#got sandwiched 🥪

[kyouzen]

Redraw

[iwrotemrtambourineman]

tuna sandwich for dinner 🐟

[serious-goose]

sometimes life is hard but then sometimes you have a big sandwich,, and it's not so bad for like idk forty five minutes

[keitorin3]

Short: It's Merlin

Random Knight: *Witnessed Merlin calling Arthur a prat* Sire, are you just going to just let him talk to you that way? 😤

Arthur: It's Merlin, what can you do. 🤷🏼

Noble: *Upset with Merlin's presence during court and used his now absences to complain* As King you should have more sense then to let some farm boy advise you in such delicate matters of court! 😤

Arthur: It's Merlin. He who takes care of the castle servants, who is the apprentice physician that sees to the people downtown off duty and who is well acquainted with the merchants by name. That Merlin. 🤨

Noble: ...

Arthur: Any other questions? Good, let's see about lunch. Someone call Merlin back from town, he knows how I like my sandwiches made. 🍞🥪

Princess: *Trying to be seductive and pretty* I hear your looking for a Queen? 😉

Arthur: *Not interested and wishing to strangle a court elder* Apparently... 😒

Princess: I could be your Queen~ *Tries to touch his arms sensually*😘👑

Arthur: *Disgusted and Panics* 😬 Sadly you don't meet my requirements.

Princess: Well, what are your requirements? I'm sure I can more then meet them~😘

Arthur: Black hair, large ears, calls me a prat and male.

Princess: *Flabbergasted*

Arthur: *runs*

Knight on the side: It's Merlin. Just so you know.

Gwaine: So is anyone gonna tell him or should I?

Leon: It's been over a Decade and sadly the King has yet to admit it.

Percival: It's just Merlin. The guy doesn't even hides how devoted he is to Arthur.

Leon: Unfortunate really. Arthur was never able to place a label on what he felt for Merlin. Anything that boy does is instantly just categorised as "Merlin".

Gwaine: He gets his own category? Where do we go under.

Leon: "Merlin's Knights" apparently. He said as much while drunk and wistfully talked about retiring into the countryside and buy a farm where he and Merlin can own a cow and some chickens. He especially wanted the chickens.

Gwaine: *Laughs*

Percival: Damn, he's got it bad. And I can't even deny it. We basically did come together thanks to Merlin. But why chickens?

Leon: Said it was a engagement present for Merlin.

Percival: ...

Gwaine: ... Called it.

Knight: *Sees magic near Merlin* Sorcerer! *Arrests him and goes to the King*

Arthur: What is this?

Knight: Sire! I witnessed this servant doing Sorcery! *Points to Merlin*

Arthur: It's Merlin.

Knight: Yes Sire. He was doing magic.

Merlin: Arthur I can explain-

Arthur: *Raises his hand up to pause his words* You sure of this?

Knight: *Says smugly* Yes Sire!

Arthur: Right then. *Proceeds to go to his desk and picks up something before signing them with his seal*

Arthur: Hand this to Geoffrey, from henceforth the Magic Ban has been lifted.

Knight: WHAT!? 😱

Merlin: WHAT!? 🤯

Knight: B-but- my King?! WHY!?

Arthur: *Casually shrugs* It's Merlin.

[anniflamma]

Got bribed by @faith-orise & @dilutedh2so4 Here for all who asked for a sandwich! 🥪 Just eat it! I DONT WANT TO LOOK AT IT. I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN

[godbirdart]

got any sandwiches for us? 🥪

🐉 @viperderg

🐀 @godbirdart

📸 micohone

📍 eurofurence 2024

[steviewashere]

Deserving

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Unspecified Eating Disorder, Food Insecurity Tags: Post-Season 2, Pre-Season 3, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Different First Meeting AU, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Worried Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Self Esteem Issues, Insecure Steve Harrington, Lonely Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Strangers to Friends, Sharing Food, Food as a Metaphor For Love, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has Rich Parents, He is Not Rich, Dialogue Heavy Originally, this was going to be 5+1 where Eddie shares his food five times and once where Steve shares his food, but I just couldn't finish the original plot.

