#can parrot eat sweet potato

[lostlimerence]

“Munson…what the fuck?! Put that down!”

“Chill out Sunshine I’m not going to eat it!

“You can’t eat it…”

“Ahh stop getting technical…eat it, suck it’s blood, same difference,” Eddie snuggles his nose into the cats fur with a grin, flashing a sharp fang at Billy. “It’s so cute I just wanted a cuddle, I forget how exciting it is up here compared to down there,” he sighs.

“Hey, you’ve got me down there!” Billy grumbles, dusting himself off (the portal from the upside down isn’t exactly clean).

“I do baby, I do, but you’ve gotta admit our one day of freedom up here is pretty fuckin sweet!” he puts the cat down, watches it as it sprints into the bushes.

“See it was shit scared of you Eds,” Billy throws his arm out in the direction of the cat.

“Aw California I didn’t know you were all soft on cats! Should be King of the witches not the ghouls” Eddie raises his hands wiggling his fingertips in the air.

“And you shouldn’t be King of anything you royal loser…” Billy grabs him by the collar and pulls him in the direction of the town “hmmm, wonder what Stevie will be when he dies?“ Eddie muses, as he shakes off Billy’s hand and falls into step beside him, then immediately regrets asking when he sees Billy’s shoulders bunch a little.

“Sorry sunshine, I shouldn’t have said that, I know it’s hard,” Eddie frowns.

“It’s just…we were so young Eds…it’s going to be years until ya know, and they only let us up here on Halloween so…” he says it to the ground.

“But then baby, it will be us three for the rest of our lives? No our undeadness? Think about that yeah?” Eddie squeezes his arm.

Billy huffs a laugh, let’s the smile of it stay “yeah, and it’s the day we get to see him”

“Sure is! Just need to find him!”

“Yeah and you need to not suck any blood…unless it’s Steve’s”

Eddie shudders at the thought, presses his tongue to the point of his fang.

“Hear me Munson?” Billy drawls.

Eddie gives his head a quick shake “Yesss, I only sucked that persons blood for like a second and it was ages ago, I was still getting used to the whole undead thing…besides you’re one to talk you literally smashed a rock with your fist last year!” Eddie presses an accusatory finger into the side of the ghouls head.

Billy’s eyebrow twitches, arm flexes, as he says “they were mocking me, I was just showin them what would’ve happened to their skulls if they’d kept going…”

“Mmhmm, yep and then when we’d both have inevitably been found out, lost our cool-ass titles and been banished to fuck knows where” Eddie tosses his hands in the air.

“Yeah well that’s exactly why I didn’t bash their skulls in” Billy stresses, as they approach the clearing, trees frame a street full of trick or treaters, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, zombies, “why’s no one ever dressed as a ghoul?,” Billy pouts as they step onto the street, the one day of the year they blend in seamlessly with the locals, “not as sexy baby,” Eddie sticks out his tongue “hey!” Billy gapes brow furrowing slightly.

“I’m sorry but it’s true, undead demon thing that loves hanging around graveyards vs sexy undead thing that can drink your blood sexily? No contest!” Eddie shrugs in a ‘what can you do about it’ kind of way.

Billy grumbles affronted “I’m sexy.”

“Yes you are darling trust me, but some of your loyal subjects,” Eddie shudders “not so much…and…” he’s interrupted by a sharp prod to his shoulder “oi, isn’t that your little nerd kid Dusty over there” Billy gestures to the porch of a house across the street where a kid wearing what looks like a potato costume stands.

Eddie frowns “it’s Dustin stop pretending you don’t know his name you big lug and,” Eddie looks properly “yeah, yeah it is! Potato’s an interesting choice but whatever.. So that means..”

“Steve’s probably nearby, sniff him out!!”

“Hey! I’m not a dog! I’ve just got insanely cool powers!”

“Ah stop getting technical dog, vampire…same difference,” Billy grins proud of his parroting, Eddie rolls his eyes and focuses slightly overwhelmed by the sheer number of scents mingling in the air, it takes him a moment but he catches the familiar rich scent of Steve, “got it” he mumbles, they keep their heads down, ensure they avoid Dustin’s eye-line as they head round the corner.

Steve is leant against a wall with his back to them. He jumps with a little yell when Billy leans in and says “a sailor pretty boy? That ain’t very scary,” his shocked expression morphs quickly into one of delight, his cheeks flushing red “hey! Yeah um would you believe this is actually my work uniform” he chuckles rubbing his palm over the back of his head, skewing his hat a bit to the right.

“No way Stevie, you’ve been hiding that cute outfit from us!!” Eddie flashes his fangs.

“Cute? It’s ridiculous!”

“I mean it is cute but we could go get it off” Billy rumbles, crowding Steve back into the wall.

“You haven’t seen the kids yet, I can go get…”Eddie cuts in “we were thinking maybe we just go back to yours? We’ll pop in and see the kids just before sun’s back up.”

Eddie’s dressed head to toe in black, hands covered in rings, a chain round his neck, his tongue runs across his teeth. Billy’s shirtless, thick thighs pressed into tight black jeans, his blue eyes blown wide, fists clenched like he’s trying very hard to hold himself back.

Steve’s doesn’t take long to decide.

…

Fangs graze gently at the skin of his nape, his breath hitches in anticipation, blood singing in his veins. God he craves this, can’t believe how long he has to wait for it every year. Eddie tongues the skin gently, the area tingles, and when he finally bites Steve feels euphoric, then he sucks and Steve groans. Eddie drinks and drinks until Steve’s aching and hard.

A whimper sounds from the corner, Billy’s enthralled, he sits hands pressed to the tops of his thighs, Eddie had told him to wait and enjoy the show for a bit.

Eddie lifts his head from Steve’s neck, locks eyes with their beautiful blonde and smiles softly, speaks with gentle command “Christ, Billy baby, you’ve been so good, come here, it’s about time we properly worship our King...”

For @a-redharlequin thank you for your creative prompt:

“it's spooky season! So Ghoul King Billy and Vampire King Eddie back from the dead and find King Steve <3 (harringroveson)”

I really enjoyed writing this thank you so much for taking the time to send a prompt I find them so fun!

And sorry it turned out to just be a lot of Billy and Eddie banter with a sprinkling of Steve, their undead bickering carried me away a bit 😂

[flock-talk]

Hi, had an interesting vet visit today that I was hoping to get your opinion on. I have a Quaker parrot and my vet recommended I feed him pieces of cooked chicken, potato and sweet potato, cottage cheese and was kind of meh about vegetables and fruits. He said if I can get him to eat the veg that’s fine, but to focus on the cottage cheese, chicken and potato. Ive seen very mixed results about feeding cottage cheese online, but this vet is also the vet for our local aquarium so he’s famous in our area for his expertise in birds and reptiles. My bill was also quite high, I was charged $50 for a restraining fee and $7 for a biohazard waste disposal? He had blood work, a fecal sample and a vitamin shot done so I was expecting the bill to be high, but I was surprised by those charges. This is all completely different from my old vet who no longer sees patients, which is why I had to switch. Any insight would be greatly appreciated!!

That is a really odd set of recommendations I would ask more as to why that’s their preference. There are some species of parrot who eat bugs but cooked meats are pretty fatty and they can struggle to properly digest a lot of animal proteins so that strikes me as odd. Parrots can’t digest lactose so suggesting cheese is again a really bizarre recommendation. Cooked Sweet potato is a common suggestion and I love using it since the Vit A is great for feather pigment and most birds find it tasty so it works well for veggie transitions.

Being meh towards veggies is again strange since most parrots are not true granivores and eat primarily sprouts, grasses, leaves and other vegetation. There was one study done that showed that eating veggies had little nutritional impact when pellets were fed as a base since most veggies are mostly water it didn’t drastically mess up the balanced vitamins in the pellets. So that could be their reasoning for being meh towards it?

That being said I don’t have a world of experience with Quakers so maybe there’s bits I’m not fully understanding there.

The restraining fee for such a tiny bird is also strange unless your bird was excessively aggressive and required extra time/ special handling. There could be reason for that but I’ve not had that experience myself.

I’ve also never seen a biohazard waste fee but that could be a provincial/ state/ country difference that I’m not familiar with.

I’d likely ask more questions, as a whole things aren’t really adding up!

[rose-icosahedron]

Minecraft lore no. 2: Food

this is a guide to all the potentially edible things that exist in minecraft if you want to put game-accurate food in your minecraft-based fics.

meat

chicken, beef, rabbit, pork, and mutton are common in most player's diets, however some other meats are considered delicacies by some.

bats, parrots, horses, polar bears, pandas, llamas, wolves, and strider meats are eaten by some, but considered morally abject by others.

some claim mooshroom and hoglin meat have distinct tastes from normal beef and pork, tests have proved mostly inconclusive in this matter for mooshroom meat compared to normal beef, but there is a notable textural difference between hoglin meat and normal pork

spiders, bees, and silverfish are also quite edible if one manages to defeat one, but some find the taste, and more often the concept of consuming insects rather objectionable. cave spiders however are best avoided due to the large amount of poison stored through out their bodies, and ender mites are best avoided due to the teleportation magic found within them, eating one often produces similar results to eating chorus fruit.

some consider dragon meat a delicacy, though many could do without due to how hard it is to slay a ender dragon, in addition to avoiding the large amounts of acid and magic stored within a dragon's body.

sea food:

salmon and cod are the most common sea food, however they are not the only edible animals found within the oceans and rivers of minecraft.

puffer fish is edible with proper preparation, but it is very ill-advised to eat one without proper training in puffer fish preparation.

some people will eat tropical fish, although due to the large amount of species, it is very possible to end up fishing up something poisonous without knowing

calamari is much less risky to acquire, but is objectionable to some. the eddiblity of glow squid has yet to be tested.

while technically edible, many people have moral reservations about eating turtle and dolphin meat.

other animal products:

there are many animal products aside from meat that can be eaten.

mushroom stew, a substance acquired by milking a mooshroom provides a thin milky stew with mushroom dispersed throughout. it however is not spiced in any meaningful way and in quite bland.

milk is gotten from cows via milking, and while it has very little nutritional value can counter the effects of most magical effects as well as providing being used in cooking in many ways. it can also be used to make butter and cheese, both of which are incredibly useful in a large amount of cooking.

honey can be found in beehives and is comprised of flower nectar and bee spit. it can be harvested to serve as a sweetener in many dishes, and can be drunken if you feel like it. 

chicken eggs are used in alot of cooking as a binding agent and source of protein. not recommend, but you can eat them raw. not recommended,  but you could mix raw eggs and honey to create rather monstrous drink.

dragon eggs are very rare, but sometimes eaten as a delicacy. they are fairly nutritionally similar to chicken eggs.

salmon roe or salmon eggs are small orange colored salty spheres that are often eaten raw.

the mushrooms that grow on mooshrooms can be harvested via shears and are virtually indistinguishable from other mushrooms.

fruit:

apples are a sweet fruit eaten raw or cooked into desserts

melons are large fruits that grow on a vine with soft red flesh, while they are very tasty they are not recommended for cooking

pumpkins are large orange gourds. the flesh is often used in baking of many kinds, and the seeds are roasted for a nice snack.

sweet berries while they are often eaten raw, they are also great for jam, baked goods, and even wine making.

rose hips not recommended to be eaten raw, they are good for jams, ketchup,  soups, and even tea.

cacao beans while they can be eaten raw, are often taken through a process of roasting, drying, and fermentation to be used for cocoa power and chocolate in many deserts and other recipes.

chorus fruit the strange fruits local to the end they are full of teleportation magic and need to be cooked to be safely eaten. they are often eaten raw, but are very dry. they are typically used in baking. they have a unique, but not particularly strong flavor.

vegetables:

potatoes are starchy tubers. they are used in alot of cooking. you know what potatoes are.

carrots are sweet root vegetables. they are eaten raw and used in cooking. you also know what carrots are.

beetroot used in stews, or pickled and eaten, cooked with, or used in salads.

leaves, petals, seeds:

kelp, not typically eaten raw, it is often dried, and used in cooking.

acorns nuts from dark oak trees, they need to be put through a blanching process to become palatable, and are often used to make acorn flour.

alium refers to a large group of plants, this includes chives, onions, and garlic.

tulips have edible petals that are eaten raw or candied

rose petals are edible, and while they can be eaten raw, are often candied or used to make rose water which is often used as flavoring in baking.

dandelions are completely edible, often used in salads.

spruce cones in the springtime when they are green they can be eaten raw or cooked and eaten whole(like a corn on the cob). during the winter the nuts can be extracted and eaten or used in cooking.

spruce tips are the fresh growth that can be found in the springtime, they can be eaten raw, dreid, canied, and used in cooking.

spruce needles are not particularly tasty, but can be eaten in a pinch, and can be used to make tea.

sunflower seeds can be eaten raw or roasted, can also be made into sunflower oil, which is very useful for cooking.

poppy seeds: while the majority of the plant is poisonous, te seeds are often used in cooking to add flavor.

fern tips: the growth tips of ferns, sometimes eaten raw, often pickled.

wheat is a basic grain typically used in baking and occasionally in stews.

fungus:

brown mushrooms are one kind of mushroom found through the overworld, can be eaten raw, also used in cooking.

red mushrooms: another kind of mushroom native to the overworld,  usually used in cooking.

crimson fungus is from the nether and is very dry and fibrous, typically used in cooking if eaten at all.

crimson roots are roots put off from crimson fungus trees. when grated they have a strangely peppery taste and are used as a spice.

other:

spruce and birch inner bark are edible and used as flavoring.

some varieties of jungle tree bark is literally just cinnamon

orchids are typically poisonous, but one verifies seeds are used as a common flavoring in baking. (vanilla beans)

water is water, sea water can be boiled to make sea salt.

this has been an overview of all the potentially edible things in minecraft. (the base ingredients) have fun with your fic writing.

