#it’s so delightfully wintery!!!!

[kittenintheden]

No Thoughts, Just Vibes

Oh, you know, just a little Solstice/Midwinter treat for you. Enjoy!

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Tav (descriptionless) (BG3) Content warnings: PWP, PIV sex, oral sex, sex toys, tooth-rotting fluff

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Their adventures by night in Faerún take them all over, from the Underdark to check up on Astarion’s siblings and their new spawn charges to Waterdeep in search of potential arcane solutions for certain undead individuals with sun sensitivity.

In fact, they find themselves entering Waterdeep just in time for Midwinter. The magicked streetlamps of the place glow golden and are festooned with all manner of wintery decorations, which feel oddly out of place in the seaside city but have a magic all their own nonetheless.

It’s just past dark when they approach a wizard’s tower, having spent the daylight hours getting to know the tavern and inn down the way while the sun still sparkled off the water. Now that it’s safe once again, Astarion and Tav ring the bell near the tower door and are greeted with a series of chiming meows in the style of a popular carol.

“He really doesn’t have to try so hard,” Astarion says, smirking despite himself. “And yet.”

“Let him be the dork of his dreams,” Tav chides playfully. “He deserves it. We all do.”

On cue, the large door of cypress wood before them swings open and their wizard friend holds out his hands in the foyer of his tower, arms wide.

“You made it!” Gale says, beaming. “Come, come inside. Please mind Tara, she’s been quite taken with the mistleberry and has made herself sick more than once despite my gentle reminders .” He yells the last words toward the spiraling staircase and from a nook nestled high in the wall, he receives a hiss in response.

“Relateable,” Astarion mutters as he comes inside, but he accepts an embrace from Gale nonetheless, giving him a stilted pat on the back.

Truly, the lot of them are glad their adventuring brought them to Gale’s doorstep. It’s nice to be off the road and surrounded by modern luxury again, and the wizard’s gone out of his way to ensure their modest celebration is full of delights. He’s even procured a top-vintage sanguine refreshment for Astarion.

“Did you imbue this with clove?” he asks, swirling it in his goblet and giving it another sniff.

“Not exactly,” Gale says, cheeks rosy from his own imbibed glass of wine. “Were you aware certain herbal and spiced components cross the blood barrier when inhaled or consumed? Give the resulting blood a bit of an essence for a certain frame of time. Garlic is the most common offender, but I thought I’d skip it, in this case. This donation came from a dear friend in the spice trade. One who doesn’t ask many questions and frequently dabbles in certain other trades.”

Astarion blinks against the verbal onslaught, then turns to Tav and says, “Hold on. Is that why I break out in hives after you’ve put too much garlic in your food?”

Tav’s also delightfully tipsy and she raises her glass to him. “I love you, dearest, but I’m not giving up garlic for you. Some prices are simply too steep.”

The night winds on and on like that until eventually Tav nods a sleepy head onto Astarion’s shoulder and he guides her off to bed in the spare room at the base of the tower. He returns to Gale, who’s ragaling Tara with his own rendition of “Marvelous Midwinter” to her great disdain.

“So, Gale,” Astarion says, interrupting to give Tara an appropriately respectful scritch on her head. “I have a bit of a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all, my friend,” Gale says, swaying. “How can I help?”

Astarion reaches into his pocket and procures a folded bit of something. He hands it to Gale, who unfolds it and examines it with some curiosity before cocking a brow at him.

“Any possibility of, erm. Recreating something to this effect?” Astarion asks. “One tied to a command word, perhaps?”

“Oh, certainly,” Gale says, going into tinkering mode as he examines the object. “I would need a few components, but luckily I have them in stock, thanks once again to my spice merchant friend. A little bit of articifer ingenuity to craft an arcane battery, some relatively complex enchantment, and a… wait.”

Gale gives Astarion another look and the vampire tilts his head and smirks.

“Right, I’m not asking,” Gale says, eyes back on his new puzzle. “Give me a day.”

“Lucky we’ll be here for three,” Astarion says with a light laugh.

The morning of Waterdeep’s official Midwinter celebration dawns bright and mild, the sea breeze rustling through the thick curtains they keep drawn in the guest room to ensure Astarion doesn’t wake up with burns or worse. They doze in the double bed in their underthings, Tav draped across Astarion’s chest and breathing softly as she wavers in and out of sleep. He’d actually fallen asleep last night, pressed up safe against her, and now he smiles into her hair, tracing his fingers up and down her arm.

Eventually she stretches along the length of her body and yawns against his skin, resting her chin on him and looking up into his face. She blinks lazily and runs a finger over the length of his nose with a delicate touch.

“Morning, dear,” she says, voice still rusty with sleep.

“Happy Midwinter, my love,” he murmurs in return. “I got you a little something.”

“Oh?” Tav purrs, sitting up a bit. “Is it fun?”

He arches a brow. “I certainly hope so.”

Astarion tangles his fingers in her sleep-mussed hair and draws her to his mouth, kissing her deeply as she relaxes into his body, letting her tongue stroke against his. He rolls them both to their sides and hooks his leg over hers, taking his time as he lights up her skin in all the ways he knows she loves. She laughs, tilting her head back to expose her throat to him, and he licks along the column of it, though he doesn’t bite. He wants her fully aware this morning.

With one hand, he deftly undoes the clasps of her brassiere and tosses it aside. Her smallclothes follow quickly after. She hums, pleased, lazing onto her back as he kisses down her breastbone, palming one of her breasts and rolling his thumb over her nipple until it peaks. His mouth works at the other, teasing and swirling until she’s arching up into him and rubbing her thighs together.

“Is this my gift?” she sighs. “I like it.”

Astarion chuckles against the space below her breasts as he continues working his way down. “In part, I suppose. But not quite.”

He runs his tongue underneath her breast and then leaves her a moment to fetch something from the side table. She whines at his absence, but he doesn’t leave her waiting long. He rolls back over, slipping a ring snugly down onto the second knuckle of his middle finger.

She giggles. “Are you proposing to yourself? Fitting, honestly.”

“You’re cute when you’re lust drunk,” he says before he puts the weight of his body on top of hers, kissing her deep.

He hauls her leg up by the thigh, wrapping it around his waist so he has better access as he runs his hands down the length of her, gripping her arse tight before moving around to the front and teasing his clever touch between her legs. She’s already going wet, her arousal making for a smooth draw over her skin and she settles into it, a wide smile on her face, knowing she’s in a master’s hands.

Astarion grins. She has no idea.

He places his hand flat against her slit, cupping her and resting the ring against her in just the right place.

“ Deliciae ,” he whispers.

The ring sends a brief, rapid vibration through her core, just beside her clit, and Tav cries out in surprise, bucking her hips and gripping his biceps, her breath going erratic. She’s fully awake now, staring up into his face, wide-eyed.

“What in the hells,” she gasps.

Astarion gives her a light kiss. “I’d hoped you’d like it,” he says. Then, again, “ Deliciae .”

“Oh,” she says, her thighs shaking on either side of him as another vibration pulses through her. “Oh, dearest . Again.”

He's happy to comply, kissing her between her gasps and mewls, repeating the command word in a sultry whisper while he works her with his fingers in the meantime. His own arousal aches where it’s pressed against her hip and he gently grinds it against her for relief, just enough to keep his own head as he watches her break to pieces beneath him.

Tav rolls her head back and opens her mouth in a silent scream as her legs shake, incapable of holding back their shudders as a shivering, powerful peak comes over her under the little toy. It’s familiar but sweeter; her hips rise off the mattress and then slam down as she tips over the other side. Astarion feels her clenching and pulsing, strong and slick, and the entire ordeal is instantly worth it to bear witness to the unraveling. There is no pleasure, no greater high, than knowing he’s the one who brings her to this state. The one who has the privilege. The one she chose.

She blinks back to herself, a moan low in her throat as she tries to clear the spots in her vision. When she meets his eyes again, he’s panting himself, still rolling his hips to get some relief against her side. Her gaze clears as she breaks the surface of her pleasure and she growls, grabbing his face and bringing him down to her mouth, nipping his lower lip between her teeth until he whines from it.

“You liked my gift?” he whispers, breath quickened.

“Oh, yes,” she sighs. “Now let me give you yours.”

Tav’s hand snakes down their bodies to find his fingers and she takes them, slipping the ring off. He’s so dazed with lust that he lets her without thinking about it too much and gladly moves as she rolls them both until he’s the one on his back. Her mouth is so hot on his cooled skin as she places open mouthed kisses everywhere he likes – the space behind his ear, the place where shoulder meets neck, every rib on the way down. She spreads a hand in the center of his chest, over where his heart resides, and presses him into place as she licks down the line between his abdominal muscles.

Astarion’s cock twitches, throbbing against the weight of her body as she continues her path, and she uses her free hand to give him a rewarding squeeze and stroke, running the pad of her thumb over the split underneath the head. She gives his foreskin a little swirl, helping make sure it’s properly drawn down, and he thrusts up into her hand with a pleased murmur.

It’s taken time and significant gentle coaxing to get him to a place where he simply lets go and allows her to lavish him with attention. A lesson he’s forever learning, rewriting centuries of conditioning with care, with passion, with love. He closes his eyes and focuses on her touch, allowing himself the pleasures she’s happy to share with him.

With a slight jolt, he twitches when he feels her warm tongue follow the path of her fingers, rolling circles around the head of him and applying long licks down his length. Her fingers move to his sack, gently rolling his balls in her palm, warming them. She places a knuckle against the spot beneath them, kneading deep but gentle, finding the place that drives him wild.

“You are so good to me,” he sighs as she moves her mouth over his head again. “That’s so good.”

He senses her smile just before she swallows him down, taking his length halfway into her mouth and working him a few times before she pulls off and says, “ Deliciae .”

Astarion’s vision whites out as the knuckle pressing into his perineum sends a hard vibrating pulse through him at the same time she takes his cock in her mouth again. He gives a sharp cry.

“Bleeding hells,” he manages. “I… I…”

She pulls off of him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and says it again.

Pleasure upon pleasure crashes over him, lighting up his entire body as he writhes under her touch. She goes slow enough to make it delightfully tortuous, though it would be incredibly easy to push him over the edge in short order. She moves the enchanted ring, experimenting in different places – the base of his cock, the rim of his arse, the crease of his thighs – and each spot brings new sensations.

He’s an absolute mess by the time she draws back and crawls up his body, his hands weakly grasping at her hips as she sits up on her knees, gingerly reaching between her legs to hold his cock in place as she slides down onto it, both of them near sobbing at the sensation.

“I love you,” he manages with what little breath he can hold. “Gods, I love you, I love you.”

“Love you,” she breathes back as she rolls her hips hard against him over and again. “Love this. All of this.”

Tav rides him slowly, firmly, with intention. When they get to a point where they can’t help but pick up speed, grinding one another into oblivion, Tav lifts his shaking hand in hers and takes the ring from her finger so she can slip it back onto his, the movement reverent.

Astarion looks her in the face as he reaches down between them with his fingers spread over the base of his cock where they meet, resting the ring right alongside her oversensitive clit. 

“ Deliciae ,” they say together.

They shatter in the same moment, eyes rolling back, crying out to the morning light. The waves of delight roll like the tide outdoors, rising up the shore and receding back to the great unknown.

Tav collapses onto Astarion’s chest and his arms are so very heavy as he lifts them to wrap around her back. They breathe, and pulse, and live. Eventually, he begins tracing soothing patterns along her skin.

He clears his throat. “I take it that’s the inaugural positive review for Gale’s potential toy venture?” he says.

“Oh gods, that’s where…” Tav covers her face with her hands. “Oh gods, I have to go out there and see him.”

Astarion laughs and she laughs with him.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 fic #smut mines #onlyfangs

[mymegumi]

SEASONALLY YOURS ෆ KAMO CHOSO

⠀ warnings: potentially ooc!choso (i dont rlly write for him:()

choso doesn’t really enjoy the winter.

he hates wearing big clunky shoes, and his doc martins don’t have any sort of grip to resist the icy streets when he has to walk places. sometimes, snow gets in his shoes and then he has to deal with terminally wet feet—of which the wrinkly little toe pads sketch him out and make him feel like he has to dry off as soon as possible. the snow melts in his hair and that means any sort of hairstyle has to be de facto shoved underneath a beanie. plus his ears get cold and he hates when his ears get cold.

there’s a few perks, like driving around and looking at christmas lights, and the late night first snow walks he loves taking—everything is so serene and untouched by humanity it makes his chest ache with the peacefulness.

he feels as though the winter cold seeps into his bones, chilling him to his core until he can’t seem to get warm. he could be standing in front of a fire and still the winter’s winds would find a way to him. he hates it. he hates being cold.

he supposes winter isn’t so bad because he met you one wintery night.

he’d been taking a slow first snow walk when he happened upon you. you were in the middle of the street, splayed on your back and making snow angels. you had your eyes closed and you just seemed so at ease, so in tune with the falling snow that he thought he had imagined you. the sound of the snow crunching underneath his feet had made you open your eyes lethargically, as if there was anything else you’d rather be doing.

you had smiled at him, all teeth and gums and sugary sweet happiness that he had instinctively smiled back. motioning to the space beside you, he had laid down and made his very first snow angle. he hadn’t worried about his hair until after you pointed at it and giggled over the way it was skewing wildly. watching you laugh, he had blurted out that he wanted to see you again and the shy smile that spilled across your face was worth all the embarrassment in the world.

and, he thinks, maybe winter is so bad but, spring isn’t any better to him.

the wintery snows melt into warm soggy rains and he hates tracking mud through the house. it’s a pain to clean every day, and he just wishes the raining would stop because his hair is always soaked when he goes anywhere, perpetually cursed to have bad hair. the spring storms are more tame than the summer ones, but he dreads the feeling of ice cold rain stinging through his clothes. the pollen is getting worse, too, and his allergies act up in such a way that his nose is constantly stuffed and it feels as though he’ll never breathe normally again.

the budding cherry blossoms and tiny, fragile blooms of flowers make him feel hopeful. hopeful for the future and brighter days and sunnier skies.

he supposes that one shining day is better than the rest in spring, as a year after you’d been together with choso, you’d moved in together.

he’s never lived with anyone but his brothers, and itadori—but he was a brother for lack of a better word. so he’s scared that his unusual oddities are going to be jarring and spook you like a shy stray cat.

but the first night he splays out on the couch, legs sprawled over the back of the couch and head draped over the seating area, he is delightfully surprised when you copy his motions. you complain that you’re getting lightheaded and end up back in a normal seated position, but lean down and press a kiss to his lips and tell him to be careful. he blames the red cheeks on the blood rush to his head. in the morning, you tease him for his snoring and he blames the spring pollen.

choso supposes he has a good memory to hold onto spring.

