#empty dry fruit boxes

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[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SPRING — NANAMI KENTO.

contents. domesticity with nanami after moving in together. aka brushing your teeth. aka staring at him shamelessly as he does mundane tasks. (me writing someone other than gojo or geto ???? whatttttt :O)

it doesn’t hit you that you and kento now live together until the the morning after the first night.

it’s spring. there are flowers you want to keep in your balcony sitting in your living room, the box labeled dishes is half empty from only what you took out for dinner, and you aren’t quite sure where your clothing box is because you forgot to label it. but kento is handsome next to you in the bathroom, shirtless as he brushes his teeth.

there are two sinks—one for you and one for him, but you opt for brushing your hip against his and sharing one. he doesn’t say anything, just scoots a little to the side and rinses his mouth as he makes room for you.

“please stop staring,” he mumbles tiredly, “it’s getting awkward.”

“you look handsome,” you pout, “i can’t admire you?”

“i’m brushing my teeth,” he deadpans.

“yes, a very handsome sight. i love seeing your care for dental hygiene.”

kento sighs, grabbing the small towel from the side and patting his face dry as you lean down and spit, rinsing your own mouth and plopping your toothbrush back in place. next to his.

and your face wash is beside his too, and so is your shampoo and body wash in the shower. you step to the side, bumping hips with him again as you grin—it’s ecstatic, the expression on your face.

“kento, i just realized something,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his jaw. it’s smooth, the feeling of his skin under your lips—you watched him shave earlier, sat on the counter and swung your legs as he carefully ran the razor along his skin.

“and what’s that?” he asks, patting your face with the towel, gently wiping away the droplets of water with extra care.

“we live together now—and i can watch you brush your teeth every day,” you grin.

“we shared a bed last night,” he raises a brow, “i’m sure you realized a bit before this that we now share a living space.”

wrong.

your home isn’t put together yet—you couldn’t find your pajamas last night, so you wear kento’s. the coffee machine still hasn’t been taken out and plugged in yet, and breakfast is currently limited to cereal and fruit that doesn’t need to be cut until the kitchen utensils have been organized. your couch hasn’t arrived yet, and your bed is currently just a mattress on the floor until the bed frame is delivered.

it doesn’t really dawn on you that you and kento are living together until you wake up with his chest under your cheek and his breath fanning against your forehead. sure, you and kento have spent nights at each other’s apartments—but that always results in one rising before the other to leave early and make up for the extra distance in the commute to work.

today, however, you and kento are home together. it’s spring—you can hear cicadas calling and see the buds blooming in the plants outside. there are flowers waiting to be potted in your balcony, and fresh strawberries of the season waiting for you in the kitchen.

and when you watch kento take his time and brush his teeth, hip accidentally bumping against yours as he leans down to rinse his mouth, you realize your home is with kento now.

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “well, we’ve shared a bed before,” you kiss delicately at the slant of his jaw again, “but i’ve never seen you shirtless and brushing your teeth.”

“this new obsession is scaring me,” he mumbles, “what’s so special about me brushing my teeth?”

“oh, kento,” you grin, warm and bright and as fresh as the first breeze of spring, “it’s certainly a sight. you just have to see it.”

he hums, shaking his head gently as he chuckles in that soft, calm little way that he does. his arms find your waist.

your bathroom, even with missing shower curtains, feels like it’s always been yours. it feels natural, living with kento, it feels natural sharing a towel to wipe your face and leaving the door unlocked for the other to come in as you prepare for the morning.

“i have my own sight,” he murmurs, tracing your cheek as his hand cups your face, “you look lovely when you drool in your sleep.”

“kento,” you whine with a pout, “don’t watch me sleep.”

“how could i not?” he grins, brown eyes bordering on hazel as they brighten, “it’s the best new part of my mornings.”

he kisses you there, in the bathroom you still have to finish setting up, the tiles cool beneath your feet and his lips warm against your mouth.

it’s spring when you move in with kento—and you have a newfound appreciation for the season.

guess who wants to brush her teeth in the mornings with nanamin. it might be me. it might be my undying need for domesticity. it might be my deep desire to witness him spit. it might be both. i haven’t decided yet

[hedgehog-moss]

I realised I hadn't posted a greenhouse report since spring, and today seemed like a good day for a 2023 home-grown food review!

2023 was a great year for fruit; my apple & plum trees were so generous! In the greenhouse my most successful crops were tomatoes, red chilli peppers, beans, and pickles. I was able to make spicy plum chutney using my own plums, onions and peppers:

On the other hand I was unlucky with my non-greenhouse vegetables, there were so many insects this year and my courgettes got absolutely decimated. But then I complained about my bad courgette luck to some neighbours and was gifted 9 courgettes and 3 pumpkins. I spent the first half of my autumn cooking and freezing and pickling and preserving to try not to let anything go to waste; I made:

7 jars of pesto (with greenhouse basil); 8 jars of pasta sauce (with courgette-pumpkin-tomato-red peppers-onions-basil, + parmesan); an unknown but large amount of pumpkin-tomato soup (I put them in empty glass bottles and freeze them); 7 jars of spicy plum chutney; 2 small bottles of spicy oil for my pizzas (with some of my chilli peppers; the rest are still drying by the stove to become chilli powder); 5 jars of plum jam and 3 of blackberry jam (I also froze several kg of whole blackberries for winter desserts); 6 jars of pickles (they are delicious!! I'd never pickled pickles before this year, I'm really happy with the result); 12 small bottles of elderberry syrup; 4 large bottles of elderflower syrup; hundreds of little apple sweets; several bottles of apple juice; an absolutely dizzying amount of apple puree / compote / jelly, because I refused to leave any leftover apples for the dormouse population. They are not my friends.

(If you think I'm being too mean to the dormice, please know that a) they are unrepentant thieves; b) I became so competent at hiding my apples that a dormouse ended up sneaking into the shower at night to eat my soap. My bar of homemade (not by me) goat milk soap. It's hazelnut scented so I guess if you're a rodent it just smells like lunch.)

I took some stuff out of the freezer just long enough to take this family picture; though I already gave away a lot of things to guests and neighbours, so it's just what's left! (I also froze enough chopped onions to last until summer I think)

I am terrible at labelling my jars; in my hubris I always assume I'll just remember where I put which kind of sauce or flavour of compote. I never remember. I end up having to give my guests mystery jars, like "this is fruit jelly! Made with... fruits"

So it wouldn't get too monotonous I added various fruits to my apple purees: apple-raspberry, apple-blueberry, -plum, -blackberry... I also made a few jars of apple-pineapple-pumpkin compote because I had too much pumpkin and I regret not focusing on that from the start, this combo tasted so good and was the most cheerful yellow colour.

I finally used my last apples last week, making apple-quince paste which is currently drying in order to become sweets. I bought some pretty & thick paper to origami a few boxes to put them in, so I'll have New Year presents for my courgette-providing neighbours. <3

(My cats are currently banned from this room so they won't try to lick the fruit paste) (they don't even like it, they're just cats)

[anton-luvr]

# LITTLE THINGS THEY DO FOR YOU ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff | bf au ⚝ note ; sorry for not writing longer fics... im kinda stuck in a adhd slump right now so enjoy this riize drabble instead :] + reqs are open!

# SHOTARO. - putting you first. whatever it is and wherever you are, he'll put you first. you're going to a fancy dinner for date night? he opens both the car and restaurant door for you, leading you over to your reserved table by hand. you're sick? he'll cancel all his plans and stay by your side to take care of you. you're cold? his jacket is immediately taken off and put around your shoulders. nothing matters more to shotaro than you <3

# EUNSEOK. - making breakfast every morning. he doesn't care if you're not hungry or if he's running late. he'll make something for you to eat every morning, even if it's just a bowl of oatmeal with some fruits and honey. he knows how busy you can get, and he doesn't want the love of his life to go hungry throughout the day :(

# SUNGCHAN. - taking care of you. the s in sungchan stands for selfcare king. he prepares the best baths ever, water at the perfect temperature for you to relax in with your favorite scented candles lit. by the time you're done with your bath and get dressed, he's waiting for you with your favorite snacks and your favorite movie on the tv. hugs you tightly and kisses you gently throughout the whole thing as you melt into his arms <3

# WONBIN. - throwing the trash out. there's no way he's letting your precious hands touch the nasty trash bag, and it's too dangerous for you to walk out in the dark alone. even if he's sick, he'll waddle his way out of your shared apartment to throw out the trash. he doesn't mind at all, and the kiss you always give him when he comes back makes it all the better.

# SEUNGHAN. - leaving little love notes. he is such a romantic... writes down silly love notes or cheesy pickup lines or sweet compliments on sticky notes and hides them somewhere for you to be surprised with throughout the day. he'll stick them to the keyboard of your laptop, or on the milk carton in the fridge, or on your folded sweater in the closet. this way, he can remind you of how much he loves you even when he's not around <3

# SOHEE. - buying things for you. he remembers all your favorite things, and he'll buy them whenever he gets the chance. sometimes he buys these things just because he knows it's something that'll make you happy :( welcoming sohee home with his arms full of your favorite grape jellies or mystery box figurine series is common for the both of you, and there's nothing sweeter than the smile on his face when he gives you them.

# ANTON. - organizing your things. im talking about filling up your gas tank when it's almost empty, charging your nintendo switch for you so you could relax and play it on the weekends, getting you new shampoo when you're running out, taking your blazer to the dry cleaners before your work meetings. he does all of this silently, not doing it for attention nor affection. he just loves you so much that he wants you to spend everyday as smoothly as possible :(

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart (drop an ask to be added to the taglist!)

[starriegalaxy]

Imagine: Your Eclipse being a wonderful husband and preparing bento box lunches for Y/N for work. He calls them "husbento" boxes. Y/N has accepted that enduring bad puns for all eternity is a small price to pay for some excellent food.

