an ambulance?” Bilbo fretted. He was kneeling on the floor in front of Thorin, one hand supporting his back and the other resting on his chest.

“No, no, I’m sturdier than I look. I might need help getting these spines out of my hand, though.” 

“Yes, I can help with that. Here lean on me, and I can help you up.” Bilbo braced himself so that Thorin could lean on him instead of his injured hand. 

“No offense. Are you sure you can help me up? I’m twice your size.” 

“I’m stronger than I look, but to be safe, make sure you lean into your other hand.” It was a little bit of a struggle, but Bilbo was able to help him stand up and get seated on a proper bench. A short time later, Gaffer came running back in with a first aid kit in hand. Bilbo took it and pulled a chair to him so close that their knees interlocked. He held out his hand, motioning for Thorin to hand his over. When he did, Bilbo took it in a firm but gentle grasp. 

“I am so sorry, but this next part will sting a lot, and the pain will likely ache the more spines I take out. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have urgent care do it?” Bilbo met his eyes with a worried expression. Thorin put his hand on Bilbo's knee. 

“No, I’m fine. Like I said, I’m sturdy.” Thorin enjoyed the little blush that crossed Bilbo's face at the casual touch, but he retracted his hand, not wanting to overstep. Bilbo started plucking the spines out in silence. He wasn't wrong; the more spines came out, the worse it hurt. Sensing Thorin’s discomfort, Bilbo tried to strike up a casual conversation. 

“So, what were you on your way to ask me before all of this happened?” Bilbo asked, still concentrating on his hand. 

“I was returning the antennas, and I was going to say thank you. The boys had a lot of fun.” He winced as the last of the spines came out. “Is that all of them?” Thorin asked

“No, I have to get the fine hairs out next, then clean it. This next part won't hurt as bad, but it will feel weird. Bilbo pulled out a little jar of glue and coated Thorin’s hand in it, then placed a few gauze pads over it. “The glue will dry and pull the little spines out. So were you just coming to return the antennas, or did you want to ask me something…else?” Thorin’s head snapped up to look a the bashful smile spreading across Bilbo’s face. 

“Well, I should probably ask for your number. You know, just in case I decide to put my hand through another cactus. You do definitely seem to know what you’re doing.” Thorin tried to flash a cheesy grin, hoping his attempt at being smooth wasn't as horrible as it sounded in his head. To his delight, Bilbo started laughing. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice bandaging accidental cacti wounds. I’ve never had someone break a table, however, so I will get to add that to my list of firsts.” Bilbo looked him right in the eyes with a sweet smile and ripped the glue-soaked gauze off his hand in one clean motion. Thorin wrenched his hand back in a yelp of pain. 

“You said that wasn't going to hurt as much!” Thorin grumbled, rubbing his hand

“I lied, sorry! I needed you to not tense your hand. I’m sure it feels much better now. I just need to clean it with some peroxide, and we’re all done.” Bilbo gingerly wiped his hand down. When he was done, he gave the back of his hand a little pat and got up. Thorin was sad to see him move away. He was also sad to realize that Bilbo had never actually given him his number. Thorin pulled the car keys out of his pocket and scratched behind his head in a nervous gesture. 

“I appreciate the help, and again, I’ll make sure you get another table. I guess I should probably head out.” He started to turn around for the door when Bilbo called him back. 

“Wait! You just crashed into a table; there is no way you should drive home! Y-you could have a concussion or… something. Let me drive your car home, and Gaffer can follow behind us to take me back.” Thorin was not about to question getting to spend a little more time with this cactus-loving gardener. 

“I live about 30 minutes away so as long as you're sure. My truck is a stick shift. Is that going to be an issue?” 

“Not at all! I love driving stick!” Bilbo seemed oblivious to his double entendre, then turned a wonderful shade of scarlet. “I mean, I drive stick all the time! Wait, no I… just give me the keys….” Bilbo swiped the keys from his hand and quickly walked out the door, not making eye contact. Thorin stared after him with a lopsided grin and fond eyes. He had known Bilbo for all of two and a half hours, and he already wanted to kiss the man silly.

The car ride was comfortable. They listened to a few songs off their playlists and then swapped stories about their jobs and hobbies. All too soon, they pulled up to Thorin’s house.

 “Wow! Your house is way nicer than I thought it would be! Not that I thought it would look bad or anything! It just doesn't match up to the aesthetic I thought you would keep.”  Bilbo put the car in park and stepped out. Thorin did the same. He walked around to the side of the car Bilbo was standing on to continue the conversation.  

“That’s because my sister picked the house. Most of what makes me, me is in a workshop around the back. You should see it sometime. I know you do projects of your own I think you’d like it.” Thorin hung the second bid for more time together out in the open, hoping Bilbo would take it. 