the days turn longer, the night hours slowly slipping away to daylight and choso finds himself restless.

choso despises summer for taking away the lonely nights. he finds solace in the dark, shadowy places he can tuck himself into when he feels as if the world is looking at him too long.

he closes the curtains tight, and cuts out the sunlight when he can. he sweats through his shirts and there’s a level of frizz happening to his hair that he thinks is just innately criminal and wants to absolutely obliterate the sun and the humidity and the stupid warm summer rains that make him uncomfortable in his own skin. he showers daily, and still it feels like the grime of the day sits on his skin and he has to scrub and scrub and scrub just to feel even slightly clean. the first time you catch him rubbing his skin raw, you hold him in the shower as tears fall down his cheeks like the shower’s water down his back.

after his showers, you always press a kiss to his forehead and hold him close, gently braiding his hair so it’s out of his face and so it’s wavy by the time it dries. ‘you look so handsome when it’s this way,’ you had said once, and he’d never done his hair any other way since. occasionally he’ll style them in his usual two buns to keep his sweating hair from sticking to his neck, but sometimes he lets his hair down at home in the air conditioning and revels in the way you tease and curl it around your fingers.

choso wishes the summer nights were cooler, so he could press against you and fake complain that you’re sticking your cold feet in between his thighs. secretly, the feeling of being needed is more important than the split-second shock of cold.

and when the days begin to bleed into fall, he thinks those are his favorite days. he hates to be cliché or even close to mainstream, but fall is truly his favorite.

there’s a feeling of satisfaction in his chest when he can go out in just jeans and a hoodie, hand wrapped tightly around yours because your hands get so cold in the fall and you refuse to wear gloves. he loves the feeling of interlacing your fingers together and kissing the back of your hand, lips cool to the touch. choso is admittedly greedy for the feeling of you, the feeling of your skin against his and the cool breeze of your laugh against his neck and the smile you always, always have when you kiss him. choso has never known being greedy in this way.

the bright green summer leaves begin to brown and he curls into the reading nook with something new—a thriller, a murder mystery, a slightly above-averagely horny book, anything he can get his hands on.

fall is, objectively, his favorite.

the weather is ideal, somewhere between cold enough to pile on blanket after blanket at night and warm enough that he doesn’t feel as if he’ll turn into an ice sculpture in the foreseeable future. the landscape is so picturesque he feels as if looking at the mountains punches the air out of his lungs. he’s living in a painting and all he can do is awe and gawk and sputter about the unreal scenery he’s surrounded by.

he also loves fall because you love fall. it’s easy to love what you love because everything you enjoy is seamlessly a part of what makes you, you.

truthfully, he might like fall the most, but every season is good enough for him because he has you in all of them. as long as your by his side, he’d weather a million blizzards, sneeze as many times as he had to in spring pollen, and sweat through every shirt he owned. his love and devotion is soft and quiet but it’s always there. he will always be there for you.

#txt!writing #lowkey word vom lol #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x y/n #jjk fluff

[somekindofadeviant]

The snow recently cleared up here and even the ice is gone, only dreary rain remains. Who knows what the coming weeks will bring. Here are some Wintery recs to sip a mulled sommelier to. Also some Christmas ones, 'tis the time for family after all. Warning: Some of these fics are hosted on old archives, warnings may be absent or non-exhaustive. They may contain noncon and torture and oodles of murders. If you want detailed or specific warnings for a fic, please DM me or ask in the notes.

The Whole Family

A Winter's Tale by Coquette - Gorgeously descriptive and evocative. Viscerally captures the feeling of the freezing depths of Winter. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian House-Guests From Hell And How To Send Them Back There by Glassdarkly - The family have guests for Christmas. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Deliciously funny. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian The Perfect Present by Glassdarkly - A lil Christmas shopping. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian Charity Begins At Home by Glassdarkly - The fam doing good deeds for Gurnenthar's Ascendance. Spike's enjoying himself enormously. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian

The Party by whichclothes - When Darla and Drusilla decide to host a Christmas party, that new fledge just will not behave. It's up to Angelus to teach him a lesson. Tagged Spangelus, but the whole family is involved in the torment and fun. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian

William's First Death Day by Hello Spikey - A winter deathday party with presents and spankings, oh my! Delightfully fluffy. Rating: Mature, Era: Victorian

Red as Any Blood by Cornerofmadness - Christmas carols and fruitcake, can vampires survive it? Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian

Skating Lessons by trixiefatcat - A wonderfully silly bit of fun. The family go ice skating and the men face their fiercest foe yet: a frozen pond. Rating: Mature(ish), Era: Victorian

Poached Pairs

Affectations by Chrystler - While Angel is hanging - literally - in LA, his sire is an entire continent away. And hating every New York minute. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Past Angel/Darla, Era: 1952

Equinox: Winter by Kita - Angel ponders four ways to lose his soul to the Seasons. Takes place right after Reprisal but before Epiphany. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Darla (other pairings in the other seasons), Era: A:tS Season 2

24 Hour Midnight by Rebcake - A little stay in The Icehotel. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: 1996 Nothing to Dread by Rebcake - It's Christmas Eve a month after Buffy dropped an organ on him, and Spike still isn’t feeling it. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 Just a Couple of Misfits by Rebcake - A Sprusilla crossover with Rankin Bass's Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Vague but Pre-Series

Home by Writtenbyfates - A sweet moment of contentment together in St Petersburg. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Victorian

It's A Christmas Miracle! by Laure Alexander -  Set after the church collapsed on him, Spike isn't recovering and it's Christmas time trapped in a musty basement in Sunnyhell. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 Every Day With Her Is Like Christmas by Laure Alexander - Spike brings Drusilla her Christmas presents Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: 1970s or 1980s

The Gold Wrapped Box by duh_i_read - There's a bit of a mix-up at the department store. Woops. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Vague but Pre-Series

Waiting For Alice by thawrecka - He is not afraid. She is not bothered. It is not real. I don't know that this really fits the theme, except that the cold ice and wind is so very bitter and it's all so very chilling. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Darla/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

The Tranquility of Christmas by Kindredspirit75 - Angelus celebrates Christmas with the younger members of the family. Gory cute fluff. Pairing: Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, Era: Victorian

The Truce by Glassdarkly - It's Christmas - a time for giving, and for old enemies (or should that be frenemies?) to bury the hatchet. Temporarily, at least. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

Twas the Night Before Xmas Spangel Style by vamptasticA - This poem is cute as heck Rating: Explicit(ish), Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

Strictly Come Vampires by fenderlove - Angel is forced to participate as Wolfram and Hart's representative in a charity event on New Year's Eve. Can Spike help him not make a fool out of himself? Rating: Explicit, Pairing, Angel/Spike, Era: AU from A:tS Season 5

Shining + Santa and his Blue Elf by Acacia5 - Some adorable Christmas fun, a lil double drabble with Spike subjecting himself to torment, then a ficlet of hijinks at the mall. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Angel/Spike and Spike+Ilyria, Era: A:tS Season 5

Slip a Sable Under the Tree by Janet Lynn - The boys show each other a lil Christmas spirit. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angelus/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 A Merry Bloody Christmas by Singedbylife - Spike is facing yet another Christmas all alone. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: Post-Series

History Repeats Itself? by snogged - A lovely little drabble. Spike and Angel repeat their “first time.” Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: Unstated

Slice of Time by Josey - A delightful whiling away of time by the fireplace. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angelus/Will, Era: Victorian

Stranger Things Have Happened by Estepheia - Christmas 2001, Spike and Angel bury the hatchet. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 6 Nothing Else Matters by Estepheia - 6 weeks after Christmas, a bruised and beaten Spike visits Angel. The sequel to Stranger Things Have Happened. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 6

#fic recs #fanged four #angel btvs #angelus #darla btvs #spike btvs #drusilla btvs #spangel #spangelus #spike x angel #sprusilla #spike x drusilla #dangel #darla x angel #see i was gonna make a pretty and elegant banner #but then i threw this hot mess together in like ten minutes #and anything else afterwards seemed like a betrayal #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #ats #angel the series

[hauntedjpegcollection]

black hole

wc: 3490 au: college au ch: benny, maran

I told you so, sits very comfortably on Benny’s tongue, just as Maran’s heel sits on his knee. He has to chew the inside of his cheek to not say anything—no matter how justified it would be—fingers feeling fat as they peel open a large, square bandage.

He has to flick his hand to the side to get the plastic backing free. It flutters away and falls like a feather, discarded beside the other wrapper in his already very messy room. Maran fidgets, because Maran is always fidgeting in some way or another. His hands wind into Benny’s hair to keep himself steady, as he stands in front of the bed on one foot. Benny sits, focused on the easy task at hand, even though those fingers do get distracting.

He smooths the bandaid around Maran’s angry red ankle, fingers pressing at the edges to make sure it sticks. He knows from experience how sweat can make a bandage curl up and begin to peel away.

“There,” he concludes, hand wrapping around Maran’s bare calf. He glances up with raised brows.

“Oh, just say it, Ben. Know you want to.” Maran’s teeth indent his plush lower lip, creating a spot of white Benny feels compelled to suddenly kiss. He resists that urge, in favor of giving in to another potentially more sinister one.

“Well,” Benny grins as his hand pulls Maran’s leg closer. The boy stumbles forward, his hands roaming from hair to Benny’s shoulders. He glowers, but it’s an adorable and brattish expression, nothing serious. Pale, inked hands wander over Maran’s muscular leg. His body hair is coarse and short, making him delightfully fuzzy. It wouldn’t be the first time Benny’s caved and simply enjoyed rubbing his face against him.

“I did tell you to be careful.”

“Come off it,” Maran huffs, expression still petulantly cute. Benny kisses the top of a freckled knee, eyes big and triumphant. “Alright, yeah, I’ll stick to my converses today.”

—

After they’re dressed, Benny spares a glance at the cause of Maran’s bloody, blistered heels. Brand new white Doc Martens sit beside the front door to the apartment. There’s a bit of blood on the inside of one of them that Benny will sit down and clean out when they get home.

They’d been a present. One of those ‘just because’ presents. Just because Maran deserved gifts. Just because Benny was a sentimentalsap and he knew something about seeing Maran kicking around in big blocky boots would be so fucking adorable. Just because he loved Maran. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, he thought he could say it like this.

“You have to wear t-two pairs of socks,” Benny says as they cross the wintery parking lot of the shitty apartment complex. He wraps arms around Maran’s waist and swings him around and over a spot of black ice, his boyfriend squirming and barking a laugh as he does. “And keep the bandaids on wh-when you wear them next.” They cross a desolate street, no traffic this early in the morning. Benny can practically feel the headache forming, the caffeine dependency making him twitchy.

“And y-you need to walk with your weight on your heels more,” Benny continues, palm slipping into Maran’s. “Like a penguin.” Their hands tangle more together and Maran swings them back and forth. The wind is cutting and cold, but it’s not that bad out, considering it’s supposed to be winter. Snow lingers, dirty and slushy in the gutters and the trees are barren and dead. The world is sapped of color, grays and cool blues. Maran’s cheeks are bright red underneath the chill. Benny peppers them in kisses before they enter the dinner.

“Hey, Ben,” the girl at the counter calls out, weaving between cooks behind her. She holds up a full pot of coffee, dances toward people to refill mugs. “Maran!” She calls out happily, giving a wave that he enthusiastically returns. “Sit yourselves!”

So they do. They find a regular spot, a nice table that can only fit them, next to the window. It’s not necessarily scenic, especially with dreary beginning winter weather outside, but Benny feels comfortable next to windows. He doesn’t like feeling boxed in—and Maran likes it because the pastry display is directly on the other side of them, so he can begin planning what overly sugared monstrosity he’ll end up getting.

Their feet bump together under the table, Benny’s old, broken in combat boots and Maran’s scuffed up white converses.

“They’re kind of busy,” Maran comments, elbow to the table, chin to his palm. The red in his cheeks has faded mostly. It lingers on the bridge of his nose, on the tips of his ears. He fiddles with a sugar packet idly. Benny sits slumped with his hands in his jacket pockets, a sneeze building behind his nose.

“Whoa. Hi, Benny.”

The sneeze rips out of him, louder than he means it to, making his entire body rock forward. He’d barely been able to catch it in the crook of his elbow. More than a few turn to stare at him, but once Benny wrenches his face free from his arm, all he can look up at is Kel’s golden face.

They’re doing something new with their hair. Or, was it new? Benny can’t even remember the last time he’d seen them. Surely it’s been over a year—and even then, it’d been a passing accident at a party, where Kel had offered to get him a beer from the cooler they stood beside and Benny had told them he was trying to cut back. Kel had laughed, but Benny couldn’t remember if it was a condescending one, or if they’d just been awkward. Kel was awkward; they were a bit strange and eclectic and why the fuck were they working at Henry Street Diner, where Benny came to eat breakfast with Maran nearly three times a week?

Kel tucks a strand of their maybe new, long black hair behind an ear.

“Long time no see,” they say.

“Uh,” Benny replies.

“This is weird,” Maran comments, looking sweet in his own confused smile. He also looks apprehensive and Benny is reminded that Maran has psychic feelers attached to his entire fucking body; he can just absorb waves of emotion and sort them into categories and know what someone feels. Benny loved Maran for it, because it made it easier when he was struggling to even put a word to what he was feeling, but in that exact moment, it made him sort of nauseas.

“Uh,” Benny repeats, hands flattening on the diner table.

“So weird,” Kel laughs, pulling a notepad from the apron cinched at their trim waist. “Not every day your ex boyfriend sits in your section.”

Maran’s sneaker lands in Benny’s lap. It makes him grunt a bit, reach down to readjust so the flat heel is against his thigh instead of sitting on his aching knee. All the pink has drained out of Maran’s face now, and he stares at Kel.

“Could ask to switch with someone else,” Maran finally says and his smile is anything but friendly. Maybe to a stranger, it would be—Maran is the sort of pretty where every expression he makes seems somehow inviting. His cheeks are round and his jawline is cuttingly handsome and his eyes are big and full lashed. But he tilts his head, chin still cupped in his jaw and there is something resembling cold snow in his stare. Benny is only a little surprised.

They could both do better about jealousy. Benny could probably stop slapping drinks out of peoples hands as they try and give them to Maran as a come on—Maran could probably stop shoving himself literally in front of Benny when people came to approach him for flirty conversation (not that Benny minded that, because it usually planted Maran’s ass directly in his lap and he very much liked that ass). But Maran didn’t usually act so snippy so quickly.

