#I should have just stuck with my cayenne

[aesthetic-gamersnail]

General Thoughts and Feelings about Trolls Band Together (part 1)

So, I don't know if this counts as a review, this is going to be more my thoughts on the movie (what I liked, my nitpicks, my head canons and what I would like to see in the future). This will not be coherent, it is really going be just chaotic thoughts. But be warned, because spoilers will be mentioned here. Also, the quotes might not be 100 percent accurate since I am quoting them from my memory, so be warned about that too. Have fun:

I really liked the portrayal of Poppy's and Branch's relationship and their development, because they feel like an actual couple and they feel like super natural and comfortable with it? Like there is no awkwardness and no jealousy and they are confidently saying like 'yeah, this is my girlfriend/boyfriend', I loved to see it

Interesting to see that Branch is still struggling with expressing his feelings and emotions, but that he is working on it, and you can see genuine development from the previous two movies. He still tries to push people away when overwhelmed with emotions and he deals with abandonment issues, shown especially well in the scene when Poppy goes after him after the fight with his brothers and says that she will come with him but he says that what is the point, she is going to leave anyway like everyone else did. And Poppy tries to calm him down, which actually works and it shows that he is bettering himself in that and doesn't let himself be controlled by his frustration and anger anymore. Branch generally seems to feel more comfortable in his skin and seems to be happier, which is very nice to see. Nice development here

Poppy tries to be more understanding of Branch's emotions and feelings and she supports him throughout the whole movie, even after the fight she doesn't push him to go back to his brothers but instead comes with him. I really liked it and it was really sweet

'You are not a Branch anymore, you are a TRUNK. Still could lift you though.'

John scoops Branch up when he sees him the first time again and Branch reacts as well as you can imagine - like a cat stuck on a tree

Love how John arrives and scoops Branch up, Poppy is immediately like 'Get your hands off my boyfriend!'

'When I said before you should tell me about things, maybe you should have told me you have a BROTHER?' 'Former brother.' 'THAT IS NOT HOW DNA WORKS!'

'Sorry, he gets a little hangry if he didn't have breakfast.' 'I DID have breakfast. It was an avocado toast with two poached eggs and a little bit cayenne pepper for the kick and it was DELIGHTFUL!'

Bruce bolting towards Branch and hugging him was super cute

Bruce and his wife are soooo adorable, and he is such a dad and he cares so much about them, it's augh (also Branch smiled so happily when Bruce mentioned he was a dad, he was happy for his bro)

John in the movie was being really inconsiderate of his brother's feelings and thoughts and was just pushing them towards perfection and his ideals. He redeemed himself of course at the end, but he didn't apologize at all which I think was a pity (actually no one of the brother's apologized, except Clay at the end, which is actually really sad because I think Branch deserved an honest apology and EXPLANATION, but I will bounce back to Branch and his brothers in a bit)

Clay and Bruce being really casual with each other was nice to see, but also Clay being super happy to see Branch and smushing his face

Clay really speaks to me as a character because he shows that just because other people think you're fun doesn't mean you can't be serious, love that for him

Clay and Viva do not seem to be in a relationship which I think is actually quite nice to see two people co running a village who are platonic buddies, even though who knows what the future holds. Maybe they will become a couple (or are one) which would be cute too

The portrayal of Viva's trauma was super nice to see, it felt really genuine and I liked it a lot (like how she did not want to talk about it and made impulsive decisions based on her trauma and fear)

Poppy and Viva seem to have a fun dynamic going on, would love to see more of that in the future (especially also with Bridget, since she and Poppy are super close)

Peppy did not mention for 20 Years to his daughter that she had a sister and she might be dead? WHAT?

Viva and Branch have a interesting dynamic because they seem pretty alike, and I like how Branch tries to argue with her because he has been through the same thing

Branch was sometimes not wearing pants in the bunker, sooo, yeah. That's a fun fact from the movie

Bridget was just being a girlboss thoughout the movie

Gristle and Bridget on the verge of death being like 'Let's make out :)' (Gristle and Bridget, even though having short cameos, were very fun and cute when they were on screen)

Floyd saying to Veneer that just because someone is your family doesn't mean they can treat you like crap is such a reflection on his relationship with his brothers, omg

Floyd taught Crimp how to play the ukulele, awww

Continuation in part 2

[sam-and-dean-codependency]

Fever

Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Tags/Warnings: Munchausen's by proxy, Sickfic, Sick Sam Winchester, Hex bags, Magic Sickness

Summary: Sam has been sick for weeks and he can't figure out why. Good thing Dean is there to take care of him.

Written for @whumptober Day 2: Thermometer

--------

Sam groaned and leaned over his sick bucket for another round of dry heaving.

He’d been sick for what felt like ages. It started with the flu, but once he started feeling better from that he caught some kind of stomach bug. Then he got something with a high fever. And now, he was stuck with whatever this was. He’d think it was another stomach bug except he hadn’t eaten anything but soup and crackers since this all started. It was like his immune system just went on vacation a few months ago.

He wished he knew what was wrong. He wanted to get better. He wanted to be able to leave his bed for more than a day and get back to work. Dean would never say it, but Sam knew he must be tired of taking care of him all the time. He must be just aching to get out and hunt or even just go to a bar for the night. Instead, he was stuck taking care of his sick little brother.

He groaned and hacked up more bile into the bucket.

“Throwin’ up again, Sammy?” Sam heard Dean pad into the room and slumped in relief. Dean’s cool hand felt his forehead and he pushed Sam back onto the bed. “Fever’s still going too. Any other symptoms I should know about?”

Sam thought then shook his head. “My throat isn’t sore anymore. That’s a plus.”

Dean hummed and stuck a thermometer in his mouth. “Still over a hundred. I wonder why it’s not going down….”

Sam felt another wave of nausea come up and tried to cough it down. “Maybe I’m not normal sick,” he muttered. “Maybe I got hit with a curse or somethin’....”

“Nope,” Dean said. “I already checked that. Asked Rowena too. Not even she found anything magicky about all this.”

“You did? When?”

“A few days ago. You were a little out of it; the fever was really high that day….”

Sam didn’t remember Rowena coming by. Of course, he wasn’t sure he remembered much of anything from that day. Except for throwing up maybe. “And she didn’t find anything weird?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. No curses, no hex bags, no lingering spells, no after effects of anything…. You just got a weird sickness.”

Sam groaned. “So, no easy cure. Just… sweat it out.”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. But, hey, you’re in good hands.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll take care of you until you’re all better. That’s my job, right?” He pet Sam’s shoulder. “I got you, little big man.”

Sam groaned and leaned over his sick bucket again. Dean rubbed his back in a soothing pattern until he’d emptied his guts. Again. How did he even have this much in him to throw up?

—--

Once Sam was sleeping with a cold compress and some “fever reducing syrup”, Dean quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked a bit. He smirked at the hex bag he’d collected from Sam’s room and used his lighter to burn it. No more nausea for Sammy. At least for now. Poor kid needed a break.

He went back to the kitchen to check on Sam’s next meal. Brown rice with a generous helping of cayenne. He could use a hex bag to keep the fever going if he really wanted but he liked the natural way of doing things. If Sam was still out of it later, he’d see about tricking Sam into a warm bath too.

Was it wrong of him to keep Sam sick like this for weeks? Sure, maybe. But so what? They’d saved the world so many times, they were probably still guaranteed a ticket upstairs no matter how much they sinned.

And maybe Dean wanted a little reward for all his hard work. Maybe Dean wanted to take a break from all the blood and gore and death and just have a little quality time with his brother. Sam would never rest or take a “we day” vacation for more than a few days- unless one of them was sick.

And Sam was just so damn soft when he was sick. Always calling out for Dean, all needy and clingy. Just like when he was little. Despite all the growing up he’s done since then, that was one habit he never managed to kick. Well, along with the bitch faces but those didn’t pop up when he was sick.

He whistled and declined yet another call from a hunter. He did feel a little bad about leaving other hunters high and dry. Maybe he’d give Sam a little break from the illness next week, just enough to get up and do some research- under Dean’s supervision, of course.

[goron-king-darunia]

Things I cooked in 2024

Mostly to empty my camera. Working backwards.

Cooked December 29th and eaten December 30th. Spicy Tuna Onigiri. First time ever making it. The rice was a bit under seasoned and the nori kind of stuck and kind of didn't? But the filling was good and they made for a good lunch.

Cooked December 23rd and eaten from the 25th to today. Old fashioned fudge. Family recipe. Dad thinks it "wasn't salty enough or sweet enough." which honestly I think is the same problem. Recipe didn't call for it but should have added some salt. I thought it was great though and I'm sad I don't have more. Learned the hard way that you definitely need to do the sugarwork with a big enough pot, because the sugar and the other ingredients in the first step boiled over exactly as it got to the correct temperature and because sugar is basically lava I had to carefully remove the pot from the burner and by the time it was safe for me to handle the pot, the mixture cooled just a little too much so the final fudge had some streaks of unmelted chocolate. So for next time I boil the sugar mixture in the second biggest pot and then add it to the big pot immediately when it comes to temp. The biggest issues with the recipe are: chopping chocolate in the winter because that stuff's friggin' rock solid and doesn't want to cut. Boiling the sugar mixture, as stated above, getting all the marshmallow creme out of the tin. Even with a rubber spatula, that stuff just wants to stay in the jar. Doing it solo for the first time, I can understand why mom was always agitated when making the recipe in previous years, even with my help. Very finicky recipe, needs 2 big pots to do it correctly so the sugar doesn't crystalize and make a gritty fudge, needs a candy thermometer because you have to get the sugar mixture to the correct temp so that it both sets properly and also melts all the chocolate without removing the temper, splitting, seizing, or any number of bad texture things that happen with chocolate because chocolate is alchemy and it's FUSSY alchemy. Loved every bite, though. Definitely making it again next year.

Corn chowder cooked on December 18th. Dad was preparing pork with green peppers in the other pot, but I had a hankering for corn chowder all week so I made a pot to go with it. One of my favorite recipes. Unfortunately, because I cook to taste, the recipe is inconsistent but it's pretty easy to replicate. Onion, carrot, and celery cooked in butter or, preferably, bacon grease. Add a bit of flour to make a roux. Pasty thick kind, not the saucy kind, because soup. Needs to be able to hold liquid so make it thick. Chicken broth and milk. Add potato and other veggies to taste. Mostly I use bell pepper but you can add tomato and zucchini or whatever other veggies you like. Boil until potatoes are tender. Add water if the emulsion breaks. The flour in the roux and the starch in the potatoes usually hold everything together, but I've been making soups for a while so I have a general understanding of how to get an emulsion to work, so... Anyway, when the potatoes are tender, add in frozen corn. (I hate the taste of canned veggies. Canned corn is so nasty to me.) If you have a protein like leftover cooked chicken or thawed shrimp, you can add that in. If you made it with bacon grease, topping it with crispy bacon is good too. Once you take it off the heat, you can add in some jack cheese too. Salt, pepper, and cayenne are my favorite seasonings. Keep it simple. Honestly, carrot, onion, celery, some sort of fat, some sort of starch, any stock/broth/bouillon and milk are, like, my bog standard ingredients for all my creamy soup/chowder bases. Highly recommend learning to make chowders if you want to start cooking for yourself to make a rich, flavorful soup from basically any ingredients you have on hand.

