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tunastime · 1 year

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Cream of Turkey and Wild Rice, by VintageBeef

this is a gift for our lovely 🍂 anon, of whom i learned was their birthday today! i learned this yesterday. from laurie. thanks laurie. anyway—i hope you enjoy!

(1886 words)

(read it on ao3!)

Etho huffs out a warm breath and he can see it in the air in front of him. There’s a blanket of frost covering nearly every surface of the spruce forest he’s found himself in. The snow in the banks below is knee deep, and it covers the top half of the trees above him. Wedging the last of the brown mushrooms free from the coarse, gravely dirt below him, Etho stands. He brushes falling snow from his shoulders, pulls his hood a little further over his head. Luckily, his face is covered by a patchwork-colored scarf, tucked around his head and ears, a warm barrier between the cold and him. Bdubs insisted on it—it still smells like the pine tar soap he used to wash it.

Trekking out of the treeline, Etho makes his way back through the packed snow, careful not to punch his boots through anything loose. The bag on his hip is full of brown mushrooms and wild onion, the few bits of wild garlic he was able to find, chicken of the woods, bundles of pine straw for kindling. He marches back through the snow, reaching a ridge where he slides down, onto frost and dirt, rather than more snow. In the distance, over the patchy field and hills, he can see the monolith. The sun’s still 3/4ths of the way through the sky, with a bleak, white cast through the clouds.

The monolith is a warm shape against the horizon, despite it being stone. Maybe it’s the off-white shade of aged and weathered diorite, the flecks of other minerals intermixed. It fills his chest with something just as warm as the idea of stepping into the foyer of the house. He crests another hill and tries not to crush viola or primrose under his boots. The field along the edge of the birch forest usually hosts lily of the valley and tulip and daisy, but the snow’s all but snuffled them for now. In the spring, Bdubs’ll want to plant more. But for now, he points out the purple flowers every time he passes, and Etho stops to look.

Finally rounding the backside of the monolith, Etho stops at the threshold of the front door. He knocks the snow from the bottom of his boots, shakes it from the hood of his jacket, and pushes open the door.

He was right. The warmth floods him almost immediately, sinking into his bones.He unwinds his scarf, feeling the warm, dry air hit his face. No mask–the scarf had been enough as is. Plus it’s only Bdubs here, right now. He shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on the rack. His bag stays on the floor until he’s unlaced his boots enough to toe them off. As he does, he calls up to Bdubs.

“Bdubs?” he says.

“Etho?” Bdubs’ voice carries down the stairs. “I’m in the kitchen!”

“The kitchen?” Etho repeats. He cocks his head to the side, as if Bdubs can see it.

“Yeah!”

Etho snorts.

“Why?”

Bdubs sounds a bit defensive when he replies. Etho starts up the winding stairs, tracing the banister with his hand that isn’t supporting the bag.

“What’s it to you?” Bdubs says.

“What’cha makin’?” Etho asks as he pauses at a threshold. “Smells good.”

“Well come up and see!” Bdubs taunts. Etho rolls his eyes.

“Okay!” he calls up. Then, quieter, to himself, laughing a little. “Okay…”

He winds his way up the stairs, following the curve, until he meets the shrouded kitchen. He pushes past a particularly friendly vine and into the kitchen. Bdubs is standing at the stove, brow furrowed over a large pot on the burner. It smells fantastic. Onion. Chicken. Some other spice he can’t place. He sets his bag on the counter, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

“Hey, stranger,” he says. Bdubs turns. His face lights up all at once, softening as he sees Etho. Etho pretends like a pang of longing doesn’t stab through his chest. He laughs it away. Bdubs sets the spoon in the soup.

“Hey, you,” he says, smiling as he wanders over. Etho’s smiling, too, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“‘S cold out there,” he jokes. Bdubs snorts.

“Don’t I know it, sweetheart. C’mere—”

Etho draws himself closer to Bdubs. Bdubs’ hands come up to cradle his face, slotting around his jaw. Etho’s hand falls to Bdubs’ hip, the other gracing the back of his head. Etho leans down to kiss him. Just once, rather quickly. But he stays when they pull back and smiles at him and scrunches up his nose.

“Hiya, B.”

Bdubs laughs. He pulls away, patting Etho’s cheek.

“Hey,” he laughs, drifting back to the stove, but not without his hand around Etho’s wrist, pulling him with him.

“So,” Etho says, peering over his shoulder at the pot. He swears his stomach grumbles. “What’re you makin’?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s Beef’s recipe—” he gestures to an open cookbook next to the stove. The pages have all been handwritten, handbound by Etho and Bdubs themselves. Some of the older pages are starting to come unsewn, and they’re clipped in with pins and paperclips. Etho glances over.