“I’m not trading a two top for a family of six,” Kel replies, with a thumb over their shoulder to the rowdy group behind him. Sure enough a child is throwing pancakes onto the floor with reckless abandon and neither of the parents seem to care. Benny’s eyes switch from the child to Kel, and he realizes they have a name tag then. Benny slowly pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Because he’s definitely talked about his first college relationship with Maran. Not with any details other than ‘well, they broke my fucking heart’, desperately moving on to another conversation instead. That was enough for Maran, who was, if nothing else, a very fierce defender of Benny’s heart.

“How h-have you been?” Benny finally asks, in a sort of pathetic attempt to make temporary peace. The tension doesn’t seem to have affected Kel at all, who uses their teeth to uncap their pen.

“Well, I have a second job now, so could be better. Could be worse!” Kel has the same spiky smile that had made Benny approach them; it was a dual sided snide and friendly, cocky and a little self conscious. Their brows knit together. “You’ve graduated by now, right? Is it Dr. Benson yet?”

Bennny’s stomach sinks and he’s surprised at the grief that fills him. At the cold feeling that wraps around his heart and squeezes and the angry wasps that swarm around inside his head at the realization that Kel thinks more time has passed than it has. Or truly can’t remember what year he’d been in when they’d started dating. He swallows and rubs a hand down his throat, but before he can answer, Maran does for him.

“Didn’t you guys date, like a year and a half ago?” He laughs. “You started your program around the same time. What, time flies when you’re broken up with?” The comments more overtly mean than Maran usually is. Benny’s hand sinks below the table and wraps around the man’s ankle, holding it. Maran really only has eyes for Kel, who blinks down at him. They look incredibly unsure, hazel stare flickering between the two men.

“This is my boyfriend, Maran,” Benny says.

“I like your jacket.” Kel points with his pen at Maran, who looks down at it and then smiles wider.

“It’s Ben’s, actually.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Benny clears his throat and points at Marissa, the girl behind the counter. She holds up a fresh pot of coffee, smiling and oblivious to the incredibly surreal and weird scenario that they’ve landed in.

“Coffee?”

“Jesus, true.” Kel slaps their notebook against the table and starts to turn. “You were the worst coffee addict I’ve ever dated.”

Maran looks positively stormy about it, his expression not to dissimilar to earlier, when Benny had been smoothing bandaids over his blistered heels. The heel of his converses is getting the top of Benny’s jean clad thigh wet, but he doesn’t mind. Having a bit of Maran to hold onto is nice. Strings of his blond hair fall around his face as he leans forward. Benny folds his arms on the diner table top.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Maran replies, pouting.

“Want to split an entire pie?” Benny asks, pointing to the bakery display, where warm, fresh apple pie sits. Specialty of the diner, hand made sort of shit that Benny didn’t necessarily care for, but knew Maran went wild about. His boyfriend’s face splits into more of a smile then, especially since he damn well knows Benny is going to eat two bites and then leave the rest for Maran.

Which is exactly what ends up happening.

—

Maran is lacing his converses, furiously, for the second time that day. He’s muttering under his breath. He stumbles a bit and shoulders the wall for balance so he can get the second one on. A classic X-Files poster is crinkled by Maran’s hand on the wall. I WANT TO BELIEVE. It’s survived all the way from Benny’s pathetic high school days. Maran’s tongue sits between his teeth, pink and cute and bitten for concentration.

“Maran,” Benny says, sitting on his bed, back to the wall. Pillows prop him up against it. They’d both been there together, cuddling for lack of a better word. Only now Maran was yanking at the jacket he’d all but finally stolen, shoving arms through it. His cheeks are red again, and not from the cold this time. His teeth click together on another muttered sentence. “Maran.”

“What an asshole!” He explodes, a hand waving toward nothing in particular. He stomps his shoe on harder. “Who says that to someone?”

“I dunno. Black holes are cool.” It’s an attempt at a joke, but it only seems to make Maran angrier. His lips thin and his brows knot together and his eyes narrow. He keeps clenching and unclenching his hands—and Benny can understand the frustration. The anger, really. If the roles were reversed, he’s not entirely sure if Maran could stop him either.

“I’m going to go back to that diner and—”

“Kick their ass?”

“Throw them in the street!” Maran yells again, hands thrown in the air. He’s like this, in all conversations. Hands used to emphasize every point. But Benny doesn’t like when he’s so angry he starts tossing them around, when his chest is heaving for air because he’s so furious. Maran doesn’t get angry a lot, not like this anyway. It makes Benny feel guilty, but it also makes him feel…good. Justified, a little, even if that wasn’t the right reaction. And that only makes him feel guiltier.

“Mar, I w-was a bad boyfriend.”

“You probably weren’t. And—and even if you were—that’s no reason to compare someone to a black hole.”

“One of the c-coolest natural phenomenons in existence?”

“You’re a person!” Maran snaps, now gesturing toward him with those frantic hands. Then all at once, his shoulders sag visibly. His face crumples into something pained. Benny glances down at his lap, so he doesn’t have to see it.

Truthfully, Benny hadn’t been a good boyfriend to Kel. Sure, he’d not been bad. He’d not cheated or worse. He’d let Kel move in when they’d only known each other a few weeks. He’d been just as jealously possessive as he was with Maran, and Kel had liked it just as Maran secretly did. They’d gone on dates, most of them fun. They’d slept together in a variety of different positions so nothing ever got boring. Kel had never felt boring—but Benny had always felt static anyway.

He’d never actually let Kel close, is what he’d realized, in dating Maran. He’d never told Kel why he hated Halloween. He’d never admitted, like he had with Maran, that he was self conscious of his hair or his teeth. Kel had never stayed up until morning hours, helping him with index cards and rubbing Benny’s sore shoulders after hours of sitting at a desk. Kel had never asked why Benny didn’t ever mention family. Maybe they’d been sort of shitty to each other in different ways, dating in a way that was superficial and fun but never anything more.

Maybe Kel hadn’t been wrong that Benny had some black hole inside him that was impossible to fill. But…maybe Maran was right that they were a bit of an asshole to say it.

Benny holds up his hands, to indicate silently to Maran that he wanted to hold and be held. It was probably the only thing that would actually stop his boyfriend from storming out, going to the diner and making a scene. And Maran does stop, immediately and cross toward the bed. He crawls up and onto it, knees on either side of Benny’s thighs. His hands cup underneath a pale, stubbly jaw, thumbs brushing. He presses kiss after kiss to Benny’s forehead, so many that his cheeks start to go warm under the affection.

“You’ve got sneakers on my bed,” he mumbles.

“I thought you liked when I wore the sneakers in bed?” Maran says suggestively to Benny’s temple. It surprises him enough to bark out a bashful laugh. He loves being surprised. Maran’s lips move from his temple to his cheekbone, to his nose and then his lips. The kiss is planted firmly, more loving than it is sexual. Benny’s arms wind around Maran’s torso, jerk them closer.

“You are not a black hole,” Maran says.

“Mar—”

“I mean it, Ben.” His dark, pretty eyes are fierce and furious. He shakes Benny’s face, their foreheads touching. “You. Are. Not. A black hole.” They’re silent a moment, their breathing mingled and close. He tries to suppress the rising emotion in his chest; it threatens to prickle behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to remember how much that statement had originally hurt—how it had shaped the way he made friends for a long time after that. How he’d nearly fucked up knowing Xavier and Lark because of it. And he still, sometimes, kept both those men at a distance, because it was easier. Benny swallows, audibly and breathes out and tilts his head back until it touches the wall.

He opens his mouth and Maran leans in close again.

“Don’t argue with me,” he warns. The feeling in Benny’s chest dislodges. He huffs out a wet laugh and then another one, that’s real and warm. He slides his hands across Maran’s lower back.

“God, you’re hot,” Benny groans. “C-Can you say that again, but with your m-mouth on my mouth?”

“Ben,” Maran laughs. His name, a laugh. Benny loves that. Maran rocks a little in his lap.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” Benny continues, smiling nastily. “You wanna sixty-nine?”

“Ben!” The laughing dissolves as he’s wrenched to the side to lay on the bed, and Maran’s laughing is cut off by their mouths coming messily together.

—

Afterward, they’re both spent and laying lazily tangled together. It’s cold in the room, but everywhere their bodies touch is warm, warm, warm. Benny lays on top of Maran, head to the boys chest, ear to his sternum. The steady thump of his heart was hypnotizing; he’d listened to it go from racing to steady. Maran’s fingers card gently through his hair, making a shiver run up and down Benny’s spine occasionally. It almost felt better than the sex, being touched in this gentle, sweet way.

He could have fallen asleep. He was dozing as it was. Benny need only let his eyes fully close and he’d probably pass out, a sweaty mess on top of the other man. He knew from experience that even if it became uncomfortable, Maran would still just lay there. He’d let Benny sleep for however long he needed.

“What’s that one moon you like?” Maran asks. His voice is slightly rough, hoarse from the oral sex. It makes a tingling sensation mingle with the shivering. Benny is effectively spent, but the well of arousal for Maran seems so fucking endless sometimes. He sighs contently, moving to sit up just enough so they can look at each other.

The lights have been switched off, but Maran had put up string lights along the walls. Benny was fond of them now, especially because they made Maran glow softly.

“Titan,” he answers sleepily. Maran’s fingers brush a strand of floppy, pale hair from his face. Benny stifles a yawn straight into Maran’s chest and then raises his head again. “Saturn’s largest.”

Not technically a dwarf planet, but still bigger than any others classified as such. Benny liked Titan, because it was also the first moon he’d ever memorized, and he liked Saturn. The rings. He saw them from the sky once, when he was younger, and his obsession had grown. He doesn’t think Maran is asking for a lecture, though, so he doesn’t continue. He just tucks his face to Maran’s side, nose brusquely close to the mans underarm, where the smell of him is enough to make Benny insane.

“Okay,” Maran says. His fingers draw a path from the nape of Benny’s neck, over his tattooed shoulders. “That’s you, then, alright? To me.”

Benny’s jawline twitches, his teeth grinding together. He tries to swallow down the huffing sound he makes, but it doesn’t work. Instead it comes out a bit strangled and he rolls until he’s on his side, facing away. Maran doesn’t seem to mind—this is a familiar and well loved position. He wraps arms around Benny’s waist, tugging him until his back is to Maran’s chest. A leg slides between his. Benny’s breath catches a few times.

“It’s a cool moon,” Benny says lamely, his throat a little constricted.

“You’re a very cool boyfriend,” Maran replies and it doesn’t sound lame coming from him. It makes Benny snort. It makes him feel so ridiculously loved. And he is.

#writing #college au #jlb #mgc #jlb x mgc #tiny follow up from terrible :)

[adamgant]

10 Gluten-Free & Dairy-Free Soup Recipes

10 Gluten-Free & Dairy-Free Soup Recipes https://ift.tt/rtMEy6w Sharing 10 gluten-free, dairy-free soup recipes: nourish your body with flavorful, allergen-friendly soup recipes made with wholesome ingredients. Hi friends! How’s the day going? I hope you’re having a great one so far! It’s finally WINTER here in AZ. our warm weather has transformed into a wintery tundra, and all I’m craving is a hot, comfy bowl of soup. For today’s post, I’m sharing a roundup of 10 delicious and healthy soups you can try this winter! 10 Gluten-Free & Dairy-Free Soup Recipes 1. Sausage Kale Soup via Fit Mitten Kitchen This Sausage Kale Soup (also known as, “Zuppa Toscana”) is a comforting dairy-free soup classic. A healthier take on the Olive Garden recipe with a variety of ways to lighten things up. Make in the Instant Pot, slow cooker or on your stovetop! Dairy-free, Paleo, and Whole 30 friendly. 2. Instant Pot White Chicken Chili via The Almond Eater Easy Instant Pot White Chicken Chili is a creamy and delicious soup recipe that’s both gluten free and dairy free. It’s made with beans, corn, chicken, and plenty of spices, and then topped with cilantro, avocado and tortilla strips, making it incredibly filling, too. 3. Roasted Butternut Squash Soup via Cookie & Kate This homemade butternut squash soup is the best I’ve ever tasted! This recipe is super creamy (yet cream-less) and full of delicious butternut flavor. Leftover soup tastes even better the next day.  4. Detox Soup via Eating Bird Food Give your body a reset with this veggie filled detox soup. It’s healthy, filling and packed with anti-inflammatory ingredients like turmeric, ginger, lemon and cayenne pepper. It comes together quickly in just one pot and is perfect for meal prep! 5. Dairy-Free Tomato Basil Soup via The Whole Cook This creamy tomato soup is completely dairy free but you’d never be able to tell from the taste! Plus it’s loaded with fresh ingredients and ready in only 30 minutes. 6. Coconut Curry Soup via Fit Foodie Finds This coconut curry soup is the perfect weeknight meal. It is packed with veggies, healthy fats, and a ton of flavor. It’s ready in 30-minutes and perfect for leftover soup, too. 7. Broccoli Soup via Love & Lemons You’d never guess that this creamy vegan broccoli soup is totally dairy-free! It’s made of a rich, savory blend of potatoes, veggies, and herbs. 8. Creamy Carrot Ginger Soup via Minimalist Baker A creamy, spicy vegan carrot ginger soup made in 1 pot with just 8 ingredients! SO vibrant, warming, and perfect for chilly weather. Stovetop and Instant Pot versions included. 9. Vegan Coconut Tomato Lentil Soup via Ambitious Kitchen Nourishing vegan coconut tomato lentil soup simmered with delicious, warming spices like cumin, coriander and turmeric. This creamy tomato lentil soup recipe has plenty of plant-based protein and makes a wonderful meal prep lunch or dinner! 10. Mediterranean Lentil Soup via Downshiftology Lentil soup is a classic vegetarian soup recipe. It’s hearty, healthy, delightfully filling (with plant-based protein), and warming on those cold, wintery days. While there are many variations of lentil soup, you can’t go wrong with a simple, delicious Mediterranean version. You may also enjoy: Our Favorite Healthy Fall Soup Recipes Single Serving Bone Broth Soups The Best Black Bean Soup Liv’s Favorite Soup The post 10 Gluten-Free & Dairy-Free Soup Recipes appeared first on The Fitnessista. via The Fitnessista https://ift.tt/gscIDXV January 11, 2024 at 02:42PM

#The Fitnessista

[babooshkart]

huddle for warmth (december 3)

(see all works for my 25 Days of Harry and Draco on tumblr here and Ao3 here! ❤️)

#part of this painting is my current phone background ehehehhee #it’s so delightfully wintery!!!! #anyway I did draw each freaking pine needle and then covered 80% of it with snow and yes I’m still bitter about my own stupidity #please have some art!!!! #drarry #drarry fanart #hp fanart #harry potter fanart #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco malfoy fanart #my art #domestic drarry #25 days #25 days of draco and harry #25 days of harry and draco 2021

[lifeofkaze]

October Writing Challenge 2021 - Day 5

Zadie Taylor-Allen belongs to my wonderful bestie @the-al-chemist, Farid Sikander (in mention) belongs to @carewyncromwell

Dedicated to the wine club @kc-and-oc @the-al-chemist @whatwouldvalerydo You know why🌻🌻🌻

It was common knowledge that time moved slower when one wasn’t enjoying themselves, but Reva Amari had never felt the truth of it more ardently than on this sunny winter afternoon. It had snowed the night before, and the grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a thick layer of perfectly white, powdery snow.