Hot cocoa, November 7th. The basic Swiss Miss Milk Chocolate Hot Cocoa with whipped cream, marshmallows, and 2 chocolate wafer biscuits. The end of the year was pretty dogshit for me, but unwinding with Youtube and hot cocoa at the end of the day helped a lot.

October 30th. Fried egg on toast. Simple but effective.

No photos until June 30th.

Got parsnips for the first time after seeing someone cook all the recipes in Stardew Valley and saying roast parsnips were the best thing they tried. Mom and I absolutely loved them, so I made them for Thanksgiving. Simple recipe too. Chop them pale ass carrots into rounds, coat them in olive oil, complete seasoning (basically onion, garlic, cumin, coriander, parsley, oregano, black pepper, and salt) and some red pepper flakes (we use gochugaru and it honestly doesn't taste the same with other red pepper flakes.) Spread in a single layer on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake the suckers at 425 for 30 minutes. Better than potato chips. For real. They were described in the video as "tasting like Christmas." and you know what? That's correct. They do taste like that.

May 9th. Got a can of salmon on a whim because it was cheap. Turns out it was cheap because it comes with a lot of brittle pinbones in there. Like yes, the tin did warn me. But I was not expecting that many bones. Holy cow. Still, the salmon cakes I made were good. Would work just as well with canned tuna tho, and canned tuna, at least where we buy it, doesn't have bones in, so way easier prep.

April 30th. A recipe I discovered on Tumblr and has been a household staple for a while. Brock Soup. Bell pepper always seems to find its way into the recipe. 10/10 would recommend Brock soup as a household staple.

April 20th. Mushroom risotto with King Oyster Mushroom medalions. I took the extra time to be fancy and make those cross-hatching cuts so the marinade seeped in and made the mushroom bits cook up extra nice. I ate half of it by the time I realized I should take a photo.

March 31st. Eggs Benedict. Or similar. Mom and I enjoyed it a lot, regardless of the fact that I overcooked the ham a little. It's made with the instant Hollandaise sauce from Knorr, but I think I could make my own Hollandaise from scratch now that I'm pretty good with emulsions.

March 28th. Was craving Mac and Cheese in the middle of the night. So I made some. It was delicious. And now I'm craving some.

March 17th. First time making corn chowder. Roasted brussel sprouts and blackened Kielbasa to go with it. Honestly one of the better meals I've had. Mom loved it too.

February 21st. Hot and Sour soup and "bootleg" mushroom risotto. I say "bootleg" here because I remember very vividly that this came hot off the heels of making a pizza with white sauce. Dad's not a white sauce fan so we serve the sauce on top of the pizza. It's not tomato sauce because mom always hated tomato sauce, specifically the oregano bit. And we had some white sauce left over after the pizza was done, so I mixed it in with some cooked rice, extra milk, extra cheese. And honestly? Fire. 10/10 would make again.

I cooked more during 2024. I just didn't think to photograph most of it. I plan to continue cooking even more in 2025. Might make a 2023 post of all the food photos of things I made since 2023 is, I think when I first started taking cooking seriously. Until then, though, I hope you're all eating well out there in internet land. Home-cooked food really helps. 2024 started well enough and ended pretty sour, but good food and good company helped a lot.

Now I'm gonna make a snack and go the heck to sleep after. My handle on bedtime is out the window again. XD

[riflebrass]

I made some jagerschnitzel tonight.

For the Jager sauce I started by chopping up a packet of pre-peeled garlic, 3 shallots, and 6 brown mushrooms. I fried them up in a little olive oil with 3tbsp of flour and about 1tbsp of beef base. The roux kinda stuck to the bottom of the sauce pan so I scraped it with a metal spoon to get it free. After cooking the roux for 5 minutes I mixed in about 1/2 cup of sour cream and mixed again then added about 2 cups of water. Honestly I didn't measure the water. I just poured some in and stirred it while bringing to a boil so that it would thicken. I probably should have done half a cup less but the sauce came out good anyway.

For the schnitzel itself I didn't really have a recipe for the seasoning so I kinda winged it. I started with thin sliced pork chops. You're supposed to start with a kotlet and hammer it thin but my down stairs neighbor doesn't like that. I made a flour dredge with garlic salt and some herbs to flavor. Stage 2 was a simple egg wash made with an egg beaten with some milk. Stage 3 was the breading itself. I used bread crumbs seasoned with more garlic salt, some garlic powder, black pepper, and cayenne pepper. I fried it in some avocado oil just a little above medium in a skillet. After pulling them out of the oil I set them on a cookie rack on top of a pan to drain the extra oil off while I fried the rest.

For the cauliflower I took a whole head, rinsed it, made a mix of olive oil, garlic salt, basil, and thyme. I poured it over the cauliflower then roasted it in the oven at 350. After about 45 minutes of roasting I popped it on the bottom rack, uncovered it, and broiled for 15 minutes. It still came out kinda crunchy. Should have given it longer.

The mashed potatoes were just some instant mix. Use some hot water, added a little extra butter, blah blah blah nothing impressive.

With the exception of the cauliflower the rest was really good.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Accidentally falling asleep together and one washing the other’s hair for John and Robin, reading a book together for John and Emma (you know what book lol), and patching up a wound and/or caring for the other when they’re sick (possibly blood or bite withdrawals) for Sierra and Shane (why is this happening? How did this end up as anyone’s best option? Up to you!)

Thank you! 💚

Thanks for the asks! These got pretty long so I'm gonna stick them under a cut. Hope you enjoy the results!

Stakeouts are some hunters' least favorite parts of the job, but John doesn't mind them. Not as long as he has a stash of cayenne pepper beef jerky and a good partner to wait out the night with. Being put up in an air conditioned motel room is preferable to sitting in the car, and less conspicuous. Especially when they're keeping tabs on a Red Cross blood donation center across the street that's been hit by vamp thieves three times in the past four months. The enhanced alarm system the agency installed last week (which in itself is part of what they're monitoring, vampire-detecting alarms are the latest hot commodity on the market and every company wants agencies testing theirs so they can put that on their promotions) is programmed to alert his and Robin's phones if it catches anything suspicious. But in John's opinion, there's still nothing like the good old human eye. He hears halting footsteps, and smells chicory and coffee, and then a warm mug is tapped against his shoulder. Robin joins him at the window, pulling up a chair and handing John his mug before curling in over his own. His broken foot is healing, but John wishes the accident hadn't happened in the first place. Being on stakeouts is much less enjoyable when the reason for them is having a partner on medical reassignment. Because God forbid Robin take actual time off like a normal human being to heal. John chuckles at that thought, earning him a confused look from Robin. "Is the coffee bad again?" "No. Just...thinking." "Should I be worried?" "Hey!" John says, cheerfully. "I'll have you know, my thinking has gotten me out of at least as much trouble as it's gotten me into." Robin chuckles, then takes a sip from his mug, hunching over it. John leans over to turn down the chattering AC unit under the window. It feels fine to him, better than the sweltering humidity outside, but Robin has never done well with cold. Not since Arion. John scoots his own chair a little closer to Robin's, and Robin leans in to rest against his shoulder, soaking up the body heat. John puts his free arm around him and continues sipping his coffee. At some point, Robin's breaths even and slow, and John sets down his own empty mug on the windowsill so he can gently take Robin's now-cold one before it falls and wakes the kid up. When the relief team appears at four am, John waves them over to the other side of the room, then closes his eyes. The only thing waiting for him back at the agency is a pile of unfinished paperwork and Maira's death glare. he's perfectly happy to wait here till sunrise.

...

"What is this stuff?" John asks, holding up a gummed together chunk of Robin's hair. "Pine sap." Robin shrugs. "There was a kitten stuck up there." "I'm surprised it's not stuck in your hair now. Half the rest of the tree is." John shakes his head. "How do I get this out?" "Try with the oil," Robin says, nodding slightly toward the kitchen cabinet the Rowan is opening. "If that doesn't get it, you could use alcohol." "So much for that bottle of whiskey I was planning on taking home, I guess." "Not that kind of alcohol!" Robin laughs. "I have rubbing alcohol in the house." John takes the olive oil bottle a branch of the Rowan is holding out to him. "Okay, well, we'll try this first." John works some of the oil into the most matted strands of Robin's hair. It works better than he expected.  The kitten responsible for the whole mess wanders into the kitchen, rubbing itself around John's legs and complaining at being ignored. "I'm working here," John says, shaking his head, but stops long enough to sort of awkwardly scoop the little pest up with his forearm to avoid covering it in oil, and set it in Robin's lap. The kitten settles into his legs, purring and kneading energetically. John winces, but Robin seems immune to the claws digging into his thigh. John shakes his head and continues working on the sap, until Robin stops petting the cat and looks up. "Um...he's got some sap in his fur too..." "Oh no. I draw the line at cats who try to bite my hand off when I touch them. He's all yours."

...

"Your great-great-whatever uncle was ridiculous," Emma says, absentmindedly petting Mr. Prickles where he's sitting on the arm of the couch. "Did he not think about the fact that there were people on the other side of that window?" "I mean, that side of my family does tend toward impulse decisions," John says, closing his battered, first edition, signed copy of Dracula and replacing it on the side table.  "Like letting a vampire stay in your apartment while her club-which-doubles-as-apartment is getting repaired from fire damage? Which, I might add, is indirectly your fault." "It wasn't even Robin this time!" "My insurance company is already upset about the last time." Emma allows Mr. Prickles to crawl up her arm and snuggle under her chin. "At least this time most of the damage was water after the sprinklers kicked in." John flips the book open again. "Funny story, I was reading this as a kid and left it outside on the porch rail overnight, and I thought Dad was going to tan my hide for letting the dew get it. Probably would have if it was our good copy. This was just an early training manual, more or less. Already had blood on it." "So what you're saying is, water damage is inevitable with you." "Pretty much," John grins. "So, where did I leave us?" "Your great-great-great uncle at the height of human stupidity firing his gun through a window to the inside, because he saw a bat." "If you still think that is the height of human stupidity, I guess I haven't been doing my job right." "Okay. The height of human stupidity is setting a vampire's club on fire on three separate occasions. And then inviting her to live in your apartment." "Yeah, you're probably right." John flips the page over. "Okay, here it is, the second stupidest moment in human history..."

...

