#bc the daisy is wilting

[oetscop]

more scop........ this time featuring randice trying to comfort care NLM

[the-laughing-lunatic]

All 9 mercs w/ a reader who got them flowers! (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

(I recently got to 20 followers on this blog! :D I wanted to do a little something to celebrate that, so I grinded and wrote headcanons for all nine of the mercs. It, uh, took a while so I hope you enjoy!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout - Daisies☆

Legitimately starts tearing up

Tries to blame it on the flowers

“I ain’t cryin’ I- I’m just allergic to flowers.”

“Oh, sorry, I could just return them then—”

“What? You’d hafta take ‘em out of my dead hands, I’m keepin’ em.”

Isn’t a huge flower guy but the fact you went out of your way to get them for him makes him feel all warm inside

Reminds him of when his mom would pick flowers to give to him after his Little League games

☆Soldier - Poppies☆

Would aggressively compliment you

“THESE ARE DAMN BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS MAGGOT!! I FEEL IMMENSELY LOVED AND APPRECIATED!!!”

Seriously though, he does

Since he was never allowed in the military he always felt jealous of the soldiers who got special flowers

But he wasn’t now, because you respected him

And if you did, that was enough

☆Pyro - Sunflowers☆

ABSOLUTELY LOVES THEM

Well, you can’t hear what they’re saying but the flappy hands and excited noises give you a decent idea

Will just spend hours holding them in their hands and looking at the flowers like they’re the most beautiful thing in the world

Draws sunflowers in all their drawings now

If they accidentally burned them they would get so sad and give you flowers back as a form of apology

Make flower crowns with them. Do it. 

☆Demoman - Bluebells☆

Like most of the mercs, he’s never gotten flowers before 

And he has no clue how to take care of them

“Thank ye, but, would ye consider showin’ me how to take care of them?”

Help this man out

Please

He would probably put them just on a table with no vase or water without you

Y’all would put the flowers in an empty bottle of scrumpy <3

☆Heavy - Violas☆

“Little merc has present for Heavy?” 

Surprised, but not so much as Sniper

Honestly the most chill about it out of all the mercs

He has sisters so he knows how to take care of flowers but he’s never been the one to receive them

Would press the flowers once the start to wilt and make bookmarks so he can keep them forever (sap)

And if he’s more protective of you during matches, who's to say the reason why?

☆Engineer - Bluebonnets☆

He sticks to the practical side of things, so when you give him a bouquet of flowers he’s utterly perplexed

He’s flattered of course, and thanks you greatly for the gift because he’s a Texas boy raised with manners

But he’s not used to pretty things and…doesn’t quite know what to do with them

He puts them in a vase with water but he finds himself stopping his work to look at them

They didn’t solve a problem, they didn’t hold a purpose yet people–including him now–seemed to love them

Eventually gives up trying to find a reason for it and just accepts it as they’re just pretty

Even though solving questions like “what is beauty” was never his forte, he’d somehow found an answer for it

And it was…well, you.

(He’d also 100% make you a flower out of scrap metal for you bc he’s a gentleman)

☆Medic - Cornflowers/Drosera Spatulata Sundew☆

There’s two flowers that he’d like

Cornflowers are one of his favorites, specifically the white ones (they remind him of Archimedes)

Not just because they are national flowers of Germany, but he also appreciates their medicinal properties

But if you somehow got your hands on a Drosera Spatulata Sundew he’d be pocketing you for months afterwards

Is absolutely fascinated with carnivorous plants and you get him carnivorous flowers???

The most romantic (or just super cool if platonic) thing in the world to him

Isn’t a botanist but he’ll be in the medbay all the time now just observing it and its reactions

He’s not sleeping for a while

He’d try to create a serum for whatever flowers you got him so they’d stay as beautiful as they are forever :)

☆Sniper - Wildflowers☆

No one has ever gotten him flowers before so when you show up at his camper van with hand picked flowers wrapped in twine he’s surprised, to say the least

Finds it interesting how he walked past those same flowers everyday and never cared

But when you gave them to him they felt…special.

Awkwardly mumbles a ‘thanks mate’ to you

Keeps them in an (UNUSED I REPEAT UNUSED) jar in his van

Smiles everytime he sees them

☆Spy - Roses☆

We all know this man is an old-fashioned lover boy so ofc he loves roses

But he’s never on the receiving end of them

So none are ever good enough for his high standards

“Eugh, where did you buy these, the gas station?”

Similar to Scout that if you say you could return them he’d absolutely refuse

Secretly thinks it’s really sweet 

Doesn’t act any differently towards you afterwards when he’s with you

But you find multiple bouquets of roses in your room and a note that says “if you ever consider buying me flowers again, buy roses from these boutiques instead of the trash you had before.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

(Putting in all the tags is another reason why I don't normally do all nine of them holy shit)

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

the first valentines day you spend as a katsuki's partner, you decide to buy him flowers. he wasn't the biggest fan of sweets and if he did eat chocolate it was in small portions and dark chocolate bc of the bitter taste. he always called people who buy special presents of people just because of a dumb love holiday pansies bc you should be able to buy your partner gifts any day of the year regardless of the occasion. at least, if you got him flowers and he ended up hating them, throwing them out wouldn't be that big of a waste.

he comes into his agency early in the morning getting ready for patrol, and all is normal when he leaves. when he comes back from his rounds, his secretary informs him that there's a gift that's been delivered sitting on his desk. absolutely confused, he goes into his office, unlatching his gauntlets on the way so that when he steps into his workplace privacy, he can just drop them off his arms.

he stops in his office threshold bc there sitting on his desk was a small bouquet of apple blossoms, daisies, and one large healthy lily. katsuki wasn't that well-versed in flowers, but he knew that these definitely weren't in season.

making his way over to his desk, he noticed a small card with his name on it slotted into a small plastic holder among the blooms that he plucked out. he flopped himself down into his desk chair and began to read. there wasn't much aside from the floors he received, their meanings, and a short message in a neat script he didn't recognize.

Apple Blossoms- i prefer you before all Daisies- i love you truly Lily- my love is pure -Happy Valentines Katsuki! I hope these don't smell too sweet for you xoxo

the prohero glanced at the small desk calendar he sat on the corner of his workspace and then looked back at the bouquet. he called you not long after reading the small card and you sounded absolutely giddy when you picked up.

"did they get there alright?" you ask as he looks over the assortment for the umpteenth time. he hums in approval. "good, i was worried they'd wilt or something on the delivery route."

"you didn't have to you know."

"i wanted to. for all the hard work you do, you deserve a treat. plus, who doesn't like getting flowers from time to time, right?" you purposely left out the fact it was valentines day, even though you mentioned it in your note. still, he chuckled at your innate nature to be so damn cute.

he's quiet for a while and you're afraid they aren't exactly to his taste. then you heard his desk chair move before he's shuffling around for something in his desk drawer.

"katsuki?"

"clear your schedule tomorrow."

"i mean i can no problem, but what for?"

"because i said so, dummy."

you laugh at him and talk with him a bit more before you had to let him get back to his job. for the rest of his shift before his next patrol round, he spent a lot of time thumbing the soft petals of his flowers and rereading their meanings.

the next day when you make it over to his place like he said, you can't help but notice the familiar bouquet sitting in a beautiful vase you hadn't seen before on his kitchen island.

