#not even the snow in itself

[natreads]

Hopefully the last snow of the year

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Jon’s immediate reaction to R+L=J is basically him spending all his years insecure about his bastard status and carrying the weight of being the one stain on Ned Stark’s honor, only to hear that he wasn’t Ned’s source of shame at all and going “you know what, as long as I get to be yours, I’d rather be your bastard”

[sabraeal]

Friends With Amenities

[Read on AO3]

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Shirayuki’s fingers curl against the counter; the only thing keeping her upright as her blood abandons everything below the knee and rushes to her head. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

The concierge points one long nail toward her screen, angled firmly away from the customer side of the counter, eyebrows bumping up against her hairline. “Well, ma’am, it says here that you’re booked for the deluxe king suite, complete with master bath, full kitchenette, and picturesque views of the old quarter.”

“No, I— I’m sure I said two queens.” She’d only made the booking two weeks ago, fingers trembling as she read the number off the department’s travel card, double- and triple-checking that the reservation had been for two adults in two separate beds. “Very sure! I even have the email—”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Nails clatter as the woman waves her hand, unconcerned. Sweat prickles along her spine, and oh, what Shirayuki wouldn’t give to tap into some of the reserve of calm. “But it looks like you were selected for a free upgrade! That means that not only are you welcome to partake in our continental breakfast, but that you also have access to our—”

“But one king is still less than the two beds I asked for.” It’s not as if there’s a problem sharing with Obi— over the past year, she’s probably spent more nights in his bed with him that she’s spent in her own alone the last three— but that’s all…incidental. Something that happens when she agrees to just one more episode, or lets him work on one last slide as she starts in on her bedtime reading. But agreeing to this—

That would be on purpose. A plan to share space. Two bodies beneath the covers touching.

“Can’t you just put me back in my old room?” The bitten ends of her nails carve painful crescents into her palms. “If you upgraded me to a king suite, that means there was a double queen you left empty, doesn’t it?”

The concierge grimaces, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this conference has got us booked to the gills. If there was a double queen available, it’s been booked out now.”

“But…” Her eyes sting, and ugh— this is a silly thing to to care about. Pedantics, really, when they probably would have ended up curled up on the same bed anyway. But that doesn’t stop the pressure building in her nose, or the hot, helpless tears hanging at the end of her tear ducts. “Why?”

“Ah, I’m not sure of the…er… selection process when it comes to these upgrades, ma’am.” The concierge pointedly looks down at her screen, uselessly wiggling the mouse. “Maybe it was random, or maybe they looked at your reservation and saw something about it that made them think you might have…hm…wanted one bed at a better price point…”

“What would…?” Her teeth snap shut around the question. The double queen was cheaper than a single king; even a couple might look at the price points and decide the extra bed wasn’t a deal breaker. Two people with the same address—

But they didn’t have Obi’s address, or hers. Just the department’s card, and two names, one male, one female.

My point is, you’re in a hotel filled with people who won’t find it intimidating that you can mark a turtle migratory pattern on a map just by looking at its skull. Yuzuri’s shrug is seared onto the back of her eyelids, so casual, like like the logic of work hookups is obvious. What happens at conference stays at conference.

“I’d like to”— speak with your manager perches right at the tip of her tongue, threatening to tip over, to cause a scene, but a deep breath scuttles it before she can founder— “ask if there’s any other rooms available?”

The concierge casts her the sort of side eye Yuzuri could only dream of, but she keys in the request anyway. “The honeymoon suite? That comes with—”

Shirayuki slumps. “I’ll take the deluxe king.”

*

It’s not hard to find Obi— he’s hovering at the edge of the bar, as promised, the entire impossible length of his legs unfurled between seat and floor. There’s the barest hint of tanned skin where his shirt has begun to roll up, and—

And it’s just her luck that Yuzuri’s already there, curled around her drink like her smile’s curls around the straw, watching her watching him.

“There she is!” she calls out, one hand swinging out in invitation. “Suzu’s already searching for swag on the expo floor. I was gonna wait for you, but it looked like things were getting heated down at your end of the counter, so I thought I’d leave you to it.”

There’s an edge of her tongue that could lash out, could cut with a real wry thanks— but it blunts when she considers just what sort of help Yuzuri would have been with one bed on the line.