🥪——————🥪 There’s a boy in Eddie’s lunch period that doesn’t have anything to eat. It’s weird because he knows who this kid is; Steve Harrington—cocky and rich and bitch with no bite—the kid who’s fallen from grace thanks to a few punches to the face. And the same kid who doesn’t really talk to anybody.

As it is, Steve is sitting by himself at one of the lunchroom tables. Arms crossed on the surface, head down on his forearms, hair limp at the crown of his head. Unusual and unseen. His shoulders are hitched, shaking like he’s crying unsubtly, yet quietly—unseen and unheard. It’s weird, he thinks, because Steve had just been looking out one of the windows, eyes a little hazy, glazed like he’d been gearing up to cry. Eddie had caught Steve pushing his hands into his hair, tugging like he was trying to rip it all out. But then he’d gone ahead and collapsed into this sad, huffing little heap onto the table.

Eddie maybe keeps his eye on Steve for too long, too often. To know the multitudes. The little fractures in his mask—spider webs, that’s what they were, spreading and sprawling. He supposed that, at some point, the web would be completed and be easy enough to knock down. Leaving in its wake a sad, mole-dotted, half-bruised, white-scarred face.

A face with a hungry maw, if the way Steve clutched his stomach said anything.

He makes a last minute decision today. Eddie curves his path away from the Hellfire Club’s table. Lunchbox dangling in his hand—a measly bologna and mustard sandwich, a baggie of salted pretzel sticks, and a Yoo-hoo he didn’t need to refrigerate all clinking against the metal interior. And then he plops himself down in front of Steve without a peep, just the hard clink of his wallet chain on the bench and his too big rings on the table.

All at once, slow, yet purposeful—Steve’s head springs up. He looks worse up close. Mottled purple. Swollen and shiny. There’s one of those terrible scars on the edge of his hairline, though this one’s different: pink, long, jagged, and fresh.

Steve squints at him. Covers the side of his face by the window, hand cupped around his one good eye, and swallows hard enough Eddie almost recoils. “Munson?” Steve croaks—literally, Eddie notes, like a strangled, old frog—“what’re you doing?”

“Mm, having lunch with my pal,” Eddie answers, prying open his lunchpail, food pulled out one thing at a time. He catches his thumbs in the Ziplock fasten, and from it produces that sad, drooping sandwich his uncle made last night. It’s a little soggy in his hands, too much mustard. And the bologna is sort of…lukewarm, but not inedible. Eddie digs around in one of his vest pockets, pulls out a small Swiss Army knife, and cuts the sandwich in half. Licks the blade, mustard just a little left of what’s meant to be tastefully sour. Then, he pushes a portion of the sandwich across the table to sit right in front of Steve. “Usually, I’d bring a lunch of your preference, but this is all I’ve got right now. So, hope you don’t mind some bologna.”

“I don’t wanna take your food away from you, man. I’ll be fine until I get home.”

Selfless is a trait he didn’t think Steve could really have. Well, from the assumed version he has in his head anyway. But it’s a trait he’s learning he probably won’t like. Not all the way, at least.

“Right,” Eddie murmurs, “and you clutching your stomach out of hunger seems like something to be fine about.” He picks up his half and takes a large bite, licks the bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth. With his mouth full, “It’s weird, y’know, I never see you in here with food. Not even lunch lady Donna’s mashed potatoes and gravy. If you wanna know my opinion, that’s one of the better lunches she makes, and it’s something anybody should try at least once.” He wrestles around in his lunchbox again, a glass bottle of Yoo-hoo now in his grip. The cap pops off satisfyingly and he takes a small swig, swallows the incredible glob in his mouth, and then offers the drink across the table. “Or, y’know, I thought maybe a rich kid would have their own lunch. With all of the good brand stuff. Like uh…Pringles? Yeah, Pringles and Coke? That seems like your game.”