"This su..." "Don't say it." Shay grumbles, curled in on himself in the corner of the cabin.  "Right." Sierra tugs the oversized sweatshirt sleeves down over her hands and clenches her fists in them so she's not tempted to scratch at the pinprick marks on her wrists.  She doesn't regret it. They had a cover to maintain. Getting the information they needed to take down the people behind an underground vamp-fighting ring was worth it.  That doesn't mean they're not both paying the price.  And maybe it's only fair that if Shay has to fight through blood withdrawals out here, she has to handle the bite version. She's chilled from the blood loss, but the vampire saliva in her blood is burning like a fever. She wants more, she needs that fiery high. She's heard that vamp venom makes most people feel blissed out and docile, but however it mixed with the adrenaline from the escape made her feel kind of like the world was slowing down and moving at a different pace. It felt good.  Now, it feels anything but. Shay makes a muffled sound from the other side of the room, and Sierra turns to see him with his face buried in a pillow. "You okay?" "Wh-oo-nk?" She doesn't need to hear the words to catch his meaning from his incredulous expression. "Sorry, stupid question." That seems to be the core of whatever it is they are. Stupid questions, questionable decisions, and messy aftermath.  She takes a step toward the window and then stumbles, catching herself on the back of a chair. The dizziness is kicking in in earnest. "Need the bed?" Shay asks. Apparently whatever urge to bite possessed him is gone, because he doesn't sound like there's a pillow in his mouth. "No, you will in a minute." This might be Sierra's first time dealing with a bite, but it's far from Shay's first experience of withdrawals. They'd discussed what he'd be likely to start feeling on the way out. And if he's right about timing, he's about to get hit with the worst of it. Which is going to be a serious problem. She needs synth-blood for him. Which they don't have.  Once she kicks her own withdrawals enough to drive safely, she can get somewhere with a signal and call for extraction. Pete's got to be worried sick, and he's probably already combing the Oregon wilderness for them. But until she feels like she's not going to swerve their stolen jeep into the nearest tree, they're stuck. "Then share." Shay pats the edge of the bed. "I've been sitting on it for an hour and it hasn't fallen apart. Can't say the same for that chair." Sierra looks down. She doesn't see anything wrong with the wicker-seated furniture, but Shay's hearing is dialed in well above hers. Any minor creak in the structure, and he'll know. "I don't think that's a good idea." He wants blood, she wants a bite. That close, they'll drive each other crazy.  "Nothing about us is ever a good idea." Sometimes she hates how perceptive and honest he is. She had to get partnered with an infuriatingly emotionally intelligent vampire who can also be as dumb as a rock.  "Fine. I guess if you bite me you can drive us to someplace with a signal." "That's the spirit." Shay smiles, a weak imitation of his usual one, which tells her how much pain he's already in, but he's trying. "Not that that's what I'm going to do." She wouldn't hate it. In fact, she'd appreciate it. But it would only be putting off the inevitable.  She sits down on the edge of the bed, hands clenched white-knuckled around the edge of the mattress, her pinky finger brushing up against his.  Sooner rather than later, he's going to get worse. But for now, she can offer this much. At least they can be miserable together.

Asks list here!

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 3, day 8, I hid the guide so I could see how things are working without it, and the answer is eyes are hard. So I'm going back to focusing on just one facial feature, in this case the mouth. Next I'll do the ears, and I'll finish the face off with the eyes. Gotta save the toughest bit for last!

After I'm done with the face as a whole, then I'll do the hair and zipper pulls, then I'll tie everything down and make it clean (and probably do a lot of fixing things when I do that), then color, and maybe some super simple shading. After that? Who knows! It's still a ways off, so I've got plenty of time to figure it out XD

[bitsy83]

Sick Day (Bruno and Elena dabble)

In honor of my dear fellow Brunoholic, @prophetic-hijinks, _who is currently going through Covid, I thought she could use a little cheering up with this idea I came up with today. Speedy recovery, hon!

(A tad NSFW near the end, but nothing past a PG rating, honestly. Enjoy!)

*********

Elena HATED being sick! It was right up there with hecklers at her performances and stuck-up women who looked down on her for being a lounge singer. She first noticed she was coming down with something when she was sent home during rehearsal for warbling off key. Not only did she have a frog in her throat; she had the whole stinking pond!

It just kept going downhill from there. Her head got stuffed up, her nose ran like a faucet, every inch of her ached, and she couldn't go five minutes without coughing. She groaned as she took another tentative sip of her lemon and cayenne tea (a remedy given to her by one of the nuns who raised her). The herbal elixir seemed to clear her sinuses and soothe her throat for a few moments at a time, but the relief was always short-lived.

Pulling the blankets closer to her body, she braced herself for another coughing fit. She always found it ironic that someone running a fever could still have chills. While she had no appetite, she would've given anything for a hot bowl of chicken soup. Or a hot toddy, whatever did the trick. Unfortunately, she was so fatigued that anytime she got up to go into the kitchen, she'd get dizzy and slump back down into bed.

"That settles it," she grumbled, running her well-used tissue under her nose. "I'm dying..."

Just then, a knock was heard at the front door.

"Whaa..." slurred Elena, struggling to get herself out of bed and see who was visiting her. It was a miracle she didn't topple down the stairs with how dizzy she felt. Did Hugo stop by to check on her? Maybe it was Tito looking for a place to hide while the cops were looking for him? Or some door-to-door salesman with an overly expensive vacuum that he would insist a "lovely lady" like herself desperately needed. (If it were a salesman, she had a nose full of snot waiting to fire).

"Who is it?" she wearily croaked, doing her best to look through the peephole.

"E-Elena?" said a familiar voice on the other side. "It's me, Bruno. Did I come at a bad time?"

Elena gasped. "Bruno?!? W-what are you *cough* doing here?"

Without fully unlocking the door, Elena opened it just enough to see none other than Bruno Madrigal standing sheepishly outside the door. He wore one of his button-down green shirts decorated with hourglasses, brown slacks with sandals, and his hair pulled back in a ponytail (which she always loved). He was holding a colorful bouquet of flowers and had a brown knapsack slung across his chest.

Bruno seemed a bit surprised by Elena's question. "I, uh...weren't we supposed to meet this weekend?"

Elena knew they had made plans weeks ago to spend the weekend together in the city. Surely, it wasn't that time already? She went to look at her calendar sitting next to her coatrack. She groaned, running her hands through her hair. It was that time already! How could she have let that slip her mind?

""Bruno," she moaned as she went back to the door, still keeping it mostly locked. "Bruno, I'm so so sorry, but I can't have any visitors right now."

Fortunately, Bruno didn't look disappointed, but highly concerned. "Oh Elena! Mi Elena perfecta, what's wrong?"

"I...I...ACHOO!" was all she could utter. Elena slammed the door and block the sneeze, which immediately sent her into a coughing fit. She sank to her knees and tried to compose herself enough to speak to Bruno again. She was so exhausted she couldn't find the strength to get back to her feet.

Just then, the mail slot popped open and she bent down to see Bruno's beautiful hazel eyes looking back at her, filled with loved and compassion.

"Uh...a little under the weather?" he chuckled.

"That's putting it lightly," she sneered. "Bruno, sweetie, you should just head back home. I don't want you wasting your weekend with a plague victim."

"Actually, I think I have something that might help," said Bruno, then closed the small metal door.

Elena shook her head. "Bruno, what I need right now is a coffin because I'm pretty sure I'm on death's door." Normally, Elena wasn't always so morbid with her humor, but being sick brought the worst out in her.

The mail slot opened up again and this time, a small arepa was sticking out of it. "Here," said Bruno. "Take this! It'll do the trick."

If Elena hadn't already been breathing through her mouth, her jaw would've dropped. "Bruno, I'm really not that hungry..."

"Just eat it!" Bruno insisted. "Trust me on this, please!"

Elena was too tired to argue, so she weakly accepted the offering. She took a bite out of the doughy snack, fighting the pain in her throat as she swallowed. She was really hoping she wouldn't add vomiting to the list of symptoms.

And then, something extraordinary happened. She...started feeling better. First, her throat was no longer scratchy or sore. Her body aches faded into nothing. Not only did her nose stop running, but her sinus cavity completely cleared! She felt life seeping back into her system as each sickly symptom vanished. Before she knew it, she felt perfectly normal, as if she hadn't spent the last 24-hours planning her funeral!

But how was this possible? She looked down at the arepa Bruno had given her. It tasted fine, even if it was a bit stale. Nothing seemed different about it, yet taking one bite seemed to reinvigorate her entirely.

"Elena? Did it work?" Bruno called. "Did you eat the arepa?"

Scrambling to her feet, Elena leapt up and quickly unhooked the locks. She flung open the door to see a startled-then-pleased Bruno.

"Bruno!" she exclaimed, pointing to the food. "H-how!?!"

Bruno chuckled, letting himself in. "You can thank Julieta for that."

"But how did you know I was sick?"

"I didn't. Juli always packs me a few of those before I come to the city. She makes sure there's enough for both of us in case we need them."

Bruno then held out the exotic bouquet to Elena who accepted them graciously. "Isabela is responsible for these. She suggested I give you a cactus, but there was no way I was carrying one of those on the bus."

Elena felt her eyes water and this time, it wasn't from being sick. She threw her arms around Bruno's neck, planting to large kisses on his cheek. "If you aren't just what the doctor ordered!"

Bruno just giggled and returned the hug.

Elena then saw herself in the mirror hanging in the foyer. While she was now perfectly healthy, her hair looked like a rat's nest and her dressing gown and robe were as wrinkled as an old lady.

"Ugh, look at me," she said, fussing with herself. "I look like what the cat dragged in and the dog chewed up! If you give me about twenty minutes, I'll get cleaned up and then we can go get some lunch. My treat, of course. Be right back!"

Just as she was about to head upstairs, Bruno gently snatched her wrist, pulling her back. "Now now, hold on!" he said coyly, "I, uh, don't think you're fully healed."

"I-I'm not?"

"Oh no. There's a good chance those nasty germs are still lurking inside you somewhere." Before Elena could object, Bruno scooped her up into his arms and waggled his eyebrows at her mischievously. "I think...we need to get you right to bed."

Elena giggled and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, now that you mention it..." She gave a small fake cough, then fondled with Bruno's shirt collar. "You know, I have some ointment upstairs to rub on my chest. Helps with the coughs. Mind giving me a hand with that...doctor?"

She grinned as Bruno shuddered happily. "Absolutely." He then leaned in and kissed her lips softly.

"Don't worry, mi vida," he said softly. "I'll take care of you."

"You always do..." Elena sighed dreamily and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her to the bedroom.

[old-archivist]

Talking About Plants and Crops In Thedas, How Non-European They Actually Are...

Okay, so yeah. I want to talk about this since I’ve seeing them a lot in the tags and also just in the Dragon Age fandom in general. A few have pointed out that corn (maize) and tomatoes are from the Americas (north and south).

I would like to add that some additional plants from the Americas:

Allspice, potatoes, squash, sunflowers, peanuts, bell peppers, cayenne (Antivan Pepper in Thedas), chili pepper, peppers, passion fruit, black walnut, cocoa/chocolate, vanilla, prickly pear/cactus pear, hawthorn berry, cosmos, marigolds, white water lilies, sweet onion, winterberry, frangipanis, and several types of beans (pinto, black, bush, navy, kidney, scarlet runner, and lima beans to be specific - Thedas is not too specific about beans). Along with several varieties (not all varieties though) of the following are native to the Americas: amaranth, cotton, wisteria, wild rice, strawberry, blueberry, blackberry, cranberry, elderberry, raspberry, plum, and cherry.

While collecting the flora and fauna, as well as food, it has become so abundantly clear that not only does Thedas have a whole lot of plants from the Americas but Asia, Africa, and the Middle East as well.  (Before anyone says anything, yes, I am aware the Middle East is already considered part of Asia.)