A dimple furrows itself between Obi’s brow as he sets down his glass, the plastic gator at the bottom bobbling between layers. “Everything all good, Doc? I can go over and cause a problem if you need some—”

There might be no way to guess this cocktail’s composition— some kind of juice, probably, maybe with champagne for bubbles, or vodka for a kick— but whatever it is, it’s certain better than trying to explain all this sober. Shirayuki reaches out with both hands, completely ignoring the suggestion of straw or stirrer, and takes a full gulp.

It’s almost disappointing how little it burns going down. It does taste good though.

Obi lifts a brow. “That bad, huh?”

She takes a breath, running a hand over the back of her mouth before she tells him, “We’ve only got one bed.”

*

“Aw, come on, Doc.” Obi shifts his bag over his shoulder, biceps flexing to redistribute the weight, and haah, it would be nice to get a little warning if he was going to make himself so dangerous to look at. “How bad could it be?”

Her suitcase rolls too close, nipping her heels halfway to the door, but even that can’t keep her from rolling a glare his way. “You know better than to say something like that.”

“I know, I know, but I’m just saying— bed as big as that, we’re practically in different zip codes.” He shrugs, and oh, he might be playing casual, might be pretending that all this hits him like water off a duck’s back, but Shirayuki doesn’t miss the stiffness of those angles, the way tension hampers every twitch. “I could go full starfish and you’d still have to ship international to get to my fingers.”

She snorts. “I think you underestimate just how much limb you have.”

“I think you mean rippling muscle.” He flexes one in demonstration, close enough that she catches the nutmeg and bergamot of his deodorant. “Unending plains of gains. The heartland of hulk. The absolute breadbasket of—”

“I didn’t realize we were talking about Mitsuhide,” she hums, too innocent, swiping her card in front of the door’s scanner.

“Hey—”

The door swings open, and all his planned protests elide into a heartfelt whistle. “Wow, when they say upgrade, they mean upgrade.”

“I guess so…” The double queen had been just a room with beds, two chairs and a table thrown into a corner to give somewhere else to sit— plenty of room for two people who were used to navigating the same space— but this…this is practically an apartment. The stumpy entryway leads right into the living room, small kitchen to the right and bathroom to the left.

Obi saunters past her, dropping his bag on the sectional— a full couch plus chaise— and hooks his hands on his hips. “Damn. This TV is bigger than ours!”

She clucks her tongue on habit, flushing when his grin. “We’re not here to watch TV.”

“Right, we’re here to get some billionaire to sign off on saving turtles,” he says agreeably, even as he flicks it on, scrolling through the guide. “But while we’re not doing that, I bet this thing gets all the channels. I wonder if HBO still plays porn after midnight…”

“We’re here for a conference,” she reminds him, taking the two steps up to a set of folding doors. “And hopefully finding Eisetsu Rugilia among the attendees.”

“Right, but they don’t have lectures and two am, so—”

“Obi.”

He holds up his hands. “You’re right, Doc. Two am is when all these billionaire babies have their parties. I won’t have time for” — he squints at the text stretching across the screen— “Damon’s Seed when I’m already living my own Eyes Wide Shut.”

She stares at him, blank. “You know I don’t get that reference.”

“I know.” One shoulder lifts; the most aggravating of his shrugs. “It’s funnier that way.”

With anyone else she would let it drop— woodland fairy creature she may be, but she didn’t begrudge her childhood a moment of sunshine— but with Obi she huffs, fitting her fists around the door’s knobs, informing him, “One day I’m going to watch all these movies, and then you’ll have to find some other source of entertainment.”

“Believe it when I see it, Doc. Believe it while I see it.”

“You will. After I finish my thesis, I’ll have plenty of time to”— the doors whip open, a more dramatic entry than she planned, and—

And her whole brain narrows onto a single, “Oh.”

“Wow.” Obi’s breath catches far too close to her ear. “Now that’s some bed. I think we might lose you in the pillows.”

Her jaw works, managing a single, “Um.”

“Oh hey!” Obi peers around the jamb. “Look, there’s more room! That’s pretty…”

He slinks past her, all sinew and swagger, and—

And nearly stumbles, all his words peter down to a “Woah.”

*

“A jacuzzi?” Yuzuri groans, head sinking into her hands. “You guys got a jacuzzi?”

