#yes I left the grape on purpose

[delcakoo]

omg pls idk if u did it but chapstick challenge w beomgyu would be the cutest thing ever ☹️☹️

chapstick challenge w/ beomgyu ♡̩͙ˊˎ!

your wish is my command anonnie :D

“okay,” beomgyu shrugs, throwing his phone on the couch. “anything to do with kissing you has an automatic yes from me.”

you originally thought it’d take a couple tries to convince your boyfriend to do the new, stupid challenge floating around social media, but surprisingly, it only took one puny attempt and undetailed explanation to get him on board.

of course, his reason for participation being that the ‘chapstick challenge’ involved kissing — and the simple fact that it was a challenge, and beomgyu never turned down one of those.

you blink. “oh. i wasn’t expecting a yes that quick.” you stand from the couch, pacing off to the bedroom. “let me go get the chapsticks then, big shot.” he snickers at your nickname, manspreading confidently as you eventually rush back in with a red tie and a packet of flavored lip product hidden behind your back.

once you kneel down and set your phone up on the coffee table, beomgyu takes a seat right next to you while begrudgingly tying the neckpiece over his eyes, lips perked up in determination .

as soon as the fabric is secured around his face, he starts cluelessly swinging his arms around in search of you, struggling to find your figure as your apply a grape flavoured lip balm. “yah, is this a prank? where are you?”

rolling your eyes at his impatience, you cup his cheeks to let him know you hadn’t abandoned him, giggling when he flinches and lets out a surprised yelp. “okay, ready for the first one?” you inquire.

immediately, beomgyu puckers his lips in an exaggerated manner. “i’ve been ready. c’mon, baby.”

deciding to spare some mercy and not tease, you lean in, kissing him softly. beomgyu on the other hand is more than eager to feel you; bringing you closer by your waist to deepen the kiss. at first, you believe it’s part of his strategy to win as he licks your lips innocently — but that all goes down the drain the second he playfully shoves his tongue into your mouth.

you hastily pull away, sending him a displeased glare even if he can’t see it. “beomgyu,” you scold, watching the blind idiot lean forward in an attempt to kiss you again with no avail, “i know what you’re doing.”

“what! i did nothing!” he defends in a honest tone, but you quickly catch on to the miniature, smug smirk on his now wet lips.

“you’re supposed to be guessing flavours, not making out with me!”

he pouts, sitting criss cross again. “but making out’s more fun, don’t you think?”

“gyu, if you don’t want to—“

before you can move to stand up, you’re already being pushed back down by your shoulder. “okay, okay! geez, you’re so strict,” he grumbles jokingly. “i’m gonna try for real this time, seriously.”

you sigh, reaching across the table to apply a new, fresh layer of grape chapstick. “alright then, ready?”

beomgyu nods, sitting in anticipation as you hold his arms still and bring him into another sweet kiss. you don’t move much, letting your boyfriend start his seemingly focused investigation. suddenly, he bends lower to suck your bottom lip for a few seconds, making your brows furrow in confusion.

“hmm.. what could it be..” he mumbles in a serious tone, and yet you swear you see him try to stifle a laugh.

gaining more suspicion by the minute, you raise a brow. “babe, it seriously can’t be that hard. i purposely chose an easy flavor first.”

beomgyu rudely ignores your words, much too busy resuming his hasty attack on your lips with his own. it’s messy and downright aggressive as he takes turns kissing every inch of your upper and bottom lip, tongue mischievously poking out every once in a while. at this point, you doubt there’s any chapstick left on your lips, but you couldn’t deny that all the affection you were receiving was appealing.

you take it all back when you’re abruptly hit with a gentle nip of pain. “ow!” you snap, glaring down at the boy who had just bit your bottom lip. “what the hell was that for?”

snickering, he takes off the makeshift blindfold. “sorry, just felt like it.” realising this whole idea was a total fail, you huff in defeat, watching as beomgyu licks his lips before humming in satisfaction.

you send him an unimpressed frown, “can you at least guess the flavor?”

“grape,” he instantly replies, “i already knew that since the first kiss.”

you pause, jaw dropping as you attempt to process his confession. it was truly a mystery how you ended up dating the biggest dork on planet earth. “gyu, are you kidding me?!”

even if he’s anything but, beomgyu shrugs with innocent eyes before tossing the blindfold over to you. “nope. now put this on, baby. it’s your turn to kiss me, don’t you think?”

clearly, your boyfriend wasn’t here to guess lip balm flavors. you groan, picking up the tie and accepting your defeat, watching beomgyu reach over for the chapstick with his classic, stupid grin on his face.

woops this was longer than i anticipated 😭 still not gonna add my taglist tho jshdj, if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated!

#delcakoo #delcakoo requests #txt soft hours #txt fic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt reactions #txt fics #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fic #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu fluff #beomgyu fanfic #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #choi beomgyu fanfic #txt ff #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu ff #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu soft hours #txt scenarios #txt

[snaileer]

Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

7.

8.

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

#batman #danny phantom #batfam #dc #danny fenton #batman and robin #danny phantom crossover #young justice #bruce wayne #tim drake #ra’s al ghul #Gotham #dick grayson #Jason Todd #red robin #robin damian #Damian wayne #Damian al ghul #dp x dc #dpxdc #this is part 3 #there’s also more reblogs and story offshoots in the original post #go read em!

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Rollo Flamme - Student Council President Robes Vignette

"...How carefree."

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Interior]

Rollo: Sigh… There is a slight chill. In addition, the sun is rising later as each day passes.

Rollo: Heh… This is a wonderful season. The time I must spend exchanging idle prattle with my idiotic classmates grows shorter.

Rollo: Now, before everyone awakens, I will do what I can to fulfill my duties.

Rollo: …And it would be a nuisance if I were to be spotted by those irritating bunch, as well.

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Upstairs]

[gargoyles clanking around]

Rollo: AUGH, SILENCE! You blasted gargoyles.

Rollo: All your merry romping is completely undignified. Can you not settle down for even a single moment?

[gargoyles happily clanking around]

Rollo: Ugh, yes, I will be sure to tend to you all next weekend. After all, I cannot tolerate abandoning a task that I have taken on.

Rollo: If you understand, then leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to.

[gargoyles clank away]

Rollo: …Finally, they've left. Good grief, they are indeed a troublesome group.

Rollo: It is repulsive enough that they operate on magic, but they are much worse in conjunction with all that atrocious noise...

Rollo: If their whole purpose of existence were not to protect the bell tower, I would have long ignored those hunks of stone.

Rollo: …Would you not agree, dear Bell of Salvation?

Rollo: Heheh. You are as beautiful as ever today.

Rollo: How wonderful it would be if everyone were just like you.

Rollo: You ring when you should ring and are silent when you should be silent. Nothing could be more appropriate and certain.

Rollo: …Ah. The sun will rise soon.

Rollo: I should finish cleaning before the bell ringers arrive.

Rollo: Please bestow upon us your beautiful resounding tones again today, dear Bell of Salvation.

[Noble Bell College – Courtyard]

Rollo: It's finally time for lunch.

Rollo: This should be a good distance away so I would not have to suffer the prattling of those unpleasant mages. I shall rest here…

???: Oh, President, here you are!

Rollo: Hm?

Vice President: I was searching for you, Rollo-kaichō. Why are you eating your lunch all the way out here?

Rollo: Oh, it's you…

Vice President: I see you're having bread for lunch. I never see you in the cafeteria, so I had no idea.

Rollo: That's right.

Rollo: 2 croissants and 16 singular grapes, as well as one cup of café au lait.

Rollo: That's all. That is my lunch every single day, 365 days a year.

Vice President: Eh, every day? YOU HAVE THE SAME THING FOR LUNCH EVERY DAY!?

Rollo: With a strict routine, I am able to forgo any unnecessary desires. It is rather refreshing. I wholeheartedly recommend you try it as well.

Vice President: I-I don't think I could do it. I'd probably get tired of the same stuff quickly.

Rollo: …How unfortunate that you are not a kindred spirit. More importantly, you had some business of me?

Vice President: Ah, right. Your professor was searching for you just a moment ago.

Vice President: It sounds like they wanted your permission to publish in a newspaper the essay you wrote on your impressions of that one book.

Rollo: A newspaper? …You wouldn't happen to be referring to the "Shaftlands News," that I read for my morning paper, would you?

Vice President: That's right. It's absolutely amazing that you'll be featured in such a big newspaper! That's Rollo-kaichō for you!

Vice President: I also heard that you were the only one who received a perfect score on the Potionology test in today's class.

Rollo: Hmph. It's nothing of import.

Vice President: No need to be so humble! Why, just the other day, you even brought to bloom a water blossom that is said to be very difficult to cultivate. The professors were very impressed.

Vice President: I truly hold you in high regard. There is no other mage at this school that has as much exceptional expertise as you!

Rollo: Is that so? …How ironic.

Vice President: Is something the matter?

Rollo: Nothing of concern. Rather, thank you for your message. Sorry to have caused you trouble.

Vice President: Not at all! But since I'm here, could I take lunch with you?

Rollo: …Well, I am just about done eating. I will be heading right to the professor's office now.

Rollo: Forgive me, but I must head out. We can partake in lunch together some other time.

Vice President: Alright. Then, we'll do it some other time!

[Noble Bell College – Lecture Hall]

Rollo: …How carefree. Why would he speak to me so familiarly, when he cannot even understand my thoughts…?

Rollo: Ah, but there is no time to dwell on that. I must head towards the staff room.

[City of Flowers]

[enters store]

Rollo: Hello.

Rollo: …Yes, that's correct. I would like to order the usual letterhead and envelope. Yes, one of the white ones.

Rollo: …Heh, I agree. Even if it may be considered an anachronism, I believe letters are wonderful tools.

Rollo: It may not be as convenient as sending an e-mail or making a phone call, but with more care and thought placed into each word, one can avoid any careless language.

Rollo: Hm? There is a cheaper stationary set similar to this one, from a different maker? …No, I am perfectly content with my usual fare.

Rollo: I could not bring myself to change the physical appearance of the letter after writing them for so long. I prefer to keep my things consistent and orderly, after all.

Rollo: …Yes, indeed. Thank you for everything, as always. Goodbye.

[leaves store]

Rollo: …A superb shopkeeper. As one would expect from a resident of the city that the Righteous Judge loved so.

Rollo: As a student of Noble Bell College, I must strive to be just as noble.

Rollo: …This city is a pleasant place to reside. The people are amiable, and the scenery is fantastic.

Rollo: However, all these beautiful flowers were originally cultivated with magic…

Rollo: Flowers… Magic…

Rollo: Mheh… Hehehe… Hehehehe…

Goat: Baa, baa.

Rollo: Hm, a goat, is it? What do you hope to gain from nestling up against me?

Rollo: Perhaps you are hungry. Unfortunately, I don't have anything that you could eat.

Rollo: If you are hoping for me to feed you, you would be better off finding someone else…

Goat: Baaa～

Rollo: What? …Are you attempting to snatch my stationary!?

Rollo: How vile… No, you cannot have it. I am very partial to this specific stationary.

Rollo: Moreover, eating paper will cause you digestive issues. I shan't think any less of you. You should give u… Hey, let go this instance!

Goat: Baaa～～

Rollo: You wretched goat! If you do not release my papers, I will have to just…!

Rollo: Ah. No, there are too many people who may see…

Rollo: If you weren't a creature cherished by this city, I wouldn't hesitate to send you flying.