[hext00ns]

E.T.L.C. (Extra Terrestrial Love and Care) {@sicktember}

AO3 l!nk in comments

Ships: Don Dogoier/Ahim de Famille/Joe Gibken/Ikari Gai/Captain Marvelous/Luka Millfy

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Description: When their resident human falls ill, the Gokaigers attempt to find a way to help.

{Sicktember 2022 Day 9: Home Remedy}

Gai was always one of the first to wake. When Don was half done with breakfast and Luka and Marvelous had finally risen from their own sleep, it was much more obvious that an excitable silver presence was missing.

When the rest of the crew sat down for breakfast and Gai still hadn’t come out a feeling of concern wafted in the air. Of course, that worry didn’t keep Marvelous from attempting to steal food off the missing ranger’s plate. Only for Ahim to slap his hand away with a calm smile.

“Maybe one of us should go see if he’s alright,” she then suggested to the obvious silent question.

As if on cue, Gai finally walked out of his room. However, there was no energy to his steps. He seemed lethargic and practically still asleep. He made a turn into the kitchen before walking back out with a bag of spicy chips.

“Gai, are you going to eat those for breakfast?” Don asked, trying and failing to hide the insult out of his voice.

The human looked up at him, already shoving a handful into his mouth. He looked down at the bag in his hands then back to his crew, the gears in his head almost visually turning on his features. “Oh!” He swallowed what he had before explaining, “My nose is stuffy.”

“Your… nose?” Ahim questioned with a tilt of her head.

Gai nodded. “The spicy makes my face open up when it’s all,” he waved his hands around before making a noise of disgust and discomfort.

“Open up?” Luka parroted in question.

“He’s sick,” Marvelous finally said around his own food. He didn’t bother to look up but the others turned to him. They then turned back to Gai.

“You’re sick?” Ahim questioned worriedly. Both she and Don got up from their chairs to approach him.

Gai waved his hands and took a step back. “Ah! Not really- well I mean… I feel a little off but- but I’m probably fine!”

The slide of the chair made everyone turn back to Marvelous. He stood with Joe and Luka quickly following suit.

Joe walked over and lifted Gai over his shoulder without another word. The other made a sound of surprise but didn’t try to move from his grip. He was more used to being lifted around by the others than he’d realized.

Don took the bag from him and looked at the chip with a curious frown. “Is this a normal remedy on earth?”

“Uhh, not really,” Gai admitted. “I used to do it a lot in school when I got sick and had stuff to do. It’s a good quick way to clear your sinuses!”

Ahim ran a hand over his cheek with a smile. “That doesn’t sound very healthy even for humans.”

“Uhh, I mean it’s not… super unhealthy,” Gai mumbled. “Potatoes and peppers are vegetables! And those are probably in them somewhere.”

“Alright,” Marvelous cut him off from continuing his futile attempt of convincing them. “You’re on sick time. Bed.”

Joe started walking towards the rooms.

“Wh-wait! But what if the Zangyack attack? Or you guys need to get a grand power!” Gai stammered out to try and convince them.

“I’m sure we can figure it out for a few days,” Luka smirked.

Once Joe had taken Gai back to his room, he laid the other down on his bed. “How sick are you?” he questioned. “Honestly.”

Gai frowned. “I’m congested and my throat kinda hurts,” he admitted.

Joe gave a hum and nodded. “They’re probably going to try and nurse you back to health.”

Gai blushed some at that. He couldn’t lie the idea of the others fretting over him like that was kinda sweet. It didn’t change the fact that he hated being stuck in bed all day.

“None of us know anything about humans, though,” Joe added. “You’ll have to make sure they don’t accidentally make it worse.” It was obviously a joke by the small smile Joe flashed him. Even if there was a small bit of truth to his words.

“Ah! Joe-san,” Gai called before the other could leave. “If you guys meet another sentai, promise to take lots of pictures and get their autograph for me!”

Joe gave another smile before nodding. “Yeah, of course.” He bent down to press a kiss to Gai’s temple before walking out with a, “feel better soon.”

---

Gai had drifted in and out of sleep for a while before he was fully roused by the sound of others in his room. The rest of the crew had found their way in as he was waking up. Joe opting to lean against the doorway behind the rest of them.

“We looked into some earth home remedy methods to try and help a fast recovery,” Ahim explained to the tired human.

Marvelous walked over to his bed and started to shove a large bag of oranges under his pillow.

“Wh-what? Wait! What are you doing?” Gai tried to stop the other. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and fully sat up in bed.

Marvelous stood and shoved the bag to his face. “Sleeping on oranges helps with being sick. Doesn’t it?”

“I- what? Where did you hear that?”

The captain shrugged. “Read it somewhere I think.”

“That sounds stupid anyways,” Luka said as she pushed past him. “Here! Suck on this.” She started shoving her hand into Gai’s face.

He pushed her hand away so he could get a good look at what she was holding only to see a live frog. “I’m not putting that in my mouth!” he shrieked.

“Why not?” Luka hissed out. “Don’t you want to get better?”

“Yes but- how is that going to help?”

“I saw it on TV,” Luka explained. “Now don’t be a coward!” She tried to shove it back into his face.

“That was a cartoon!” Gai cried. “That’s not an actual thing! Luka-san!”

Don finally stepped up and gently pulled Luka’s arm back. “I think you should take that back outside.”

Luka frowned but stepped back to stand with Marvelous. He looked at her with a raised brow. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Wasn’t like your idea was any better.” Marvelous only smirked.

“Here,” Don said to Gai, handing him a mustard bottle. “I read in a book that this clears up sinuses.”

“Oh so eating mustard is more normal than sucking on a frog,” Luka mumbled with a huff.

“Actually, you’re supposed to rub it on your chest,” Don explained.

Marvelous and Luka made matching faces of disgust.

“I think I’ve heard of that one too,” Gai mumbled.

Don beamed with pride, clearly happy he’d done something right.

“But,” Gai continued. “I don’t really want to pour mustard on myself. It is kinda gross…”

“Hah!” Luka called out, pointing the frog at Don.

“At least mine was something humans actually use,” he mumbled at her.

Ahim was the next to step forward. Gai tried not to make a face, fearful of whatever else his loving, yet clueless crew had come up with. However, he quickly noted that Ahim wasn’t holding anything. Instead, she smiled at him and said, “I also looked into some remedies here on earth. But, I thought it would be best to instead ask you what you needed to feel better.”

Gai blinked at her for a moment before his face broke out into a relaxed smile. “I guess, if I’m stuck in bed, would you make me some tea? It helps with sore throats.”

Ahim nodded and pressed a kiss to his temple before leaving to do just that.

Gai looked up to the others and said, “Even though most of your ideas were kinda gross, it still means a lot that you guys care so much.”

Matching smiles formed around him. “What?” Marvelous started. “You think we wouldn’t care about our own crew when he’s sick?” he humorously berated as he hooked one arm around the other’s neck and used his other hand to noogy the human.

Gai let out sounds of surprise while chuckles fell from the rest in the room.

When Ahim walked back in she put her hand to Marvelous’ shoulder. “I think it’s best not to injure the sick,” she chastised with a smile.

Marvelous let go and shrugged. “He’s fine.”

Gai thanked Ahim for his tea as he took it from her.

Luka let out a sudden hum, causing eyes on her. “Is now a bad time to say I lost the frog?”

[wjbsart]

A complete, very long list of all GBoard-combinable emojis because I can't find one anywhere.

Ok so for those who haven't seen my stuff (or have only seen my Bionicle posts), I sometimes emoji mashup redraws, with the recent fourth one using GBoard-based fusions. Frustratingly, there's no actual list of fusion-compatible emojis, so I'll attempt to compile them, in a list below the "Read More" thing:

Green/▢ = compatible with fusion Blue/△ = only works with certain emojis Red/◯ = not compatible with fusion

Also, since other people's terms for specific emojis might not match up with mine, I recommend using CTRL+F and then doing this to find the specific emoji you're looking for. This list is in the order presented in GBoard's Emoji menu. Some of them will be generic unicode symbols, I don't know how to change that, sorry for the inconvenience. Also, I won't aknowledge multi-category Emoji.

Smileys and Emoticons

😀Open-mouthed smile▢

😃Wide-eyed smile▢

😄Closed-eyed smile▢

😁Closed-eyed grin▢

😆Laughing▢

😅Sweating smile▢

😂Cry-laughing▢

🤣Cry-ROFLing▢

😭Crying▢

😗Kissing▢

😙Kissing, closed eyes▢

😚Kissing, blushing▢

😘Kissing, winking w/ heart▢

🥰Surrounded by hearts▢

😍Heart-eyes▢

🤩Star-eyes▢

🥳Noisemaker and party-hat▢

🤗Hugging▢

🙃Upside-down▢

🙂Smile▢

☺Blushing, smiling▢

😊Blushing▢

😏Looking off to the side▢

😌Relieved▢

😉Winking▢

🤭Hand over mouth▢

😶Nightmare fuel Mouthless▢

😐Neutral▢

😑-_-▢

😔Pensive▢

😋Licking lips▢

😛Tongue out▢

😝Tongue out, eyes closed▢

😜Tongue out, winking▢

🤪Tongue out, wide-eyed▢

🤔Hmmm▢

🤨Suspicious▢

🧐Monocle▢

🙄Rolling eyes▢

😒Unamused▢

😤Snorting▢

😠Angry▢

😡Angry, red▢

🤬Swearing▢

☹Frown▢

🙁Frown but less▢

😕Confused▢

😟Distraught▢

🥺Pleading▢

😳AWOOGA Flushed▢

😬Yikes▢

🤐Zip▢

🤫Shushing▢

😰Distraught, sweating▢

😧Distraught, shocked▢

😦Distraught, neutral▢

😮Open mouth▢

😯Open mouth, surprised▢

😲Shocked▢

😱Horrified▢

🤯Your head asplode Mind blown▢

😢Crying, single tear▢

😥Crying, less sad▢

😓Sweating▢

😞Dissapointed▢

😖Pained▢

😣Persevering▢

😩Weary▢

😫Tired▢

🤤Drooling▢

😴Sleeping▢

😪Sleeping but different?▢

🌛Left-facing moon▢

🌜Right-facing moon▢

🌚New moon face◯

🌝Full moon face◯

🌞The sun▢

🤢Queasy▢

🤮Vomiting▢

🤧Sneezing▢

🤒Unwell▢

🤕Bandaged▢

🥴Drunk▢

😵Dizzy▢

🥵Hot▢

🥶Cold▢

😷Masked up▢

😇Angel▢

🤠yee haw▢

🤑Money-tongue▢

😎Cool▢

🤓Nerd▢

🤥Lying▢

🤡Clown▢

👻Ghost▢

💩Poop▢

👽Ayy lmao Alien▢

🤖Robot▢

🎃Jack-o-Lantern▢

😈Demon 1▢

👿Demon 2▢

👹Oni◯

👺Tengu◯

☠Skull and crossbones▢

🔥Fire▢

💫Star with trail▢

⭐Star▢

🌟Star with bits▢

✨Stars▢

⚡Lightning◯

💥Explosion◯

💯100△

💢Anime anger symbol◯

💨Steam▢

💦Sweat Droplets▢

💤Zzz▢

🕳Hole▢

🎉Party popper▢

🎊Confetti ball▢

😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾Literally all the "cat in different emotions" emojis▢

❤🧡💛💚💙💜🖤Literally all the coloured hearts△

♥Heart suit▢

💘Heart with arrow▢

💝Heart with ribbon▢

💖Shiny heart▢

💗Growing heart▢

💓Beating heart▢

💞Swirling hearts▢

💕Two hearts▢

💌Love letter▢

💟Heart in square▢

❣Heart exclamation mark▢

💔Broken heart▢

💋Kiss▢

👥Two silhouettes◯

👤Silhouette◯

🗣Talking silhouette◯

👣Footprints◯

🧠Brain◯

🦠Microbe▢

🦷Tooth◯

🦴Bone◯

💀Skull▢

👀Eyes◯

👁Eye▢

👄Lips◯

👅Tongue◯

👃👂🦶🦵💪👍👎👏🙌👐Every other body part and hand gesture, seriously this isn't even all of them◯

People

Seriously, I don't know why none of the people-category emojis are Fusion-compatible. Let's just move on.◯

