#unseasonable snow

[jepergola]

New story today: "Easter Blizzard"

[awkward-parabuteo]

A little snack to conclude the season 🐭

[chaoscommittee]

Today's small bliss: the space heater I bought for my office. I'm COLD

[liesmyth]

another jock question: it’s too icy for me to run outside right now and I don’t have a treadmill. should I just skip a few days? run around my apartment? what do you when the weather sucks?

I live in Italy! So I still go out when the weather sucks, but my standards for "this weather sucks and it's SO cold and I'm being SO brave about it" are, like, any temperature at which I can see my breath, and I make a huge fuss about it. I wouldn't survive one day in the heart of true winter.

Some ideas:

Bundle up and go for a walk! This is less about doing cardio and more about it being good for your mood. If you're like me, being coped up inside all day even when the weather is tragic is worse than putting on a rain jacket and a scarf and wandering around for half an hour, even if you're not getting any sort of exercise. Just smell the air! Feel the wind! If it's your thing, the mental benefits of being outside >>>> the inconvenience of shitty weather.

Indoor workout! If you just want to burn some steam, you can just free up some space in your home and do stuff like 1) cardio workouts or callisthenics 2) in-depth full body stretch or mobility work 3) some cool bodyweight progression / stuff you've always wanted to try (all these links go to youtube vids I like). Personally, I'm team "If I have to take a rest day I'd better make it count" so I like to do stretching and mobility and pretend I'm the kind of person who regularly remembers to do it. Then I take a bath and just chill <3 all the stuff I don't actually have the time to do on days I go to the gym.

Just Do It (run). I only recommend this if you're in the kind of climate where "cold" means 0° to -5° (30 to 23F if you believe in freedom) and not, like snowstorms. In that case, I recommend a thermal shirt (I like these from declathon's football section lol) a light rainjacket, a scarf / neckwrap that can double up as headgear, and gloves if necessary. You start feeling cold but it won't matter 10 minutes in. Make sure to finish your run close enough to your house that you won't chill getting there.

[61below]

I spent SIX HOURS smelling my beautiful cassoulet stewing (read: beans and pork and bacon ends and wild rice sausage and chicken) and I finally ATE IT but the tragedy here is I cannot eat another bowl bc I am now a STUFFED GOOSE

[sob-dylan]

why did i choose to go to grad school in a place with real winters. and who the fuck invented snow.

[sucklett]

the amount of snow we've been getting lately is soul healing tbh

[rannadylin]

Oh! I have a favorite cartoon for this!

I'm curious:

rb for sample size, you know the drill.

also, please tell me your local stock comments for small talk about the weather.

[beaquinlan]

Turning up the heat is like turning up the brightness or the volume on my phone. Oh, it's luxury we're after today, ok, cool.

[flawseer]

On Mudwing Culture

My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:

Mudwings are seriously into food.

I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.

But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.

The State of Food Preparation on the Continent

Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.

There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.

More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.

And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.

Why is that, and how did it happen?

Historical Benefits of Cooking

Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.

Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.

As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.

So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.

Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.

The Role of Food in Mudwing Society

If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.

Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.

Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.

And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.

Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.

If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.

Is there any evidence for this in the books?

To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.

I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.

I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.

[messenger-of-babel]

A Perfect Gift

Summary: Last minute Christmas shopping with Tim, and you can't decide what to get him. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: Interesting posting schedule coming up- so be warned! I can't believe I didn't write more for Tim in Angstober?? Guess I'm gonna have to write him some unseasonal angst in the future.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Come on, surely you know what to get them." You laugh at Tim as you walk along the streets of the shopping district in Gotham, hands interlocked and swinging gently. He puffs out his cheeks, shaking his head defeatedly. "I do not. That's why you're here." he argues.

"Why don't you try getting them something they don't have? Something useful?"

"Babe. They're Waynes. There is not a single thing here that they need or haven't already bought themselves." he points out with a sigh, his blue eyes flicking over the boutique mannequins as you walk past.

You hum. "That's true." you say as you reach a hand out to pick some snow from his hair, the soft white powder beginning to fall from the sky once again. It had snowed earlier in the day, leaving everything in a blanket of white, but in true Gotham fashion it had turned to brown icy sludge within hours. "It just means that we need to find something that they didn't know they needed."