Steve sniffs, looks down at his sandwich, and picks it up gingerly. He keeps staring at it, though. Not out of thought, like maybe he’s wondering if he should give it back. Something more…somber. “Correction,” he mutters, “I have rich parents. I’m just the kid they let live in their house.” Finally, he takes a bite with a gentle, low hum. As if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. Which can’t possibly be true because, even though Eddie knows this meal is one of Wayne’s specialties, it’s honestly one of the shittier ones. If anything, this sandwich is just placeholder food—something that’ll get them by until Wayne gets paid next, if he gets paid on time.

Eddie hums, taking in the information. “They can’t even bother to send you on with at least a little something? Dude, tell me you at least get some breakfast. You’re breakin’ my heart over here.”

Again, Steve looks at his sandwich. Somber and small. He won’t look at Eddie, though. But Eddie can see him. His flushed cheeks—blotchy and tear track stained. Red rimmed eyes. Shaky fingers. He’s pale underneath the ruddiness. Lips chapped, eyes sunken, dark circles.

He looks like shit.

“Sometimes,” Steve murmurs, “I used to have a bagel in the morning, but my mom said the carbs were bad. I stopped buying them. So…I dunno. It’s not like she even”—He stops. Shakes his head. Takes another bite.

“She even…?”

Steve catches his eyes for all of a second. Places his sandwich on the baggie it came in. Wipes his cheeks, just barely missing some of the bruising. “She’s not even home most of the time anyway. It doesn’t really matter,” he states quiet and bitter. He clears his throat, the sound strained. Shrugs. Rests his face in one hand, looking out the window again. Face going pinched and pained. “You ever had a fend for yourself kind of day?”

“Eh…I’ve had fend for yourself nights. But that’s because my uncle works late, sometimes it’s just up to me to figure something out. Those are cereal nights, man.” He watches Steve again. At the way he doesn’t go back for the sandwich. Not even disgusted. Just…blank. “Was today one of those, Steve?” he asks quietly.

No verbal answer. Just one, small, shaky nod. Eddie won’t stand for that.

“What food do you like? Maybe I can help you come up with like a…a meal plan calendar or something. So that you know what you have at all times and you can, like, make sure you’re eating good.” Steve still doesn’t say anything. Lips rolled tight to his teeth. Eddie tries again, “Or at least just eating, Stevie. I know we don’t really know each other at all, but I see you in here everyday. No lunch. Not even one of those stupid boxes of raisins. You gotta eat, man. Or else, y’know, that shit catches up to you.”

Across from him, Steve sniffles again and wipes the back of his hand on his nose. “I don’t know what I like,” he says, “sandwiches are fine, I guess. It’s fine”—

“Good, great actually. Steve Harrington is getting a tour of the Munson sandwich recipes. Passed down from my uncle, the master of sandwich art. Y’like black forest ham? Maybe a bit of grilled chicken? Tomatoes?” Steve’s finally staring at him now. Wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Mouth dropped ajar with slight disbelief. “What?” Eddie says, “don’t look at me like that. We don’t have to be friends or anything, but you gotta eat. It’s equity, dude. I already got what I need in terms of food and eating, but you don’t. So, I getcha what you need. I help you out.”

Steve droops, breathes out a little sigh. Digs his thumbnail into the stale crust of the sandwich, picking at it, crumbling it onto the table. “You don’t have to do that, Eddie,” he speaks quietly, “I…uh…I don’t want to assume anything, but I don’t think it’s fair that somebody who makes less money than my whole family has to make up for my parents’ stupidity. It’s not your job to look out for somebody like me anyway, right? Just another screw up who can’t get his shit together, can’t even figure out how he’s going to pay for worthwhile groceries for the month.” He finally stops picking at the sandwich. Wipes his nose again. “Thanks for trying, though. I’m sorry that you have to care at all.”

Eddie eyes Steve for a silent beat. And then, with careful, languid movements, he lays his hand palm up on the table. Steve looks to it, but pretends to pay it no mind. Even if his face crumbles a bit more. “Steve,” Eddie speaks, keeping his voice measured and low, “I want to help. I—I know that my uncle and I don’t make a lot. And, sure, maybe figuring out a way to get you some good homecooked meals is a little out of my budget. But I don’t care. You deserve to eat, man. No matter how much money your parents make.