Amary, I'm shaking you and maybe crying a bit ngl over how sweet and infuriatingly cute that is of an imagine... Husbento...... 🥺💕💕💕

Also, this seems more like a writing thing so lemme cook up a quick drabble.

Title : Husbento From Yours Truly

Tags : Fluff, intimate touches (non-se#ual), romance, romantic-leaning, suggestive themes (for only like 1 line-ish? but it's more to cuddles context lol), female reader, security guard turned office worker reader, Eclipse-centric 

Rated : It's not exactly mature but let's say teen and audiences (?)

Synopsis : You realise that maybe being married ain't half bad. For the umpteeth time.

Note :

Tagging @crabsnpersimmons @amarynthian-chronicles @hexcii

You wake up a few minutes earlier than your alarm clock to find your bed empty and cold despite being covered in a thick blanket. Where did your husband go? You try to smush your face back into your pillows to regain your precious sleep before inevitably giving up and just bringing your sorry behind to the shower. It'll warm you up in the meantime and you had work to prepare for so no more sleeping in allowed. Stifling a yawn with your hand, you wash your face and gingerly brush your teeth. Then, you stepped into the warm shower, letting it wash away your sleepiness.

Ah, bliss. Simple joy. Turning the shower off and drying yourself quickly, you put on your work clothes. It's snug and comfortable as you rush to tidy up your hair and then you were out of your shared room, almost flying off the stairs. Landing with a soft thump, you make way to the kitchen, where you find one of your husbands, Eclipse preparing your lunchbox.

Let's see what elaborate design he's prepared for you this time?

You peek over his forearm, not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder and hug him from behind. "Mornin, Clippy.", you murmur, zoning in on the food that was being organised. His extra pair of hands emerge, handling the food instead while he turns his torso and greets you with a quick kiss, hugging you back. "Good morning, Angel-eyes.", he murmurs upon your temple. You step back from the hug and he lets go, letting you sit down on the chair next to him. A hand delicately pets your hair before he puts in more things he had specially carved for consumption.

An assortment of patted down rice, some eggrolls sliced, cherry tomatoes and small orbs that were most like some form of fruit? You observed the colors and confirmed it to be watermelons and sneaked a piece. He gently swats at your hand with a, "Hey!" but not hard enough for it to fall. You eat it with no remorse. "What? It's just one...", you pouted while chewing. He rolls his faceplate in the semblance of an eye roll and continues his sorting.

There are cute toothpicks put on said cherry tomatoes and fruit while he was expertly putting tiny dots of sauce on the octopus-shaped hotdogs, placing them on top of the rice gently with chopsticks. It's cute as you study him, so concentrated. Eclipse's hands were steady, ultimately made for this kind of handicraft. He pinches your side when he's finished, crossing his upper arms with a satisfied sigh as he inspected his results. "Ouch!", you yelp, whacking his arm. "That's for stealing the watermelon before it was ready.", he side eyes you. Then, he leans down and plants a kiss on your lips. "That's for pinching you, love.", he chuckles.

You begrudgingly melt over the sweet gesture and turn away with a huff. "You can pretend you don't enjoy my kisses all you want but now, you're seriously late and should get going, sweetness.", he pats your back to get you to stand up. With a roll of your own eyes in retaliation, you arise from the chair as jokingly slow as possible with a steady expression. His eye twitches and he impatiently straightens you himself. You lean against him and he finds himself being swaddled in a hug again, this time, from the front. "Angel-eyes......", his voice box turns static-y, a touch of warning with the way Moon's voice seeps into it. You smile into his chassis that was covered by the frilly apron you bought him as a joke.

He ended up liking it too much, which was the opposite of the reaction you were hoping for initially. "Goodbye kiss?", you shyly lift your head and give him your best doe eyes. He heaves a long sigh, exasperated and smitten all the same. "You do know that I'm very bad at holding back.", he reminds you, the eye on his left turning red. A grin creeps up on your lips, smug as you continue to entice him consciously. Yep, consciously. You've long past seen his thinly veiled threats and were able to handle such things after awhile.

"...hm. Make up for it later then.", you tiptoe slightly to kiss his chin. He giggles and says, "Thank goodness." You giggle along with him. "Oh, oh! Before I forget-" You sound a hum of inquiry. "I finally know what to name these lunchboxes after some time.", he starts off. You wait for him to explain, wrapping your arms around his middle in anticipation, eyes wide with attentiveness. "It's a...", he drawls, giddy with excitement, quickly stifling it with a fake cough. "Husbento." One. Two. Three seconds tick by as you process. A hearty laughter comes out after the fourth and his rays spin happily. "Hahaha- no wait that's - pfffthahaha - perfect!", you laugh into his chassis. It was terrible in an endearing way. Of course! Of course it would be called that. It was so, so cute - Eclipse hums, "I'm happy to know that.", pleased with your reaction.

These silly jesters and their puns. Every opportunity was definitely spent well. You laugh away the last of your giggles and kiss him fully this time, pulling him by the ruffles, making sure he feels your smile. You lower back down with a, "Bad puns.... Honestly, a small price to pay for excellent food, I guess. I love you. Oh my gosh hahaha-", you clamp your mouth again with a grin instead and pull away. "Thank you though and oh - warm me up tonight, okay?", you wink flirtatiously, sending another flying kiss as you open the door. His rays spin rapidly this time as he catches the flying kiss with a dreamy sigh.

"Will do, Angel-eyes, have a nice day!" You send him one last grin before booking it to your car, your lunch - oh pardon - husbento in hand and carefully tucked into a lunchbag.

You were late but this was a great start to your day nonetheless.

The End.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hold Me Steady

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Dry humping. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Billy has a close encounter with one of the hotel's maids after agreeing to help her decorate the employee sitting space for Christmas.

Author's note: Day one of the Smuffmas prompts - "hand holding and dry humping". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She struggles down the stairs into the employee sitting room, the beaten up, old cardboard box she carries hindering her view, meaning she has to pick her way carefully downwards, one step at a time.

Halfway down, a large set of hands grip the box from underneath, relieving her of her burden, and she’s met with the wide eyed curious stare of bellboy, Billy Taylor.

“I’ll take that for you,” he says, giving her one of his trademark tight lipped smiles, before walking it the rest of the way down for her.

“Thanks, Billy,” she tells him gratefully, sighing with relief. “You on break?”

“Yeah, got fifteen minutes left,” he responds, setting the box down next to a pile of stacked band equipment. “What’s in here then?”

“The foyer’s being decorated for Christmas,” she tells him, coming to stand beside him. “This stuff’s not good enough to go out, apparently. Can you believe Mr. Garland wants me to throw it away?!”

Billy crouches, tugging open the box, raising his eyebrows as he pulls out a length of threadbare silver tinsel. “I can, actually.”

She playfully swats him on the shoulder, taking the tinsel from him and weaving it through the iron bannister of the stairs. “Thought we could decorate the sitting room with it. Looks more festive already, don’t you think?”

Billy chuckles. “If it makes you ‘appy, then why not? Want some help?”

She smiles, feeling her skin heat up as he looks up at her from where he’s kneeling. “You’re on break, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s not work if I actually want to do it,” he says with a shrug.

They grin at each other, and he continues to rummage through the box, pulling out cracked baubles and torn paper stars, as she surveys the small under the stairs space that the staff have to relax in.

“It’s weird to think I won’t be here next Christmas,” Billy muses, as he hands her decorations out of the box.

She looks away, focusing on running the colourful streamers through her fingers, doing her best to ignore the twinge of sadness that plucks painfully at her heartstrings. “Oh, yeah, you’ll be drafted, won’t you? I expect you’ll miss your mum’s figgy pudding.”

“I’d sooner have trench foot than eat mum’s figgy pudding, ‘orrible stuff.”

They laugh, and she allows herself a brief moment to admire the way Billy’s cheeks dimple and his eyes sparkle when he’s happy, before returning her focus to the decorations.

Within five minutes, the old piano in the corner is decked out in ragged paper streamers, the staircase’s iron bannister is woven with tinsel that’s seen better days, and a fruit bowl in the centre of the table contains the battered remains of tree ornaments of varying shapes and colours - a fitting centerpiece for the dowdy little space.

She steps back, admiring their work, eyeing the empty alcove above the brown leather sofa that’s tucked away against the back wall.

“Would be nice if we could hang this last piece of tinsel up there,” she muses, “not sure how we’d reach though.”

Billy steps behind her, looking with keen interest at the space she’s referring to. “I think there’s a step ladder in the storage room, wait here.”

He disappears out the back and a few moments later returns with a rickety wooden folding step ladder. It wobbles precariously as he unfolds it, setting it down near the sofa.

She draws in a nervous breath, brow furrowing as she looks at it. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

He presses his lips into a tight line, tugging at the hem of his uniform jacket. “Er…probably best if you go up, less chance of you breaking it. I can hold it steady.”

She hesitates for a few seconds, looking at it with uncertainty.

The final piece of tinsel above the alcove really would look nice.

“Okay, but promise you won’t let me fall?”

“Cross my heart,” he says, signing a cross over the left side of his chest.

She giggles, stepping forward and begins to climb up the ladder. It wobbles as she moves, making her breath hitch, until she feels Billy grab either side of it, holding it still. She climbs the rest of the way, pinning the last of the tinsel to the wall, allowing it to bow slightly in the middle.

It’s not until her hands are free that she realises the view that Billy must have, and brushes a palm over her skirt, making sure her backside is covered. She sees Billy turn scarlet in her peripheral vision, averting his gaze, and her heart flutters at the sight.