Reva could hear the screams and laughter from the other students enjoying themselves in the wintery wonderland through the high windows of the dusty library. She thought wistfully about her new snowboard waiting for her in her dormitory; how much fun would it be to pile up some of the snow and just whisk down the makeshift mound on it. She would even settle for throwing snowballs at the Slytherin Quidditch team; she wasn’t picky at all, as long as it got her out of this lifeless, boring library.

“Reva, concentrate,” the voice of her friend and honourary older sister Danielle broke her out of her musings. “You need to pass this test with flying colours if you don’t want to get taken off the Quidditch team.”

“I know,” Reva sighed deeply. “Give me some credit for trying.”

“I don’t see you trying that hard,” her brother Dylan jumped in. He didn’t even bother raising his eyes from his book about Potions, but he didn’t need to; he knew Reva was rolling her eyes at him without looking.

“It’s not my fault History of Magic is the most boring subject in existence,” Reva complained. “I don’t even know how you manage to stay awake during class.”

“I don’t,” Dylan said flatly, “I get Dana’s notes from the year before.”

Reva opened her mouth to protest but shut it again when she saw the withering glare of the librarian directed her way. “What are you lecturing me about then,” she hissed with a lowered voice, “you’re no better than me.”

“The best notes don’t help if you don’t put the work in to memorise them,” Dana said leniently. “You can have them as well, but that alone won’t do you no good.”

“I need someone to make this more interesting. Right now, this nonsense is drier than the desert,” Reva complained. “Maybe I could ask Farid for help?”

Dylan did look up from his book at her words. “You’re going to do no such thing,” he said with a surprising sharpness in his voice.

Reva smirked at having successfully gotten under her brother’s skin; served him just right. She wanted to tell him so, but was cut short when an enchanted piece of parchment fluttered into her view and landed before her on her textbook.

Curious, Reva picked it up and unfolded it; she recognised the handwriting of her best friend Zadie immediately. The note contained only two words:

Code Sunflower

Next to her, Dana leaned over to take a look; she frowned. “Code Sunflower? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reva didn’t reply; she was busy stuffing her things into her bag as fast as she could. She was halfway up from her seat when Dana got hold of her arm. “We’re not done here. I’m your prefect and your friend, and I promised to make sure you’ll pass that test,” she said sternly.

“I know, I’ll do it tomorrow, promise,” Reva said hurriedly and gently freed her arm from Dana’s hand. “But this is kind of an emergency.”

Before either Dana or Dylan could say anything else, Reva snatched up her bag and quickly left the library. She made a short detour to the Gryffindor Tower to drop off her things and retrieve some others from her dormitory before she made her way up to the Astronomy Tower. It was one of Zadie’s favourite places and if she was troubled, chances were good she would be there.

As it turned out, Reva had been right. She found her best friend leaned against the wooden railing running around the platform that circled the highest tower of the castle. She was bundled up in a thick coat and her blue-and-bronze Ravenclaw scarf to counter the sharp winds up here. Reva stuffed her own crimson-and-gold scarf deeper into her jacket and buried her hands in her pockets as she stood next to Zadie.

“You were quick,” Zadie said with a small smile.

“It’s Code Sunflower,” Reva replied, “you don’t make someone wait when it’s Code Sunflower.”

“I suppose so,” Zadie sighed and fell silent. A troubled expression crossed her face and Reva waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, Reva nudged her gently into the side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked gently.

Zadie looked out over the snowy grounds and extended her hand. A lone snowflake floated down from the grey sky and landed on her palm. Both girls watched as it slowly melted and left only a tiny puddle of water behind.

“I had Potions earlier,” Zadie said eventually.

“The worst,” Reva said immediately, but fell silent when Zadie gave her a look. “Sorry, go on.”

“You know I’m no good at Potions,” she sighed, “but I was really trying today. But I still messed up. I added the shrivelfig before the valerian sprigs, and all the wrong amounts, too. I don’t know how it happened, my head was somewhere else. My potion started expanding and flowed over the cauldron and the workbench and literally everywhere. It was a disaster.”

“Oh no,” Reva said sympathetically, “that can happen to the best of us, though.”

“I know,” Zadie said passionately, “but that’s not what the professor seemed to think. He was so mad at me. ‘I’m clearly teaching the worse Taylor-Allen girl’ were his words to be exact.”

Zadie sniffed ever so slightly and a wave of righteous anger flooded Reva. How did that old bugger dare talk to Zadie like that? Only because her grades weren’t as perfect as those of her older sister, it didn’t mean Zadie was stupid, or untalented, or anything else but a fantastic witch.

“Screw him,” Reva said fiercely, “he has no idea what he’s talking about. So what, you don’t have a straight O in Potions like Phoebe does. Neither do I. Neither do Dylan or Dana or Victoire. The only person I know who did is Dana’s mum, if I think about it. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know what we’re doing, or makes us stupid or anything like that. Don’t you dare think this even for a second or I’ll give you an earful. You’re brilliant, and talented and great, just in a different way than Phoebe.”

She saw the small smile forming on Zadie’s face and Reva continued. “I very much doubt Phoebe would have been able to block my throws as annoyingly well as you did in our last housematch. That really hurt my pride, you know.”

Zadie threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing clear into the winter sky. “You’d have transported her right through the hoop. If she had managed to stay on her broom in the first place.”

Reva grinned. “That’s my girl talking.”

She reached into her pocket and produced a small, silver flask she offered to her friend. Zadie raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Do I want to know where you got that from?”

“A gift from my godmother,” Reva laughed, “she sent it over the other day.”

“You know that’s probably 100 % forbidden,” Zadie grinned as she took the flask from Reva and took a small swig.

“I have a reputation to uphold after all,” Reva smirked and took a sip herself. The coffee liqueur burned delightfully and was much milder than she had anticipated. She immediately felt a little warmer.

“Speaking of which,” Reva said slowly, while she furtively pushed the snow on the railing in front of her together, “try blocking this.”

She quickly gathered up the snowball she’d formed and threw it at Zadie. Before Zadie could even react, it had hit her square in the face and Reva couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s dumbfounded expression.

“You didn’t do that for nothing,” Zadie exclaimed before gathering her own load of snow from the ground and throwing it after Reva, who just so managed to duck away from it.

The sky was already darkening when they made their way down from the Astronomy Tower, drenched, shivering and with their faces feeling like they were on fire.

Reva’s cheeks were still flushed from both the cold and the coffee liqueur when she dropped into her seat next to Dana and Dylan in the Great Hall for dinner. Dana looked her up and down with an amused expression, taking in her dishevelled state.

“Is your emergency solved?”

“You could say so, yes,” Reva smiled and helped herself to some deliciously warm soup. She shuddered when she warmed her hands over the steaming bowl.

“Wonderful, just in time to study with me after dinner,” Dana continued. She laughed when Reva pulled a face. “Sorry kiddo, I’m not letting you off the hook so easily. And there won’t be another cryptic message getting you out of this one.”

Dana’s expression turned curious. “What was it about anyway?”

Reva blew against her spoon and winced when she burned her tongue. “It was a message from Zadie.”

“Naturally,” Dylan muttered from the other side of the table, but Reva and Dana both paid him no mind.

“Code Sunflower is when you’re feeling troubled because someone said something stupid and you need to vent,” Reva explained before trying her soup a second time. It warmed her even better than the liqueur had.

Dana blinked at her in surprise. “Why sunflowers, though? They are lovely.”

Reva dipped her head back and laughed at the memory of how they had come up with that code in the first place.

“Trust me,” she giggled, “you don’t want to know.”

#hpma #magic awakened #harry potter magic awakened #reva amari #zadie taylor allen #october writing challenge 2021 #october writing challenge

[farfromparker]

Subby Holiday Sleepover

Alright y’all, it’s the Holidays and I miss sub!Tom so we’re gonna do a subby Holiday sleepover! I’ll open my ask box to this tonight and it’ll run through Sunday the 13th! (as always, no guarantee I’ll be able to write everything I get but I’ll give a go!) I’ll tag everything as #subby holiday sleepover if you wanna block it. Here’s the rules! 

ღ Subby Tom concepts (holiday/winter themed preferred!)

ღ Christmas movie rec

ღ CYMA anything holiday/wintery related 

ღ Advice

ღ Share your thirsty thoughts

ღ Ask me anything

Taglist: 

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#subby holiday sleepover #jade talks

[third-rail-vip]

wip wednesday

Tagged by @adventuresofmeghatron 💜 tagging @minuteminx @mayihavethisdanse @velvet-verve @theartofblossoming @mutantenfisch and anyone else with something to share

I’m still working away on this fic while my brain lets me. Posting on my phone at midnight, apologies for crappy formatting. So here’s another little snippet with some wintery atmosphere and some soft fools who are just getting used to being more than friends.

An hour or so later the trees parted and they found themselves crunching through thick haw frost along the banks of the Charles. Cool winter sunlight glinting like steel off the frozen river surface. The sky was clear and the temperature bitter, but at least it was dry—a welcome reprieve from the freezing rain that kept coating the ‘wealth in picturesque but traitorous sheaths of ice.

Mac left his rifle on his back in favour of a pistol gripped tightly in his left hand. His mood had brightened enough that he was back to leaning in her ear to brag that he could shoot with either hand.

“Blindfolded, backwards, upside-down and under water. All at once. Yes I get it, you’re superman.” Ivy rolled her eyes, but it was good to have him talking again.

And it was even better to have some privacy for the first time in days.

MacCready’s other hand still had hold of hers. It was delightfully warm against a cold that was tinging her fingertips blue. Every so often he’d absentmindedly lift her hand to his lips and breath some life back into her chilled fingers. All the while he never took his eyes off their surroundings.

And all the while Ivy struggled to take her eyes off him.

What can I say? They’re having a soft moment, but don’t worry their day will go horribly wrong later.

#wip wednesday #maccready #robert joseph maccready #ivy kendrick #mac x ivy #then I met you #my writing

[kittymunst3r]

Nami pressed her fingers against her forehead, closing her eyes as she attempted to gather her thoughts. It felt like it was her millionth time trying to recall the events that happened with the Golden Demon. Swallowing, Nami recalled Ahri’s words. 

I look forward to meeting with you again… 

Nami groaned outwardly and rolled over in her bed, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it to herself. She should be tracking the Golden Demon, so why was she still here? Another frustrated grunt and the siren rolled on her back, flinging the pillow away as she stared up at the dark ceiling. The red light of her alarm clock red 2 a.m. and Nami pushed herself up from the bed, grabbing her favorite vanilla sweater and wrapping herself in it.

“How did you know I was there, demon?” Nami wondered aloud, now starting to pace her small apartment. With a huff, Nami pulled on a pair of baggy, grey sweatpants and pushed her feet in a warm pair of boots before leaving, needing the cold air of winter to comfort her. 

The streets were mostly empty at this time of night, the orange cast from the street lights glowed warmly against the sharp bite of the wintery air. Nami took a deep breath and let it out, watching as the air puffed out in front of her. Continuing her trek down the street, she passed the familiar bright shine of the corner convenience store. Perhaps she’d buy a tea, she thought, reaching into her pockets before she noticed a familiar streak of blonde hair. 

“Ezreal?” Nami called out, the streak of blonde hair moving towards a nearby motorcycle stopped and turned. 

“Nami?” Ezreal cocked his head to the side then turned from the bike and smiled. “What are you doing here?”

The siren shrugged and glanced over his shoulder and looked around for his shopping bags. 

“I could ask the same of you,” Nami replied.

“I sort of work here part time,” Ezreal said with a smile and pushed a hand nervously through his hair.

“But I thought you worked for a museum?” Nami asked. This question caused the man to let out a nervous laugh while he shook his head.

“Ah- that’s uh- that’s a bit complicated. Right now I work here,” Ezreal replied.

“This must be Guardian related, right?” Nami asked with a smirk. Ezreal was a terrible liar.

“Actually-,” Ezreal began and froze, his eyes looking past Nami and off in the distance. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?” He asked suddenly.

Nami, caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation, gave Ezreal a puzzled look. 

“No, I actually live nearby-,” Nami hooked a thumb behind her. 

“I’ll take you there,” Ezreal said, an obvious edge in his voice.

Nami swallowed, suddenly feeling the air grow tense. 

“What’s wro-,” Nami began and Ezreal stepped forward, standing so close to the siren that she nearly yelped. 

“You have a shadow-,” Ezreal said, his voice incredibly quiet, then his hands were on either side of her, rubbing up and down with enthusiasm. “You look cold,” he said, louder. “Let’s go for some tea or coffee.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nami said, feeling her stomach tightening up. She wasn’t sure why, but she followed Ezreal’s lead. Lux’s diary was right, something about his man just made him easy to follow.   

Ezreal carefully handed Nami a helmet, his movements were quick but not in a panicked sort of way. It felt strange seeing Ezreal with such a serious, focused  expression when as far as Nami had known him he always held a boyishly charming sort of smile. 

“Hang on tight,” Ezreal said as they both boarded his motorcycle.

Nami swallowed hard, fighting the urge to stay and fight whoever was following her. It was against the siren’s nature to run from any fight. After all, she wielded the Tidecaller, no one could escape the drowning wrath she could bring down if someone wanted a fight.

Turning the key to his motorcycle Ezreal gave a slight shake of his head, as if he were reading Nami’s thoughts.

“I mean it, hold tight,” Ezreal said and Nami leaned forward, her arms wrapping around the man’s waist. “And don’t look behind us.”

With a jolt the pair were off, and Nami felt a surge of adrenaline as her heart pounded in her ears. Prior to now the siren had never ridden on a motorcycle and it was exhilarating and she could understand why Ezreal owned one.

Ezreal blazed through the city, his tail light leaving a streak of red to follow them in the dark of night. Nami half expected for some kind of twisted arms to reach from behind and pluck her from the bike but no such nightmare came. Ezreal continued through the downtown area, the traffic heavier as the man weaved expertly through cars. Nami lost track of time as the pair went down street after street in the most bizarre patterns. Finally, Ezreal stopped after entering a dark alley and the man gave a sigh before turning the engine off.

Swinging her leg over, Nami got off the motorcycle and felt herself wobble. There was an unusual numbness in her extremities and Ezreal chuckled, helping to steady Nami while removing his helmet and ruffling his disheveled hair. 