“A jacuzzi tub,” Shirayuki corrects numbly, the stem of her Shirley Temple twisting between her fingers. “Not a…a hot tub or anything.”

“Big enough to be one though.” Obi’s hand brushes over his shoulder, contemplative, before settling back on his drink. “Probably could fit the whole lab in there if we didn’t mind getting cozy.”

Izuru tilts her head. “Oh, like…naked?”

As brazen as Obi can be, even he chokes. “The lab tub party would definitely have a bathing suit dress code.”

“Oh.” She sighs, disinterested. “Disappointing.”

“Where’s my free upgrade?” Yuzuri leans back, head tipping over her chair in despair. “I want a jacuzzi.”

“Maybe one of your hookups will have one, if you’re lucky,” Kazaha drawls, flipping through his copy of the conference directory. It’s not quite phone book sized, but it is intimidating, filled cover-to-cover with people not much older than her but far more accomplished. Only a few hours ago, she might have questioned her place here, whether she would ever contribute enough to the field to even get an abstract in the door, but—

But right now she’s still stuck on the full bathroom, visible from the bed. Except, of course, the toilet. That, thankfully, is tucked away in a smaller closet. But still, shower and tub and bed with nothing but a change in flooring to separate them.

Yuzuri can never know. “I don’t want to take a bath in some guy’s tub! Like god, how would that even be relaxing?”

“The sex could be interesting,” Izuru offers. “Just like a hot tub.”

“No, we’ve been over this!” Yuzuri waves a hand, as if that might be enough to shoo the idea away from the table. “You need preparation for water sex. Lube, for one. A plan, for another. Insurance, since at best you’re going to crack your head open, and at worst, you’ll end up at a gynecologist.”

Suzu blink. “Worst?”

“There are things that can happen to a vag that I’d rather be in a coma for.” She gives Shirayuki a pointed— and completely unnecessary— glance. “Trust me.”

Obi simply raises a brow, sipping from his straw. “You didn’t bring lube?”

“That’s not the point.” Yuzuri rolls her eyes, flicking a ribbon of blonde over her shoulder. “If I’m taking a bath, it’s going to be with bubbles and salts and no less than four jets, all alone.”

“But he could wash your hair.” Suzu’s forehead furrows, oddly concerned. “That’s nice isn’t it? I liked it when then did it at the salon…”

“It is nice, Suzu, but it’s also intimate, and if I’m just looking to— ugh.” Her hands fly up in the air. “Never mind. No jacuzzi sex, end of story. Now what are you going to do about the one bed situation?”

“Y-yuzuri!” Shirayuki sputters, hoping her cheeks are only half as red as they feel. “That’s— that’s not important.”

“I think it’s important,” she hums, smirk wrapping around her straw. “Entertaining, at least.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Obi huffs, settling back in his chair. “There’s enough bed for the population of Luxembourg. Me and Doc could both be on that thing and not be within shouting distance.”

Yuzuri swivels in her seat, glaring at Shirayuki across the table. “It’s so unfair you guys got that room and you’re not even going to f—”

Suzu clears his throat. “Not to state the obvious but…doesn’t this room have a couch or something?”

*

“The program says G7,” Shirayuki murmurs, lingering over the letters printed at the head of each aisle. “Which I think should be down over here, if— Obi, are you all right?”

He might have dogged her heels through the doors of the exhibition hall, but Obi’s lagged behind as she navigates through the field of half-empty tables, only a handful of posters properly displayed. He grunts, adjusting the half dozen canisters on his back. “Well, it is kind of a burn to have Suzu have to remind me couches exist. I mean, I would know, wouldn’t I? Done plenty with only two feet of cushion—”

“I meant with the posters,” she sighs, doubling back to lift a few from his shoulders. “I can’t believe they sent us to set up all of them.”

“I can.” Obi smirks, leaning the rest against the table. “It’s our punishment for getting the best room. And for not— how did Yuzuri put it?— using it to its fullest.”

“W-well, you’d think they’d have a little more professional pride in displaying their work.” The caps on the canisters put up a fight— Shidan had said they might after they came off the plane, something about pressurization and vacuums and other physics concepts she only had a casual acquaintance with through undergrad— but Shirayuki’s happy for the excuse to be doing something when she adds, “You can if you want to, you know.”

One of Obi’s posters pops open with all the subtlety of gunshot. “Uh, want to run that by me again, Doc?”