“Here, look, we missed something,” she hears Billy say, as she slowly starts to climb back down. She turns slightly, seeing him holding up mistletoe - a dried, long dead bunch of it, tied together with twine.

Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sight. “That’s mistletoe, Billy…” She breathes quietly.

“Yeah…” he replies, chest heaving as he stares up at her.

A moment of silence passes between them as they gaze into each other’s eyes, until she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Billy gasps, turning pink all the way to his ears, quickly stepping back, and she squeals, toppling forward as the ladder wobbles beneath her.

He is quick to drop the mistletoe, grasping her hands, allowing her weight to push him back into a seated position on the sofa, to prevent her from falling.

They both breathe heavily as she straddles his lap, their hands still clasped together, staring at each other with wide eyes.

“You saved me,” she whispers, “but you dropped the mistletoe.”

“You…you can still kiss me…if you’d like to?” He says hopefully.

She lets go of his hand, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. It’s soft at first, until his arm moves to wrap itself around her waist, pressing her close to him.

The kiss deepens, Billy groaning in approval as her tongue slips against his, their combined breaths hot and heavy against each other. She can feel his rapidly growing hardness through his trousers and grinds herself against it, as his hand slips beneath her skirt, the press of his fingertips feather light against the hem of her knickers through her tights.

There is nothing but the sound of the shared sticky click of their saliva as their mouths move together, and the creak of the leather sofa cushions as their hips push wantonly against each other. Desire sizzles in her blood, causing her core to throb with every press of his clothed length against her.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading down to the sitting room causes her to scramble from his lap, quickly smoothing down her maid’s uniform.

“Billy?” Calls out the voice of Feldman as he descends.

“Just on break, sir,” Billy calls back, standing and stealthily attempting to adjust himself.

“That ended ten minutes ago,” the older man says exasperatedly. “Come on, there are guests checking in upstairs with luggage that needs bringing to their rooms.”

Billy’s eyes dart around in panic, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, sir, lost track of the time. Can I quickly go to the toilet first?”

Feldman sighs. “Make it quick.”

Billy nods, shooting her an apologetic look before walking quickly away.

She puts a hand over her mouth, stifling an embarrassed giggle, knowing exactly what he intends to do.

“What have you two been doing down here then?” Feldman asks her, eyeing her suspiciously.

She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over her uniform once more, hoping her flustered appearance doesn’t give too much away. “Putting up decorations, Mr. Feldman. Looks great, doesn’t it?” She asks with a smile.

His eyes narrow, distaste apparent on his face as his eyes sweep the room, before looking back at her. “Yes, if you say so.”

She stoops, picking the mistletoe up off the floor and tucking it away in her apron pocket. She has a spring in her step as goes back upstairs.

That will definitely come in handy later.

[thecoiledserpent]

↻ REMEDIAL MEASURES FOR THE PLANETS : THE SUN

basics of vedic astrology. ask box. masterlist.

a malefic sun will bring problems from the government and money loss due to tax issues. a weak sun will reduce your impact on the world and increase your struggles in life; if other satvik planets (moon, mars, jupiter) are not very strong either, then the influence of tamas guna takes over the person. it makes them lazy, sullen, reduces commitment and increases cowardice. an unfavourable sun further leads to affliction to the eyes, leading to loss of vision in the worst case.

general remedies

waking up early and engaging in surya namskaar, to be practised before sunrise, depending on regional timings. for those invested in yoga, this is especially encouraged. you can search it up anywhere, and you'll get the 12 postures with the 12 mantras to be recited with each of them.

otherwise, greet the view of the sun in the morning with devotion (without having eaten anything, preferably before brushing) and bowing to him.

respecting, and looking after the father. it is strictly unadvisable to hurt him in any manner, except if he happens to be abusive, in which case i advise distance from him. for those who are close to / at good terms with their father, speak to him in your free time and cherish your bond with him.

avoid unnecessary arguments with authority figures.

including jaggery, ginger, cinnamon in the food if sun is benefic but weak. donating red coloured pulses to the needy on sunday if sun is a malefic.

wearing copper bracelet if sun is a weak benefic.

drinking water from a copper bottle / in a copper glass.

fasting on sundays. water, fruits, fruit juices, dry fruits, milk and milk products which do not contain salt are allowed to be consumed.

carrying out responsibilities properly, without complaints.

keeping a picture of seven horses running together with an orange background at the east wall / at the table / in home / work place.

for hindus / people believing in idolatry / people with any form of devotion to the planets as gods:

TO BE DONE DAILY:

one thing i wish to emphasize here is that vedic practices like the two following are to be done in places free from the influence of alcohol / drugs / meat / rahu dominant places. after having consumed any of these, stay away from the places where the god is kept / offered remedies to, to respect their sanctity.

employ your imagination to visualize the sun god in an anthropomorphic form (as a human). this is done to create a deeper emotional relationship with the sun which is not possible with an inanimate object.

the sun is visualized with two arms, his skin the colour of red coral, holding two lotuses in his hands, with golden armlets, bracelets, necklaces and shining gold earrings. he sits atop an open lotus, and has the radiance of a thousand stars. his chariot is driven by seven horses as he moves through the sky.

do this as you stand facing the rising sun, before 7 in the morning with an empty stomach and having taken a bath. you must have a small, round copper vessel (a lota) filled with fresh water. as you imagine the sun god, bow to him softly and raise your hands filled with the vessel and start pouring it in his direction, as though offering it to him and chant the following mantra:

ॐ  हराम  हरिम ह्रौं सह सूर्याय नमः 'Om Hraam Hreem Hraum Sah Suryay Namah'   ‘I salute the Great Sun God for his Divine grace.’

if this is too tough, you may go for a simpler one:

'Om Suryaya Namaha'

no special accents or anything, every letter to be pronounced properly as i have written in the english translation.

keep a bucket below where the water will be collected, or any other vessel and cast it aside. this water is not to be used for watering plants, washing etc. personally, i switch between three buckets. when one is full, i cast it aside and it just vaporizes by at least half within two weeks time by which i have to switch buckets.

this can be done from the balcony, through window etc. if a safe and clean waterbody is available nearby whose water you deem pure enough to be offered to a god, then take water from that body, offer it to the lord and pour it such that it falls back into the said body. bow to the sun, and return to your schedule.

TO BE DONE ON SUNDAYS / AUSPICIOUS OCCASIONS: (depending upon level of commitment, and financial influence)

if you wish to pray to the sun god and engage in mantra chanting, then you may establish a copper statue of the god, no bigger than your finger (or the thumb if you are a busy person and may have to skip this duty at times. large statues when unkempt curse the native for dishonour of the god.)

following is a good reference statue, but it is nearly the size of your hand and will require appropriate keeping.

discipline for taking care of statues of gods. not looking after the statue of gods is extremely inauspicious. if you do not have the discipline or time to dedicate some time in the morning / early evening to worship, then don't keep the statue in your home.

i will make a post about this if anyone needs additional or personal tips regarding idol worship, or how you can adjust it better with western culture. do lmk via asks.

remedies that can be done occasionally / weekly :

offer the sun god the flowers associated with him (lotus, nag champa, hibiscus, palash), red coloured garments (it can be any new textile, even unsewn cloth can be offered), wheat grains (100 g) and copper metal if within means. all of these items are to be distributed amongst brahmins (temple priests) to appease the god.

havan can be done on sundays.

rice cooked with jaggery can be fed to brahmins (temple priests); you can ask the local temple priests about it, or if any isckon centre is present, then the authorities present there will be able to guide you well about how you can do so. if temples are present locally, then you can simply donate the items / food in a tupperware to the temple priest. the raw materials can also both be offered (raw rice grains and jaggery.

a cow with calf be given in charity. (don't go around thinking this has to be done weekly 😭 do it once, or maybe once every four-five years if you have that devotion and money)

feeding birds on your own with wheat grains is another excellent remedy. offering water to them in shallow vessels to prevent smaller animals from drowning in it is great, too. if sparrows are there, then it is an even better omen. you can simply offer money to institutions who take care of birds, as well.

a general advise which is applicable to everyone, regardless of the sun's strength in the birth chart is to keep a hanging sun ornament at the entrance of the house / office / studio etc. it is highly auspicious and prevents the entry of bad energies into the house. if placed inside the house, it should be hung on the east wall.

ॐ नमो भगवते वासुदेवाय नमः

[soupandsauce]

OCD with Finn Hudson

Finn Hudson x Female Reader

I got back into my teenage obsession with Glee ever since I found out it's on Hulu and so I will now be writing for Glee characters! Requests are super welcome!

Summary: How Finn helps and supports you during your OCD episodes

This is mainly for my own comfort as I am really struggling with my OCD now.

Having contamination OCD is a debilitating disability. Not to mention suffering through it during high school. Your first week was comforting once you met with the counselor, Miss Pillsbury who also struggles with all things germs. She encouraged you to dive into a club to try and socialize with people. Thats what a club is after all, a group of people coming together for a period to support one another.

So you did, or rather, you ignored her idea until someone very handsome came up to you during a rather germs time.

it was lunch, and you were sitting alone in an empty classroom far away from the floating particles of the high school cafeteria. You sat down with a sigh as you opened up your bento box full of healthy and colorful food. after sanitizing your dried out hands, you started to eat. A few laughs and voices occasionally decorating the silence as students walked the halls.

One of those students was Finn Hudson, the quarterback for McKinley high as well as one of the guys known to be in glee club. He was rather tall, couldn't be shorter than six foot four and had soft brown hair. You had seen him in passing as you walked in the halls in between classes. he always had a smile on his face and seemed to be a very gentle and friendly person despite his popular status.