Rollo: Consider this a narrow escape.

Goat: BAAA!

Rollo: Don't you dare gnaw on my robe! I may find the City of Flowers to be spectacular in and of itself, however I cannot approve of these unsanitary conditions.

[Noble Bell College – Student Board Room]

Rollo: "In conclusion, I am doing as well as ever. My best wishes to you both, as well." …

Rollo: …Perhaps that is a tad too formal.

Rollo: No matter. It is enough for my parents to hear that I am doing well here.

Rollo: They have always been worrisome…

Rollo: Much too worrisome… Ever since…

Rollo: …

Rollo: The fire…

Rollo: …

Rollo: …Well. I suppose I could provide additional updates in the letter.

Rollo: I'm certain I will be unable to fall asleep sufficiently tonight, at any rate. I'll continue revising it as much as possible.

Rollo: I have nothing but time, after all…

Requested by @raven-at-the-writing-desk.

#twisted wonderland #twst #rollo flamme #twst rollo #twst translation #twst glorious masquerade

[neo404]

Kitchen Accident.

Summary: While going for a mid-night snack with your close friend Nick in his kitchen, you start to goof around and wrestle (as a joke or game), and he accidentally stains your sleeping shirt with grape juice.

tw: cursing. use of good boy (as a joke??). suggestive?? at the end

Note: The reader is shorter than Nick.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

"All right, we can go to the kitchen, but we have to be silent; I don't want to wake the kids and make them grumpy." Nick says as he grabs the door handle and looks at me dead serious.

I nod, and he opens the door of his room, walking silently to the kitchen and turning the lights on. He left his phone on the counter and walked to the fridge.

"What do you have?" I ask, looking over his shoulder. He hums as he scans the fridge. "Chris' pepsis are a big no; he will kill us. It's not fun to drink milk if it's breakfast. Water and grape juice!" He smiles, looking back at me.

"That sounds great," I say playfully as I start searching for the bag of snacks I bought with me today. "Hey, Nick, where is the bag of snacks?"

He puts the pack of plastic bottles on the counter, opens up a drawer, and takes out a knife. With it, he breaks the plastic, takes out one bottle, and takes a drink out of it.

"I think I left them in one of the top drawers," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

"Okay," I say, and start opening the drawers, which had lots of things like plates, cereal, empty boxes, and mugs, but no bag with snacks until I opened the shelf next to Nick, and there it was, on the top shelf. I stand on my tiptoes but can't reach them. I let out a groan and looked at Nick with "anger."

"You did this on purpose."

"do what?" He tries to hide his smirk with his hand and the bottle of juice, but I see it, and I cross my arms over my chest. "You placed the bag there because you knew I couldn't reach it."

"How do you know it was me? Maybe it was Matt; who knows?" "No, why would he do that? It was you; now get it down so we can continue watching drag races."

"See, you liked the show. and I won't help you until you say please and thank you." He's smiling wider, and I try to contain the blush on my cheeks.

"No, I won."

"Then, no snacks."

"Come one, don't be a jerk," I say, walking to him and grabbing his arms to try and move him over. Closer, go to the drawer. "Don't push me around you idiot," he laughs and starts pushing and pulling me playfully. The kitchen was filled with laughs and curses from both of us.

"Just grab the fucking snacks! I won't say please." As I said, he grabs my arm with his free hand and pulls me closer to him, leaning forward. His mouth is right beside my ear. "Be quiet; good boys don't behave like that." His voice is low, and I can tell he is smirking from the way it sounds. I blushed and pushed him away from me, his grape juice splashing over me. He burst into laughter while covering his mouth, trying not to wake anyone up. "What the fuck, Nick?" I let out in shock; my chest and stomach are cold, and my cheeks are hot. I can't even look him in the eyes.

"I was just playing, god, sorry," he says between giggles. "You should take your shirt off," he says, winking at me.

"STOP THAT!" He laughs even harder. I cover my face and let out a groan. He stops laughing and grabs my waist. "what-?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spill my drink over you... but now I can take off your shirt, help you dry yourself, and give you one of my shirts," he whispers close to my face. "Why are you doing this?"

"I mean, the drink was an accident; I don't know what took over me to say what I said. I never thought you'd like it or like me, so I never did anything, but... did you like it? I mean, like me, do you like me?." he smiles.

"God, Nick, yes, of course." I grab his cheeks and pull him down to kiss him.

"All right then, let's go to my room and get you cleaned up." He kisses my head. He grabs the bag of snacks, and I grab the pack of drinks.

"Just so you know... these chips and chocolates aren't the only snacks I want to eat tonight," he winks at me and runs to his room.

"NICK, WHAT THE FUCK!"

#nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

[divine-donna]

treatments for sorrow

pairing: alicent hightower x gn! reader

word count: 1,325 words

ao3 link: 🌿🌿🌿

wow! happy new year guys! to start 2023 off right, i thought i’d provide a short alicent fic. one for rhaenyra probably to come too! anyways, have fun with this one!

When she enters the room, she’s surprised to see you.

But she remembers that she asked you to come see her. Late into the night. When no one would see. Because no one could see you. She wasn’t a man, she was a woman. And not just any woman, but the Queen.

It would be a scandal for her to be found with a sex worker.

You’re just sitting on her bed, a bowl of fruit resting on your lap. Another, smaller bowl rests besides you, half of it full of pits and seeds. The fruit presented on the bowl in your lap is a simple mix of sour cherries and grapes. “Your Grace.” You says as you lift up a cherry. “Care to join me?”

She looks around and closes the door behind her before walking over. “No one saw you right?” Her eyes glance down at your bowl of fruits.

“I’ve been here the whole afternoon.” You place the cherry in your mouth, plucking off its stem. You pit the cherry and pick up the small bowl besides you, spitting the pit into the bowl to join the other pits. “I am very popular here in the Keep, it seems.”

Her face looks slightly worried. “Can I have one?” Her eyes are looking at the fruit.

“I brought the grapes for you.” You smile.

Alicent smiles back and sits next to you, taking a bunch of grapes. You hand her the bowl of pits so she can remove the seeds from her fruit. She begins eating them. Her bites are small, the kind of bites suitable for a highborn woman. “Are we sticking to the usual?” You ask.

Alicent nods as she swallows her grape. “Yes.”

You eat one last cherry, taking the pit out and putting it in the seed and pit bowl, before standing to place the bowl of fruit on a flat surface away from the bed. Once you sit back down, you begin removing her hair accessories, setting them down on a nearby table. Your fingers comb through her hair, feeling its softness. “You have been taking better care of your hair.”

“Yes. I have more time for myself, thank the gods.” She eats another grape, discarding the seeds into the small bowl. “And have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I always am, Your Grace.” You stop. “Feel better?”

“A little.” Alicent lays down on your lap, feeling its comfort. She sighs and looks at the grape between her fingers. “How long have we been doing this?”

You think back to the first time you met with Queen Alicent Hightower. It was a while ago, years ago in fact. This has been going on for years. You didn’t mind being in the shadows. After all, that was the general purpose of your occupation. You and the Queen were roughly the same age and she encounters you when you’re trying to sneak out of the room of a member of the Small Council. She saw you, you saw her. And the two of you looked into each other’s eyes before you excused yourself and left. You didn’t notice the longing look she gave you, how she stared at the hallway you disappeared down for a few minutes, picking away at her fingernails. And when you came back, she placed a pouch in your hand and asked you to come to her room late into the night.

Much to your surprise, she didn’t ask for anything. Only for an ear and for you to run your fingers through her hair. The first time, she told you many things, amongst them concerns for her children and her husband’s health, her father’s wellbeing. How even though he was expelled from his position as Hand of the King years ago, she still missed him and struggled with the guilt of not doing enough. He would understand why she didn’t do much, is what you told her, because he understood how much her children mean to her. She was even brought to a tear, which you wiped away with the sleeve of your top.

When she was done, she placed a small but hefty bag of coins in your hand. Please don’t tell anyone. She asked. And take a little extra.

You open the bag, digging through the coins, all of them a shiny silver. You take one out and place it in her hand. She looked confused. You reassure her. Your secrets will always be safe with me, Your Grace.

“A while. Since...What’s the name of your third child?” You furrow your brows in a look of extreme concentration.

“Aemond.” Alicent lets out a small laugh.

“I was going to say Aemond One-Eye.”

“Technically, you would be correct.” She eats another grape and drops the seeds into the bowl.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about today, Your Grace? I understand that it was the King’s funeral and you talked about how stressful planning it was last week.”

“There still needs to be more planning.” She sighs.

“And what would that be for?”

She purses her lips. “Making Aegon King.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Aegon?”

“Yes, Aegon.” She eats another grape and puts the seeds in the bowl. She was almost done with the bunch. “It is a lot of planning.”

“You plan on usurping the Iron Throne from Princess Rhaenyra?”

Alicent freezes, body tensing up. The silence lingers for a minute or so before she answers. “Yes.”

“Then I fully support you.”

“Really?” She looks up at you, her royal gaze piercing your own.

“Aegon is your son. And during our first session, you told me how your father said you have two choices: make Aegon king, prepare him to rule, but usurp the princess’s claim, or let the princess ascend to the throne, hope she does not kill your children, and beg for their lives. You chose the latter because family is important to you. And because you love your children, like any mother.”

Alicent relaxes, letting out a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

“I tend to always be right, which is why I make a lot of money.”

She lets out another small laugh. “Patrons of all kinds must want your attention.”

“Yes. But there is only one patron who has truly captured it.” You look at her.

“Is that so?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. Why would I lie?”

“You would not.” She shakes her head and eats her last grape. “I hope whoever it is, they line your pockets up with plenty of silver and gold.”

“They do, but I just enjoy spending time with them.” You say. “By the way, Your Grace.” She looks up at you again. “Would you like updates on your son Aegon?”

“It would be appreciated.” She sighs. “Sometimes, I do not understand him.”

“He is an...interesting fellow.” You think back to the multiple times you saw him visit your workplace and how many children in Flea’s Bottom you’ve seen with the same, Valyrian silver hair he had. “But I will make sure to check the log books for the expenses.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” She says, setting the empty branch in the bowl with the cherry pits and grape seeds.

“You don’t need to thank me, Your Grace.” You gently take her hand.

“But you do so much for me. You listen, offer advice. You’re even my eyes and ears into the city, tell me of my children’s doings. You even hold me when I cry.”

“Tears are natural, Your Grace. There is no shame in crying. Lots of people cry after their time with me.”

That statement makes Alicent laugh. “Surely you must be amazing.”

“Would you like to try?” You look at her suggestively.

“Gods no!” She’s still laughing. “But thank you anyways.”

“Of course, my Queen.” You pull her hand up and press a small kiss to her knuckles.

“I will always offer a treament for your sorrows.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones #alicent hightower #alicent x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #i am very gay for olivia cooke

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Ruklon Runarys

Group: A

Prompts: Watch me woo you. Apples, spring, evil. Grapes.

-

Fruit of Life  

Belle walked among the gardens on her father’s estate. She had crossed the vineyard and had tasted a grape here and there. Letting the juices of the fruit consume the senses of her mouth, she smiled. She had outrun her governess back in the house. The older woman had gone on and on about social etiquette and Belle was over it. It was not the 19th century anymore, she thought. It was 1912 and everything was going to be different, she could feel it. Belle wanted to study at university, learn about the world. However, her father had different ideas about his only child and daughter. He needed an heir to leave his estate to. Who else was going to oversee all the fields full of fruit trees? 

