#dandelions are soooooo important

[stevie-petey]

Hi there, I know you're super busy and I hope things are going well for you in school!! I saw your hcs post and it gave me an idea for a blurb. Could we see Jonathan and his crush on bug when they were younger. Like him just absorbed and enchanted with bug while she's just running around completely unaware. Maybe like they're exploring in the woods and Jonathan gets nervous so bug grabs his hand and he gets so flustered. Thank you for your time baby!! Work hard and do great!

YES YES YES !!!!!

enjoy <3

"race you to the top!" you exclaim, giggling as you shove past jonathan and force your scrawny twelve year old legs to climb up weathertop hill. he tumbles to the ground.

its your first summer in hawkins, and jonathan has promised to show you every inch of this small town.

"not fair!" he shouts back, now yards behind you after youve rudely shoved him to get ahead.

jonathan watches as you turn back and giggle even harder at the sight of him on the ground. your laugh carries down to him and the sunlight illuminates your face. your smile is infectious and despite the mud now underneath his fingernails because of you, jonathan cant help but smile back at you.

you run through some dandelions and send them cascading around you as you continue to run up the grassy field, and as the soft dandelion seeds swirl around you, jonathan cant seem to catch his breath.

your hair is in pigtails and when you turn back to jonathan again to laugh at him once more, the sunlight catches your eyes and he decides that there isnt a color descriptive enough to capture their beauty.

"i won!" you dance at the top of the hill, having won the race by a mile, and stick your tongue out at jonathan. "you suck, bee."

jonathan rests his head in grass and admires you. youre glowing, your hair dances with you, and he doesnt think hes ever seen this side of you in the few months hes known you.

here, all alone together, far from the bullies at school and the yelling in your houses, the two of you can just be kids.

youre beautiful. theres a warmth to you that jonathan cant describe.

hes twelve years old, and he understands now why his parents drive each other crazy.

here you are, smiling at jonathan as if hes the best thing in the entire world, offering him your hand to help him up from the grass. your fingers are soft and slowly starting to become familiar to him, and jonathan finds himself shaking at your touch.

"hey, you okay?" you notice his sudden shift in mood.

its slight, all jonathan had done was shuffle his feet a bit away from you, and yet you had noticed. he doesnt think he will ever get used to you knowing him so well, in such a short time span, and when he tries to tell you that its nothing, the words die in his throat when he looks at you.

theres a stray dandelion in one of your pigtails.

it rests gently against your cheek, you havent noticed it yet, and jonathan slowly reaches out to pluck it out of your hair. his fingers shake and his hands feel clammy and he wonders how theres so many songs written about this scary feeling.

"here," he offers the dandelion to you. its all he knows how to do. its all he can give you.

blushing, you accept the flower and hold it delicately in your hand. "thanks, bee."

"anytime, bug."

its the smile that you offer him, shy and sweet yet reserved and vulnerable, that makes him realize that his crush on you is more than just a crush.

jonathan byers is twelve years old when he discovers love for the first time in a grassy field filled with dandelions and laughter from his childhood.

[foxboy-yakumo]

my boys !!!!!!!! it just occurred to me that i messed up the ordering of the names; Garu is Hydrangea and Karu is Marigold!! i submitted them really really last minute so i didn't think much about the particular flowers, just the colors associated with them :3 karu might have been a dandelion otherwise!! it would match well with his resilience :] (i couldn't think of many blue flowers though, so garu probably would have stayed a hydrangea)

and idk if that one person is still around that wondered in the notes if they were a system, but yeah!!! and the game is really really casual about it!!!! it's never questioned and no one treats them weird for it, they're just brothers and that's how it is, and everyone puts in the effort to get to know the both of them!! also they decide who fronts via rock paper scissors. /affectionate

ok ramble time/more elaborate version of their description up there because they're so. sososo precious to me.

when Garu first hears from Eiden (the game's protagonist) that Karu exists, he IMMEDIATELY wants to be his best friend and work together. Karu however has known that Garu exists for a while, and wants to get rid of him so he can protect himself against humans (he seems to have some kind of world domination aspiration going on?), because he sees Garu as stupid and overly trusting. overall, Garu seems to want connection and to be cared for by others, while Karu wants to keep them both safe (from people).

after a while, they end up both agreeing to choose a "trial human" in order to test which of their aspirations is better; they both choose Eiden, and end up following him around commanding him (Karu) and just being affectionate and friendly towards him (Garu) respectively. through Eiden, they start actually talking to each other more, and by present time, they both trust Eiden and each other.