“That was close,” Ezreal said, his voice weary as he too got off the motorcycle.

“What was close? What’s going on?” Nami asked, crossing her arms. 

Ezreal put his helmet on the seat of the motorcycle and looked down either side of the dark alley.  

“Not here. Let’s get that tea,” Ezreal said, motioning for the siren to follow. “You look like an ice cube, and I know I certainly feel like one.”

Nami felt like stamping her feet and demanding answers right then and there but pressed the urge back, knowing that at least she would be getting some answers. And Ezreal was starting to look rather blue. 

“Very well, lead the way.” Nami nodded and Ezreal left the alley, crossing the dark, empty street. A few more minutes of weaving through more alleyways and Ezreal came to a steel door, it’s rust and decay that chipped the yellow-white paint made it look like it hadn’t been opened in years, decades even. 

“After you,” Ezreal said, opening the door with a loud creak and making a slight bow.

Nami could see a faint glow of light further into the dark room and stepped inside the large building. Where were they, she wondered to herself as Nami felt a blanket of warmth lay across her she continued inward. The squeak of the rusted door closed behind her as Ezreal followed closely behind. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Ezreal said quietly in the dim light.

“I’m not afraid,” Nami shot back, looking over at him, her face serious.

“That’s either really brave,” Ezreal said as a smile split his features. They came to another door, brighter light showing from under the door and Ezreal continued, “or really foolish.” 

Ezreal pulled the door open and Nami could see a brightly lit kitchen. It was definitely a commercial kitchen, and in excellent condition. All of the appliances here seemed new, their stainless steel surfaces sparkling in cleanliness. 

“Where are we?” Nami asked, walking through the kitchen. 

“Somewhere safe,” Ezreal said, moving to one of the stoves and picking up a tea kettle. “For now, anyways.” 

Nami watched as the man busied himself with getting two mugs, setting them on a counter and assembling the tea.

“How do you like your tea?” Ezreal asked and Nami nearly scoffed at the sheer normality of his question. Sometimes it was hard for the Marai siren to understand that this was how the people of land really lived. How did they like their tea? What would they wear to the spring formal? Did Brian get eliminated on that one show? 

Nami thought of the darkness that seeped at the fringes of her home, threatening to spread throughout the realm unchecked. That was the real world. Her world, and it was hard for Nami to admit that sometimes she dreamed of a time where she didn’t have to return to the abyss and fight against the never ending darkness.

“Strong, with sugar,” Nami said distractedly and Ezreal smirked.

“Of course,” Ezreal chuckled with a shake of his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nami asked and the man laughed again.

“Did you know that some ancient cultures correlate how you take your tea with what kind of soul you have?” Ezreal mused, starting to pour the steaming water from the kettle in one of the cups. 

“And what do these ancients say about how I like mine?” Nami asked, her head tilting curiously. Ezreal looked over at Nami as he finished pouring.

“That you’re like Lux,” he replied, bringing the siren her cup of tea. “You are built of strength, but weak to matters of the heart.” 

Nami felt her eyebrow raise as she looked on at Ezreal.

“Seriously?” Nami asked and Ezreal looked at her with a straight face.

“Oh definitely,” Ezreal said, his tone serious. “The ancients were wise. You’ll end up in love with a total scoundrel if you’re not careful.” Ezreal sucked in a breath before a snicker slipped out, his face splitting into a big smile as Nami blew out a breath of a laugh.

“Ezreal!” Nami said, pushing on him and he yelped out.

“Hey, Nami! Careful! I have hot tea!” Ezreal said, his laughter bubbling out. 

This was definitely how Lux described him in her diary, Nami thought to herself. How he was behaving earlier was totally out of character for him. So what happened? What was going on?

“Okay, Ezreal. I’ve been pretty patient, which, if you didn’t know, is not my strong suit.” Nami took a tentative sip of tea and found it to be delightfully warm and fragrant. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Ezreal shifted uneasily, his brows furrowing together as he began to pace back and forth. “First, you should know that- well, it’s not that no one trusts you- it’s just, this doesn’t usually happen…”

Nami blew out a breath, putting her cup on a counter.

“Ezreal. Start at the beginning and don’t skip around,” Nami said trying to keep her impatience from turning into annoyance. What did he mean by trusting her? Why was Ezreal at that convenience store? Nami felt her eyes narrow and Ezreal began to look nervous.

“I don’t know what I’m not supposed to say-,” Ezreal said, his eyes rolling as he tried to explain, his hands twisting nervously. 

“Then say it all,” Nami said, her voice commanding and Ezreal bit his lip.

“Fineee. But Lux is gonna kill me, that is if Ahri doesn’t get to me first…” Ezreal’s voice trailed and Nami snapped her fingers. 

“Ezreal. Focus.” Nami bit out, starting to sound exasperated.

“Ahri thinks that there’s a reason why the Golden Demon left you alive. You spent so long chasing him down, always narrowly missing this time and that-,” Ezreal’s voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air. Nami felt understanding beginning to dawn.

“She thinks I’m a spy for the Golden Demon,” Nami said, swallowing hard.

“I wouldn’t say spy…” Ezreal said, crossing his arms and shifting. It was clear that he was growing more and more uncomfortable as the conversation continued. 

“You were placed at the convenience store to watch me, weren’t you?” Nami asked, but she knew the answer already. Of course Ezreal had been sent there to watch her. The Star Guardians had been betrayed somehow before, although Lux’s diary was short on a great many important details on exactly what transpired. 

“Yes,” Ezreal confirmed but began to speak quickly. “It’s just not like the Demon to just leave anyone alive ya’ know. Jinx said when she found you he was speaking to you?” 

Nami looked away from Ezreal, remembering the sound of the Demon’s entrancing voice as it felt permanently etched in her mind.

Magnificent…

Nami shivered. “I don’t remember much.” The siren tapped her forehead where it still displayed stitches and a large purple bruise. “But I do remember his gun, and some sort of gas contraption. It had to be what kept my powers suppressed. But him speaking to me doesn’t explain why you were sent to keep watch on me.” 

“Well, I was only meant to keep an eye on your comings and goings. Then I noticed that you started to have someone follow you.” Ezreal shifted and sighed. “I thought maybe you had a boyfriend, or admirer.”

Nami blanched. Her? Something as trivial as a boyfriend? It wasn’t that Nami was unwelcome to the idea, but how could hearts and romance belong in her world, the same world as the darkness? Nami shook her head fiercely, a flush tingeing the peaks of her cheeks. “No- no boyfriend.”

Ezreal nodded. “I had to be sure. So I asked Lux about it, and she confirmed. But the flowers at your doorstep…”

“Flowers?” Nami asked, unaware of any flowers left at her apartment.

Ezreal gave a solemn nod. “They were lotus flowers.”

Nami felt her stomach seize up as she recalled the last blurred image of the Golden Demon; a white lotus flower blooming at his feet.

“What happened to them?” Nami asked, swallowing hard. “They were intercepted by me,” Ezreal said. “I thought they may have been some sort of trap set by the Demon. We had the flowers extensively tested but nothing came of it. Lux thought-,” Ezreal hesitated and Nami’s brow rose. 

“What?” Nami could feel anger welling up within her. 

“Well… she thought maybe it was some sort of signal. For you to- um-,” Ezreal looked at the ground, as if too embarrassed to go on. 

“For me to what?” Nami felt something inside her snap. What had happened to their starting anew? Was that just a trick? A way to manipulate her, gain her trust?

Ezreal frowned, his brows knotting together. “Nami… Lux- she-,” the man faltered, “she had to be careful. Ahri ordered-” but Nami moved away from Ezreal and moved through the kitchen.

“Screw Ahri’s orders,” Nami said defiantly and Ezreal winced. “Is this supposed to be the great Star Guardians?” Nami scoffed, crossing her arms. “All of you are just a bunch of squabbling children, all of you ungrateful for a power bestowed on you that could change the fate of this realm for the better. Ahri’s ordered to keep me at arm’s length, has she? Me, the only one in this lot chasing down a demented killer? I’ve seen his victims…” Nami’s eyes looked distant as she recalled the memory. “I’ve seen him hunt. What he’s done, his power…” Nami’s attention snapped to the man, her voice quiet. “Ahri-,” Nami shook her head. No, Ahri couldn’t have that much sway. “Lux thinks I’ve been compromised? That I’m somehow in league with the Golden Demon?” 

Ezreal only nodded and Nami felt disappointment wash over her. And oh how she loathed the feeling. She had told herself from her first steps on land that finding the Moonstone, protecting her people, it would come first over everything. No matter what. And yet, here she was, entangled in this Star Guardian mess because it was the first real lead she had in finding the missing stone. 

For all that was said between her and Lux, the new bud of trust that had sprouted between them was surely dead now. The Marai siren would never again trust Luxanna Crownguard. A hardness grew in Nami’s eyes as she tried to process the betrayal felt within her.

“Nami-” Ezreal started, his eyes looking sad.

“I’ve heard enough.” Nami’s eyes went to the ground. “You- you guardians let me sit as an easy, open target for him. And I’m just supposed to be okay with that? He leaves sick gifts at my home and you say nothing.” The siren balled her hands into fists, trying to quell the surge of magic that rolled off her. Nami could feel a tear start to roll down her cheek and looked up to see Ezreal reach out to comfort her but she slapped his hand away. “Lux made me track down an untraceable beast. Forced me into being a part of his sick rituals of slaughter, and I could do nothing. Save no one. All so I could be a part of this elite club, to get answers I needed for my people. The Star Guardians.” Nami didn’t hide the venom in her voice as she practically spit out her last sentence, causing Ezreal to flinch. “You’re all weak children.”

“We’re not- Lux isn’t-,” Ezreal started, his hand reaching up defensively.

“You’re trying to defend her? Trying to defend the suspicions that somehow I’m involved with a demented killer?” Nami smirked and rubbed a hand over her face. “Unbelievable.”

“I don’t think-,” Ezreal started but Nami shook her head.

“Do you really think it matters what you think, Ezreal? You have these unimaginable powers. Powers to change the fate of this star- to help so many…” Nami felt her mind drift to home, to the terrifying darkness that lurked beneath the ocean waves. 

“We do help the people of this star,” Ezreal countered and Nami gave him a look that flashed momentarily with sadness. 

“Not all the people.” Nami started to leave and Ezreal grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Hey- don’t go,” Ezreal continued, “there’s more I need to say.”

“For once in my life,” Nami said, peeling the man’s fingers back. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“At least tell me where you’re going,” Ezreal said quietly. 

“To kill the demon,” Nami said simply and Ezreal’s eyes widened.

“Nami, that’s not a good idea.” 

“Of course it is,” the siren replied. “If I can destroy the indestructible Golden Demon, then I won’t need the powers of the Star Guardians or the moonstone to save my people. I will know that my strength can surpass any darkness. And any star guardian.”

Ezreal said nothing and Nami left, leaving the same way she came in. The siren stepped out onto the street and began to walk, unknowing of what part of the city she was in. It didn’t matter, she didn’t need to get anywhere. She only needed her shadow to catch up with her.

#sakurachapternine #sakura #league of legends #lol #league #lol fanfic #lol fanfiction #league of legends fanfic #league of legends fanfiction #fanfiction #jhin #nami #star guardian #lux #luxanna crownguard #ezreal

[salamanderskin]

Sunshine (a M0llym4uk sickfic)

This is something of a gift for @just-a-nervous-bean for their wonderful artwork of Mollymauk, which can be found here and here Spellings stolen from the ever-talented @dodecahedral ‘s fic here because I couldn’t get them out of my head.

Modern AU where Molly is in the circus and Caleb is researching at the University, they are in a new-ish relationship together. No need to know the chars really. They’re soft boyfriends and Molly is miserable when he’s sick. That’s all. 

Mollymauk is, predictably, late. 

Caleb Widogast expects this. That’s why he planned a date for the cafe in the museum where he is working anyway, a place he is always happy to sit and read. The cafe is a pleasant break after the dusty hush of the archives; huge windows let in what is left of the wintery daylight from outside, illuminating the white walls and low, modern furniture. There is space for Caleb’s laptop and a stack of books beside his coffee cup. If he had his boyfriend and his cat here, the scene would be perfect-

That’s when Mollymauk arrives. The museum attracts members of enough different species that his being a tiefling with curled horns is not unusual. What draws attention is his artistic attire; He is wearing that ridiculous coat which doesn’t fasten high enough, a shirt cut in a deep v-neck to show tattooed flesh and a roguish grin. Flurries of snow have settled in his hair and he shakes his head like a dog before coming to sit beside Caleb.

“Hallo, looks like you got caught in the snow.” Caleb rises to hug his boyfriend and kiss him on his cheek.The tiefling’s lavender skin is ice-cold under his lips.

“Little bit.” Mollymauk sniffs and shivers as he sheds his coat, prompting Caleb to pass him a handful of napkins which he uses to first dry his face and then blow his nose. As he does so, Caleb gathers up his papers into his backpack and readies himself for a jaunt around the museum before closing time. 

It is lovely just to spend time together, to talk and question and wonder about the exhibits. This thing between them is still so new; he is still learning Molly’s tastes and interests and delightfully surprised by the tiefling’s breadth of knowledge. Caleb enjoys hearing Molly name plants and animals or the types of dye used in textiles, notices Molly light up for a particular colour or design. He also notices Molly sounds sniffly. 

If any other person in the world was sniffling like that around Caleb, he would be shooting them a look fierce enough to kill a man while wishing to die himself. When it’s Molly, he doesn’t like it, but it doesn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. This must be love.

He watches Molly from the other end of the gallery. The tiefling is more colourful and appealing than the oil paintings he stands in front of. Not just his flamboyantly colourful trousers or the glitter of jewellery on his horns and the tattoos on his skin, but the lithe grace of his movements. Mollymauk tilts his head like a peacock to examine a detail, his slender fingers clenching with desire for the rough surface he has been firmly told not to touch. Framed by dun-coloured still-lifes, Molly is vibrantly animated, enchantingly alive; never more so than when he sneezes so suddenly that it causes him to stumble. 

“--aah'YZSSHH-iew!!”

The sound is sharp enough to spark aggressive echoes from the high ceiling and make several patrons, including Caleb himself, jump and turn their heads. 

“Sorry!” Molly stage-whispers and swipes a thumb under his nose with another wet sniffle. 

Caleb feels a burst of amusement at how each sneeze makes Molly’s tail lash wildly, putting a few fragile exhibits in danger. It happens a few times while they are hidden in the low light of the illuminated manuscripts that hold particular interest for Caleb, and again between the cases of iridescent butterflies whose colours make Molly clutch his heart and plan a dozen more tattoos. Caleb is resting against Molly’s arm for that last one, so he feels the tiefling yank himself away and stagger double. His hands don’t quite make it to his face and so clench helplessly in the air. He looks quite undone by the force of it and it takes him a minute to sniffle himself back to composure. 