Finn saw you as you ate alone in the classroom. He saw how you were wiping off your fruits and the way that the table underneath you was still partially wet from what must have been a lysol wipe. It reminded him of Miss Pillsbury and how she struggles with OCD. He smiled at your cute frame, no taller than five foot two. He wanted to say hello but for some reason, he felt himself get nervous. As if your beauty enthralled him.

But before he could look away, you looked up from your lunch to see him. He tried to act normal.

"Why are you eating alone? We'd love to meet you." he says as he walks inside the classroom.

"Oh, um, Hi." I say as I blush softly, still stiff.

"Hi." he says softly as he walks over to the table you're at and sits down across from you. So he is incredibly kind.

"I'm Finn." he says "You're new right?"

I swallow a bite of food.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N" you say.

he smiles

"So why are you all alone in here?" he asks again.

You swallow again out of nervousness, you might as well be honest.

"Oh, I have a germ problem." You start

Finn's face softens even further if that's even possible as he listens.

"I'm guessing you've met the counselor?" He says with a cute smile

"You two have a lot in common."

You smile softly and blush again

"Yeah, she's encouraged me to join a club. She says it might help." You say.

Then, Finn smiles. again like he has an idea.

"Do you like music?" He asks

"Yeahhh?" you say, drawing your word out as if you know he's up to something.

Finn giggles a little before saying, "Join glee club! Or just stop by today after school to see what it's like. I'll be there." he says.

You smile softly and blush again.

"Okay" You whisper.

.

.

.

after school, you pack up your bag and put some hand sanitizer onto your hands, grimacing slightly as you see how dry your hands are becoming from the over use. As you stand at your locker, you see Finn walking the hall too and he gives you a smile and a wave. You smile back and wave as well before you turn back around to your locker.

Then, from behind you, a couple of football players are snickering as they both hold slashes in their hands and walk towards you. Finn watches and his usual smile quickly drops into a look of dread and worry. Finn quickly runs over to you and you turn around to see Finn, as well as these two football players all coming towards you, you flinch as they all three get so close, worried that they will touch you.

"Hey new girl, welcome to McKinley." One of the football players says with a smirk on his face as if he's up to no good.

"Don'y even think about it, dude." Finn says.

"Says you, you faggot. Everyone knows that Glee club members are all losers. She associates with you, so therefore, she's a loser too. And you know what losers get." The football guys says as he throws the contents of the slushy into the air towards you.

"No! Stop!" Finn says as he tries to block it, but he's too late. The cold, wet, and sticky slushy splashes all over your face, hair, clothes, and skin and you gasp so loud that Finn think it's a scream.

"Finn looks furious as the two guys who walk away with a strut. And for a moment, you think that Finn is going to run after them and punch em, but instead, Finn turns back to you with a terribly sorry look on his face.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry... I tried to stop them... I know you..." But he can't even finish his sentence before you start breaking down into a panic as you feel the blue slush all over you, CONTAMINATING you.

Finn watches in fear as you shrivel to the ground in a ball and cry as you hyperventilate and panic, unable to move.

"Here" Finn says as he takes you gently by the shoulders and walks you away from the large, watching crowd and into the empty football locker room.

"I-I-its- I..." You try to speak, not only about what just happened, but the fact that the locker room only worsens your situation due to the sporty, sweaty smell.

Finn is quick to fetch his duffel bag from his locker and rummage inside of it to hold out a hoodie and a pair of joggers.

He runs with a towel over to you and wipes off your face as you cry, barely registering the close proximity or how kind he is being to you for a moment. But after a few minutes of him wiping your face and hands clean, you start to catch your breath, hiccuping every so breaths s you sniffle.

"I know it's not the best place in the world, but there's showers around the corner if you wanna wash up a little. I have these clean clothes too if you wanna change." he says in the most gentle voice.

You sniffle as you look at his sorry expression, like he somehow caused it, and suddenly really start to feel for him. You start to tear up again and Finn sees it.

"N-No I didn't mean to make you cry again, im so sorry." Finn says as he stands up straight and puts his hands on his eyes.

"No Finn, you're just so sweet." You say.

"Thank you"

You then decide to take a quick shower while Finn waits right outside the locker room door, making sure that no one comes in. After about 20 minutes of scrubbing and washing, you finally come walking out slowly. Finn turns around to see you, 5'2, with damp hair, all while wearing HIS hoodie and HIS joggers which, mind you, swallow you whole. He smiles.

"How do you feel?" He asks

"better, thank you." You say with a quiet and scratchy voice from all the crying and hyperventilating.

Finn smiles back

"Do you still feel good enough for Glee club or do you want to try another day?" He asks, not wanting to pressure you after such a traumatic thing.

You feel some sort of pull to Finn, almost as if you want to be near him always.

"Only if you sit beside me, Finn" You say softly with a smile.

.

.

.

Time went on and Glee club was the thing that really helped you feel more normal, more accepted. And as promised, Finn sat by you each and every time. Almost everyone in the club, including Mr. Schue, were convinced that you and Finn were dating but the both of you denied it until the night of regionals. Before the show, behind the curtain, you two had a rather short conversation.

"Break a leg" You said to Finn

"I love you." he quickly gets out right before the music starts.

.

.

.

Since then, you two have been happily dating.

.

.

.

On nights where he spends the night, or a full weekend over, he always respects your boundaries and little rituals. Finn smiles as he takes off his outside clothes and changes into his inside clothes for you, giving you little winks here and there as he unbuttons his shirt. He helps you by wiping down the counters with lysol wipes after he cooks anything and helps you with the laundry.

But there are times when it gets so bad that Finn tries to help you refrain from doing your cleanings.

Often times, he sees how chapped your hands are from all the hand washing and hand sanitizer so he sits you down and rubs lotion on your hands, whispering softly how you have to take care of them. or he will challenge you to only wash your hands for a minute as he stands next to you. He praises you when you do well.

.

.

.

Mr. Schue really likes you and Finn because he sees himself and Miss Pillsbury in you two. he can tell that you two are going to last based off how you treat each other. And that's the main reason why you two commonly get to sing all the ballads. After performance nights, Finn and you have sleepovers where you clean the trophy while watching a movie together, it's really sweet.

[witch-of-the-world]

The Other Way Around

(What happened just before Macaque's debut)

Macaque stepped out of the shower, flicking his ears up to rid them of water and rubbing the towel across his shoulders.

He'd finally gotten rid of the smell of corpse. When they'd first woken him, he'd been wild, panicked. Death was disorienting, and being brought back from it several times as much.

But now his head was clear. He was already beginning to plan out exactly how he was going to get back at Wukong.

He'd been lucky to find an abandoned apartment that still had running water. Luckier still that said abandoned apartment was above an abandoned theater. He was oddly comforted by that. Perhaps it was a sign that he was on the right track.

If he believed in signs, which he wasn't entirely sure he did.

After drying himself off, he tossed the towel onto the empty bedframe in the corner of the apartment. Uncaring about modesty in the safety of the abandoned building, he opened the door and strolled down the hall to the barely-functioning washer and dryer at the end.

Right as he got to it, the dryer buzzed loudly. He covered his ears, flinching for a moment. The world certainly was a lot noisier now.

But he'd learned as he always had. There were fast carriages called cars and bright light-boxes playing stage shows called televisions. And there were machines that would wash and dry your clothes for you while you were in the shower.

He opened the door to the dryer and pulled out his clothes, bundling them in one arm and heading back to the apartment he'd chosen. Shutting and locking the door behind him, he held them up to his face, inhaling deeply to make sure the smell was off of them too. The washer had overflowed horribly after he'd made the mistake of scraping shavings of body soap into it, but now both he and the clothes were clean, smelling faintly of spices.

He wrapped the outfit around himself, and as he was about to fasten it, a thought occurred to him.

Guess I better wear it the other way around, huh?

He switched the front panels, so that the right side lay on top. It felt wrong, but he knew it was probably right. He'd been dead, hadn't he?

Dead.

He'd really been dead.

The memories were fuzzy, scrambled. Nothing came clearly to him when he tried to remember it. He was beginning to think that was a good thing. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember his own death. He got enough nightmares as it was.

But it had been made abundantly clear to him who was responsible.

It was eerie, the way she'd spoken through that man. The only way she could speak from where she was, as she had said.

Her. The one who'd brought him back.

She had told him a lot. She had been quite firm that any betrayal would be met with severe punishment. She had instructed him to wait, for now.

But he knew he couldn't wait. Hatred burned in his heart for the person he had once loved most in the world. And he knew, from his listening, that now was the right time to strike back at him.

He had a successor. A boy who had taken the title of “Monkie Kid”. Who was still, Macaque could tell, in the early stages of his training.

Which meant he could be manipulated.

It meant going back to Flower-Fruit Mountain. Not that he planned to stick around much. But he needed to see just how much the boy respected Wukong so far. Then he'd know how to get between their relationship.

He chuckled to himself. He was so used to being referred to as the quiet one. The one who just followed Wukong around and never made suggestions of his own. The few times he had, his sworn brothers had been shocked at just how devious he could really be.

He hadn't even thought of it as “deviousness” or “playing dirty” at first. If there was something they wanted, there were easy ways to get to it. It was simple. Why did so many people like to complicate things?

He made sure his clothes were in place, summoned his shadow staff and placed it on his back, and slipped through a shadow portal.

When he returned some hours later, he was almost giggling with glee.

This was too perfect. Wukong had the kid smashing a mural instead of training. The boy was already complaining, and Wukong had said there would be more work done tomorrow. The cracks were already there.

All he had to do was slip into the right role.

It didn't take him long to plan out how he would get to the boy. By the time he finished eating the ripe plums he'd swiped from the mountain, he had already worked it all out in his mind.

She'd told him to wait, but he couldn't. Anyway, why wait much longer? He knew that her plan to bring the key that would release her and the door that held her back together had already played out. He knew she was free. The thought scared him a little, but at the same time, wouldn't it be better for both of them if he already had an in? If that successor—and maybe even Wukong himself—was already dealt with?