"glad you like them"

"you gave them to me. 'course i do"

hugging his back as he makes you dinner, you giggle to yourself at the backs of his ears and how red they are.

-x-x-x-

a/n: i just really wanted an excuse to write katsuki getting flowers and being kinda bashful abt it hehe - p.s. i didn't proofread this and flower meanings may not be accurate bc i didn't do any kind of extensive research soz

[daddyhausen]

• sunflowers  — hangman adam page  — chapter one •

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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { hangman adam page masterlist }

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{ warnings } — none

{ word count } — 875

{ pairing } — fem!reader x hangman adam page

{ genre } — interactive

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{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @eddie-kingstons-wifey @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14

{ comment if you want to be added into the taglist }

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{ intro } | { chapter two }

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🌻

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it started as one flower, then two. by the end of the week the vase that resided at your window sill had been filled to the brim twice over with beautiful, blooming sunflowers, those from the field just past the stables. you’d find them on your window sill each morning, with no recollection of how they got there or from whom gifted them to you. it was a strange predicament, one that certainly left you on edge slightly yet also the act felt quite harmless and endearing. 

at times you’d find yourself staring at them, admiring the beauty in their simplicity, how the vibrant yellow petals clouded around the rich, dark centre. other times you’d pluck at the petals in a hopeless game of “he loves me, he loves me not” with your so-called secret admirer. even when wilting they seemed so beautiful, you simply could not bring yourself to throw them away. 

“more flowers?” willow, spoke up amongst the silence. she stood in your doorway, leaking against the worn oak frame. she was stocky, but by no means big. her body full and curvaceous, and she was well endowed, much to your jealousy. her hair sat in taught ringlets atop her head, a couple of daisies sat effortlessly amongst the curls, shielded from her eyes by a lilac and white tartan bandana, the same colour and pattern matching the dress she wore.

the sleeves hung off her shoulders slightly, stopping mid forearm, where the cuffs were ruched and tightened slightly around the skin, a white corset tied tightly to accentuate her natural curves completed her ensemble. her skin was warm and sun-kissed lightly with melanin. her smile infection to say the least. a seamstress she was, owning her own tailor shop in town, although she was not against wrangling a few horses if need be. you’d befriended her some years back. she takes up residence in the ranch also, her bedroom only a couple of doors down from yours.

you could only nod with a small chuckle, patting the mattress as an invitation for her to join you. she squeaked with excitement, clapping her hand gleefully like a small child allowed to roam free in a candy store. she took a seat beside you, hands folded in her lap eagerly.

“so, who do you think they’re from?” she questioned.

“honestly i haven’t got the slightest idea” your remark was honest, you indeed had no clue which mysterious stranger would be doing such an act. there was no card, no indication of a name, a signature not even a letter 

“maybe it’s that boy from the theatre last month, the politician's son..oh what’s his name…” willow clicked to tongue sharply as if it were to regain her train of thought 

“…maxwell?” 

“maxwell! that’s it! that boy is always trying to court you!” 

you held your breath for a moment at that thought, a shiver sent down your spine with an almost repulsed expression. sure maxwell was handsome, impeccably dressed and had an outstanding aura in social settings, however, his personality lacks the charm his exterior presents.

“trust me, he’s not the type to court for marriage, if you know what i mean” 

 willow burst out into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer at the thought.

“yeah right! like he’d be the type to send flowers!”

willow’s cheeks were warm with laughter, hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes, wiping them away as she tried to stifle her chuckles. a silence fell throughout the room, not awkward in the slightest, merely letting your mind continue to contemplate 

“are you sure it’s not you?” you jokingly poked her side with your index finger, one of which led to break out into a small fit of giggles once more, tufts of thick curls bouncing lightheartedly with her movement. 

“y/n my darling, trust me. you’d be getting more than sunflowers that's for sure” willow’s playful banter made your cheeks heat up in a bashful glance at your beloved friend. your fingers toying with the hemline of your skirt, the material smooth and silky against your fingertips, the colour, a muted grey-blue that complemented the undertones of your skin . 

“but really…” she continued 

“maybe it’s that new stablehand, he’s rather handsome from what i’ve heard” willow raised her eyebrows in a playful flirtatious fashion, tugging lightly at your arm. 

“what stablehand? father never mentioned a new one-”

“you haven’t seen him yet?” she interrupted, albeit unintentionally, a semi-shocked expression “well, we certainly must change that!”

“willow no-!” you tried to pry her grip from around your wrist, but by god the woman was strong. you were sure she’d leave bruised from how tight she was gripping you, although pain was never her intention. you held onto the metal framing of your bedpost, fingers barely clinging around the thin cylinder, holding on for dear life

“maybe you could ask him about the flowers too!” she mentioned completely ignoring your please

“are you insane?! do you want me to die from embarrassment?!” 

“c’mon don’t be such a scaredy cat, what have you got to lose?” willows voice was all too chipper despite your predicament. 

“only my sanity and dignity for starters…”

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[methaim]

4, 13, and 25 for the soft asks game :D

Oughu thank you Berryyy 🥺

4. what flower would you like to be given?

Getting flowers actually makes me super nervous bc I always get so sad when they wilt/die :( But honestly daisies are so pretty

13. what's your comfort food?

Prooobably chips? Specifically sour cream and onion lays. Whenever I couldn't eat full meals I could always eat sour cream and onion chips

25. what's the best personal gift someone could give you?

I've gotten cross-stitches from friends before!!! I love all of them so much 😭 (my friends and the cross-stitches)

Send me a soft ask!

[carrolldalgaard59]

Unveiling the Crisp and even Refreshing World involving Iceberg Lettuce

In typically the realm of green greens, one modest yet ubiquitous vegetable stands tall : the iceberg lettuce. Having its crisp texture, mild flavor, plus refreshing crunch, iceberg lettuce has very long been a software program in salads, sandwiches, and wraps. Inspite of its simplicity, discover more to this specific unassuming vegetable as compared to meets the eyesight. Join us as we delve into typically the world of banquise lettuce, exploring its history, nutritional advantages, culinary versatility, and even more. A Brief Background: Origins: Iceberg lettuce, scientifically known as Lactuca sativa, is one of the daisy family Asteraceae. That is believed to be able to have originated within ancient Egypt, exactly where it was cultivated along the Earth River as earlier as 2680 BC. Migration to America: The modern type of iceberg lettuce was created in the particular United States during the late nineteenth and early 20 th centuries. Its clean, tightly packed foliage made it suitable for transportation, leading to its widespread recognition around the world. Nutritional Account: Lower in Calories: One of the key attractions of banquise lettuce is the low calorie content, rendering it a favored among health-conscious men and women. Hydration: Despite it is high water articles (approximately 95%), iceberg lettuce still provides essential nutrients such since vitamin K, nutritional A, and folate. Fiber Content: Although not as full of fiber as deeper leafy greens just like spinach or him, iceberg lettuce even now contributes to general fiber intake, endorsing digestive health. Culinary Makes use of:

Salad Staple: Possibly the most typical usage of iceberg member of the lettuce family is at salads. The crispness and slight flavor serve because a refreshing bottom for a selection of toppings, dressings, and other fresh vegetables. Sandwich Filler: Iceberg lettuce adds feel and crunch to be able to sandwiches and gloves, providing a gratifying contrast to very soft bread and sapid saporific gustable gustatory gustful strong gamy palatable fillings. Wraps and even Cups: The huge, sturdy leaves involving iceberg lettuce could also be employed as wrappers with regard to tacos, burgers, or perhaps as cups for holding fillings many of these as chicken or tuna salad. Techniques for Selection and Storage: Look for Firm Heads: When choosing iceberg lettuce, decide for heads which are firm and weighty for their size. Avoid heads together with wilted or stained leaves. Proper Storage space: To prolong freshness, store whole brain of iceberg lettuce within the crisper bathroom drawer in the refrigerator. Additionally, you can wrap the lettuce in humid paper-towels and place it in the cheap bag. Health Benefits: Hydration: Due to the high-water content, iceberg lettuce assists in keeping the physique hydrated, particularly throughout hot weather or even strenuous physical activity. Weight Management: With their low calorie thickness and high normal water content, iceberg member of the lettuce family can be the valuable addition in order to weight loss or even weight management weight loss plans. Antioxidant Properties: Whilst not as effective as darker abundant greens, iceberg lettuce contains antioxidants many of these as beta-carotene in addition to vitamin C, that really help combat oxidative stress and inflammation. Ecological Considerations: Water Utilization: Growing iceberg lettuce requires significant quantities of water, leading to concerns concerning water usage and even environmental sustainability, especially in regions vulnerable to drought. Agricultural Procedures: Conventional farming methods for iceberg lettuce frequently involve the use of pesticides and fertilizers, contributing to environmental pollution and garden soil degradation. Culinary Trends and Innovations: Past Salads: Chefs and even home cooks likewise are finding impressive approaches to incorporate iceberg lettuce into a new variety of meals, from grilled member of the lettuce family steaks to lettuce-wrapped sushi rolls. Agitation: Some culinary fanatics have explored the world of fermented iceberg lettuce, transforming it directly into tangy kimchi or perhaps sauerkraut-like condiments. In summary, iceberg lettuce might be simple in look, nevertheless culinary versatility, refreshing crunch, and even nutritional benefits help make it a beneficial addition to any kind of kitchen. Whether appreciated in a classic salad, sandwich, or because a creative culinary arts experiment, iceberg lettuce continues to hold its place like a beloved vegetable within households and restaurants around the entire world. In Does Iceberg Lettuce Have Any Nutritional Value of cookery delights, iceberg lettuce may seem such as a humble line, but its crisp and clean texture, refreshing flavor, and culinary adaptability weave it to the fabric of many dishes. So the very next time you reach with regard to those crisp, snugly packed leaves, keep in mind that iceberg lettuce is more than the salad staple – it's a culinary arts canvas waiting in order to be explored.

[alolanrain]

Silly little bc but I bet Gary and Ash hated greens when they were young, as most children do at that age, but as they grew up they just started to munch on anything green.

Like Gary would snack on lettuce leaves while working and always give the wilted ones to Umbreon because she likes them the best while Ash would idly snack on a bag of snap peas while watching his Pokémon self-train.

Nothing drastic caused this. It just naturally started to happen and Delia and Daisy had to basically wrestle Oak to keep his mouth shut from pointing it out because it mostly likely would make the boys stop.

[peace-for-levi]

Morgen {levi x f!reader}

Morgen [German]: Tomorrow. (Title based off of this.)

full synopsis: Levi and Reader learn to navigate their life after the events of the Rumbling and both take on a new adventure together: entrepreneurship. You are daisies and roses and tulips and lilies, and pretty flowers that spark life and love every day. But at night, you wilt and close up, reliving the horrors you experienced. He is worn-out, dull and dreary, and just needs a bit of a spark to keep him afloat in a new type of world that is moving too fast. But he finds it so unbearably hard when the woman he loves is living across the sea.

That is, until, you open up your cozy flower shop next door.

Navigating love and life is hard enough, but with their new hometown in the deep end of a recession following the calamity of the Rumbling, fueding sides test their patience to stay put, and even their relationship. On the cusp of an all-out civil war, will their relationship wilt, or flourish in spite of it all?

story content warnings: heavy story ahead. serious manga spoilers past chapter 139 ! talks and deals with dark content (eventually, and warnings will be put in place accordingly.) F!Reader in 2nd person narrative (i.e. use of female anatomy, but with 2nd person narrative) Mental health issues, self-hatred, Levi being a bit jealous, typical canon violence, gore, blood, men being mean (sexism, misogny) marriage for wrong reasons, death, eventual smut, tooth-rotting fluff in between, SA, themes of war and prejudice !

series playlist can be found here!

Chapter List

Chapter 1: Of Loose Leaves and Lilies:

releaste date: 28.10.2021

Chapter 2: Aduantas

release date: 26.12.2021

Chapter 3: Wird die Sonne wieder scheinen

release date: 07/06/2022 (long hiatus bc uni)

Chapter 4: Sunday Mornings

release date: n/a (outlining)

[satansphatass]

Hello! i stumbled across your techno story and i LOVED IT!! very fantastic!! i was wondering maybe if you could perhaps do a story where y/n likes to braid technos hair and put flowers in it and maybe over time he like starts to actually wear it bc y/n likes and hes a simp? 👉👈😔 if not thats Very cool too no worries! i love your writing, keep up the fantastic work! -ik it says my blog, couldnt find the anon button lol whoops im too tired anyways its me, bee, and i hope i can become a regular around here!

WOOO I’m so hyped I’ve never had so much human validation 🤠

This is an adorable idea and I can’t wait for more ideas from you bee :)

Sorry this took so long I had writers block and half of it didn’t save 🥲

Flowers - Technoblade

Trigger Warnings: none

Fluff/platonic

Summary: Y/n braids Techno’s hair and makes him a pretty boi.

***

Y/n breathed in, feeling their lungs fill with the beautiful fresh air. They flopped backwards into a patch of daisies with a poof of petals. They drifted down onto their cheeks, causing them to giggle.

It really was gorgeous out, the field was filled with various coloured flowers and the heat was beating down on their face - a nice change from the cold grey winters.

Moments like these really made them appreciate the simple things in life.

They opened their eyes at the sound of footsteps approaching to see a very tall man blacking out the sun, just like in those dramatic movies.

“What ‘cha up to?” he asked

“Just relaxing,”

Techno sunk down to the floor beside them, squishing a small cluster of yellow flowers under that fat bunda 🥶😈 I’m so sorry-

He placed his sword down in the meadow and made a blanket to lie down on out of his cloak. He looked so relaxed, an unusual occurrence since he was usually on edge due to his ever growing amount of stress.

His long salmon coloured hair was bathed in the golden evening light. They had always wanted to plait his hair, it was the perfect length. But they had never found the confidence to ask - just in case he chopped them in half or something cute🥰

“Something interesting?”

They realised that they had been staring for the past minute 😐👀. Add that to the list of things they would think about for the next fifty years. Luckily he was no longer paying any attention to them, sparing them from any further embarrassment.

“can-i-plait-your-hair?”

The words had come spilling out their mouth before they even had the chance to overthink it a billion times.

His eyebrows quirked up in surprise, that was definitely not what he was expecting. He was expecting some form of compliment on his godly physique, or them to throw themselves at his feet and pledge their life to him. That’s what most people did 😌

“Sure”

Now that surprised both of them.