“I just mean if you wanted to brings someone back and…er…take advantage of all the…amenities…?” She strives to be casual, to be cool, like it’s none of her business what he might get up to unattended. Like she hadn’t bitten her nails clear down to quick under the covers when he was out with Haki’s friend, slinking home well after midnight. “Just let me know.”

“Me?” he coughs. “Really? And just what would you do?”

She shrugs her shoulders, striving for the kind of calm Obi exudes on an everyday basis. “I’m sure Yuzuri wouldn’t mind some company.”

One of his eyebrows creeps to a skeptical altitude. “If she isn’t taking advantage of her own amenities.”

“O-oh, well!” She shakes her head, trying to look anywhere but at him. “She won’t take anyone back to her room, so, uh, that might be even better, if you think about it. Someone using it, at least.”

Air hisses out through his teeth with no hint of his usual humor. “Listen, Doc, really, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not really…” He shakes his head, one hand scrubbing at the bristle in back. “I mean, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not in the market for…”

He hesitates, eyes narrowing. “Ryuu?”

Shirayuki blinks, tracing his gaze under the table, to where Ryuu is curled up, travel pillow under his head. He shrinks further into his pillbug position, managing a bleak, “Hi.”

“Hey there, big guy.” Obi crouches, folding his arms over his knees casually, like people hang out under tables all the time. “Me and Doc were just out here putting up the posters. What’s up with you.”

“Not much.” He shifts, blue eyes searching both their faces before he admits, “They lost my reservation.”

Shirayuki squats down beside him, brow drawn. “Excuse me?”

“They don’t have a record of my transaction in their database,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the soft microfiber of his pillow. “Even the manager tried. But it looks like even th payment didn’t go through. They think it might be because I’m not— well, an adult is supposed to make the reservation, and I was the only one in the room, and with no legal guardian…”

His nose wrinkles, mouth pursing mulishly before he blurts out, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay with us.”

It takes a moment for Shirayuki to realize it’s not her voice saying the words, but Obi’s. He glances at her, and anyone else might be looking for permission, but there’s only confidence there, so certain that she was only a slip of the tongue behind him, that they were single in purpose, and—

And it’s stupid it took her until graduation to realize that this is what she’s been wanting.

“Really?” Ryuu perks, head lifting off the pillow.

“Of course.” Shirayuki knows better than to reach out, to try to comfort him through something as offensive as touch, so she just smiles instead, hoping her sincerity shines through. “We’d be happy to have you.”

He glances between the both of them. “You’re— you’re sure it’s okay?”

“Why not?” Obi says, casting her some rueful side eye. “Now that we know we have a couch, we’re made of room.”

Ah, that’s right. The couch. The couch Obi was going to sleep on…

“Guess it’s a good thing that bed could fit a small country,” Obi mutters, getting to his feet— and then freezing. “Can I help you?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Shirayuki scramble to her feet, but if the voice isn’t familiar, the man who speak with it is even less so. “You’re part of Shidan Weise’s lab, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She brushes off her skirt, trying to look somewhat presentable. Like a colleague, instead of someone who spends conferences crouching under tables. “We were just setting up for the poster session. Is there something…?”

“Ah, no, no. I’m not here about the posters.” The man smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. “My name is Shuu Grately. I’m here to tender an invitation.”

Obi’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Invitation?”

“On behalf of Eisetsu Rugilia.” One corner of his mouth hooks, humorless. “He would like you to come to his dinner tonight.”

[theresatmgsongforthat]

Is there a mountain goats song for when you see a creature and get to go !!!! A creature !!!! A mountain goats song for when theres a cat or bee on your walk you know

there's a mountain goats song for that!

[therentyoupay]

#24 JUST SAY IT JELLSAAAAAA ARTGHHHAHAHNSNNEMWMEMWJAJHAJAHAHHAHA

On July 1st, the lonely house at the top of the mountain was finally sold.

— In which Jack(son) Overland tries his best to befriend his neighbor, one woodworking project at a time. { neighbors-to-lovers!fic, modern-mountain-living!au }

Prompt from @aicosu: Three-word sentences: "Just say it."

ao3 ❆

[snowflop]

Starting to think computers are actually the work of a dark and twisted demonic force.

[liquidstar]

forever thinking about the wonderful subawaal-sama statue.