“If I can make your day a little easier—because, I gotta be honest, it seems like you’re just having…the toughest time a person can ever possibly have—then great. If it means me giving you a dollar for the school lunch or just coming here with an extra sandwich in my lunchbox, whatever.

“Nobody deserves to go without eating because their bullshit parents prioritize work and social lives over their own children—and no child deserves to believe they’re the problem. Let me help, okay? Even if we have to start out small, so be it.” Eddie takes a moment to pause, to breathe, to let the cafeteria background noise mingle around them. He crinkles the edge of the Ziplock baggie, pushes it further into Steve’s space, and does the same with the bag of pretzel sticks. “I want to take care of you. Even if we’re just strangers in the hallway, I want to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

He does his best to lean across the way, to block off the rest of the cafeteria from their table. As Steve lays his shaky hands flat on the surface and his face turns bright red, tears steadily streaming down his face. Eddie digs the bandana out of his back pocket and slides it across the table, too, offering it up in silence.

Steve takes it with a shaky hand and pats the tired fabric on his tacky skin. He blows a sharp, wheezing, snotty breath from his nose. “If you’re sure, then I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a lot. But I…I wanna make sure I can pay you back, okay? Don’t wanna—I don’t wanna like abuse your generosity or something.”

“You wouldn’t be,” he quickly amends. “I’m offering, man, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but I…I don’t think you understand,” Steve adamantly presses, “I know it’s gonna make me sound all whiny and like uptight or whatever, but I don’t earn an allowance from my parents anymore. Not since…well, I’m sure you know how stupid I am.”

“Hey,” Eddie gently scolds. “You’re not stupid, Steve. You know what you’re talking about, I’ve heard you.”

Steve snorts like Eddie said something funny. “Try telling that to all my college rejection letters and my dad’s crumbling expectations of his only son. I’m sure they could find a million ways to explain just how…how worthless I am. That I’m a burden or…or a stain.”—those last sentences sound like echoes, if Eddie cares to explore it enough. Like they come from a different, more expectant mouth. Steve continues, “How am I even supposed to get a mediocre job? Just feels like I’m too nothing for anything out there. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay you back, Eddie. Shit, I just shouldn’t accept. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get back up from all this garbage—I—I’m such a fucking loser now. I don’t even have anything going on anymore.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, not sure which part of any of that to unpack. Instead, he goes with, “You’ve got sports, Stevie. Surely you can figure something out with that. I’ve seen you perform, man, you’re fucking phenomenal.”

“My brain’s too fucked up now to play,” Steve quietly admits, “too many concussions. Coaches say I’m too befuddled to make heads or tails of where my targets are. Sports are over for me. I literally have nothing.” He blows out another wet, shaky breath. “So, I’m just saying, I’m sorry if I can’t make this up to you.”

“Steve,” Eddie says firmly, “look at me.”

At the demand, he’s met with Steve’s sad, hazel eyes. Clogged with discontent and miserableness he never thought he’d see out of a guy like Steve. Every part of him wants to reach out, cradle Steve’s face in his hands, wipe away his tears, caress his injuries with a tenderness he’s sure Steve has long forgotten. A part of him wants to hold Steve forever, no sign of letting go. 

Heart in his stomach, shattered yet beating, he speaks as softly as he possibly can manage. “You owe me nothing, Steve. You don’t owe me your best. You don’t owe me your money. You don’t owe me payback or…or a job on your back. There’s nothing that I want from you, I promise. But if you want to give me something…how about just being my friend, huh? Just sit down with me at lunch, share the food I brought, give me as much of a conversation as you want, and just…just let yourself be cared about.

“That’s what I’ll ask of you. If you feel the need to give me something, give me friendship. That’s it. Nothing more than that. Anything else that arises in the future, we worry about then. Bridges waiting to be crossed later, y’know? That’s doable, right? Just being a friend.”