For now, Belle could relax. She had taken one of her favourite books: Greek and Roman Myths. It was a beautiful day, with the sun giving a pleasant warmth on the skin. 

Belle decided to go to the apple orchard. The long rows of trees gave her a sense of safety, hidden beneath the branches like a cool embrace of shadow. 

Sitting down, she made herself comfortable on the biggest root of the tree and opened her book where she left off. She had just finished with the myth of the rites of Dionysius. If her father ever found out she had read about this, he would be appalled. He already had forbidden her to enter the library after dinner, so she would not sneak a book with her back to bed. She had been lucky to find this one in a drawer of what were once her late mother’s belongings. Belle had been very happy to discover another book her mother had loved. 

The next myth in her book was called Hades and Persephone. The spring sun shining through the leaves gave the pages an aesthetic colour, inviting her to the story. Clearing her throat, Belle started reading aloud. 

“It was a beautiful day like all the others in the land, the sun shining brightly in the sky, …” 

Belle read on about Persephone frolicking in the fields while her mother Demeter sat close and her father Zeus peered down from the sky above. 

She stared with open mouth at the page when it described Persephone picking the most enchanting flower she had ever seen, when suddenly the earth split open in two and the terrifying God of the Underworld Hades emerged from the depths of Tartarus. Feeling empathy towards the mother of the young goddess, Demeter, Belle watched how the world became cold and dark and began to feel her own hopes fade as well. Then the book described how back in the evil underworld, Hades tried to explain his actions towards Persephone and begged her to stay and be his wife. 

“Yet, Persephone longs for something more...” 

“To find purpose in her life, to be bold and wise, to feel free and bright.” 

Belle was startled by the soft voice behind her. She looked up, meeting warm brown eyes. She recognized those eyes. It was Mr. Gold, one of the caretakers of the orchard. 

“I am so sorry to startle you, Miss d’Avon. I couldn’t help overhear your reading and was curious.” 

She smiled at him. “Hello there, Mr. Gold. I didn’t see you there. I take it, you have read it? 

“Yes, I must admit it is an insightful read. The Ancient Greeks knew how to explain the metaphors for life’s mysteries well. Very inventive indeed.” 

She nodded. “Indeed they are. Although I must admit I still need to finish most of it.”

He inclined his head and gestured to the ground she was sitting on. “May I?” 

Belle felt her smile widen. “Of course!” 

Lowering himself to the ground with his cane, he stretched himself next to her. 

“If you want, “ he sucked in a breath, “I could read it with you.” 

Belle felt her heart flutter. It wasn’t proper for her to sit here in the orchard with the caretaker alone, unchaperoned. But Belle was never one to care about propriety. She had liked Mr. Gold for a while now, ever since he caught her when she fell off a ladder trying to pick an apple. 

Taking the book from her hands, he continued to read. “Watch me woo you...”

Belle listened to his rumbling voice, wanting to lay her head on his shoulder. 

When he finished reading, Belle didn’t want to give up her possibility of closeness. 

She had had many conversations with him before, and she wanted to know his thoughts about the story. 

She decided to take her chance. 

“I am happy that in the end, Persephone found her purpose in greeting the new arrivals in the underworld and help them adapt to their new life. That she could be happy, both at her husband’s side as her mother’s. Although one question remains, why do you think Hades wanted her?”

Gold looked at her, meeting her eyes. “I have always thought he consorted with her for her wisdom. She transformed from a frail and fearful Persephone into a striking and radiant Queen of the underworld. She was his flickering light amongst an ocean of darkness.” 

That was an interesting thought. Somehow, she knew he was not only talking about Persephone. 

“She knew he would approve of her search for knowledge and life’s calling.” 

He smiled. “Yes, and she didn’t let her mother or her husband stop her from what she really wanted. She decided her own fate.” 

“I do find it cruel that Zeus was the one who plotted it all along. And didn’t present his daughter with a choice.” 

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.” 

They were interrupted by Belle’s stomach growling. Giggling, she was reminded how little she had eaten that day. Gold laughed as well and looked up. She followed his gaze. 

The apple trees lovingly bowed their branches over them while they sat together. 

Gold stood up and used his cane to lower a branch to him to pick an apple. 

He offered her the fruit, his gaze inviting. Grateful, she took a bite while he still held it in his hand, her eyes not leaving his. 

She had tasted the fruit of life and it could not be erased. 

-

#rumbelle showdown #round one 2024 #author: Ruklon Runarys

[chiskz]

▶️ [2 Kids Room] Ep.03 CHICHI X HAN

word count: 1.6k

summary: hard beginnings always lead to the best friendships

♡taglist: @alyszaen , @smh-anon , @neohyxn , @stealanity

trigger warning: mentions of being harm, mention of panic attack, mention of W00jin

____________________________

《 ♡ 》

They enter at the same time, shouting greetings to each other as if they had never seen each other before. Han immediately takes the grape as they both sit on the couch.

Han: Wo... It's been a long time since we've sat together so peacefully.

Chichi laughs and pulls one leg up onto the couch. She stops and tilts her head slightly to the side.

Chichi: No, for real... How strange!

She laughs again, hands clasping the calf of her bent leg.

Han: The fact that I'm tired after yesterday doesn't make it any easier!

They laugh together.

Chichi: We played games until late at night. Board games.

Han: But we stopped understanding the rules halfway through.

Chichi glances at the camera and runs her fingers through her hair.

Chichi: Who would care anyway?

_________________

Talk About CHICHI x HAN Felix, Seungmin, Changbin

Changbin laughs briefly and Felix adjusts his sitting position.

Felix: It's a very... dynamic duo.

Seungmin: I think it's a duo that went through a lot to be where they are.

Changbin: That's true. Honestly, I've never seen such a dynamic relationship development.

Felix: We choose our words very carefully.

All three laugh briefly.

_________________

Han: But! We know we're here for one purpose.

Chichi pursed her lips and nodded her head.

Chichi: It's probably about coming to terms with the past.

Han: Yes. I think we've matured enough to talk about it. I want some things to become clear even though we've already discussed this privately.

Chichi: Let's move on to what I call the "Levanter Night Incident".

_________________

Talk About CHICHI x HAN I.N, Bang Chan, Hyunjin, Lee Know

Lee Know: It started out hard.

Bang Chan: I think we all remember that memorable evening.

Hyunjin: We won a prize with Levanter then and we had a little party.

Bang Chan: Yes, exactly. I.N, Han and Chichi were then left alone in the kitchen.

The three look at I.N and I.N nods briefly.

I.N: They started arguing, it all happened so fast. Han said something like "we could have done it without you too" and the rest just sort of went. They were shouting at each other, I didn't think Chichi could raise her voice that much.

Bang Chan: And then we came back to you because we heard something was going on.

Hyunjin: We had to separate them.

Lee Know: Chichi then threw a glass and cut her hand, but she didn't care at all. She didn't notice it at all.

Hyunjin: Seungmin panicked and called an ambulance because Chichi wouldn't let us touch her.

I.N: And then Han went outside for a long time.

Hyunjin: Chichi left shortly after the paramedics treated her.

Lee Know: It was... really hard.

_________________

They both snort with laughter as Chichi takes a sip of iced coffee.

Han: First Levanter win. I said something very bad then, and apparently you didn't need much at that time to explode.

Chichi: That's true. I've heard the taunts from you before, and the one from then was the final blow. I don't remember when I was so angry... I'm very ashamed.

Han: I'm ashamed too. But the fact that we feel shame now only means that we have matured a lot.

A moment of silence. Han takes another grape and Chichi scratches her nose briefly with thumb.

Chichi: I remember what you said then... A medic was even called...

Han: Yeah, 'cause your hand...

Chichi: Yeah, yeah...

There is another moment of silence.

Han: Wow, this is going to be tough.

Chichi laughs briefly.

Han: I don't want to make excuses. I know what I said back then was really stupid. I don't want to make excuses, really, but it really wasn't that I didn't like you. I was just afraid. After the whole situation*... Then you joined... I was really afraid of how people would take it. Except for the fact that even me and Seungmin haven't recovered from that yet.

Chichi: I know and I really understand it. I am not blameless either. We said everything we had on our minds at the time.

Han: Yes... I said for sure then that I wish they wouldn't pick you in Stray 9th.

Chichi: You said that... And I said you don't deserve to be here either.

They both laugh perceptibly.

They fall silent for a moment.

Chichi: It was so cruel... Why did we do this.

Han: It's just... I knew what it would be like when a girl joined the male group. The rest of the members got along well with you, your gender didn't matter to them. I couldn't understand why they thought that, but not because I had a problem with it. I couldn't understand why they didn't think about public opinion. I know that other people's opinion is not the most important thing in the world, but I didn't know then how you would react to it. People... can be mean.

Chichi plays with the sock for a while.

Chichi: I understand what you mean. You're right, beginnings were really scary. I couldn't touch you guys without ending up with an article. I just kept reading how I didn't fit in with you and how I couldn't keep up with you at all.

Han: Yes, I know, I saw it... That's what I was thinking... Some people can't tactfully put their opinion into words. Except what they wrote about you wasn't an opinion...

Chichi: Mhm. I'm glad I'm slowly coming out of it. People seem to finally come to terms with the fact that male-female friendships exist. It's good that I have you, that I have you all. This whole quarrel shouldn't even be happening. I acted like a bully.

Han: The time we were arguing... I wanted to tell you everything to make you decide to leave. It was something I thought would be best for you, but... who did I think I was to decide for you that you couldn't do it?

Chichi: Yes, I felt it... That same night, I left the dorm. Back then I was really looking at flights to Japan.

They both laugh. They fall silent a moment later again.

Han: But you didn't leave.

Chichi: No, I didn't want that for real. I.N was with me all night, I remember. I decided I wouldn't give you that satisfaction!

They both laugh again, finally relaxing a bit.

Chichi: But more than that, I remember the moment when I really felt that you cared about me.

Han: What are you talking about?

_________________

Talk About CHICHI x HAN Felix, Seungmin, Changbin

Felix: It's been a rough night. I will never forget it, even if I wanted to.

Changbin: But luckily that's behind us.

Seungmin: God, yes. Now it's really good.

Felix: Once they found a common language, they became almost inseparable.

Seungmin: Really. Now when there's some noise, we know it's just them doing something again.

Changbin: Yeah. They are so loud that sometimes they are unbearable.

Felix: Sometimes you feel like walking up to them and just taking the batteries out.

Seungmin: I remember that one flight we had. Even the stewardess came over to us then and we had to separate them because they started some karaoke show.

_________________

Chichi: When we were at the airport recently, flying to our activity. It was my first time at the airport after my debut... I had a panic attack. I had my face covered with a mask, but I also covered myself with a hoodie because I couldn't stand it. Nothing extraordinary from the point of view of others. I also wanted to hide my hands in my sleeves, but you took my hand and squeezed it tightly instead. It was a firm grip, but I relaxed.

She laughed lightly and Han nodded, remembering that.

Chichi: It was so sudden... Our relationship was warmer back then, but you surprised me anyway. But I really needed it then. So I held your hand until the plane.

Han: Yeah, I remember that...

Han looks at Chichi with slightly wet eyes, which was barely noticeable.

Chichi: No one else noticed that something was wrong, only you. When I got on the plane and sat next to Changbin, he looked at me and asked "Are you okay?" And I told him, "Yes, Han saved me."