“It’s not his pumpkin soup he stole from me, is it?” He reads it over, just a cursory glance. Carrots, onion, oil, celery–it’s not, not that he knows of, unless it’s changed that dramatically.

“No, no,” Bdubs shakes his head. “It’s chicken and manoomin.”

“Oh—” Etho blinks. He has a memory of sitting in a clear patch of snow, canvas tarp pulled taut next to a tree. Pause is sitting next to him by the fire. Beef is asleep under the tarp, burrowed in his bedroll. Pause is writing on the back of a scrap of paper, spoon in one hand. He waves it a little.

“What’s in it?” He asks. “Chicken, milk, that wild rice we found…”

Etho hums. “Broth.”

“Well duh, Etho—”

“Onion and parsley,” says Beef, voice heavy with sleep.

Etho snorts. He leans his head on Bdubs’ shoulder.

“I remember this one.”

Bdubs shrugs. Etho’s head moves with him. Bdubs turns his head and his nose bump’s Etho’s cheek. He laughs a little, especially when Etho leans into him and buries his face in his shoulder. His arms coil around his ribs. Bdubs leans back into him reflexively.

“I knew you would,” he says, patting Etho’s hands around his sternum. “That’s why I made it.”

Etho laughs against his shoulder.

“Ah, you caught me,” he says. Bdubs laughs, too.

“Get the kettle down before you get comfy, okay?” He gestures to the cabinet with his spoon. “I want a cup of hot chocolate ready before I go anywhere with you while the soup finishes.”

“With me?” Etho says, lifting his head. He unclasps his hands as Bdubs beckons him forward to try the soup. Let me know what it needs, it says. It’s good—more flavor than Beef ever put into it. He wonders if it’s sauteing the onion that helps? More salt and pepper than Beef would use? He hums, frowning.

“Yeah,” Bdubs says, not about the soup, but to answer Etho. “I always figure you have some idea in your head.”

Etho snorts. “It needs more parsley. It’s missing the base flavor.”

Bdubs nods, eyebrows raising.

“Snowball fight?” Etho says, after a beat. He’s moved to fetch the kettle, filling it in the sink. He sets it on the stove-top and makes sure the burner isn’t on. He’ll put it on when they come back, himself triumphant, and Bdubs covered in snow.

“Of course you would–” Bdubs snorts. “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Etho watches him untie his apron and set the ladle next to the soup. When he meets Etho’s eye, he grins, then shoos him off down the stairs. Etho bolts—he can’t help the excitement that’s just decided to chug through his veins. He skips a few steps, but he makes sure Bdubs is following him as he trails down.

He’s halfway to putting his coat on when Bdubs finally gets down. Bdubs moves around him, pulling on his coat, lacing his boots. He steals Etho’s colored scarf, twisting it around his neck, before he finds another, and motions to Etho to lean down to wrap it. He tucks it around his nose and mouth. Effectively masked.

Etho smiles at him from under it. Bdubs takes his hand. And now he’s pulling them out the door and into the backyard of the Monolith, where the snow cover is a bit thicker. He leaves him for a moment to trail a few steps away, so that his vantage point is better. He’s making sure not to step on any flowers peeking through the snow when—smack.

Snow falls down his open collar. He yelps.

Bdubs is laughing.

“Bdubs!” he gasps in mock offense. Bdubs snorts.

“Gotcha!”

Etho gapes at him. Then he leans over, packs a snowball, and chucks it. It whizzes by Bdubs head. Damn it!

Bdubs yelps in glee.

He’s packing another one. So is Bdubs. Bdubs throws and misses him by a long-shot. Etho throws and just barely clips his shoulder. He sprints side to side, trying to get him to miss. Bdubs is giggling like nothing in the world could be better.

They keep missing. Nothing’s really colliding aside from the one Bdubs managed to smack into the back of his head. They keep ducking at the opportune time. Etho’s fingers are pink with cold, starting to stiffen as he rolls another snowball in his hands. He peers with his good eye, tongue caught between his teeth, aims, and throws.

It hits Bdubs smack in the chest, enough to catch him off-guard at the least, before Etho dissolves into laughter. Bdubs falls over backward, dramatically, as the snowball hits him, falling into the half packed snow with an oof.

“Etho!” he drawls, his complaint full in his voice. Etho giggles.

Bdubs pulls him down. He flails, swinging his arms and legs out before he collapses next to him, nearly face first into the snow bank. Bdubs cackles, swatting at him as Etho’s arm and leg pin him in place. He sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Etho!”

“Bdubs!” Etho says, incredulous and out of breath. He’s laughing, too, unable to unstick himself from his wedged place next to him. Bdubs thwaps the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“That’s what you get,” Bdubs says, but his expression softens as Etho weasels his way up to kiss his cheek.