Steve nods in slow understanding. “You wanna be friends with me?” He asks in a whisper. “You know that I’m not the best company, right? I’m…I’m stubborn and I’m bitchy and I—I know sometimes that I don’t use my brain half the time and I just say shit before I really think about it. And I…I’ve been a jerk and I’m—I’m sort of bullshit, Eddie. Is that really something you want in your life?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “You think I don’t have my own flaws? Everybody’s got shit. All of us have baggage. You’re just a teenager, as am I, and we’re still figuring shit out. At least you’re aware, right? Means you can try and…and be more thoughtful about what you do, how you act. And, besides, stop giving me reasons to leave you alone. I want to be your friend. I’ll say it from here to fucking Mars, man.” He raps his fingers against the table, darts his eyes to that sandwich. There’s not really a good way to keep drilling the want of it all into Steve’s head. So, finally, he relents. Gives Steve the step away that he wants. “Go ahead and eat, Steve. I’ll bring you a PB&J tomorrow, yeah? You like grape or strawberry jelly?”

A lapse of silence. Wherein they stare at each other. Two things work their way onto Steve’s face. Adamant protests that, in turn, are squashed and cornered into becoming stubborn acceptance. Jeez, Eddie can’t help but think, what’s it gonna take to get this guy to realize that people can care about him?

“Mm…strawberry, please,” Steve finally decides.

He simply nods. Looks out the window to the courtyard. Cafeteria white noise and Steve’s soft chewing surrounding him. The light hits him just as a cloud begins to move, yellow sunlight, warm and new. It marks the beginning of something unexpected, good, Eddie believes. “I think you’re a good guy, by the way,” he murmurs, “you probably don’t believe me now, but you will one day. Swear on it.”

🥪——————🥪

[chillycooper]

Taggie usually: 😇

Taggie with Rupert: you’re disgusting 🤢 and I want nothing 🚫 to do with you ☝️ maybe im fed up 😒 with sitting around waiting 🕰️ for my life 😛 to happen 😠🙄 making sandwiches 🥪 for everybody else 😞 do you really think 🤔 you can trust her 👀🤨 what if 😢 no one 💔 ever loves me ⁉️ no one 🙃 ever buys me gifts 🎁 like this🥚🙂 it’s beautiful 🤭💕well then ⚠️ STOP 🚷 doing things you need to be sorry for 😤🚪💥😠 😡 i asked for your help 🆘 and you got him drunk 🥃🥴 and let him implode 🤯 on live television 📺 🤫 if THATS 🤬 what’s needed 😑🔪 he’s lovely 😊 only he’s not you 😈

[spotsandsocks]

Ask Away - last edition

I’m bored so I’m sending an ask game out into the world to see what happens… if anyone want to distract me with random asks anon or not send me an emoji and I’ll tell you about it. Feel free to reblog and tag your beloved mutuals 💕

🏨Last thing you broke

🛍️ Last thing you bought you didn’t really need

😍Last time you said I love you

🖥️Last thing you googled

🍕Last thing you ate you didn’t have to cook yourself

🍿Last film you saw in the cinema/theatre

📺 Last tv series you binged

😴Last time you overslept

🍹Last time you got drunk

💋Last time you kissed someone

🌊 last time you saw the sea

✈️ last vacation you took

📱last conversation you had on the phone

💬 last text message you sent

📧 last email you sent

🥳 last social event you went to

😭last time you cried

🤬last time you swore in anger

🧐last time had an interview

💟 last time you shared a bed

🎁 last gift you bought

💝Last gift you were given

🐲 last tattoo

🍄last time you got high

⛄️last time it snowed where you live

🥪last sandwich you ate

☕️last coffee order

⚽️ last time you played sport

🥇last time you won something

🎨like thing you created

🚲last time you rode a bike

🎢last thrill ride you went on

💰last thing you bought

⚔️last fight you had

🦠last time you were sick

�� last soft plushie your hugged

💇🏽last hair cut

✍️last thing you wrote with a pen

🔐last secret you broke

💔last heart you broke

🩸last time you hurt yourself

🧯last brave thing you did

🎮last game you played

🌅last time you stayed up all night

[vanillablankcanvas]

Favorite food? and least favorite food

John Dory - Troll equivalent of beef jerky. Bug jerky? Yeah let's go with that. 😏 Snail jerky, cricket jerky, worm jerky! And steak! 🥩 Hates mushrooms! 🍄 There was a time when it was all he could find when foraging! Yes it kept him alive, but it was disgusting!