Barely visible tears flow to Chichi's corners, Han looks at her seriously.

Chichi: If it wasn't you... I literally felt like I would die there.

She laughs through tears, and Han looks away for a moment.

Han: I did it because you needed it. I know... I know what it's like. And it was easier for me to see that you were going through something similar.

Chichi: I know. I'm really grateful.

Han: I was wrong. Stray Kids without you-- there would be no Stray Kids without you. I even learned a lot from you without realizing it... Never listen to negative opinions, okay? They are not real.

Chichi: Han...

Han stands up and Chichi covers her face with hands to hide tears. He hugs her tightly.

Han: Don't listen to them, okay? Do not listen.

_________________

Talk About CHICHI x HAN I.N, Bang Chan, Hyunjin, Lee Know

Hyunjin: But now? They are really good friends.

I.N: I think that sometimes... it's worth telling each other everything that's on our hearts. When we hold all the negative emotions inside, we will not be able to go further and grew up.

Bang Chan: That's right. Often, when confronted, it turns out that some of our feelings were unfounded and we wasted our energy unnecessarily on them.

Lee Know: It's good that everything ended like this. We love Han and we love Chichi, seeing these two not getting along really hurt us.

Bang Chan: We are a family, and a family overcomes such weaknesses.

_________________

《 ♡ 》

_________________

* Han is talking about W00jin's departue situation

#oc-ommunity #kpop addition #stray kids 9th member #kpop added member #kpop oc #stray kids oc #idol oc #stray kids female oc #stray kids added member #stray kids addition #stray kids female addition #fake kpop member #fake 2 kids room

[titleknown]

HELLOWEEN #23: FANTOMISE!

-Fantomise is a Bard-Poet of Hell, with 144 platinum records to his name and 112 bands signed to his service. He may be summoned to grant skill and success at all endeavors musical, sway the hearts of others towards the summoner and to make invisible truths visible.

He appears as a knight with great claws and the head of a metallic bird and speaks in the voice of an angel. Do not challenge him to a duel of musical prowess, you will lose.-

This entry was from one of my sources that wasn't the Last Testament, though it did seem to be trying to pastiche its style and plagarized several of its entries, known as The Black Book of Don Juan.

Fantomise did not appear in the Last Testament because, to put it simply, he is a very new addition to the hosts of Hell. And it appears it is rapidly ascendant, amassing what appears to be by all testaments a hybrid of entertainment complex and a personal army, unusually large and organized compared to the common personal armies of hell. His statuses, for example, have at least doubled since the writing of that entry, dependant on the metrics one utilizes.

Multiple individuals from Trixoin to Gentiflaccio spoke in fear about him, which seems a testament to the power of his rise and thusly the importance of my interview with him. But, it was very difficult to get information about him due to the fact that he would not interview me directly.

I was able to enter his palace, a lavish stylized record studio office, where he sat upon a high platform on a velvet couch being fed grapes by attendants in scant rainiment, but he simply commanded me to "fight" two attendants of his, in a sort of singing-duel.

This was apparently quite common, given that he had an entire backup band behind a curtain for this purpose. I thought I had done quite well, but the fact that I ended up on the streets afterwards said otherwise. So I had to do some digging, both within the archives of Hell and, oddly enough, inside the archives of the world of humans.

This was because, to my surprise, I had found out that he was originally a human, an extremely talented musician by the name of Griffin DePalma in fact, who had lead a cult of personality in our world. Superficially, it appeared to be a rags-to-riches story, building himself up from nothing as a major rock singer and songwriter; even starting his own recording company, attracting marginalized voices from all around to build up a parallel small army there.

He was described as like a "Prince of Rock," and superficially kind and compassionate and beautiful to behold, thought some even then said that there were glimpses of darkness within. That his pursuit towards the acme of rock and desire for adoration was a brittle shell concealing nothing but darkness.

His popularity was his downfall, as the record business in many worlds is a cutthroat hellscape (And yes, from my own experience I would compare it to Hell, but that is its own digression), and so he was indicted on false charges for drug possession and murder and sent into prison, ironically put to work in the fields of manufacturing records, an incident with a record press destroying his beautiful face.

There was a massive protest for his release when he disappeared from the human world, and the data appears to match up to the time when Fantomise appeared in Hell after making an unspecified "deal" under his original name. I say "he" disappeared, but the entire prison, even those protesting in his favor, were gone as well.

There was nothing but a crater left on the date he came. The way the first few floors of his studio resemble the blueprints of the prison I was able to look up, along with some... indications in the walls have ominous implications.

Harkharold is a name that appears in the original contract, so it was likely he was the one who struck what was most likely a deal, an exchange of his service and his audience for power to ascend far beyond as a true Prince of Rock

It would appear at first that the student has yet again surpassed the master, and I presumed at first Harkharold would be consumed with jealousy, but when I asked Harkharold about it, he spoke not with bitterness, but with an odd pride.

Granted, that pride was mostly mocking Amduscias, but it was still a form of pride that seemed dissonant from his frustrated ambition. Well, it may be a cognitive dissonance of political position I suppose, one can be proud of a peer for the same lofty heights you despise in a rival.

Regardless, the willingness to sacrifice those who loved them most is chilling, perhaps the sort of attitude that ascendancy in Hell requires but also the sort of attitude that makes Hell miserable for both demons and souls.

I fear his ambitions may stretch even further beyond Hellish politics than even others, in a way that may impact even you dear reader. I would advise vigilance...

-Xavier X. Xolomon , Monsterologist and Understudy to The Librarian Of Babel

--------------------

Show of hands, who can guess which characters I'm ripping off with this guy, both design and story-wise?

It's probably very obvious to a lot of y'all, but I'm curious whether there's anyone who doesn't know!

Also, I am sad that I cannot compose music, so I cannot show what was certainly a spectacular rock duel between Xavier and Fantomise's two chronies.

Tho I will note, I imagine Xavier being voiced by either John Hodgman or friend of the blog @radicalhelmet, so there's that at least.

As per usual the whole descriptions, designs, ectcetera from this project are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

#my art #my writing #helloween #demon #demons #creature design #character design #phantom #prince #kingdom #rock opera

[secretobsessionstuff]

can you please do Kota and Blair for 18,43,78 on the “are you ok responses”?? maybe they get into an argument while blair isn’t feeling well so she leaves the room which prompts 18?

Thanks for the request!! The prompts come from THIS lovely post and I used:

18. "Like you care."

43. *can't answer over the urge to gag*

78. *humming no and cradling belly* "Mm-mm. M-My stomach..."

--------------------

Blair dropped her bag and coat onto the floor by the front door and made a beeline—ha Beeline—to the kitchen cabinet where they kept the medicine. She did not make that particular pun in her head, because her head was too sore to entertain any thoughts that weren’t about pain. 

The ache had first wrapped itself around her forehead, but quickly spread so that it wrapped around her whole body. The muscles in her shoulders and back felt constricted with tension. Her stomach too was feeling the discomfort of an intense ache. As if enveloped in an unwanted hug, she found herself sticky and uncomfortable, unable to shrug off the annoying weight that settled into her bones. 

She shook two pills into her hand and debated taking something for nausea. Blair never had much luck with anti-nausea pills; they never worked fast enough to stay down. The likelihood of the ibuprofen staying down wasn’t looking great either. The only reason she was chancing these pills was because she felt like she might stab the next person who spoke to her if she didn’t try something.  

Unfortunately for Dakota, he greeted Blair in the kitchen, solidifying his role as The Next Person Who Spoke to Blair. 

She did not stab him even though he came bouncing into the room, rambling about dinner. He made a Kotaline—you know, like Beeline—to the fridge. He opened the fridge so quickly that the jars and cans in the door clinked together annoyingly. Everything was annoying to Blair just then. 

Dakota shoved a handful of grapes into his mouth. “Thank God you’re home. I’m starving and we have literally nothing to eat,” he said literally eating fruit out of his palm. 

He spun around from the fridge and scanned the kitchen for something specific…something Blair was beginning to think she had forgotten. “Where’s the takeout? Did you get it?” He looked at her with exaggerated intensity. “Bee? Where’s our food?” 

Ah yes, the food. The food that Blair was supposed to pick up after the work. The food that would single-handedly save Dakota from starvation. That food. 

Blair didn’t want to look at him when she told him the bad news. What? With the way her stomach was aching, dinner was the last thing on her mind. She sat down on the kitchen stool with a sigh, burying her head in her hands. “I forgot it,” she mumbled, kneading her fingers into her forehead and eyes. 

“No. You’re lying. You’re joking.” 

“Fine. I’m lying. You’re right.” 

“Really?” Dakota asked, perking up like a dog.  

“No!” Blair slammed her hands on the kitchen counter. She didn’t mean to slam her hands, but they came down so heavily. Everything was so heavy. Her eyelids. Her stomach. The organ whined as if it had been stuffed with rocks. She blew a puff of air out of her nose, trying to remain composed. Dakota was just staring at her as if she maliciously flushed all their food down the toilet. She rubbed her hands together to get the tingling feeling to go away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a good day and I just wanted to get home. 

“So, you purposely skipped getting dinner?”

“No. I really did forget it. I left work and my brain just drove me home. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Yeah, you weren’t thinking.” Dakota licked his lips and dragged his hand over his mouth. “I take it that means you didn’t pick up my prescription either?” 

“What?” 

“I asked you to pick up my meds on your way home.” 

“When?” Blair had no memory of this. 

“This morning before you left.” Dakota was starting to get antsy now, moving aimlessly around the kitchen. Blair knew he got stressed whenever he missed a day of his adhd meds. 

There was so much she could say to this. Did Dakota even wait for a reply this morning or did he just assume that she would get his prescription? Did she give any indication that she heard him say this? The answer was no, obviously, considering that she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. 

And why did she have to do everything? She wasn’t the one sitting at home all day. He could have gone to the pharmacy. He could have gone grocery shopping. Hell, he could have done the dishes that were currently piled high in the sink. 

But Blair didn’t say any of this. She was too tired to fight. Her belly was making enough fuss as it was. She placed her hand on her abdomen, feeling it cramp and churn. She didn’t want to do this right now. Dakota was still wandering around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets. When he said her name, she realized that he was expecting more.

“Can we talk about this later? I had a terrible day, and I don’t feel well.”  

“What about dinner?” 

This time Blair did want to slam her hands on the counter. He wasn’t listening to her at all, only caring about his own needs. A sudden hiccup made her shoulders jump. The sound was half hiccup, half groan. “I really don’t care! I’m not hungry” —so very very far from being hungry— “Just do what you want.” 

“Oh okay, because you’re not hungry, everything is fine, then?” Dakota finally came to a stop, just long enough to glare at her. 

That might have been the first instance where he saw something wasn’t quite right with the way she looked. Kinda pale. Kinda shaky. But in the midst of the argument, his mind didn’t connect the pieces just yet, despite everything she’d been saying. He was still thinking about how his day might look tomorrow if he didn’t take his meds. “And it wasn’t your prescription so who cares, right?” 

God, Blair swore in her head, he was being so hypocritical right now. And sarcastic, and he kept putting words in her mouth. The last thing she wanted was anything in her mouth. But of course, he was feeding her words that she didn’t want, or think. Not only that, but she could feel bile rising in the back of her throat. 