Asian and Middle Eastern plants:

Radishes (china), rice, jasmine (Himalayas and China), water lilies, wisteria (several varieties), citron, coconut (particularly Indo-Malaya), cucumber (India), dates (Iraq), lettuce (though it was primarily cultivated in Egypt), eggplant (India), figs (Asiatic Turkey and Northern India), oranges, peach, pomegranate, spinach, turnip, bay leaves, ginger, star anise, almonds, cotton (some varieties), lotus (India and China), cardamom (south India), cinnamon, clove, licorice, mace (Indonesia), nutmeg (Indonesia), peppercorn (India), saffron, and the bradford pear.

African plants:

Coffee, acacia, melons, calla lilies, cotton (some varieties), and mustard.

I cannot stress enough how non-European centric Thedas is in regards to the plants and by extension the food they could end up creating. I really look forward to seeing it more in future installments of media as we’ve started seeing. But it has always boggled my mind when we see how European-centric the Free Marches are. I feel like they should be more of a blend of Antiva, Nevarra, Tevinter, and Southern Thedas/Orlais in the various city states instead of the staunch European foods we see. I would love to include Rivain, but we don’t really know the trade relationship Rivain has with the other countries outside of Varric’s beet plantation.

That said, I am in no way saying Thedas isn’t built off of the idea of a fantasy Europe, especially when they have fantasy French, Welsh accents, and a fantasy Italy that has the flavoring of Spanish accents and some words. But I find it so odd (I say odd but I mean boring and predictable) that they predominantly stuck with mostly US, Britain, French, and a sprinkling of Scandinavian, Italian, and German food in southern Thedas. So... I’ve branched out a lot to include other cuisines based on cultures that share similar climates, and I’m excited to share that with all of you later this week. I’m also going to make a master list of flora and fauna so it’s somewhere outside of the wiki Fauna and Flora page.

[winterhawk-olympic-bang]

Emotive Writing

Guest Poster: @thepartyresponsible​

Emotive writing is about making people Feel Things. People use this all the time to sell you stuff, but we’re out here giving emotions away for free. Here are a few tips and tricks I’ve found to make people feel the most emotions.

Word choice:

This is the most straightforward part of emotive writing. Your word choices add an extra layer of complexity to your message. You aren’t just telling readers what happened; you’re signaling to them how they should feel. Most writers do this unconsciously, but being deliberate can make it especially effective.

Here’s a non-emotive, just-the-facts sentence: The soldier lifted his weapon and turned toward the enemy.

Here’s the same sentence reworked to make you care a bit more: The exhausted soldier raised his broken shield and faced the invading army.

The actions here are fundamentally the same, but exhausted and broken invoke sympathy while invading skews negative.

The words you choose are sign posts for the reader. They indicate how to interpret the story and help your readers orient themselves and form expectations. Subtly building expectation is important because, while surprise can be effective, shock is generally numbing and confusion tends to be irritating, so word choice helps you frame things and guide your reader along.

One of the keys here is to attempt some subtlety. If every sentence about your protagonist reads like an ad campaign (effervescent, brilliant, impervious) and every sentence about your antagonist reads like a political diatribe (cruel, spineless, malicious), you’re probably overusing your sign posts. People want to know who to root for, but too much emotive language can make them feel manipulated.

Think of word choice like adding spices to food. If you put oats in boiling water, you’re making oatmeal, and the spices you use won’t change that. But if you throw in some honey and cinnamon, I know we’re headed somewhere wholesome. If you sprinkle in little discordant notes of garlic powder and cayenne, what we’re cooking is a tragedy. And if you upend an entire bottle of cinnamon, a quarter cup of nutmeg, and toss in seventeen whole cloves, I am not staying for breakfast.

Narrative distance:

Narrative or psychic distance is the space between the reader and the character, usually navigated by the intermediary figure of the narrator. Your narrator can be an omniscient figure that knows the thoughts, feelings, and intentions of every character in the world. Or your narrator could be sitting on the shoulder of your main character, close enough to hear their thoughts and know their story but not so close that they speak with the character’s voice. Or your narrator could be your character.

If you want to ramp up emotion, you usually want a narrator who is very close to one character (or, alternatively, to separate characters in turn). But you don’t have to stay at one distance for the whole story, and, just like word choice, shifts in narrative distance can be helpful indicators to your reader about the story and the characters.

A sudden, dramatic shift in narrative distance is quite jarring, like a sudden zoom-in during a movie. It can be effective, but it’ll lose its punch if it’s overused. Generally, if you want to shift narrative distance, you should build to it slowly. Here’s an example of shifting from a distant third person to a closer third person:

They wake the Soldier because the archer is missing. He has a habit of slipping his lead, disappearing post-mission. The chase grew tedious years ago, but the Soldier runs it just the same. He’ll do as he’s told. But it bothers him, when he lets it. The why.

Why does he do this? the Soldier wonders, when he shouldn’t, when it isn’t his place. Where is he going? he thinks, when he can’t stop himself. Who is he running to? But he tries to think nothing at all.

Another trick of narrative distance is to suddenly pull back to show a character who’s been compromised, shocked, or deeply hurt by something. Imagine spending a long time in a close Bucky perspective, hearing his thoughts, and then being abruptly walloped across the face with: The machine went quiet, and the Soldier opened his eyes. Zooming out can emphasize what’s been lost. Because you aren’t just taking the soul of Bucky Barnes right out of him, you’re also taking that closeness away from the reader. You’re silencing the voice they’ve been listening to.

Whether you zoom in or out during highly emotional moments depends on what you’re trying to accomplish and also on who’s involved.  Some characters have loud, messy emotions that will get louder when they’re hurt. Some characters will freeze over and push a narrator further away. You can use narrative distance to show a character slowly opening up or suddenly slamming a door. But you need the reader to have a solid understanding of the character in order to follow what the shift means, which leads to the next component.

Know your characters:

So, here’s the thing. You gotta Velveteen Rabbit this. Every character is Tinker Bell. If you stop believing, they die.

If you want people to care about these characters, you have to treat them like living, breathing, fully feeling people. They have favorite colors. They have phobias. They have Friday night plans and blisters from new shoes and sesame seeds stuck in their teeth. They have superstitions and secrets. You don’t need to know all of these facts, but you should try to give the impression that someone could know them. The more real your characters are, the more we’re going to care about them.

Since this is fanfiction, you start with a receptive audience. Your readers are fond of these characters. Figure out why. Figure out which parts of the character you can relate to and dig in until you feel like you can understand the parts of them you can’t relate to.

Try to collect things that make you feel close to that character. I always have music playing when I’m writing, so I make playlists for characters and playlists for stories. If I feel like I’m losing a character, I’ll go back to their playlist. But you could also use Pinterest boards, reread favorite fics or comics, rewatch movies or fanvids, or spend an unreasonable amount of time researching bows and tactical knives. Whatever works!

Also, remember, your characters don’t know what story they’re in. They don’t know it’s going to end well (or terribly). Maintain that tension, because that’s where the emotions are. When you watch a good horror movie, you’re not really scared of the monster. You’re scared for the characters, because they don’t know if they’re going to survive.

Emotions come from the characters. That’s why it’s still sad that Tony Stark dies, no matter how many times you watch it happen. Tony Stark was brave and flawed and usually right and often sarcastic, and it hurts to watch him die because that’s a full, unique human we’re losing. We know him well enough to know he’s choosing to sacrifice himself and why he made that choice and who will mourn him.

Know your characters, and let them be messy and weird and wrong and hopeful and cantankerous and unique. Fear is relatable, flaws are relatable, and awkward, ungainly, stubborn progress is relatable. Just remember what it is that makes their progress their progress because, if you can swap Dominic Toretto in for Ted Lasso and have the exact same story, you’ve probably lost your characters.

Plan your emotional trajectory:

Okay, time to get a bit technical. This is for people who like to plan. For those terrifying, godlike writers who just sit down and write, this might not be helpful. For my fellow planners:

There’s a theory (which you can get a general overview about here or, if you’re very into data, right here) that there are six core emotional trajectories in narratives:

1)      Rags to riches (rise)

2)      Riches to rags (fall)

3)      Man in a hole (fall then rise)

4)      Icarus (rise then fall)

5)      Cinderella (rise then fall then rise)

6)      Oedipus (fall then rise then fall)

Since rise and fall can mean different things, I find it helpful to combine these building blocks with emotional axes, which you can find some examples of here.

So, basically, for my winterhawk baseball au Got a Heart in Me, I Swear, I planned to follow the “man in a hole” trajectory (fall then rise) along the anxiety-confidence emotional axis with some bleedover from the humiliation-pride axis. Which basically means Clint started comfortable enough, nosedived deep into anxiety and humiliation, and then slowly built his way to confidence over the rest of the fic.

If the listed axes don’t appeal to you, you can very easily create your own. Just think of an emotion, identify what links it to its inverse, and then list the related emotions between the two opposites. Disgust and adoration are opposites, but they’re linked by attention, right? You can’t ignore something you find disgusting or adorable. So, here’s an example emotional axis you could follow: Disgust – Resentment – Obsession – Fascination – Reverence – Adoration. Enemies to lovers, anyone?

Emotional axes help provide a natural framework for your character’s emotional trajectory. They can be subtle; you don’t have to start on one end of the spectrum and go all the way to the other. A story that moves just a step or two on an emotional axis can be incredibly compelling. That small progress from discomfort to hope can hit really hard if the progress feels fought-for and earned and real.

Tips for writing emotions:

·         Get physical: If you want to show an emotion instead of telling it, describe its impacts on the body. Most characters won’t think I’m embarrassed. They’ll feel a drop in their stomach like someone cut the elevator cables and a hot stinging in their face like they’ve been slapped by some disappointed version of themselves. The more visceral your descriptions, the more the reader will feel them. If you want your reader to feast on feelings, you have to set the table.

·         Dramatic zoom: When something very intense happens, shift the narrative distance. In or out is fine, but a sudden, dramatic event should result in a sudden, dramatic change in focus. Characters might hyperfocus on their physical bodies (the mechanics of breathing, the ringing in their ears, the mad animal urge toward flight) or they might be kicked so far out of their own heads that they feel like they’re dreaming or watching the scene play out from overhead. This distance is useful for two reasons: it feels real, and it allows readers to absorb the situation in pieces, without being overwhelmed by it.

·         Unreliable narrator: Some emotions can be so charged that people don’t want to own them, like grief, shame, jealousy, rage, lust, and guilt. Characters might unconsciously misrepresent these to themselves as something else. A grieving mother might insist she’s tired. A rehabilitated assassin who’s fallen in love with an absolute dork might tell himself he’s just tracking a target. Everyone knows what it’s like to lie to themselves, so this makes characters relatable. And, also, everyone likes being in on a secret, so, sometimes, this is just fun.

·         Face the monsters: We’re often conditioned not to dwell on unpleasant things, which is part of why it can be powerful to examine them in stories. From small things like inglorious emotional states (envy, cowardice, resentment) to character flaws (recklessness, withdrawal, arrogance) to personal tragedies (loss, betrayal, abandonment), the negative parts of human emotional life pack quite a punch. Acknowledge them. Not only are they relatable experiences, but redemption and recovery arcs are some of the most compelling stories we have.

[phantoms-lair]

Mystery March 12: Friend

Another post epilogue bit from Roll of the Dice

~

“Thank you for watching Cayenne, dear.” Mrs. Pepper took the baby back from Lewis.