They excitedly moved to sit behind him, his hair was surprisingly soft, they wondered if he had little self care nights with hair masks or something. Believe it or not, it was quite hard to imagine.

***

Y/n finished up by placing various little flowers into his hair. They would never say it aloud but he looked like a Disney princess. They wondered what would happen to them if they said that, maybe a quick axe to the throat. Or possibly some poison in their morning coffee.

“Done!” They said excitedly, “What do you think?!”

He melted at the sight of their eager face, although it didn’t show, he needed to keep up that badass facade that had taken years to procure. You know how it be. 😌✋

He pulled the plait across his shoulder and stared down blankly at the flowers. They mistook the lack of response for distaste, maybe the flowers were a step too far- this is where they died- oh god they hadn’t even finished writing up their will- welp, it was a good run. ☠️

“It’s, fine. I guess.”

That’s was the most praise that they had ever heard him give.

They sat down next to him and they both sat in silence watching the sunset. They slowly leant into techno, the success of the plait giving them a short boost of confidence. He pulled them in closer, awkwardly patting their head. They smiled, missing the faint blush rising to his cheeks.

***

He wore that same plait for days, refusing y/n’s offer to redo it, in fear of losing the little flowers that were now starting to wilt.

It was quite unusual to see the blood god kicking ass with such fabulous hair.

When the time came to take it out, before his hair started to look like a birds nest, he was distraught. This was soon resolved when they re-plaited it again.

The cycle continued.

***

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

...

“Can you plait my hair?”

“Again?”

It soon became a regular treat, the small act of intimacy filling him with a warm feeling.

***

Got sappy in the end ngl. This is so shit, I didn’t do bee justice - I wanted to get it out fast and it has about as much structure as my relationship with the fam. Idk what I’m saying I’m very sleep deprived. 😌👍

[narutoblog]

If your requests are open could you write an ino or hinata(or sakura whatever you want) x fem reader where they are in a secret relationship and the others find out?

a/n: yesssssssss my queer ass has been trying to write a piece like this, thank u for the request <3 i’m wanna write headcanons for all three badass ladies, but i’ll split them into parts bc this one ended up being a long drabble of a headcanon

side note: sorry i’ve been so inconsistent with the content y’all, managing energy has been a lot more difficult than I expected;; also just finished reading Haikyuu, so i might eventually include some Haikyuu content on this blog as well ;)

the real queers of Konoha - headcanons {Ino Yamanaka x reader}

prompt: dating Ino in secret, then the others find out  (Hinata & Sakura versions to come later!)

content/warnings: purely imagines, just cute, v minor angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since you and Ino started dating, you started to find small flowers all around you; a freshly trimmed rose on your dining table, daisies on your desk at work that mysteriously never wilt, and occasionally you’ll wake up to find a bluebell ever so gently placed in your hair.  The first few times you noticed the flowers, you sprinted to your phone so you could look up what the flower meant, but now that you’ve got a basic understanding of Hanakotoba (Japanese language of flowers), you just huff out a smile, reminding yourself to make her an extra special meal later that day

Despite being outrageously informed on everyone else’s love life, Ino wanted to keep your relationship a secret for as long as possible.  You understood her reasons, but it still didn’t quell the ache when you walked to work alone or watched her blue eyes crinkle in laughter without you next to her, holding her hand.  (at this moment you realized you were a simp for this girl lol)

The only real connection the you two had in public was your interactions at the flower shop, where you’d slyly ask for tips on how to take care of these ~mysterious~ flowers that kept showing up around your desk;; Ino would happily play along, leaning across the counter and sweeping her hair forward so it brushes your arm, taking in the way you’d shiver at the sensation..  Then another customer would ring the chimes as they walked into the store and you’d both jump away from each other and Ino would give you an apologetic look as she turned towards the other customer

Honestly though, it didn’t take long for Sakura to connect the dots and corner you about it. You were getting ready for your brunch date with Ino when you heard a pounding at your door; Ino’s usually right on time, but being early was not her brand™ so you were a little confused until you found her pink haired bestie grinning at you instead.  You tried to make up an excuse that you had an event with your family to go to, but Sakura is a literal human lie detector & was not having any of your shit that day

You end up opening up to Sakura about your relationship with Ino and she’s really not surprised at all; she sighs and tells you that she thinks Ino is just scared that their other friends won’t get it, but she knows they’ll all be fine with it, if not a little too enthusiastic about it.  You end up asking Sakura to help you set up a little surprise for Ino & by the time you meet Ino at the door, you’re just trying hard not to give off sneaky vibes

You and Ino go to one of your favorite udon restaurants where they have booth seating so you two can get a little more privacy.  You find yourself losing your sense of surroundings as you listen to her talk about her week, watching her silky strands curve around her shoulders to reach her waist & you imagine tracing your fingers down those curves. You reach out to wipe off a little speck of food that got near her chin, and you hear her falter in her story, blushing a deep peach color all throughout her face.  You blink back to reality & look away, apologizing for overstepping as you glance around you to see if anyone has noticed.  She taps your foot with hers as an it’s okay while continuing her story

By the time you walk her home, it’s solidly mid-afternoon and you ask her to stop by the flower shop with you.  Ino notices that the door is unlocked and walks in to find Sakura and the rest of the Konoha gang sitting around & chatting in the shop – they’re playing some card game that Naruto brought

You can tell by her stance that Ino is about to 1) go off on them for breaking into her family’s shop and 2) be flustered out of her mind to try and find an excuse for why you two walked in holding hands

You walk in front of her and in a loud, clear voice, declare that you are dating Ino Yamanaka and you hope that as her friends they’ll accept your happiness together;; Sakura is beaming because she’s so proud of you and the rest of the gang just sits there in silence for a second;; you can feel Ino’s nervous grip on the back of your shirt, tugging you back towards her

After that second passes, the room bursts into laughter and you let out a sigh and smile as you turn towards Ino.  Naruto and Lee are basically shouting for all of Konoha to hear about how great this is, while Choji happily munches on his snacks and gives Ino a thumbs up; Shikamaru sighs and calls this whole thing a drag because he’ll have to listen to Ino gushing about the relationship now

Ino’s expression shows that she’s feeling a LoT of fEeLiNgs, but after a few minutes she’s yelling at Naruto to settle down and going off on Kiba for letting Akamaru sit so close to the flowerpots, so everything seems back to normal, except this time, you get to feel her hand relax in yours as a smile blooms on her face

[jaskicr]

bamf mage jaskier, anyone? stregobor dying a very very satisfying death (spoiler alert), anyone?

(posting again bc tumblr fucked with my post and tags)

summary:

You are destruction, Jaskier’s mentor tells him. Death and destruction thrum in Jaskier’s core of chaos, his magic bringing nothing but annihilation, and Jaskier hates it.

But music is not destruction. Music is creation, and it sings in Jaskier’s veins. There is nothing quite like the rush of joy and energy whenever music flows through him, and he forgets about the destruction that his chaos is capable of as music fills his soul.

After decades of being a sorcerer, Jaskier finds himself in music, and for the first time, his magic brings life.

—

When Julian is four, he screams so loudly that everything in the room shatters.

