#yes I looked up the ingredients for gatorade

[dragonairice]

Rich: do you remember yesterday when you told me 'hey Rich don't try to jump off the staircase onto a mattress because that's not going to end well'? Michael: Oh no ~ Rich: If LEMONADE is made out of LEMONS, then GATORADE- Michael: is made out of Water, Sugar, Dextrose, Citric Acid, Natural and Artificial Flavor, Salt, Sodium Citrate, Monopotassium Phosphate, Modified Food Starch, Glycerol Ester of Rosin- Rich: how the hell do you know all that Michael: You've made that joke at least once a day, it was about time someone came up with a response

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie | Part 1: The Convenience Store

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Femme Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Tension, Hero Situations, Eijiro Kirishima is a Pro Hero

Link to My Master List 😬

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie

Part 1: The Convenience Store

It is a rainy Tuesday night and you are absolutely exhausted from work. On your way home to your apartment, you decide to stop by a local bodega for some junk food. You have been looking forward to binge watching a trashy reality TV show all day long, and some potato chips would be the perfect snack to munch on as you enjoy the juicy TV drama.

The bodega’s glass sliding door opens with a squeak as you hastily fold up your dripping umbrella. You shiver as the cool store AC hits your wet skin, and goose bumps flare across your bare arms. The day had started out deceptively warm, and you hadn’t dressed for the weather. You are deeply regretting the choice to wear the navy sleeveless dress that is now clinging to your body and dripping a puddle onto the dull bodega carpet. Oh well – you will be home in just a few minutes and will be able to step into a hot shower soon enough.

You grab a shopping basket and wander the aisles, eager to satiate your cravings for salty crisps. The store is unusually empty for the hour – the sudden rain must have kept most people inside. The only other people present are the elderly cashier, and a man pursuing the energy drinks in one of the freezers. The other patron is keenly focused on a bottle of purple Gatorade - intently reading the ingredient list on the drink’s packaging. You pay no attention to this other customer as you locate the snack aisle and load up your basket with chip bags boasting a variety of fun flavors (BBQ chips?? Yes please!). The aisles are tall – stacked ceiling high with boxes and bags containing every flavor of chip one could imagine.

SMASH! A loud crash reverberates throughout the tiny store, followed by the sound of small objects scattering across the vinyl floor. A deep voice booms out: “This is a hold up. Give me all the money in that register. And make it quick – I don’t think either of us wants any trouble.” You freeze; blood running cold in your veins as you quickly put the pieces of the situation together.

“I swear old man – I’ve got a special quirk that will make your life all kinds of painful unless you Hand. Over. The. Cash.”

You move slowly along the aisle, looking for a gap in the snack shelves so you can better assess the situation. Through a small space between cereal boxes, the situation comes into view – the man that you had seen shopping for sports drinks is now standing menacingly over the check out counter. He is around six feet tall with sharp features; a simple black domino mask obscured his eyes. Clad entirely in black, he stands with his right arm gripping the linoleum countertop, the other poised grotesquely above the cashier’s balding head. It takes you a moment to put together exactly what you were seeing – the villain’s right arm was a gigantic crab claw! If the situation weren’t so tense, you would have died from laughter. The scene is ridiculous – the man’s arm (claw) is twice the length of a typical human arm and had a bright, shiny red hue. This kind of mutation quirk always gives you a start – the unnatural way the man’s body blends seamlessly with the extra large claw is uncanny.

            The shop cashier looks up at the villain with terror in his eyes. He seems absolutely frozen on the spot as the masked robber clicks his claw menacingly. With a start, you notice that the inside of the claw is wickedly sharp. The villain flashes it dangerously towards the cashier’s neck to drive a sense of urgency.

            You assess your options. Your quirk isn’t particularly powerful, but it definitely has some use here. If you could just get a little bit closer to the situation, you could probably use it to distract the villain long enough to get the cashier out of harm’s way. You stretch out your hand to activate your quirk, but stopped dead when you feel a warm, rough hand clamp around your mouth from behind.