“She’s not a problem at all.” Lewis smiled at his littlest sister.

“Wait til she’s a toddler,” Mrs. Pepper said dryly. “All the preparations for your sisters big slumber party are almost done.”

“I’ve never had one myself.” Lewis admitted. “But you guys certainly went all out.”

“Maybe you should.” Mrs. Pepper suggested. “Since the house is being invaded by little girls, why don’t you spend the night at Arthur’s?”

Lewis froze internally. At Arthurs, which also meant at Lance’s. “I’ll...um, I’ll think about it.” he said, then went up to his room.

He turned on his radio, and attempted to drown out his thoughts in the techno music.

It’s down to you. It’s down to me. Did you ever think that I’d become someone you’d call YOUR ENEMY

Lewis slammed the radio off and buried his face in his pillow.

A small knock came from the door. “Lewis can I come in?”

He really wanted to say no but…”Come in.”

Mr. Pepper came through the door. “Lewis are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said into his pillow.

“I somehow doubt that very much.” Mr. Pepper sat on the bed next to him. “Is there something going on between you and Arthur?”

“No.”

“You and Lance?” The full body shudder gave it away. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lewis sighed and propped his head up. He probably had to say something at this point. “I knew Lance, before. We were in the same class in school.”

“You were classmates?” Mr Pepper prodded gently.

A part of Lewis wanted to leave it at that, but he knew if he did they’d never understand. “He was my best friend.”

“And now suddenly he’s in his forties and raising a kid the same age as you.” Mr. Pepper deduced. “And it’s awkward.”

Lewis nodded. That was enough to explain it, he didn’t have to say any more. “I blamed him.” The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.

“For-?” Mr. Pepper asked gently. “I thought he’d abandoned me. He talked me into going somewhere I didn’t want to go, then I passed out and when I woke back up he was gone.” And there was no way he was saying that he woke up dead with his body on the floor. “At first I thought he’d gone to get help, so I waited, but he never came back. And I found out I couldn’t leave and I was stuck there alone and I blamed him.”

“Eventually Arthur and Vivi came, and I thought he was Lance after having a growth spurt and I was so mad that he’d left me trapped for long enough to have one and -”

“And you had no idea how much time had really passed.” Mr. Pepper finished.

And I took it out on Arthur and forced him to get involved in a cursed game that’s the reason he’s disabled now. Lewis locked his jaw shut, forbidding those words from passing his lips.

“I was a real assh-a real jerk to him when I ran into him again.” Lewis corrected himself. No cursing where little ears might hear. “I told him I hated him and that it was his fault and he probably hates me now and wishes Arthur wasn’t friends with me.”

Mr. Pepper sighed and ran his fingers through Lewis’s hair. “Lewis, I can guarantee Lance doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that.” Lewis muttered.

“I do. Because he was also trying to adopt you, though the courts ruled in our favor. They do tend to prefer couples over single parents.” Also it was thought Lance had enough on his plate helping his current kid with a brand new disability. “And when they did Lance visited us and told us in no uncertain terms what would happen if we mistreated you and that he would be watching.”

“He threatened you?” Lewis asked aghast.

Mr. Pepper nodded. “I’ve heard some stories about the woman who ran a foster home here in the nineties, so I can’t blame him. But it’s obvious he still cares very deeply for you.”

“He shouldn’t. I was horrible to him. And to Arthur when I thought he was him.”

“Lewis, Lance is an adult. More to the point he’s an adult who raised a kid who had every reason to be very angry at the world. You think he’s never seen that kind of behavior before? You think Arthur never lashed out at him over his own hurts?”

“Arthur loves Lance!” Lewis argued.

“And so do you. Deep down you still think of him as your friend, otherwise you wouldn’t be feeling so guilty about being angry at him. Likewise, while he can’t be the friend he was to you, he still remembers you as his best friend. And probably feels just as guilty.”

“If Arthur hadn’t found me, he’d still have both arms.”

“And if Lance truly felt you were responsible for that, believe me, we’d all know.” Mr. Pepper chuckled. “Ask Arthur what happened the last time a kid bullied him for being an orphan. Lance is highly protective over him. Which means he doesn’t see you as a threat to Arthur, and considering along with Vivi, Arthur considers you his best friend, I don’t think Arthur blames you either.”

“He should.” Lewis muttered into his pillow.

“Lewis, I think the only one blaming you here is you. You have new friends and an old friend who still cares for you very much. That being said, it’s alright if you’re not ready to face Lance or your past together. You’ve had to process a lot in a very short amount of time. You can take your time.”

Time. Something Lewis didn’t have the best relationship with. Still, now with the game behind him. He could take it at the normal rate. “Thanks Dad.”

Mr. Pepper smiled brightly at the title. “You’re welcome son.”

[kirinda-ondo]

⚡️ Tomor?

Ah, Tomor, my favorite chucklefuck~

1. Tomor, like his friends, was also originally going to be a girl (do not ask me why this keeps happening I have no idea), but this lasted for all of about like 2.5 drawings before he decided "fuck that actually." That said, his personality and design were virtually unchanged, as someone who was kind of a rough, but well-meaning jerk (as a kid, anyway. He's much more of a jerk nowadays lmao). I ended up introducing him into OC plots way late in the game, but he's actually existed since pretty early on, with only the vaguest references being made to him because I didn't want to fully commit to an entire OC yet.

2. I named him Tomor after the Albanian god, Baba Tomor (or Father Tomor). Unlike his friends, however, he has no real connection to the deity he was named after, and the name was mostly picked for vibes. Vibes, and the fact that like how his namesake is the father of all gods, our Tomor is kind of the origin of everyone else's brain problems (minus Cayenne) without necessarily meaning to be. He was actually the first one to incorrectly assume Bragi's intentions, which then led to the horrible miscommunication that ended up fucking up both Bragi and Aneas up for most of their lives, and was the one that made the half-hearted suggestion for Aneas to stick his name in the lottery to become basically a minor god. ("Haha the chances are so unlikely but wouldn't it be funny if you won?" He did win and it was not nearly as funny as either of them thought--)

3. He has a really immature personality, and even more immature sense of humor, believing peanus weenus is the height of all comedy, but he's actually surprisingly far more intelligent than even he gives himself credit for. He enjoys books and is actually very well-read, on top of being generally clever and and good at seeing through other people's bullshit. He just never bothered to apply himself and instead uses his brain power for shitty jokes and being kind of a bully, whoops. He's very much based on the kind of asshole I was when I was like.... 12-13 lmao.

4. Despite his overall chill, "whatever" kind of demeanor, he's surprisingly conservative and judgemental. He has some old-fashioned and very rigid ideas of how he thinks things should be, and does not approve of his friends' far more unconventional life choices (like marrying a demon, or being so buddy-buddy with mortals). He's also the sort of person who's very much stuck in the past and wants to refit things to the way they used to be without accepting or understanding that people can in fact change and want different things at different points in time.

5. He can take insults and teasing just as well as he dishes them out, so it takes a lot to really get under his skin, but he has one major weakness and that is a horrible alien girl belonging to my other friend. She's the type of person that likes to be the most tragic person in the room because she loves the attention. He knows she's not even half as tragic as she claims and thus roasts the shit out of her, which then feeds into her victim complex, which then feeds into him wanting to roast her more, and it's kind of a horrible dynamic between horrible people but he's kind of into it even if he hasn't quite figured it out himself (and even if it goes against his staunch "don't get attached to mortals" policy) ajksfdklskjlf. Will this change his views any, or will he find a way to justify it? Absolutely yet to be seen lmao.

[skys-unused-main]

Next gen character Christmas headcanons:

That I spent entirely too much time on

The whole extended Weasley family meets at the burrow

this includes the Lovegoods, the Longbottoms (Neville, Hannah, Frank, and Alice (Frank and Alice are twins)), the Dursley’s (Dudley’s daughter Dawn is a witch), the Malfoy’s, Arron Finnigan Thomas (she’s friends with Roxanne and Frank’s girlfriend), Eliza and Liam Flint-Wood (Eliza is Roxanne’s friend and Liam is friends with James and Fred’s boyfriend), Raymond ‘Ray’ Nott (Roxanne’s boyfriend), Brooklyn Walters (Dominique’s muggle girlfriend who knows about magic), and May Harris (Lily’s girlfriend) sorry about all my OCs but I had to say who they are

The kids have a huge snowball fight

They all build snow forts and divid into teams

Albus, Scorpius, Rose, Dawn, Molly, Brook, and Dominique’s team almost always wins

James who like his name sake has been trying to get his crush to go out with him since first year asks out Eliza Flintwood and she throws snow in his face but later kisses him under the mistletoe

Albus and Scorpius cuddle by the fire while drinking hot coco

And Hugo keeps saying their dating even though they keep saying they’re just friends

James, Liam, Fred, and Frank live up to their title as this generations pranksters and switch out the nutmeg with Cayenne pepper which definitely does not taste good on egg nog

Lily hangs mistletoe everywhere and enchantes it so if two people are under it they have to kiss

Ron is highly amused when Draco and Harry get caught

Dominique and Molly teach Brooklyn how to catch gnomes so they can stun one for the tree

Mrs. Weasley made a sweater for everyone and they are all wearing them she did however refuse to for fill Charlie’s request for her to make one for a dragon

Hugo, Lorcan, Lysander, and Louis sneak down to the muggle village and cut down a tree and tell everyone it was from a tree stand on the side of the road

George keeps glaring at Ray and Liam because he ‘isn’t sure is her trusts them dating his kids’ and Angelina tells him to ‘shut up and trust their kids chose well’

Dawn keeps having to explain magic stuff to her parents who don’t understand why the plant in the corner of the yard tries to attack people and why the dishes wash themselves

Victoire, Teddy, and Lucy have to stop Lily from going sledding off the roof and trying to use a cushioning charm teddy didn’t actually help he thought it would be fun

They had an adults vs kids quidditch match

The adults won and Dominique said it was unfair because the adults has 3 pro players (Ginny, Marcus, and Oliver) and 2 that could have gone pro (Harry and Charlie)

James jokingly sent an invite and sweater to Mcgonagall because she’s basically family and was shocked when she showed up

Lily greatly enjoys making gagging noises and pretending to vomit when ever Hugo and Lorcan are being too affectionate

Louis almost broke his neck trying to get a quaffle that got stuck in a tree and Lorcan, Hugo, and Lysander just watched and quietly made jokes about how he should use magic

For secret Santa Ron got Harry and got him a pigeon since Albus told him Harry’s scared of them Harry was not amused

Thanks for reading this I enjoy writing it. If anyone wants to know more about my OCs just ask!

[sneezyminniejo]

I was SHOCKED to see that you said you will write for Kingdom! not many people even KNOW about them so I was wondering if you could write (and this was inspired by the vlive where Jahan {who happens to be my bias} sneezed 10 times) where after the vlive was over he is still sneezing a lot and his band mates are super concerned. (I wasn't exactly 100% sure how to explain it,but you are a good writer so it will obviously be good)

Here it is hope you enjoy.