...and though Karu probably would not admit it aloud, he does actually come to see Garu as his brother and his family, and he gets extremely protective and defensive over him. during the same event this reveal image is from, he takes over and protects the both of them after Garu starts crying.

lastly, some bullet point favorite fun facts about them!!

i got the idea for their ship alias because as i was putting together the reveal image, i noticed their eye colors are exactly across from each other on the color wheel! (and between that and the contrasting polarity of their ideals and aspirations, i thought it was a fitting name!)

they decide who controls their body via rock paper scissors, though sometimes they make exceptions if one of them really needs to be somewhere, or falls asleep suddenly

sometimes one of them is asleep while the other is fronting, but sometimes they're both present at the same time! as their relationship healed, they started being able to actually communicate directly with each other when they're both awake, and they have a tendency to say their responses aloud to whoever isn't fronting. (so it often sounds like one side of a telephone call)

whenever they have meals, they don't let themselves get completely full; they save half of their hunger for the other, so they can both have their own meals! (they're a wolf yokai, so food is very important to both of them.) i thought this was especially sweet and really thoughtful as far as "what are the implications of sharing a body" goes

Garu is consistently very friendly and sociable towards everyone, but wants to be helpful; Karu is aggressive and protective, but wants to be paid attention to/revered. I think it is soooooo interesting how they both quietly yearn for what the other has, and i think over time this helped them really deepen their understanding of and respect for each other

They're both kinda childish, but not childlike — it's hard to explain, but similar to how you would think of an adult dog? it's like, a mix of autism and animal tendencies that lends itself to simple ways of thinking if that makes sense??? anyway it is endearing and sweet without being infantilising or weird and i just love how they're written

i love them your honor

thank you for including them and hosting this tournament!!! it was absolutely delightful to see them here :3 and I'm excited to see the reveal for steal your heart later on!!! (pleasantly surprised that they held 36% even against a romantic-leaning angst ship with a thief in it, honestly!!)

Guess That Ship Tournament: S4 Round 3

steal your heart

Master thief finds himself fooling a detective to get away with his treasure, falls in love. Detective doesn't know how to trust and is too depressed to get away on a whim. Somehow, they end up in a life-or-death situation, learn to trust each other, confess their love and... part ways in the middle of the night, one left alone behind by the other after a promise of a future together.

Contrasting Colors

Two brothers; Marigold and Hydrangea.

They share a body. It is unclear when or how this happened; it just *is*. At first, they aren't even aware of each other's existence. Eventually, they start talking to each other by passing along messages through another character. Marigold expresses his distain for humans, and Hydrangea expresses his desire to trust and form bonds with them. Marigold claims that he wants to take their body for himself, and Hydrangea wants to be Marigold's friend and brother. Eventually, they do make amends and come to care for one another.

[aspookybunny]

Daffodil and dandelion :) ❤️

THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!!

Daffodil: what’s the most thoughtful gifts I’ve received?

I’m suddenly forgetting nearly every gift I’ve ever gotten. But from what I can currently remember lol either the heated blanket I got from my aunt and uncle, I’m always cold which is why they bought it and I use it all through the cold season and those thing are expensive so it was just really nice of them, and probably second to that was my mom just releasing me into Barnes & nobles with like $150. Got a lot of classics and mythology books

Dandelion: do I think I’m important?

I’m not sure I’m important to like the world functioning and stuff but I’m pretty sure I’m the most important person in the world to my dog. And that I’m important to my mom and some of my family and my friends and probably a few people in my future I haven’t met yet ❤️

Once again thank you soooooo much for the ask

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Happy Weedmas #420

I have a couple of fics that I started for 420, but sadly, only one of them is really in a state to be posted (see These Edibles Ain’t Shit). However, WiP Wednesday means that you get unfinished bits soooooo, enjoy! 

First piece is a random crew of folks smoking at a party in Nilfgaard, 2nd one is Meve’s first time getting high. 

Smoking in Nilfgaard

The thing about diplomatic banquets was that they were long and boring, and if you were at all connected to anyone important, you were expected to stay for hours.

Truly, the only way to make it through was to bring something to strengthen one’s spirits. Specifically, a strong something.

“Hot Shot called this blend the Devil’s Tatas and he swore it would make any evening survivable,” Gascon reported, as he packed his pipe. They’d ducked out into the royal gardens and he was positive they weren’t the only ones smoking. He was also positive that his weed was better than anyone else’s.