“Gesundheit!” Caleb tucks a hand round Molly’s waist for an affectionate squeeze. “You sound like you’re catching a cold?”  

“Pffff.” Molly spreads his hands in a shrug,seeming to take in his lavender skin, his extravagant clothing and the sheer assuredness of his stance, as if he is too fabulous to possibly get sick. 

So Caleb puts it out of his mind. 

……………………..

Caleb’s phone buzzes him awake on Saturday morning. 

It’s the weekend, no archive for him today and no shifts at the University Library either. A rare free day. Caleb stretches his legs and hears a questioning -mrrp- from the cat at the end of his bed. He needs coffee and he needs to pee, but he could pretend he doesn’t and stay under the covers for at least another half an hour. That sounds really good.  

His phone buzzes again.

M.T -- You free today? Come over?

Caleb -- Thought you had rehearsal?

In fact Caleb was certain. He has an infallible memory for details like this, even more so when they concern his access to a delightfully attractive partner like Mollymauk.

M.T-- Cancelled. Yasha is away all wknd im lonely :(:(

Cancelling is unusual but stranger things have happened. This is a lovely surprise. He takes a moment to recalibrate his idea of the day and then rises from bed. Frumpkin follows, winding dangerously between his ankles. A glance out of the window reveals more flurrying snow but it will be no match for his old overcoat, his heaviest boots and thick scarf. His own roommate, Nott, is out at work, but he leaves the heating on for Frumpkin and heads out into the wilds. 

“Hello darling!” Molly gives him a big smile when he opens the door, but doesn’t swoop in and kiss him, which is unusual. 

The heating is cranked up high, which is unusual too.

He follows Molly up the stairs to their first floor apartment. This is still relatively new territory to Caleb, but welcoming. His boyfriend’s housemate Yasha, often absent, has filled all available window sills with houseplants to which Molly has added candles, crystals and new-age nicknacks of all stripes. It smells faintly of weed, sage and cooking. Molly ushers him into the living room where there is one unusual addition- what he knows to be Molly’s duvet is draped over the sofa in front of an open laptop showing a paused TV show. 

“Can I get you a glass of water, tea, gin, milk, prosecco or anything else?” Molly suggests. His voice sounds wrecked and thick. 

“Whatever you’re having. Molly are--” Caleb tries to get a closer look at him but he darts to the kitchen and putters almost aggressively with the kettle.

“Schatz,you sound-” He tries again.

“Tea, then. Lemon-ginger, redbush, green, green with passionfruit, chai or normal?”

“No preference.” Caleb actually has to put a hand on the tiefling’s back to calm his businesslike cheerfulness. “Come here-” He manages to get a grip on Molly’s shoulder and through leverage more than strength is able to turn the tiefling to face him. Molly is a good two inches taller, not counting his horns, but he slouches obligingly against the counter to put them face to face. Locks of his silken hair fall over his down-turned brow and Caleb pushes them behind his ear with a practiced, tender touch. 

“What’s the matter, hm? You’re being a little… erratic.”

“And I’m usually so predictable. Boring, even.” His boyfriend laughs, showing sharp white eyeteeth.

There it is again, though, that rasp on his voice. It sounds like it hurts him to talk. And something else, too. Thick violet lashes flutter and his ruby eyes squint closed as Molly shifts to soft, panting breaths through his mouth. Caleb is caught as off-guard when the tiefling shoves him gently to one side and sneezes hard. 

"Heh-IZSSCHH--iew!

It knocks him double, hands cringing weakly towards his face but not reaching in time to make any kind of cover. Before Caleb can comment, Molly takes a shaky step back and sneezes again and then a third time, retreating away towards the back wall and punctuating each with a heartfelt, “Fuck.” “Gesundheit.” Caleb offers. Molly straightens and gives him a cringing, apologetic look. His eyes are watering something fierce and Caleb thinks he can see how ticklish his nose is, even from five feet away. The poor thing is blushed to a deep violet and he can see his nostrils flaring uncertainty. Molly hovers his hands tentatively in front of his face for a moment… lowers them… raises them quickly and draws a ragged “aaah-”  before - “YZSSHH-iew!! Fuck.”

Caleb doesn’t quite know how to react and defaults to standing still, hands clenched uselessly at his side and desperately wishing he had his cat to keep them busy. “Hold on... “ Molly groans and scrambles out of the room with his hands still cupped guiltily over his face. Caleb tracks the sound of feet along the corridor of the bathroom. A door slam, toilet paper yanked from the roll and a thick nose blow followed by running water. Little husking coughs and soft thumps like Molly tapping is on his chest with a fist to ease it. So that explains the weirdness. Mollymauk sounds miserably sick. That’s all. That’s good, on the scale of things. That Caleb can deal with. 

He finishes preparing the tea as he waits for his boyfriend to return, carries both cups to the sofa and makes himself comfortable. 

When Mollymauk returns he has added a hoodie over his outfit and is carrying a half-empty toilet roll in one hand. 

“You did catch a cold.” Caleb manages to make it a comfort and a question and an accusation all in one. 

Under the force of his voice, Molly raises his hands in defeat and retreats to sit on the sofa beside Caleb, then collapses into a full-body slump with his head tilted against the cushions and his eyes closed, as though if he can’t see his boyfriend then he can’t be seen either. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” He mumbles. 

“Whatever for?”

The tiefling rolls his face away and buries his face into the sofa cushions with a pitiful little cough. “Not warning you I was sick before you came over. And I kissed you yesterday even though my throat was getting sore. I just- really wanted to see you today, so I thought I could just not tell you. You can go now.”

Caleb actually laughs. Molly can be so melodramatic when he wants to be. He scoots closer to the miserable hunch of tiefling and places an affectionate hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles through the thick sweater. Molly begins to uncurl, uncertainly, an exotic flower inching towards the warmth of the human’s gaze.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to come over?” Caleb queries.

Molly shrugs. “I’m disgusting. And you’re-” A handwave at Caleb’s physical form,

“I am a fragile waif of a wizard who could be knocked over by a stiff breeze. What is your point?”

“If I get you sick you’ll get behind on your research paper. I know you can’t afford not to work right now and I-” he swallows in exaggerated dread as he reaches the crux of argument.  “-aaaand Nott will kill me.” 

They both share a moment to imagine Caleb’s roommate and best friend coming after Molly like a feral whirlwind. 

“Okay, so that is a fair point.” Caleb concedes. “Nott doesn’t have to know. The rest, however, is nonsense. Now look at me, schatz, and let me see how you’re doing.”

He dips a hand to Molly’s chin and tilts his head to get a better view. Molly does look pale, which given his exotic lavender colouring means that his cheeks are more of a washed-out lilac, in contrast to a darker blush where he has been scrubbing at his poor nose. There is a general, unwell cast to his features and a thick, congested sound to his breathing. Caleb doesn’t find it disgusting at all, if anything it makes him feel soft and fond. He plants a kiss to the tiefling’s forehead and reaches to the side of his neck to feel for his glands.

“Owww…” Mollymauk whines, predictably, and tries to duck away.

“Sore, then?” Caleb notes. “How’s your throat?”

“Sore as well.” Molly snuffles thickly then turns and blows his nose into some more toilet tissue. 

“Poor sweetheart, you got it bad, didn’t you?” 

“Maybe.” He says meekly. 

A soft, pathetic snuffle and Mollymauk finally gives up on keeping any space between them. He snuggles up into Caleb’s arms and lays his head shamelessly against his boyfriend’s shoulder, nestling in for warmth. His tail slips between their nested calves, anchoring them. 

“Have you had any medicine?” Caleb asks. 

Molly nods. “I had some, but it didn’t seem to be working so I had some more…” He shrugs in the direction of a bottle and a sticky teaspoon on the sideboard. 

“Okay, that’s good. No wonder you were a little loopy when I came in. Why don’t you drink your tea while it’s hot?”

They both sip tea in silence for a few minutes. Molly draws his duvet up over them both and tugs it up to his chin. The moment is interrupted by a few quick panting breaths and a chaotic- “ --aah'YZSSHH-iew!” of a sneeze that thrusts him forward, whole body shuddering.

He straightens groggily, as though it took a lot of him. “So no romantic outing today?”

“Absolutely not. Only romantic couch cuddles and possibly you having a nap. Do you think you could sleep for a bit?”

“Not if I keep- keep  --'YZZSSChieww! Fuck.”

“Gesundheit!” 

Molly keeps his head down and groans.

“So. Sleep, yes?” Caleb tries to be businesslike, which is difficult with a ridiculously purple and obviously miserable tiefling moping beside him. “Do you feel like going back to bed or staying here on the couch?”

Molly considers, head tilted. “I can’t just go to bed in the middle of the day?” 

“Of course you can, you do it all the time. You are the queen of naps.” 

Molly wavers, sniff-sniffing damply and shivering where he sits.

Caleb stands and offers both hands to haul him to his feet, as if his slight frame could be any actual assistance to his more athletic partner.

“Come, schatz, let me take you to bed. You can have a nap or watch TV and I will sit beside you and read, then make you something nice and hot for lunch. Yes?”

Molly accepts the symbolic gesture and follows him meekly up the stairs. He pauses on the threshold with a look of sudden dread-

“My room is-” 

Too late, Caleb has opened the door. Molly’s room looks as though the wardrobe department of his entire circus troupe has exploded out of the closet, where it is mixed with empty cans, bags, shoes and new-age nonsense. Caleb, who has never had enough possessions to cover the floor of a room, just rolls his eyes, more impressed than offended. The overall effect is not unwelcoming; the air is scented with musky nagchampa and the light through the fabric and fairy-lights pinned over the window is diffuse and gentle. Endearingly, there is a distinct, Mollymauk sized dip in the centre of the mattress. Extra blankets and pillows are arranged to make a nest. 

“I don’t mind. It smells nice.” 

“Thagks. I feel so accepted.” Molly jokes but his partner just nods.

“You should. I told you I do not mind if you are a little messy around the edges. Everyone is, if you look close enough. Now, lie down.” 

In a few moments they have retrieved the duvet from downstairs and settled beside each other on the bed with Molly’s horned head cradled carefully in his human’s lap. They have enough practice at this that Caleb can pet his back with one hand while reading his book with the other. It’s not as easy as it could be, however, because Molly keeps shifting and sniffling and scrubbing his nose itchily against Caleb’s upper thigh. 

“That is a little distracting, love, is that the effect you intended?” Caleb can’t keep the warmth out of his voice. 

Disappointingly, Molly shakes his head. “Not really, sorry. Ugh, I feel s- -s-ohh- fuck- ” his voice cracks and wavers up the octave. He clearly needs to sneeze again, badly. His expression is congested and miserable, too overwhelmed by the sensation to talk. 

“Sneezy?” Caleb suggests.

Molly nods, shakes his head like a dog with water in it’s ears, gives an unhappy little groan. The irritation is obvious in the hazy cast of his eyes, the uncertain waver to the corner of his lip. 

“So sneezy.” Caleb teases, fondly. “Look like you caught this cold right in your nose.” 

He reaches to give the offending organ a gentle pet, fingertips tweaking the fine purple tip. Molly responds with an almost comically deep inhale and a wounded look before executing a declarative sneeze over the side of the bed. 

"... --aah'YZSSHH-iew!

“Gesundh-”

“ah-YIIZSSHHww!” 

Caleb’s book is long abandoned by this point. His attention is fully commanded by his beloved tiefling who is trapped in a seemingly unbreakable cycle of chest-swelling gasp-- head tilt back-- hard punctuating sneeze into his steepled hands-- swear- -gasp again. 

It does wind down eventually, following a few particularly vicious, three-syllable- 

“ahh- IIZSSCHH-iEW!” 

“Fuck… tired…” He finishes.

“Impressive. Poor liebling.” Caleb sighs and hands him a pack of tissues from his own pocket. “I’ve never seen you like this..”

Mollymauk shugs. “I don’t often get sick, it’s the-” a gesture that takes in all his inhuman glory. “Thank fuck. Guess I’m making up for it. I feel like balls.”

“I am not surprised.” Caleb waits until Molly has blown his nose to the best of his ability, then scoots closer again. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing… I’m just going to have a crappy weekend…” Molly sighs dramatically, running his hands through his hair. “When I said practice was cancelled, I cancelled on them cause I felt too rough. I’m going to get so behind on learning my new act…”

“Stop whining, it doesn’t suit you.” Caleb shakes his head, reaching to settle the teifling’s curls back into place where he has mussed them up. “Shan’t.” Oh yes, he’d forgotten that Molly is a brat. 

“Then maybe I should go and leave you to your misery?” Caleb makes as though to rise, but predictably as clockwork his partner gives a whimper of loss and reaches for him.

“No- stay with me-?” His ruby eyes are big and pleading, tears actually beginning to rise. Gods, Molly feels completely pathetic right now. Luckily, Caleb cannot resist him even like this and gives in at once, his point made.

“Ah, very well, but I will have no more whimpering. I know you feel very poorly, schatz, but just let me help you.” “Okay.” Molly snuffles into his sleeve and nods.

“First I think you could have some more tea, and we could even put a shot of whiskey in it. Then I really want you to try and sleep. What if I don’t even read? You could have my full attention, yes?” He sweetens the command with a tender hand rubbing over his boyfriend’s temples and down the sides of his nose. Molly softens at once, practically purring.

In no time at all they are rearranged on the bed with a steaming cup of tea. Caleb leans up against the headboard and spreads his legs, tapping his chest to indicate that Molly should settle between them. It takes a little shuffling to settle the tiefing’s horned head against his chest, but he feels Molly relax into the embrace at once. 

His partner is a soothing weight, anchoring him in the present as Molly always does. 

He finds he does not mind the snuffly breaths and little coughs smothered against his chest; the intimacy of the moment is more than worth it. 

“This is nice.” 

“See, if your head is elevated, you won’t have so much congestion when you sleep.” He explains.

“That’s really smart,” the tiefling murmurs sleepily. “I always said you were a genius.”

A moment of calm. The winter sun comes out from behind the clouds and a ray of light slips through a gap in the hangings to drape over the bed. The crystals on the windowsill dance with minute rainbows. He feels Molly smile. “Sunshine.” He says sleepily.

“That’s me.” Caleb agrees. “Just rest, Mollymauk. I’ve got you.” 

And he does, he does. Even with Molly like this, it’s better than books and museum dates and circus shows. It is better than anything Caleb can think of. 