Animals and Nature

💐Bunch of flowers▢

🌹Rose▢

🥀Wilted rose◯

🌷Tulip▢

🌺Hibiscus flower◯

🌸Cherry blossom▢

🏵Rosette◯

🌻Sunflower◯

🌼Daisy▢

💮White flower◯

🍂Falling leaves◯

🍁Maple leaf◯

🌾Rice plants◯

🌱Seedling◯

🌿Herb◯

🍃Falling leaves again◯

☘3-leaf clover◯

🍀4-leaf clover◯

🌵Cactus▢

🌴Palm tree◯

🌳Deciduous tree◯

🌲Coniferous tree▢

🏞National park◯

⛰Mountain◯

🌊Wave◯

🌬Wind◯

🌀Tornado symbol◯

🌁Foggy scene◯

🌫Fog▢

🌪Tornado▢

☃Snowman (with snow)▢

⛄Snowman (without snow)▢

❄Snowflake

🏔Mountain with snow◯

🌡Thermometer◯

🌋Volcano◯

🏜Desert◯

🏝Desert island◯

🏖Beach◯

🌅Sunrise/set (water)◯

🌄Sunrise/set (mountains)◯

☀Sun▢

🌤Sun with cloud◯

⛅Sun and cloud◯

🌥Cloud with sun◯

🌦Sun and cloud with rain◯

☁Cloud▢

🌨Snowcloud◯

⛈Stormcloud◯

🌩Thundercloud◯

🌧Raincloud◯

💧Drop◯

☔Umbrella with rain◯

🌈Rainbow▢

✨Sparkles▢

🌙Crescent Moon◯

☄Comet◯

🌠Shooting star▢

🌌Milky Way◯

🌉Bridge◯

🌆City in the evening▢

🌃City at night▢

🌍🌏🌎Earth▢

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘The moon◯

🙈🙉🙊🐵Monkeys, wise or not▢

🦁Lion face▢

🐯Tiger face◯

🐱Cat face▢

🐶Dog face◯

🐺Wolf face◯

🐻Bear face▢

🐨Koala face▢

🐼Panda face▢

🐹Hamster face◯

🐭Mouse face◯

🐰Rabbit face▢

🦊Fox face◯

🦝Raccoon face◯

🐮Cow face◯

🐷Pig face▢

🐽Pig nose▢

🐗Boar head◯

🦓Zebra head◯

🦄Unicorn head▢

🐴Horse head◯

🐸Frog face◯

🐲Dragon head◯

🦎Lizard◯

🐉Dragon◯

🦖T-Rex◯

🦕Diplodocus◯

🐢Turtle▢

🐊Crocodile◯

🐍Snake◯

🐁Mouse▢

🐀Rat◯

🐇Rabbit▢

🐈Cat▢

🐩Poodle◯

🐕Dog◯

🐅Tiger◯

🐆Leopard◯

🐎Horse◯

🐖Pig▢

🐄Cow◯

🐂Bull◯

🐃Water buffalo◯

🐏Ram◯

🐑Sheep◯

🐐Goat▢

🦌Deer▢

🦙Llama▢

🦘Kangaroo◯

🐘Elephant◯

🦏Rhinoceros◯

🦛Hippopotamus◯

🦒Giraffe◯

🐒Monkey▢

🦍Gorilla◯

🐪🐫Camels◯

🐿Squirrel (why does the squirrel of all things have a Unicode symbol?)◯

🦡Badger◯

🦔Hedgehog▢

🦇Bat▢

🐓Cockerel/rooster◯

🐔Chicken◯

🐣🐥🐤Chicks◯

🐦Bird▢

🦉Owl▢

🦅Eagle◯

🦜Parrot◯

🕊Dove◯

🦢Swan◯

🦚Peacock◯

🦃Turkey◯

🦆Duck◯

🐧Penguin◯

🦈Shark◯

🐬Dolphin◯

🐋🐳Whales◯

🐟Fish▢

🐠Tropical fish◯

🐡Pufferfish◯

🦐Prawn◯

🦞Lobster◯

🦀Crab◯

🦑Squid◯

🐙Octopus▢

🦂Scorpion▢

🕷Spider▢

🕸Spiderweb◯

🐚Shell◯

🐌Snail▢

🐜Ant◯

🦗Grasshopper◯

🦟Mosquito◯

🐝Bee▢

🐞Ladybird◯

🦋Butterfly◯

🐛"Bug" yeah sure ok◯

🐾Pawprints◯

Food and Drink

🍓Strawberry▢

🍒Cherry◯

🍎Red apple◯

🍉Watermelon◯

🍑Peach◯

🍊Orange◯

🥭Mango◯

🍍Pineapple▢

🍌Banana◯

🍋Lemon▢

🍈Melon◯

🍏Green apple◯

🍐Pear◯

🥝Kiwi◯

🍇Grapes◯

🥥Coconut◯

🍅Tomato◯

🌶Chili▢

🍄Mushroom◯

🥕Carrot◯

🍠Sweet potato◯

🌽Corn◯

🥦Broccoli◯

🥒Cucumber◯

🥬Lettuce◯

🥑Avocado▢

🍆Aubergine◯

🥔Potato◯

🌰Nut◯

🥜Peanuts◯

🍞Bread▢

🥐Croissant◯

🥖Baguette▢

🥯Bagel◯

🥞Pancakes◯

🍳Frying pan◯

🥚Egg (somehow)◯

🧀Cheese▢

🥓Bacon◯

🥩Meat◯

🍗Chicken leg◯

🍖Anime meat◯

🍔Burger◯

🌭Hotdog▢

🥪Sandwich◯

🥨Pretzel◯

🍟Chips◯

🍕Pizza◯

🌮Taco◯

🌯Wrap◯

🥙Stuffed flatbread◯

🥘Paella◯

🍝Spaghetti◯

🥫Can◯

🥣Bowl◯

🥗Salad◯

🍲Pot of food◯

🍛Curry◯

🍜Noodles◯

🍣Sushi◯

🍤Fried prawn◯

🥡Takeaway container◯

🍚Cooked rice◯

🍱Bento◯

🥟Dumpling◯

🍢Oden◯

🍙Jelly Donut Rice ball◯

🍘Rice cracker◯

🍥Fishcake◯

🍡Dango◯

🥠Fortune cookie◯

🥮Moon cake◯

🍧Shave ice◯

🍨Ice cream◯

🍦See above◯

🥧Pie◯

🍰Cake slice◯

🍮Custard mate what kinda custard have you been eating, this is clearly a créme caramel◯

🎂Birthday cake▢

🧁Cupcake▢

🍭Lollipop◯

🍬Boiled sweet◯

🍫Chocolate◯

🍩Donut◯

🍪Cookie◯

🍯Honey◯

🧂Salt◯

🍿Popcorn◯

🥤Soft drink◯

🥛Milk◯

🍼Baby bottle◯

🍵Green tea◯

☕Coffee▢

🍺Beer◯

🍻Beers, plural◯

🥂Champagne glasses◯

🍾Champagne◯

🍷Red red wine◯

🥃Whiskey◯

🍸Martini◯

🍹Cocktail◯

🍶Sake◯

🥢Chopsticks◯

🍴Knife and fork▢

🥄Spoon◯

🔪Kitchen knife◯

🍽Plate▢

Travel and Places

🛑🎡Everything from the stop sign to Ferris wheel◯

🎠Merry-go-round horse▢

🎪🏕Everything from circus tent to campsite◯

🌇City at sunset yes I'm surprised as you are▢

🛤Train tracks◯

🛣Road◯

🗺Map◯

🗾Japan is an island by the sea filled with volcanoes and it's beautifuul!◯

🌐Globe with meridian lines▢

💺Plane seat◯

🧳Luggage◯

Activities and Events

🎈Balloon▢

🎀Bow◯

🎁Present◯

🎇Sparkler◯

🎆Fireworks◯

🧨Dynamite Firecracker◯

🧧Red envelope◯

🎐Wind chime◯

🎏Fish streamers◯

🎎Japanese dolls (that's what the emoji's called, don't @ me with the actual name for them)◯

🎑Moon viewing ceremony◯

🎍Pine decoration◯

🎋Tanabata◯

🎄Christmas tree▢

🎗Ribbon△

🥇🥈🥉🏅🎖Medals◯

🏆Trophy◯

📣Megaphone◯

🥅Goal◯

⚽⚾🥎🏀🏐🏈🏉🎾🏸🥍🏏🏑🏒SPORTS◯

🥌Curling stone◯

🛷Rosebud Sled◯

🎿Ski◯

⛸Skate◯

⛳Golf-hole◯

🎯Target◯

🏹Bow◯

🥏Frisbee◯

🎣Fishing rod▢

🎽Running shirt◯

🥋Martial arts uniform◯

🥊Boxing glove◯

🎱8-ball◯

🏓Ping-pong◯

🎳Bowling◯

♟Chess◯

🧩Puzzle piece◯

🎮Controller◯

🕹Joystick◯

👾Videogame alien◯

🔫Gun◯

🎲Dice◯

🎰Slot machine◯

🎴Flower playing card◯

🀄Mahjong tile◯

🃏Joker◯

🎩Top hat◯

📷📸Camera◯

🖼Painting◯

🖌Paintbrush◯

🖍Crayon◯

🧵String◯

🧶Wool◯

🎼🎵🎶Music▢

🎷🎺🎸🎻🥁Instruments◯

🎤Mic◯

🎧Headphones▢

🎚🎛🎙📻Assorted audio stuff◯

📺TV◯

📼VHS◯

📹Camcorder◯

📽Projector◯

🎥Film camera◯

🎞Film◯

🎬Clapperboard◯

🎭Comedy and tragedy masks◯

🎫🎟Tickets◯

Objects

📱🧻Everything from smartphone to toilet roll◯

🧸Teddy bear▢

🧷🧢Everything from safety pin to baseball cap◯

👑Crown▢

🎒💍Everything from backpack to ring◯

💎Diamond▢

💄👓Everything from lipstick to glasses◯

🕶Sunglasses▢

🥽📁Everything from goggles to folder◯

🕶Newspaper▢

🗞🔎Everything from rolled-up newspaper to right-pointing magnifying glass◯

🔮Crystal ball▢

🧿🔓Everything from Nazar amulet to open lock◯

Symbols

There are no compatible non-repeated Emoji here.◯

Flags

Aaaaand none here either.◯

Feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong.

[lothlaer]

A/N: 1.3k of stupider-than-it-seems yennskier feat. geralt for @meliteles-tits 

Summary: Modern AU. Jaskier and Yennefer high sex. But not. [CW: implied drug use]

The candlelight flickers and ripples across Yennefer’s skin, each flash of the flames catching on the creases of her flesh. Jaskier stares at the shadows her eyelashes create across her cheeks, down past the wet pink of her lips to follow the line of her throat, the cascading waves of hair rolling over her collarbones. He kisses her there, right on the sharp jut of bone, his eyelids heavy, only a pulsing glow of orange in his vision.

God she tastes fucking incredible.

Like sweat and perfume and yet sweet, nectarine, ambrosia. He tongues at the dip there, feels her groan hum through his lips, his mouth, his jaw, his throat, his very being. She moves where she’s splayed across his hips, her thighs pressing hot and strong into him. She tangles her hands in his hair, tugs a little, moves her fingers again and again and again in a desperate massage. He moans – a keening, pathetic noise she should be taking the piss out of him for making, but instead she pulls his head back with the fist gripping at his skull, forces him to bare his face to her.

Fuck she looks fucking incredible. 

He gets to gaze up at her, consider the halo of light that frames her head and what it means – wonders how his eyes haven’t been burned out of his skull for daring to look at such a woman – for a long, long time. Her eyes are blown black, glittering in the low light, devilish and fixed on him. Her mouth curves sharply, wet and red as blood. She might eat him. He wants her to eat him.

She leans down so slowly it almost hurts, her breath so loud and so hot and so intense against his mouth and then they’re kissing and it’s everything, it’s the whole world captured in one press of skin to skin, and she’s going to consume him.

“Jaskier,” Yennefer murmurs against his lips as she drags her nails across his scalp. “Jaskier.”

It’s breathless and husky and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard in his life. He wonders if he could pass out from how hot this is. His skin is on fire. The candle flames are touching him everywhere and they’re nothing compared to how she feels, her knees either side of him, pressing him down into the sofa, and god he wishes she weren’t wearing clothes but fuck that would probably literally kill him.

She grinds on him again, pushing and settling more than her weight onto him, forcing him down into the cushion underneath. The fire licks at his skin, scalding hot.

Fuck she fucking knows how to fucking… fuck.

His brain is utter mush. His heart’s beating ridiculously fast. He’s definitely going to die and he’s going to be so thankful for it. He’s going to buy her wine and dark chocolate and like seventeen thousand million bouquets of flowers to thank her for this, even though he’s going to be dead.

His tongue feels fat in his mouth, unwieldy but eager nonetheless. Yennefer doesn’t seem to mind – she meets his kisses with equal enthusiasm. He runs his hands ups her sides, lets his fingers catch fire, matches striking the box and flaring to life where his bare skin touches hers. It’s ecstasy. Well. It’s– that’s—

Oh fuck.

He breaks the kiss, finds her cheek and goes on, presses his love and adoration and joy to the hinge of her jaw. He heaves up the rhythm that sits beneath his ribcage into his throat and sings it to her in almost inaudible whispers, repeating her name over and over until he’s sure it’s the only song he’s ever sung. He settles at her neck to feel where the blood pumps thick and gives in, lets go, lets her take what she wants from him, rolling her hips against him over and over.

Oh, okay, he thinks, I am actively dying.

A flash of blinding white light crashes over him in pure violence and it hurts, and Yennefer stops moving, and it’s all falling away, he’s stopped breathing, he’s dead, he’s—

He turns his head, and drags himself into the light.

 * * *

Geralt could not find the pizza that Jaskier likes at the supermarket.

It’s always buried deep in the freezer section, tucked away at the back, and god knows why a shitty off-brand freezer pizza is the man’s favourite but it is. Jaskier was hungry, and so was Yen, and so is Geralt. He’s settled for the fresh pizzas from the fridge section instead (which he prefers anyway) and bought potato wedges to placate Jaskier. If he complains, Geralt will simply eat it all himself.

He locks the car and trudges through the puddles in the cracks of the paving stones that lead to their front door, feeling muddy water splash up against his ankles. Unlocking the door reveals an unnerving quietness – when he’d left, Yennefer and Jaskier had had their music turned up high, shouting over the beat to be heard. They’d had several full conversations like that before they’d turned to Geralt, begging him to buy them food. Now it’s almost silent, only the hum of the fridge in the kitchen to be heard. And the main lights have been turned off – though he can see through the doorway the low glow of the fairy lights Jaskier strung across the living room walls when they first moved in. They’ve been flashing all evening, the batteries obviously struggling.

Geralt closes the door behind him, one hand holding three plastic bags filled with pizzas and potato wedges and wine and batteries, and steps up to the open living room door.

It’s… this sort of thing really shouldn’t surprise him anymore. He sighs.

Yennefer is straddling Jaskier’s lap, her hips moving in clumsy back and forth motions, both of them fully dressed. Their mouths are glued together, making sticky wet noises. It looks and sounds as if they’re fourteen-year olds who’ve never kissed before trying to eat each other’s faces. Perhaps too enthusiastically. Definitely too enthusiastically. It’s really kind of disgusting.

