#happily candied

[splashofcolorz]

The Miiverse Yeah! image trend but I replaced the default lime character with some of the members of Nintendo Wire (Hero TJ, Dark TJ, Jason, Lauren) + Myself.

[cryiingcastle]

Art fight attack on @frulleboi !

[fisheito]

Typing "capsaicin snake effect" into the search bar so i can figure out if yakumo can eat spicy food

[binah-beloved]

Binah likes those star-shaped hard candies. not because they taste particularly good- they're mostly sugar, anyways- but because you always seem so delighted when you give one to her. your voice singing "Binah, look! It's a little star!" is enough for her to face any day, no matter how deep the well and how loud the voices.

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

thinking about them again. correction im never not theyre always in the back of my brain just occasionally eveyrgtbing else in there dies and theyre the only ones left

[anticidic]

in 5 days I get to release my cumulative kitsunezai brainrot

thinking about what else to add to this epilogue as I sip my coffee

[yowyowyaoi]

Konan: Kakuzu … I thought you said you’d take care of the candy for the trick or treaters?

Kakuzu: I did.

Hidan: What the hell, old bastard?! I don’t see any candy!

Tobi: Kakuzu-san, where’s the chocolate shaped like ghosts and bats?

Kakuzu: *holds up a bowl of apples* I’m putting these out instead. Have you ever looked up how much sugar is in just one apple?? Health-wise, it’s much scarier than chocolate.

Deidara: You DO know that if we give out apples, the hideout will probably get egged later tonight, hm?

Kakuzu: Exactly. Have you seen what the store is charging for eggs nowadays?? We could use all the free food we can get.

The others: 

[doodlesartpile]

Some days I really crave my favorite candy... I should get more soon

[spunknbite]

South Downs, revisited

The garden faces south.

Wisteria and lavender. Borders of delphinium. Brilliant violet asters, peonies and shock-white hydrangeas. Hostas that could use splitting come spring. Hollyhocks thriving, standing ten feet easy. Lady’s Mantle, climbing roses, snap dragons. Yarrow, a lot of yarrow.

Grow you a garden. Start from seed, from the beginning, the inception. Dirt under fingernails, cracked terracotta pots, noon sun high. Watch stalks rise and flowers bloom, creation, something new and whole and yours.

There’s lattice-work arches too. A little neglected, water-warped wood imprinted with decades of climbing tendrils tattooing the grain. The clematis has fallen back, overstretched and thinning at the apex, but still the stains of its vines remain on the wood, revealing past summers. The patio stones that dot the perimeter are smoothed almost slippery from years of use and rain. Initials are carved in the trunk of the overgrown birch that shadows the back gate. SM + RB dug deep in testament, a fine layer of moss creeping at the edges.

Loved, this garden was loved by its former caretakers. Could be loved again, certainly.

There’s room enough to spread out. Add some colour — daylilies, cosmos, bellflowers. Coax some ivy up the brick. Mint as ground cover, along with flowering thyme, lily of the valley, phlox. 

He could build an awning off the back wall, offer some more cover. Move the hostas – they’d be happier under the protection. Plant some astilbes, coral bells, some begonias in the summer. Add a few lounges, a place for an angel to read while it storms. 

Maybe an apple tree, if he’s feeling bold.

-----

“I quite miss the country,” Aziraphale says one afternoon. A sip of tea, the familiar clink of cup on saucer. “It’s been centuries.”

“Tadfield?”

“Centuries since I’ve holidayed properly. The occasional day trip hardly counts.”

“You can’t leave this shop.”

“Not permanently, maybe just to get some air. See the sky again.” Saucer meets desk. A smile his way, blue eyes alight,

“And I will make thee beds of Roses  And a thousand fragrant posies,  A cap of flowers, and a kirtle  Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle”

“For Satan’s sake, you’re invoking Marlowe of all people?”

“And why shouldn’t I? Just because he’s been a smidge overshadowed by —”

“You know he was an atheist, angel?”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“And that broken clock can write poetry too?”

“Quite.”

The bell above the shop door rings, and Aziraphale is off. 

-----

The third bedroom is just a nook really; it peaks out of a dormer window overlooking the back garden. It has built-in shelves along one wall, inset and bordered with the sort of colonial crown moulding that Crowley imagines only Aziraphale would truly appreciate. Grandmotherly; shelves seemingly meant to house sun-faded doilies and ceramic cats.

But it could be a library. Granted, a small one, but there was space enough for a collection of the essentials with room to spare under the window for a desk. An angel must keep up with his correspondence, after all. 

Dear angel, he’d written once, centuries ago. Then scribbled it out.

Dear angel, he’d written again, not long after. Then burned it.

Dear angel, he’d written again and again and again. Wasted paper made pulp made paper again, never sent.

-----

He buys the damned cottage. 

Dumb idea. Impulsive, really. Like a lot of what he did, what he still does — gets a notion in his demonic skull and just charges on, unencumbered by reflection. As if he trusts some higher power is looking out for him, has his back – the absurdity of it. Once upon a time before the beginning of the world, he’d sauntered vaguely downward without really considering all the consequences, the ramifications of it all; hadn’t weighed and measured, worked out the celestial maths. No, he made a choice and paid for it without knowing the price.

(he would have kept sauntering on anyway, knowing where it would ultimately lead — earth and humans and their wonderful cars and Aziraphale and and and — but he hadn’t known then, couldn’t have known, just what shape his damnation would take, and that was rather the point; he was a careless idiot)

Here too, on earth. We can run away together — Alpha Centauri. Get an idea, a cocked up, stupid thought and go all in on it. 

The Bentley, raging down London streets. A sharp, nearly blind corner. Is there oncoming traffic? Could he stop if he wanted to? Who’s even in control, has he ever been? Has he gone from one master to another to another?

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

So he buys the damned cottage, because what else can he do?

-----

Aziraphale gets in the elevator and Crowley gets in the Bentley. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but it’s not South Downs.

Also on ao3 for anyone interested.

[brittlebutch]

enough fic where Sarek refused to let Amanda raise Spock as Jewish; i want to see Sarek go apeshit on the noisemaker on Purim

[knizuu]

Trick or Treat!

A treat for you of course!!!

My Fang will give you your favorite candy :>

[britcision]

Teabox: did you know that your tea is at least 9-12 MONTHS OLD???

Me looking at my tea cupboard, almost all 9-12 years old: yup yeah that sounds terrible… mmmmmmhm

[diwanis]

[quietwingsinthesky]

supernatural have an angel character who prioritizes other angels over everything else not be villainized challenge (impossible) (failed)

[clanoffelidae]

got some valentines stuff on clearance and tried one of the queen anne milk chocolate cordial cherries

i swallowed it instead of spitting it back out because i paid for it and that is the only reason why

had to cut up and eat an apple to feel human again and there was literal relief after the first bite of apple washed away a large amount of the lingering sensation of the torture device that called itself a ‘confection’

[madeinjapan-thailand-blbambeyond]

MAN CRUSH FANDOM • MADE IN JAPAN

YAMANAKA JYUTARO

KIMURA KIETO