berry

@theonlyqualitytrash

Thanks to the recipe she gave me, I was able to savor her sweet, sweet love !! And it was berrylicious…

I actually tried to adorn them with strawberry frosting, but I kind of messed it up a little bit…. It didn't look as cute on it as I thought it would. Nonetheless, I will continue my lethal experiments with this recipe in my own cozy baking laboratory soon. (◍•ᴗ•◍) ☆

By the way, I added cinnamon to the recipe!! It definitely added to the flavor, in my opinion. Cinnamon girls are gonna looove this one, hehe. And yes, I made these cookies twice separately to take them to my father’s house. Now, he demands more.

Forgive me, dear, for this message coming a little late. I am aware I am slow, but I’ll try to catch up and get back to a more steadier pace. I've been writing down and editing my responses to all the stuff you've submitted, other things I desire to talk to you about, and other things I want to ask other people about. I also need to get my feelings about your fanfics organized and typed out. It's a bit of a jumble, but I will get it all sorted out and done one by one... I just really wanted to let you know that I am not ignoring you. Reading what you have to say always makes me go running around the house in a jiggly jiggle. (〃´ワ`〃)

Wishing you all the strength and calm your heart needs for your exam. It might be a tiresome period, but I have faith you'll complete all of them successfully !! Please don’t forget to be gentle with yourself, too, okay? Because you’re my precious angel! ꒰ঌ♡໒꒱

Eat something yummy and warm, take tiny time-outs to stretch or breathe fresh air ,, and curl up for a little bit of rest when your brain feels full. Your morale and health matter just as much as those exam scores. Just trying your best is already something to be proud of, really proud of. Even if it’s a four-day power-studying marathon, I know you’ve got the spirit and the brain to pull it off. You’re brilliant, and you’ve come so far already. Just a little more push, and you’ll be on the other side of it all.

Go, show those papers what happens when hard work meets unstoppable spirit. You’ve absolutely got this, honey dear!! (｡☌ᴗ☌｡)っ⁾⁾

Oh, and I also wanted to send you a recipe, as well.

!! Carrot Walnut Cinnamon Cake Recipe !!!

(I’m not even trying to hide my love for cinnamon at this point.)

Ingredients:

• 3 eggs

• 1 cup sugar

• ½ cup vegetable oil

• 1 cup milk

• 2½ cups flour

• 1 packet vanilla sugar (or 1 tsp vanilla extract)

• 1 packet baking powder (about 10–12g)

• 3 small carrots (not baby carrots!)

• 1 cup ground walnuts

• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon (level)

Instructions 👩‍🍳😡:

1. Start by washing, peeling, and grating the carrots. Don’t forget to squeeze out the excess juice!

2. In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs and sugar with a mixer until the mixture becomes pale and frothy.

3. Add the milk and vegetable oil, and mix until well combined.

4. Sift in the flour, baking powder, and vanilla. Adjust the amount of flour depending on the consistency of your batter.

5. Mix everything again briefly with the mixer. Then add the grated carrots, ground walnuts, and cinnamon.

6. Give it a final gentle mix using a wooden spoon or spatula.

7. Grease your cake pan and pour in the batter.

8. Bake in a preheated oven at 170°C (340°F) for about 40 minutes. Tip: Avoid opening the oven door during the first 30 minutes so your cake rises properly! :)

9. Once baked, let the cake cool in the pan before removing it—if you try to take it out too early, it may fall apart.

10. After it has cooled enough, remove the cake from the pan easily and serve.

Your carrot walnut cinnamon cake is ready to be eaten alive by its god! If you ever find a day to try this recipe, I bon appétit you in advance, my heart’s constant companion, beloved Masha. ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) 🍊🥮🥕

Ah. This reminds me of the times when I used to listen to Cake by Melanie Martinez and have a breakdown while baking. Good times, good old times…

Anyway. While I was preparing chamomile for myself, this started playing in the background—and there’s something about this guy’s voice that completely caught my attention. I don’t even know why it suddenly got to me like that. Maybe it’s just a simple old song, but… I felt like I wanted to share it with you. Hehe. <3

Edit: I have bad period cramps AND nausea rn 😔 Right when I'm finally home alone, in my sacred forest nymph habitat…merry and free…listening to my favorite top-secret playlists and making my little dance moves like a misunderstood woodland sprite trying to impress the local ghosts…

“Wow, I feel so sunny today that I can dance for hours and hours until my body physically can't anymore!”

I said with joy. I was then shot 57 times.

And then suddenly, cramps kicked down the door, smirked, and said,

“You thought you were gonna be happy ?? Wrong genre, sweetie. This is body horror. Now, suffer your monthly agony.”

I couldn’t even watch that adorable animated series you told me about yet ! ! _(:‚‹」∠)_

I curled up in my bed like a soggy raspberry croissant, hugged Moli (my brave childhood teddy bear guardian), and listened to isochronic binaural beats and chakra tuneup sounds to fall asleep while whining to the universe that I wanted sweet death to take me out already🥀🥀

Because obviously when life hurts, we all channel our inner Dazai, except my dramatic cry for the void is interrupted by the sound of another cramp screaming, “Plot armor? I have never heard of it.”

What is the moral of the story here? Period cramps are just the uterus cosplaying as a little fascist dictator reminding you that freedom is an illusion. And joy? That was a myth I once believed in. 💔

I feel a bit better now thanks to the medicine, but I haven't eaten today, and I have no appetite whatsoever; plus, I have insomnia + internal mood swings, + the energy of a dying pixel + mitski on repeat.

I want Fyodor to stop everything he's doing right this instant, give me lots and lots of soothing kisses on my head, and wrap his arms around me in a way that doesn't hurt until I melt into a puddle of sleepy goo. Some people crave chocolate or soup during this time; I crave physical touch and the selfish need to be babied immensely. ໒꒰ྀི ◞ ◟꒱ྀིა

I'll admit, I was kind of nervous to message you; I wouldn't want to push your boundaries if you just want space, but I have felt your absence deeply. I've been considering writing a fanfic for you, but I'm currently participating in a writing challenge, so my hands are quite full :') but at least it gives me more time to brainstorm for when I do write it!

Seeing that Quality has been sending you asks is reassuring, though. I'm glad someone had the courage to let you know you lingered in our thoughts.

Dear Theo,

Please don’t ever worry that you’re being too much or intruding. ^^ Your words felt like a hug I didn’t know I needed. I missed you too, and I’m really, really glad you reached out right away. And I’m really happy (and a little shy) to be back. <3

I kind of just… faded, I guess. It wasn’t planned. I just couldn’t be present, and then time kept slipping away, and I felt like I wouldn’t be missed, so maybe it did not matter. But reading your words, everyone's made me realize how wrong I was. And now I am sitting here, kind of stunned and emotional, feeling more loved than I know what to do with. I’ve been in a strange place mentally, and I pulled away because I didn’t feel like I had much to offer to anyone at all. And I especially did not want my friends to look at me like I was a wounded bird needing care and attention. To learn that someone else also has the same worries and fears as me made me feel less lonely. Before, I felt like I was lacking something everyone seemed to have, that I was not and never will be enough for them, and that my love wasn't worthy of theirs since I had never seen anyone being so open and transparent about their emotions, feelings, or thoughts.

But reading everyone’s messages, big or small, even the likes (❤️) they still leave, small asks they left, reminded me that I haven’t disappeared in their minds completely. Nor was it attention. It felt like genuine care. Not pity. Not obligation. Just… pure kindness. Quiet, steady kindness that stayed even when I wasn’t able to show up. I think a part of me believed that if I disappeared long enough, I’d become invisible—maybe that was easier. But now I realize how much I missed being seen, not for being loud, present, or productive, but just for being me. And that’s such a soft and unfamiliar feeling—to be cared for in the absence, not just in the presence. My sensitivity often feels like a liability, a vulnerability I cannot hide or protect. It’s always there, and sometimes it’s hard to carry, especially when everything feels like it is slowly falling apart.

But maybe that’s what’s changing now. Maybe I’m learning that I don’t have to pour myself empty for others to be loved. Maybe being here, quietly, honestly, flawed, and trying is already enough. And slowly, I feel something new blooming in me, you know—a quiet kind of hope. I’m starting to believe that there is space in this world for hearts like mine. That I shouldn't be afraid of good things. There are people—like you—who remind me I can be loved simply because I am. So maybe this isn’t the end of something. Maybe it’s the beginning. A difficult one, yes. But a beginning all the same. And I’m curious to see where all of this leads.

The way you showed up without asking anything from me and just offering your presence. Your companionship didn’t demand an explanation. You didn’t treat my silence like distance. That meant more than I can explain. That message you wrote to me in the comments last time I was here meant a lot, and it gave me more than you could ever know.

I don’t know if I deserve it, but I’m really, really grateful for people like you. I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry, I went quiet and couldn't stay like I wanted to a few months ago when we talked in the comments. I’m just so glad I’m here again—and that you’re still here too. This time, I will stand still no matter what. I love the friendships I’ve made here, and I aspire to be a better friend. 🫂♡

Also, the idea that you were even thinking of writing a fic for me? That thought alone is so precious it makes me want to cry a little with my phone pressing on my cheek if you allow me to. My heart is still catching up, hahaha. I do not deserve that kind of compassion or generosity, but please do. If you wish to write under the guise of writing for me, come on in and be my guest. It's always such a joy to read your work (and Fyodor) ! ! !

Speaking of, what’s the writing challenge you are doing? It sounds really cool, and I would love to hear more about it if you feel like sharing it with me. I’ve missed hearing about what everyone’s been up to. I'm currently editing/writing my reviews for Quality's fanfics and her other asks anyway. You should solely focus on your own challenge at the moment, please! 🍓💕 I hope I can make up for the time I’ve been away. <3 (つ﹏<。)

With a heart that’s fuller now,

A true masterpiece ! ! The tiniest Seal-us is here to steal your heart (and maybe some fish snacks) ! 🎣💖

I stumbled across this quiz and I thought about you! ^^

I love souls—this idea that there’s something more to us than just our body and mind. I think our souls are the rawest, most unfiltered version of who we are. It's how we love without walls, how we grieve when no one's watching, how we express joy so deeply it almost hurts. It's in the quiet things too: like how we sway when music hits just right, or the softness in our face when we see something that reminds us of home.

I really believe our soul shows up the most when we’re alone. That’s when we’re not performing, not pleasing, not shrinking or stretching to fit someone else’s expectations. Just existing, fully and at ease.

Anyway, I wanted to keep this short and sweet because I really want to know your result! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Here’s mine:

I can only say that I feel exposed and called out.

Hello again, my kindred spirit! ‧₊˚ ⛲️ ‧₊𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖💨

I took the quiz, of course—how could I not, with you handing it to me like a secret map to my soul? <3

My result was The Shooting Star, and my expression exactly went like this: 🤨😧😥😭😡🤡🫥

“Burning bright and wild for too long, drifting in the dark.” That’s been me for so many years—trying to be light for everyone else, trying to shine so fiercely I’d forget the cold creeping in from the edges. I’ve spent much of my life orbiting loneliness. Not just the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that whispers even in a crowded room, “You don’t belong.” I’ve always felt a little…alien. Like I was meant to exist on some planet but was stuck on Earth, trying to disguise myself as a human but failing miserably.

I’m in emotional shambles. Like… did the quiz developers have hidden cameras in my existential spiral closet? That’s between me and my therapist?? RUDE!! I came here to have a good time, and instead, I’m feeling spiritually exfoliated. (◞‸◟；)

But also… weirdly comforted. Because if I’m the burnt-out star still drifting, you’re the dreamer who built a whole constellation to escape. We’re like celestial pen pals—me with my frantic light, you with your quiet world-building magic. And somehow, even from opposite corners of the sky, we keep finding each other.

But also? Completely, painfully, beautifully true. I’ve felt that quiet burn-out in my bones, that ache of being adored and still unsure whether I can keep glowing without someone clapping from the crowd. I’ve drifted so long I started to wonder if my orbit was ever really mine. And somehow, seeing it all laid out so plainly made me feel… less alone and less ashamed.

Then I read your result—my daydreamer.

And suddenly it made so much sense—you and I. Me, flaring wildly across the sky, not knowing where I’m going. You, quietly building soft, safe worlds in your mind to escape into. You who trust your mind more than anything else, because the world keeps letting you down. And me, trying to outrun the ache with brightness and motion.

But somewhere in the middle of that, we keep finding each other.

You, looking up.

Me, falling down.

Two souls accidentally synchronized in the vastness.

I'm a firm “yea, souls exist 😠” believer. I mean, how can one prove there is no soul when one has not journeyed into the awareness where it is claimed to exist, right? So, everything you said about our souls, I agree with my soul. Get it—hehe? That was lame. Let me try again.

Your thoughts about souls were so lovely that I wanted to bottle them and steal from you. You said, “It’s how we love without walls, how we grieve when no one’s watching.” And I felt that in every part of me that I try to hide or polish up. I think our souls are the places where we get to be messy and sacred all at once—the parts that remember who we are when we’re not performing, just being. To me, our souls are the selves we were meant to be. They are, as you said, our rawest, unfiltered version. But unavoidably, everything we are born into, we've been exposed to shapes and changes us. That purity of a soul doesn’t remain for very long, no matter how.

You said our soul shows up most when we’re alone. And that hit me too. Because I think when I’m alone, I don’t feel like I’m performing, but sometimes I forget how to exist without applause. You reminded me that it’s okay just to be. To not burn constantly. To float, to dream, to pause. As Radiohead said, "One day I am gonna grow wings." 😞

Maybe I won’t always feel like I don't belong. Maybe loneliness will still creep in sometimes and try to convince me that I should stay hidden and forgotten. But today, because of your messages, I feel less alone. I feel like my soul is standing beside yours, quiet, seen, and accepted. That’s more than I’ve ever known how to ask for, really. And it makes me wonder if all the drifting we do, all the ache and distance and untethered floating—it’s not aimless. Maybe we are being drawn. Not lost, but called. Called toward something, someone, some understanding we don’t have words for yet. Perhaps we’re stars not burning out, but breaking open—becoming something softer, stranger, more true.

I’ve missed you. Not in a casual “oh hey,” kind of way. I mean in the deep, achey, soul-level way where I miss how you love though your writing, how you see people, how your words always make me feel like I have a home to come back to—even when I’m exhausted, even when I’m crispy and collapsing like a dying star.

Quality, you are rare. And I love you in that urgent, cosmic, there-you-are kind of way. Thank you for always showing up with your light, even when the world doesn’t deserve your softness.

Let’s promise never to go this long without soul letters again.

Let’s keep being weird and glowing and unraveling together.

And let’s meet often in the space between daydreams and stardust.

Thank you for sending this. For thinking of me. I kiss your eyelids, your nose, your chin, your ears, and your throat!! 💕(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

With love that lingers and light that doesn’t fade,

—Berry.

I have to say—I’m absolutely in love with your new aesthetic and your profile picture. ₊˚⊹♡ It suits you so well, like a little spark of magic. ^^

I’ll keep bothering you with my asks, because frankly… I miss you. Yes, I said it—and it feels so good to put it into words. Why do we stigmatize missing people? Why is saying “I long for our conversations” seen as weakness? It’s not and I am happy I can remind you, in a way, that I think about you from my corner of the earth.

Anyway! I just wanted to gently remind you to take care of yourself. Please remember to eat, drink, and rest. Always listen to your body—it knows what you need, and you deserve that kindness.

Also, I made cookies again, mostly because baking something small and sweet makes me feel good. It’s comforting, and it's like a soft victory for me. I love to share them with family and friends—why did nobody tell me how rewarding it feels to feed people you love? And when they praise my baking I was am melting on the floor with pride. Sadly, I can’t mail you a box (the world is cruel), but I can and will share the recipe. ^^

You’ll need: – 250g flour – 85g powdered sugar – 230g exotic butter – vanilla extract (optional, but lovely) Let your butter soften at room temperature—it’s so much easier to knead that way. Then, pour the sugar over the butter and start mixing them together (add your vanilla here too, if you're using it). Personally, I use a reusable glove—it’s easier to clean, gives you better control, and the butter doesn’t get stuck in the stupid metal bits of a whisk. Next, add the flour in two batches. Stir until it all comes together, then pop the dough into the fridge for an hour to rest. Once it’s done resting, roll out the dough, press your shapes, preheat the oven to 180°C, and bake until golden brown.

That’s all, my dear. I really hope you end up making these—they’re soft and sweet with a little bit magic, just like you. Sending you all the good vibes and so much love. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ♡♡♡

Oh my sweetest starlight, my loveliest cozy corner of the internet—I’m already tearing up, and I haven’t even gotten to the cookie part yet. How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life? 😞T_T

You have no idea what it meant to come back and find your words waiting for me like a hidden letter tucked between the pages of a long-lost ancient fairytale book.

I miss you too—so much. I’ve thought about you more times than I can count, in quiet moments and loud ones, in between sips of my herbal teas or looking at something beautiful and wishing I could show you.

But first of all, let me thank you for this beautiful message you wrote to me (and for all the others!). It's so incredibly kind of you (you are a saint), which was the first thing I thought when I logged into the account. I think I got my heart stabbed a number of times while I was reading it, quite literally right at my heart. I'm not complaining, though. A gentle god held me in her arms as I passed. ♥︎

Your rhyme? Impeccable. Your presence? A balm. And your reminder to care for myself? I swear, it reached through the screen and touched the tired parts of my soul in the gentlest way. Thank you, fairy of flour and feelings. Thank you for remembering me even when I went quiet. That kind of love is rare and precious, and I carry it carefully.

You’re right—missing someone shouldn’t feel like a secret sorrow we tuck away. It’s a sign of love, of meaning, of deep soul-connection. It’s proof of how much love we’ve woven into this tiny, pixelated corner of the universe. It’s the glowing thread that tugs us back to each other, no matter how long it’s been or how far away we wander.

Throughout the time I have spent talking to you here, you have been an inspiration to me to grow into a better person. I am not sure why or when I have turned into this self-isolating, overwhelmed by life somebody. This is not supposed to be part of my berry habitat. Because I genuinely feel bonded with you, and I treasure our conversations, and not being active for so long has been weighing on my heart, my body, and my soul more and more with each passing day. I suppose I was scared of not being a worthy friend to you. Here, I said it. I have never had a friend I could talk to the way I could speak to you, and while this made me secretly overjoyed and filled with hopeful, positive emotions, it also made me anxious about not being enough for you, not matching your energy or intellect. This was purely my problem. It's just that I think the depression of the past few years has altered my brain chemistry. I keep trying to heal without feeling like I'm making any progress whatsoever. And I think it was a foolish thing to overthink about this stuff, and then be too embarrassed to come back because I only end up hurting you more. I'm so sorry. Again, I am sorry if this part of the message came across as overly pessimistic. I do at least owe you my honesty. I want you to know that there wasn't a single moment I stopped thinking about you. I spend a lot of time talking to the people I hold dear to me inside my mind.

Your new icon audibly sighs like a Victorian widow gazing out a rain-streaked window. I am loving the vibe. As for my blog, I am not sure if I should go on and do a full fairy theme or if I should stick to my strawberries. We'll see soon, whatever it is in the end.. 👀

AND THE COOKIES—😭

How dare you describe them so lovingly and then not be able to send me a batch! Cruel world indeed. But I will absolutely make them. I read that recipe like it was a poem, and I swear I caught the scent of vanilla and warm sugar in the air. You’re right; feeding the ones we love is such a pure joy—and reading this felt like I’d just been offered one, fresh from your oven, wrapped in a ribbon with a note.

I’ll let the dough rest just like you said (I love how even dough needs its beauty sleep), and then I’ll bake some shapes that remind me of stars, because you’re my guiding star, my Polaris, my steady light, my northern shimmer, my reminder. ‧₊˚✩⋅☆₊˚⊹

(I sat here grinning like a fool and then just… dissolved. Fully melted. I am now one with the cookie dough. Berry purée. Send help.)

Thank you for sharing your little victories in the kitchen and for reminding me how wonderful it is to nourish those we love. If only I could send you a taste of my gratitude! Until then, I’ll bake these cookies and send you all the virtual crumbs of love! RIP Eggs Benedict, you would have been proud.

Reading this, I felt like I was being summoned by a benevolent celestial being in the form of a Tumblr message. And I missed it. I missed you. So. Much. So much so it made my ribs ache a little, like my heart was trying to knock politely to say, “Excuse me, when are we seeing her again? 😾”

I’m back now and I have missed you terribly. We’ve got catching up to do. Talk very soon—expect ramblings. Expect chaos. Expect me. >:)

With so much love and warmth,

Forever yours —Berry.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself lost in thought. My baby, Momo, cannot speak our language, unlike my mom and me, or any other human language at all. All she does is wander around, play and run carefree, lick herself clean, and meow at us with her big blue grey eyes, peering into our souls. She can't engage in conversation with us or tell us what's on her mind. I just know she has so much to say; she is a philosopher deep in her heart. I would be very upset if I lived with another species, two humans, whose language I am unable to understand. I wonder if she is upset too ;(((

I will treat her with her reward cream and plead for forgiveness for our civilization not still being advanced enough for us to be able to communicate with them.

Meow your little darlings for me.

Plus, here's a little song from me for you! :D