It’s practically pitch black in the room – Geralt can hardly make them out. The fairy lights keep flickering as Jaskier moves to suck along Yen’s jaw. A garbled version of her name falls out of his mouth again and again, and she groans long and deep. Jaskier presses his nose to her neck as she keeps moving jerkily across his lap, their legs at odd angles and none of it looking particularly comfortable. In fact, it’s probably one of the most unsexy things Geralt has ever seen them do, and he’s mostly confused as to why they seem so into it.

Jaskier pants a word Geralt can’t make out, slurred as if he’s—

Geralt flicks on the hallway light.

They flinch like they’ve been burnt before turning their heads, finally noticing his presence. They squint up at him, utterly fucked, their mouths wet and hair a mess. Geralt watches their eyes widen, pupils blown so big he can barely see their irises.

Well. That explains it.

The fairy lights twitch in their death throes.

“Geralt, the candles are going out,” Jaskier says, very serious. “Also I was on fucking fire and then I think I died.”

Yennefer smiles sloppily. “Yeah, he died.” She tugs on his hair to pull his head back. “I killed him. But he’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier parrots, totally at ease despite the painful angle of his neck.

Yennefer lets go of him and starts bouncing up and down on his lap. The sofa springs squeak in the otherwise silent room.  

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier says eloquently, turning back to press his face directly between Yen’s tits while she uses him like a trampoline. He groans filthily into her chest. “’m def’n’tly dead.”  

Geralt sighs again, and goes to put the pizzas in the oven.

[nonbinary-renfri]

inspired by this post by @elliestormfound

It’s Lambert’s turn to cook dinner tonight for the witchers wintering in the keep and he’s feeling rather inspired, after Geralt and Eskel went ice fishing and came back with four lovely large trout. Going down to the root cellar while the other two witchers were taking care of the gutting and cleaning and de-scaling of the fish out in the yard, Lambert picked out some onions and some potatoes and some garlic. He also took a container of the goat milk butter they’d started making after Eskel had insisted on getting the keep its own mini goat herd. The animals themselves were stinky, ungrateful bastards, but even Lambert would admit having the fresh milk was nice. Once they finally figured out this goat cheese thing, it’d be even nicer.

But for now Lambert’s heading back upstairs with a basket full of potatoes and onions and garlic and is greeted by some absolutely beautiful fish fillets laid out on the kitchen counter. A lesser man- such as many high-class chefs with their fancy restaurants in the cities- might shed a tear at the sight of such divine knife work. Lambert is so glad Eskel let Geralt do the filleting this time.

He dices onions and garlic and preps the potatoes, washing them and piercing them in several places with a knife. The wood-stove is already lit, doing its best to spread fingers of warmth through Kaer Morhen’s cold stones. Opening up two of the burners, Lambert plunks down a pair of heavy iron saucepans onto the stove. He makes two batches of an onion-butter sauce, one with garlic and one without. While that’s simmering, he seasons the fish with rock salt that he’s fairly certain Vesemir collects and grinds himself, and then divides the fillets out evenly between two baking pans. Lambert pours the sauce over the fish before sliding them, along with the potatoes, into the large oven to slow cook.

With some time to kill, he washes the dishes he’s created so far and then starts poking around in the kitchen cabinets. He finds things he knew were there, like shelves filled with jars of different spices and a section dedicated to baking supplies, and things he didn’t, like glass bottles of apple cider in a bottom cupboard. Lambert uncorks one and sniffs it, and, yep, that is apple cider and it’s still fairly fresh too, probably squeezed and bottled by Vesemir this past autumn. He doesn’t think the old man will mind awfully if Lambert commandeers some of it; it’s for a good cause, and it’s not like Vesemir won’t also get a share of it.

Putting a larger pot on the stove top, Lambert mixes up a hot drink made with apple cider, a splash of squeezed fruit juice, and spices. Sticks of cinnamon and dried orange and lemon slices float in bubbling amber liquid as it simmers on the burner. Dinner will be done before the wassail is, but that’s alright; they can have it as a nice follow-up afterwards.

Lambert glances up from stirring the drink as Vesemir enters the kitchen. The old witcher is carrying a basket with fresh broccoli from the winter garden, tiny bits of ice glimmering on green buds from being washed outdoors in the cold. Taking a deep breath in, he smiles appreciatively. “It smells delicious.” Yellow irises find the bottles of apple cider out on the countertop. “Ah. I see you got into my juice stores.”

“For a good cause, old man.”

Vesemir’s nostrils flare as he leans towards the pot. “Yes, indeed. An after-dinner treat?”

How does he always know these things. “Yeah,” Lambert admits.

“Would you be willing to trust me to watch over your handiwork for a bit? I thought I would add broccoli to the menu tonight, but the table in the hall could really use a wipe down before we sit down to eat.”

“Sure, I can go do that. Stir the pot on the stove occasionally and don’t fucking burn my food, okay?”

Vesemir acquiesces with a nod and waves the younger witcher out the door.

The table is rather dusty and bread crumb-covered from a multitude of meals, so Lambert wipes it down with a dry cloth and then a wet one. He also takes the opportunity to set the table, putting out plates and silverware for all the witchers, though not in the pompous, shitty way a noble household would. Just a fork and a knife, thank you very much. The butter dish and the ceramic howling wolf salt and pepper shakers Eskel had brought back one winter go on the table too. Vesemir keeps his eyes on the broccoli he has searing on the stove as Lambert comes in and out of the kitchen, pretending not to notice as the younger snags napkins for the table that he knows will be neatly folded beside their plates. And he thinks they don’t know that he cares.

Eventually all the food is done cooking and the old witcher lets Lambert take care of the plating of things, helping him carry the platters of roast potatoes and fish and broccoli into the hall. The smells must reach the other witchers in the keep as Geralt and Eskel quickly appear at the door, dressed in clean clothes with cheeks pink-flushed and the slightly spicy-sweet scent from the witch hazel soap they keep in the hot springs wafting off of them.

“Wow, that smells good,” Eskel comments. Geralt’s nostrils flare in agreement and the two are quick to take their usual seats at the table, eagerly eyeing the spread in front of them.

As soon as Vesemir fills his plate, the rest of them are free to dig in as well. Scenting the air, mouth partway open, Geralt gravitates towards the fish without garlic and scoops a good chunk onto his plate. Eskel takes a smaller piece from the same pan and a similar one from the other as well. Like Vesemir, Lambert takes a big serving of the fish with garlic. They all take potatoes and cut them open, steam wafting into the air from the well-cooked soft white insides. Goat butter melts quickly from the heat and they sprinkle rock salt on top of potatoes now drenched in gold. Broccoli joins the rest of the food on their plates and they eat in silence for a while, too hungry from the day’s work and grateful for a good meal to have the wherewithal to interrupt it with conversation.

Eventually though, as Vesemir and Geralt go back for second servings of their preferred fish and Eskel takes more broccoli, they find themselves able to take their concentration enough off the food to talk.

“Thank you for making dinner, Lambert,” Geralt says, because sometimes he can be a polite bastard. Lambert suspects it has something to do with all that time the white-haired man spends around a certain uppity sorceress.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eskel parrots, talking through a mouthful of potato because he doesn’t have a questionable influence in his life to teach him courtly manners. “’S delicious.”

Vesemir nods in agreement. “Quite.”

Resisting the urge to shrug off the praise, Lambert pretends the tips of his ears aren’t turning red. “Mhmm. Yeah. Uh. You’re welcome, I guess.” He remembers the wassail he has simmering in the kitchen still, and takes the excuse to flee the room. “Hot drinks, for after dinner. Should be done, so I’ll, uh, go get them.” Getting up and walking away, he waits until he’s completely out of eyesight of the others, because Vesemir would somehow fucking know if he didn’t, before he lets the bubbling warm feeling in his chest spill onto his face. He smiles the entire walk back to the kitchen.

Returning with a big wooden pitcher full of hot wassail that drifts the sweet scents of apples, citrus, and spices into the air with curls of steam, he pours it into the mugs gathered at the far end of the table, placing one in front of each witcher.

Vesemir, the madman, doesn’t even blow on his before gulping down a large mouthful. He swallows and immediately goes back for a second, humming his approval.

Slightly more cautious, Eskel blows on the surface of his drink before trying it. His face changes to a contemplative look and then he nods, seemingly in approval.

Geralt takes a sip from his mug with an unreadable expression. Lambert watches him carefully, knowing the other witcher can’t stand to drink apple cider on its own. Taking another sip, Geralt lets out a quiet grunt.

Lambert’s voice gets ahead of his head. “So? Is it good?” Shit shit shit way too pushy, what, do you need validation or something-

Shrugging, Geralt says, like he’s simply stating a fact, “Everything you make is good.”

There is a pleased yet embarrassed heat rising in Lambert’s cheeks, because Geralt doesn't say nice things when he doesn't mean them. “Fuck you.” Dammit, why can’t he be the kind of person who just goes speechless in moments like this.

Geralt doesn’t reply, but he’s smiling in that tiny way he thinks is unnoticeable, with the very corners of his lips and the tilt of his eyebrows, or something. The white-haired witcher doesn’t go back for seconds of the hot drink like Eskel does, or fourths like Vesemir, but he finishes the mug that Lambert poured for him, which is compliment enough in the younger’s opinion.

It’s a good night, he thinks, as they finish their drinks and Geralt and Eskel take the dishes back to the kitchen to scrub them clean. Even better as they all pile into the study, with it’s warm wooden walls and bearskin rugs a ballast against the winter’s chill. They quickly have a fire burning bright in the hearth, and the room becomes cozy and comfortable. Vesemir settles into his armchair with the old bestiary he’s currently annotating and the three younger witchers tangle together in a pile on the fur splayed before the fire. They wrestle lazily for a bit before sprawling out drowsily, serene and drifting somewhere close to sleep.

In the early hours of the next morning the armchair is empty, bestiary shut neatly on the accent table beside it, and the fire has reduced itself to cold ashes. Lambert wakes up to white hair tickling his nose and his feet tangled with Eskel’s, the other man’s calves laying on top of Geralt’s knees. Soft fur brushes his chin from the bearskin that had been spread over the three of them sometime in the night, keeping them warm beneath it with their combined body heat long after the fire had died out. There’s no window in this room but Lambert has a feeling it’s still not late enough for them to need to get up, so he lies there with his eyes closed, simply enjoying the weight and warmth of his brothers beside him.

[rosewood-liars]

I’m disappointed that the producers of the PLL TV Series wrote out the fact Hanna is canonically Jewish even if she is non - practicing and had a blended tradition family ( Ashley Marin is not to my knowledge also Jewish ). There’s a whole scene in the books where Tom tries to bond with Hanna again, recognizes that the christmas celebrations are bumming her out & makes it up to her by celebrating Hanukkah. ( I’ll probably transcribe that encounter from the companion novel at the end of this post. ) 

 I mean, maybe I should not be as upset by this as I am - because I’m not religious and have never been Jewish ever in my life. 

However, I’ve also had experienced the frustration and big sad™ when something that me and a loved one did together was discarded and this just doesn’t set well with me. 

( I think I will make more references to this ( even if she is non - practicing ) as a nod to the fact Hanna felt it was important enough to mention to Isabel during the Christmas party. ) 

First Reference: 

Hanna drove slowly the rest of the way home, taking deep, cleansing breaths. After gunning the car up her family’s driveway, she nearly crashed into a line of vehicles she didn’t recognize. There had to be about fifteen sedans, SUVs, and crossovers parked in the circular drive. Then she noticed something blinking by the garage. Christmas lights. And was that a glow-in-the-dark Santa and an inflatable gingerbread man in the front yard? She took tentative steps toward the house. Dot, wearing some kind of bizarre headpiece, yipped at her feet when she walked inside. Wait. Were those reindeer antlers? Hanna scooped him up and stared at the two plush stalks on his head. Each was tipped with a tiny jingle bell. “Who did this to you?” Hanna whispered, ripping them off. Dot just licked her face. She looked around the living room and gasped. Holly leaves snaked around the banister. A mechanical Mrs. Claus waved from the console table that had once held Hanna’s mother’s austere ceramic vases. A tall, tinsel-laden tree stood in the corner, and the fireplace, which Hanna couldn’t remember the family ever using, was ablaze. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” played on the stereo at maximum volume, and the whole house smelled like honey-glazed ham. “Hello?” Hanna called out. Laughter floated out from the kitchen, first Isabel’s goose-honk chortle, then her dad’s booming guffaw. Hanna rounded the corner. The kitchen was packed with people holding champagne flutes and appetizer plates filled with mini quiches and wedges of Brie. Many of them wore Santa hats, including Hanna’s dad. Isabel stood in the corner, wearing a red velvet dress tipped with Mrs. Claus white fur on the cuffs and hem, and Kate had on a tight-fitting red jersey sheath and black-and-white Kate Spade heels. Mistletoe hung from the chandelier, a carafe of mulled cider sat on the counter, and plates and plates of the most delicious-looking Christmas cookies and appetizers filled the island. Isabel spied Hanna and glided over. “Hanna! Feliz Navidad! O Tannenbaum! Merry Christmas!” Hanna sniffed. “Um, actually, I’m Jewish. And so is my father.” Isabel blinked dumbly, like she couldn’t comprehend that anyone, let alone her own fiancé, could celebrate anything other than Christmas. Mr. Marin appeared at Isabel’s side. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, ruffling Hanna’s hair. Hanna stared at him incredulously. “Since when do you celebrate Christmas?” She said the word like she might have said Satan’s birthday. Mr. Marin crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’ve been celebrating it with Isabel and Kate for the past few years. I told Kate to tell you.” “Well, she didn’t,” Hanna said flatly. “We do the Twelve Days of Christmas every year. We always kick it off with a bash.” Isabel took a sip of champagne. “It’s a wonderful tradition. We started early this year with tonight—kind of a housewarming-meets-Christmas thing.” “And we’d like you to be a part of the tradition too, of course,” Mr. Marin added. Hanna stared at all of the red and green paraphernalia. Her family had never been that religious, but they lit menorah candles every night of Hanukkah. On Christmas Day, they ordered Chinese takeout, watched movie marathons, and went on a long family bike ride if the weather was decent. She liked those traditions.