[bluejaybytes]

I understand that games being buggy at release is a bad thing, and it frustrates me that, especially with bigger games, you have to wait for weeks, even months after release for the kinks to be ironed out, when they should be releasing at that quality in the first place.

But at the same time, release week HFW briefly teleported me into a world where I was a poorly written creepypasta protagonist and I will never fault it for that. For some reason, instead of the cutscene triggering for the boss fight against Asera, it put me in the boss arena with... Erend's... corpse. Just his straight up corpse. Dead body in the snow, no boss, no nothing. It wasn't "he's stunned and out of battle" like it was literally just Erend Fucking Died. Okay. Goodbye I guess

[elegyofthemoon]

listen i also think 2b is hot but also i am very very tired of walking into the tags every now and then only to see sexy art of her this is not what im here for im here for the existential crisis

[agenttexsflippedshit]

Real time picture of me looking at my story planning board and realizing that I just reinvented fucking tokyo ghoul

[commanderfreddy]

i never remember to explain shit anymore i just vaguepost and expect people to catch up but i finally have good news, we've made a lot of progress with my parents' estate (they both ran their own businesses and you know those images of nightmare cable management? well imagine that with bank accounts) and i actually have money now - im taking a trip to Aotearoa NZ with my mate Jules next week (dark sky reserve! lotr filming locations! snow! FOOD!) and then in august i will be moving to nyc to pursue a 2 year masters degree in library science with a focus on rare materials archival studies!! shits happening in my life!! im not just sitting in my house doing nothing all day!! and like i said i have money!! if you're taking commissions lmk bc while im focused on my getaway for the next few weeks i wanna support my friends and their art and when i get back i wanna throw u cash to draw my ocs!!

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Just gotta say, I’m realizing that how people discuss the Jon-Gilly situation is essentially how fandom has chosen to interpret Jaime and the trebuchet baby…there’s an interesting discussion to be had there, but this fandom just wants to focus on the extremely wrong thing in either scenario. Oh nuance, how I weep for you.

[caramelcoconutswirl]

Okay, so the new hunger games is so bad actually i mean i knew it would be trash but this is just sad

[wayfinderships]

Y'all ever think about the fact that Panchi's signature weapon in 13-2 is an Axe and how Snow's render in LR is him holding a frozen axe? Because I do. I think about it a lot actually-

[victorluvsalice]

And, well, at first, everything remained hunky-dory for a while -- Victor continued harvesting the greenhouse, safe and snug in his winter coat; Alice continued her meditation -- having a BIT of trouble with her levitation, but it's all fine, she got her feet back under her quickly, metaphorically speaking -- and Smiler moved from push-ups to bonsai pruning, giving the little tree a windswept shape and getting up to Gardening level 8 in the process! :) I thought everyone was going to wait out the weather just fine --

And then I saw Clement going outside for some reason. For a split second, I thought he'd FINALLY decided to go home...but then I saw a cake in his thought bubble.

And then I saw Toothy. In the front yard. In the middle of the blizzard.

With its cake tongue sticking out.

...I am not gonna lie, I was tempted to just let things play out for a moment. XD Because the first chomp never kills a Sim, only drains their emotions, and I was pretty annoyed with Clement for refusing to take a hint and leave. But I quickly decided, "No, I can't let that happen to Father Winter" and instead had Alice stop her meditation, activate her werewolf super-speed, call Clement into the hallway before he could get any farther --

And then ZOOM over to Toothy to feed the damn thing while Clement went back inside the house. XD Disaster averted! After that, though, I thought, "Okay, I want to open the store anyway, maybe it's time to get out of here before Clement gets into something ELSE he shouldn't--"

But then I saw Shadow coming into the house absolutely FILTHY after doing her business, and went, "Okay, FIRST the dog gets a bath." XD So Smiler took her upstairs and gave her a good scrub while Victor and Alice hung out downstairs, Alice licking herself clean (to Clement's disgust -- you see, that's why you don't get to live here, you're too judgemental about the werewolf stuff) and having synchronized kitten pets with Victor. XD Soon, though, all the pets and humans were clean and content -- which meant it was time to head off to San Myshuno!

[greenvillainredemption]

Everyone complaining about the new swoc (snow white of color) but trick r treat did it first and nobody said a damn thing