#sickfic #sneezefic #I literally never write just a normal modern setting #so that was kind of fun #Molly is a drama queen

[analyzingadventure]

I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t had the time to watch Digimon but tonight I will say “fuck it” and catch up with the 3 episodes that’re available to me ;_;

Episodes 14, 15 and 16, let’s gooo!

LET’S GO ATLURKABUTERIMON!

Oooooh they added sound-effects to the opening! Kinda wish they could pull a full JoJo/DIO 4th Wall Break but that may be a bit much lmao

While the recap happens, Bandai announced they’re giving official levels and attributes to all the Xros Wars Digimon! Exciting, ain’t it? (Also scary, please don’t make Jokermon an Ultimate like he’s in New Century ;_;)

Ikkakumon... I love you... Fluffy baby...

Koushirou’s new VA is starting to grow on me... He still has big Baby Energy but he’s starting to grow on me a lot

Awwwwe, Koushirou, baby... His tablet’s being funky

KUWAGAAMON! LOTS OF THEM! :O GIT ‘EM GIRLS!

Oh I’m loving the battle animations, this sparks joy

OH SHIT IT’S OOKUWAMON! Fortunately y’all have plot-armor and the huge blast didn’t hurt y’all lol

Kids these days, unable to solve problems without relying on their smart devices... Tch tch /s

Oh I wish I had been faster, would’ve loved to screenshot Kabuterimon carrying Koushirou because... Kabuterimon’s hand shielding Koushirou... It was so sweet and loving and warmed my heart a lot... ;_;

I really do take some comfort in the characters looking just a little off-model in this episode, it just makes me feel weirdly nostalgic lmao

KOUSHIROU, I KNOW YOU’RE A BABY BUT DON’T HIDE BEHIND YOUR TABLET

I swear to god if the tablet turns on magically and Koushirou somehow solves the issue with the tablet instead of realizing his Brain is Very Very Big and he can do it even without the tablet--- like please, I want this episode to have a good moral, that’s all I’m asking (Yes the tablet makes shit WAY easier but like. Like I can draw great digitally but it’s not like I become completely unable to draw if you take away my drawing tablet)

YES KABUTERIMON!! TELL THE BABY!! YES!!! THANK YOU I WAS SO WORRIED FOR A MOMENT, THANK YOU KABUTERIMON I LOVE YOU

Kabuterimon carefully giving Koushirou his tablet with his giant hands... Oh... I love the “Big Scary Motherfucking Monster loves and cares for a Tiny Human” trope and Kabuterimon has a ton of that energy in this episode, BLESS

LET’S GO ATLURKABUTERIMON!!! YEAAAAHHHHHH

HORN BUSTER!!! YEAAAAAAAAA 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

This was a good episode, it’s not done yet but this was a good episode, I’m really happy rn. That was just lots of serotonin right there

Not gonna watch the episode preview because I can just jump right into the next episode

ZUDOMON TIME WOOO

Man these episodes throw enemies at the kids fast lmao

Kiwimon! THEY’RE HUGE IN PSI WOW

“They were cute so I wanted to ride one” LMAO MIMI

Mammon’s just sliding down the mountain, lmao

Sorry I have very little commentary right now I’m just enjoying this goofiness for what it is

Ooooo mysterious windy cavern :oc

“Can’t you slide faster” I’m pretty sure you can’t control your sliding speed, it’s up to like gravity my dude

Ikkakumon... Fluffy...

I just realized, I wonder if it’s cold in there, like it is a wintery mountain and the kids aren’t wearing much... I mean it is a digital world, it doesn’t mean it has to be cold or warm in certain places, you could make a snowy mountain be hot as hell or something, y’know, ‘cause you can code stuff like that

Wow Ikkakumon can jump in like, water lmao

GIMME THE BOY

OMG ZUDOMON IS BEEFY MID-TRANSFORMATION

I MEAN OF COURSE HE’S ALWAYS BEEFY BUT LIKE, NAKED ZUDOMON THREW ME OFF LMAO

YES SUMMON THE HAMMER FROM THE SKIES GOD FUCK THAT’S COOL

HAMMER SPARK!! YEAAAHAHHHH

The kids have been missing for like three days now then? I wonder if that’s gonna be like relevant at all

Gomamon is baby

IS TAICHI’S GROUP GOING TO THE HUMAN WORLD? I KNOW SOME VAGUE SPOILERS BUT IDK WHAT’S GOING ON

OH SHIT I WAS RIGHT

NEXT EPISODE! I’ve seen Eyesmon because the Digimon Twitter shared art of him so like I know what to expect here kinda sorta

Ah, they’re evoking episode 21, just a little bit with the cinematography. I love it

The power-outtag is done? Hmmmmmm.... Either the kids travelled in time, this isn’t the real human world (an illusion) or... IDK

“Avocado Cheeseburger” Mimi, thanks

No one is reacting to the Digimon..? Really? That’s suspicious... Or just unfortunate writing. I hope it’s not the latter

OKAY IT’S INTENTIONAL, GOOD

This episode has great atmosphere, this is spoopy and I love it

The kids died and they’re now stuck in limbo, how scawy

I joke but seriously I could so easily imagine an indie horror game that is literally just this episode but with that “you were dead and stuck in limbo” twist

This shit is creepy oh god I love it

HIKARI!! BABY! MIIKO!! THEY HAVE THEIR KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!! Also yay Mama Yagami BUT THE KITTY!!!!!!

EYESMON! What a delightfully creepy bastard, bless

GARUDAMON!! TEAM YAMATO GOT HERE?! YAY

LET’S GO, SIX VS ONE CREEPY BASTARD!

Ohhh this is giving me so much serotonin, this speaks to my inner child so wonderfully, god, thanks Toei

Whaaaaat’s thaaaa- OH IT’S OROCHIMON! :O

Good episode again, v fun! IDK what else to say except thank you Toei for the fanservice and for making a creepy episode!

Next episode preview!

Oh yeah it’s Orochimon! That’s gonna be fun!

I enjoyed these episodes a lot! Here’s to hoping I’ll have the time to watch the next episodes right when they become available to me because with the “Everyone gets Perfect Levels” arc coming to a close I’d love to see where Psi is going next

#(I mean I'd probably would've had the time to watch these episodes if I wasn't so hell-bent on writing my live-reactions down) #Psi reaction

[ladyknight33]

So in reality this is the second time I made Mei’s Winter Warmer Five-Spice Hot Cocoa.The first time I followed the recipe and wasn’t impressed. I gave it another go because I’m used to super sweet American hot chocolate or spicy Mexican hot cocoa. 

Again I didn’t measure anything this time around. Played with the amount of sugar and amount of five-spice until I liked the taste. Ultimately the perfect balance for me was about (single serving) 1/4 cup cocoa, 3 tablespoons brown sugar, and closer to 1 tablespoons of Five-spice. I probably shouldn’t trust my tastebuds since this is the case.

And that made it delightfully different than store bought hot chocolate. Being able to taste the five-spice is important. It is spicy, earthy, unique in flavors. Adds to the comforting warmth of hot chocolate. 

For a dairy free option, be sure to use a nut milk with higher fat content that is thicker/creamier than standard almond milk. Coconut works well. I used a pea protein base milk. Anything that allows the cocoa to coat a spoon once mixed. I’ve made my own whipped topping in the past, and it is fun making it taste just how I like. But I was lazy on that cold rainy wintery night, so I got coconut whipped cream from a can. 

Both the temperature and flavors warm you up for a thoroughly enjoyable mix of sweet and spice.

#overwatch #overwatch cookbook #recipe #recipe review #mei #mei ling zhou #winter warmer five spice hot cocoa #hot cocoa #hot chocolate #Chinese five spice #photo #cookbook review

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: Re:ZERO Creator Tappei Nagatsuki Was Inspired by Jurassic Park for Subaru’s Greatest Death Scene

    Spoilers for Re:ZERO Season 2, Episode 33 "The Value of Life" below

  I think I can speak for all of us when I say we were flabbergasted watching the 33rd episode of Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- and seeing Subaru perish in such a gruesome way by such cute critters. While the series up until that point has had its fair share of deaths, this one — that I’m being a little coy with for spoiler’s sake — is up there as one of the … greatest? Most memorable? Either way, the inspiration behind the scene shows the deep pop-culture prowess of light novel author Tappei Nagatsuki and probably a little too deep a look into his psyche.

    What could be so bad about these little creatures?

  I’ve written before that Re:Zero kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu light novel author Tappel Nagatsuki tweets alongside the Japanese broadcast of the show, giving us little sneak peeks of behind-the-scenes information and expanded context for some scenes, like how he wrote the third arc for two lines from Subaru.

  To set the scene for this episode, after Subaru had been trying time after time to save Rem (again) while trying to save everyone else (again) he was thrown forward to a wintery landscape — where nothing good ever happens in winter in the Re:ZERO universe. See Memory Snow for more context there. That’s where Subaru meets the cutest creatures in the series thus far, even Nagatsuki commented “how cute” they were!

  The scene in question:

  The Pythonesque scene took everyone by surprise. We were hoping for something good to happen to our protagonist and just when the audience thought Nagatsuki couldn’t torture Subaru anymore, here came the horned bunnies to gobble our hero up. Or as Nagatsuki himself proudly tweeted, “‘Devoured by Small Creatures’, achievement unlocked!”  

  Victory~

  But keep calm, according to the light novel author himself, “don't worry there aren't many worse deaths in Re:ZERO than this one!” Sure Nagatsuki, sure, and nothing shady is going on with Roswaal, we get it.

  While the scene was gruesome and unexpected, it came from a place deeply rooted in cinema pop-culture, and no, it was wasn’t inspired by Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Nagatsuki was inspired by a scene in The Lost World: Jurassic Park where the character of Dieter Stark splits from the rest of the group and goes off to relieve himself, where he’s eaten by a pack of small Compsognathus or ‘Compies’ for short. 

    ちなみに俺が小さい生き物に喰われるのがめっちゃ怖いと思ってる原風景は、ジュラシックパークで立ちションするために味方から離れて、そのまま小さいラプトルみたいなのに追われて川上に向かい、あとで血だけ川下に流れてくるおじさんだ！ あのおじさんがいなかったら今回のシーンはなかったぜ！

— 鼠色猫／長月達平 (@nezumiironyanko) August 26, 2020

    Translation of the above tweet:

  "By the way, the inspiration behind this scene, which instilled a fear in me being eaten by small creatures, is from a scene in Jurassic Park where a guy leaves his allies, heads upstream after being chased, and pees standing up. Only to be attacked by what looks like little raptors, and later has his blood flow downstream!

  If it wasn't for that guy, we wouldn't have this scene!"

  Nagatsuki explains in the above tweet that the scene from Jurrasic Park “instilled a fear in [him] being eaten by small creatures.” While I doubt anyone would actively want to be eaten by small creatures, Nagatsuki’s coping mechanism seems to be torturing poor Subaru, which in all honesty, does make for some great anime. “If it wasn't for that guy, we wouldn't have this scene,” and we're all thankful for Stark's sacrifice and Steven Spielberg's cinematography.

    Unlike the Compies though, Subaru should have seen the horned mabeasts coming. Nagatsuki said the main character was “a tad careless,” explaining that one “shouldn't go near a creature with horns on its forehead in this world.” Subaru had already gone toe to toe with horned creatures before (not to mention what Rem turns into when her horn appears), so he should know better than to try and pat a small horned rabbit, no matter how cute it is.

  In the end, thanks to Subaru’s Return by Death, the delightfully devilish bunnies only traumatized Subaru — and the audience — for a short while until he was once again flung back to the trial and into the hands of a witch, ready to try and free the Sanctuary (again). 

  Though one has to wonder, why were there mabeasts in the Sanctuary, and what happened in that timeline for them to be there …

    We’ll just have to keep watching Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- to find out!

      Daryl Harding is a Japan Correspondent for Crunchyroll News. He also runs a YouTube channel about Japan stuff called TheDoctorDazza, tweets at @DoctorDazza, and posts photos of his travels on Instagram. 

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[harold-smith-in-training]

Introducing: Cleistocactus Winteri

Y’all ever just... acquire another plant?

Cleistocactus winteri, the “tarantula cactus.” When mature, they become one of the most delightfully grotesque and adorable hanging plants I can think of. This pot contains four cuttings, with a lot of new growth. I’ve been fixated on this guy since I noticed it hanging at the more bougie curated plant shop near my apartment in May. It was sold to me at a discount.

It will go on a shelf above the cat litter boxes up against the west window in my living room, where it gets bright indirect light with an inch or so of direct light in the afternoon.

After seeing how gold even the young cleistocactus winteri is, I believe the other plant I have might be cleistocactus colademononis, the “monkey tail cactus.” Similar growth habit to the winteri, but colademonosis grows long white hairs at maturity. If anyone can ID otherwise, let me know!

It comes from a place of privilege that I can say I’m filling the apocalyptic terror depression void with so many plants. This blog is a distasteful showcase of my accumulation of material possessions, especially at a time where many are hurting more than usual. The fact that I did not lose my job has allowed me to both donate and accumulate without much changing my standard of living.

#cleistocactus winteri #tarantula cactus #golden rattail cactus #plant blog #houseplants #meet the crew

[afantasticbeastwriter]

Amelia Pt. 2 || Newt Scamander x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 3,441 Prompt: “Maybe if you like can you write something where they come back to london and surprise newts family or something? And maybe some cute Dad!newt?” A/N: Thank you kind anon for this request! This is a sequel to Amelia, which I unfortunately cannot link here thanks to Tumblr being fussy, but can be found on my masterlist. Once again, I think I fell in love with this fic a bit. I really do hope you enjoy how it turned out. I put a lot into it xx Please let me know what you all think, and do not hesitate to give me some more requests! Enjoy!

The wind blew steadily in the port.

It was a signature cloudy London day, with near freezing temperatures and a biting chill. The papers warned of near-record temperatures for the wintery night ahead. Because of this, Newt Scamander had had to bundle himself a bit more than usual upon stepping outside. Where his traditional vest and trousers normally did the trick, he had to supplement a knitted sweater and his faded yellow and grey scarf for warmth. On any other day, he would have moved his plans to another day in order to better enjoy the warmth of a fire. This day, however, was not just any other day.

It was the day Newt waited for with bated breath for months and even years on end. You, the love of his life and mother of his child, were en route to bring yourself and your lovely daughter Amelia home. In preparation for your return, he thoroughly redid his flat. An entire room was conjured and decorated for Amelia, and his own was extended and given a much more roomy King-sized bed for good measure. Where his old kitchen held just enough room to cook for one, his new one easily could deliver meals for at least three. In addition to his home, he took precautions to make his creature habitat more secure. One no longer could enter it by simply walking in. An enchanted gate now sat at its entrance, held shut with a spell only he could counter. Of all these enchantments and conjurings, one thing though sat completely unprepared for your return: Newt. His hands shook.