“Better deliver,” Vernon muttered, glaring suspiciously at their surroundings. Considering that was pretty much his default expression, Gascon didn’t make much note of it, instead lighting the pipe and taking a deep hit, exhaling slowly.

Vernon did the same, settling onto the bench next to Gascon, and for the first time all evening, some of the tension actually began to unwind from their shoulders.

“Shit, that does actually smell good,” said a muffled voice from the other side of some hedges. Gascon was pretty sure he recognized that voice, though, and from the way Vernon startled, he did too.

“Geralt?” Vernon called.

A moment later, two figures rounded the hedges next to their bench – one very clearly the infamous White Wolf witcher, who Gascon had met in passing once at the Battle of the Bridge, and the other a dwarf, who was nursing his own pipe.

“Sure smells better than our shit,” the dwarf laughed, though that didn’t stop him from taking another hit.

He wasn’t wrong, though, their weed smelled rank.

Gascon coughed, wrinkling his nose. He shared a glance with Vernon, but hey, the more the merrier, right? “Join us?” he invited.

“You sure?” the witcher asked, frowning uncertainly.

“Of course,” Vernon said easily. “C’mon, Geralt, sit down. You look like you could use a good hit.” So saying, Vernon tugged the witcher down into place next to him and stuck the pipe in his hand, relighting it for him.

Geralt shrugged, inhaling deeply and letting it out with a low hum, passing the pipe over to his companion.

“Oh, that is good,” the dwarf reported. “Thank you. Name’s Zoltan – nice to meet you.”

“Hi Zoltan, ‘m Gason, this is Vernon. So how’d you two end up stuck at this shindig?”

“Ugh,” Geralt groaned dramatically and Vernon laughed.

“Dandelion is performing,” Zoltan explained. “And from long experience, he cannot be trusted to look after himself. So…”

“So you’ve gotta do it for him,” Gascon snickered. “Fair enough. Always wanted to meet Dandelion.”

“Really?” Vernon cocked an eyebrow.

He flushed, shrugging. “Seventeen year old me had a huuuuuuuge crush on him,” he admitted. “Him and Calonetta were like my bisexual awakening, okay?”

Zoltan guffawed. “They’d both find that delightful.”

“Oh gods, you cannot tell them,” Gascon pled, face red. “Anyway, it’s not like it was anything special. Every teenager has a crush on Dandelion and/or Calonetta! They’re the heart throbs of the continent!”

“That’s beyond horrifying,” the witcher said blandly.

“Yeah, it hasn’t affected his ego at all,” Vernon snarked.

“You know him?” Gascon blinked. “Like, personally?”

“He worked for me for a while, as an informant,” Vernon shook his head. “Submitted all his reports in fucking iambic pentameter.”

Geralt and Zoltan both burst into laughter. “Of fucking course he did.”

“I’d recognize that braying laughter anywhere,” a brash voice said from across the garden and then three people were approaching them. “Ha, told you I smelled weed.”

“Never said you didn’t,” the other man accompanying the speaker said, “just said it didn’t smell very good.”

The woman with them just rolled her eyes, but she waved at them. “Hey, Geralt, Roche. Hiding from the party?”

“Yes,” Geralt said easily. “Okay, Keira I get being here. But what the fuck are you two doing at a diplomatic party in Nilfgaard?” He stared at the two men who, now that Gascon looked closer, had the same cat-like eyes all witchers had.

“I like parties,” dark-skinned man said. “And Lambert likes dressing up and judging people.”

“Speaking of,” Gascon felt the need to say, “your dress is gorgeous.” And it was – while relatively simple, it was a lovely deep red and had been tailored precisely to show off the curves of his body, from the way the high collar and lack of sleeves emphasized his shoulders, to the way the skirts flared out with a slit at the hem to expose the length of his leg.

Lambert smirked, painted lips curling coyly. “Thank you. It should maybe be noted that he likes parties because they make for easy marks.”

“Shh, don’t give away my secrets,” his companion shoved his shoulder lightly, eyes alight with amusement. “I’m Aiden. Would you mind if we joined you for a smoke?”

“Sure,” Gascon shrugged and introduced himself. “And I assure you, my weed is the one that smells good.”

That made all three of them snort, taking the pipe eagerly. The woman – Keira, apparently – was actually a mage, and revealed this fact by setting her fingertip on fire to light the pipe.

It was the kind of dramatization that Gascon adored, even if it freaked him the fuck out when she did it.

“So, what do we think of this shindig?” Vernon asked after a long moment of silence in which they circulated the pipe.