Unknown Allergies can be Miserable

Jihun was extremely happy when the vlive finally ended. His nose had gotten insanely itchy shortly before the group went live, and then he couldn’t stop sneezing during the live. He even kept his hand hovering near his mouth and nose when he spoke, just in case he was overcome by a sneeze while talking.

His nose was still extremely itchy, but at least he wasn’t being broadcasted live in front of thousands of people anymore. “Hih-ischh, heh-tschh.” Jihun groaned as he sneezed yet again. He wasn’t even sure how many times he had sneezed. “Jihun-ah, are you feeling okay? You’ve been sneezing an awful lot.” Dongsik asked his roommate while handing him a box of tissues he’d found.

Jihun gratefully took the tissue box before grabbing a couple of tissues and blowing his nose rather productively. He cringed a little bit at how much he managed to empty into the tissues before grabbing a couple more and sneezing again. “ I honestly don’t know hyung. I just can’t seem to st-stop.” Jihun sniffled and then rubbed vigorously at his nose in hopes of ridding his nose of the constant itch.

Seungbo approached two, concern evident on his face. He promptly placed the back of his hand against Jihun’s forehead and frowned a little. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but that doesn’t mean you’re not getting sick. I think we should head back to the dorm so you can rest.” The other members nodded in agreement and went to gather their things.

When the seven men arrived at the dorm, Seungbo gave Jihun the option of the couch or his bed. Jihun, not feeling like isolating himself from everyone except his roommates, decided to go to the couch.

Yunho announced that he was making soup for dinner and was making it a little on the spicy side in hopes of clearing out his donsaeng's sinuses a little. Yoosung had come into the living room with tissues, a trash can, and a thermometer. He promptly stuck the thermometer in Jihun's mouth and began to wait.

As they were waiting for the thermometer to beep, Jihun felt the all too familiar tickle that had been plaguing him all afternoon resurface.

He immediately grabbed a handful of tissues and held them up to his nose, hoping that he could stave off the inevitable until after his temperature had been taken. Jihun's breath began to hitch.

Right when it seemed he was going to lose control, the thermometer finally beeped. Jihun's resolve broke right then and there. "Hih-nxtshh, heh-stishhh' HEH-ISTIEW' HUH-UGHIEW." Jihun sighed as he threw the soiled tissues away and grabbed more to blow his chapped nose.

Yoosung looked at the reading. "The thermometer says 98.9, your temp is slightly elevated, but still within the parameters of not being a fever." Jihun groaned at that. "If I had a fever, then it might explain the sneezing as a b-bug of so-some sort heh-stishhh. But I honestly don't know why I'm so sneezy."

Seungjun, and Sungho walked into the room somewhat chaotically as they normally do, but quieted down when they noticed Jihun was evidently still miserable. "Hyung?" Seungjun asked, "Do you know if you have any allergies? If you do, maybe something triggered them." Jihun shook his head. “As far as I know, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Sungho responded “Well it could be something you’ve never been exposed to before, or you could have developed an allergy. Either way, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until the vlive, your allergen wouldn’t be here in the dorm.” Seungbo nodded before adding, “Unless the allergen is in the hairspray or something. We should all shower and change clothes just to make sure. If it’s allergies your symptoms should go away in a bit. If you’re sick, being here at the dorm isn’t going to change anything.

Everyone agreed and decided to give Jihun the first shower. They all took turns after that. The soup had finished cooking by the time everyone finished cleaning up. Seeing as Yunho had put a decent amount of cayenne pepper into the soup, there was a lot of sniffling to go around. Jihun was still a bit sneezy, however it seemed to be tapering off.

When it came time for bed, Seungbo insisted on setting up the humidifier in the shared room of Jihun, Dongsik, and Sungho. He also gave the second maknae a decongestant to hopefully make it easier for him to sleep. By morning they would know for sure whether Jihun had had an allergic reaction of some sort, had come down with a cold, or a combination.

When morning arrived, Jihun was the last one to wake up. When he did, he was extremely happy that his nose didn’t feel very itchy at all. Jihun left his room and as he was sitting down at the table, was promptly greeted by Seungbo. “How are you feeling Ji?” Seungbo asked while placing a plate of toast and eggs in front of the younger. “I feel a lot better today.” Jihun began eating his breakfast.

About half way through breakfast, Jihun felt the all too familiar itch form in sinuses that had been plaguing him the previous evening. He quickly put down his chopsticks and grabbed his napkin while turning away from the table. “Hih-iktshh, heh-stschh.” He blew his nose then lifted his head to see concerned faces etched into his members faces. Yoosung quickly grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in the younger’s mouth. When it beeped, Yoosung took it out and smiled. “98. 2, you don’t have a fever Jihun-ah.” They were all relieved that it didn’t appear he had a cold.

Jihun was happy at his temp reading, as he truly did feel fine. “Guys, I’m fine. Those were just a couple random sneezes. I don’t feel itchy or anything.” The other six members hummed in acknowledgment. “Even so, I think you should schedule an appointment with an allergist to make sure you’re not allergic to anything.” Dongsik had said. Jihun nodded in agreement and Seungbo went to call their manager to get it set up.

A couple days later Jihun returned from the allergist appointment. He was once again a sniffly and sneezy mess. “So I take it you’re allergic to something?” Seungjun asked. Jihun nodded. “Manager-nim brought a the makeup and hair supplies that were used that day. Apparently I’m alle-itschh allergic to some of the chemicals in the hairspray. But because they hadn’t used the hairspray on me it didn’t really affect me until I was sitting next to Yoosung who had had a decent amount used.” Yunho handed Jihun a box of tissues, who gladly took it and blew his nose. “Manager-nim is going to talk with the stylists about finding hairspray and other products that don’t use the chemical. I’m going to go take a shower to get this off me.” Everyone nodded and was glad that there was a solution to make Jihun better.

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight - P2

Eyyyyy it’s prompt time. I have since forgotten what prompt’s @imagine-that-100​ gave me from the prompt list for this part two, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway. :P

And I was right, because it wasn’t over. The pool incident was just the start of much more bickering and fighting over nothing that was set to come during the months between Matty and I. We hadn’t known each other all that well prior to that day, but it definitely set the bar for future interactions. Being argumentative and stubborn was just a habit neither of us could break, much to all of our mutual friend’s annoyance. It might’ve been on the verge of immature, since we were both pushing thirty, but neither of us cared. And we never really meant it. Grudges about stolen floaties were not held for long. It was a rare occasion that we genuinely made up and said sorry, but typically by the end of the day we had either forgotten about it or played some prank on the other to feel avenged about our wrong doing. Over the course of many months of arguing and pranking, Matty and I inevitably became closer. Realistically, Matty was probably one of my best friends by this point in my life. We saw each other at least a couple of times a week for various reasons and I enjoyed his company (mostly). But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying to constantly one-up him and make sure I destroy him any time he challenges me to anything. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You gotta know your opponent’s weaknesses to best exploit them.

 However, tonight was our regularly scheduled movie night. So, more than likely no arguing would be occurring tonight. The movie had already been picked by democratic vote by the group, which meant there would be no debates about that. Everyone was bringing their own snacks, nothing to fight over. And we rotated who hosted, so no arguments there either. This week it was Matty’s turn. Last week when it had been at my flat, we had picked a comedy movie to watch and ended up receiving a noise complaint from my neighbour about us being “too rambunctious”. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have the same issue to deal with this week given Matty’s much thicker walls. I was cutting up a tray of brownies that I was graciously bringing to share - one of which may or may not have been spiked with cayenne pepper just to spite Matty for last week when he mixed my bag of skittles with m+m’s - while I replayed the events of last week. The details of the movie were actually a bit of a blur, because after the few drinks that I had downed after a rough day at work, I recalled falling asleep. When I woke up, I found myself snoring on Matty’s shoulder. God, that was utterly embarrassing. Other than my snoring, to wake up cosying up to Matty? I’d rather be caught dead. But I must have been too distracted by these memories, because as I was cutting, I slipped and managed to slice open my thumb with my new knife.

  I felt the cut the instant it happened, bracing myself for what I might see before I looked down. Sure as shit, all I saw was a lot of red. The first thought to run through my head was that my brownie plan was ruined. I couldn’t serve brownies that had been doused in blood. The second was that I absolutely needed to seal this wound as soon as possible. I raced to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of gauze and wrapping it around my thumb as tightly as I could. Do I call an ambulance? No, this wasn’t an ambulance sort of emergency. Emergency, though. I should go to the emergency room. Now. But I had to let the guys know I wasn’t coming. I could see the gauze starting to turn red as I searched my phone for Matty’s contact. Fuck, I felt so bad for bailing on this movie night given it was our regular thing, but this was really not good. Really, really not good. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

  “Hey-”

“Look, I need to go to emergency.” I interrupted in a garbled rush.

“What?” He shouted down the line.

“I need to go to hospital, so I’m not gonna make it tonight.” I explained, slightly slower.

“What did you do?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“I sliced my thumb open cutting brownies.” I just heard him laughing. “It’s not funny, Matty. I need stitches.” I frowned as I started to grab my essentials. What if they wanted to keep me in overnight? Oh my god, I was absolutely not prepared for something like this. I should have a go bag. Is that a thing normal people did? Have a go bag in case they accidentally injure themselves? Maybe smart people did.

“Do you need me to drive you?” He offered as I was contemplating what exactly I would put in a go bag.

“What? Uh, no. I’m okay. I think.” I rattled off.

“I’ll meet you there.” I heard him say. He what? Why would he want to come to the hospital?

“Wait. No, you don’t-” But he’d already hung up.

  Before I left the house, I slapped another few layers of bandage over the gauze on my thumb to try and put some pressure on this cut that was apparently bleeding like a tap by the rate it was turning things red. Driving to the hospital with a thumb as fat as mine was with all the bandages wrapped around it was not easy to say the least, but I managed to get there in one piece. Once I had gotten there, paid for my parking, and then managed to check myself into the ER, I was able to take a seat and decompress slightly. But, the peace and quiet didn’t last long, because not even five minutes after I sat down a familiar face entered through the sliding glass doors.

“Good job.” Matty said as he approached, with a slow clap for emphasis.

“Don’t patronise me.” I scoffed.

“Show me.” He said as he took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to my own.

“It’s okay-”

“Just show me what you did.” He dismissed.

“I mean, I can’t really take this stuff off-” I gestured to my half blood-soaked bandages, “-or it’ll bleed worse.”

He let out a low whistle as he raked a hand through his curls. “Bloody hell.” He muttered under his breath, before glancing up at me. “Pardon the pun.” He added with a smirk.

“Shut up. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” I lied. I was trying to play it down, to pretend like I hadn’t briefly seen how deep that knife went, but I knew that this was definitely very vital that I see a doctor very fucking soon.

He met my gaze, clearly seeing the stress I was trying to hide. “You’re not very convincing.” He chuckled.

  Despite my protests about him wanting to wait with me, Matty continued to ramble on about what he had done earlier in the day while we sat in the crowded waiting room. He also told me not to worry about cancelling on the movie night, and thanked me for trying to make brownies. If only he had known what his brownie was going to taste like. But at least he was distracting me from the weird sensation in my thumb. After about half an hour, I was called through to be seen by the nurse - which realistically just meant that I sat and waited in another room for a further ten minutes until I was finally seen by someone. When she walked in, she introduced herself and asked for a run down of the situation as she started gathering some supplies. After I had explained what I had done, she started moving towards my giant wad of bloody fabric.