Second Mention: 

She pulled into the driveway of her house, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and watch hours and hours of bad TV. Strangely, her father’s car was still in the driveway—not at Longwood Gardens. And the Christmas decorations that had festooned the front of the property were gone. When she opened the front door, it no longer smelled like fresh pine and cinnamon sticks but more like . . . potato pancakes? “Hanna!” Mr. Marin appeared from the kitchen. “There you are! Come in, come in! We have a surprise for you!” He whisked Hanna through the living room, but not before she noticed that the mechanical Mrs. Claus had vanished, the Christmas tree was unlit, and the stockings that had hung over the fireplace—there were monogrammed ones for Isabel, Kate, and Hanna’s dad, and a blank one presumably for Hanna—had been taken down. The old silver menorah Bubbe Marin had given Hanna’s parents sat on the mantel. Three candles blazed. “What’s going on?” Hanna asked suspiciously. Mr. Marin turned Hanna toward the dining room. There was a huge spread of food on the table, and Kate and Isabel were sitting in high-backed chairs, tepid smiles on their faces. “Surprise!” Mr. Marin crowed. “Happy Hanna-kah!” Hanna blinked at the items on the table. There were all the traditional Hanukkah foods her grandmother used to serve: latkes, jelly donuts called sufganiyot, kugel, chocolate coins, and a large brisket. Off to the side were the old dreidels she and her cousins had spun for hours, turning the game into a kind of truth or dare—if the dreidel fell on the gimel side, Tamar, her younger cousin, had to steal a dollar out of her mother’s wallet, and so on. A blue foil banner with Star of David cutouts was draped across the windows, and candles glowed around the room. Small gifts wrapped in silver paper sat on everyone’s plates. “I thought you guys were going to Santa’s Village,” Hanna said slowly. “Oh, we can do that any day,” Mr. Marin said. “I thought you might be a little upset since we’re doing so many Christmas activities, so we thought we’d celebrate our holiday tonight! Hanukkah—or Hanna-kah!” He gestured to the food on the table. “Kate and Isabel did some baking this evening, though some of this came from the kosher deli near Ferra’s Cheesesteaks.” “Your dad says you know all of the Hanukkah stories, Hanna,” Isabel said politely. “I’d love to hear them.” “This is all so nice.” Hanna’s heart expanded, just like the Grinch’s. This was definitely the nicest thing her dad had done for her in a long, long time. Her father passed around plates, and everyone began serving themselves latkes and pieces of brisket bathed in sauce. Hanna took a moderate amount of food, feeling virtuous from boot camp. Wine was poured—even Hanna and Kate got some—and everyone opened their gifts. Kate and Hanna got gift cards to Fermata Spa. Isabel got a small Christmas tree–shaped charm to add to her silver Pandora bracelet. Mr. Marin had given himself a new Swiss Army knife. He immediately unfolded the scissors and cut the tag off of Isabel’s bauble. Then, Mr. Marin launched into stories about Bubbe Marin, who used to make the best potato pancakes in the world. “We used to go over there every night of Hanukkah,” he explained. “She’d always have huge gifts for Hanna.” “Isn’t that sweet,” Isabel trilled, looking surprised, as though she’d never imagined someone would shower Hanna with gifts. “And she had this African gray parrot, Morty,” Mr. Marin went on, spearing a latke. “He knew every swearword in the world.” “He was crazy!” Hanna giggled. “I think I learned some new ones from him!” “And he loved to watch those tabloid shows—what were they called?” Mr. Marin’s face was flushed. “E! News,” Hanna repeated. “He was obsessed with Giuliana Rancic. Remember? He said she was such a pretty bitch in that crazy bird voice!” “Who’s Giuliana Rancic?” Isabel asked, blinking quickly. Hanna’s father was too busy shaking with laughter to answer. Hanna laughed too, also not bothering to fill Isabel in. It felt nice to have an inside joke with her father again, something from their lives before Isabel and Kate. They continued eating, sharing stories about Hanna’s grandmother’s obsessions with yard sales, animal figurines, and her crush on Bob Barker from The Price Is Right. By the time the meal was over, Hanna and her dad kept bursting into laughter but not bothering to explain themselves. Isabel rose to clear the table, but Mr. Marin waved her to sit down. “I can clean up,” he said.

Third Reference: 

Now, Hanna sighed. After her new family had thrown Hanna a Hanukkah bone a few nights ago, everything had gone back to normal shortly afterward. The Twelve Days of Christmas nonsense had resumed, though Hanna had been able to get out of a lot of it because of boot camp.

[partyinthemysterymachine]

The Wendy’s Secret Menu

Cheryl isn’t very ladylike. She slouches on the other side of the old, sunken-in leather bench seat: an original part of the blue, vintage pickup truck. The dashboard is scuffed and dirty where she’s put her mismatched, socked feet (one cartoon zombies, the other made to look like a shark is devouring her leg - gifts from dad). Her happily wobbling knees are so close to her face that they could knock the sweating cup of chocolate frosty right out of her hand if she doesn’t pay enough attention.

And so what? It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, like, so many times.

She’s a Mason, and as a Mason, she has an uncanny knack for tempting fate and patience. So to the beat of the music she rocks her body to and fro, making the bench seat squeak and the truck bounce a second off rhythm. The music is what she and her dad both enjoy (for the most part; he’s come around to some of these songs), though it always looks like she loves it way more than he does. That’s fine by her; she can muster enough enthusiasm for stadium full of stoic duds. As the song reaches the second chorus, she scoops a dripping helping of melting soft serve and soggy, splitting french fries - her favorite.

Cheryl’s hand-eye coordination took an unauthorized smoke break. Her feet hit the floor as she immediately sits up, trying to wipe the mess off an undershot bite from her face.

“Aw, fuck!” she whines, dejectedly accepting a wad of too-thin napkins to sponge her mouth. Dabbing her t-shirt proclaiming that she made it out of the corn maze at the Vermont State Faire back in 2016 was an honorable effort, but was no match for shitty fast food napkins. This was a job for the washing machine. This thing is a prize well earned! A future family heirloom!  “Noo, come ooonnnnn.. get ouuuuut! UGH! My life is such a fucking mess,” she complains at her chest to the sound of soft chuckling.

“Do you eat, or just read about it?” Cheryl throws the speaker a glare. “Heh, I was waiting for that,” a young man’s (not very young anymore; much younger than his husband, much older than his daughter, and there are lines where there weren’t even five years ago) voice tells her. She exudes maturity as she mockingly wiggles her head and parrots him under her breath.

“Okay, well, excuse me, prophet,” she says, shoving the used napkins into the paper bag between them. “What, you couldn’t warn me?”

“Mmm.. nope. Then you wouldn’t have been taught a lesson,” James replies, stirring the mash of chocolate and potato in his own cup. “I thought I raised you on how to learn from your mistakes.”

“Yeah, well clearly—“

“Clearly you haven’t learned a thing,” he interrupts, smirking into the dessert somewhat haughtily, “because if you’re gonna be good at anything, sweetheart, making mistakes is what’s gonna make you the most successful.”

“Okay, but whose fault is that?” The unruly teenager scrunches her nose right into James’s ear as she noisily plunges her hand into a second, grease-spotted bag and spends way too much effort grabbing for cooling fries. “Huh? Whose fault is that, James? Huh? Huh? Huh, dad?”

One of the joys of this world is that even after ten years, James gets a dumb little smile when she calls him ‘dad.’ She used to call him daddy; she used to call them both daddy. Modern times call for modern changes, so she has a wealth of synonyms to use for addressing her parents, but nothing hits quite like ‘dad’.

Just so he doesn’t get any ideas about her being soft, she blows a puff of air at his cheek and plops back into her sunken spot. Cheryl releases the handful of salty french fries into her traitorous frosty cup to the sound of her dad’s soft laughter. She picks up any stragglers dropped on her chest and munches on them while she beats the fries down in the dessert with the black, plastic spoon like a milkmaid churning butter. Noisily sucking the salt from her fingertips, she can feel the blond man’s eyes on her.

(Sun-kissed, spun from an angel’s golden halo, sunshine wheat field - that’s how her daddy describes James’s hair; yet within the past couple years, silver threads have come to lay amongst the golden. They look nice, and they make her think about things she already stresses too much about.)

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Cheryl sasses, looking at him sidelong and stuffing her face with savory and sweet. James’s eyes go soft, but the trouble remains on the smirk spread on his lips.

“No way. You broke my camera last time.”

“It’s not my fault technology can’t handle a visage so holy and unattainable to mortal men,” she cockily replies. Then, there’s a prolonged, dramatic sigh. “Ohhh, whatever, dad. Maybe we just go back to the old days and get paintings done of us. Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s spend thousands of dollars and wait two years for someone to paint us a family portrai..”

Cheryl whips her head to James. He raises his eyebrows back at her; his smirk has been traded for a smile warm and loving. “Dad,” she starts urgently, “we have to get a huge oil painting of us done. We have to. This is serious, I’m so serious right now. I’m not even joking a little.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Uh, hello?” She regards her father (who smells of grease and turpentine, metal, smoke (smells that would make most people nauseous, but not she) and a little bit like Harry (who falls asleep with his face pressed to James’s neck)) like he’s the idiot he is. “Prestige? Fame? Our souls getting caught in it and being passed around as a super haunted painting and we can go around fucking up people’s houses and rearranging their furniture together for the rest of our lives? So we can look like totally rich assholes? Because our egos are as big as my dick?”

James squints at her then. “Mmm. I think our egos are bigger than that. You had me at ‘haunted painting,’ but lost me at the end, there.”

“Pft, okay, didn’t realize we had an ego-dick connoisseur here.”

“Your dad taught me some th—“

“Oh, no!” she cuts off, shoving her fist and extended index finger into his face. “No! Nnno. Nuh uh, I’m not gonna hear about—“

“—ngS ABOUT EGO,” the mechanic continues, matching the volume of Cheryl’s chant trying to drown him out. “Because I’m pretty sure his ego would be big enough to get a painting doaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA—“

Now they’re just holding out one tuneless vowel together, a battle of wills and lung capacity (may the best set win). The Masons are a stubborn people and stubbornness makes the voices crackle and strain as their organ balloons deflate to uselessness. Cheryl flings her head back to face the ceiling, pulls in a ridiculously showy breath, and picks up from where she left off, her energy restored.

It’s hard to warble when another person is doing the same right up in one’s cookies. She starts to laugh with James so close and monotone-yelling at her, but she has an image to uphold. Retaliation comes in first pushing his shoulder, then shoving her palm right against his nose to keep him back while she performs her dominating solo for the truck and all its machinery.

“EW!” Cheryl jumps back into the corner of the door, revulsion pinpointed at her hand. She frantically scrubs her palm on her jeans, whining pathetically. “Daaa-aaaaaddddd, groooossss! Eww, don’t lick me!”

“Don’t put your hand in my face,” he retorts. His daughter huffs and shoves her feet into the side of James’s thigh, making herself comfortable across the old leather, and thus a much easier way to harass her father.

“Well, don’t talk about gross stuff.”

“I wasn’t talking about gross stuff. I was talking about Harry’s ego.”

“Yeee-AH!” Cheryl stresses. “That’s what I said: I said, don’t talk about gross stuff! GOD,” she laments, giving her almost entirely melted stew a sarcastic, wide-eyed stare. “Nyeeheh, I’m James, I like to talk about gross stuff because I think It’s funny to torture—“

“I think we should seriously talk about getting that painting done,” says the owner of this beaten down and beloved blue truck. “We’ll get it as big as a mortgage allows. We’ll have nowhere to put it and it’s going to be the start of our financial ruin.”

Pursing her lips, Cheryl glances up at him and the beginnings of such a captivating pitch. “Hmm.. go on..”

Three pats on the tops of her feet make her smile. “We’ll get it started before you go off to college, and when you visit, we can get more done.” Green eyes glance at her. “Every time we go to sit for it, we’ve changed a little bit each time.”

Slowly, the plastic spoon scrapes the sides of an empty cup and scratch contemplatively at remnants that aren’t truly there. “Hmm.. I like the sound of that. So that it takes a long time to be painted, and as we change, the artist has to alter us more and more.. never truly finishing the painting.. which means we might never even have it, but..”

“But since it took so long, we’ve been in that painting as different people for years,” James explains. “And it’s sat untouched for so much time, too. And what if one of us dies before—“

“Which you won’t.”

“—it’s anywhere near done; then it means that that one is still alive, as they were, in the painting. You could even say that’s the first haunting.”

Their eyes meet.

Ten years ago, Cheryl Mason was seven. She spotted a sad-looking blue pickup truck in the driveway one morning and her daddy lied to her that a neighbor was parking it there for a short spell. None of their neighbors had a car like that, and he knew that she knew.

Maybe a handful of days later, she met the man who owned that truck. Daddy told her he was dating a man, and it was important that they liked each other. She thought he looked young, and he looked at her like she could devour him alive. The first night was test, and this guy passed with flying colors.

The second month was a test, too. So was him dropping her off at school for the first time, and picking her up; when the school stopped him after the fifth drop off/pick up to ask who he was and what he was doing with Harry Mason’s daughter, and oh, the delicate mess to clean up there; when a lady at the park shouted at her son to stop playing with her, and made her cry because she didn’t understand why that lady was yelling at her parents - they were doing nothing wrong! - and James took her into his lap, cradling her, and calmed her down (and she found he smelled of turpentine, grease, metal, smoke, and oil, and a little bit like her daddy); playing Katamari Damacy on a Sunday morning after she begged him to get out of bed and come play, and he did, sleepily, but soon woke up and was laughing with her; and

Toluca Lake.

the time she disobeyed her fathers (officially, legally three Masons in this family; officially, legally two men to raise her) and ate all her Halloween candy in one night to prove a point - the point being that they were right, and James sat with her while Harry started the wash; taking her to a play; to her activities; trips to

Silent Hill.

faires and parks; her dads didn’t (don’t) like hospitals or clinics, but she didn’t even know until she was thirteen because they hid it for her all these years; let her scream and cry at him because he knew, even better than Harry, how to handle her pain, and so held her while she sobbed herself exhausted, since James never truly needed words to speak; the pride in his eyes; the love he had; how he defended her (and scared her, really) against a boy who didn’t understand ‘no’ (but she was glad it was him, because she was even more scared of what daddy could have done, for the way his face changed when he heard..); taught her how to drive; hung out in comfortable silence, and all through the ten years, ten years of absconding to Wendy’s behind Harry’s back to eat fries in a chocolate frosty.

Cheryl gently kicks him three times. (“Three squeezes, or taps, or whatever,” Harry told her. “It’s an easy way to say ‘I love you’ whenever you want to.” So she drummed her palms three times on his aging face, and beamed so bright when he laughed.) “You might have something there. Dark, though.”

James glances down, then at her. “Isn’t it supposed to be?”

“Yeah, duh.” She drops the bare cup into the bag. “I like it. Good lead up. Good lore. Not bad, pops.”

Cheryl smiles at that smile.

“Thanks, Cher.”

A new song begins on the gritty little cassette mixtape that the sole Mason heir painstakingly (while grousing at her middle-aged father about how dumb and time consuming this ancient ritual of appreciation is) strung together. For being a mechanic, James’s radio could really use some good ol’ fashioned TLC - and if he dared to do even think about fixing it up, Cheryl would have an honest-to-god fit. Nothing would sound right; all the old memories and those in the process of making would feel different. James’s radio sucks, and she knew all three of them wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her foot keeps rhythm on his thigh and his fingers match it on the windowsill. This is a bittersweet song. It promises eternity. Cheryl felt a little odd putting this on the playlist, but she couldn’t leave it off. (“It reminds me of you and dad,” she justified. “You’ll get what I mean.”) When she hears it, she gets that happy-sad feeling that everyone in the world seems to have had at least once in their life. A small, apologetic but loving smile indents her cheeks at the sight of James disappearing into thought. He’s probably thinking about an angel.

She used to roll her eyes at it, but on hot summer nights, she’s outside in the dark, looking for an orange firefly in the grass.

When they get home, Cheryl lingers in the foyer. They have a beautiful home. The three of them picked this one out, and it was the second one they were shown. Natural light pours in through a spacious, open-air floor plan. A skylight overhead illuminates, draws colors out to their raw excellence, bathes their comings and goings in halos from the sun and moon. Cheryl can hear the author hard at work at the piano instead of his computer from the living room quiet, and in the kitchen, the mechanic’s radio softly playing a hazy tune while he’s elbow deep in his truck’s guts.

From the second floor balcony, when she can’t sleep and sees the flickering glow from the muted TV, she can stop and listen to Harry make James laugh, though she can barely hear what he says. Once she woke up in the middle of the night and decided she wanted to polish off those leftovers, but never made it to the foot of the stairs. She hid behind the railing, peeking through the carved wood at a sight that instantly welled her eyes with tears.

Watching the two men lazily slow dancing together like a couple at prom, Harry’s arms around James’s shoulders, James grasping his back and their foreheads touching, and the sing-talk style the patriarch was known for asking his husband about sins and love, Cheryl realized she saw an angel and a firefly.

She’d cried so hard into her pillow.

She watches her adoptive father - the second one to adopt her, much younger than the first, whose green eyes inspired so many pieces of their home decor - hang the keys on the kitchen wall, then begin to backtrack to head into the living room. He pauses, a light, questioning frown creasing his dark brows. “Hey, kiddo. You okay?”

Her hesitation only intensifies his worry. James approach, his face falls as his daughter buries her face in his chest and clutches him tight. His arms are lean, but they’re strong and warm around her, and his gnarled hand gentle in her hair. With him she sways, the pressure of a kiss atop her head, and then the weight of his head when he sets his cheek over that kiss.

James is the quiet parent. He doesn’t talk a lot. Verbal communication is not one of his strong suits, even after.. well.. she can’t remember what that was, exactly. So rather, the better way to swing it is: even after all this time, verbal communication isn’t one of his strong suits. But James says a lot when he has his arms around her. It’s really wonderful to hear his voice out loud, but there’s nothing like the way she hears him talk in the best way he knows.

Cheryl locks her arms around James Mason. He smells of turpentine, grease, metal, smoke and oil, and the man he married. She squeezes him harder, and his arms clasp her tighter. He rubs her back, and she finally lifts her head and looks up at man whose features are beginning to age. There’s a smile for her, and so she gives him one, too.

Today is probably one of her favorite holidays out of the year. At breakfast she announced that for the tenth year in a row, upon their honored, Hallmark-dependent day, their gift is: her. Cheryl basked in the golf claps and lavish praise from both of them. Oh, they were so grateful; yes, she knows. They need nothing else, she’s the greatest gift they could ever receive (though a Starbucks gift card wouldn’t go amiss); yes, she knows (no, dad, you’re getting Dunkin’ Donuts and you’re gonna like it). It’s all tradition at this point. The breakfast shenanigans is tradition, and how they spend the day is tradition.

For some reason, their tradition has felt more meaningful the past few years.

She smiles wider. James does too, and even chuckles softly and musses up her hair. He leaves another kiss on her forehead, and before he gets ideas about letting her go, Cheryl says, “Happy Father’s Day. You’re pretty okay. Sometimes I like you more than the other guy.”

James lights up the foyer with his laughter. Cheryl grins up at him, treasuring that look he gets that will never, ever get old. Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Cli-click.

When he’s looking at her again, the mirth still creasing his eyes, his daughter hugs him tighter. “I love you, dad.”

James Mason, formerly Sunderland, dips his head to this precious girl’s shoulder and hugs her so tight (his little girl, their little girl; she cried when they married at the courthouse, she hates her vegetables, likes to play word ping-pong, trusted him with secrets that Harry still doesn’t know, calls him dad, trusted him, trusts him, trusted him, trusts him - loved him, loves him - proclaims she’s the greatest gift they’ll ever receive and she’s goddamn right every single year.  

“I love you too, Cher.”

“I’m really glad you and dad got married.” He squeezes her tighter; his head presses harder into her shoulder. “You’re the best thing to happen to us.”

Her father is made of amber and stars, so Harry says; they’ve been wandering the earth forever looking for each other, and Harry held him once on a summer night in a jar, in his hands, and then he let him go. He was meant to be with them, Harry told her, and there’s a perpetual sadness in those lake green eyes but don’t worry: he loves us. He doesn’t always say it traditionally, the older man had said softly. So listen to him, because by god, Cheryl - he needs to be heard, and we’ll listen.

Cheryl’s smile trembles with incoming tears, and she closes her eyes and holds her father close. He doesn’t utter a sound, and she can hear everything he’s saying, loud and clear. He squeezes her one - two - three. She laughs weakly and locks her arms around his back. One - two - three.

She hopes James can listen, and hear her, too, but in case he missed it, she’ll say it as many times, and as many ways, as she can:

“We love you too, James.”

One.

Two.

Three.

[featheredcritter]

my dad suggested we could get a canary!! and i'm like BIRB YES!?!! but also kinda scared bc i've never owned any kind of pet and don't know its needs. I do know u have birds so uh, help? what are the basics? of taking care of birds???

i am not a big expert on canaries but you should get them a big cage, wide especially, 16” tall and 30” wide they say, they need to have the space to fly as they love to do that. do not leave it on the ground, near windows nor in the center of a room, due of direct light and wind and it needs to feel protected and safe, cover it at night to help it to sleep as well, i do that with my birds too. buy perches and swings, clean it regulary and make sure they always have food and water, also for bathing, just a little of shallow water in a dish should do they can eat seeds, pellets but you should also include proteins, vegetables and fruits ( apples, apricots, asparagus, bananas, beat, blueberry, broccoli, Brussel sprouts, cabbage, cantaloupe, carrot, carrot top, coconut, corn, dates, fig, grapes, grapefruit, kale, kiwi, melons, mango, nectarines, orange, papaya, parsnip, peaches, pear, peas, pepper, pineapple, plum, pomegranate, pumpkin, raspberry, spinach, squash, strawberry, sweet potato, tomato, zucchini) are examples keep them entertained but unlike parrots they don’t play with toys too much, they’d rather fly, stay with them and interact, keep them company (especially if you only get one, they are social birds, but if you want to get more not two or more males, they can be very territorial) but also pay attention, they can’t be handled like a parrot, they are fragile this is just the mere knowladge i have to canaries as i have never owned one or looked up for them, i advise you to dig deeper and do more resarches have some two links that could help but do look for more yourself on how to look after a canary, it should be a rather easy bird to look after but still gotta be sure https://myanimals.com/health/care-and-well-being/tips-on-how-to-care-for-a-canary/ https://lafeber.com/pet-birds/species/canary/

[ahhscheisse]

if y’all are having trouble getting your parrots to eat fresh food like i have been, maybe try this!!!

this is a weird take on bird bread, but ravi went from eating NOTHING (had dropped a significant amount of weight, even!), to eating THREE of these in one sitting...

here’s the recipe:

take one sweet potato, poke holes in it and microwave for nine minutes or until soft. Peel and cut it up small, then let cool.

Then cut an apple, banana, and any dried or other fruit your bird likes very very very small. do the same with the vegetables you want them to eat, or that they like! add a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar with “the mother” (optional, but its basically preventative medicine, so i use it on all their fresh food when cleaning them) and another teaspoon of water. mix in to all that one and a half cups of either pellets, quick oats, or a sugarless cereal, or even soft quinoa. Then add in the sweet potato and mash it all together!

Keep in freezer, but thaw before feeding. You can also microwave them a bit, too. :)

good luck!

[tcmpcral]

1. FIRST NAME: masha.

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: my father’s birthday is the day before mine :v

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON: i mean, i’m asexual and aromantic but aesthetically i guess i could say the quintessential. roman?? nose for some reason fjfeka; i just like the look of them lies down also certain kinds of genuine smiles get me right in the heart. dark eyes are also very nice. or perhaps i should say like. when someone has dark eyelashes?? i think that’s it. also i’m always reminded of a girl i went to ireland with who had a seriously endearing case of doe eyes, and i’m still not sure if her eyes were just naturally that shape or if she used makeup to get that Look but either way i thought she was extremely pretty the whole time lmao the fact that she was also very sweet and thoughtful didn’t hurt either

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: rice and eggs fjjfiea; eggs in general, tbh. possibly also noodles. and dumplings. cheesecake. lotus paste. smoked cheeses hhhh sALMON. sweet potatoes. maybe pears and apples listen i’m sorry i love food, there can’t be Only One

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: hominy fjfkda; cauliflower. uhhhh also tuna casserole blegh. asparagus jfjkf;da oh YEAH I HATE BOLOGNA TOO i can’t. i can’t do it hhhhghg. and yet i love vienna sausages and deviled ham...

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: whispers taking the long way home so i can spend more time listening to the radio and singing along with it probably lmao

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: whatever i wore the previous day fjfjiea; I’M SLOPPY

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: technically neither, but i guess i’d take flings over the other

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: lies down i do kinda wish i hadn’t dropped out of high school. on that front, it’s worked out in the end, but. still. it would have been nice to have kept up with my friends orz on a different front, i’m conflicted about it, but. sometimes i wonder how much better my life might be today if i’d gone straight for nursing instead of getting an art degree ._.

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: i. think i can be

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: yeah it’s still the kung fu panda trilogy lmao. but also tokyo godfathers, shutter island aaand. idk jurassic park? tremors? a good chunk of the x-men movies bc i’m not very picky with them and there’s things i like about most of them?? thinking emoji oH there’s also that movie push from 2009. the one with chris evans :v

12. FAVORITE BOOK: a little princess, war of the worlds, uhhh on the beach, house of stairs, the secret garden. i was once weirdly attached to this book i read in jr. high called where the lilies bloom. i also loved heidi uhhh. see, there were all these obscure books i read in late elementary school and jr. high that i loved that i often have trouble recalling rip. like there was one called eva, and another called home before dark. one named belle prater’s boy. the crystal garden. sweet sassy tree hhhh almost anything written by robert cormier ahaaa

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: i’m honestly very happy keeping dogs as pets, but i’ve always wanted to. like. idk, maybe pet a wolf or a fox or other wild canid. i’d also like to maybe have a cat someday. and parrots and other birds are adorable and i love them, but. oof. they just seem. Intimidating pets. maybe someday i can have ducks or geese again, tho. oh, and. i’ll admit i’ve always been amused at the thought of having a pet goat, bc my grandmother apparently did as a child lmao

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]: oh boy there’s. a Bunch. let me think... i. still have a very big soft spot for germany/italy hhh. uh. i hope the rest of them don’t have to be canon bc..... yeah. anyway still attached to beerus and whis... wheezes and both euroshipping (kaiba/bakura) and what’s apparently called stormshipping now (fubuki/manjoume). and ok i have to go with another hetalia one bc i’m such a sucker for france/russia lies down i was also once a big lex/zex shipper, and i still have a soft spot for. what it once was. not entirely too comfortable actually shipping it now since i haven’t Kept Up with kh and i’m not 100% on zexion/ienzo’s age anymore squints

15. PIE OR CAKE: ....whichever one cheesecake falls under :v

16. FAVORITE SCENT: ohghfjfkda there’s A BUNCH. aloe vera, bleach, lysol, sweet pea, tea, tires, sawdust, cucumbers and melons, ginger, beer

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: yeahh, i still don’t really have one but. i do have a lot of affection for weird al lmao

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: whispers i would love to go to russia some day, but i think everyone knows that lmao. i’d also love to revisit ireland, especially killarney and blarney castle. and i’d love to revisit sorrento. and possibly italy in general tbh aaaa. i’ve also always kinda wanted to visit china 6_6

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: pretty sure i’m an introvert, but i also happen to be one who really loves crowds

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: i’m a. very jumpy person kffja; also certain topics Disturb me way more than others, and ngl i have something close to an Actual phobia of the dark rip

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: i’ve never had an iphone, so probably android

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: animal crossing. also tetris when i’m bored. i love puzzle games like poppit and bejeweled lmao i used to play kingdom hearts and super smash brothers, and i miss them both tbh. i also played crisis core, two star fox games, and the world ends with you at some point. and uh. a handful of legend of zelda games when i was a kid. my favorite game is probably majora’s mask :v

23. DREAM JOB: comic book creator orz or some kind of concept artist for animated movies. but. i’ve come to terms with the fact that i’m not really. Good(TM) enough for that, so nowadays i’m much more interested in something more mundane like nursing. as long as it’s night shift, i want it

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: SO MUCH. get my car back in shape, pay off my grandparents’ house probably, go back to school fINALLY, move out lies down there’s so much i could do with that money lmao

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: there. aren’t any tbh lies down the most i usually get to is feeling neutral toward a character lmao except i just remembered umbridge exists so she might count

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: not counting the ones i keep coming back to, there’s uhhh. gundam wing, star wars (waaaay back when the phantom menace was first released lmao), digimon, x-men evolution. i was in the MCU fandom for like a month before i lost interest XD;; i might count yugioh and yugioh gx as part of this, but. i’m still kind of invested in those tbh

all of these i’ve just kinda fallen away from thinking emoji i’ve never really had a bad fandom experience, so. you know

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (15) Tripping

And Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she’d give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama.

But she couldn’t. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

We’re on chapter 15 already? Crazy!

Warning: This chapter has themes of horror, as Marinette and Adrien hallucinate disturbing imagery.

—

Her nap was cut short with the loud pounding on the metal of the cage. It echoed and rattled, startling her suddenly.

“Dinner time!” Salo sang with delight.

Dinner?

Food!

Yes! She was so so hungry! It probably wasn’t going to be good food, in any capacity, but food!

The slots in the door opened, and a plate was set on the edge. There was a little plastic cup of water too.

“Thank you.” Marinette said genuinely, taking the plate.

The meal was not identifiable. It looked like a slice of meatloaf, but it had a strange smell to it. Something that smelled familiar and but unrecognizable. She bit into it, finding it hard and bland in flavor. But it was food, and hunger was the best spice.

“What is this?” She asked outside.

“Food loaf.” A voice, not Salo, said.

“What’s…what’s in it?” She asked.

“We had a nice dinner last night. What ever was left over, we ground up, and baked it into a loaf. It was all good at the time.”

She looked at the rubbery slab, taking another bite out of it. “Would you tell me what you had for dinner?” She begged.

The voice laughed. “Oh let’s see…fresh salmon, with some broccoli, and mashed potatoes. There was some avocado toast, and this strawberry gelatin dessert. Oh, and the Miss made some coleslaw that had celery, mayonnaise, grapes, and pineapple chunks in it.”

“And…all of that is in here?”

“A little bit of all of it, yeah.”

She shouldn’t have asked. “Thank you…”

The slot closed again, and she was left to her meal.

“You don’t realize how much texture goes into food,” Adrien stated, his mouth full.

“No kidding. I still can’t tell what’s in this. Though, I can definitely get a fishy aftertaste from the salmon.”

“It’s not any worse than that cat food, at least.”

They lapsed into silence again, eating their dinner.

“This is weird.” Marinette finally said.

“Yeah, not how I expected my week to go.”

“Adrien...”

“Sorry, Yeah...uh, my coping skills aren’t the best.”

“I...I figured.”

“You figured?”

“Er, yeah…I didn’t think you found our situation amusing.”

“No, absolutely not.” He paused, to chew and swallow. “What were you saying about this being weird?”

“Oh…I just…I was thinking, earlier, when we were chained up and waiting…I was looking at you, as you slept. And…I felt like I was looking at a stranger. You’re my best friend, and I care so so much about you, but…You’re not Adrien anymore, and you aren’t Chat. You’re just…different.”

“Oh…yeah, I see what you mean. I…I kinda feel the same. I’m so used to seeing Ladybug so fearless and sassy, and then Marinette shy and adorable…seeing Marinette being rebellious and…humiliated like this is…foreign.”

“Were you disappointed?” She whispered.

“What?”

“Were you disappointed? You said, a few days ago, that you were in love with Ladybug. Were you disappointed when you found out I was her?”

“No.” He said without hesitation. “Well…I was disappointed in myself. I promised that I would know you immediately, out of the mask. And so allowed myself to fall head over heels in love with you. In fact, there was a handful of people I would have been disappointed with if you had turned out to be them. But you were with them in person, so I didn’t worry.”

“Oh, like who?”

“My father for example.”

She barked a laugh. A real true laugh, her first in many days. “Your father, Gabriel Agreste, as Ladybug!? How the hell did you think that as an option!?”

“You don’t know! The miraculous could drastically alter someone’s appearance! If my father wanted to look like a 15 year old girl…then that’s on him, I guess.”

She giggled some more. “Boy, I hope Salo doesn’t have cameras in here right now.”

“In case she does…sorry father, that was a joke.”

Marinette calmed herself, before anyone could hear her and punish her for it.

“I looked for you.” He said softly. “I looked everywhere for you. But…you had been there, all this time. And I never noticed. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“What about you?” He asked. “You have, or had, a crush on me. But you always rejected Chat Noir.”

“I’m so happy that you’re my kitty.” She croaked, emotional. “I always thought that you were so kind and forgiving…it makes sense that you’re him.”

“I’m glad.” He hummed. “Back before all this, before the photo thing…I thought you hated me.”

“What?”

“Yeah! I mean, you were always so…uncomfortable around me. I thought maybe you were still holding a grudge a little from the whole gum incident.”

“What! I would never!”

“I know that now.” He snickered. “I just...I’m sheltered. I still haven’t picked up on all social cues.”

“Oh, I think you’re doing pretty okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Most of the time.”

He hummed. “Then I guess you’ll just have to stay with me to help me with the few I miss.”

“Adrien.”

“What?”

“What what?”

“Didn’t you just say my name?”

“No...?”

“Adrien.”

“You so did! Just now!”

“I said ‘most of the time’ and that’s it!”

“I could have sworn—“

“Adrien.”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Well someone did! I just heard my name! I keep hearing someone calling for me!”

Marinette was quiet, then, “You…you didn’t just say my name, did you?”

“No…and I didn’t hear it either.”

“Adrien.”

“Ugh this is freaking me out! Is it a ghost?”

Marinette scoffed. “More than likely, it’s a tiny speaker that Salo hid in your cell. Mine too.”

“Adrien.”

Adrien felt his hands go clammy, and his face flushed. A tingling sensation started in his toes. “Oh…I don’t feel too good.”

Marinette didn’t answer.

“My lady?”

He was sitting on the floor, bare butt to the cement, and suddenly, it started to bow underneath him. “Oh whoa whoa!”

The ground was moving, it was falling, he was falling. His stomach was weak and nausea took place, but he had finally gotten food and he wasn’t about to loose it all. Instead, he clawed at the door, prying the metal off the hinges.

It came clean off, and he stumbled out. The rumbling of the cement cracking, breaking, crumbling into dust.

“Adrien.”

That wasn’t Marinette’s voice. That wasn’t his lady.

But it was coming from her cell.

So he started walking towards it, the ground under his feet turning to goo and melted at each step. Each step took longer than the last, and the cell was getting farther and farther away.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” He asked aloud, though his voice echoed on and on. His arm felt heavy, heavier than normal. He glanced over, seeing his arm turned into cement.

Oh yeah, that’s right. That happened.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” He asked again. “Didn’t I just say that?”

He had.

Finally, finally he reached the door, and pulled it open.

Inside was a corpse. Nearly blue in skin, and eyes open and unseeing.

“You’re not Marinette.” He told the body.

Its neck popped as its head moved slightly. “Oh, would you rather have her than me?”

It then occurred to Adrien that the corpse was someone he knew.

Who?

“Have we met before?”

“Have we met before?” Parroted the body.

“Yes of course!” Said Adrien, “I’m your son!”

The body snapped and popped back into a living, breathing person, Emilie Agreste standing in front of him like all was right in the world. “Hi Hunny Bunny.”

“You’re my mommy!” Adrien giggled, his hands over his mouth.

“That’s right!” she covered her face.

“Peeka boo!”

Adrien giggled.

“Peeka boo!”

He giggled again.

“P̴̨̮̹̪̮̮͎̻̩̩̀͊̓͌ę̵̛̯̱̻̠͓͙̻̦̠̈́͗͊̔̍̕ͅḛ̷̢̡̢̯̜̺̦͎͍̙̮̱͓̌̍͆̏̒̀͆̆̒̒̀̍͆k̵̡̢̺̤̲̜̥̺̮̈́͊̎̔́̽͒͆͂̾͐̂͌̐̚a̴̫͋̚͠ ̸̮̰̠͓͙̾̾̓͌̇͋͆̀͠ͅb̴̤̙̠̮͖̦̔ǫ̵̢̛̜͓̙̘̼̳̳̠̲̋̂̈́́́͋̄̊͊o̶͙̭̣͛̏̊́̋̚͜!̶̺̳̮̭͍̥͓̳͓͎͓̥͈͍̪̀̆̉̆̎̈̌̉̂͊̊̌̚͝͝”

Adrien screamed.  

That was definitely not his mother. His mother was beautiful and sweet, and did not have snakes for teeth! Or mouths for eyes! Or—Or!!

He panicked and began to run. But he ran so fast that he ripped right out of his skin. His body frozen and staring in horror.

Thinking quickly, Adrien grabbed his wrist and pulled his body along with him. Occasionally, they would fuse back together, but then he would run too fast and they’d pull apart from each other, and separate.

“Come back hunny bunny! I just want your heart!” Emilie sang. “I just want to chew it up nice and tasty like!”

If Adrien ran fast enough, he could break through that wall, right? That sounded reasonable.

So he ran at top speed, ripping out of his clothes, his skin, his muscles, his bones, and collided head on with the wall, all of his layers congealing into one amalgamation of teenage boy.

“Oh, did that hurt?” Emilie asked, standing over him. Her features looked human enough, though she had a halo around her head of blue and then red and then green.

“I’m not dreaming am I?”

“You already said that.”

“I’m losing my mind.”

“Quite possibly.”

She lifted him off the ground, dusting off the leather of his suit, straightening his belt. “My my, how much you’ve grown.”

“Did I finally find you? After all this time?”

She smiled at him. “No, hunny bunny. I found you.” She weaved her fingers through her hair, turning it red on the way down. Then she tied her hair up in a bun and put a pair of reflective sunglasses on her face.

“No.” Adrien fell on his rear, the floor bowing very slowly beneath him, swallowing him up. “This is not happening. It can’t be. It can’t.”

“Oh, but it can be. And it is.” Salo’s too long fingers reached out, scratching his cheek. “What’s wrong hunny bunny? Thought mommy was too perfect for this? Never thought mommy would hurt you?”

The goo of the ground wrapped around his legs, pulling him into the abyss. The tendrils were sharp and burned against his skin, and once again he found his soul ripping from his body.

The walls spun and twisted, converging into one surface, and then many. He became the walls, the floor, the air, everything. He was everything and nothing.

He was…

He was…

Who was he again?

The world undulated and twisted, pulsing and throbbing in his ears, in his mind. All the pain that ever existed in the world crushed upon him, beating against his chest, clawing its way to his heart.

Was he screaming? Or was he singing? His mouth opened and noise came out. But his jaw was tense, and he gnashed his teeth.

He was floating.

He was sinking.

Everything was beautiful, but yet so so ugly.

This had to stop. This had to be a dream, or something. There was no way any of this could be real! But it felt more real than anything in his life. He felt real pain, searing, stinging, aching pain, and it was swallowing him whole. He tried to fight back against it, pressing his hands against the floor. His cat claws dug in, and he began to claw his way out of the darkness.

For a moment, everything settled, his heart beat was the only thing echoing still thundering.

It was a dark room, with only a flashlight laying on the floor. His cage was nearby, the door open, as well as the cage next to him. He was on the floor, in his robe, and above him was Marinette, poised with a crowbar raised above her head, ready to strike. She had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“My lady?” He asked softly.

The clanging of the metal against the ground was incredibly loud, and it echoed with voices of those who he had killed.

Obviously, he had to have killed people if he was in prison and Ladybug was fighting him.

“Chat? Is that you?” She asked.

“I…I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I feel like…I’m not me.”

“Me neither.”

The floor bowed once again, and the whole delusion started over again.

—  

“What?” Adrien asked.

“What what?” Marinette asked back.

“Didn’t you just say my name?”

“No...?”

“You so did! Just now!”

“I said ‘most of the time’ and that’s it!”

“I could have sworn—...What?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Well someone did! I just heard my name! I keep hearing someone calling for me!”

“Marinette.”

Marinette was quiet, then, “You…you didn’t just say my name, did you?”

“No…and I didn’t hear it either.” He moaned, “Ugh this is freaking me out! Is it a ghost?”

Marinette scoffed. “More than likely, it’s a tiny speaker that Salo hid in your cell. Mine too.”

“Marinette.”

“Look, let’s just ignore them, okay?”

Adrien didn’t respond.

“Kitty?” She asked softly.

There was silence. An awful, deafening silence.

Her heart pounded, and her fingers started to tingle. “Adrien, if you can hear me, please answer me!”

But he didn’t. He was long gone.

Marinette braced herself against the walls of her cage, the metal starting to push back against her, growing tighter, constricting. Like a snake, or the grip of a giant.

“Chat!!” She screamed. But it came out slow, like water overflowing.

The metal was now pressing on all sides of her, crushing her as if she was made of glass. She felt herself cracking, shattering, shards of her very being flaking off and falling into another world.

Because that’s where she was being forced, wasn’t it? Forced to another world, another dimension. Spirited away, and erased from all she knew, and all that knew her. Her parents would never know they had a daughter, her room a guest room, her possessions losing their attachment. There would never be a Ladybug, and Adrien would have never known her.

A mistake of the universe, being folded over and ironed out.

She was pinned flat, paper thin, all air being forced from her lungs. Frozen in a solitary form.

Then there was a door opening, a breeze catching hold of her paper thin form and rustling her.

There stood a figure in the way, formless, and ever changing.

“You’re not Marinette.” They said.

“I’m not?” She replied. Well, then why was the world trying to erase her? What had she done to treated like so?

“Have we met before?” Asked the stranger.

“Have we met before?” She asked right back.

“Yes of course!” Alya responded, stepping closer. “Don’t you know me?”

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” said Marinette, her head cocking to the side.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” asked Chloe.

Marinette breathed, her three dimensionality returning as she stepped forward. The action made her dizzy, her head growing huge, inflating like a balloon.

She put her hands over her face, trying to stop the sensation.

Manon giggled.

She removed her hands to see, only to find Lila standing in front of her, laughing.

“Look at you! Look how far the great Ladybug has fallen! Too bad! Maybe I’ll go tell the others where to find you! I’ll tell Salo where to find your parents!” She started to run away, teasing her as she moved.

Ladybug, furious, took chase, her body not moving like she wanted to. Lila was so much faster, so much much more nimble.

The hallway twisted, turning sideways, upside-down, the walls dividing into more sides, a hexagon, a decagon, spinning.

Hawkmoth turned around, laughing as he ran, then splated against the wall, turning into an amoeba-shaped blob, all sorts of radiant colors exploding from the collision.

“Oh, did that hurt?” She asked, as the figure’s blood flowed over her shoes.  

“I’m not dreaming am I?”

“You already said that.”

“I’m losing my mind.”

“Quite possibly.”

An arm snapped out of the goo, grabbing hold of her wrist. The fingers curled and twined around her wrist, forcing their way up her body. “And you’re being so brave. Faced with nothing.”

“No!” Marinette screamed, lashing out to scratch the face emerging from the ooze.

Salo’s face.

“You can definitely try to stop me, but it won’t work! No one’s coming for you! No one remembers you! No one wants you!”

“No! No no no!” She shrieked, pulling away from the monster. “I don’t believe you! This isn’t real! It can’t be real!”

But it felt more real than anything she’d ever experienced before.

She felt like she was finally awake.

Chat Noir! He’d know how to help! He could save her!

“Chat!” She screamed.

He didn’t come, but something cold touched her foot.

His baton.

Yes! Yes that would work!

“Try and stop me. I’d love to see you try!”

She grasped hold of the baton, and began to hack at the figure. Like a rose, blood gushed from the chest, flowing and gurgling forth. She kept hitting them. First Salo, then Hawkmoth, then Lila.

Then…

“My Lady?”

Adrien.

She paused, the crowbar over her head, ready to swing down.

Terrified, and taking a grasp of reality, the crowbar slipped from her hands and clattered on the ground.

“Chat? Is that you?” She asked.

“I…I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I feel like…I’m not me.”

“Me neither.” She whispered back.

A mistake. She had made a mistake. And the world need to fix it!

The ceiling began to fall, crushing her into pulp, and the delusion started all over again.

—

How long had it been?

Hours? Minutes? Days?

Marinette didn’t know. She had been flattened and folded over and over, like a paper crane.

Adrien had been ripped apart and sewn back together.

Both laid on their backs in silence. They were uncaged, and nothing kept them from running out the door.

Nothing but the inevitability of reality slipping away again. As dazzling colors and beautiful patterns twisted in their visions, all they could do was lay on the ground, and cry.

Because who were they now? What were they? Humans? Higher beings? Cosmic dust?

There was no way to know.

“Wow, that did a doozy on you two.” Salo said.

Marinette flicked her eyes over, unable to move any part of her twisted body.

“Well, it’s been over 14 hours. I’m sure it’ll wear off soon. Let’s get you two back to where you need to be.”

Neither moved, both having to be dragged back into their cages.

Things were starting to make sense now. Breathing evened. Hearts slowed. And the bitter cold settled on their shoulders.

There was no peace to be had.

This was hell.

[thenixkat]

You know me, I want to know everything about everything and suck at narrowing down to topics, so pulling random shit out of a fucking hat- What are the Haint Blu chars' favorite sources of carbs?

-Haint remembers absolutely nothing about their life other than their lack of gender, general ability to kick ass, and a grab bag of trivia about parrots. They’ve tried a lot of different foods and like pizza best when it comes to that kinda thing. Just a bunch of bread with sauce and cheese and any number of veggies, pickles, and meat toppings. It’s efficient and tastes good.

- DayDay would look at you funny if you asked to narrow down a favorite food. Especially like for a specific nutrient source. If he has any forwarning of vigorous physical activity later in the day he tends to eat a bowl cheesy mashed potatoes loaded with bacon chunks with his other breakfast.

- Unlike DayDay, Blueberry is not a creator’s pet. She doesn’t get to choose her food options. Her favorite of the standard rations are the blue raspberry flavored snack bars since she can eat them without using her hands.

- B’onca’s go to are waffles. Good versatility and pares well with sweets. Doesn’t help with her cavities but who cares about that? Not her.

-Demitree doesn’t do ‘carbs’. What carbs he does consume are generally varieties of veggies (typically salads), fruits, nuts and seeds. DayDay is of the belief that ‘Tree is so bitchy b/c he’s hungry and needs like a proper sandwich. 

- Bee is a wheat bread gal. Mostly sandwiches but sometimes just like plain ass pieces of bread. She’s not really big on seasonings.

- Dr. Day likes sweet potatoes. But only sweet potatoes/yams that are cooked right with the sugar and cinnamon and marshmallows on top. She doesn’t really cook. She has people to do that for her and if they know what’s good for them they won’t try poisoning her again. Otherwise, she likes boiled potatoes, seasoned of course.

(She’s considered running a test of clones to find out if DayDay inherited the taste for potatoes from her or if its just a coincidence. She’s decided against it b/c the clones could turn out a bit to much like her and try to bump her off to take over the company.)

[drmannimal]

Avian Diet - for parrots

This speaks exclusively to the birds that I encounter frequently in practice - parrots, budgies, and the like. If you have any questions about whether your bird falls into this category feel free to reach out 😺

Diet is a very important component of avian care. Proper, balanced nutrition provides birds with the elements needed for feather production, healthy skin, and promotion of overall health. A proper diet allows for the development and upkeep of a good immune system, decreasing their susceptibility to disease. Due to this, birds on an improper diet may succumb to infectious diseases including viral, bacterial, or fungal. Birds require a varied diet including pellets, fruits and vegetables +/- seeds.

Pellets are an important component in providing a balanced diet to birds and should be the primary component, fed daily. Pellets should make up 60-70% of the diet. Pellets are formulated to meet the nutritional needs of your bird, providing the necessary vitamins, minerals, and other nutrients. Pellets are made by grinding together a combination of components, ensuring that each pellet contains the nutrients that the bird requires, preventing them from picking through and only eating certain components.

The remaining 30-40% of the diet should be made up of various fresh foods. This can include various fruits and vegetables, and cooked pasta and rice. Vegetables and fruits that you may feed include squash, sweet potato, carrots, cabbage, lettuce, herbs, berries, tropical fruits, and apples.

Foods to avoid include chocolate, avocado, onion, and any high-fat or salty foods.

Treats can make up under 10% of the diet and include seeds, treat sticks, millet, and nuts.

Why are seeds not an ideal diet?

In natural settings, birds consume a wide variety of food to meet nutritional needs. Though we often see wild birds at seed feeders, this is not the only thing they eat.

Seeds are high in fat and deficient in other important nutrients, such as vitamin A and D. Hypovitaminosis A especially, can lead to a number of health problems. A bird that is on an all seed diet is not only susceptible to vitamin deficiency related disease, but also prone to obesity.

When pet birds are provided a pellet and seed mix they will often pick out the “goodies” eating only the seeds. This leads to the same issues as if they were provided only with seeds. For this reason, seed and pellet mixes are not recommended.

Changing Diets

Diet change should always be made gradually. It is important to monitor the bird closely throughout the transition period. It can be very serious if the bird stops eating due to a rapid diet change.

Start the diet transition by placing the new diet overtop of the birds regular diet in their feeding bowl. Over time, gradually decrease the amount of old food that is provided, increasing the amount of pellets. Do not mix the food together as this allows them to preferentially pick out the “goodies” easier than if it were layered. Add a second dish near the birds favourite perch and fill it entirely with the new, pelleted diet.

Offer any wet foods (fruit, vegetables, pasta) in a separate dish so as to not dampen the dry foods. Remove wet foods from the cage within a few hours to prevent bacterial growth.

[coolanabrendalove]

What Bird Food to Buy for Your Companion

Pets depend on their owners to provide them the best care and nutrition. Once you welcome an animal in your home, you need to do the research and find out what they eat, how to entertain them, what supplements are recommended, what housing to provide, and more. Especially when it comes to birds, they need special care, starting with the right cage and up to fun and interactive toys. Besides bird seed, they require additional elements in their diet. Bird food needs to be diverse, nutritious, fresh, and healthy.

Why Bird Food Matters

It is crucial to choose the right type of bird food. Every species has nutritional requirements, and if you begin to think about it, they eat different things in the wild. Some prefer insects, while others fruits, seeds, leaves, and such. Feeding your pet, the right nutrients, vitamins, and minerals is essential for their development. You want to know for sure they are healthy and happy, full of energy, and they develop nicely throughout the years. If they lack something in their diets, soon they develop health issues.

You can always consult the vet to find recommendations and research to know what foods are mostly recommended. For instance, if you have a parrot at home, you should consider pellets. Brands develop recipes after doing years of research, and they come up with amazing formulas that offer the ideal balanced meals. Every bite is a nutritional punch, and you have peace of mind that your companion enjoys their meals, is active, and happy. There are many brands available, but read the labels and make sure they don’t put synthetic preservatives, additives, or dye, in the ingredients.

What Bird Food Is Best

Although it seems convenient sometimes to purchase bird food in big boxes, so you can have it around for a long time, it is not always recommended. Once you open the bag, the food loses its freshness gradually, and you might find certain ingredients that you don’t want your bird to eat. If possible, invest in organic diets, because these brands are more attentive to what they put in every bag. Considering that about 50-60% of your pet’s diet should consist of pellets, it is best to invest in high-quality ones.

Aside from these, you need to diversify every meal, and you can include so many amazing options, even what you have inside the house. Fresh fruits and sprout mixes are suitable in proportion of 10-20%, but you need to find out what fruits are best, because some kinds can be dangerous for the type of bird you have. Veggies and leafy greens should also be included, and your pet will love to bit into them, and strengthen their beaks. Many believe that fresh seeds are very nutritious and they can provide them all day. It is not the case, because they should consist only about 5-10% of their diet.

When you put fresh fruits and vegetables in their bowls, do remove them after a couple of hours, if they are not consumed, because they might not be safe anymore. Under no circumstances you should offer chocolate, alcohol, avocados, shellfish, or uncooked beans to your pet. Safe fruit options include mango, papaya, berries, apples, grapes, bananas, melons without the rind, pomegranates. As for vegetables, offer sweet potatoes, carrots with the tops as well, squash peppers, green beans, corn, pumpkin, and leafy greens. These are safe bird food.

If you want a companion while you eat dinner, you can prepare a plate for your pet as well. Some healthy table foods are recommended, and it is beneficial for them in terms of nutrition and emotions. Flock animals eat together, and if you want to replace that moment, eat together. You can offer a teaspoon of what you are eating, but don’t include sauces and gravy that have high salt levels, junk food, or under-cooked meats.

What Bird Seed to Choose

Bird seed can be provided as treats or while you try to train your pet. Some pet owners struggle with seed-junkies, and they have to make sure they change their diets, otherwise they will have issues. many parrots die because of malnutrition, since seeds are packed with fat, but they don’t have too much nutritional value. They are low in vitamin A and calcium. Proper nutrition has a direct effect on their body and mind, it affects their feathers and emotional health. If you take the time to learn what suits their needs the most, you will both be happy and satisfied.

Once birds are accustomed with bird seed , it is hard to change their diets. However, it is not impossible, although you need to work harder and have some patience. Instead of removing their seeds all at once, substitute it gradually with pellets. Once you reach the desired level, remove them almost completely. You can find some healthy mixes at pet shops, so you can still allow your companion to enjoy the taste.

Safe bird seed include sunflower, black oil sunflower seed, milo, thistle, peanuts, shelled corn. You can find these individually wrapped at a pet shop or purchase a mix of them. You can always discuss with a vet before shopping, to make sure you are offering the right kind to your companion. Small and large birds have different needs, and it is understandable not to offer the same kinds of food.

Luckily, you don’t have to worry about purchasing a wide variety of foods and bird seed every time, and fill up the cabinets in your home. You can go to a pet shop and see what they have to offer. Many brands have amazing products for birds, and you can shop when you are about to run out of products. Besides basic foods, you can always treat your feathered friend with something special, when you spend time together, play, and when you want to reward their positive behavior. Speaking of play, don’t forget about toys and even putting foods inside foraging toys, to keep their minds busy.