Not bothering with the bedframe, he spread the blanket he'd procured out on the floor and lay down. Tomorrow. There was a lot to do tomorrow. He was usually a night owl, staying up until the wee hours of the morning at times, but he'd have to be up with the sun to get it all done.

As he lay down and closed his eyes, he pushed out the sounds of the city. Cars. People. Hundreds of thousands of noises.

Thunder.

His ears twitched. There was a thunderstorm. On the edge of the city. Most likely there was cropland there. He'd heard something about a “weather station” that controlled the city's weather, but there had been an awful lot of information to take in all at once.

What an annoying thing, thunder.

But tonight, after going back to the mountain, he couldn't help but think of what it used to be.

When he was very, very young, he used to be terrified of thunder. Back then it was the loudest thing his sensitive ears had ever heard. He would hide deep in the recesses of a cave, hide from the sound. Cover his ears and cry.

And Wukong would be there too.

Well before he was ever king, back when he had a name no better than “Stone”, he would sit by Macaque's side during thunderstorms.

Hold him.

Help cover his ears.

The thunderstorms still brought panic and tears, but his presence had helped.

He didn't know when he had grown out of it. His life stretched back so far and it was so, so complicated. As he'd grown, gained control of his powers, he'd learned how to block things out. Now only sudden, unexpected noises got to him.

But the rolls of thunder on the edge of the city brought him back to that cave. To his absolute terror, and to Wukong's comforting arms.

Wukong.

It was all his fault. Why could he never just listen? Why did he have to...

Why, why, WHY?

He rolled over in a huff, simmering with anger.

It could have been so easy. They could have had everything. Just like he promised.

Just like he'd always promised.

But he'd gone back on that promise. Betrayed his truest friend.

Well, he would see. He would see just what Macaque could do now. He would see.

What if he apologizes?

Macaque squashed that thought quickly. No way. There was absolutely no way that Sun Wukong would apologize to him.

And even if he did, it wouldn't be enough.

Besides, with her at his back...

There was only one way. Only one way to settle his mind, and more importantly, only one way to survive.

Manipulate the boy. Take his power. Kill him.

Kill Wukong.

He shut out the last of the sounds and fell into the depths of sleep.

[advice-to-try-8d]

What you can outside the internet

With no or almost no money for entertainment:

Mancala: Search Mancala Rules and how the game looks online dig some small holes on the ground or instead of holes draw circles on paper get some small stones or other small stuff and that's an easy 2 player game

Diy Bowling: get a couple of empty bottles you can take from a recycle bin if you have non fill with sand and throw a ball in that direction and call a couple of friends

Library: they don't only have books but some have free movies free computers comics or free events check them out!

Park

Make Belive: you can play pretend almost anywhere in the world with enough imagination you can pick up some sticks to add extra stuff or use building as part of the story if you get kicked out make it a part of it and move to a diffarant location! With some time and diy you can even make extra props look online for advice!!

The Apricot Pit Game: It's a game where you dry naturaly apricot seeds (after you finish the fruit) and try to throw them to score the most point into a predetermined area harder to throw more point for example you can cut holes in a shoebox and the hardest to score is more points or from farther away etc etc

Meeting at a friend place

Free art galleries schools may have more of those made by the students

Diy arts and crafts when your about to throw away something if you think it cam make a nice craft save it for later to have extra metirials to have fun with don't save all to not start accidently hoarding stuff but yes some an empty cardboard box can make a nice fairy house with some colors as I say

Planting stuff many ppl eat fruits and veggies that have seed when you finish you can plant some and see how it goes maybe search tutorials online and use the water from outside to not higher the water bill

Water Fight: if there's any hoes or chip balloons or even bowls you can fill with water you can start throwing water at each other good for a hot fay

Snowball fight: if you have opposite weather

Sand castle: If you have any sand near ya you can get some water maybe some spoons or even just your hand and start building sand castles aren't just for beaches they can be made anywhere there's sand

Going for a walk and following a random safe animal see where it goes maybe it will interact with you too ^^

Draw: if you have some paper and a pencil or even your finger and sand you can do that you can even look outside for inspiration and draw in the street

free outdoor games search that phrase online you will find there's more than you think!

Go visit ikea play pretend there or hide and seek the place is huge and cool

Invent games look at what you own what's near your home and do stuff inspired by it! Just keep it safe

Go visit a mall try on some clothes as you would play dress up with buying non or explore teh area

Search free event near me just eat beforehand cause the food is probably not cheap to cover it

You have old clothes your not happy with or don't fit you anymore make them into something new! If a jacket gloves crop top tank top doll clothes pillow case new bag whatever you pls! It's free fabric now same with old bedsheets or curtains your about to change if you want even more free fabric tell your friends taht if they are about to throw away clothes pls give them to you!

Ask for specific birthday gifts many ppl want to start hobbies they can afford or go on a specific adventure but sometimes if you ask for your birthday from a bunch of ppl to come togather fir the same gift you may be able to have it!

Picnic: if everyone brings a bit from home you can have something fun togather!

And there are many more! Just search the internet and use your imagination!

Humans are not ment to be trapped inside a digital world at all times so let's change it!

By letting ppl know they have options to live outside of it too!!!

[buychocolateboxesonline]

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[winniemaywebber]

stop - muse a holds muse b back from walking back out into the fray

or

courting - muse a rests one hand on muse b’s back and holds out the other for muse b to hold to help them climb up/down something

for whichever of your girls you feel inspired for today, please!

-lestweforget5

hiiiii friend! thanks so much for this. I loved writing this one (from this prompt list, feel free to drop them in my ask box if one seems to pique your interest!) I wrote for Olive and Dougie 🥰

She is a little miffed. The effects of being apart from her best friend Valencia were beginning to take hold, despite her traveling back to Brooklyn only two days ago. Val and Ev had made the journey to Michigan with Olive, the pair of them staunchly certain on making sure their girl got there safely.

courting: muse a rests one hand on muse b's back and holds out the other for muse b to hold to help them climb up/down something.

Olive awakens with a sigh, patting the empty space next to her. She had hoped that Dougie would still be sound asleep next to her, whimpering slightly as he dreamt before curling himself around her when he feels she's shuffled closer to him. Alas, he is nowhere to be found, his side of the bed cooled off making it obvious that he'd been up for quite some time.

“You don't have to, Ernest,” she had protested after they'd been told the price of three train tickets to Lansing. “I can make it myself!”

“No,” he had replied sternly, his eyes darting towards his fiancee, Val. “We are coming with you.”

“Too right,” the Brooklyn native had interjected, her hand going to grab Olive’s and their fingers intertwining. “Besides,” she sighs. “If he doesn't see his guy, he'll be upset. Think he's having withdrawal symptoms.”

“Hey!” he teases, hand comically on his heart. “How did you guess?”

The girls had, of course, spoken on the phone the very second Val and Everett had arrived back in Val's hometown, the pair of them chuckling down the phone receiver. It was a strange feeling, sharing the same sleeping and living space, the same air and body heat for almost two years to now being apart like this. The pair of them feel as if a part of them is missing, and it's a part they both need in order to function. At this realization, Olive feels her chest tighten as tears stream down her cheeks, wiping them away quickly when she hears the creak of the wooden stairs as someone climbs up them. There is a soft rap on the door, before the golden door knob rattles as it opens.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Dougie greets softly, retrieving a tray and closing the door by kicking it closed with his leg. “Thought you might be hungry,” he says, gesturing towards the tray that he puts down on the blanket. She looks down and sees toast, coffee, a bowl of fruit and a delicate pink daisy he'd stuck in a small jam jar. Before she can help it, she feels a sob rise up from her chest to her throat once again, two fat tears dropping into the coffee.

“Hey, sugar,” he soothes, moving closer to her to wipe his thumb under her eyes in order to dry them. “What's up?”

“It's so silly,” she sniffs. “This is just all so different and I don't do well with change. I'm still used to waking up with Val in the hut and now–ugh, I'm sorry. I'm happy to be here with you, truly I am. It's just…”

“Strange?” he asks, finishing the sentence for her. “You've had a lot of changes all at once, Ollie. I get it, honey.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, wiping her nose quickly. “You got up early. I thought you'd still be asleep.”

“Well,” he shrugs, his hand on top of hers. “I had a feeling you'd be a little sad today, so I did something for the two of us and thought we could go out.”

“Oh, Dougie,” she cries. “I don't think I'm feeling good enough to even go beyond the backyard.”

“Then that's where we'll go. Saves on gas,” he jokes, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “No rush, okay? Eat, relax, come down when you're ready.��

“Okay,” she breathes, biting into her toast and sipping the coffee. “Perfect.”

—

Eventually venturing down the wooden stairs, Olive takes one last look in the mirror that hangs on a wall at the bottom of the stairs, smoothing her dress of a final few wrinkles.

“Hey,” she smiles, as Dougie turns around to greet her. His eyes soften the moment he sees her. “I know we're only going in the backyard but I thought I'd feel better if I made myself pretty.”

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. As always.”

“Thank you, darling,” she replies, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles at him, that dimple he's crazy about showing itself as she grins. He takes the two steps that separate them and kisses her deeply, her arms winding around his neck while his fall to her waist, momentarily running his hands over the soft material of her dress as he pulls her even closer.

“Come on,” he says. “Everything is set.”

—

A simple, large gingham blanket lays on the slightly overgrown lawn under three large trees, the blossoms just beginning to bloom at the turn of the season. They sit with their faces toward the sun, the soft warmth of it already making Olive feel a little less alien in her surroundings. Right above them is a tree house, the wood creaking in the gentle breeze of the day.