“Sorry, B,” he says, apology dripping with triumph.

Bdubs snorts. Then he kisses him, still covered in snow. His lips are cold.

He lies there for a moment, still pinning Bdubs into the snow, when Bdubs shivers, and Etho feels the snow in the back of his hood start to melt down his neck. Ick.

“Can we go eat soup, now?” he asks, mostly into Bdubs’ cheek.

“Only if you help me up,” Bdubs complains, whacking his shoulder. Etho giggles.

He does. And he helps him knock the snow off his shoes, and he helps stick paper into them so they dry, and he helps finish the soup (and definitely doesn’t taste it again), and he sits across from Bdubs at the table, his heart full to bursting.

There’s still snow in his hair. He decides he doesn’t care.

#ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #hermitshipping #hermitcraft fic #hermitcraft #fics #text #mcyt #mcyt fic #its christmas ok #well its winter but still #i get to have dreams of winter < lives where it doesn't snow #i just think that soup and snowball fights have a very special place in my heart #bc i have done them just not in a long time #also if you guys want the soup recipe.. lmk..#ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEAF #ILYSM!!#🍂 anon

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cherrirui-official · 4 months

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Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 3/7)

PART 3 RAAAAGH!!! SO SORRY THIS ONE TOOK SO LONG AAAH!!!! But it's here now, yippee!!! And just in time for Christmas too, wowie!

I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

Designs under the cut!

GRACE:

The light scars/ cracks on her body were injuries formed while she was accidentally sent through Turo's time machine. Unlike the paradox pokemon/ miraidon, GrAce's body isn't made of iron or metal, so her body wasn't able to withstand the large amount of tera energy used to power the machine as easily as the paradox pokemon were.

Luckily, she was just barely able to hold out against the time machine's energy until she made it to Turo's lab in the present day. Unfortunately, she can't be sent back because she would literally die if she went through the time machine again. Sooooo she's stuck in the modern era.

Very familiar with Area Zero and the various pokemon that reside down there, but moved out in order to continue producing music as well as familiarize herself with current-day Paldea.

She only vaguely know Clavell back when he was a rebellious teenager, though she didn't know his name. Clavell, on the other hand, was one of her biggest fans back in the 50s-60s.

Funny enough, when she sees "Clive" for the first time, she recognizes him! But not as Director Clavell, she just barely recognizes him as the random teenage fan that would occasionally ask her to sign various GrAce posters he had bought. She is also under the belief that he too, was sent from the past into the present, unaware that he simply just grew up.

Likes doing random poses for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

BRAIDY:

Believes that everything can be solved without violence, but can and will throw hands if need be.

Everyone in Braidy's family greet each other by playfully ramming into one another. So when Peppy and his team were getting chased down by Braidy's family during their journey, they weren't trying to attack them, they just wanted to say hi!

Braidy is really good with kids due to his experience with being the eldest sibling, as he'd often have to take care of his younger siblings.

Mykyie and Braidy shop at the same clothing store.

Speaking of Mykyie, the lighter parts of Braidy's fur appeared only after Mykyie passed...

As of now, he's still an apprentice, but he has great potential to become an all powerful wizard... someday.

CHRISTENE'S:

Artist's note: I couldn't fit their children in the bio sorry girls and gays. I'll probably draw them out later on after I'm finished with everyone else.

Their stomachs are basically voids, so every time they eat the food just disappears, which is why they're ALWAYS hungry.

HIGHLY flammable.

It is speculated that they're poppets, but you don't have any proof of that, do you?

If you listen closely, you can hear soft bell noises every time they walk. It is unknown why this happens, but I believe it is best not to ask.

Aaaaand that's it! I plan on taking a short break from these bc I wanna draw some other stuff. Dw, I'll continue to work on these very soon!

#You guys will never guess who's lore I spent the most time on...#A knee ways... sorry for the word vomit in GrAce's funfacts I just really like the lore I came up with for her #time traveling bird just hit different ig #Also if anyone has noticed: Yes I changed the spoiler warning image on the previous post #Having the same image on both posts was starting to confuse me a bit so I made a different one for that post as well as one for this post #I hope you like the lil Peppys i drew for each one lol #lil guys... look at them go!#again. sorry these took so long yall I got caught up with life and other stuff and yaknow what? That happens sometimes and its ok.#but I got these done in time for christmas! So ig this is my Christmas gift to yall haha #Merry Christmas yall!#cherris canvas #saltydkdan #friendlocke #friendlocke violet #violet gijinka au #also just noticing this but the quality is better if u click on the image bc sometimes it looks like i drew this on 144p u get what i mean?

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