“Kota—hic—please.” She hiccupped again, this time it brought with it a burp that coated her tongue in a slimy layer of saliva. “I don’t want to fight right now.” She wasn’t sure how long they were going to argue like this, but she was certain that her stomach would not last long before sending up her lunch. 

“Well, I don’t want to fight either but—” Dakota paused as she stood up from the stool and started to walk away. Honestly it was closer to a jog. As she passed him, she burped wetly into her hand. It did not sound good. Dakota grimaced at how sick that burp sounded. Now she was more than just kinda pale. More than kinda shaky. “Are—are you okay?” 

She had to sneer at this. “Like you care.” 

“Of course, I care,” Dakota said as he followed her down the hall. Damn she was moving fast now. Something was not right. “For real, babe, are you alright?” 

Blair did not answer him. She was too busy gagging into her hand. Her belly lurched but she managed to keep the sick from spilling past her lips, at least until she made it to the bathroom. 

She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, letting out a gush of pale orange liquid. Hot vomit burned her throat before splashing into the water below. 

“Oh.” Dakota stood frozen in the doorway. “Shit.” 

More sick gurgled up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut as the next heave rocked her forward. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the bowl. Each wave made tears leak onto her cheeks.

There was no chance to catch her breath in between bouts. It just kept coming. Her poor belly was spasming painfully, like a rag being wrung out to release the liquid trapped inside. 

“Ugh God,” she mumbled as a harsh retch made her hair fall down by her face. 

Dakota snapped out of his shock, perhaps realizing that he had soon-to-be husbandly duties, one of which was holding his soon-to-be wife’s hair back. He knelt beside her and gathered her hair up in his hand. With his free hand, he traced his fingers up and down her spine. “Okay, alright,” he muttered as he patted her back. “Get that shit up.” 

She was shaking and burning up beneath his touch. He could feel the heat on the back of her neck from where he held her hair.

For a while longer, she stayed on her knees, too afraid to move from her spot. 

Eventually, Blair let out a deep burp. It rumbled in her chest and made her shiver with a new spike of nausea. Another gag had her pitching forward. Nothing came up this time except for frothy saliva. She groaned and spat into the toilet.  

She sighed heavily, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and leaned back against the wall. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Ugh, I feel horrible.” 

Dakota settled into a better position as well, groaning as he pulled his feet out from under him to sit cross-legged. He took in the sight of her wan complexion “Oh Bee, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sick.” He wore a look of pure guilt and never took his hand off her thigh. “Are you okay?”

Blair made a low humming noise in her throat as if to say no and shook her miserably. “Mm-mm. M-My stomach...” She kept her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around her belly. 

He felt like kicking himself. “I know. You’re really not feeling well at all.” 

Blair cracked an eye open. “So, you did hear me say that.” It wasn’t really a question—more of a trap that Dakota was sure to fall into. 

He stuttered. “I—I was being an asshole and I wasn’t listening to you.” 

She shook her head at him. “That was the first right thing you said to me since I got home.” 

“I feel like a jerk.” 

“Oh, that’s because you’re a jerk.” 

Dakota gave her a sad, puppy-dog look. “I’m really sorry, you know that right?” 

“Maybe…” 

“Mmh? Okay…” He moved closer to her and kissed her forehead. “Do you forgive me now?” He kissed her nose. “Or maybe now?” Finally, he picked up her hand and gave it the softest of kisses. “How about now?” he whispered.

Blair looked down in an attempt to conceal her smile, but Dakota lifted her chin back up. He wore the cheekiest grin. 

“Ah I see that smile.” He kissed her nose again before backing up to give her space. “Ah you love me again,” he said in sing-song voice. 

“I never stopped, idiot,” Blair said. Then she got serious for a second. “But you can’t just kiss me to make it all okay.” 

“But I kissed you even though you’re covered in germs.” The look she gave him made him throw his hands up in surrender. “But you’re right. You’re right. I’ll pick up my own damn prescription right now and then go grocery shopping.” 

“Thank you. But first…” 

“Yes?” 

“Help me to bed.” 

#emeto #emetophilia #emetophile #sickfic #vomit fic #vomit kink #emetophiliac #emeto fiction #emeto fic #my ocs #Dakota #Blair #female sickee #female emeto #fever #stomach flu #stomach flu fic #stomach bug #stomach bug fic #stomach ache #stomach ache fic #vomiting #puking #puking kink #puke kink #puke without plot #angst fic #hurt/comfort #h/c

[alyswritings]

Outcast

Request: sister x druig where she is feeling sad and left out by the eternals

Druig x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N feels down and Druig helps her.

Warnings: none really

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Y/N sits back and watches as the rest of the eternals talk and laugh with each other. Lately it seems like she's always getting ignored or just left out. She knows they more than likely don't mean to... well, most of them. She could see Ikaris doing it on purpose.

Y/N only looks a few years older than Sprite, having the appearance of a teenager. The 'second youngest' girl decides she's had enough of staring at her family sadly and she slinks back to the lonely comfort of her room.

Y/N lies on her bed, her head at the end. She lets her head hang off the end of the bed, able to see her door upside down. She doesn't know how long she's alone until she hears a voice in her head.

You could try to talk to any of us instead of being all sulky.

Get out of my head, Druig.

"You shouldn't think so loudly, then." She hears the familiar voice and opens her eyes to see Druig in the doorway upside down. "Is the blood not rushing to your head?"

"Leave me alone." Y/N grumbles, closing her eyes again.

She listens to his footsteps grow closer and she hears him sit on the floor next to her.

"You're not leaving me alone." Y/N says, still not opening her eyes.

"Now why would I do that?" Druig questions.

Y/N opens her eyes, rolling them, and turning her head to face her brother.

"You're annoying." She tells him. Druig smirks in amusement which only bothers the girl further. "Go back to the others, please."

"And leave you to be all pouty?" Druig asks.

"I am not pouty." Y/N huffs.

"Hmm. You look pouty." Druig says and Y/N glares at him. "Though I suppose being upside down, you are technically smiling from my angle."

"So look at it that way and leave." Y/N orders.

"You know... if you're feeling left out, you could just say something." Druig suggests.

"Why would I want to do that?" Y/N asks.

"So you don't feel left out." Druig says.

"Yes, but then everybody knows how I feel. And I don't want that. It's... it's annoying." Y/N says.

"I know how you feel." Druig counters.

"Only cause you're observant and don't know how to mind your own mind." Y/N grumbles.

"As I said, you should think quieter." Druig says.

"If you're just going to piss me off, then leave."

"Why do you feel left out?" He asks.

"Druig..."

"Either you tell me or I'm reading your mind again."

Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes at his persistence.

"Everybody has somebody." Y/N says.

"What do ya mean by that?" Druig asks.

"Well... you have Kingo and Sprite... who are, like, best friends... or whatever. Then you have Sersi and Ikaris... yuck." She says making Druig chuckle. "And Gilgamesh and Thena are their own little thing. Then Phastos is always working... or with Ajak, I guess. And Ajak's like a mom and the leader, so she's always off doing responsible, important stuff. And then there's you and Makkari and your constant flirty behavior. I have nobody."

"You have me." Druig offers.

"Did you not just hear any of that?" Y/N asks.

"If you want my attention, just ask. Or... you know, think." Druig says.

"You'd stop spending time with Makkari to spend time with me?" Y/N asks.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Druig asks.

"You were worried, it's different." Y/N says.

"True, but... still. The offer stands." Druig tells her. Y/N wishes she could read his mind to know if he's actually serious. "I mean it." He promises.

"Okay." Y/N mutters.

"So... we can either stay in here... or we could go back out there join in the conversations." Druig says.

"Not really in a social mood." Y/N mutters.

"Yeah. Me neither." Druig agrees.

"Do you have any food on you?" Y/N asks, looking over at him. Druig smirks and pulls out a handful of grapes. Y/N grins and rolls onto her stomach, letting Druig drop the grapes into her hand. The two begin to munch on the snacks provided by the mind reader.

"I hate emotions." Y/N declares.

"So do I." Druig agrees.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse

#druig #druig x sister reader #druig x sister!reader #marvel eternals #druig eternals

[queenfinehair]

Chapter two

Warnings: None

Song Mood

Disclaimer: gif not mine, it belongs To

Now

"I wish for you to join me after the crowd has left." Harald holds gently onto your arm as you set his plate down in front of him. "As usual, Y/N, this is delicious."

"King Harald," you laugh softly and shake your head, "you have not yet tasted the lamb. I thank you, all the same. I will see you tonight." A short bow to the man and you remove yourself from the company and back into the shelter of the kitchen.

Being the cook for Harald came about only by chance a short while after you had arrived in town, that was five years ago. You knew his tastes of food, how often he drank and when he wanted to be alone. He preferred red meat and lamb was a favorite of his. He liked mead and wine compared the piss bitter taste of the local made ale. And he was conscious of his diet, although he did indulge at least once a month.

"He wishes to see you? Again?" The woman called Garda asked with a hidden smile. Today would mark the second occasion that Harald has requested you alone.

"Yes, again. For what purpose I'm still unsure of, although he complimented the meal far before first taste." With the food having been served, it was now time to wash away the mess that comes with preparing such a large feast. Another successful raid had been announced and with success comes much food and drink.

A celebration was taking place for the riches the men and women had claimed and you were kept busy all day, since just after sunrise. The animals had been freshly slaughtered, skinned and most innards were thrown away, save for the few edible parts that the Kings brother preferred.

Laughter and merriment were in abundance as you and the fair woman Garda peek from afar after cleaning had been finished. Your hands were scrubbed clean and the only thing left to do was freshen up your clothing, to be at least somewhat presentable to a king.

-----

Harald was picking off the last of a grape before you enter the hall with confidence, smiling your greeting as you reach him. His hair was back into a now messy braid that you wished to fix but that was another subject entirely.

"Hello, Y/N, thank you for seeing me. Please, sit." There is a happy slur to his speech that brings a brighter smile to your face as you sit down at the long table, taking in the servants as they clean about the mess in the hall. "Leave us, you may finish tomorrow. " Harald escorts the women out of the building before closing the large doors to the hall.

Harald takes his time to rejoin you, walking slowly, almost in deep thought, you think. Your first meeting had been after a meal, just not one quite so extraordinary. He had paid compliments to your cooking and for always giving him an extra portion of meat without being asked. For your service to him and the people he dined with.

"King Harald, what is it I can do for you tonight? I appreciate the invitation, of course, but it is late... I am afraid I'm very tired." Your words are cautious but knowing breakfast comes early, you need the sleep.

"Of course," he begins, "I just wanted the company before I retire. Your presence... it calms me." Harald admits this with a sheepish glance towards you as he sits, groaning. "The meal, once I tasted it that is, was the best I've had so far. You outdid yourself tonight, lady."

A small blush creeps from the back of your neck and moves to your cheeks as you look down at the table. "Thank you, my King. It is an honor to serve you, truly." You had assumed it was the drink to bring about the softness but this is not the first time Harald has offered you kindness.

"Do you remember the story you had told me the last time I was with you?" He asks all at once, tapping the table before leaning back into his chair. "The one about the village? I do not remember you finishing it and I wish to hear it over again. Follow me?" Harald stands up tall as he pushes the chair behind him, using an arm to lead you into the room behind the hall itself.

Grand but not boasting in extravagance, the room is really quite simple. A large bed with furs lying upon it, a small desk with a few lit candles. There is a small closet you can just see, holding what can only obviously be the Kings wardrobe.