With a tug on his hand, you pull him into a store, bell ringing softly as you entered the warm display room. Little did Tim know that you were looking for something for him as well. He had been teasing you since the start of the month, saying that he had already picked out something for you and that you were going to love it. You had responded almost immediately, competitive and determined to get him an equally good, if not better, gift. However now it was only a few days before Christmas, and you were still empty handed. Not only that, but it was also going to be your first Christmas with the Waynes. Your family had decided to have a location Christmas, opting to try out a warmer Christmas for once and escape the cold grasp of Gotham. You had been invited, but who could refuse spending a Christmas with Tim?

You caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, studying his expression. He was chewing his lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the store anxiously. It was almost like you could hear the gears in his head turning, trying to scan for something that his brothers and sisters would like. You decide it's time to strike, pulling him in further with you.

"See anything you like?"

His eyes flick to you, but he only hums low in his throat. "I don't think Jason would like anything here. Dick might, but I don't know his sizes. And that watch over there," he points to one in a display. "I was going to get Bruce that, but Duke said he already got it for him. If we check the women's I might find something for Steph or Babs, Cass would probably not like anything from that section, it's not really her style. Oh, but Stephanie will probably get offended if I pick clothes and get it wrong, so definitely not that-"

You sigh as he rambles, the stress in his eyes resurfacing. You try to trace the store where he looks, hoping to catch sight of something that he looks at for more than three seconds.

The first store is a bust for you both, and you venture back into the cold.

You always had trouble with giving Tim gifts. Really, what could you buy for the son of a billionaire who had everything he could ever want? It seemed like the amount of trouble Tim was having with his family was the exact same issue you were having with him. You let out a sigh, anxiety building in your chest.

When you and Tim had first met, you weren't even sure if he liked you. You were study partners in university, who weren't even taking the same classes. Was sharing the same table at the same time in the library considered a first date? You couldn't even call it the talking stage, considering the library was pin silent at all times. If anything, the talking was done through small smiles and tiny nods. His first present to you had been before you had even been dating.

You had rocked up to the library for the new semester to pick up your textbooks and pay off the balance for it, only for the librarian to tell you that someone by the last name 'Drake' had come in earlier to pay for his and your own. Shocked you had piled them into your arms, not knowing who your mysterious donor was until you saw the sticky notes and familiar scribble on top. "Hope to see you around again this semester- Tim Drake.'

You had dated shortly into the new semester, and since then he had been the perfect gift giver. Six-month anniversary he got you an engraved tag pendant with the names of your close family members that lived outside of Gotham, after you had told him how you wished you could see them more. In comparison you had saved up for a watch that cost you around $200, and you had been really proud of it.

Yet that was crushed the first time you went to his place, and you saw the watch box of luxury timepieces, all engraved with nice messages. Most of them were from Bruce, but there was a nicely worn one (clearly a favourite) signed off by Alfred. Since then, you had felt this low embarrassment whenever he wore the watch you gave him. Despite your gentle protests he never took it off, even if it didn't go with his outfit that night or glinted garishly in the flash of the paparazzi camera. So, this time, you wanted something perfect.

As the evening drew on you had managed to help him get the perfect gifts for everyone, his arms slowly filling with shopping bags. You had suggested getting Haley something and gifting to Dick, so you had gone to a pet boutique and bought a new black and blue collar, with a sturdy lead to match knowing how strong she could be at times. You couldn't help but throw a scarf in there for her too.

Damian (who Tim was begrudging to get a gift for but still didn't want to leave him out) received some treats for Titus alongside a set of new sketching pencils since the youngest Wayne had been running out, yet too busy as Robin to refill them just yet. You both had taken a decent amount of time trying to remember what brand he liked, knowing that there would be a barbed backhanded comment coming your way if you didn't get the right ones.

Jason got a new leather satchel that would fit nicely on his bike and was weather proofed. You didn't expect more than a gruff thanks aimed in your direction, considering his aloofness (you weren't sure if he wasn't a fan of you in particular or if he was just uncomfortable being in the manor in general). But you snuck a notebook in there when Tim wasn't looking, hoping to win over the gruff brother.

'For when you have late stakeouts' you had written on the front, signing your name after. 'So, you can put down your writing, so you don't forget it.'