Your return meant a lot for Newt. Not only would he get back the relationship he so craved with you, but he also would receive the chance to be a father to his daughter. He never believed he would get such a chance. Even just having you back would have been enough. Amelia was a cherry on top of that victory, and everything in him yearned to be a good father to her. He wanted to make up for lost time. He wanted to be the best father and boyfriend, as well as possible husband, that he could be. Giving you a proper welcome at the port was only the beginning of that.

As the boat’s platform stretched out onto British soil, his head swam. Your shiny black boots were the first to click against the wood bridge, and they did so commandingly, as if they knew you belonged there and nowhere else. Though the wind threatened to messy up your wavy locks, you met their attempts with a huff and a huddling into your scarf. Nothing was going to stand in your way of looking absolutely perfect for this reunion.

As you reached the end of the platform, you called behind yourself to Amelia. Being so young, she was much more apprehensive to leave the ship. Her eyes scanned you skeptically, and though Newt was too far away to hear her words clearly, he could tell she was protesting just why she must do so alone. Her fuzzy baby blue mittens folded into her matching coat as her face rested in a pout. Ever the spitfire, she was. With an eye roll that made Newt chuckle, you walked back and brought Amelia into your arms. The little girl still pouted as you took large, overly exaggerated steps down the platform in an attempt to make her smile. Only when you leaped onto British soil with a whooosh did she finally let one beautiful one slip.

My perfect little family, Newt thought.

As soon as you exited the bridge, you sat Amelia down. Newt caught himself tapping his foot as he watched her immediately tug at your coat to hurry, sharing her anticipation and excitement. He wanted to get going just as much as she did. He had spent seven years waiting, after all. It was about time.

The time to meet finally came after a brief run in with customs. Newt waited, slightly slouched with his case at his side, as you scanned the crowd. He was almost convinced the wide-eyed and energetic Amelia would be the one to find you when suddenly, you came to a halt.

It was as if time stopped.

Gorgeous {E/C} eyes stared back at Newt. They held all the light in his world and more within them, including the spark which existed back when he first met you. He remembered those eyes like one would fondly remember Christmas morning. He saw them fondly. Tenderly. Feeling himself straighten up, Newt began walking toward you. You began walking toward him. Footsteps grew into large strides until suddenly, all at once, you collided in a passionate embrace. Though he was not fond of hugs, Newt delightfully welcomed you into his arms and grasped you tight. It was almost if holding you any lesser would make you and the moment disappear. Your gentle sobs shook your smaller frame against his chest.

“Welcome home.”

His hushed tone could not disguise the emotion within. As he clutched your head to his chest, you found yourself laughing through sobs and shutting your eyes at the mere feeling it brought to you. Everything became more real when hearing him speak that way. A few months ago, you never believed Amelia would get to grow up with both her mother and father. Yet there you stood, cradled in her father’s arms, mere miles away from your new forever home and future. It was surreal. It felt surreal. All you could think to do was cry.

“I-I’ve missed you so much,” you struggled to say through tears. “Is this a dream?”

Shaking his head, Newt pressed a kiss to the top of your head delicately. If you squeezed your eyes shut any tighter, you may have thought it never to have happened at all. “It’s all real, my love.”

Newt released you from his arms. In doing so, he was reminded of the third member of their new family’s presence. She sat as quiet as a mouse behind you both, her mittens clutched around her tiny briefcase. Her eyes looked innocently up at the scene, not fully understanding but still appreciating the happiness on both of their faces. She was so well behaved. It astonished Newt to know he helped create such an angelic child.

Kneeling, he beckoned her to approach him. He sensed hesitation as she inched forward and remained reluctant to meet his gaze. She was so much like her father in that way. Energetic in her element, but shy when told to give affection or attention to that which she was not fully educated on. A true Scamander daughter. He offered a shy smile of his own to empathize with her. She accepted it by meeting him all the way.

“Hello, my darling.”

“Hi Papa,” she replied. Her small voice was like music to Newt’s ears.  

“H-How are you? Was your trip well?”

“I’m good, but I’m tired of the boat. Are we going home now?”

Nodding, Newt took her case full of her items and replaced it with his hands. He gave them a squeeze, drawing a small smile to her lips. “Yes. All of us.”

Newt made sure to make good on that promise. It was the first one he ever made as a father that did not involve his creatures, after all. He was bound to fulfill it. Taking both her and your hand in his, he brought his new family out of the harbor and on their way home. A little more traveling later, and he found himself leading them right up to the steps of his flat.

“Are we ready to enter?”

Amelia looked to you before nodding wildly. You chuckled and brought her into your arms, giving her eskimo kisses. “Not sure she can contain her excitement much longer, Newt.”

“Good,” he smiled. Opening the door, he flicked on the light. He intended to bring in his new family and show them the house. He had conjured up a new room all for Amelia and redid his own for you, and he wanted nothing more than to surprise them with the hard work he accomplished. However, the surprise he did receive as he walked inside made his blood run cold.

“Welcome home!”

Champagne rested in their hands. Confetti fell like rain, disappearing before hitting the floor but easily getting into your and Amelia’s hair. Newt’s family stood, unannounced, in the middle of his living room like a slice from Newt’s nightmares. Newt loved his family. He really did. However, he was planning a gentle introduction. He was not planning this elaborate, in-your-face display, especially not from his parents. Theseus he could see, but not his parents. As Newt turned to apologize, little Amelia squealed and began to dance in the confetti.

“Pretty!”

“Theseus,” Newt sternly glared at his older brother, making his way over to Amelia to hold her from dancing, “what is going on?”

“Theseus told us you were bringing {Y/N} home today,” his father, Rodger, said in his oh-so-formal voice. The tone alone made Newt want to hide. He felt so  “We wanted to make sure you were properly welcomed.”

“I supplied the confetti, of course,” Theseus chimed in. Newt opened his mouth to speak, only to be halted by seeing his mother Willow curiously watching Amelia. Amelia’s sparkling {E/C} eyes were still trained up at the confetti, and her smile shone unyielding. She was expressing the same wondrous gaze he held whenever he saw his creatures, and being Newt’s mother, she could spot such a resemblance without any trouble at all. She cocked her head to the side.

“Newt, is that…”

“Darling, why don’t you go check out your new room? We will join you soon.” Newt ushered her away and over to her room, opening the door for her. She looked rather against leaving the confetti, but her face absolutely lit up as soon as she saw her room and the beautiful parrot mural painted on the wall opposite her bed. Once he was satisfied she was safe and occupied, he shut the door behind himself and turned to face his family. You still stood by the doorway, choosing to keep quiet in this tense moment. It was for the best, Newt decided.

“I was going to tell you when they settled in.”

“You had a child out of wedlock?”

“Father, I-”

“How could you?”

“I did not know-”

“Wait, wait,” Theseus interjected, waving his arms and, finally, halting the confetti. He walked in between their father and Newt and held a hand up to both, keeping them apart. Looking to Newt, Theseus mirrored their mother’s confusion. “I didn’t know you had a child with her. Is that why you were so desperate to go to America? For her?”

“No,” Newt firmly confirmed, “no, I did not know. Not until I found her. She was a complete and total surprise, you must believe me.”

Theseus shook his head. “Merlin’s beard. And {Y/N}?”

“I thought I made a drunken mistake,” you mumbled. Rodger’s eyes widened.

“During prohibition?”

“I-”

“Do not yell at the mother of my child.”

Rodger staggered back hearing such forward, protective language. From Theseus he expected it, but Newt was his less commanding son. He rarely spoke up in disagreements. He often apologized if he did. This was unheard of.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” Newt promptly replied. He looked as if he was going to shake out of his boots or retreat fully into his coat, but his voice remained firm in opposition to his father. Rodger sat back, stunned. Stepping forward, Willow placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Dear, what’s her name?”

Looking over to you, Newt cleared his throat. “Amelia.”

“Amelia Lucinda,” you added, quickly retreating back into yourself.

“Amelia Lucinda,” she repeated. A soft smile came to her lips. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. How did you think of that?”

You exchanged another look with Newt. As much as this sudden kindness from his mother confused you, you did not mind it. You craved it, actually. It settled far nicer in your stomach than Newt’s father’s chiding remarks.

“It’s the name of an ancestor of mine,” you told her. Willow grinned and beckoned you over. The way Newt looked at you with immense apprehension, you swore it was going to be a trap. But, as you approached her and found her bringing your hands into hers, something told you it was alright.

“While I’m not keen on knowing she was out of wedlock,” she said, “she is a gift nevertheless. I see no reason to be at each other’s throats about it.”

“Oh?” Newt’s father frowned, crossing his arms at his chest. Newt began chewing at his lip. “What happens if she grows up nonmagical? Then what? Newt could end up right back in Azkaban if she so much as hints to our existence to muggle schoolmates. We all could. She’s a liability.”

“She’s your granddaughter,” Willow fired back, her tongue sharp, “and her father is perfectly capable of teaching her to protect our world.”

“I am, too.” Stepping forward, you tried your best to connect with Rodger’s fiery gaze. If he were not so utterly overwhelmed, Newt would probably have found your courage rather attractive. Instead, he sat back worried and vaguely impressed. “I-I know I’m only a muggle, as you called it, but I kept his secret for a year. Knowing my daughter, I’m sure she can do the same. She’s quite intelligent for her age, you know. And she has all of your son’s best qualities, which I think makes her far from a liability. Take some time to get to know her, sir, and you might find she’s more capable than you think.”

The room fell silent. With a sharp nod, you moved past Rodger, Willow, and Newt and walked right into Amelia’s room. As the door shut swiftly behind you, Newt looked to his family. Rodger continued to sit stunned. Willow and Theseus looked a mixture of embarrassed, apologetic, and awed at your strength. Newt fidgeted with the inside of his coat, struggling with finding his words.

“A-All I ask for is kindness.” He briefly looked to his father. “We can discuss more serious matters in private…but now is not the time. If you would excuse me, I would much rather like to be getting to know my daughter, so.”

Trailing off, Newt turned the knob to Amelia’s room and entered in. He rather loved what he did with her room. Macaws scattered the walls, weaving between deep forest green vines and brush. The ceiling was dusted in a fluffy grey, enchanted to mimic the sky outside as time passed. Her bed, which she happily rested on as you brushed through her hair with your hand, consisted of zebra patterned sheets. It was any child’s dream room. For Amelia, it was exactly what she wanted. She perked up seeing Newt enter the room. You all but went ignored.

“Papa, I love my room.”

Despite the sour taste his previous conversation left in his mouth, something about Amelia’s optimistic nature made Newt smile. He moved to her bedside and knelt down.

“Wonderful,” he said softly. He reached to also run his hand through her hair, earning a giggle from Amelia. She loved the extra attention, and it showed. “Want to know something?”

“Yeah!”

“Sometimes, when you’re being a very good girl,” he warned, “the parrots come alive. Would you like to see that?”

It was hardly a question. Bolting up in bed, Amelia clapped her hands and beamed his way. “Show me! Show me!”

Newt smiled. Standing up, he whipped out his wand and gave it a quick flourish. Within moments, the parrots surrounding the room began to flap their wings and, one by one, fly off the wall. Amelia’s joyful squeals filled the room as she bounced up and down, watching the birds take flight around her.  

You also watched them in awe. Seven years away from magic made you forget how beautiful it could be. No sight was more beautiful than your daughter experiencing it for the first time. Newt thought the same as he watched. It warmed his heart to know he helped to contribute to her happiness and wonder.

As the birds swirled around the room, he approached Amelia. Picking her up, he sat her on his hip.

“Watch this,” he spoke with a smirk.

He extended his arm outward and held it, being sure to hold still. It took a minute, but soon one of the Macaws took perch on him. Amelia opened her mouth to squeal, but Newt cautioned her to remain calm. She obediently relaxed, though her eyes never left the extraordinary bird.

“Do you want to pet him?”

Amelia nodded. “Yes, Papa.”

“Alright,” he said, voice hushed, “let’s do it then. Lightly brush your hand along its feathers on the back. Yes, that’s good, right there where its feathers attach. Good girl.”

He watched with pride as Amelia did just as instructed. Her touch was feather-light as she admired the Macaw. It leaned into the touch, squawking slightly, but she did not startle. She took its noises with confidence and respect for the rules. With a whole fleet of more dangerous and particular magical creatures waiting in his case and home, it pleased Newt to see her respectful behavior so early on. She really was his child.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.”

Slightly startled, Newt met Theseus’ gaze. He was leaning on the doorframe, somehow entering without him knowing or hearing. The beautiful Macaw ruffled its feathers at Newt’s tension, but to his and Theseus’ wonder, Amelia shushed it and was able to calm him back down. Over where you sat on the bed, you covered your mouth to stifle a gasp.

“Aren’t you just a regular-ol’ animal tamer?” Theseus asked Amelia, a bright smile on his face. He walked over to where Newt stood holding her and admired the bird she continued to pet. Curious, he asked her if he could have a try. Amelia politely gave him permission and showed him how to do it, exactly as her father instructed, even using his same cadence. Newt’s heart swelled with pride. Over on the bed, you brought your hand to your lips.

“Your papa, my brother, did something like this for me when I was younger,” he told her, transferring the Macaw from Newt’s arm to his, “only it was with dogs. Do you like dogs, dear?”

Amelia nodded. “Their fur is really soft.”

Both Theseus and Newt grinned. “Yes it is. He let me play with a bunch of fluffy dogs one year. I came home from work really sad, so he brought them out of a book I was reading. I got to spend the rest of the day playing with them. Isn’t that kind?”

“Very,” she replied. Turning to Newt, she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest, hugging him tight. Newt was caught a bit off guard by the sudden embrace, and he loathed the smirk he received from his brother who knew from experience how hard hugging was for him. However, Newt did his best to push past his discomfort and return the hug. As he did, she sighed into him, content.

“I love you, Papa.”

Within seconds, Newt felt himself tear up. His first I love you. He had been dreaming of hearing those words from her ever since he first realized she was his. They made everything – the fighting, the disappointment and judgement from his father, the potential danger of exposure she brought along with her – worth it. They made him truly feel like a father, and one capable of providing a good life to his daughter at your side, at that. They even made seeing his parents watching the scene from just outside the door less stressful. Looking to the little girl in his arms, Newt rubbed her back and decided to squeeze her tight.

“I love you too, Amelia. So much.”

Their future remained uncertain, but Newt was sure of one thing as he placed a kiss to her cheek. No matter what came their way or stood to say their bond was wrong, nothing would ever sever the love they now shared reunited. This family was for life, and he would do anything for it to survive and thrive.

For the first time in seven years, against all the odds, Newt felt truly, utterly happy.

And he had you and Amelia to thank for it.

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