“I’m gonna look away.” I warned the nurse, she just nodded in response. I felt her unravelling the bandages on my thumb, trying really hard to busy myself by studying the vision tester chart on the wall. She let out a quiet hum as she analysed the situation.

“All right. I am going to put some glue on this now to hold it, but we are going to need to anaesthetise you to properly sort this out. Is that okay?” She asked in a calm tone. They were going to knock me out? It was bad enough to need to be knocked out for?? Holy shit.

“Um, yep.” I nodded. “I suppose it’ll have to be.” I added with a nervous laugh. “When will that be?”

“As soon as they can get you in. Likely in the next few hours.” She answered.

  When I came back out of the nurse’s station, I sat back down and told Matty what they had said.

“They need to sedate you?” He asked in shock.

“I’ve apparently done quite a number on myself.” I could feel the stress building up as the realisation set in. Oh my god. I had cut off my thumb. I had cut off my thumb and now they needed to reattach it. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

“Hey, calm down.” He reassured, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”

“But what if it’s too late? What if I cut too far? What if-”

Thankfully, Matty interrupted my downward spiral of anxiety. “They would’ve told you if that were the case. They’re going to operate, so it must be fine.” He moved to take my good hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind as I nodded in agreement. At least one of us was the voice of reason right now. “When are you going in?” He questioned, seeming genuinely sympathetic.

“They said as soon as possible. I just have to wait here until a theatre frees up.” I replied. He just nodded thoughtfully. “You should go back to the movie night.” I said, eventually feeling guilty that he’d already been sat waiting here for an hour.

“No.” He shook his head as he rifled through his pocket. “You want some gum?” He asked, holding a packet out in my direction.

I looked down at them apprehensively. “They’re not some ridiculous flavour, are they?”

He laughed loudly. “No, I threw the wasabi ones out.”

  It was another hour before I was finally called through to get ready for theatre. Now I was genuinely feeling pretty awful that Matty had been here this whole time. We had well and truly pushed past dinner time, he’d missed the movie, our friends were all sat at his place without him. He can’t have been having a good time stuck here with me.

“Okay, I gotta go in.” I said as I stood up.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He smiled up at me from his seat.

“Just go home, I’ll be fine.” I said as I gestured to the door.

“No.” He grinned.

“Go.”

“No.” His dark brown eyes bore into mine, clearly challenging me to push him further on the subject.

“I hate you, so much.” I grumbled as I heard the nurse call my name again.

“I love you, too.” He said, blowing a kiss for emphasis as I walked off.

  The doctors all reassured me that the operation was going to be quick and easy. Knock me out, stitch me up, wake me up fifteen minutes later. Easy peasy. I had never had any issues with operations, being knocked out was easy. It was the stuff you had to be awake for that was hard. True to their word, when I saw the clock when I started coming to, it had been no more than half an hour than when I last checked the time. But my god I felt groggy. My brain felt like it had been replaced with a bunch of cotton balls and my eyelids might as well have been made of lead. I glanced down at my thumb, seeing a much smaller pile of bandages on there, that were now thankfully not soaked in blood. That was nice. I then caught sight of the man sat next to my bed.

“Hey, you’re up.” Matty said quietly as he stepped over. As soon as he leaned over the bed frame, the fluorescent lights above him just illuminated his dark, curly hair. Holy shit. It looked borderline angelic. “How’re you feeling?”

“Your hair…” I mumbled as I reached out my good hand to touch it.

He seemed surprised by my actions at first, before letting my run a hand through it. “What about it?” He asked with a quiet laugh.

“It’s really soft.” I answered, genuinely quite surprised by how nice it felt. “Has it always been that soft?” I felt like I had been missing out. I could’ve been touching this hair for nearly a year now and instead I had been swapping his shampoo for ranch dressing and perfume.

  Matty seemed keen to indulge my anaesthesia haze, letting me bother him with all of my weird questions about his hair. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. I did a lot of mean shit to him and here he was, sat with me in emergency all evening instead of hanging out with his friends. After the pranks I’d pulled, I likely didn’t deserve a friend like him. But he’d pulled them on me too. We were a pretty good pair, I suppose. And I had no idea if it was this lighting or what, but dare I say, Matty was looking pretty attractive today. Had I really just been so focused on butting heads with him that I never noticed these things before?

“Are you sure you really look this good? I feel like I must still be dreaming.” I said, pretending to shield my eyes.

He frowned, before the realisation dawned on him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“Don’t use cheesy pickup lines on me.” He chuckled.

“How else am I meant to pick you up?” I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.

“Are you trying to?” He asked as a smile slowly made its way onto his face.

“Maaaaybe.” I said in an attempt to be non-committal, but then my curiosity got the better of me. “Is it working?”

“I’m gonna remind you of this when you’re properly out of the anaesthetic.” He just looked amused. Not the reaction I had hoped for. But I was too tired to keep trying to come up with clever lines.

“Okay.” I muttered, nodding softly. “Gon’ sleep now, though.” I added.

“Rest up.” He agreed. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get to deal with me giving you shit for this tomorrow.”  

Part one

Part three

[jilytho]

Fools in Uber Pools Ch 3

Part 3/4 of my silly uber au

Read below or on AO3 :) Read from beginning here

Saturday, November 7th 10:36am

Uber-Pool: Your driver is Richard. Your estimated time of arrival is 10:53am.

James was perched in the middle seat, knees cramped halfway into his chest and halfway in Sirius’s lap, while Sirius leisurely spread his out in front of him. Stupid git and his nonstop coin flip wins. “Budge over, dolt. I’m going to be half on top of whoever is about to get in here.”

“James, honey,” Sirius looked down at him condescendingly, “if you didn’t want to cuddle with a new friend you should have called heads!” 

“I know where I’d like to put your head.”

The door swung open before the boys could begin outright wrestling in the back of Richard’s very nice, but very cramped, car. 

“Well, hello there. Fancy seeing you, shower boy.” James whipped around to see the most gorgeous smirk in the world staring down at him. He felt his entire neck flame up and his left hand itching to grab his hair but was prevented by the fact that it was half stuck under Sirius’s arse. 

“Shower boy?” Sirius repeated delightedly.

“Oh! You! Hi!” he gasped out, eyes incredulous at his bad luck. Or maybe amazing luck. 

“Hello there, I don’t believe we have had the pleasure.” Sirius peered around James, reaching a hand right over James’s lap to shake hers. Naturally, they had to shake directly over James’s mid center and six inches above his crotch, inciting a deep blush for a whole new source of reasons. 

He stared straight ahead. His entire side pressed up along her side, causing tingles and flames to spark at every single molecule of contact. 

“Red hair, beautiful eyes. No wonder you’ve already discussed James in the shower. Perhaps you’d like to join him in one some time?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

James choked on his own saliva. “Are you hitting on her for me?” 

“Well someone ought to! Clearly you’re too much of a fumbling idiot to do it yourself,” he mocked whispered, shooting a wink over James’s shoulder at Lily. 

“How have you been?” Lily, kindly and wisely, ignored Sirius and looked solely at James. “Any new hangover experiments you want to catch me up on since our last meeting?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him dramatically and his laugh came out like the panicked squawk of a choking seagull. 

“No, no, nothing so exciting. Although, I did accidentally add cayenne pepper to my coffee this morning and that was definitely a wake up call after a night of whiskey. Might be worth a shot.”

God he needed to learn when to shut up. 

“I’m sorry how exactly does one accidentally add cayenne pepper to their coffee?”

“That’d be my bad, actually,” Sirius cut in, eyeing them both suspiciously, “Jamesie here likes to put cinnamon in his coffee everyday. I may have purposely accidentally mislabeled the jars before he came downstairs today.”

“Ah, I see,” she giggled softly, giving James a teasing elbow to the side, “what’s a light prank or two between boyfriends?” 

James spluttered like a fish while Sirius howled obnoxiously.

“Something I said?” she cautiously smiled, eyes flitting between James’s aghast expression and Sirius’s obvious joy.

“You,” Sirius pointed straight at her, “I love.” 

James yanked his hand out from between his side and Sirius’s so he could fling it into Sirius’s chest.

“What he means to say,” James turned back to Lily, hand rifling through his hair, “is absolutely not. Not boyfriends. Well, he has a boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. But if it were either it’d be a girlfriend. That I’d have. I erm I date girls. Just not currently dating a girl.” He trailed off slowly, watching Lily’s grin grow as he rambled on and his blush continued to deepen. “We’re brothers,” he finished lamely. 

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking. 

“Thanks for clearing that up. I’ll keep that in mind. I think we might be at your stop though.” James whipped around to look at Sirius’s window and see they were in fact in front of Remus’s building and likely had been for half of his rambling speech. 

“Oh don’t worry, we’re in no rush.” Sirius smirked deliriously, “please James continue to tell the lady about your complete utter lack of a boyfriend or girlfriend. This is the best car ride of my life.” 

James had never glared more strongly in his life than in that moment. 

“Right, get out then before I kick you through the door.” 

Sirius was still giggling maniacally and threatening to go back and tell her about his last failed relationship by the time James was able to scoot all the way out of the car and look back in at Lily, who was naturally watching the entire thing as casual as could be. 

“Sorry about him, he’s not usually allowed out of the house.”

“Don’t be. I liked him. Maybe I’ll meet him again some time.”

“Yeah, erm, yeah maybe. That’d be grand.” Grand, humiliating, horrifically embarrassing, who's to say, really.

“Right, bye then.” And the door closed and Richard pulled away before he could begin to process that exchange.

[holy-honeybees]

Snowdrift

AO3

Rating: T+ (for swearing)

Summary: Three friends and  their dog get lost in a snowstorm while investigating the paranormal. Amidst swirling flurries of white, some lose their way and get lost in their memories, others lose sight of their friends and loved ones, and an unforgiving winter quickly fills in the footprints one would follow to get back home.

A/N: I started this back in November 2019 but sadly never finished the work. I was thinking of holding off till it started to snow again, but figured now was as good a time as any to try and finish this.The title is taken from Snail's House song "[snowdrift]" which you can check out here!

My hopes of having a regular posting schedule were completely dashed by the disaster that is the year 2020. But I’m still here, I’m still writing, and though I don’t know when the next chapter will be, I know there will be another. Beware that from here on, there may be some slight SPOILERS for the latest MSA video, “The Future!” If you haven’t already watched it though, you absolutely should, it was amazing, and the whole team who worked on it are all so talented!!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter One

Chapter Seven

Lewis glanced behind him to watch as Vivi and Mystery disappeared into the woods, the flashlight beam wavering as his friends passed behind trees and headed deeper into the forest. His own fluorescence gave the surrounding snowdrifts a soft, pink glow, illuminating his path as he headed along where he guessed the road to be under the thick blanket of snow. The ghost fought the urge to turn around and check on Vivi and Mystery again, knowing if he gave in now he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from watching until the last glimmer of their flashlight faded from view. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to take care of themselves. He knew how fearsome Mystery could be, even after his injury, and though Vivi was frustrated by her lack of mastery over magic, she’d taken to it readily. If her friends were in danger, Lewis knew nothing would stop her, magic or no. It was just hard for him to give up old habits. He couldn’t help but think of being the protector as his role in the group, especially after so many years of Arthur hiding behind him. Despite his size, Lewis had never been much of a fighter when he was alive. He’d always relied on his height and broad shoulders to intimidate, whether it was Arthur’s high school bullies or whatever monster of the week had decided to pick a fight with them. His death had surprisingly come with a few benefits, the supernatural speed at which he now travelled being just one of them. Already he had come to the bend in the road where their near miss had occurred just days ago, the guardrail and sign warped out of place from the impact with the van. Lewis ran his hand along the arrow on the sign, brushing loose snow to the ground.  