“I think I’d like that,” Bilbo replied, blushing. Thorin held his breath as those deep green eyes looked through lases up at him. Bilbo stood comfortably in the shadow of his broad frame and heaven above; he looked like he was meant to fit there. The air hung heavy for a moment before Bilbo rolled up onto his tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on Thorin’s lips. “I have to go but… you should call me!” He felt him slip something into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt, then turn and walk away. He stared in shock as he watched Bilbo’s pleasant form disappear into a yellow Volkswagen. When he checked his pocket a moment later, it was a business card for The Sipping Plant with a heart drawn around where Bilbo’s number was. 

[stardewremixed]

Stardewies as kids... Abigail

Glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. Fairy lights in her windows. And posters of Pokémon on her walls.

Butterfly clips in her hair. Bunny slippers on her feet. Borrowing mom's jewelery is always a treat.

Playing in the fields until dusk. Catching fireflies in a jar. Watching the moonlight jellies float home every summer's end.

Carving pumpkins every Halloween. Imagining her school uniform is infused with magical powers... like flight or super speed or... yes, she was caught daydreaming in class again.

Sleeping under the Christmas tree to catch Santa leaving presents. Peppermint nail polish for the holidays. Bows on presents. Shiny paper.

Christmas caroling in the square. Red mittens. Purple knitted cap. Red wool coat. Jingle bells. Handbells. Church choir. Pockets full of stars. Hair full of sunshine. Learning to whistle through her teeth.

Crocus - the first flower of spring and the last flower of winter. Shiny silver spoons and finding marshmallow charms in her cereal. Bubble baths and yellow submarines and rubber duckies dancing on waves.

Trying beading. Losing every one. Coveting the blue ribbon at the egg hunt. Vowing to win every year forward. Dyeing eggs all sorts of colors. Snorting a jelly belly on a dare.

Embellishing sneakers with sequins. Drawing animals with chalk on the sidewalk. Chasing rainbows. Chasing seagulls. Chasing the horizon.

Building castles made of sand. Rolling pie dough with mom by hand. Fruit scented markers. Lip smacked necklaces. Honeysuckle lotion.

Building pillow forts. Conquering playground equipment. Begging Sebastian's mom to build a tree house. Up a tree, down the slides, across the harbor in a rowboat made of driftwood. Digging in the sand for treasure. Pretending she's a Mermaid in the ocean riding a seahorse (really seaweed).

Playing pretend. Writing stories. Making up games. Pirates. Cops and Robbers. Fair lads and maidens. Princesses and frogs. Girl heroes. Singing the theme song to Kimpossible, standing on the back of the couch every Saturday into a hairbrush.

Watching every episode of Wishbone. What's the story? Giggling with books in the back of the library. Reading about adventures of kids in faraway lands doing brave things with their animal companions.

Swinging from the roof on the garden hose. Pretending she can fly. Ending up in the ER. Making all the nurses laugh with her funny faces. Covering her arm cast with colorful stickers. Calling it her battle scar.

Balloon animals. Face paints. Finger paints. Decoupage. Ceramics that are a little bit lopsided. Making pinecone crafts. Building a birdhouse. Popsicle stick towers.

Believing she can be anyone. Do anything. Go anywhere. Braving staring down the school bully, monsters under the bed, or broccoli on her plate with the same intensity. She will be the hero of her own story. Who needs Prince Charming?

[rockstarlwt28]

Tuesday Teaser

It’s not Sunday or Saturday, so I can’t use the usual ‘snippet’ alliteration. I hope this is acceptable. Thanks for the tag, @beelou, @hellolovers13 and @enchantedlandcoffee!

I’m so excited for the rest of your fics and chapters. I love them. 

Here is a small snippet from my re-write for the @loummyficfest!

Trigger Warning: Sadness and Anticipation for a positive pregnancy test!

A pricking of unshed tears obscure his vision, until a rogue tear lands on his thumb, drawing his attention to the double silver binding ring on the adjacent finger. It was a present from Harry for their sixth month anniversary; a courting milestone. Louis' relationship with former lover Luke, was lengthier, yet Harry insisted on celebrating their love. He'd fallen head over heels for him and Louis hoped it wasn't an intense fling. Five years later, the pair tied the knot. Neither have looked back since. 

His head rests against the tiles whilst his eyes absorb the trees on the other side of their weathered garden fence. A gentle breeze accompanies the bird song, a harmonious tune to celebrate the arrival of spring in four days' time. The clouds are drifting along, creating interval rays of sunshine. Louis ponders about pegging out a line full of washing before potential rainfall. He adjusts his posture, managing to tear his eyes away from the small bird that's perching beside the entryway of the birdhouse he built last summer. Louis considers whether it's a sign from the universe that his own nest is looming closer than he perceives. 