“Is this a picnic?” she asks, eyes narrowing playfully at him.

“Sure is, Ol. Do you like it?”

“I love it, James. This is gorgeous.”

“Phew,” he breathes out, comically wiping his brow. “I'm still trying to figure out what we both like to do together. So much of our time used to be taken up that we never really discussed it.”

“War tends to do that, my love,” she laughs, kissing his cheek as he sits beside her. “Thank you,” she murmurs, nesting into him.

“Anything for you, doll. Here,” he says, rummaging in a picnic basket. “Made your favorite.”

“PB and J?” she asks keenly, unwrapping it right away. “And how did you cut it? Crank’s way or Gale's?”

They both laugh, reminiscing on Olive's first PB and J where the whole gang had convened in the Mess Hall kitchen to give British Olive the true American experience of her first peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All had helped, including Croz spreading the peanut butter, Val spreading the jelly, Helen finding a plate. Ev even cut the crusts off before handing it to Egan, who, instead of making himself useful, took what he called a “tester bite,” all while Charles and Gale debated whether it tastes better cut into rectangles or triangles. Crank had won the toss, Olive presented with two neat white triangles on a small plate.

“Crank's way - the only way,” Dougie says, taking a bite of his own. “I'll never forget the moment I saw your life change after taking your first bite.”

“Yep,” she giggles, the bread sticking to her teeth a little. “Been my favorite ever since; but only if you make it.”

“Why?”

“Tastes better that way.”

Olive turns her head up slightly to shade her eyes from the glowing afternoon sun, finding a wooden board on top of a few conjoined tree branches.

“What's up there?” she asks, pointing to what she's just seen.

“Oh, that?” he asks as he looks up. “My old treehouse. Dad and I built it one summer.”

She stands, wiping her hands on her skirt and finds a small set of stairs leading up to a doorway.

“Can I go inside?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says, shaking his head. “Read the sign, please.”

“No Girls Allowed,” she reels off. “James Douglass, you are–”

“I know. And there's proof that I've always been this way. Cheeky and insufferable.”

“Let me in, meanie.”

“Only because it's you,” he winks, leaving the blanket and joining her at the stairs. He goes up first, making sure the old, rotting wood would hold the pair of them. When he is sure, he places one hand on the small of her back and pushes a little, allowing his free hand to grip on to hers to help her up a little.

“This is adorable, James,” she squeals, taking practically tiptoe like steps to avoid the wood creaking or anything falling. “So cute.”

“Don't let Mom catch you up here with me,” he laughs, once again nodding towards the sign.

“Insufferable,” she sighs, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But you love me.”

“I do,” she smiles, taking his hand in her own and stroking the back of it with her thumb. “Gimme a smooch,” she giggles, pulling him towards her. “No-one's around to see you break your own rule.”

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

🦐- Talk about a time when you made yourself laugh or cry?

Heyyy sorry this took so long I've been a lot busier than I thought! (From this WIP shop ask game!)

🦐- Talk about a time when you made yourself laugh or cry?

Believe it or not, I don't make myself cry. But I make myself laugh so here's stuff that made me laugh! Longer post to justify the time you had to wait:

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

“Also, I just turned thirteen today, so I’m not a child.” “A child means someone between infancy and puberty,” Akash confirmed. “He definitely has hit puberty. Do you want me to tell you about the erection he got—” “Okay, that’s enough!” I spat out the words as fast as I could. Akash laughed.

From The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“Ah, yes!” George said. “Well, the cheese from cowyotes is incredible.” “From what?” Liam repeated. “Cowyotes.” “That sounds like a shitpost.”

From The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I gasped in realization. “Robbie, is there any chance you forgot to take your Adderall?” “What? Of course I—” His face went slack and he bolted to his feet. “Shit, shit, shit. My parents were on the night shift all week—” “Pretty sure it’s your responsibility,” I said, half-joking. “I know, but I had projects and—” “I told you: set an alarm.” “Okay, I get it—” “Just go home and get it.” “Yes.” Robbie stood still for a second, then bolted toward the hallway. “I’m going home!”

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

“You thinking about something?” Akash asked at the table as I stared at the bowl in front of me. “Have you ever thought about how cereal is like the skeleton of milk?” “You’re implying that milk is meat, and I don’t like that at all.” “Milk has fat—yes, I’m implying that it’s meat.” “So milk is cereal that’s, like, boneless?” “Exactly.” “However, some people have cereal dry, which means that the cereal is a fatless skeleton, but we add fat if we feel the need.” “Does that make the bowl the flesh?” “Of course it does.” “So we’re eating the insides right out of the skin?” Akash paused. “Yes.” “Terrifyingly morbid,” I said, taking a huge bite of my soggy bowl-innards. “Some people have fruit in their cereal,” Akash pointed out. “What are those?” “Organs?” I suggested. “Sure, why not?” “I just realized something even more morbid.” “What?” “So we keep the bones in its own separate box, we keep the meat refrigerated in a liquid state, it’s already disemboweled, and we keep its empty flesh sack in a dark room with other flesh sacks.” “What the heck are you guys talking about?” I looked up to see Sammy in the doorway, her hair a mess from just getting out of bed. “You’re up early,” I noted. Sammy shrugged. “I got hungry.” “You want some disemboweled innards served directly in the flesh sack?” Akash asked, holding up his bowl. Sammy pressed her eyebrows together in a disturbed expression. “I think I’ll get toast.”

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Lexi POV)

“Is that a dragon?” Hye-Jin whispered to me. “Nah, that’s just Gabriel,” I whispered back. “Hey, Gabriel!” I said as we neared.

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Robbie POV)

I turned back to Akash. “Well, we’d better eat our sandwich before it gets cold.” “They weren’t hot to begin with,” Akash said, smirking as he finally picked up his sandwich from the plate. “Maybe not yours, but mine got ‘Sexiest Sandwich Alive’ back in 2022.” Akash almost choked on his sandwich. He swallowed his food and finally laughed.

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Akash POV)

I made eye contact with Robbie, who raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Dude, what the hell?” I furrowed my brow to say, “What are you talking about?” He looked at Gwen, then back at me, which implied he was saying, “Dude, your girlfriend.” I cocked my head to ask, “What about her?” Robbie sighed as if to say, “What a dumbass.” I gestured to the chessboard to tell him, “What about watching Ty get his ass kicked?” Robbie widened his eyes as he tilted his head toward the elevator, telling me, “Gwen wants to spend time with you alone, you idiotic nut box.” I opened my mouth in an “O” as if to say, “Oh, yeah, she does.” Robbie rolled his eyes as he turned to Lexi beside him, as if to tell her, “Can you believe this joker?” Lexi laughed, somehow having followed the whole conversation.

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Akash POV)

“Hey, guys.” Parker flicked his hand, summoning his remaining breakfast to his newly-picked table on light current of air. “What’s up?” “Me,” I said, causing Robbie to snicker. “Are we still on for practice today?” “Uh, yeah of course,” said Parker as Wade joined our table. “Your joke sucked. You’re sitting down. We’ll have to work on that.” “Is part of being an air-molecule-manipulating person good humor?” “I thought it was until you came.” “Give him a break, Parker.” “He made a bad joke, Wade! What am I supposed to say.” I ate my bowl-innards so I didn’t have to reply. Yeah, it was a bad joke, but it was the anti-humor that made it funny! “The fact that it was bad made it good,” Robbie defended. I smiled smugly at Parker through my cereal-filled mouth. Thanks, Robbie. “Humor is a subjective but meticulous craft,” said Parker. “The joke needs to make sense to be funny, and considering that you are not up, it doesn’t make sense.” “But I’m a flyer,” I protested. “That’s the logic.” “You said it when you were down!” Parker protested. “That would be like Jazlyn saying, ‘I’m so hot!’ when she’s not on fire!” “I’m gay, but Jazlyn’s objectively hot,” said Wade. “Totally not the point,” said Parker. “You’re taking this too seriously.” Parker laughed, throwing his head back. “Serious? Me?! That’s a first. Could you tell that to Mrs. Holladay? Besides, I’m just helping the kid out.” “You’re, like, two years older than me,” I pointed out. “Regardless, I’m helping you out. Watch, I’ll make your joke work.” In a fast yet graceful move, Parker thrust his hands out and up in a swooshing movement, causing a gust of wind to suddenly lift me out of my seat and a handful of yards in the air.

From School of the Legends Year One (compilation since I don't have to deal with narrators)

He was an old man with a farmer’s tan due to being, well, a farmer who was also old.

Tierney was jolted awake that morning in two ways. The first jolt was from Jarred rapidly knocking on the door to his room. The second was a literal jolt of static shock from the friction his body caused from sliding against both the fitted sheet beneath him, as well as the duvet covering him, when he jumped from the first jolt. He yelped at both, causing Jarred to laugh from outside the door. Tierney scrambled out of bed and practically ran to the door--bare feet sliding on the hardwood floors--threw the door open, and jabbed his finger into Jarred’s side, causing Jarred to let out a rather embarrassing “eep!” as the static shock pierced through his cotton clothes, and he jumped back, almost falling over when his feet slipped on the carpet beneath him. Now it was Tierney’s turn to laugh. Jarred regained his balance and pointed a finger at Tierney as a mock threat. “You’re dead.” “Not if I kill you first!” Tierney said, jumping out at Jarred, who bolted down the hall. Tierney followed his brother with his hand outstretched, making extra sure to drag his feet on the carpet to keep up the static, even if it slowed his pace. Jarred turned a corner and made an “oof!” sound as he ran into Ritchie--both falling over, causing Tierney to trip over both of them and crash to the ground.

“Why are we less mature than our ten-year-old sister?” Tierney asked, sitting up to join his brothers. “Don’t worry, she’ll mature less when she’s older,” said Jarred, rising to his feet.