Harald begins by ushering you to sit at the edge of the bed before going to another small table. Picking up a wooden comb, he comes to your side. "I wish you to tell me the story again, but I also need my hair brushed. The woman who attends to me is absent only now and I was wondering-"

"Of course, my King. I shall be happy to oblige." You take the comb from his calloused hand and stand, "you take a seat, I will see to your hair and tell you a most extraordinary tale."

Harald sits on the edge of the bed, relaxing as you undo the messy braid on his head. His eyes close briefly and a small sigh escapes his lips as you begin to work the comb through his hair slowly, carefully.

"There was once a girl in a village. A simple farm girl who loved the chickens especially..." the comb works through the long hair of the King as you recount your childhood to the man. A few times his head slips down and you know you're putting him to sleep, a feeling that gives your stomach a lurch.

"One day, shortly after morning meal... there was a cry from far off," you begin the end of that life and begin to braid Harald's hair once more.

"Brother!" The voice belonging to a man named Halfdan comes from the hall, a sense of urgency to it and Harald groans loudly. You swallow the lump in your throat and shake your head, "King Harald?" You venture.

With the last of his hair braided, Harald stands, "I am sorry, lady. Please, stay and I shall be right back. I'm sure it is nothing."

"Harald I must sleep-"

"So sleep. I will not disturb you and you will be awake in time. Please, sleep, Y/N."

Once he leaves the room, only then do you let out the sob you've been holding onto. So close, yet so far out of truth still.

Tags: @naaladareia

#my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #harald x reader #harald x female reader #harald finehair x reader #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ongoing series #be free my fic #be free

[the-character-lounge]

From Compliments to Arguments

 "Oh just shut up." Spinel pulled out a jug of milk and sniffed it, then drank a little straight from the container and smacked his lips in thought. "Mm. You know what your problem is?" He turned around, shutting the fridge door with a hoof and bumping the jug against Randy's chest with his words for emphasis. "You're. Scared. Shitless. Of anything that makes you interesting."

Randy took the jug from him, feeling a bit confused. There he was, being mean again. He didn’t quite understand and he took a sip from the jug also, his brow furrowed. “Wh- What does that m- mean?” he asked, setting the jug back down on the counter top. He genuinely didn’t know what he meant. Hell, Randy didn’t even realize that Spinel thought he was interesting at all.

 "You chucked a bag of rotten eggs out of an appartment window, Randy. That's fucking gold and you're just shitting on it." He shook his head.

 “I-.. well, I- just.. felt…” he sighed. There was no point in arguing. Plus Spinel was kind of right, he was kind of being a buzzkill.”.. never mind,” he replied, feeling a bit awkward as he softly tapped the counter top.

He opened some pantries and pulled the fridge open again with his magic, standing to the side in presentation. "Take your pick." Most everything he had was things that could be made easily but it was all the best quality of what he could get. There was even a small jar of never touched truffles that he bought just for the hell of having them.

As he kept to the side to let Randy pick what to eat, he continued his point. "Okay, listen, I'll make it easy for you. Say I'm at a party, right? And I'm trying to get laid or something so I want to talk about something interesting. I sure as fuck am not going to talk about the guy who throws his trash out every morning and goes to work to do his job well. Now, if I said 'I know this guy who threw his trash out the window and hit a poodle on accident', that's going to get some heads turning." He waved his hoof around dramatically and passionately as he spoke. "What's so special about a do-good lawyer when I can talk about one who fucks ponies in elevators?"

Randy’s ear twitched, and his hoof stopped tapping on the counter. “.. O- Oh, y- yes. I- I understand now…” he looked up at Spinel, his face expressionless. What in the hell did that mean? Was he just a fuckin’ ice breaker? Was that all Randy was to Spinel? Just some kind of sick joke? But he tried to be patient, swallowing down his anger. ‘Spinel’s just trying to have a conversation with me.. he’s not being mean on purpose,’ he rationalized, trying to keep his eye from twitching. He closed his eyes for a moment, and forced the anger deep down inside of him. Over the course of many years, he learned that this was the best way to avoid conflict. Bury it deep and away from the light. Don’t let any pony know just how upset you are… how unfair everything is… how angry you are. He stared into the pantry, his left eye twitching a bit. He reached up and rubbed it, trying to conceal it as his other eye searched the pantry. “.. Pasta sounds good,” he said flatly, gesturing with his free hoof towards a package on the shelf nearest Spinel.

".... Yeah." Spinel sounded a bit disappointed here, shaking his head slowly and looking away. He chewed his lip in thought, going to the fridge to get some grape leaves and parmesian cheese. He put the cheese on the counter and sat down at the island of the kitchen. If Randy didn't think those were unique and interesting traits, and he was scared shitless of having them, it meant he could hiding all sorts of things. And for some reason that really offended Spinel, angry that there was somepony keeping that from him. He opened the jar and stared at its contents. "Today though...." He softened. Just a little bit but he did. "I'm not forgetting today."

Randy got up and took the pasta. “Here, let me help.” He placed the package near the stove, and then searched some of the cupboards for a pot to start boiling the water. He kept trying to tell himself that Spinel didn’t mean it, he was just trying to be nice. But, it was really hard to see it that way. Finding a cast iron pot, he brought it over to the sink and began filling it with water, his left eye calming down a bit. He looked over his shoulder at Spinel. “What was that?” he asked, having heard him say something, but not very clearly, his own thoughts distracting him a bit.

His mouth opened to respond but he locked up. Randy just wasn't listening to anything he was saying. Why was he bothering? He glared back and used his magic to levitate a leaf in to his mouth, chewing it loudly. "Fhooghay waf fuckin nuffths."

“… what?” Randy asked, setting the pot of water on the stove. He turned around and leaned against the counter beside the stove and raised a brow. “.. D- didn’t any pony t- teach y- you not t- to talk with y- your mouth full?” he teased, starting to feel a bit more calm.

He choked a moment and coughed, gulping down what he had roughly and patting his chest. "No, not really. I'm not eating for your sake so I'll do what I want with my food. Didn't anypony teach you to mind your own business...?" Now he was just being bitter about everything he said going to waste. Maybe next time, Randy would learn to pay attention.

 “.. H- Hey, I- I was just j- joking..” Randy said defensively, holding up his hoof. ‘Wh- what did I do to deserve that?’ he thought to himself, a bit perturbed by the snarky reply. He frowned and started starting preparing the pasta. ‘I- If anything, I should be the one snapping at him.’

"If you gave a shit you would have payed attention in the first place." he spoke nonchallantly, waving a hoof around in a dismissive manner. He wasn't going to waste his effort on this, all it did was make Randy even shittier and he was tired of seeing that. He was starting to wish he'd met him earlier.

Theo: And, like an ice cube, some of that anger slipped, and Randy set down the pasta in his hooves. “Oh, I- I’m sorry. I was j- just getting ov- over the fact th- that o- our little ‘private m-moment’ on the el- elevator i- is going t- to turn into s- some story y- you can tell t- to get y- you laid. ” he looked over at Spinel, his eyes a bit narrowed.

"What- No I--- What?" He turned around to face Randy in his chair, screwing his brows in conflict. His heart skipped a beat but stung right after. "What's wrong with it being a good story to tell? You practically devoured me alive in an elevator, who's going to compare to that?"

The last crack in the seal. “Ap- apparently, th- that’s not g- going to stop y- you from ‘going t- to a party and getting l- laid.’ A- And using o- our i- intimacy to do it..” Randy said as he picked up some of the pasta and placed it in the pot. It was cracking. He didn’t know why, but he was starting to fall apart.“What? A- Am I just some joke to you?”

 "It was an example!" his voice lifted, and he stood up. "I mean what the hell, you're just going to turn the elevator thing in to another fucking wall of excuses too? You fucked me in an elevator because you couldn't keep your hooves off me!" He made a mocking pout and big eyes, "But 'O-oh no, i-it was just in the moment, I-I was just turned on by a little complement b-because I'm desperate. S-sorry Mr. Spinel!'"

He was in shock. Spinel just mocked him, again. His hoof shook, and he slowly set down the pasta in his hoof. “… what is wr-wrong with y-you?” Randy asked, his eyes stinging as he turned to face Spinel. “What in th-the hell is wr-wrong with y- you!? Wh- Why are you such an asshole!!? A- and what ar- are you!? F- Four!?” He strutted towards where Spinel was sitting and scowled, slamming his hooves down on the counter. “Wh-Why is e- everything a- a contest wi- with you!? Wh- Why do you have t- to be more offended than me!? I- It’s not fair!!” Tears began to well up in his eyes, and he could feel every single bit of his body shaking. “I- Is it s- so fucking sh- shocking t- to you th- that some pony a- actually, tr- truly likes y- you a- and cares enough a- about you to w- want to be intimate with you!? E- Even i- if it’s on a fucking elevator??” Randy sneered, his eye twitching, his body just trembling with furious anger. “I- I will not j- just be an- another o- one of y- your f- fuck b- buddy stories! I- I do NOT want my f- feelings f- for you t- to be exploited! I- I won’t l- let you do that!” He sobbed a bit, but composed himself enough to scream. “I WON’T LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN!” He was crying now, every ounce of anger in his body finally bubbling to the surface. He stormed off, his head throbbing and his body shaking with anger.

Spinel's mouth opened and closed multiple times as Randy went on and on with his words. A couple of times he managed to get a 'th' or a 'b' out. He couldn't follow all of it, each time he tried to think over what Randy was saying, he said something else and it gave him no time to react. Once he was screaming, Spinel's back legs just gave out under him and he swiftly sat down in stunned silence. Thoughts were going so fast that it took him a moment to register that Randy even left, and when he did realize it it only added to the flurry of confusion and something that squeezed hard in the pit of his chest and dragged it's way in to his stomach. He took a few deep breaths, enraged that this whole time he didn't once have the voice he wanted to be heard. He shouted with all he could from his chest in a bellowing roar, "THEN JUST GO BACK TO BEING JUMPY, BORING FUCKING RANDY WHO DOESN'T HAVE A PAIR OF BALLS!!"

Randy barely made it out on to the terrace before collapsing, his body literally shaking to the bones with rage and pain. He managed to slide himself up against the balcony, and laid against it, sobbing softly as he pressed his forehead to his foreleg and cried. Those last words bit him, but no where near as much as the idea that he was some puppet to Spinel. He didn’t want to be just another pony that he had once did business with. He didn’t want his name being tossed around. He hated feeling used, he hated feeling like he didn’t matter to any pony. He did all the caring, but it felt like no pony cared about him. Randy tried to get up, knowing that Spinel would probably want him to leave. But each time he tried, he collapsed again, reduced to a shivering, curled up mess.

He was so fucking pathetic.

Boring. Weak. Hopelessly infatuated.

He was a lost cause.

Spinel sat there for some time, staring at the floor. What was the point of being more open if his words didn't mean anything? Randy just had to make it all about himself in all the wrong ways when all he was trying to do was make him stop slapping himself around over the things that made him special. He used a bad example, thinking it made sense to weigh how interesting a pony was in that way. It didn't mean he was going to do it, but wasn't that why ponies even bothered sharing dirty stories in the first place? To get a one night stand? He was Spinel, he didn't need dumb shit to talk about to get a good fuck. Why would Randy even think he'd waste time like that when he could just grab their asses and pin them to a wall?