No pressure! @thebreadvansstuff  @larry-hiatus @goldenkinglouis @hereforh @larrysballetslippers @imogenleefic @babyhoneyheslt @nouies @lunarheslwt @allwaswell16 @paranormalbabydoll @justanothershadeofblue @justahappycloud

[breakingournecksforhome]

getting so many new painting ideas as of late .... tmr I'm going to workout and call grad school lady. possibly go to farmers market to do research on Saturday and get a birdhouse to paint for my gardening class .

[looksforleaders]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 🔥Outhouse Themed Bathroom Shower Curtain.

[sparkylilacs]

The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Kid! Chapter 6

While Hey thought he could make web shooters, we decided to search the internet first for what people thought was the web formula Spider-Man uses. There are a bunch of numbers and chemicals I don’t understand on the super intense chat forums. A few people online hypothesize that there is no formula and the webs come out of Spider-Man’s wrists. Gross! Despite my lack of comprehension, Hey seems to get some of it he says, “We can get the twins to help too. They are always trying new slimes. It’ll be a good cover and besides if I know what we're dealing with it will be easier to make the ejection mechanisms,". 

"One point to robo nerd! Also I'm going to have to step up my kickboxing practice. You know if I'm going to beat the crap out of baddies. I could use a sparring partner…". 

"No way, I told you I'm a nerd not a jock, now let's go find the twins,". I shrug as we leave the bedroom. After an hour of different concoctions and sticky slime, probably stuck in my liver as well as my hair, Hey and I tweak a formula we think has promise. Sally, or maybe it's Sadie, is plopping blobs of failed formula on nice glass plates and serving it to Sadie (Sally?) and the toddler Harper who was coming dangerously close to actually eating the stuff. Noticing this as well, Hey decided it was time to clean up and we called it a night on the web formula.

*Ha Aaa Haa snork* Hey was laughing...at me. It was my, about one hundredth, attempt to land a leaping kick from the shed to a lawn chair while kicking a birdhouse hanging from the tree on the way. It was one of a few maneuvers I thought might be good to get in my muscle memory. Most tries I missed the bird house entirely, but this try I had just brushed it and my foot stuck. Leaving me with one leg still in the air as I desperately cling to the back of the lawn chair. "You can try it if you want," I tell him sweetly. He shakes his head, "No, por favor it's all yours Spider-Girl,". Grousing under my breath I kick trying in vain to dislodge my foot from the birdhouse. Silently the string holding the bird house snaps and my legs crash to the grass smashing the little house. That starts Hey laughing all over again. "You can't be much of a look out if your eyes are watering from mirth,", I say to change the subject. Getting a hold of himself he says, "That's true, but I know my family's schedule. How do you think I get anything done on my own around here,". Picking at the wooden pieces still on the side of my shoe I respond with. "Fine, but you could at least try and take this budding vigilante training more seriously,". 

"Seriously, are you sure this is how to get your dad to take you back? I've seen a lot of kids come and go. Many of them wanted their parents back. Even the real deadbeat parents. But if your dad just wants you safe isn't this the opposite of that. Throwing yourself off roofs? Sometimes what's best isn't always together". Angrily I tear off a chunk of birdhouse only to find it stays on my palm. "You don't get it. Ever since I found out who my dad was I thought he meant until we were older. Then he'd come get us, when we could protect ourselves. Once I realized he meant to stay away for good, I resolved to prove to him I could stay safe and protect Beni. That's when I started kickboxing and climbing. I decided even if I didn't have the spider gene or whatever I could help him in the family business. Now I have inherited the genes, how can I do nothing with such a gift,". Hey nods slowly, "Fine, I almost have the shooters ready, but the formula disintegrates too quickly and I haven't had time to figure out what's wrong. When do you want to try a patrol?” 

I suggest a Saturday morning to get the most buzz. Since we're trying to get his attention right?.  Finally flinging away the wood on my hand I say with more confidence than the butterflies in my gut have, "Give me two more weeks, that is if the formula is ready,". Hey says doubtfully, "That seems early, but if it's done you can try. I suppose. Let's head in and start homework. Dad should be back soon from baby swim class,". I mentally groan at homework, who can focus on polynomials when you could be training for superhero-dom. But I remind myself if I want to get my visits with Beni reinstated my grades will have to blind those Smiths with their brilliance. 

[deepdalecamping]

A fun, relaxed workshop to learn the basics of willow weaving whilst creating a teepee birdhouse. Suitable for beginners. Deepdale Farm, Main Road, Burnham Deepdale, Norfolk, PE31 8DD