You try to scream, but the sound comes out muffled. Adrenaline floods your veins as you prepared to fight for your life. You hadn’t heard someone sneak up behind you, and you squirm in an effort to get away. An arm reaches out to steady you, and it’s owner whispers: “Sorry to startle you – I’m here to help.” The soft, gravely voice sends a fresh wave of goose bumps down your chilled skin. You turn to see one of the year’s top heroes - the Red Riot - crouched over you in the snack aisle. You’d recognize that trademark red spiky hair anywhere. Your body starts to relax a bit – things are under control and a hero is here!

Over the past few years, Red Riot has been making quite a name for himself in the media as a dependable, chivalrous hero. You’ve often watched his battles and rescues play out on the television – not only was he a skilled hero, but also he was kind and genuine. His interviews were your favorite – he always found such nice things to say about his teammates and the people he rescued. And he wasn’t bad to look at either.

He’s clearly not on duty – his usual simple costume has been traded in for a black t-shirt, jeans and a soft red hoodie. Your heart skips a beat. He’s so totally hot. When he realizes you’re not going to scream and give away his position to the villain, he releases you from his embrace. He smiles reassuringly, and the warmth of his grins reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to get you out of this.” He promises.

For a second there, you completely forgot about the convenience store hold up occurring feet away from where the two of you were crouched. Your senses are clouded by the closeness of Red Riot, who is still holding you steady with his muscular arms. When he realizes his touch is lingering a bit longer than necessary, he quickly pulls away. He shifts to peer over your shoulder through the small cereal box window. The movement brings him ever so slightly closer to you, and you find yourself inhaling the sweet scent of clean laundry. You lean the tiniest bit closer to him.

But back to the situation at hand – you can hear the crab clawed villain barking commands at the cashier. He wants all the money from the register as well as a roll of lotto tickets. He must be either extremely overconfident or incredibly good at crime – because this man is taking his time! Red Riot scowls as he watches the scene unfold. You can see his body tensing as he prepares for a confrontation. With a look of determination, he turns to you and whispers “stay quiet and out of sight. I’m going to go distract the villain and try to de-escalate the situation. If things get physical – run. There’s a dumpling shop across the street – get someone there to call the police.”

His red eyes bore into your own. There’s something so intense and hot about him. You feel a strange connection pulling you closer to this man, closer to the heat of his body.

            “W-wait.” You whisper. “I can help!”

            You point to the man with the crab claw – he still has the Gatorade bottle in the pocket of his pants. To his left you see a palette of energy drinks waiting to be restocked. “With my quirk I can control small amounts of liquid. I can distract him by levitating all those energy drinks at once. I’ll suspend them in the air and bring them all crashing down on top of him, giving you time to get the cashier out of harm’s way.”

            Red Riot smiles appreciatively. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like that. I’ll handle this on my own. Just keep quiet and get across the street, okay?”

            You make a face. You don’t understand why he won’t let you help. After all, the villain seems untrained and unfocused. His claw hand can’t do much damage to a bunch of small, moving targets.

            “Trust me.” Red Riot reaches for your hand. He places the pads of your fingers on his palm. You can feel him activating his hardening quirk beneath your fingers as his skin slowly becomes rougher. “I was built for this.”

            You nod, unable to argue. His quirk makes his skin feel smooth and strong like the bark of an oak tree. You press your fingers lightly into the center of his hand, but there’s no give. Reflexively, he closes his fingers around your own, causing electricity to shoot through your hand at the intimate touch. Red Riot’s eyes widen, an apology already at his lips. You quickly slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Good luck, Red Riot.” You tap the hardened skin on his forearm. “You’re right – definitely built for this.”

            He grins, seemingly basking in the compliment.

            “That’s right – just leave this to me!” He whispers back. “Stay safe, okay?”

Red Riot army crawls down the aisle. You watch as he slowly steps out from behind the shelves and approaches the counter confidently, grabbing a bag of BBQ chips on the way. The poor cashier is now filling a grocery bag with money from the register as the crab armed villain hulks over him, sneering and clicking his claw. The villain doesn’t even seem to hear Red Riot approaching him from behind.

            In two strides, Red Riot closes the distance and reaches out to tap the villain on his crabby shoulder.

            “Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the counter. Other people want to check out.” As he says this, he pointedly tosses his bag of chips onto the shiny linoleum counter.

            The crab villain whirls around, face full of fury. His eyes widen and his face contorts in fury when he realizes whom he’s talking to. The villain wastes no time – he propels himself away from the counter, whirling his deadly sharp arm towards Red Riot.