For the prompt: “first time high, now they’re really horny 😈😈😈”

Meve shifted, sitting next to a number of soldiers and Strays around the main camp fire and wondering how she’d ended up in this position precisely. It had started, she was fairly sure, with Gascon.

Most of the trouble in her camp these days seemed to start with Gascon.

Gascon had ended dinner with a claim that his man ‘Hot Shot’ had come through with a new blend and that tonight promised to be a good one for any who imbibed. It had, in all honesty, taken Meve several minutes to realize that Gascon was referring to a blend of intoxicants – specifically, herbs that he packed into a pipe and lit easily. But by the time she had that revelation, the pipe was already circulating the camp and, well, it wasn’t truly as if this could be much worse than the effects of ale on her army. 

She did make a note to cut off the liquor supply, though. The last thing they needed was anyone getting sick from overindulgence.

By the time the pipe reached the table near her, Meve had half-dismissed it from her mind, refocusing on her meal and on the paperwork she’d brought with her. So she was entirely unprepared for Gascon to step up and stick the pipe in her face.

“Want some?” he asked easily, as if the queen getting intoxicated alongside her troops would be no big deal.

“I shouldn’t,” Meve shook her head, pushing his hand away and signing a report with a flourish. 

“C’mon,” Gascon weedled, “you said it yourself – the camp has been overly tense of late. Besides, if you partake, then your General has no excuse not to, and frankly, both of you could use a night to unwind.

It was… oddly tempting. But… “at least one of us should remain in control of their faculties,” she pointed out.

“Okay,” Gascon agreed. “Then let it be me. I had a hit earlier, but I’m already sobering up. Seriously, you need a break, Meve.”

Meve frowned, looking up to meet his eye. He stared back at her evenly, face unusually serious. 

“One night,” he bargained. “Doesn’t have to be drugs, but however you wanna relax, do it. I’ll be on guard for the three of us tonight, all right?”

Slowly, Meve nodded. She supposed… if he insisted, then there wasn’t truly any harm in trying it out… was there?

“All right,” she murmured. “Then how do I do this?” she gestured at the pipe he was holding and he lit up, grinning at her and passing it over. 

“Hold it like this,” he instructed, moving her fingers into place. “Then, when I light it, inhale deeply and let it out slowly. You’re gonna wanna cough, and that’s okay, just breathe in what you can. Ready?”

At her nod, Gascon lit a match and held it to the bowl as she breathed in. 

He was right – she definitely coughed. But aside from that, she did feel kind of pleasantly lightheaded, the world almost starting to spin around her.

“Feel okay?” Gascon checked.

“Mm,” Meve hummed, closing her eyes, unaware of the way she was swaying slightly. “I think so.”

“Good. Now I’m gonna talk your General into taking a hit.” He winked at her, then sauntered off towards Reynard, who looked mildly alarmed to be the sudden target of Gascon’s attention.

Meve giggled to herself, finishing her food and just watching her soldiers as they laughed and smoked with each other. The floaty feeling in her head was nice, and it made her unaware of the passage of time, but when she next thought to look for them, Gascon and Reynard had both left – and suddenly Meve needed nothing more than to see them. Moving her body felt like swimming through molasses, but she staggered to her feet and headed off towards the command tent, mostly out of habit. That was, after all, where the three of them spent 90% of their time.

“No,” she could hear Reynard snap, “I’m not interested in your drugs.”

“Fine,” Gascon sighed, exasperation clear in his tone. “So don’t use drugs. But for fuck’s sake man, if you don’t take that stick outta your ass for even just a few hours, you’re gonna end up having a fucking aneurysm.”

Meve ducked into the tent just in time to see Gascon grab Reynard’s shoulders and look him seriously in the eye.

“Look,” Gascon said, “I promise I will not let anything happen to Meve or your men or anyone else, but seriously, you need a fucking break. It’s just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Staring past him, Reynard caught sight of her and his eyes widened, “Your Majesty.”

“He’s right,” she said softly, licking her lips. “It’s… I didn’t think I should either, but feeling this way now? Yeah, I needed this.”

“See?” Gascon waggled his eyebrows. “The drugs make it easier. But the point is giving yourself a break.” He held out the pipe again, offering it to Reynard.

Meve thought back to what she’d seen some of the soldiers doing, how she’d seen them sharing the smoke between them. She could – she could do that with Reynard.

She swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. 

Vaguely, she was aware that, were she in her right mind, she absolutely would not do what she was about to do. But at the moment, it was difficult to care. Instead, she took the pipe from Gascon’s hand and held it to her own lips, waiting for him to light it for her. Then she inhaled deeply, stepped close to Reynard, and dragged him down into her, until she could force his lips apart with hers and breathe the smoke out into his mouth.