Bruce - absolutely LOATHES eggs🥚At one point when he was younger, to keep up his physique he would eat only boiled eggs for days at a time. He quickly got sick of them! His favourite food now is fried chicken wings 🍗. Yaaaasss!

Clay - Clay likes sandwiches. 🥪 They are efficient! They can be custom made to whatever he is craving or whatever is he has available. They are quick and easy to make and he can pack one to eat later. At the Hole n Fun, sunflower seeds were a staple. They could make them into flour, then into bread. Clay hates sea food. Can't stand the smell of it! He tolerates it the best he can when visiting Bruce, but if he can avoid it, he will! 🐟

Floyd - he likes a specific dish that's made by the Hard Rock Trolls. It's a very spicy pizza-like meal from a restaurant called 'Upper Crust'. 🍕 He has tried to recreate it but it never quite tastes the same. Cannot stand the taste of olives. 🫒 He will sit there and pick every last one of them them out of a dish before he can eat it.

Branch - If you ask him he will say his favourite food is he will say potatoes. 🥔 They can become many different meals, he can store heaps of them and regrow them from cuttings. Buuuuut secretly his favourite food is his Grandma's Fluffleberry Cake. 🍰 He likes sugar like any other Troll but he can't tolerate OVERLY sugary things e.g. candy floss, meringue. Too much of it reminds him off the taste of Ring Pops and it makes him sick.

Fun fact - All of the brothers like the taste of coriander/cilantro. To Poppy and Viva it tastes like soap. 🫧

[nomizombie]

Picnic with boyfriend!König x GN!reader ... 🥪🌿🌻

[SFW/Fluff/Wholesome] ; a little hiking, piggy back rides! making flower crowns!! picnic obviously, sandwiches because they are my favourite food, krapfen because i love fruit jam!!!! gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n :>

[A/N] ; once again another tiktok inspired me

“König..? How much longer?” You croaked from behind him. The two of you had been climbing a hiking trail for the last half an hour. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Just a little longer!” He called out in front in that familiar accent you'd grown to love.

“I really don't think I can go any further..” you stopped, panting as you watched your boyfriend saunter ahead of you, carrying a basket full of baked goodies and tupperware sandwiches.

He turned back when he realised he could no longer hear the crunching of leaves and sticks behind him.

“Schatz..? It's only a little farther… Come on.” he walked up to you, bending down to look at your face.

You shook your head, still a panting mess.

“Ah…” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought for a moment before an idea struck him. He dropped the basket down onto the dirt.

“Oh! Schatzi. Idea. Climb onto my back.” He grinned at you wildly.

“Climb... your back?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just do it!” He nudged you, turning around and kneeling so you could reach.

“Are you sure? I must be heavy I mean…”

“Oh don't say such nonsense! Hop on, ja?” He tapped his back.

You contemplated for a moment.

“Come on, I'm double your size. You're like an ant to me.” He said, reassuring you.

That sure helps.

“Wow. Gee, thanks.” You spoke flatly before placing your hands on his shoulders and hoisting yourself onto him. Once you were comfortable, he straightened his legs, raising you up in the air.

“Holy shit-“ is this how he saw the world every day? No wonder he walks over you so often.

“Like the view?” He smirked at you before picking the basket back up.

“Youre like… a total giraffe!” You laughed. Your feet dangled off the ground, resting by the sides of his hips.

“Ready?”

You happily hummed in response.

He chuckled and continued up the trail. It was only a few more minutes before you and him finally came upon a breezy grass clearing.

“Oh my god, its... breathtaking.” You beamed, feet finally touching on the soft lush grass.

He smiled at you before unpacking your little woven picnic basket.