Crack!

The arm makes contact with Red Riot’s rock hard skin. The hero smiles smugly, his right arm taking the brunt of the blow.

“Why don’t we take this down a notch, sir? I’m clearly a match for your quirk, and the police are already on their way. There’s no need to fight, we can just talk - ”

            The villain moves surprisingly swiftly, shifting around Red Riot’s outstretched arm and reaching to position his claw around Red Riot’s neck. The hero’s facial expression shifts to surprise – he wasn’t expecting a villain with such a cumbersome quirk to be able to move so languidly. The crab villain slowly starts to press down his claw around the hero’s neck. Red Riot is making a face that clearly says “Oh, shit.”

You turn and desperately reach your hand through the gap in the cereal box display, pointing your fingertips at the villain and willing your Quirk to activate. Almost instantly, the Gatorade bottle resting half full in the villain’s back pocket lifts into the air as all of the liquid rushes towards the top of the container. You focus all of your concentration on the bottle.

Unfortunately, you never had a lot of opportunity to train and refine your quirk as you had pursued an educational track that prioritized tech and computer skills over quirk competence. However, you had a grasp on the fundamentals of how your quirk worked – and you figured if you could just distract the crab villain for a moment, you could give Red Riot a chance to regroup.

The villain pressed his sharp claw further around Red Riot’s neck. You could hear an ominous cracking notice – and you hoped desperately that the sound wasn’t the hero’s thick skin crumbling beneath his assailant’s grasp. You began to feel a sickening mix of adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins and you try to renew your concentration. The liquid inside the bottle begins to boil – the water fizzing and popping in the small confined space. You shakily will the bottle to float up and behind the villain’s head.

Red Riot uses his hardened hands to try to break the villain’s grasp, but the crabby grip holds fast. The villain is intensely focused on trying to crush Red Riot’s windpipe, and so he is completely taken by surprise when the bottle of Gatorade explodes and hits the back of his head with a splash of scalding purple liquid. The villain howls in pain – both hands reflexively flying to cradle the back of his burned head. In his pain and fury, he unwittingly releases Red Riot from his grasp. The red headed hero is quick to take advantage of the situation – dropping to the ground and sweeping a strong leg beneath the villain’s own. The crab-clawed villain comes crashing to the ground with a large “thud.”

Red Riot wastes no time, dropping on top of the villain to pin disproportionate arms to the ground.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for armed robbery and for engaging in combat with a licensed hero. The police will be here shortly to take your statement - but in the meantime please stop resisting.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as Red Riot continues to hold the villain tightly to the ground. Behind the counter’s register, the convenience store clerk still stands frozen, holding a wad of bills in bills in a vice-like grip.

You hear the metallic slide of the store’s automatic doors followed by several pairs of heavy boots off to your right. Within a few seconds, a team of police officers comes into view, their starched blue shirts bright in the florescent lighting.

At the sight of the police, the crab villain finally seems to give up fighting – his body sagging to the ground beneath Red Riot. The hero holds his position, eyeing the villain’s mutant arm warily. Even from a distance, you can tell his hardening quirk is still activated – he isn’t taking any chances.

“Great job, Red Riot! We’ll take it from here.” A tall officer with a glinting badge steps forward and uses a length of metal cord to bind the villain’s large clawed arm. “We’ve been after this guy for weeks!”

Red Riot smiles as he steps back and lets the police team capture his assailant. He turns and meets your eyes through the space in the cereal box wall. He grins at you, his dark eyes wink a quick “thanks” in your direction as he detectives whisk him away for questioning.

“Miss – are you alright?” You let out a small squeak of surprise, turning to find a short female officer with a tight bun of dark hair coming around the corner of the aisle. You look down at yourself – crouching like a wild animal in a soggy, rain-drenched dress.

“I’ve definitely had better days.” You laugh, allowing the policewoman to help you to your feet. You feel the adrenaline slowly start to melt away, leaving you feeling shaky and a bit lightheaded. You can’t think of the last time you used your quirk, so you’re sure the little stunt you pulled to save Red Riot has impacted your stamina.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions about what happened here?” The officer asks, motioning for you to follow her to the front of the store where the crab villain is being checked for weapons.

“No, not at all!” You wrap your arms around yourself and attempt to bring some warmth back into your body.          