It was hard to believe that they had been having snowball fights and drinking hot cocoa just the other day. The snow which had once been so entrancing to him now seemed ominous and deadly, the winter wonderland having transformed into a frozen wasteland. Lewis suppressed a shiver. He shouldn’t have been able to feel the freezing temperatures, but the cold gnawed at his bones nonetheless. He was reminded of the walk-in freezer at the Pepper Paradiso. Once, while he’d still been in high school, Lewis had accidentally locked himself in the walk-in at the restaurant. He’d only been stuck for about fifteen minutes, but the cold had seemed unbearable for even that short amount of time. He’d been lucky that Ma and Pa Pepper were so quick to get him out. He couldn’t get his teeth to stop chattering until his mom had fixed him up a special batch of her hot chocolate flavored with cinnamon and cayenne pepper. Lewis remembered sitting in the dining area, cradling his mug of hot chocolate as his dad rubbed a hand up and down his arm to help warm him up. His mother had been livid and had immediately called the fridge manufacturer to demand they send someone to replace the faulty door release on the inside of the walk-in. Despite his parents’ best efforts, the chill hadn’t left him until late that night when he was curled up in bed, bundled in extra blankets.

Lewis wondered just how long Arthur had been gone before the others had discovered him missing. He feared that the mechanic had been gone too long already. He knew now just how fragile people were, and given Arthur’s tendency to stress himself out and forgo basic needs, he worried for the mechanic more than most. Shifting his focus from his worries to the task at hand, Lewis turned to search the expanse of snow surrounding him, trying to find a sign that the mechanic had been this way at all. Each direction looked the same as the others though. It was impossible to tell if it was because Lewis had picked the wrong way to go or if the belligerent snowfall had simply covered Arthur’s tracks. Without any kind of path to follow, Lewis picked a direction at random. Phasing through the twisted metal of the guardrail, he sped away from the road into the snowy fields beyond to continue his search. The plains the ghost now flew over were as flat and empty as the rest of the landscape had been. Lewis hoped it would make the mechanic easy to spot, even with the moon covered by clouds and the thick snowfall still coming down. The snow in the distance went almost blue with shadows, but if he passed close enough to the mechanic, the ghost was sure he would recognize the bright orange color his friend so frequently wore.

“Arthur!” Lewis called. The snow on the ground muffled his shout, and the lowly moaning winds quickly drowned out the remaining sound. Still, Lewis couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he received no response. The spirit pushed onwards, constantly scanning his surroundings for a glimpse of familiar orange amidst all the white. As he rushed further away from the road to continue his search for Arthur, Lewis was struck with a sense of déjà vu. For a moment, he could have sworn that the snowy landscape had shifted, changing from a seemingly barren tundra to a familiar hallway, lined with portraits and doors that looped back in on each other in impossible patterns. The stripes in the wallpaper blurred together as he flew by, hunting down the scrawny mechanic that had betrayed him.

“Arthur!” the ghost bellowed.

Lewis skidded to an abrupt halt, shocked by the wrathful tone of his own voice. As he looked around again, he was back in the snowy field that lay beyond the bend in the road, no haunted mansion in sight. Just an endless, featureless white landscape. It had all been so real, the desire to find Arthur and punish him so strong, that for a moment Lewis had forgotten where he was. He’d forgotten himself and had lost the careful control he had on his anger. Even now that the specter had forgiven Arthur and come to peace with his own demise, the rage never seemed to go away. It was always simmering just below the surface, waiting for him to slip up and boil over. Afterall, it wasn’t just his attachment to Vivi that had brought him back, but his desire for vengeance as well. This anger was a part of him now, as much as he hated it, as much as he was afraid of it. Normally he kept it buried deep, able to force it back down whenever it reared its ugly head. He hadn’t felt such an intense flare of rage in months, and his fury had never boiled over without any provocation before. The imagined cold that had seeped into his bones was now completely burned out, the golden locket that served as his anchor thrumming with anger.

Did he really still hate his friend so much?

Lewis shook his skull back and forth, his hair flickering wildly at the movement. He had to keep it together. He thought back to all the late night conversations with Arthur that had helped to keep his loneliness at bay over the last few months. How before the cave, they would camp out on top of the van and look at the stars, guessing at the names of constellations, the mechanic at ease enough to fill the silence with idle chatter about science fiction and space travel. He remembered how his friend had helped him study for the law school he’d hoped to get into, shuffling through stacks of flash cards filled with legal jargon over milkshakes at the restaurant. Teenage years spent at each other’s houses, sleepovers filled with binge watching Sailor Moon andsuffering through Surf’s Up Pizza because he knew how much Arthur liked it. The only kid in middle school who had readily accepted that Lewis hadn’t been a part of the Pepper household up until the day he was.  

The ghost put a hand to his anchor, willing himself to calm down as he wrapped his fingers around the heart-shaped locket. He didn’t hate Arthur. At least, not anymore. Facing down a murderous, possessed kitsune together hadn’t magically spirited away the hurt Lewis had felt. His behavior towards Arthur had ranged from cold to cruel in the first couple of months following their reunion. During one disastrous case, it had gotten bad enough that the mechanic had almost walked away from the Mystery Skulls for good. While on an investigation out of town, Lewis had lost his tenuous grip on his temper and had blown up at the mechanic to a nuclear degree. Arthur had fled, even leaving his precious van behind, determined to hitchhike his way back home to Tempo. Mystery had tried to talk the mechanic out of it, but Vivi had ended up having to drag Arthur away from the roadside herself. With the mechanic refusing to talk, the blue-haired girl had resorted to taking him to a bar and had plied him with alcohol to get him to open up. Arthur had finally broken down into a blubbering mess after several drinks. Once their tab had been paid and the mechanic tucked away safely in the back of the van to sleep it off, Vivi had tracked down Lewis to give the ghost a piece of her mind with a stern lecture that Ma Pepper would have been proud of. While she was sympathetic to the ghost’s position, she reminded him that it wasn’t really Arthur who had pushed him off the cliff, and that the mechanic had been devastated and desperate to find Lewis after he’d gone missing. Vivi also pointed out it wasn’t fair to force her to choose between the faithful friend she’d had by her side over the past year and someone she had only just started to remember having loved. Faced with the prospect of tearing the Mystery Skulls apart and driving away the people he cared about, the ghost had begrudgingly agreed to try and put the past behind him.

With the winter winds swirling around him, Lewis could feel the beating of the heart in his hand slow to a steady thump, thump, thump as he reminisced. Things had been hard at first. The smallest of slights irked the ghost, and it took tremendous concentration to think before he snapped. He had still failed on occasion, with his only choice then being to leave his friends behind while he cooled off. Little by little though, he was able to box up his resentment and pack it away, having a much easier time dealing with it in smaller pieces. He then found he could control his anger, and even if it had become a part of him, it didn’t have to control him. Talking with Mystery had helped. The kitsune had centuries of life experience to draw from, and was more than happy to offer advice or just sit back and listen when Lewis needed him to. Vivi was just as willing to help, but couldn’t always stop herself from offering up ideas and solutions when Lewis talked about his problems. Sometimes it was nice to have someone to just listen without interruption. With time, practice, and help from his friends, the ghost was finally able to be around Arthur again, and being around his former friend reminded Lewis of why they had been friends in the first place. After a while, he found he actually liked being around Arthur, even in their new circumstances. He wanted to try and be friends again, but there had been so much to remedy between them. It had taken a long time for the mechanic to let his guard down around the ghost, not that Lewis could blame him. When he finally did, they had slowly begun to mend their friendship, but something was still missing. Lewis struggled at times to keep his distance, not wanting the mechanic to feel uncomfortable or threatened by his presence after so much bad blood between them. He waited respectfully for Arthur to bridge the gap, but, even now, the mechanic still seemed wary of him. Lewis had to wonder if his friend just needed more time or if he’d irreparably broken something between them. The ghost would never forgive himself if he’d missed his chance to fix things. Lewis looked at the locket in his hand and flipped it open. Eyes unclouded by anger, he could clearly see the picture of the four of them it contained. Together, just the way they should be.

All he wanted now was his best friend back.

Lewis heaved a sigh, closing the locket again as he prepared to continue his search. The sight of the golden heart had given him an idea. Concentrating, the spirit summoned his coffin, the dark lacquered wood standing out against the snow. The casket lid sprung open to reveal six purple-colored spirits, each adorned with a small golden heart of their own. The Dead Beats immediately poured out of the coffin, winding around Lewis’s shoulders and bumping up against his shins. Vivi had been enthralled to be able to study the small ghosts up close once they’d been formally introduced. According to Mystery, they were weaker spirits drawn to Lewis’s power, feeding on his cast-off energy. The kitsune had assured the Mystery Skulls that they weren’t some kind of paranormal parasite though, and no harm would come to Lewis from their presence. It was a symbiotic relationship, and while there was no direct benefit to him, Lewis did find he enjoyed their company. They reminded him of affectionate cats sometimes. Especially with the way they rubbed against his legs, humming instead of purring, as they did now.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Lewis said earnestly, patting at one of the little specters’ heads, “But right now I need your help. Can you do something for me?”

The Dead Beats harmonized in a way he knew meant ‘yes’.

“Good,” he replied, “Arthur is missing. I need you to split up and help me look for him. If you find him, come tell me where he is right away. Can you do that?”

Another affirmative humming sound.

“Thank you! Please, go as quick as you can!” Lewis set about pointing each of the Dead Beats in a different direction, one of them doubling back to see if Arthur had travelled further along the road Lewis had left behind. The others fanned out through the field to cover more ground and expand their search radius. Lewis watched as they took off in every direction, zipping over the snowbanks as they began to search for the mechanic. Satisfied, he continued forwards on the path he’d chosen for himself. There were now six extra sets of eyes looking for the lost mechanic. Lewis only hoped that if one of them did find Arthur, they wouldn’t try to play any tricks on him. The Dead Beats had quite a mischievous streak, with Arthur being the favorite target of their practical jokes and pranks. Having the extra help in his search was a huge relief, but Lewis knew he wouldn’t truly feel at ease until his friend had been safely recovered.

Please don’t let me be too late…to find him…to fix things.

There was still so much Lewis wanted to say. They never talked about that night in the cave, and though sometimes Lewis felt that they didn’t have to, he did wonder if it would help. He hoped he would get the chance to find out. While Lewis had calmed himself considerably, his worried thoughts still tumbled about like a brewing storm as he continued the search for his missing friend. He ignored that, deep beneath the hopes and fears he felt, a spark of anger was still burning in his chest, refusing to go out.