This was a chance to show that he was special. He wasn't just the third-born son of the English king who blew things up. He was gifted. He could learn magic and maybe even master potions! He looked at the potions on his desk and smiled. Maybe he could figure out how to not blow things up while he was there.

If Jack had a euro for every time he had climbed a magically-overgrown plant today, he’d have two euros. That wasn't a lot of euros, but it was weird that it happened twice.

“I’ve always wanted to play the harp,” said Jack, admiring it. “Since when?” “You don’t know everything about me.”

Yay, this was fun I hope! Sorry again for the delay.

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

SOTL intro

SOTL tag list (ask to be +/-): @illarian-rambling @katwritesshit @wyked-ao3

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." (For SCtW please? 0w0)

EEEEEEE this one was fun~

-

Hunter (2230 words)

The sound of your name urged you out of sleep, sluggish and muggy, thick summer air clogging your thoughts and lungs as you rolled over and into a face of feathers. Unpicking your way through arms and fluff, grimacing as sweat left the sheets trying to cling to you, you shuffled up to the bedroom door and opened it to Montague.

“Sun’s making breakfast, you should probably get up if you want it fresh,” he prompted. “Both of you.”

“Wasshe making?” you mumbled out.

“Blueberry pancakes apparently.” There was a loud plastic clatter from the kitchen and Montague promptly scooted backwards, glancing over his shoulder. “...I should-”

“Yeah, I’ll go change.”

Closing the door on Montague’s rapidly retreating back, you began your morning routine, stumbling blindly through to the bathroom. Lukewarm water never felt so good, clearing off the secondary skin of grime that had formed overnight and leaving you just a bit more alive compared to ten minutes ago. Towelled down to a point where you weren’t exactly dry but you were at least less damp, you pulled on a clean set of clothes and stepped out and into, once again, a face of feathers.

“Clip.”

“Hot.”

You shuffled aside to let the grumbly overheated demon past and left to the sound of the shower running. Water pattering turned to pan sizzling, your bedroom left behind for the smells of oil, sugar and blueberries in the kitchen. Some smears of batter decorated part of the opposite wall to the kitchen counter surface, which was covered in bowls both empty and partially full, and a bag of frozen blueberries that had been ripped open and left empty. The space around the stove was devoted entirely to Sun - bobbing around the frying pan, flipping pancakes onto the steadily growing pile next to him, slaloming around to grab the nearest bowl of batter and ladle the contents into the sizzling pan. Montague sat quietly nearby, his gaze fixed entirely on the animatronic’s hands and anything that could end up within his constantly moving reach. The smell of cooking batter, brown sugar, and caramelised fruit juice coated the dining table as you dropped into one of the available chairs. 

Mid-spin, Sun’s optics locked onto your face and his movement halted, although his head continued through several spins of momentum.

“Good morning, star! Breakfast will be ready soon. You should get a drink after last night,” he chirped away. You deigned not to argue this morning, instead sluggishly dragging yourself back out of your briefly acquired seat and pushing another bowl out of the sink so you could fill up a water glass. Leaning against the counter surface, you sipped your glass down, watching as Sun hummed and bounced his way through another two pancakes.

“...How many have you made?”

“Oh, I lost count after…six I think?”

“How much batter did you make?”

“Does it matter? Sometimes you measure with the heart!”

You glanced to the side. An empty box of waffle mix stuck out from the top of the freshly crammed trash can. Finishing your glass, you made a mental note to add this to your upcoming shopping list.

Two glasses of water down and you could see Eclipse peeking from your bedroom, face still scrunched up in a fatigued glower and curl of the teeth, but now with droplets of water clearly dripping onto the floor. They reached up a hand, waving it briefly at you, before ducking back out of view.

“Clip should be coming out soon,” you mentioned to Sun.

“Good timing, I think we’re all done here!” Sun glanced over the bowls, then picked up one, peered inside, and tipped the batter contents into the other bowl he was using. Maybe not done just yet.

Quietly you sat, thinking of city apartments with cramped kitchens, the frying pan sizzling away, a mug of coffee pressed into your hands and a friend leaning against your shoulder. It’d been too easy to abandon that routine, tucking your microwave and kettle into one corner of the kitchen here and leaving extra cupboards empty. In these mornings now though, as another glass of water was earnestly pressed into your hands and a heavy furry weight lay across your feet, you could ignore the sticky hot air and poor sleep and simply be.

Montague shifted abruptly against your leg, a low growl ebbing from his throat. Just as you were putting your water glass down and scooching your chair to move, there was a knock at the door. 

Dok-dok.

You stared in silence. The pan sizzled. Montague crouched close to the ground, hackles raised. Sun hesitated, the last dregs of batter frozen at the lip of his bowl. 

Dok-dok.

Your bedroom door was empty. Filling your lungs with a preparatory breath, you glanced to Montague and gestured to the emergency tools cupboard. He shook his head, but remained agitated. Lowering your hands down, you got up from your chair and padded across to the door. A cursory crack let in a stream of cooled forest air that sent the hair on your legs prickling.

“Hey! I’m glad I managed to catch you.”

A man stood a couple paces from the door, sun-freckled face held up by crow’s feet from years of smiles. He was certainly dressed appropriately for the terrain, complete with a camping kit hooked onto his bag. His attire was partially dirt smudged, his baggage was dulled by sun and rain. He looked like any other hiker enthusiast you’d run into, if not for the crossbow dangling off the side of his backpack.

Once you were primed by the one sign, the rest came into view easily. A thermos clasped on the leg. Small pouches clipped to the bag straps. A faint dent on the inside of the jacket that was too thin to be a torch. A lone tent peg that dangled from the backpack, only it wasn’t a tent peg, of course.

Mustering the best ‘so help me I just got out of bed’ smile you could, you raised a hand in greeting.

“Hi, hey. Yeah, I’m not on patrol for another hour but when I’m out here I’m always on the clock. Is there something the matter?”

“I’m just fine, myself,” the hunter replied, waving your concern off with a blase hand. “I was told by the park management that there’d been some strange occurrences happening out in this area, and that you were the ranger that patrolled this area in particular. I was wondering if you’d have any better insight of these events?”

Shit.

“Look, all kinds of strange stuff can happen out here, especially in summer. Mostly because people keep getting heat stroke or the heat messes with some of the radio signals,” you said with a shrug. “Any strange in particular?”

“People getting lost on trails? Signs sending people down the wrong way? Maybe reports of landmarks getting moved apparently?”

“Oh yeah, that’s the heat stroke. The number of times I’ve been called out because someone got lost on a popular trail and they’d actually blundered off elsewhere because they were exhausted and confused. There’s a reason we keep an ambulance on site nowadays.”

The hunter kept smiling, but the crow’s feet had fled. You were clearly not giving him the answers he wanted, and you were content with that.

“A lot of folks getting heat stroke, I guess. Maybe campers reporting strange sounds? Grinding sounds?”

He was digging in. But you were so good at deflecting that you were putting mirrors down for a challenge.

“Are you a Youtuber?” you asked, leaning against the door. “One of those guys that tracks down spooky things?” You had to avoid smugly grinning as the wave of discomfort washed over the hunter’s shoulders.

“Not like those guys, no. Well, thank you for the help you could give. I’ll be around for a week so if you hear of anything else strange, come give me a call. Or a knock,” he commented.

“You on the campervan site?”

“That’s right. Airstream Basecamp, with a woodlands decal. Can’t miss it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And uh - “ You sharply nodded your head upward, gesturing to his bag. “You be careful hunting. We’re off-season, so you’ll need to make sure your licence from management is to hand.”

“Licence? Oh, of course!” The hunter patted one of his trouser pockets. “No worries there.” He was backing away. You stayed leaning against the doorframe, all too aware of Montague having nosed his way out from behind you and watching the man intently. One more hand wave, one more friendly goodbye smile, and then the hunter turned his back on you to vanish into the woods around.

Your breath wheezed out your nose as you closed the cabin door. Montague butted at your legs, whining up a storm, and you quickly crouched to bury your fingers into his ruff.

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” you murmured. “He’s gone, he’s not going to bother us any further-”

KA-BANG

The floor shuddered from an impact sound. Feet skidded on the wood as you bolted upright, abandoning the empty kitchen and burnt final pancake to instead haul into the workshop room.

Curled up and over and hunched against the cabin ceiling, Eclipse’s core eyes were furious pools of shadow, burning amber pinpricks barely visible under the surface. All four eyes glared past the open doorway you occupied, over Sun’s head as the animatronic continued to brace his body against Eclipse’s chest. His jester feet struggled to maintain a grip - already one chair laid out on the floor near to the pair.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sunshine will deal with it,” Sun continued to murmur as a low hiss bubbled up from Eclipse’s throat. Their mouth split wide, baring his teeth.

You ran to them, under Sun’s arm and burying yourself in their feathers. Reaching up you cupped their cheeks, drawing their attention down towards you, just you.

“Hey, hey,” you whispered, the same tone you’d use when you found an injured fox or deer. “Look at me, big guy. Look down, look at my face, okay.”

Eclipse tore his gaze away from the unseen foe outside the cabin, rattling growls gurgling up his chest. You could feel his teeth grazing the top of your head, the shift of his chest forward as he continued to bend inwards.

“I can smell them,” he snarled. “The hunter.”

“He’s not coming here, he’s going away,” you whispered, digging your fingers into their feathers.

“Threat, pain, hunter. Would kill me, kill Montague, kill you.” You looked up slowly, in time for hot breath to scatter the hairs from your face, their four shimmering pupils scalding your retinas.

“No, no, it’s okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you.” Gentle touches pulled on their face, taking a step back. Urging him to continue folding down, crouching into the floor, always trying to keep himself in your palms. Another guttural snarl was his response.