Duke got a new box of booster packs for the card game he was collecting, and thankfully your university friend let you know that the new series had just landed, meaning there was a good chance that Duke hadn't gotten his hands on it yet. Cass was given a year's membership to the Gotham City Art Gallery, which also allowed her to go late at night with fewer members of the public if she wanted a quieter experience. Steph and Barbara got given gift packs from the spa they often visited together, as well as a bottomless brunch in the new year at their favourite cafe. Alfred had been tricky, but you suggested a new tea set for his personal use. It was simple, white with very little flourishes, but you had gotten his name printed in fine gold on the teacups. Something that belonged only to him.

Then it had been trying to find something for Bruce himself. You had gotten stuck with that yourself. The most you had been able to do was settle for a nice handwritten card from the both of you, alongside a vintage bottle of port. Bruce could buy that himself a thousand times over if he wished, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Despite the thoughts that 'counted', you were still lost on what to get Tim for Christmas. You had run through everything in your mind, and everything he looked at. Yet his face was mostly indifferent as he focused on shopping for everyone else, making it near impossible for you to gauge his interest in things. Finally, as you were headed back to the pick-up spot so he could call Alfred, you dug your heels into the pavement. He bounced back lightly, your joined hands stopping him from going any further.

"Are you okay?" he asks, bags bouncing in his arms.

"What do you want for Christmas?" you ask bluntly. The stress was reaching its peak, surprising him be damned. You don't know you could face the embarrassment in front of everyone if you got him something that he didn't like. Tim tilts his head, eyebrows pinching together.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," you take a deep breath. "What do you want? there's not much I can give you that you can’t get yourself, or that the others aren't going to give you. So, what's one thing that I can give you that others can't?"

He takes a moment before putting the bags down on the ground and giving you a soft smile. He wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you lightly. "You."

your heart thuds at the proximity and the tenderness in his voice, his eyes searching yours. "And not in that way. I just want to spend Christmas with you. Make that house feel more like a home. Make the manor a little less haunted. That's all I could ever ask from you, silly."

he bumps his forehead against yours, making you chuckle breathily. His lips graze across yours lightly, but before you could lean forward there was a honk of Alfred arriving.

Tim pulls back, leaning down to grab half of the bags while you grabbed the others. "Come on," he gestures with a tilt of his head. "You can join us for dinner. Alfred makes the best Sunday roast."

As you watched him slide into the car, the ball of worry dissipated in your chest. You settled on a gift for him.

If home is what he wanted, then surely a locket of you two would be a portable sanctuary.

[chthonicathenean]

What is this, 1991?

Just got a "severe weather alert" for snow in the morning, and I just

ID: a gif of Kitty Forman from That 70's Show pouring alcohol into a blender while shaking her head.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil, is still snowing by you? 🌨️❄️❤️

No! It's unseasonably warm right now -- 60 F or 15.5 C. Very odd for February the 10th.

[oceantornadoo]

silence is how simon riley falls in love with you.

you’re a talker most of the time, cracking jokes and making small quips. talking about the mission ahead or giving orders to young recruits. you talk on the phone with your family back home, your low murmurs traveling under your door and through your walls. but silence is how he falls in love.

when the base gets its first snow all season, a cold december day, he watches your face grin towards the sky in the pure silence that comes when snow blankets everything. you stick out your tongue with glee, and he falls in love for the first time.

it’s a lonely january night, and you insisted on playing “fire crackling” youtube videos in the common room. something about it feeling like home, some insistent need within you that you play off as a joke. you fall asleep to the sounds of logs crackling and simon’s breathing, your cheek making contact with his shoulder. he takes in the silence, and falls in love again.

fast forward to valentine’s day, and somehow gaz and soap decorated the hallway while everyone was asleep. they slid valentines from secret admirers under doors, purely to stir up things around base. simon watches you step out of your room and bend down to read the valentine, all tired eyes and ruffled pajamas. he takes in the growing blush on your face and the silent pursing of your lips, as if you’re trying to hide a smile. he catches his own name in soap’s handwriting on the card, and now he knows he’s fallen hard.

it’s a sunny march day when he finally tells you. unseasonably warm, even for where you’re stationed. you convinced him to go on a morning run outside, taking in the birds chirping and the sounds of creatures stirring. you watch the sun rise together in silence, sitting at the top of a nearby hill. he takes your hand in his to get your attention, silent shock written on your face. slowly, so slowly it kills him and brings him back to life in a single breath, he raises it to his gloved mouth. he gives you all the time in the world to stop it, begging you to put him out of his misery. instead, you watch him give your palm a gloved kiss, feeling his warm breath in the roots of your body. you reply with a hesitant peck to his gloved lips, still not sure if you read his silence right. but you did - you always do. and that’s why simon riley loves you.