And why was he being accused of using him? Randy was the one who came on to him in the elevator. Randy was the one who supposedly wanted him bad enough for it. All he saw was this confusing mess that he couldn't figure out. At least when he said he was an asshole who would fuck ponies on elevators to get his way it was something he could relate to but that pony was clearly gone. But was he really? He stared off for a while, then got up slowly, using his magic to make sure the pasta was still going before he walked out. He levitated a bottle over to Randy, one of those scotch whiskeys he found displayed behind glass in a store. Really he just liked the bottle design and the fact that it was made with a gold seal and diamonds, which was why he bought it. Plus, it seemed to impress ponies to see it. He didn't say anything, just stared at him expectantly.

 Randy pulled his face away from his foreleg and saw the bottle. “.. wh- what i- is this? A p- peace offering?” he sniffled and sat up a bit, still shaking as he tried to appear a bit dignified. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, his hoof still shaking obviously. He stared at the bottle, and took it, nodding weakly at Spinel, but not opening it. He set it down on his lap and just stared back at him. He must’ve looked quite a sight. So small and helpless, possibly even a little scared. It made him kind of sick. He closed his eyes, and let out a long, shaky breath through his nose.

"Just so you know..." he said in a low, apathetic voice. "You're a bastard and you got everything I was saying wrong." There was, just for a moment, a crack in his voice towards the end there. Just a crack but a scratch none the less and a wound was a wound. He turned away and walked back to the kitchen to continue what Randy started.

#spinel #rp snippet

[occupyhades]

Operation Deimos: The Abyss of Behemoth

Operation Deimos keeps track of the Agents of Behemoth: The Backstabbing Parasites of Corporate Personhood.

The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and it was allowed to scorch people with fire. They were seared by the intense heat and they cursed the name of God, who had control over these plagues, but they refused to repent and glorify him. Apocalypse 16:8-9 (NIV)

‘Cursed is he who strikes down his neighbor in secret.’ And let all the people say, ‘Amen!’ Deuteronomy 27:24 (BSB) 

The heavens will expose his guilt; the earth will rise up against him. A flood will carry off his house, rushing waters on the day of God’s wrath. Such is the fate God allots the wicked, the heritage appointed for them by God. Job 20:27-29 (NIV)

I have called for a drought on your fields and hills—a drought to wither the grain and grapes and olive trees and all your other crops, a drought to starve you and your livestock and to ruin everything you have worked so hard to get. Haggai 1:11 (NLT)

Behold, the storm of the LORD has gone out with fury, a whirlwind swirling down upon the heads of the wicked. The anger of the LORD will not turn back until He has fully accomplished the purposes of His heart. In the days to come you will understand this clearly. Jeremiah 23:19-20 (BSB)

“And now, you priests, this warning is for you. If you do not listen, and if you do not resolve to honor my name,” says the LORD Almighty, “I will send a curse on you, and I will curse your blessings. Yes, I have already cursed them, because you have not resolved to honor me." Malachi 2:1-2 (NIV)

And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne. And there were open books, and one of them was the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their deeds, as recorded in the books. Apocalypse 20:12 (BSB)

#climate change #climate emergency #climate crisis #global warming #sloth #damnation

[cosmicanamnesis]

OOhhh I would love to hear about your hate for the Scarlet Letter!! I read Wide Sargasso Sea from the list in the post and it was okay. Written like a classic so not always the easiest to understand. And I had to read it for a class, which usually make me dislike the books more. Crazy as I am getting a degree in English and literature classes are my favorite.

see that was the only one on the list i'd never actually heard of so i might have to look into it. but yeah i was in the "I'm Here For English/Art/Choir And Nothing Else" camp in school. most of the classics we had to read i either threw my whole ass into (see: The Grapes of Wrath) or i'd give it a couple chapters and then sparknotes it from there (sorry Great Gatsby. baz luhrmann made a very entertaining movie out of u tho)

anyway this song is called I Will Raise Nathaniel Hawthorne From The Grave Just To Kill Him Again (under a read more bc this literally does not matter nd if u liked The Scarlet Letter u can just scroll right on by)

fair warning: this is not a scholarly essay, this is a shitty opinion piece that i'm writing while drinking cheap shit that might maybe qualify as whiskey. that's what you're getting here.

anyway.

my beef with TSL has... frankly very little to do with the actual content of the story, other than the story is just dead fucking boring.

puritans as a subject are boring, esp if you grew up as a person being persecuted by The Church(tm) in modern america (i say, making my first unfounded broad sweeping generalization of the night). like, yeah, No Shit they were religious extremists, have you seen the legacy they left? in that way i can understand how the contemporary or modern reader is supposed to feel sympathetic towards hester. the story is presented like "look at these crazies, look how they treat their women and their community," as if we're not doing the same shit in a different font to this day. pick a point in american history, you'll find hester and pearl there because as a society by and large we have barely progressed.

not to mention the focus of the story is on hester's relationships with dimmesdale and chillingworth more than, yknow, her own development as a fully realized person (rather than a representaion of Theoretical Complexity; a person can be both Sinful and Virtuous). because she isn't one. neither is pearl. pearl, willful and impish, is the personification of hester's sin. pearl is a prop.

does that all make the story timeless? yes, in the worst possible way.

hawthorne explores what it means to be ostracized in the most, like, affluent white boy way. like a frat bro doing shrooms and discovering empathy, hawthorne wrote the scarlet letter to show the concept of Sin And Consequences in a way that other affluent white guys might actually pick up on and say hey yeah that is a little fucked and make them realize other people are, in fact, people. if you are not in that specific demographic (which i can only hope was a purposeful target audience to teach them that message and not hawthorne himself realizing this for the first time) the philosophy is pretty fuckin weak. or. not so much Weak as it is Shallow, but ultimately it's both.

all to say, i was pretty clearly not the target audience here, and i think i have a pretty valid reason to not give a fuck abt TSL. that is not the reason why i so passionately hate this book.

the town i'm from has a pretty significant mormon population. i don't know if you know anything about mormons, but basically, LDS tradition has rules clearly outlining under what circumstances a person is meant to be shunned by the church. one of those conditions is apostasy, when a member officially leaves or is forcibly removed from the church and is declared an apostate by the temple. why do i know this? my best friend for a long time went through this process when they were 16 and living with me because their family kicked them out for being queer. not too long after this, TSL was assigned reading, and the class i was in was like 80% Assorted Christian denominations, the major one being... ding ding ding the fucking mormons.

so. put yourself in my spot. you are having Teacher-Lead Discussions about the topics and morals in TSL and on one side you have queer kids, atheists, Intelligent Troublemakers, etc, and on the other side you have a Protestant Army led by a Mormon Vanguard. nothing will make you hate a book like a dozen kids with absolutely no self awareness.

that segment pretty much boiled down to

"wow can you believe how CrAzY the Church(tm) used to be? :P"

"uh... yeah... you haven't changed."

"WHAT? pshhh OUR denomination is Nothing like /that/, women can wear pants outside of church activities now!"

"ok how do you feel about adultery when one's husband is presumed dead?"

"well. uh."

so to conclude: the Scarlet Letter is a very shallow criticism of early american puritan doctrine and the way that it's treated as a deeply profound classic is more of a reflection on the modern White Patriarchy than it is on the Puritans. and dont get me wrong, i think it's a pretty good subject for a high school lit class, if for no other reason than it teaches kids to recognize how morals and ideals are passed down even over hundreds of years. its a perfect example of that.

book fuckin sucks tho

#i might have more thoughts and reblog this to add them later #if anybody has further questions feel free to ask #im also open to defenses and alternate interpretations of tsl #its another one of those books that im like... i should probably give it another shot #but the first attempt was kinda tainted #so idk #read more #ask #anonymous

[justanothersimp21]

Hi!!! How are you? Can I request a lol fluff between Alcina x Reader where the reader just wants to be held like all day? Holding hands, hugging, cuddling, being held by Alcina.

I’m doing good and yes, of course you can request this!

I’m finally getting some of the requests done! 😌

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hummed as you plopped yourself down in your lady’s lap, your back to her front.

A small chuckle tickled your right ear as two arms wrapped around your waist, “Hello, draga mea.”

“Good afternoon, Alci,” You murmured happily in response.

“You’re in a rather good mood,” Your wife mused as her hold around you tightened ever so slightly.

“With you holding me like this, how can I not be?” You inquired cheekily as you perked up at the sight of a bowl filled with grapes in front of you on the desk.

You reached out and snapped some of the fruit from its stems and popped them into your mouth, eating them happily.

You already knew Alcina had purposely put them there for you to snack on, because you had a bad habit of forgetting to eat whenever you joined your wife in her study for long periods of the day. That is, whenever you had time to.

With a hum, you turned your head and placed a loving kiss on your wife’s cheek, “The grapes are delicious.”

“Good,” Your wife murmured softly as she in turn, placed a kiss on top of your head as you went back to snacking, “Only the best for you, draga mea.”

Alcina went back to work while keeping a hand around your waist. On occasion, she would squeeze your waist and press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You soaked in her attention and kept nibbling on some grapes before deeming yourself full. A maid later came inside the study with a large glass of water and a wine glass.

You nodded your head to her in thanks as she left before picking up the glass of water and gulping it down.

Alcina would take a sip of her wine every time she finished with writing one of her documents, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

When you noticed she was on her very last document, you perked up.

Feeling your excitement, your wife chuckled and held a mischievous glint in her eyes. You narrowed your gaze when her hand movement went slower than usual as she wrote down Romanian words on the piece of paper.

You gently nudged her and frowned, “Hey, you’re doing that on purpose.”

“Whatever am I doing?” Your wife questioned innocently as she continued to slowly drag her pen down in slow methodical strokes.

“Alci,” You crossed your arms and sent her a stern glance.

“Alright, my love,” She let out a little laugh and kissed your temple before her writing picked up in pace, “So impatient.”

“You’ve been so busy lately and you said we could go on a walk together in the garden after you’re done with your papers,” You grumble lowly, remembering her promise to you a few days prior.

You see each other everyday but most of it was stolen glances and small smiles. Your duty as the head maid kept you busy training the new maids or spending time bonding with the three daughters.

There haven’t been many new maids lately which allowed you some free time but that’s when Alcina’s workflow increased, leaving you to wait to spend time with her.

You understand that she’s a very busy woman but you miss her.

You miss spending quality time with her.

And that doesn’t include sitting on her lap waiting for her to be done with her documents.

Understanding you were actually getting a bit upset, Alcina gently grabbed ahold of your chin and tilted your head to make sure you were locking eyes.

“I was merely jesting, draga,” She sent you a warm smile, “I didn’t forget about my promise. I’ll be done in one minute and we shall go on our walk.”

Her golden eyes gleamed, her laugh lines prominent as she leaned in and gave you a kiss. You closed your eyes and melted against her, humming softly before reopening your eyes as she pulled away. The two of you shared matching smiles as she went back to writing.

True to her word, Alcina made quick work of her last paper and added it to her pile of finished documents before nuzzling herself into the side of your neck.

Her lips brushed against a certain claiming mark on your skin causing you to shiver lightly. A low chuckle hit your left ear as the grip around your waist tightened.

“I believe I owe you a walk.”

You’re glad that you were seated in her lap otherwise your knees would’ve buckled by how low and raspy her voice was.

. . .

As the two of you stepped outside of the castle and into the garden, you couldn’t stop the large grin from erupting on your face.

“I can never get tired of this view,” You claim with a hint of awe in your tone as you observe the beautiful castle grounds.