When servants rush into the room, followed by the Viscount and Viscountess of Lettenhove, they find a sobbing boy curled up in the middle of the room. Everything is broken, shattered, destroyed, but shards and pieces form a perfect circle around the crying child, who is untouched and unharmed.

From that day, his parents grow wary of him. They keep him at arm’s length, doing everything they can to discipline him, and Julian grows up in a loveless household, weathering cold words and harsh lashes from his parents. He is broken and beaten, his parents desperate to carve him into the perfect noble child, desperate to wipe that one horrific night from their minds.

When Julian is fifteen, a mage comes to collect a debt. Years prior to his birth, the Viscount had begged the mage to save his wife’s life. The mage brought her back from the brink of death, and told them that he would collect payment when the time came.

“Take anything you want,” Julian’s father says, gesturing grandly around his extravagant house. The fist that trembles behind his back is the only thing that reveals his fear, and Julian watches his usually unflappable father looking on anxiously as the mage wanders around the household, inspecting everything with a bored, uninterested expression. 

Julian stands behind his father, back straight, head held high, the perfect picture of a noble son. His back throbs in pain with the lashes he’d endured yesterday for failing to master the technique that his swordmaster had taught him, and his arms ache at the hours of chores that his father had subjected him to. His face is heavy with his mother’s powder, covering up the scars and bruises that his father had inflicted on him over the years.

Julian ignores it all, used to weathering the pain that fills every day of his life, and stands straight and tall. The perfect noble son. 

(A disappointment.)

The mage returns to stand in front of Julian’s father, crossing his arms as he drawls, “There is nothing of value in your household, Viscount. There is nothing here you can give me, unless you give me all your wealth. I saved your beloved, after all.”

Julian’s father goes pale at the thought of losing his wealth, eyes darting around as he implores, “Please, there must be something else I can give you.”

The mage glares. “There is nothing else you can give… oh,” he murmurs as he fixes his eyes on Julian. Julian freezes under the cold scrutiny of the mage’s gaze, fear welling up in his throat.

“Your power…” The mage stalks towards Julian, who takes a shaky step back, composure crumpling. The mage stops his advances, and turns back to Julian’s father, eyes alight. “I will take your son.”

“No,” Julian begs, voice raspy from hours of screaming, but no one hears him, his father and the mage staring at each other. After a few tense moments of silence, his father gives a curt nod.

“Take him,” he orders, waving a dismissive hand. Julian’s father looks at him with steely eyes, not an ounce of regret as he continues, “He’s worthless to us anyway. He’s nothing more than an abomination, a shame to the family.”

“Father -” Julian rasps, but the mage grabs him by his hand and sends his father a deadly smile. “Father, please -”

“Goodbye, Julian,” his father says with finality, and Julian’s scream is swallowed as the mage pulls him through time and space, and his head spins, he can’t feel his body -

He is in Ban Ard, they tell him. He has potential to become a mage, and here, in Ban Ard, they will train him to be one.

Magic, Julian scoffs, looking around the cold, bare room he’s in. As if he has magic.

Then he starts training.

Julian is put into a group with ten other boys, all with the same potential to do magic. Their teacher introduces himself as Waldemar, and he starts them off by sending them to start doing reading on magic.

Growing up, Julian had been forced to read heavy tomes on history and politics and etiquette, horrendously dull books befitting the son of a Viscount. The books on magic are no less heavy, but far more fascinating, and Julian finds himself spending hours and hours poring over the tomes, reading late into the night and finding more and more books to read.

Magic becomes infinitely interesting to him, and Julian can’t wait until they start actually doing magic.

Finally, one day, Waldemar rounds them into a greenhouse, and when he informs them that they will be starting to do practical magic, Julian almost jumps with joy. He watches with unwavering eyes as Waldemar holds a bright yellow buttercup in one hand, and a wilted daisy in another.

“There is a give and a take,” Waldemar says softly, and Julian sucks in a sharp breath as the yellow leaches from the petals of the buttercup. The small flower shrivels up, life draining from it and seemingly pouring into the wilted daisy, which begins to perk up, slowly unfurling as green blooms into its stem and a pure white washes over the petals, framing a sunny centre.

Now that is magic.

link in the reblog bc tumblr hates me:/

[misterghostfrog]

Leave it in the sunshine, where it can rot in peace

A really short fic about Jon and Martin and their process of grieving in the safehouse bc Martins line about saying their goodbyes put Ideas in my brain.

--

The safehouse is quiet

Not only in the literal sense, so far away from the city the only background noise is that of the wind echoing through the fields, and the ring of the windchimes Daisy had apparently decided would be the perfect addition to her murder-shack- But also in that without any immediate threats, nothing on their heels to run from. No monsters hiding in the corner, and no apocalypses looming on the horizon, It feels like the emotional equivalent walking out of a party into a perfectly silent back alley.

It takes them some time to realize it. There’s a jittery sort of feeling in the air for the first few days as they wait for the other shoe to drop. But by the fourth day with no catastrophe, it begins to dawn on them where they are. Perhaps not safe per se- no. But closer to safe than they have been in many years.

It feels like it should be wonderful, they should be happy to finally have any moment of respite. But the peace carries something else, something they’ve both been dragging with them since Prentiss.

Grief.

It’s Jon who breaks first. It’s the fifth day in the safehouse he’s looking through the linen cupboard. They’d managed to get everything washed at the laundromat in town just two days earlier- It was an hours drive but better than hand-washing everything. But they hadn’t really taken stock of everything they had, simply thrown it in the back of Martins beat up old van and gone.

He finds himself holding a set of curtains, they probably hadn’t needed the wash. They were barely salvageable as it was. And after a run in a beat up old washer they’re practically scraps. But the sunny Daisy pattern is still visible running along the bottom of the fabric.

He doesn’t even register the tears at first, so crushed by the knowledge that she’s gone . Not dead of course, but everything that made her Daisy. The Daisy he knew, the Daisy he cared for and perhaps would even go so far as to call his friend. Was gone.

Martin hears the sob from the kitchen and is by his side in moments.

Jon can’t even muster the words to explain, it’s like he’s being crushed- a different sort of crushed from the buried. Like something has wrapped itself inside his chest and is squeezing out every drop of emotion he has. Crying Gone, Gone, Gone.

Martin holds him there on the hallway floor until he’s finally gathered himself enough to move somewhere easier on their knees.

They talk about it a bit, Martin listens, though Jon knows he doesn’t understand. He never knew Daisy after the buried, not really. But he listens, and he’s there. And when Jons done talking he joins in the silence for his lost friend.

The second time it’s Martin, they both decide a quick run to town for necessities couldn’t hurt. And to speed things up they go their separate ways for errands. So Jon isn’t there to see him stumbling out of the charity shop looking like he’d seen a ghost. Or to watch him retreat back to the van and curl up in the drivers seat like he’s trying to hide from the world. He doesn't even know he’d left the shop until he runs by the van to drop off some of their groceries.

Martin struggles so much to gather himself that they just start the drive back to the safehouse without finishing their errands. During the drive Martin manages to pull himself together enough to explain he found a mug that says ‘sexiest guy on the block’ and he’d thought ‘Tim would like that’ in the present tense. Like he wasn’t even gone. And it had all just sort-of, hit him

Jon pulls over, and they cry together this time. not just for the death of their friend, but for the parts of himself he’d lost before he was even really gone. And they both realize just how long they’ve gone without even a chance to grieve their friends- or their family.