Bit by bit, Eclipse sank down. You slowly collapsed yourself too, down to a squat then letting your knees drop to the floor. He followed, of course.

“No-one’s going to come and hurt any of us,” you whispered. It was easy to find your perch, the curve of their leg that dipped towards the hips, and you nestled your way up. No sooner had you done so, then hands made their way around you, arms wrapping tight and pulling you even closer.

Eclipse’s snarls and growls ebbed, leaving the bare warning rumbles of a departing thunderstorm. Their eyes closed, just a little. Their head rested on top of yours.

Birdsong began to echo in the cabin once more. Your fingers tallied tracks through meadows of purple, and Eclipse’s claws made soft furrows through your hair.

“If he comes back, I will defend us,” Eclipse warned, soft but undeniable of his intention.

“I don’t doubt you will,” you agreed.

It took another minute for the pair of you to untether, and for you to immediately receive Montague’s muzzle burying into your stomach. Smiling gently, you ran your hand over his head, holding him close with your other arm.

“Will he come back?” Sun asked, crouching down to join you all on the floor.

“He shouldn’t,” you said. “I bullshitted about the licence. All I need to do is call Anthony and tell him there’s a poacher going around my area with a crossbow, and he’ll deal with that.”

“But what about the cryptid he’s hunting?” Montague asked. “Something has clearly caused enough issue for hunters to come out here.”

“It’s not the first time something’s caused a stir, just one of the rare times that stir has led to one of them turning up on our doorstep,” you replied. “Problem is, I might have been too right. This cryptid’s been fucking around with hikers during peak summer heat. It’ll be hard to get a bead on where it is or what it might be.”

Eclipse’s hand settled on your shoulder. Montague pushed himself further up onto your lap, nuzzling at your cheek.

“That’s okay,” he said. “We’ll figure it out, same way as always. We protect these woods, we’ll keep them safe from anything.”

“Including the hunters,” you agreed, reaching up once more to cup Eclipse’s cheek, feeling them lean into it as if your touch would mould them.

“Guardian angel.”

[stardust-swan]

How to Fly Like a Hollywood Star - Part 3: On the Plane

[Part 1: Packing] [Part 2: Before the Airport and at the Airport]

🛩 Food can be expensive on planes so bring something to eat, like a mozarella and sun-dried tomato sandwich on olive bread, some almonds, a fresh fruit, or even a whole bento box. Herbal teabags are also a good idea, just ask the cabin crew for a cup of hot water. Peppermint (to stay awake), chamomile (to make you feel calm), and ginger (for nausea) are all perfect.

🛩 Neck pillows work wonders for international flights (bring a pillow case from home to go over said pillow. Keep it in your bag until the flight to stop it from getting gross). Eyemasks and ear plugs/noise cancelling headphones are a good idea too.

🛩 Bring a cashmere wrap, or small cashmere blanket on board. Audrey Hepburn always had one throughout the years to keep her comfy on film sets and planes.

🛩 Try to pee before getting on the plane

🛩 Drink lots of water and bring a lip balm, small moisturiser, or even a couple of sheet masks, as the cabin air is quite dry. Food and drink high in electrolytes, such as nuts, tomato juice, sunflower and pumpkin seeds, coconut water, and sports drinks like Gatorade and Powerade also help combat dehydration. You can bring electrolyte tablets instead if you want.

🛩 Compression socks can help prevent your legs swelling and bruising.

🛩 Pay attention to the safety demonstration, and know how many rows away your seat is from the nearest exit (which may be behind or before you).

🛩 Download the Timeshifter app (for Apple and Android) to help combat jet lag. I can't recommend it enough.

🛩 If you choose to drink alcohol, remember that one drink on the ground is two in the sky. You will feel the alcohol a lot more when flying due to the altitude and cabin pressure.

🛩 Pass the time by reading a book with beautiful prose or listening to some relaxing music (Part 2 has links to sites you can use to download literature and music).

🛩 When you start the climb to cruising altitude, chew some gum to stop you ears popping. Pinching your nose shut and trying very hard to breathe out of your nose helps alleviate ear pressure/pain.

🛩 Bring hand sanitiser or antibacterial wipes if the airline allows them (Naomi Campbell is in the habit of disinfecting her entire seat!)

🛩 Turbulence is normal and has never crashed a plane. If you get nervous, close your eyes and pretend you're on a bus/car. It will feel like you're just driving over a bumpy road.

🛩 Be nice to airline and airport employees. Even if things are going wrong, it’s usually not their fault. Being nice can get you better service sometimes (meal vouchers during delays, better seats, an earlier flight, etc.).

🛩 If you're travelling alone, and planning to sleep on your flight, ask the ticket counter when you check in if you can be put in an empty row. When you get to the gate, ask if the row is still empty, and if it's not, to be moved to an empty row. Take some melatonin and a night time ibuprofen after your meal, lay across the row, and get some sleep.

🛩 Don't sleep with your legs crossed.

🛩 Changing into pyjamas on a night time flight will make the flight comfier, and you'll feel refreshed when you change back into your street clothes.

🛩 Meditate. Or close your eyes and just breathe. Take advantage of the fact that you are miles away from your everyday life, and no one can find you.

🛩 When flying private, act casual. Asking where the flight is departing from is acceptable. Asking "Wow! Is this yours?" is not.

🛩 And most importantly, enjoy your trip!

[maracujatangerine]

Ohhhh, for the ask game I'd like to suggest a Special Treat of their choice for Brutus please. :D

72. A well-earned reward

CW: aftermath of violence, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

Master unclipped the hook from the metal ring on the guard dog’s black collar. He was beaming.

“Good job, boy!”

Wayland Jones even clapped the muscular pet on the shoulder, before Brutus obediently stepped into the cage.

“Thank you, Master!” The wave of pride and joy that rose within him was almost enough to wash away the pain from countless cuts and bruises. “I live to serve.”

“And serve well you did! You winning today gave me quite a tidy sum.” With a flourish, he handed over a white paper bag. “Don’t say that I’m not grateful. I brought you your favourite treat.”

“Thank you, thank you so much, Master.”

The door to the cage clanged shut and Wayland closed the padlock with a sharp click. He turned away, humming to himself as he was walking down the row of cages, like cells or storage compartments with concrete floors, each floor-to-ceiling space divided by wooden supports and chicken wire. As it was still early in the evening, the other cages were empty.

Brutus stood to attention, respectfully keeping his gaze on his Master through all the chicken wire until Wayland Jones passed out of view.

Not until then did he allow himself to gingerly sit down on the bare concrete floor. Master would be gone for many hours, drinking and gambling and celebrating his victory.

Brutus turned his mind away from the unpleasant feeling of sweat and crusted blood drying on his skin. He was still fortunate. Each cage had chains bolted to the floor for more unruly fighters, but Master had not decided to use them for his pet.

With eager anticipation, Brutus pulled out a white styrofoam box from the bag. His Master had been generous, there was a bottle of water in the bag too, but the fighter’s attention was rapt as he opened the box.

Oh, joy of joys. The feast inside exceeded even his most extravagant hopes. A fluffy bubble waffle, filled with fruit salad with strawberries, banana, chunks of apple and pear, rich vanilla and chocolate ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce drizzled on top.

Ignoring the sharp iron smell of the blood on his hands, Brutus immersed himself in enjoying the waffle. The perfect balance between crispiness and a soft interior waffle, fresh fruit, the refreshing cool of the ice cream and the intense sweetness of the chocolate sauce. It was heaven.

As Brutus was eating, footsteps approached.

“You should be grateful I dragged your fleabag ass to the vet.” A man‘s angry voice. “A dislocated shoulder is no excuse for losing like that. No reward for you tonight, Jazz.”

The owner unceremoniously unclipped the blonde guard dog’s leash and clanged the door shut. After making sure the padlock held, he walked away without a backwards glance.

Brutus’ opponent gave him a resentful side eye and sat down at the far end of his cage, curling himself protectively around his right arm bound up in a sling.

Brutus watched him from the corner of his eye. It had been a fair fight, one could almost say it had been a good fight. He and Jazz were evenly matched. There had been some extra skill, Brutus prided himself, but he had to admit that it was mostly luck calling the shots of the outcome tonight.

Thoughtfully, the guard dog tore off a piece of the remaining waffle. It was not the best piece, not the soft middle part drenched in melting ice cream, but still a hefty chunk with a good amount of chocolate sauce and a few pieces of fruit on it.

He took it gingerly between a thumb and index finger, careful to not get too much of the crusted blood on the food. Then, he reached out towards the fence between them.

“Do you want a piece?”

The other fighter watched him warily, but gave him a curt nod. Slowly, with his blue eyes on Brutus’ face, he approached the barrier.

Jazz grabbed the proffered food quickly, as if he had expected it to be snatched away at the last moment. Then, he sat down, wincing, and took a bite of the treat.

“Thank you.”

They ate the remaining pieces of the waffle in silence, side by side in their cages.

*

Thank you for this intriguing ask @shiningstarofwinter 💖 I hope you’ll enjoy it. ☺️

Fun facts

Bubble waffles (gai daan jai) are originally from Hong Kong and were invented in the 1950’s. It was most likely a way for businesses to use unsold eggs and flour.

In the beginning, people usually couldn’t afford a whole waffle. Instead, larger waffles were made and sold so that one would just buy one bubble as a snack.

Bubble waffles were seen as healthy and nutritious. (If you have problems with affording enough calories, a waffle stuffed with eggs is a pretty good choice.)

Bubble waffles were traditionally sold plain, but now they are eaten with all sorts of fillings and often used as an ice cream cone.

Do you have more fun facts about bubble waffles? Have you tried them, and if so, what did you think?

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning