#cracked open a new tin of hot cocoa

[akirakirxaa]

Cuddle & Snuggle prompts 23. snuggling up to them when they're cold

[Prompt list here! Takes place in my unreleased Haurch Lives AU.]

The door to the small cottage creaked open, the snow from the storm outside blowing wildly inside behind Akira before she kicked it shut. She began to shed her warm winter clothes when she realized the house was freezing. It was nearly as cold as the blizzard outside. She stopped by the kitchen, starting up the stove and placing a kettle of water on top, before continuing to the sitting room.

"Haurch?" she called out. The fireplace had dulled to embers, likely having not been fed in a while. She grabbed a new log, tossed it into the fireplace, and tossed a haphazard fire spell at it to get it started before turning to the sofa, finding her lover curled up, fast asleep. She smiled softly and knelt next to him, shaking his shoulder gently. His eyes cracked open, one hand moving to rub the sleep from them, then lit up, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Ah, you've returned!" he took her chin in one icy hand, pulling her in for a kiss. She relented for a moment, happy to see him, then pushed away, taking his hand in both of hers and rubbing.

"You're freezing!" she scolded. "There's a storm outside, you should have fed the fire before taking a nap." He grinned sheepishly.

"W-well," as if just realizing how cold it was in the house, his frame shivered. "It wasn't exactly planned. I was just so comfortable in front of the fire, waiting for a beautiful maiden to come join me." He reached for her, but she hopped up out of range. Akira popped into their bedroom, pulling a spare duvet from the wardrobe before heading back to the living room where he had sat up, his long arms wrapped around himself. She flung the comforter around his shoulders, the heat from the fireplace already making the house comfortable enough to shed her coat and toss it on the nearby matching chair. She made to sit with him when the kettle whistled, reminding her of what she'd started.

"Oh!" she hopped up as if the sofa had burned her, scurrying to the kitchen. "Sorry, I'll be back in just a moment!"

"Take your time, love," he nestled into the comforter, content to wait for her. Akira found their two favorite mugs on their shelf, pulling them down and reaching for the tea tin before changing her mind and instead grabbing the cocoa powder her friend Ren had taught her to make. Haurchefant still preferred to make hot chocolate by his own method, but the powder made a decent cup when it was Akira making it. She quickly poured the hot water, gave each mixture a stir, then went back to her beloved, handing him the steaming mug.

"You spoil me, dearest," he grinned at her, happily taking the drink as she settled in next to him under the comforter, the large blanket easily stretching over both their shoulders. After sipping their drinks for a few moments, they set them on the tea table before the sofa and settled back into the duvet as the heat from the fireplace banished the chill from the air. With a sigh, she settled back into the crook of Haurchefant's arm as he pulled her close and rested his head on hers. She took one cold hand in both of hers, rubbing it between them to bring the warmth back.

"Is that better?" she asked, repeating with his other hand. He hummed thoughtfully, then adjusted them so that he was stretched out on the sofa, Akira laying over top of him, and the duvet over them both. He sighed contentedly.

"That's better," he smiled into her hair, and she had to admit she agreed. "I daresay I would think it a fine spring day with how warm I feel now." She giggled, twisting a piece of his hair around one finger for a moment before reaching to pull his face closer, planing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Or so she planned, but he turned at the last moment to capture her lips, and for a while they just stayed like that, quietly enjoying each other's company with gentle touches and quiet kisses while the wind howled outside, the cold a thousand malms away.

#wol x haurchefant #wolchefant #haurchefant greystone #final fantasy xiv #my fanfiction #oc: akira kirxaa #haurch lives #i was torn between this or doing one with Emet and his empress since now we know he hates the cold lol #but this won out since i'm actively writing with this ship #thanks for the prompt! #ask response #oh and akira's house is located in empyreum if it wasn't obvious #haurch lives au #ship: red like roses

[xyliane]

love or fear of cold

summary: killua can’t sleep. it’s the problem with getting used to a storm who can’t shut up and can’t stop moving. when it’s quiet, it’s hard to tell where he went. 

notes:  okay yeah I didn’t write anything for several weeks but look over here, a fluff! for that au I have where gon’s a summer storm and killua and alluka are stormchasers. also happy saint’s day for the patron saint of beekeepers and the plague. G, aged-up killugon (killua’s ~23 or 24, gon’s a storm so.), thunderstruck au, 2000 words. (title’s from mumford and sons)

----

Killua can’t sleep.

Once, it wouldn’t have made sense that some place can be too quiet. His parents’ homes are either too far away or too high above the world, the barest wisps of clouds or the distant hum of traffic the only white noise to break through the thick walls of metal and glass. Even Gramps’s place, the old mansion an hour outside of town, doesn’t so much make noise as echo with nothing, the butlers’ footsteps silent. The world was quiet, and Killua had slept easy knowing that was how it was made for him.

But that was a long time ago.

When he and Alluka had first stayed at Palm’s house, pressed into clean clothes and warm food by a cranky Palm and an apologetic Ikalgo, neither of them had slept well. The whole place creaks with a threat that it’s about to fall down even in the lightest breeze, as though the warmth built steadily in an ancient heater will leak out the cracks. The house isn’t too far from her restaurant, but it’s been around since before the storms can remember, a weathered old monster not nearly large enough to hold three (mostly) humans, a doctor, an octopus, and a storm.

Now, Killua’s used to the aches of old timber, the sighing winds of open plains, even the chill of winter creeping around the mantle. It reminds him that he’s not where he was. But more importantly, it reminds him that Gon’s around. The storm has trouble staying in one spot for very long, let alone trying to sleep like a normal person. So he roams the fields and the forests, and the winds howl after him. Maybe they chase him, but knowing Gon, he’s leading them around, exploring the nooks and crannies of the world. He might not be staying with Killua at night, but he won’t leave either. They’ve only known each other since summer, and Killua already can’t imagine a week going by without seeing his friend, without hearing his laughter or smelling the static of wet fields and thunder. It’s a strange comfort, hearing the creaking of the world at night and knowing it’s Gon. Strange, and new, and exciting in ways Killua isn’t sure he wants to explore yet.

Tonight, though. Tonight is silent, and Gon’s not around. So Killua can’t sleep.

At least Alluka can. His sister sighs softly, buried under a stack of quilts Palm dug out of the closet. The forecast said it was going to get cold, but neither Zoldyck was prepared for just how cold. Not this early in the season. Killua’s own pile is even thicker, but it’s not the cold he’s having a problem with.

His whole body shivers when his feet hit the icy wooden floor, and he wraps himself up in at least two of his blankets. The whole house is quiet, the only sound the creaking of the floorboards as he tiptoes out of the room. If he can’t sleep, he can at least borrow Palm’s cocoa tin while she’s not awake to chastise him about how much sugar he puts in his hot chocolate. He’s an adult, with a paying job and a solid following on social media. He can drink as much sugar as he likes.

Killua gets halfway down the stairs when a familiar frizz of static settles over his skin. He spins and nearly catches the hem of his quilts, hissing a curse as he struggles to not tumble down the stairs. Maybe it’s the magic his family buried in his blood, or maybe it’s being around the storm for too long, but Killua knows exactly where Gon is.

Worry drains out of his shoulders before he realizes he was carrying it. Not like Gon would leave. It’s silly to think that the house was quiet because Gon left. Gon would have said something first, because he’s loud and energetic and bleeds with his emotions. Killua never had anything to worry about.

...Hot cocoa comes first.

A pot of boiled water later, Killua follows the gentle static through the chilly air up to the roof. As the panel drops back to the shingles, the storm jolts up, smile bright enough to see even in the moonless night. “Killua!” he says, voice too loud for the silence.

Killua smiles despite himself. “Hey Gon. Can you give me a hand?”

A warm wind stirs around them both warningly. But this time Gon decides to not use a small tornado to lift Killua, instead taking both mugs of hot cocoa to let Killua scramble onto the tiles. “Why are you still awake?”

Killua shrugs, carefully rearranging the blankets around his shoulders so he can sit comfortably. “Couldn’t sleep. Why are you here tonight and not running off? And gimme my cocoa.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Gon says, and hands over one of the mugs before taking a sip of his own. “This is a lot of sugar, Killua.”

“I can have as much sugar as I want. Not like I’m going to sleep anytime soon.” He takes a long slurp, ignoring how Gon snickers. “You don’t even try to sleep. I know storms don’t sleep, but you’re in a human body. Do you not want to try?”

“Maybe someday.” He leans against Killua, and his skin is unnaturally warm through his favorite jacket. “You seem to like it.”

“I don’t like it, but I have to. Sleep deprivation sucks.”

Gon hums, and the cold night air vibrates. “I could sleep with you?”

Killua spits out his cocoa. “That’s--Gon, there’s sleeping, and then there’s sleeping, and you don’t know… What are you--?”

Gon is laughing openly now, and a warm breeze wraps around both of them like an extra blanket. Killua decides storms are assholes. Or at least this one is. So he swipes the second mug of hot cocoa and downs it in a single go, glaring at Gon all the while.

The storm pouts. Killua does not notice how cute it is. Storms aren’t cute. At least, not this one. Kirk was cute, in a Tropical Storm funny postings from the national weather service sort of way. Anthropomorphic storms with constellations of freckles and big brown eyes and a laugh that makes Killua’s heart pound--those aren’t cute.

Vengeance exacted and hot cocoa gone, Killua settles back into his cocoon of blankets, and Gon returns to his spot at Killua’s side, head leaning against the quilts approximately around Killua’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to go to the forest tonight because the stars were talking,” Gon says.

Killua blinks. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Exactly! They speak in silence, and sometimes you can figure out what they’re talking about. Listen.” Gon points up at the night sky. Stretched out above them is a canopy of stars, unblemished and bright against inky darkness. Some are brilliant, massive orbs of burning gas lightyears away but sparkling like gemstones. Others are scattered like dust, too far away to gather together. All of them are so far away. But above Killua, they almost seem close enough to touch.

He wonders what Gon hears in them.

“I can’t hear anything,” Killua finally whispers.

Gon nods. “That’s okay. I didn’t figure out how to listen to them for a long time, either.”

“Oh.”

They’re quiet awhile longer, Gon listening to the stars and Killua listening to the breeze. Up here, it’s easier to hear the gentle patterns of wind swirling around Gon, the storm’s summery warmth pulling at the evening chill. Occasionally, the shingles will tremble, or the half-plowed fields will rustle below. The night’s quiet, but not silent. Not with Gon around.

Killua is starting to doze when the storm laughs, a weirdly rueful noise that echoes through the roof, vibrating the shingles beneath them. “I’m awake,” he mutters.

“Oh, sorry, Killua.” There’s a strange look in Gon’s eyes, and not the sort of look where his sclera are bright gold. This look is practically human, piercing and patient and just a dash of nerves.

So Killua pokes him in the side, firmly. “Out with it,” he says. “You didn’t wake me up for nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Gon says. He’s still staring at Killua with that weird look. His hands start to reach for something, but stop halfway there and tangle in the quilts. Killua can taste the static in the air, getting denser by the second. “Killua, can I kiss you?”

Whatever Killua had been expecting, that isn’t it. Gon’s always full of surprises--that he’s a storm, that he loves the world around him and always wants more out of it. He makes everyone around him look at the world differently, because Gon can’t help but see things sideways, or from far away, or from much too close. Gon is interesting. Has been since the day they met. It’s why their friendship became so strong so fast, and Killua’s been happy with it. But Killua never even considered that Gon might want more from Killua.

Not least because Killua wants to kiss Gon.

He wants to kiss Gon.

“Why?” he blurts, and immediately wishes he’d said anything else.

Gon shrugs, a small smile on his face. “I want to.”

Killua’s mouth opens and shuts without letting out any sound. Maybe he’s curious, one more human thing for the storm to learn. Has Gon even kissed anyone before? He must have, if he’s a storm, and he looks like he does, and at least he’s seen people kissing before. And Killua doesn’t want to just think about what it would be like, kissing someone made of wind and lightning and summer.

Would kissing Gon call down a storm? Would Killua even care if he’s struck by lightning again? He can handle it, magic channeling electricity through him like a battery. And if he can handle that, he can handle...

Gon’s smile wanes a little. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he says. “I’m not--”

“Okay.”

Gon blinks, and his grin is back in full force. “Really?”

Killua shoves aside as much of his blankets as he can afford to, and covers the storm’s hands with his own. Almost immediately, a current runs between them, and the hair on the back of Killua’s neck stands straight up. “Yes, you idiot. Have you even done this before?”

As a response, Gon kisses him.

It’s incredibly chaste, barely the press of skin on skin. But Killua’s breath catches in his throat, unable to escape as their lips move gently against each other. Even if Gon’s never kissed anyone before, or has kissed as many people as Killua has, this is theirs. No one else could kiss a storm and fill their lungs with electricity, no one else would be stupid enough or brave enough or wanting enough. Killua wants to be the only one. A sudden wind curls around them, tugging at the blankets and sending Killua’s hair into immediate disarray. Like everything else about him, Gon’s kiss is warm, and his fingers tangle with Killua’s, grounding them to each other, a promise that he won’t go anywhere, at least for now.

They pull apart slowly. When Killua leans his forehead against Gon’s, a spark of static jumping from his skin to Gon’s and making the storm’s hair stand up even more than usual. And brighter than the starlight, Gon’s brown eyes are shot through with a burning, brilliant gold.

Small clouds drift and coil overhead, and Gon whispers, “Thanks, Killua.”

Killua coughs a broken laugh, his cheeks on fire. “Only you would thank someone for that. It’s just a kiss.”

“It’s not just a kiss!” Gon says.

Killua flops onto his back, using his quilts to soften the fall. Gon curls up against him, spiky hair tickling Killua’s chin and gold fading away from his eyes. But Killua can’t look away. “Then what’s it supposed to be?” he asks.

The storm turns back to the sky, a smile on his face and a chill in the air. “It’s a kiss from you, Killua.”

And Killua can hear the stars singing.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh fic #killugon #thunderstruck #my writing #aged-up characters #fluff #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #I love mumford and sons a lot #also this is super duper unedited so sorry about that #this school year is kicking my ass and I basically found a moment of spark in the middle of lecture and ran with it #so sorry if I use the same phrase sixteen times #I have a habit

[nunonabun]

The Family Look [1/2]

Steaminess will return tomorrow or the day after (as this fic will have 2 parts), I promise (and thank you to those who sent prompts for that!), but today I thought I’d work on more of a family fic (partially because I saw an old pic of my aunt with the most fabulous 60s glasses and couldn’t let it go).

“Don’t you ever look like your Mummy!”

It was such a simple, commonplace phrase. Shelagh had heard it hundreds of times, and likely said it about as often, given her line of work. Yet now she heard in it a myriad of subtexts and assumptions that she never would have assumed before her marriage; before she and Patrick had adopted the little girl they were blessed to be able to call their daughter.

—[ 3 days earlier ]— 

How much allspice is the proper amount? Lucille had loaned her an old family recipe for a dish called ‘jerk chicken’ which her mother had mailed over and Lucille had made for luncheon at Nonnatus last week. Though Lucille had helpfully pointed out the difference between British allspice and Jamaican allspice, as with any family recipe, the measurements were vague, maintained by the current cook having cooked alongside the writer of said recipe. Shelagh supposed she could just add to her taste and then further adjust it based on her family’s reviews.

As though thinking of them had summoned them, Shelagh heard the click of the door that signalled that Patrick and Angela must be home.

“Hello dears!” She called out, correctly assuming they would come to her.

However, she hadn’t guessed the tears that would accompany her daughter’s greeting. Instead of her normal cheerful hello, Angela had simply run over and hugged her mother’s leg.

She immediately bent down to enfold her daughter in her arms. “Sweetheart, what ever is the matter?”

Angela simply shook her head and buried it in the crook of her mother’s neck.

Shelagh hear the crack of Patrick’s knees as he bent down to rub his daughter’s back and explain the situation.

“Apparently Miss Lang asked her to read from the board, and that was something of a tricky request.” He paused to see if Angela would elaborate further.

Comforted enough to have regained her vocabulary, she did. “The words were all fuzzy and I tried but…” the tears were starting to well up once more. “I guessed wrong and then everybody laughed.”

Shelagh met Patrick’s eyes over Angela’s head as she pressed her face back into her mother’s shoulder. To her surprise, he looked confused about the incident, though naturally also frustrated and sad about the reaction of the other children.

But of course he would be, he was looking at the situation through different eyes. Angela had been a wonderful reader, quickly progressing whenever her parents asked her to read the next bit of her bedtime story. Thinking back on that, Shelagh did remember Angela looking very closely at the pages, and kicked herself for not realizing the problem sooner.

Yet at the same time, Angela’s story rewound time for her, to almost thirty years beforehand when another little girl had cried over her inability to read the chalkboard.

She sat in the bricht licht i’ the humble East Window i’ St. Andrew’s, the queart of the kirk always a balm tae her hairt. Ma and Da had tried, but they didnae ken any better than the teacher why she warslt sair wi the reading. It wis anely in class; on Sundays she could read the hymns jis fine.

A saft vice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m aye sorrowed tae hear greeting on sic a lovely afterneen.” Sister Catherine settled herself beside her.

Shelagh wiped her tears an keeked up at her douche, bespectacled face, an it aa cam pouring oot.

“Everyone’s lauchin at me an Mr Wilson’s getting feejee kis Ah cannea read in skail.”

Instead i’ the worrit look Ma and Da had gien her, Sister Catherine seemed tae un’erstn an she felt a wecht lift fae her hairt.

The auld nun took aff her glesses an placed tham on the bridge i’ her neb. Suddenly the Sister’s face became clear tae her. She luikit aroon an fand the kirk transformed.

Yon same afterneen, her mither teen her tae see the ee doctor. The neist day, naething cwid bring her doon, even fin the ithers caad her a wee owl. The wardle wis a newly magical placie tae her noo, an she wis fair-tricket wi it.

Mimicking Sister Catherine’s actions all those years ago, Shelagh took off her specs and gently pulled her daughter back from her so she could set them on Angela’s face. Alarmed by this development, Angela abruptly stopped crying, and Patrick’s confusion turned to comprehension.

“Darling, could you try reading what the tin on the counter says?” Shelagh knew her glasses were probably a lot stronger than the ones Angela would need, but if this was indeed her problem, they would at least be of some help.

Angela hopped in excitement as her world changed just as Shelagh’s had when she’d been of a similar age.

“All spice!” She exclaimed, “All spice all spice!”

She took off to the living room to further explore her newfound abilities, alarming her little brother out his concentration on what appeared to be a game somehow involving a doctor and a fire truck.

“Magnavox!” She shouted. “The… Lanket!”

“Lancet!” Tim corrected from upstairs, where he was sequestered with his books.

Shelagh and Patrick laughed and turned back to the neglected dinner preparations.

“Would you like to take her to the optometrist tomorrow or shall I?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“Hmm let me write Miss Lang a note explaining why she ought to be excused from reading tomorrow and then I’ll take her after school. Choosing your own glasses is such a big moment…” Patrick placed a kiss over the temples of her own specs, and she knew he was remembering when she’d changed her old round frames for the new horn-rimmed ones he loved so much. “Indeed it is.”

—

“These!” Angela announced confidently as she tried on what must have been the fiftieth pair of glasses that day. Shelagh and Dr. Adams exchanged a look of amused relief.

“That’s a lovely choice, darling.” The pair in question sported a warm amber cat-eye frame with three little rhinestones in each upswept corner. Predictably, they looked absolutely darling on Angela.

“You look just like your Mummy!” Dr. Adams agreed, and Shelagh felt a warm glow of pride settle in her chest.

The rest of the transaction proceeded swiftly, and Angela practically dragged her mother home so she could show off her new glasses to Daddy and Tim, both of whom were suitably admiring.

Unfortunately, the next day did not go as smoothly. Once again, Patrick came home with a teary Angela, but this time his face was like a thunderclap. She didn’t have to ask.

“The other children must have said something truly cruel, and I’ll be having a word with their parents about it.” Patrick said angrily.

Shelagh nodded in assent, but bent down to speak to her little girl. “What did they say sweetheart?”

Angela shook her head, unable or unwilling to speak.

“I’ll make you some nice cocoa, and then you, Daddy and I can talk about it. How does that sound?”

Angela agreed, looking a smidge more at ease, and Shelagh set of to prepare hot beverages for the family, making extra cocoa in a spare cozy-clad teapot to set aside for Tim and Teddy when they eventually came in from Teddy’s makeshift cricket lesson in the back yard.

A sufficient quantity of hot cocoa ingested, Angela explained what had so upset her. “Claire said my glasses were pretty, and that I looked like you, Mummy, but Doris said that I was just pretending, that I couldn’t look like you because… because you’re not my real mummy.” Her tears were flowing freely once more. “And Charlotte and Anne agreed.” She concluded, before the floodgates opened in earnest.

Shelagh and Patrick both wrapped her in their arms, silently communicating sharing a look of knowing distress overtop of her small head. They had been open with her about her adoption for as long as she could understand it, both feeling it was important that it not be a shock to her, and knowing that if they didn’t tell hear early on, she was likely to hear it from a third party. Yet neither of them were naive enough to believed they had headed off all future challenges.

“Darling, it’s absolutely not pretend.” Shelagh spoke gently but firmly. “You’re my real daughter, so I’m your real mummy, and Daddy’s your real daddy.”

Patrick kissed the neat part in her hair to emphasize the point. “You remember how you grew in another lady’s tummy, like Teddy grew in Mummy’s?” He asked. Angela sniffled in acknowledgement, remembering this conversation. “Well some people don’t understand that even though you came from another lady and man, you’re our little girl.”

“But then why did Teddy come from you and Mummy?” Angela asked quietly, still shaken.

“Because sometimes different people in a family come from different places.” Shelagh explained. “But what truly makes them all a family - what makes us a family - is that we love each other, not whether or not we look like each other.”

“And if we do happen to look like each other,” Patrick added, Angela quickly interrupting to add detail, “like how my hair and glasses are like Mummy but my eyes are the same colour as yours and Timmy’s?”  

“Exactly,” Patrick agreed. “And that’s just chance. Your looks are a gift from the man and lady who made you, and even if you had turned out to look nothing like us, you know we would love you just as much, don’t you?”

“Mmhhm.” A small smile broke through Angela’s tears as she agreed.

Shelagh felt the need to add one further clarification. “There are ways you’re like me and Daddy that aren’t chance; that are because you’re our daughter.” Angela turned her big, curious eyes to her mother.

“Like right now,” Shelagh said. “That wee expression, and the way you tilt your head, it’s just like Daddy when he’s confused.”

Patrick grinned. “And when Teddy or Timmy are naughty, or when something needs to be done, your voice and posture - that’s the way you stand - is just like Mummy.”

Angela was practically beaming now, her worries assuaged for the day as pulled her parents closer for another hug.

My sincere apologies if the Doric is terrible. I used a site that had an extensive dictionary and translation tool, but it may be Google Translate quality. I wanted to get across my headcanon that Shelagh grew up speaking Doric, so her memories of her childhood could also be in Doric (as I find when I remember events that happened in French, my memory of the whole event, including descriptions is in French). If anyone speaks Doric and notes anything wrong with my translation, please tell me!

[English translation of the Doric part:

She sat in the bright light of the humble East Window of St. Andrew’s, the quiet of the church always a balm to her heart. 

Ma and Da had tried, but they didn’t know any better than the teacher why she struggled sorely with the reading. It was only in class; on Sundays she could read the hymns just fine.

A soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m always sorrowed to hear crying on such a lovely afternoon.” Sister Catherine settled herself beside her.

Shelagh wiped her tears and peeked up at her kind, bespectacled face, and it all came pouring out.“Everyone’s laughing at me and Mr Wilson’s getting angry because I can’t read in school.”

Instead of the worried look Ma and Da had given her, Sister Catherine seemed to understand, and she felt a weight lift from her heart. 

The old nun took off her glasses and placed them on the bridge of her nose. Suddenly the Sister’s face became clear to her. She looked around and found the church transformed.

That same afternoon, her mother took her to see the eye doctor. The next day, nothing could bring her down, even when the others called her a little owl. The world was a newly magical place to her now, and she was delighted with it.]

#turnadette #Shelagh Turner #Patrick Turner #Angela Turner #my fic #otp: we're like an officer and a sergeant

[gorilla-in-a-cage]

The War for the World

Jack crawled quietly on his belly, towards  the camp that his patrol squad had seen,  they had spotted the campfire just before sunrise, Jack was part of a 10 man squad, the other 6 men and 3 women of his squad were also crawling along a bit behind and around him, Jack at 17 was the best sharpshooter on the whole base, he just needed to get close enough to see the camp and pick his targets.

As Jack looked through his scope he saw the woman, as she put the coffee pot on the fire and start digging through the packs that sat next to the fire, she was probably making breakfast, for the camp, he sighted her and on the order of his squad leader who was also looking through a scope, made the shot and there it was the telltale burst of green blood as his headshot hit, dropping her. The Endorightian, as they were called appeared human in every aspect except for the fact that they had no external ears, and six fingered hands, and of course their green blood.

The Captain ordered the men to move into camp, there were three small tents, Jack kept his post, rifle ready, for any movement in the camp, the men moved in and Jack heard the shots, then the all clear, he stood and walked into the camp,

There were six dead, three men, two women, and a young boy, but such was the truths of war.  It had all started a little more than two years ago, when Jack was 15, years old.

The first ships appeared in the skies over major cities, the governments of the planet attempted contact, and when it was finally made, the ships were allowed to land in only certain spots, then the first shots and deaths of the war happened, a ship was destroyed as it came to land, other ships started firing on cities, and then huge colony ships appeared and started landing.

Millions died as major cities and colony ships were destroyed, nukes on both sides were fired, now the planet was divided, the Endorightian, in the hot equator zone, and the Humans in the northern zones, the Humans better able to stand the cold of the northern zones. The areas where the cities had been destroyed by the nukes were empty zones, the Endorightian, had the technology, to neutralize the radioactivity, so it was safe to travel through these areas. But both sides had constant patrols and troops moving between where they people settled, because both sides laid claim to the entire planet and the war continued.

Jack’s squad, had hit the jackpot, so to speak, they found that this group of Endorightians, had collected 14 cases of can foods (tuna, sardines, spam, and several kinds of veggies) and  18 cases of various ammo from somewhere, they also had two grav-sleds, these were 4 x 9 metal sleds that used anti-gravity bursts to “float” along over the ground, they could hover at anywhere from ½ ft to 3ft, and carry easily 1000 lbs.

The team searched the camp and found meds and other supplies, as well as fresh  and dried/salted, meats in the packs, Jack searched the bodies, looking for anything that might be on them, he found  a pistol and knives, these he collected.

They headed back to their base, they were based in an old prison, some ten miles to the west of their location. The grav-sleds were going to make the trip back faster and easier.

When they finally made it back to the base, they found that reinforcements had come from New Washington City, deep in the frozen north. Jack who was a 2nd Lt. because he was a good sharpshooter and training officer when not on patrol, had a room to himself, so after debriefing he went to his quarters to find that someone had moved into the upper bunk, he was about to complain, there were still lots of empty rooms to be used as sleeping quarters, when he saw someone he knew coming down the walkway from the showers, it was his older brother Alan.

Jack ran to him and hugged him, it had been over a year since he had seen him, they and a sister who also lived in New Washington City, were all that was left of their family. Alan was a Colonel, he had been part of the team that had cracked the Endorightian language and computer coding, which had turned the war in favor of the humans. SInce both sides now had access to the same technology, the war was now mostly troops on the ground, with squads like Jack’s.

When Jack asked why Alan was there, he said that he was on a tour installing new shielding, and rader in all the forward bases, Alan was the oldest at 24, their sister Linda, who was also a computer nerd, was next at 22, and Jack the youngest.

Their father and mother, and three other younger siblings had died in the first attacks. Linda had sent lots of gifts, a dozen pair of new socks, and a 5 pack of t-shirts, plus several tins of homemade cookies and hard candies, a bunch of music CD’s, and fresh batteries for his player. SInce he was going on patrol again in two days, he put a tin of cookies and a tin of candies in his pack to share with his squad, Alan had brought him several new books, and a couple of chocolate bars which were harder to find each year, because the places where the cocoa plant grew were under Endorightian control.

After they both had showered and dressed, they went to dinner, in the chow hall, it was meatloaf night with corn on the cob and fresh baked bread, this was a smaller forward base with only 200 men and women stationed there, with the reinforcements the number was now 350 people stationed there. After dinner they  went to the officers club, to get a drink and then back to Jack’s room where they talked all night.

The next night after dinner they joined most of the others stationed at the base to watch a couple of new films that the reinforcements had brought with them.

After the movie they stayed up late and played cards, and talked finally they went to bed, both had work the next day. In the morning, Jack hugged Alan goodbye, because most of his patrols were for three day sweeps, and Alan has said that if everything went fine, he would only be there for two more days, but that he would swing back, at the end of his installation tour in two weeks.

Jack ran to the chow hall for coffee and breakfast, and to join his squad, when the squad leader came up to tell them the orders, he told Jack that he was going to lead a squad himself, they were joining 4 other squads to investigate enemy movement in a no name town 50 miles to the south, drone over flys had detected lots of Endorightian cold signatures, The Endorightian run at a lower body temp, than humans so their “heat” signatures show blueish.

Jack was to report to the Colonel’s office to receive his orders, he was going to lead a squad of sharpshooters. Jack gave Helen the tin of cookies for the squad and when to report to the Colonel’s office, after receiving his orders he ran to the tarmac to join the other squads and find his men, he found 6 men and 2 women, each like him had a long distance sniper rifle w/scope, most like him had the Barrett M82, a couple had the Blaser R93, both good rifles. And like him they were dressed in brown, grey, and green camo.

They boarded the helo’s with the other squads, and off they went, arriving at the town, Jack positioned his squad, where they could cover the others. When the squads moved closer 2 Endorightians snipers shot, Jack took one out, and 2 others from his squad took out the other, the fighting started, both sides firing, Jack and his team used their height advantage to take out Endorightian when they could, Jack had made 6 kills already when he heard the sound and turned his head to see a Endorightian two man flyer above him, it zapped him with a blue ray, and Jack knew nothing else.

Some men who were on the ground below Jack’s position, saw the front half of a sniper rifle fall, and the flyer speed off, several opened fire on it, but with it’s shielding the bullets did no damage. Two other flyers were sighted and another sniper and a squad leader on the ground were reported hit, before they also speed off, all to the south.

Jack woke and found that he was laying on a cement floor, he sat, his head spinning, and he was right, he was in a small cement room, the walls cold and grey, the door a dark solid steel, lit by a bright light in the ceiling, with a drain in the center of the floor, there were cells like this at his base.

Jack also saw that he was stripped down to his boxers, he heard two Endorightian voices outside his cell door, he could understand the Endorightian language, he roughly spoke it as well.

“Commander, this one is wake, but he is barely shaving, not yet a man, what would he know?”

“Yes he is young, but this youngster as you say, has the mark on his arm that says he has killed over 50 of our people, and he had the marking on his clothes that say he is an officer”

“He does” the man said as he slid open the small viewport and Jack could see a pair of blue eyes staring at him.

“Yes Lieutenant, so let's see what Dr. Novaro can learn from him, lets go”

The man closed the view port and Jack heard them walk away.

When the squads returned back to base, they reported 12 dead, and 3 MIA possible KIA, the humans did not know what the blue ray did, only that nothing was left wherever it was used, just a slightly burned circle, and part of whatever was outside of the circle.

After their own gun ships from another base arrived the battle turn quickly and the Endorightian killed, it was revealed that the Endorightian were trying to establish a forward rader and scanning station, hidden in the ruins of that dead town.

Colonel Alan Rightmorre was work in the rader office, installing new code programs when he was asked to report to the base commander's office,  when he reported he was told about Jack being MIA/KIA. It hit him hard, but the next day he and two of Jack’s friends cleaned up and packed Jack’s room, Alan was taking Jack’s thing home with him, he gave the gifts that he and his sister had sent to his friends.

Meanwhile somewhere in the south, the view window door was slid open and a gas sprayed into the room, Jack passed out and a couple of hours later found himself strapped down tightly to a hard wooden table and a Endorightian, standing above him placing an IV, Jack tried to struggle but couldn’t move.

The Endorightian put some kind of greenish liquid into the IV and said in Endorig, “be calm little one, the Middo will hurt a little, but we will know what we want to know”, as the liquid started moving through Jack’s veins, it burned like hell, Jack started cursing the Endorightian in English, but as the Middo truth serum worked, he started speaking in Endorig.

“So little one you speak our language, it will make this so much easier”

After three hours of pain and questions and two more does of Middo, Jack had revealed all that he knew, including the location of his base and three others that he knew. Just as the commander thought the humans were moving farther south.

The Commander gave the order and Dr. Novaro put a bluish serum into Jack’s IV, once it entered his blood stream, it would began to liquify, Jack’s organs, Jack started screaming as it began to work, but both Endorightians ignored his scream.

AFter all it was these humans that had invaded their world.

[daisycactus20-blog]

Sunda: A Seat At Melbourne's Best New Restaurant?

Sunda is an intriguing restaurant slightly hidden away on Punch Lane on the edge of Melbourne's Chinatown area. It is named after the Sunda region incorporating Indonesia, Malaysia and Vietnam. The menu is an intriguing mix of these three cuisines crossed with native Australian ingredients-think buttermilk roti with Vegemite curry topped with shaved Tasmanian truffles or an unforgettable Bika Ambon honeycomb cake.

There isn't anything really like Sunda in Sydney which is my prerequisite when choosing restaurants in Melbourne. Knowing this, my food writer friend Sofia suggested that we dine at Sunda. Chef Khanh Nguyen (formerly of Mr Wong, Bentley Restaurant & Bar, Yellow and Cirrus) hails from the inner west in Sydney and moved to Melbourne in December 2017. Sunda is also Khanh's first venture by himself.

"I didn’t like that people saw Vietnamese food as a cheap cuisine. As with other cuisines, Vietnamese food is just as time consuming with so many techniques to produce the dishes that make it what it is. I felt like I would be restricting myself if I were to open a Vietnamese restaurant and cooking Vietnamese food alone. From there I decided to cook south east Asian food, which became my new goal. The flavours are somewhat familiar to what you would find in south east Asia but by combining it with native ingredients it creates something quite unique," he says.

The simple glass box dining room is made up of bar seats as well as two long share tables. Bar seating allows you to watch the chefs in action and is where we take a seat. They bring us a tasty Achar (pickled vegetables) with dried soybeans and kohlrabi to snack on.

Truffle roti $36

A day earlier Sofia tagged me on an Instagram post of Khanh's letting me know that we would be dining on the final night that they had Tasmanian truffles on their menu. I almost feel that truffles are the universe's way of making you thankful for winter and at Sunda they're generously grated over a crispy, buttery, buttermilk roti served with a round of Vegemite curry. If this isn't a dish to suggest that multiculturalism works I don't what is.

The vegemite curry roti dish is the result of several weeks of testing. There were versions of the dish using a wattleseed dough, a version cooked in lemon myrtle oil and one with a Davidson plum sauce. But it wasn't until one of his chefs made a simple roti at home and told him that it was better than the ones that he was making that he pared it back, "Sometimes you just shouldn’t try to much with adjusting a traditional dish," he says. They replaced the milk with buttermilk, used cultured butter, condensed milk and layered the dough with brown butter and made the roti what it is today. It is a lengthy process which is why it is an off menu item and they only serve 20-25 daily. And the Vegemite curry? "The vegemite component is made from the usual ingredients you’d find in a curry with added butter, roasted yeast, vegemite and sour cream. That little dip has around 35 ingredients, giving it a unique and complex flavour," explains Khanh. And it is amazing.

Crispy tempeh, ginger flower, tamarind, palm sugar $6

Even tempeh, an oft derided vegetarian or vegan ingredient becomes a thing of tastiness with a rich palm sugar and tamarind sauce with fried ginger flower on top. It's like a tasty chip dipped in a sweet, tangy sauce.

Wagyu rendang bun, pickled radish, fermented sambal $9

We watch as they fry the wagyu rendang bun. The wagyu is soft and not as spiced as some rendang can be but it's served puffy and piping hot with a wonderfully pungent fermented sambal as well as pickled radish to take the heat out of the sambal if you need it.

‘Otak otak’, spanner crab curry, finger lime, rice crisps $27

The most popular dish coming out of the kitchen is undoubtedly the otak otak. Usually it's a light fish mousse wrapped in banana leaves in a smart little package. This version is a long and slender spanner crab stock and coconut milk parfait infused with curry paste then set with a seaweed extract. It is served resting on a charred banana leaf with picked spanner crab meat, chilli, finger lime, coriander and a nuoc cham (sweet fish sauce dressing) gel parfait and served with rounds of house made crispy rice crisps which you spoon it on. I dare anyone to stop at one rice crisp of this. The curried spanner crab mousse spreads lightly and creamy with the crunchy crisps.

Fremantle octopus, bush tomato, lemongrass sambal, onion $24

Although I think that this is perhaps one dish too many for the two of us, I'm so glad that we ordered the Fremantle octopus. It is exquisitely pretty and come cut into bite sized, tender pieces on top of a bush tomato and lemongrass sambal with slices of onion.

The creamy sambal is made with lemongrass, shallot, tomato and garlic then is cooked down until caramelised and blended until smooth and seasoned with kombu stock and sherry vinegar. The sauce is spicy and addictive while the octopus melts in the mouth.

Lamb rump, cashew nut, saltbush, native curry $40

We are often the girls with eyes bigger than our stomachs. This lamb rump curry is a version of a dish that Khanh's mother used to make. When the lamb arrives it's a generous portion. There are slices of melting, fat ringed lamb rump enriched with curry paste and Vegemite with cashews, saltbush and a native curry. The native curry is made with the usual curry spices with the addition of native spices like lemon myrtle, aniseed myrtle and native pepperberry. The cashew nuts have been braised for hours in Indonesian palm sugar and crispy fried saltbush seasoned with vinegar.

Egg noodles, XO sauce, chicken crackling, pepperberry $22

One of Sofia's favourite dishes was the egg noodles with XO sauce and chicken cracking. I immediately gravitated towards it too because when it's freezing cold I go for comfort foods like breads, noodles and pasta. And this is a beauty. With a good char from the wok the egg noodles are cooked with XO sauce and native pepperberry as well as a sprinkling of crunchy pieces of chicken crackling. It's sizeable too and the sort of dish you find yourself going back to, even after you think you've eaten enough.

Bika ambon, banana custard, macadamia, pandan $18

And then comes dessert and a must order is the Bika Ambon. It's an Indonesian cake with a delightfully spongy texture. Khanh describes it as "It's a cake I first experienced during a trip to Medan, Indonesia. I was fascinated by the little air pockets and strands that were layered through the cake and decided I wanted to put it on the menu at Sunda." The process is long and the cake is an infusion of coconut milk and cream, kaffir lime leaf, lemongrass and dark palm sugar. It is then left to ferment and sour with yeast for four before being poured into a cake tin and cooked for two hours. Khanh serves it with banana custard, macadamia and pandan ice cream as an ode to banana bread. It's like a puffy crumpet banana cake in a cake form. The banana custard, roasted macadamias, pandan ice cream all go wonderfully with this soft, warm and spongey cake.

Vietnamese coffee, chocolate, coconut, wattleseed

And because it's the end of truffle season, we also try the Vietnaese coffee dessert. It's Khanh's take on Vietnamese coffee ice cream which he drank every day during his research trip. It starts with chocolate coffee mousse, dehydrated wattleseed cake, puffed wild rice, cocoa nibs, coffee honeycomb, young coconut granita and a condensed milk ice cream with Vietnamese coffee dust and what else but shavings of lush truffle. I only wish there was something like this in Sydney!

So tell me Dear Reader, which dish did you like the sound of best? And when offered truffle as an option, do you take it up?

This meal was independently paid for.

18 Punch Lane, Melbourne VIC 3000 Tuesday to Thursday 6–11pm Friday 12–3pm, 5:30–11pm Saturday 5:30–11pm Closed Sunday and Monday sunda.com.au Phone: [phone]

Source: http://www.notquitenigella.com/2018/09/27/sunda-melbourne-review/

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Winter Lip Balms

I have to make a confession: I am obsessed with lip balms. Not in a cute or quirky way, I just need them for my dry ass lips. I know the reason for my crusty smackers is probably because I don’t drink enough water but even when I do drink enough, applying lip balm has become habitual. It’s the first thing I do when I wake up and the last thing I do before I go to sleep. It’s been the most consistent and longest standing part of my routine for years. I don’t go anywhere without it.

I know full well that people generally don’t give a shit about lip balms until they desperately need them. Lip balm companies will mass produce weak ointment with cheap scents that do not do the trick. After years of testing lip balms, probably hundreds of pounds spent on trying to find the right one, I am still on that quest. So let me share some of this wisdom with you. It’s getting colder, your lips need some support. Let me help.

Now - do not purchase your usual bog standard ‘lypsyl’ or ‘carmex’. That’s rule number one. I don’t think they’re very good. Anything with a tingly mint sensation is trying to cover up the fact that it’s actually shit. They also include some harsh chemicals that have no respect for your skin. Truly. I have spent years hunting far and wide for that perfect balm and no, I don’t think I have found it yet. But I’m going to reveal those that have come very close.

I categorise a balm by 3 golden rules:

It has to moisturise. That wondering sense of relief we get after applying lip balm is deceiving. The true test is how long afterwards do you need to apply it again. If you forget about the need for lip balm long after your first application then that’s a good sign.

The scent. The scent cannot be too overpowering or sickly. There is definitely a section of the industry that caters to young girls who love sickly, tacky scents. A lovely sophisticated scent can be more-ish and comforting - but of course this is subjective.

The applicator. Now this may not seem like the most important factor because it isn’t the actual product which is why it’s the third rule, however, it still makes a difference. The EOS balm is awful but their unique selling point is the egg shaped applicator and boy is that good. When you use lip balm as much as me, the applicator matters.

With these three rules in mind, let me share with you a few balms (not necessarily from the high street) that will fix your chappy woes and then some.

Hurraw!

Hurraw is a balm I stumbled across on Ebay. I thought it was a cheap knockoff of Palmers Cocoa Butter lip balm because the applicator is exactly the same. Then I noticed the price and did a double take. A fucking fiver?? Who do they think they are? Then, after doing some homework I realised this brand was legit. Vegan, organic and the flavours alone let you know that Hurraw knows what they are doing when it comes to lipbalm.

I bought the coconut - usually a scent that is prone to being sickly and therefore hard to get right - Hurraw perfects it. Delicious, dreamy, gorgeous coconut, a sophisticated scent made for adults. The applicator is one of my favourites: small, slim and pocket-sized (easily lost, though). Hurraw is a firm favourite that will not disappoint, a brand that understands sophisticated scents yet doesn’t take itself too seriously. If you want to take your balm game to the next level, Hurraw is a safe bet. However, the moisturising factor could be better - the product is rather thin which is understandable because it glides along your lips effortlessly, the downside being the product doesn’t last as long as it ought to. That being said, Hurraw is renowned for their Moon Balm: extra thick, creamy and rich. Uff.

Lush - Rose Lollipop

Needless to say Lush know their stuff when it comes to body care but can be sickly with scent. I was skeptical of their ability to produce good lip balm that would hit at even one of the 3 rules. Come on, their stuff can come across really gimmicky sometimes. I was wrong.

The price is a daunting £7.50 but worth every penny, not just because it’s a great product but unlike Hurraw, you get a lot for your money. That shit lasts. Rose Lollipop is my favourite because of its subtle floral fragrance with citrus undertones. Made with Turkish role oil, candilla and orange peel this delicious balm is so moisturising. It’s a delight to crack open the tin and smear this product onto chapped lips. The product comes in a small tin with a screw top. This can be a problem in the summer when it gets hot and the product melts because of the heat and resets. In the winter, the product is rather stiff but quickly melts when met with the heat of your finger. It’s gorgeously velvet but messy at the same time - tins are my least favourite applicator for a reason. If you want an indulgent scent with moisturising properties, this is the balm for you.

Hotel Chocolate  - Chocolate Peach

My friend had convinced me try Hotel Chocolate’s new hot chocolate with the chocolate frosting in the shape of a rose. She had me at hot chocolate. We waltzed into the store eyes firmly set on the barista at the back of the shop before I got pleasantly distracted - Hotel Chocolate do lip balm. What the fuck! I no longer cared for the hot chocolate. I needed to spend a decent amount of time analysing these glorious looking wooden pots filled with chocolate lip balm. You may have guessed that I cannot stand sickly scents but I was impressed at the bravery of a chocolatier to attempt lip balm.

To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of a lot of them purely because I am not a fan of chocolate scented things. But then I stumbled across the chocolate peach pot, which is probably was dreams are made from. Velvet, luscious, romantic, cosy, just plain delicious - this scent puts me to sleep with a smile on my face every time. I don’t use it as a day balm, it’s too shiny and messy, you need to use it as a night balm. This is the best night balm I have ever come across. When uninterrupted, this balm works its magic overnight, leaving lips feeling plump and saturated from the application the night before. The scent alone is something I could only imagine Willy Wonka coming up with for me especially. At £7, it’s worth buying for a night balm. The applicator is unique but clunky to carry around in a pocket. I also hate pots.

There you have it. 3 reliable, honest reviews of balms you need to buy to break away from the monopoly bogus balm companies hold unwitting consumers over. Use those 3 rules when you’re desperately trying to salvage your lips this winter - you’ll thank me for it.

#lipbalm

[englishmansdcc]

‘Tis the season’ and all that pish and bibble, as we gear up for the Christmas period with all the usual trimmings, including plenty of nerdy gifts and treats. As it happens, Funko fans have already planned ahead for their goodies to drop through their letterbox to place under their respective trees, as the latest edition of their Disney Treasures boxes start rolling out to subscribers in the next week or so. We’ve been provided a box to take a look at so, without any further to-do, let’s dive in – but not before we warn off anybody not wanting to be spoiled about its contents.

  Are we good? Are you sure?

  Good. Let’s crack on, then.

This is the fifth of the Disney Treasures Boxes, following some brilliant editions so far – last months saw an incredible super-sized Maleficent figure which will remain hard to top for any of the subscription boxes that Funko produces. This latest edition comes in a compact and bijou package, which I feel is perfect for tiny youngster hands: the target audience for these boxes, perhaps?

As we’ve seen in previous boxes and to be expected, we are greeted by the presentation of the STITCHED PATCH, featuring Scrooge McDuck (as appearing in the leading role in DISNEY’S A CHRISTMAS CAROL, I’m reliably informed) atop a sprig of holly – the sixth box should contain a central patch, completing the circular pattern of these patches – and also the CERAMIC METAL PIN which is the first appearance in the box of FROZEN‘s Olaf. It’s a Christmas-themed Disney box, were you expecting anything else?

Opening up the flap, and discarding the TREASURE MAP / DESCRIPTION LEAFLET (which teases us about the sixth box, due next year: ‘Never Ever Tower’), we get a first for Funko: a FROZEN OLAF COOKIE CUTTER – should be fun for kitchens at Christmas. I’m not entirely sure how this is going to be received by Funko fans (who can be rather judgemental at change at the best of times) but I can picture families, getting the icing out and decorating their own Olaf cookies. I think it’s cute… as are the next item.

If you’re a fan of Tim Burton‘s stop motion animated classic, and you’re not sure you’re getting the classic Christmas accompaniment in your stockings, Funko have provided some very cheesy THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS SOCKS! Yup, you heard that right. They’re nicely stitched and pretty cool – featuring a snowman-version of Jack Skellington – although they’re not overly thick for the winter. Just an interesting addition to the box content.

And there’s another new item to add to the roster as we dive deeper, and another fitting piece for the cold winter months: a MICKEY & MINNIE-BRANDED THERMOS FLASK – ideal to pour that hot cocoa as the temperature drops. It’s a cute design on the flask and an high-quality item that you could even expect to find on the shelves of Disney Stores. (You won’t, of course – all these items are exclusive to the box.)

The next item is one of my personal favourite additions to these Disney Treasure Boxes, the MYSTERY MINI TINS. The artwork is always fantastic and the quality of the vinyl figure inside is always top-notch. In this addition, keeping with the festive theme, we have a BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Belle figure, dressed from the scene where Belle and the Beast have a snowball fight during the blossoming romance. It’s a cracking figure, full of charm in the sculpt and wonderfully painted. Wonderful.

Which leaves just the one last piece in the box, and the one that the Funko fans come to the party for: a FUNKO POP! VINYL FIGURE, which is like the others we’ve seen in the Disney Treasure boxes so far – a nicely minimally designed figure, perfect for the younger collector. This POP! is of Bambi, skittering across the ice (done here as a clear plastic base), and it’s a very cute sculpt. While the paintwork is a little hit and miss in places on the review copy I received, on the whole, it’s a lovely design with a great fade on the ‘fur’ and a cracking expression on Bambi’s face, especially around the eyes.

And that’s the box, everybody: some new additions, which I’m very curious to see how they’ll be embraced by subscribers, and some tasty items to add to the collections. Unfortunately, this Snowflake Mountain box is no longer available on the site (keep your eyes open at conventions in the US where Funko are exhibiting, you never know what stock they bring to the floor) but you can find out more about future Disney subscription boxes by heading to https://disneytreasures.funko.com/ – you can subscribe at $30 per box and I’m certain the series will continue beyond the six and final box in this first run. I, for one, am looking forward to it.

SPOILERS! @Disney Treasures, Powered By @OriginalFunko: Subscription Box UNBOXING (Dec 2017, 'Snowflake Mountain') 'Tis the season' and all that pish and bibble, as we gear up for the Christmas period with all the usual trimmings, including plenty of nerdy gifts and treats.

#Disney Treasures #Funko #Funko Pop! #The Nightmare Before Christmas