After that they talk. About all of it. Sasha, Tim, Daisy, Martins mum. The wounds they never even noticed were there hanging over them, wounds that were being ripped open anew with each fresh loss.  

It takes time. they can’t always muster the energy to talk about it. It’s hard, hard to listen and hard to talk. There are some trampled feet and tripped boundaries, and they have to learn to work around themselves. But they manage it.

And they’re together, is the first thing Martin always says when they’re done talking, and the tears have mostly dried. They’re together and for the moment they’re safe. And that’s enough, right? It has to be enough.

In the end, they decide to do a sort of impromptu farewell to all of them, all the friends that had or could have had. It’s not a funeral, not all of them are dead. And the rest are already buried, but it’s something. It doesn’t feel fair how many of their friends never got a real ending.

The box is Martins idea. A small cardboard box with an item to represent every person they’ve lost or missed. They take the curtains Jon found in the cupboard, and Martin buys the mug from the charity shop. Jon makes a small, clumsy drawing of a woman with curly hair. She doesn’t have a face, but Knowing she had curly hair alone left him with a migraine that lasted the rest of the day. And finally Martin writes a letter. Jon doesn’t ask what’s in it, and Martin doesn’t tell him,. But it’s addressed to his mum, just the same as the one Jon found all those years ago.

Jon writes some letters of his own, for Tim, and Sasha. He doesn’t write one for Daisy, she already knows- knew, what he would say. Or at least he hopes as much.

They don’t bury the box, or burn it. Both of them seemed far too close to the horrors that be for comfort. So instead they wait for a day where the weather's at its nicest and take a hike, a long one. Up the hills and into the forest. They take their time, enjoying the scenery. At one point they set up and make a small picnic. Martin pointing out the various wildlife, and listening to Jon rattle off things he knows or Knows about whatever critter he’s landed on- invariably drifting off to a new topic until Martin finds another interesting beetle or critter for Jon to latch onto.

There’s a peace to it, sitting there in the sun talking about nothing alongside their box of memories. It's nothing like spending time with the people it represents, but it feels closer to it than they'll likely ever get again.

They take the box far enough they’re positive they won’t find it again, accidentally or otherwise. And they place it under the nicest tree they can find.

It’s not buried, or burnt, or rotten or tossed or any of the things that might feed something unsavory. It’s simply there, unseen as they turn away but still basked in the sunlight. And perhaps it will fade off with time, the box and its contents will wilt in the rain and be steadily reclaimed by the earth. But it will be natural, quiet. moreso than the fates of the people it represents.

Leaving the box under the tree has something of a finality to it, Jon thinks, as they make their way back towards the safehouse. He’s not sure if it’s a good sort of finality. But then again he's never liked goodbyes, and that's what this feels like really. A goodbye.

But it’s closure, which is more than any of them have ever gotten.

It gets easier, after a week or two. That weight that had been hanging over them starts to lift, and they start to feel lighter than either of them have in a very long time. It’s not gone of course, not really. There’s still so much left unsaid, so much hurt to have experienced in so little time. And just leaving a box in the woods doesn’t end the grieving process.

But it’s a start, a step forward after years of walking in place. And they’ll take that step for now. And every step that comes after it.

[angeltiddies]

Dean goes up to Cas, gives him a bunch of flowers that he picked for him, panics and speedwalks away leaving Cas delighted but confused. Cas knows that giving flowers is a human custom to express affection, but what should he do with them? Just having them stand around and wilt seems like a waste. would that even express that he feels the same for Dean? In the end Cas makes a flowercrown out of them, looking hella cute and making Dean blush and Sam proud. How about it? Have a nice day btw.

Yeah i did not write this at the beach like i said i would……and it’s so bad…the tense changes a bunch, but i just needed to get writing, u know? honestly your prompt is written far better than this in itself, so kudos to you lmao. also i cut sam out bc it was hard enough to get dean and cas’ characters right and i write sam a lot less often! sorry!

i hope you enjoy anyways, and have a wonderful day (or night idk) love!

Dizzy With Daisies

destiel, word count ~900

Dasies had always reminded Dean of Castiel. The white petals representing the brilliance of his angelic grace, the yellow center, his soul, bright and warm as the sun. 

Dean knew it was cheesy, maybe worse than the mixtape, but he was tired after a hunt and a new patch of wild daisies had sprung up over the bunker and—he could make excuses all day, all he knew was that he wanted Cas to have those flowers, he deserved them after sticking with him and Sammy after all this time. An angel tied down by brotherhood of all things, he’d stayed, through trial and tribulation and dammit, it wasn’t brotherhood to Dean anymore. 

That felt wrong, even drifting around in his thoughts. Dean felt…more for Cas. He felt the profound bond, a beacon of hope, a blessing, and he felt it wearing away at his soul with each passing day he ignored it. So, fuck it, he was gonna pick the flowers that made him think of Cas and he was gonna tie a fucking bow around the stems and he was gonna present them to the angel because, god dammit, he had nothing else to lose. 

—

Dean knelt in front of the flowers he had cut, individually and with great care, and toyed with the brown twine in his fingers. He rolled his eyes at himself, making a fucking bouquet of all things, get yourself together Winchester, and sucked in a sharp breath as he arranged the flowers and tied them together by the stems with a neat little bow. 

—

Castiel was sitting, reading in the library, Sam was nowhere to be found, it’s as good as time as ever. 

“Hey, uh, Cas..” Dean mumbled as he fiddled with the bouquet he held behind his back.

“Yes, Dean?” 

Dean could feel his face heat up as Castiel’s blue eyes met his with a smile. 

“I got you these.” He stated, pushing his hand holding the bouquet out with a straight arm and a bit too much force. 

Castiel looked curiously at the bunch of daises that Dean had presented to him. The angel felt his heart stirring deep within him as he quirked his head at the gift. He reached up gingerly and took the bouquet from the hunter’s outstretched arm, letting a few of his fingers brush against Dean’s. 

Before Cas could thank him, Dean was rushing away, heading to his room to ‘lock himself away forever, thank you very much.’

—

A vase didn’t feel as though it would be enough. 

A vase was dull and practical and not affectionate at all, not nearly affectionate as the act of hand cutting wild flowers and arranging them into a perfect bouquet. 

A vase could never do justice to such a gift, and Cas knew, “you keep those.”

Castiel spent the day lying among the grass and flowers, his own bouquet placed gently into a mug full of water to keep the flowers content until he decided what to do with them. 

Undoubtedly, Dean had meant something by the flowers, and Castiel wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to see more of Dean Winchester’s rarely-seen soft side. 

As he lay there, staring at the clouds, a thought struck him.

With a giddy smile, he sprung from the grass, like a daisy sprouting to life, and headed to his room to get started on his little project.

—

Dean was shaking for the rest of the day, he hadn’t realized until he handed Castiel those flowers just how much meaning hung on them. If Cas had to research what flowers as a gift meant, Dean was toast. The feelings he had spent so long repressing would be out there, in the open, floating around like dandelion seeds and fucking up the perfect garden he had tended. 

It was at this moment, standing alone in the kitchen, having snuck out of his room to grab some food and sneaking back to seclude himself, that Castiel entered. 