“I made some Austrian goodies — and sandwiches of course, since you like them so much.” He spoke, muttering the last part quickly.

He laid down the blanket, a soft red and white checkered blanket with flower accents. Then, he retrieved an assortment of utensils and cutlery, white porcelain bowls and plates, and lastly but not least, a tupperware stack of your favourite triangle-sliced sandwiches.

“You must wait for the Austrian goodies. I want to save them for last.” He flashed a boyish smile at you before handing you a bottle of his favourite sparkling water.

You took a sip, letting the bubbles sit on your tongue as you took a long inhale of the spring air. Nothing could be better.

You picked at the grass, plucking a couple of daisies from where you were sitting.

"Say, König, have you ever made flower crowns?" You asked him, rolling the stems in between your fingers.

"Flower crowns? Nein.."

"Really?!" You stared at him widely, "Never?" You asked again.

"Never...?" He said, a little confused.

"Oh. My. God! I'll make you one this instant!"

You got to work immediately, carefully threading the daisies through each other until you had a sizable loop. One that you know would fit the massive skull of your boyfriend.

"Here. Try this one." You beamed at him, passing the crown into his hands.

He carefully placed it on his head until it fit snugly against his fluffy hair.

"Ta...da?" He smiled awkwardly at you.

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating.

"You look so adorable!" If only you could take a picture right now.

"I wish I could save this forever." You sighed. König hated taking pictures. He would absolutely smash a phone into pieces (and has) if someone refused to delete candid photos.

"Like a photo?"

"Yeah. It's alright though! I know you don't like them..."

He grinned at you.

"I think I can make an exception for you." He reached into his backpack, pulling out an old polaroid camera.

"This one is too blurry to have any good photos." He explained.

"You're really letting me...?" You asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

"Ja. Go ahead."

Your hand immediately shot for his, yoinking the camera.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" You hugged him tightly. Finally, a photo of your boyfriend, even if it would be hardly intelligible, you'd take what you can get.

You raised the camera up, making sure every centimeter of his familiar face was in frame.

"Ready? 3, 2, 1, cheese!" The camera clicked, whirred for a few seconds before spitting out a small black polaroid.

You eagerly pulled it, shaking it as quick as you could. The picture came out blurry and grainy, but you could make out his crooked smile and squinty eyes just fine.

He laughed at your eagerness.

"You wanted photos of me that bad?"

"You think I didn't? I can't get enough of your smile." You grinned.

Pink bloomed on his cheeks at your words.

"Is that so..." He averted his gaze, embarrassed and red. You giggled at his response. How boyish.

Before long, the two of you finished the sandwiches.

"Close your eyes!" He chuckled, waiting for you to cover your face with your hands.

Then, he slowly revealed the plastic box, popping the lid off and cutting you a slice.

"Okay... now... open!"

Your eyes blinked back open. You looked at him before your gaze slowly trailed down to the warm, sweet-smelling dessert in front of you.

"I made Krapfen." He explained meekly.

"Oh my! König! You baked this?" Your eyes widened, taking in the plate of assorted powdered treats.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well... I did with my Oma, but ja..."

You rushed to take a bite, picking one up and eagerly digging in.

He covered his face with his hands, staring at you through his fingers, waiting for your reaction.

You hummed and chewed as the sweet filling burst in your mouth. Apricot jam. Very delicious.

"It's delicious!" You said muffled.

"...Really?" He lowered his hands, sparkles in his eyes.

"Mhm! It's just the perfect sweetness." you continued chewing, sucking your fingers with a pop once you finished.

"You're a great baker, big guy."

He shrunk at your words. The nickname always made him feel so... flustered.

"Danke..." He spoke, looking down at his lap.

The two of you laughed until the sun dipped below the horizon and you were surrounded by a glowing sea of fireflies.

tysm for reading!! im a sucker for anythign bf könig related...