Reynard inhaled sharply, breath hitching and choking lightly, but he didn’t pull away, even when she ran out of smoke but didn’t quite feel like withdrawing just yet. 

“Oh,” Gascon gasped next to her ear, and she drew back slowly, eyes fluttering open to meet Reynard’s shocked hazel ones. “Well, uh, that’s one way of going about it,” Gascon said, clearing his throat. 

There was something off about his voice, but Meve couldn’t seem to look away from Reynard for long enough to check. Instead, she brought the pipe to her lips again, a question in her eyes.

Reynard’s lips parted in answer and she kissed him, exhaling the smoke into his lungs. 

It was easy to lose herself in Reynard, in the movement of their lips against each other, especially once he began to respond in turn. But even so, when the gravel turned under Gascon’s boots as he moved away, her brain made note of it and she dropped the pipe, reaching out to grab Gascon’s wrist instead.

The clatter of the pipe against the floor startled Reynard, and he licked his lips, stepping back and staring at them both with wide eyes. 

The world spun around Meve a little too fast, and the way her blood pumped through her body was making her restless, making her hips shift. She could feel her heartbeat in the sensitive flesh between her legs, which she was fairly certain was not a regular occurrence, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad sensation, just an empty one. 

She knew how she could potentially fix that.

“Um,” Gascon coughed, tugging on his wrist lightly, though he didn’t pull himself out of her grasp. 

She frowned, and when she spoke, the words felt weird in her mouth, like they didn’t quite fit. “Where’re you going?”

“I dunno, go on watch, I guess,” Gascon shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. “So you two can cut loose.”

Meve couldn’t articulate her thoughts, but she did not like the idea of Gascon leaving right now. Reynard, it would seem, agreed with her, because he staggered over to the chair next to them, sinking into it and snagging Gascon’s other wrist.

“Uh?”

Inspired by Reynard’s move, Meve had the brilliant idea to push Gascon back until he collapsed onto Reynard’s lap. Before he could recover, Meve crawled up into his lap, hoping absently that she wasn’t crushing either Reynard or the chair.

That was how they ended up with Gascon stuck between Meve and Reynard’s bodies, all of them breathing a little too quickly. Meve leaned close, her chest pressed against Gascon’s, pinning his back against Reynard’s chest. Like this, she was just a little bit taller than all of them and she straightened in delight, enjoying that for a moment before she dipped down to kiss Gascon.

Gascon startled, but his mouth was soft and giving against hers. “Meve,” he whispered, sounding wretched. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’d never do this sober.”

“Says who?” she asked, squirming closer until the throbbing between her legs pressed snug against his pelvis. 

He let out a strangled sound, head falling back, and she couldn’t help but lean down to nip and suck at the exposed skin of his neck. Reynard likewise seemed to find it irresistible, because the General buried his face against Gascon’s neck opposite Meve – and if sometimes, while mouthing at Gascon’s skin, their lips met… well, that was just a bonus treat.

Gascon’s hips bucked, twitching as he tried to control them. “Meve,” he said seriously, “you’re not in your right mind. You and Rey-nard.” His breath hitched halfway through Reynard’s name and he arched as Reynard worried a mark into his skin. His hands circled her waist, but they were careful to remain respectfully placed. “You don’t want this.”

“Rather think I can prove that wrong,” Meve scoffed, grinding her hips down against his. She could feel the way his cock twitched and grew against her and it made her hungry for more.

“Fuck,” Gascon whimpered, and he wiggled, either trying to get away or to get closer – but he had no leverage in this position, and there wasn’t much he could do except be held between Reynard and Meve.

His movement rocked over her clit and it made her shudder, grabbing his face and devouring his mouth once more. His grip on her waist turned bruising and he swore against her, kissing her back like he couldn’t help it. She rewarded him by rolling her hips in deliberate circles, enjoying the varied pressure against her cunt, especially as his cock continued to grow. She rocked against it, practically riding him through their clothing, and she could see the way it affected both of them. Gascon, of course, was obvious – arching and bucking and whining, no longer trying to convince her that she didn’t want this. But below him, Reynard was equally affected, and Meve could tell from the way his dark eyes watched the movement of their bodies, from the way he muffled his low moans against Gascon’s neck, from the way his own hips jerked on occasion, even his iron clad control faltering in the face of this. 

Meve shivered, kissing Gascon again and again and again.