Dean froze, his back faced Castiel, but he could hear the soft of footseteps on the hard floor. 

“Dean, I just wanted to say..” 

In the brief pause Castiel took, Dean’s mind went spiraling to the worst.

He doesn’t want you in that way. 

He faced away from the angel, only turning around after saying Castiel’s name, to make sure the words he said were taken as truth. 

“I’m so sorry Cas, I didn’t mean t-”

However, the image that he was greeted with was so much different from what he expected. 

Castiel stood, like a flower himself, with daisies wrapped delicately around his head, braided together into the perfect crown. His black hair spilled over the edges and the daisies sunk in like they were taking root in dark, rich soil. 

Dean’s breath hitched and Castiel took a few steps towards him. 

“Thank you Dean, they are truly lovely.” 

With this, he stepped closer still and Dean’s heart nearly beat out of his chest when Castiel reached up and placed something atop his own head. 

He raised a hand to feel around his hair, eyes locked with Cas’, and couldn’t supress the laugh that escaped him when he felt the delicate petals of daisies circling his head.

“Thank you, Cas”

“Of course, Dean.” he beamed. 

Dean’s face was plastered with a goofy smile and Castiel’s expression reflected his as he reached a hand to Cas’ own crown and let himself stare into his angel’s eyes. 

Subtly, he ran his fingers through the soft tufts of hair surrounding the buds. 

Finally, fucking finally, after basking in the quiet sun of affirmation, Dean let himself drift towards Castiel and, letting the minute nod of Castiel’s head be a confirmation, brushed his lips against the angel’s. 

“Flower power, Cas, flower freakin’ power,” he mumbled jokingly against soft lips, before leaning back in for more. 

[trubilee]

so i guess i’ll write (blogwrite?) now.

today we were authorized for early release at D, the way we are whenever there’s a holiday, so i decided to use up my 3 hours of company-gifted time to try and write this morning (not write this blog, but write other stuff, which tired me so now i am writing this blog as my treat for this last hour).

it has been a challenge to write these past several months.  i sort of think i know why, or i know what triggered it at least.  not sure why the difficulty persists but i guess i could pat myself on the back for trying this morning.

there are a lot of things i’ve been wanting to write about.  in no particular order, my performance eval at work, my strange quarantine life-related skincare fixation journey (oh, the ups and downs), wes and happiness and my odd overthinking of it sometimes, the chasing francis book i finished a couple weeks ago, the funeral last week, and... hmm.  maybe that’s around everything i can think of.  oh, music in the time of rona too.  also stuff in me that the writing has kicked up.  i guess i could try.  oh, and my bras of choice during these WFH times.  maybe a little about daisy and the vaccine.

so.  performance eval.  it went extremely well.  we took the full hour.  my leader L is not the type to give much feedback, but in the first half of that hour she basically looked straight at me and told me all the things i would’ve wanted to hear.  about client group 1, and 2, and 3, the breadth and versatility and equal parts drafting and interpersonal connecting components of them all.  i repeated it all to paul when i told him how it went, and really, really it was everything i would’ve wanted to hear from her.  i was praying thanks to God as she was talking to me through the screen, because i was just absorbing all the words that i had been so hungry to have her give to me this whole past year.  and there are so many things to it too.  things like, i know i am not perfect and everything to everyone the way i think i should--even could be--and i can’t necessarily just say to myself “oh but nobody is” because actually, at this company, there are some people who are, they really really are just so good, and i feel so bad just taking in how good they are at thinking on their feet and killing it at getting things done here, and being so articulate and effective at communicating and dynamic and all of it.  anyway, the conversation felt so... whole-making.  hahaha.  make-whole-ing?  another part of it is that i have always been grateful for the job, i always felt like it was suck a lucky winning when i shouldn’t have necessarily landed it and with that came this default set of thoughts that went, oh they hate me.  oh they think i am inept.  oh they see how inept i am.  they regret hiring me.  i don’t want them to regret hiring me.  that would be one of my worst fears, jobwise.  to burden someone with my existence on their team.  i know that it’s healthy to think that a company is lucky to have you and to know your worth and all, but bc i’m kind of acquainted with my own versions of total failure, i’m not good at thinking that way.  i’m always thinking that i’m lucky to work for X company.  it would probably make many a leadership coach or asian american advancement advocate grimace.  i’m sure it’s a handicap to me careerwise, salarywise, etc etc, but asking me to fix it is like asking mesomeone to stop being insecure.  in that, it's not something you can change by will.  it almost feels like a part of my dna, not just some protective armor.  this is why i sort of roll my eyes inside when someone announces that she (it’s usually a she) has imposter syndrome.  it’s unfair, i know, but i almost want to look around and say, wait is that not just the normal state of things?  why are you acting like it’s some sort of unusual complex that you have?  i thought everyone, anyone with any noonchi, had that.  that’s like saying that--gasp--you don’t think you’re the absolute sh*t.  it doesn’t mean you're afflicted with anything.  i should ease up a little.  

damn.  i only have 20 min left.

ok another thing about the performance eval.  about which i joked to my leader, when she said we could have these conversations more regularly if we wanted to, that my heart could only take once a year at most.  i was so relieved, so happy, i felt so uncaged afterwards.  bc again, really it extinguished all of the unhelpful fears that had made me so tense about work this year.  and part of me, the part that is always maybe a little too self aware, thought to myself, that gosh, if getting a positive review from my leader at some big company where i am a corporate peon is this satisfying to me, then perhaps my world, my dreams, are just rather small.

i was thinking about that and preemptively tried to put it to paul this way:  that sometimes i feel very rich.  not like money-wise, bc i know just enough of the wrong people to ever feel that way (lol).  but more in a life-currency sort of way.  like when i think about my little family of three, my son who is so perfectly delightful that i don’t even know how to--i don’t know how to appreciate him or even just take him in without feeling like his delightfulness is slipping through my fingers simultaneously with, even AS i’m, looking at him and trying to appreciate him and take him in (does that make any sense?), my husband who i have similar slightly overwhelmed feelings about when it comes to his quality as a human being and heart on this earth, and my mom and dad who both survived their different cancers.  about how somehow God provided me with not just the friends i needed but even extra friends who i didn’t dare think i had a chance at asking for, and even this house, and having and seeing daisy and family regularly, and gosh even my inlaws who only seem to ever give and never receive (sorry, ommonim abbonim...) and my sister in law who i feel the same way about, and our nanny, and yes this job too, this job i once never thought i had the right to even dream of having bc of said past failures, this job for two companies brands i adore and believe in.  and the chance to write, and feeling like i have something to write about.  and even knowing a handful of living, breathing, non-robot human beings who actually read what i write, actually think it’s worth their time.  what marvels.

on the other hand, sometimes i feel rather poor.  i feel like we don’t have enough savings, we aren’t saving enough.  i feel like we will always just need to work for a salary bc neither of us is in a job role where we make dividends happen for us.  and i am so junior here at a place where promotions are slower than slow anyway, and salaries aren’t tech or finance salaries anyway.  and i feel ugly and like a half-distracted working mom whose life is devoid of glamour or romance or margin or space or passion / vision.  well, i guess my “poor” list is a lot shorter than my rich list.  