—

if any of the military logistics were incorrect pls ignore thank u! this writer has no clue how anything works, she’s just in love with ghost😗

[shushmal]

steddie + cold ❄️

Eddie's in love with an absolute toddler of a man.

It's the first real snow of the season and Eddie thankfully got the tire-chains out yesterday—his beautiful, wonderful, usually super independent boyfriend, however? Did not.

So Eddie is being treated to the rare opportunity of being the hero today. Steve's got a shift in a couple of hours and there's several inches of unseasonable snow on the ground, and Steve had called and asked Eddie if he could give him a ride. Eddie—pleased that his usually super independent, infuriatingly-refuses-to-ask-for-help boyfriend has, for the first time, asked Eddie for something, finally—is happy to oblige.

And Eddie, being the best boyfriend he can manage, leaves a few hours early for Steve's house with a thermos of hot chocolate and the plans to make lunch with Steve before he takes him to work.

Of course, because Eddie is dating the world's silliest man, he pulls up to the Harrington house to find Steve already outside.

Still in his pajama pants. Building snowmen.

"Hey," Steve says, blinking at Eddie like he's confused. His nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold—or maybe from embarrassment. The snowman family is already four bodies strong and one of them has a messy pine straw mane of hair and is holding stick hands with the only plain, unadorned one of the group. "You're— Early."

"I am," Eddie agrees. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Thought we'd have lunch together."

Steve immediately brightens, excited. "Oh, awesome, I didn't even realize it was afternoon already!" He pauses, looking sheepishly at his art project. "Uh, let's go inside?"

Eddie snorts, "Sure, baby," and graciously doesn't comment on the snowmen. "You gotta be cold."

"Nah," Steve says. He does at least have on a jacket and gloves, boots. "Just, first snow, you know?"

"Sure," Eddie says, agreeable. Steve turns his back on Eddie, heading back up to the front door—his first mistake. "Gotta keep that childhood magic alive."

Because, if Steve's a giant man-child, Eddie is a public menace. Steve doesn't get a chance to reply, or really even two steps away, before the snow ball hits him square in the back of his head.

He turns back around, slowly, and the grin spreading across Steve's face is absolutely breathtaking. "You're going to regret that."

Eddie takes off shrieking, laughing, with Steve right on his heels.

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

What comic is the one where Len makes it snow for Barry?

It's from the short "Christmas: Cold and Fast" from the holiday anthology Tis The Season To Be Freezin'

On an unseasonably warm evening before Christmas, Len is ringing a bell dressed as Santa on a street corner calling for donations to help the less fortunate. A Banker Type makes fun of him, and Len steals his watch, but Barry zips in to take it.

The two squabble, Barry questioning whether any of the money is going to anyone who actually needs it, and Len explains that he was going to use it to hire some people to help him with something. He (after arguing back and forth over it for almost a whole page) convinces Barry to open a truck...

Which is filled with toys.

Len was originally going to sell them all, but he decided instead to give them to kids in need.

Barry then asks Len to give the people of Central City a Christmas miracle

by freezing the ice rink for the tree lighting ceremony.

Len agrees on one condition...

That Barry wears his Santa suit.

Barry races around Central delivering toys (Pretty much all Flash themed, which makes me wonder if he keeps a warehouse of his own merch...), then they meet up on top of a building to watch people skate.

(Yes, Len just jumped off the roof of five storey building. What a dramatic little shit.)

Also, there's a short in DC Rebirth Holiday called A Flash Christmas Carol that tells the story of how the Rogues and Flash started a holiday truce so Barry can make sure kids in foster care don't miss out on presents. This was Len's idea, and he gave up a big score to make sure it happened.