[kquil]

THE PICNIC MASTERLIST

REQUESTS COMPLETED : 71 | REQUESTS PENDING : 11

🥪 : sandwich | scenarios → moodboard [18]

poly marauders take their princess shopping @loving-and-dreaming cuddling marauders @loving-and-dreaming picnic date by the lake w/ james potter @aresriot movie night w/ marauders @loving-and-dreaming poly marauders x rockstar r. @futurecorps3 study date at a cafe with remus and regulus @starchaser-lily modern college au w/ remus and sirius @aadapaadakaunpaada doing your make up with sirius @wicked-sprite-66 baking w/ the marauders @bxffy-sxmmers going to the bar w/ the marauders @prongsio halloween w/ the marauders @mooniethesimp31 hockey player james x figure skater reader @wicked-sprite-66 heroes in tattoos poly marauders @diputy swimming in the lake w/ the marauders @thisclose-to-arson mafia bosses jegulus x reader @3473-warrior remus fighter au @michealeamidalajedi poly marauders help set up your boho classroom @loving-and-dreaming poly marauders w/ chubby r. who loves pink @loving-and-dreaming

🧁 : cupcake | shipped with a marauder [30]

🍰 : cake | moot special [5]

not hers | sirius x vanessa @loving-and-dreaming his florist, her tattooist | sirius x lilly @somewereinthegalaxi when stars align | wolfstar x lola @futurecorps3 friendly competition | sirius x cassandra @cassandra-nerezza-black passing notes | remus x eryn @diputy

🍪 : cookie | short imagines [14]

(rq.) remus lupin | not so secret admirer prt.2 @jennieasfrance (rq.) poly marauders | filo cooking @lyne-lyne remus lupin | patience with an inexperienced gf @loving-and-dreaming poly marauders | princess shopping @loving-and-dreaming poly marauders | meeting their match in slytherin reader @valencia-rou remus lupin | first dance @loving-and-dreaming james potter | dancing in the rain @aresriot sirius black | opening up about family issues @loving-and-dreaming james potter | wizard and muggle magic @loving-and-dreaming james potter | husband, wife and baby take a bath @loving-and-dreaming sirius black | husband, wife and baby take a bath @loving-and-dreaming remus lupin | husband, wife and baby take a bath @loving-and-dreaming james potter | picking you up after work @klerity poly marauders | three to four @vampbloodbunny2

🍕 : pizza | song inspired drabbles [...]

to be written

🍙 : onigiri | questions for kquil [7]

what activity immediately calms me? who would i get along with in the marauders? my hobbies? what pets i want breakfast? lunch? dinner? my fav marauder, what got me into the marauders, how i got into writing and my motivation fav colour and aesthetic my dark interests and horror story reading recs

[moriibun]

BEAT THE ROCK TITAN!!!!! /╲/\╭•̀ﮧ •́╮/\╱\ ༘˚⋆｡⋆𖦹.☆

i forgor how cute arven was.......hes just so baby and expressive!!!!!!! im not ready to see him and his mabosstiff again....sob sob........

BUT BUT- I GOT TO EAT SANGWICHES W HIM FOR NOW !!! no emo tears yet u guys ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

and.. i gave my half to miraidon bc i LITERALLY HAD TO OK!!! he looked at me w them big ol eyes ok . he is my son. then my other son shared with me B)

cute pic of lux and arven after beating da rock titan + eating sandwiches together ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )☆

‧₊˚ 🥪 ₊˚⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ 🥪 ˖ ࣪₊˚

[taxidermycanine]

hai

im not therian, but find a lot of comfort in your posts. seeing your blog on my dash always makes me happy and calm. i hope youre doing well, you all deserve kindness both from others and from yourselves.

*i nip at you* *nip nip nip!!*

you got me yearning for a pack

-🥪

therian or not, you are welcome on my blog, especially if it gives you comfort :O]

thank you for saying this, i really do feel nicer today after reading this. i'm so glad i joined the community when i did, i almost never made this account!! you deserve good things too, sandwich anon. take care of yourself today

i wish for a pack someday, too. i hope one day we can both have one :OP

[jeffament]

got an interview at my fav sandwich place🙏🙏 the questions were “what kind of bread would u like?” and “do u want it toasted?” and “with everything on it?” and “will that be all for you today?” 😁😁🥪