all this to say, after my dumb performance eval i felt like a rich woman.  not because they told me i was getting some big raise (i’m not, and i don’t generally care bc the raises are so small and have you seen the mass layoffs happening here).  i felt rich bc i felt like i got really validating feedback from leaders i really admire, both on a professional and personal level, and i work on a team with colleagues who i think are really excellent at what they do, and i work at a company where i really like what they make.  i feel kind of silly typing all of this out bc it’s so freaking wholesome and vanilla and, again, small, but it’s true.  those things made me happy after my review.  and this is the job i report to 8 hours a day.  yep.  real stable, ordinary stuff.  

i told paul that in thinking about how happy i felt and feeling self-conscious about that happiness, i would rather feel like a rich woman and be objectively “poor” than to be the other way around.  to feel like i am poor but in reality be quite rich.  

it’s also funny bc B and G also specifically separately felt compelled to send me messages confirming this same exact thought, now that i think about it.  how wonderful.  thank you.

next topic.  bras in rona times.  yesterday i bought my fourth--no, lemme count--seventh! eberjey bra.  it’s not bc i’m being greedy, it’s just that the ones i started with i wore so often that they jstarted wearing out.  the eberjey bras are generally underwired, with no lining except a thin layer of lace, and they make my boobs--my post-maternity, seen-such-better-days, already wilted boobs look terrible under my clothes.  but i am working from home and don’t need the extra lining for decency’s sake.  and when i see the bras in my bra drawer and i deposit my boobs into them every morning it feels lovely.  the bras are unflattering but they are delicate enough (while still practical) and comfortable to wear and are lovely to look at.

well i need to start my workday now.  if i ever get around to it i’ll write about other stuff.

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

After that, Hawks slowly but surely collapsed into a crouching, quietly weeping mess. Except it was less and less about being touched and more about him feeling like a piece of shit. :^)

(it did earn Himiko about 12 bucks and a half tho... bc she would bet on that)

This is kind of a follow-up of that sleep pile I drew about two weeks ago... happy way-too-early Mother’s Day? (Ignore the angst if you want to. In fact, have this:)

(twice is just a little creecher. thatse it. he canot change this.) (also fae suspect)

Anyway, have some additional txt and other extras with Spinner bc I’m gonna SMASH all of this into a One For All single-use post:

With slight befuddlement on his face, Hawks twirls the rounded object around his fingers before looking back at Spinner. The confusion can also be felt in his voice once he speaks up.

“... lipstick?” Really? Random as hell. Did he buy some kind of Mother’s Day edition cat-in-the-bag instead of going for flowers, like the others? Or does he just not really care? Looking at the morose expression on the guy’s face, latter is not likely.

The other wrinkles his snout. He’ll have to get this part out of the way, doesn’t he.

“… well, it was meant to be for Magne, but…” Spinner’s shoulders rise in a half-hearted shrug, and he tilts his head with one raised brow in discomfort. He sighs before returning to the answer; “Anyway, since you’ve become somewhat of a stand-in for both big sis and Kurogiri, and today’s… y’know. Figured I should get rid of it already.

”It always felt like a dead weight in his bag whenever he had to remind himself that it was still just… sitting there. Aimlessly. For months. But he spent the last of his money from home on the birthday present, so hell if he threw it away.

Hawks’ eyes focus back on the small tube; the bottom reads ‘Rosso Corsa.’

 “... so only half a joke. I see.” Much like the severely dehydrated potted tulip, fresh bouquet and the couple of wilting daisies and thistle in his other arm, but there’s an additional weight to it. He lets out a sigh of his own and allows a small smile to creep on his lips. “Reserved for special occasions, then.”

Spinner nods in acknowledgement and relief.

“Is today special enough?” chimes in Himiko from behind him. God knows when she creeped up… one can never be too sure with her around. And there’s a very special kind of glint in her eyes, indeed… the one reserved for make-up artists before a photo shoot.

“…” After a long moment of consideration, he stops staring at her, and his eyes dart back to the lipstick. He doesn’t need to look to know that there’s a pained expression on Spinner’s face as he mumbles something along the lines of ‘oh my god you’re gonna do it aren’t you’.

Honestly? Yes. To hell with it all, yes, he will.

“Just having been nominated a single parent of half a dozen or so is quite out of the ordinary, I guess… I’ll bite.” He’s not entirely sure who counts to this brood and who doesn’t. They are all bona fide idiots in one way or another. And so is he, apparently.

She jumps a little in excitement. “Yes, yes! Let me!!!” Having snatched the item, she takes an overjoyed look at the actual color inside. “It’s just like your wings when it's all bright outside…! I have some other stuff, can I make you super pretty?!” she asks then, turning back towards Hawks.

“Make me… the fairest mother hen of all.”

soon after Dabi walks in and this biptch turns around like

and Dabi’s just

“why do y’all have to make things w e i r d”

(For anyone wondering where Shigaraki is during all of this: I guess most of you saw that cryptid doodle I did a few days ago already? That red in his hair was no accident. All he did was basically clean up a little around himself, but Hawks was proud enough to smooch his head. He almost died, but it was #worth.) (He prolly should wash his mouth after that tho, because let’s be honest...)

[pan-crow]

You ever writted a fic about pushing daisies? If not, how about a fic of your ocs? (I know its not a fic if its about your own ocs but SHHH) on an unrelated topic, do you have lore for your dragons on fr?

Okay okay so I don’t have any written stories for my OCs…yet…I want to write out Orphelin and Chad’s story! It’ll probably be a short story, or maybe two chapters, but I think they deserve it for being some of my best fleshed out OCs.

I have no Pushing Daisies fics, which is a shame. I should look into writing some, some times.

And because I haven’t proved much let me give you some of my favorite dragons with Lore. This is Forest:

Forest, Park, and Bonsai together help take care of the forest and work in giving those who deserve second chances, such chances. The more life Forest shares with other dragons the more her body rots away as consequence to giving up her power and life force for the good of others.

It is she who decides what dragons come across her forest live and what dragons end up dying due to her families hands. If a dragon has proven to be worth a second chance, she gives them a pair of flowered branches that rest upon their shoulders. These branches last until the dragon has finished their final deed in life and wilt so the dragon may move on.

While this slowly picks away at Forest’s life, shes more than happy to see the happiness on the faces of dragons who deserve it.

And heres Park:

Once a dragon who had lost himself in a dark, thick forest, Park ended up dying cold and alone. Once he’d become that of a ghost, a forest goddess happened upon him, her name was Forest.

With a deep love for the curious ghost, she gave part of her power to him and mentored him on how to be one with the forest and take care of it. This in turn lead to Park growing a deep love for this dragon and soon enough the two of them ended up having many hatchlings together.

Its seems however, one hatchling decided to stay with his parents among the forest, being named Bonsai after his tree like looks and helping his parents look after the mythical and sacred area. One day Forest and Park hope to pass on their full knowledge and power to their son, so they themselves may go into a deep rest to recharge what little energy they have left.

Funny enough these dragons were named after the bots in the DEH Discord forever ago, but I figured with their looks they deserved some nice work to em. A lot of my fandragons (Fandom based dragons) also have lore that keep them in character but still fit the aesthetic of FR (Like Phoenix and Miles’ stoires. They had to be changed up a bit bc uh,,,,dragons,,,,don’t need lawyers???) but Park and Forest have some of my favorite little lore stories to em.