You were thankful that it was spring, you wouldn’t have lasted a second during the winter temperatures. Everything seemed to be in full bloom and the trees were as green as they could be.

Whoever is the groundskeeper of the castle is truly dedicated and talented.

“Neither can I,” You heard your wife mutter under her breath in agreement but when you turned to face her, you realized with a start that she was staring straight at you when she agreed.

Getting flustered, you wordlessly turned your attention back to the garden, looking everywhere except at her as your brain short circuited.

Alcina chuckled at your nervous display and took your hand in hers, leading you down the path through the plants and flowers.

The two of you laughed and shared some random stories that have happened in your lifetime as you leisurely strolled around the area.

You occasionally swung your interlocking hands in a dramatic way causing Alcina to playfully shake her head at you. You can tell she enjoyed it whenever you did though.

It just felt so amazing to finally be able to spend time with your wife. No work, no interruptions. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Time flew by and suddenly the sun was already set, the moon now shining down at the two of you. You shivered lightly as the temperature dropped, Alcina immediately noticing. She started leading you back towards the castle’s entrance.

“It appears we missed dinner,” Your wife stated as her eyes glowed in the night, “I didn’t even realize the time. I’ll have the chef prepare you something to eat as soon as we go back inside.”

You were way more tired than hungry but knew better than to argue with Alcina about such matters.

“Okay,” You murmured as a little yawn escaped you, your footsteps starting to drag against the path.

The matriarch let go of your hand causing a frown to form on your face. It disappeared rather quickly when you were suddenly scooped up into her arms, a warm kiss being pressed into your temple, “Allow me to carry you, draga mea.”

A smile adorned your lips as you sighed in content and nuzzled your face into her neck. The smell of her perfume mixed with the barest hint of metal invaded your senses.

You hummed against her neck as you closed your eyes, feeling completely comfortable as she carried you bridestyle back to the castle.

The evening had been truly magnificent.

Although the two of you probably don’t spend as much time with each other as a normal couple should, whenever you did spend time with each other, everything felt so natural. It was as if no time passed from the last time both of you really talked to one another.

“You’re not sleeping just yet, are you?” Your wife asked playfully as she took notice of your closed eyes.

You let out a little giggle and shook your head before opening your eyes, “Mmm not yet.”

“Good. You need to eat first.”

Another warm kiss was pressed on your temple, making you melt in her arms.

Even though the day ended, you found yourself excited for the next time the two of you spend time together. Whether it be another walk or something extravagant, you looked forward to pass time with your wife.

————

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x you #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x you #lady dimitrescu x reader #fluff #requested #two wives take a walk together #resident evil village #re8

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you ever want to do a "Top 10 home gardening tomato cultivars" segment, I'm here for it. (My folks mostly plant Early Girls, but they have a ridiculously short growing season up there. I grow Sweet 100s, because they taste good enough and I gave up on growing anything other than cherries due to bastard squirrels who like to take exactly one bite out of larger tomatoes.)

OH

IT IS NOW TIME TO INFO DUMP

CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED

Ok so the actual thing with tomatoes is there are- checks google- about 10,000 tomato cultivars out there and every single one of them is different, so you should tailor your tomato breeds to what you actually want to do with them.  10K is a lot a breeds to break down, but fortunately, there are ways to Do That:

1. Determinate vs. Indeterminate 

Determinate tomatoes grow to a genetically predetermined size and start fruiting.  Pros: Tends to have a short time between planting and fruiting, don’t get bigger than a certain size if you only have so much space. Cons: Once they’re done fruiting, that’s it. you really only get the one crop out of them.  Also tend to have sad, watered-down flavor.

Indeterminate tomatoes grow as big as the space will let them, and start fruting when they get around to it. Pros: Maximum Plant for minimum investment, which can be like 10x as big as a determinate plant. Will KEEP fruiting until it gets too cold, so if you can get it in a pot you can move inside you could potentially still be harvesting tomatoes after thanksgiving like my MIL was this year.  If you live somewhere warm like SoCal or AZ, you could keep it alive all year. Cons: MUCH longer time between planting and fruiting.  Indeterminate tomates Get there when they get there. Also may be more prone to disease and pests than the more-modified determinate plants.

There are determinate and indeterminate tomatoes in all 5 of the Greater Tomato Archetypes.  Speaking of:

2. The 5 Tomato Archetypes

I’m so good at segues! 

So tomatoes come in 5 basic types, each which is generally better for something culinary than the others.  You CAN substitute different types of tomato but your food generally doesn’t come out as good.

1. Cherry: Cherry tomatoes produce fruits that are about the size of cherries.  Some people put Grape and Saladette tomatoes in here but they are WRONG, both of those belong in the “Round/All-Purpose” group because Cherry tomatoes specifically have thinner skins, more soluable pectin, and more dissolved glutemates, which means they cook VERY differently.  Cherry tomatoes also produce a shitload of fruits at a time and might be some of the heaviest producers.  Tend to be more heat-tolerant. Good For:  Fresh tomato sauces (i.e. takes less than 20 minutes to make), salads, snacking on directly off the vine like you are a small tarsier discovering a hidden bounty of fruit.

Top reccomendations are: -Indigo Cherry or Dwarf Black Krim if you can find it. I always reccomend dark-pigmented tomatoes as I find they have better flavor, pest resistence and UV tolerance. Taste fruity but not over-sweet and Very Tomato-y.  -Sweet 100/Super-Sweet 100/Sweet Millions: All varietals of the same mass-producing Cherry Tomato. Makes absolute buckets of Tomatoes, sweeter and more fruity than the Indigo cherry, good disease resistence and long growing season.

2. Paste: Paste tomatoes are thin-skinned, meaty and soft tomatoes that... well, they make good tomato paste, the basis for all long-cooking tomato sauces and recipies. They tend to be kind of Oblong and sometimes grow in fun extras like lil tomato “dicks” or weird cthulian shapes, but this doesn’t effect the flavor or nutrition There’s a shitload of great varietals in this category, I’ve yet to hear of a Bad Paste Tomato, just Less Excellent ones.   Good For: Long-cooking Tomato-based dishes like: Bolognese, chili, ketchup, BBQ etc.  Also can and freeze well.

Top Reccomendations are: -Amish Paste: MEATY, and well-suited for growing in a variety of conditions.  Paste is smooth and velvety.  Good for Chili, BBQ and Bolognese. -Opalka tomato: Russian Tomato, little more on the acidic side, grows well in places prone to surprise late frosts.  Paste isn’t as smooth but very thick. makes great ketchup. -San Marzano: THE tomato for making Marinara Sauce (also does good bolognese). Sweeter and lighter, with a slightly runnier paste that clings well to pasta. cans and freezes excellently, does well in places with HOT summers.

3. Beef: Beef tomatoes are BIG motherfuckers that kind of take a long time to grow but are very rewarding.  Beef tomatoes are firm, have a very solid meat and are best eaten raw, typically sliced onto a sandwich or seared under a broiler for a NZ Mousetrap. Not only are the fruits big but so are the Plants, so they take a long time to reach maturity and the fruit takes FOREVER to ripen but if you like a sandwich, they can’t be beat.  Also they look hella impressive on instagram. They also tend to be more prone to Blossom End Rot (which is just a calcium deficiency- just make sure to fertilize with some eggshells and don’t over-water them), and despite the size, don’t tolerate cold well. Good for: Slicing on sandwiches, eating raw like you’re biting into the still-beating heart of your nemesis and enjoying that sweet, sweet revenge, searing quickly under a broiler or putting on a Kabob.

Top Reccomendations Are: -Brandywine: Hefty, great fresh tomato flavor, and PINK.  -Big Zac: Goddamn Massive Tomato. A Real Heckin’ Chonker. meatier flavor and lots of firm flesh with few seeds. -Beefmaster: One problem with Beef tomatoes is that a lot of them are heirloom varietals that aren’t as widely available. Of the ones that are easy to get your hands on, Beefmaster is the best, but it lacks the flavor punch of Brandywine or Big Zac, but it’s not a BAD tomato.

4. Round/Early/All-Purpose: The Workhorse of Tomatoes, the Round Tomato does it all- sauces, salsa, sandwiches, salads, and snacks.  But it doesn’t do them quite as well as the other, more specialized tomatoes.  Also, some of these tomatoes have been Over-Worked and bred to fruit early and transport well, at the expense of it’s Flavor.  I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU, EARLY GIRL AND BETTER BOY, YOU FLAVORLESS TENNIS BALLS, YOU INSULTS TO THE MIGHTY HOUSE OF NIGHTSHADES. Love yourself, don’t get Early Girl or Better Boy. If your season is too short for anything but the earliest of tomatoes, it may be better to grow Something Else than put all that effort in for Disappointment. That said, there are many types of Round/All-Purpose tomatoes that haven’t been overbred into corporate blandness, and I can reccomend them in good concisence if you’re not totally sure what you want to do with your tomatoes: Good For: Indecisive people, people just learning how to grow plants, using one plant for a variety of purposes, people who are not yet prepared to enter the world of Tomato Opinions. Top reccomendations are: -If you really must have an early-fruiting tomato, the Wayahead is an heirloom that people swear comes in early with good size, flavor and firm structure.  I have not personally tied this varietal but people I trust like it. -Black Krim: GOD-TIER TOMATO. It’s got it all- flavor, high yields, firm structure, pest and disease resistence, fucking purple stripes. Cans Well, Freezes well, seeds well and breeds true. Fuck yes. Other tomatoes fucking WISH they had what this Hot Bitch has. -Invincible is a damn-hard-to-kill tomato that isn’t very large but fruits reliably and preforms well all around.  it also ripens 3 fruits at a time so you’re not constantly overburdened with Tomato.  Probably my top pick for beginners that need an Emotional Support Crop.

5. Fun: This is not, strictly speaking, a traditional type of tomato, but I feel like it’s an important category for people who want to do something different or really enjoy all Tomatoes have to offer. Good For: Trying new things, taunting the garden gods with my hubris, showing off at the garden FB group, discovering new flavors of plant.

Top Reccomendations: -Mr. Stripey:  it has a goofy name, it’s yellow-and-pink striped, and it smells and tastes almost exactly like pineapple, but it doesn’t try to digest you back.  I love it. -Japanese Truffle: Dark Brown tomato that looks like someone tried to make ferro rochers at home and bungled it, and has a LONG maturation time, BUT it’s got a chocolately flavor and even at maturity has green insides which give it this. Lightness?  it’s hard to describe but it’s a fascinating flavor. The plant also is more branched and elegant than most tomatoes. Very different, very cool. -I have not personally tried Cherokee Purple but I have heard good things about it. We’ll see how it does in the garden this year. -Tomatillos and Ground Cherries:  Not actually tomatoes, but closely related. Neat herbaceous sort of flavor, like thyme but to the left.  Also comes in a fun Organic wrapping paper. -Ketchup ‘n’ Fries: a Sweet 100 tomato top grafted onto Kennebec Potato rootstock, so it grows both tomato AND potato!  Grafting was invented prbably about a week after the concept of agriculture was, and consists of taking two or more closely related plants and taping a cutting of oone into a hole in the other until the plants heal together.  Like that one gorilla-dude from Umbrella academy, but without the angst.  You can get them pre-made or attempt to make them at home if you’re feeling adventurous and are OK with potentially killing a bunch of starts while you learn.

Good Luck and Happy Gardening!

#Long post #tomatoes #the garden of earthly HOA violations #njelruch