The police had a lot of questions. Apparently this villain had been evading them for quite sometime. He had been robbing convenience stores across several cities. He was quick, efficient, and sometimes even deadly – having injured half a dozen clerks and store patrons in his mad pursuit of cash.

“We heard that you used your quirk to get Red Riot out of a spot of trouble.” The policewoman with the bun taps a pen to a pad of paper thoughtfully. Her tone isn’t accusatory; she’s just stating facts. “The unsanctioned use of a quirk in combat is illegal, but since you were put in a potentially life threatening situation and you were in under the supervision of a pro hero, the Good Samaritan law should cover your actions today.”

 You feel the last bit of energy absolutely drain out of you and you reach out to grab a nearby store shelf for support. Illegal? The thought of breaking the law hadn’t even crossed your mind. You had just acted on pure instinct when you saw Red Riot in trouble. You start to shiver more violently as the weight of what you’ve done fully sinks in. The policewoman quickly waves to another officer and you find yourself being guided to a chair.

“Miss - it seems like you’re in shock. Please take some deep breaths and we’ll get you to a hospital shortly to get checked out, alright?” The officer pats your hand kindly and pockets her notepad. She walks out of view to call a medical team with her colleagues and you are momentarily left alone in the corner of the store. You stare at the ground, your head feeling fuzzy and cold. It was so stupid to use your quirk so recklessly like that! You admonish yourself silently. You’re sure that Red Riot could have gotten himself out of that bad situation given time – he was a top hero after all! You were just so worried and eager to help…

A soft material engulfs your shoulders. “You’re freezing! Here – take my sweatshirt.” You turn and see Red Riot standing behind you, his strong hands pressing his large red hoodie around your shoulders. He smooths the plush material around you, and you shiver at the contact.

“I couldn’t possibly take this!” You said weakly despite your body hungrily leaning into the warmth of his touch and the offered piece of clothing.

“It’s too late – it’s already yours. Consider it a thank you for saving me back there.” Red Riot grins, showing off a row of pointed teeth. You gratefully accept the gift – tucking your arms into the floppy sleeves. You’re practically swimming in sweatshirt.

“I really shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, ashamed. “You had the situation under control, and it was irresponsible to use my quirk like that. You even told me not to help earlier.” You shake your head, and then blush when you realize you’re probably showering the chivalrous hero in raindrops.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that at all! While it’s true that a Pro can always break out of a tough spot, someone once told me that ‘meddling where you don’t need to is the essence of a hero.’ You moved without thinking to help me when I needed it. That took guts.” His grin widens. “I’m so lucky that such a strong person was looking out for me from the cereal section.”

You laugh, cheeks blushing at the compliment. He’s just so…handsome, grinning roguishly at you with his deep, dark eyes.

“Your quirk is really strong, too. What was that – liquid manipulation? Have you ever trained your quirk?” You’re taken aback by the sincerity of his interest in your small little quirk.

“Not really – I had the standard quirk class in elementary school where we are evaluated and learn how to control the basics of each of our quirks. Beyond that, I never had much interest in it. I can make small amounts of liquid float, boil and freeze. It’s not particularly powerful, but I can make a mean pot of soup with it.” You smile, appreciating the attention you’re receiving from the hero. “I went to a specialty high school focused on business and marketing, so I pretty much avoided any quirk training or hero-focused track. Exploding that little Gatorade bottle was probably the crux of my power.”

“Well it was incredible! I feel like you’re really underselling yourself – I see so much potential in you and your quirk. With just a little training, I think you could really do some damage.” Red Riot says excitedly, talking animatedly with his hands. You laugh, picturing yourself in some ridiculous hero suit parading around the city splashing boiling water on legions of seafood-themed villains.

“Surprisingly, the hero life is just not for me!” You grin before a wave of shivers wracks through your body. Is this from shock? Or is it the damp cold of your rain soaked dress finally catching your attention.

Red Riot instantly notices your discomfort and shakes his head thoughtfully before saying: “Stay here a minute, I have an idea.” He scampers away and you’re left alone again. You focus on taking a few deep, calming breaths as you zip the hoodie up to your chin. You inhale deeply and realize that the red fabric smells comforting and sweet – a combination of mint and cedar wood. You deeply breathe in the scent of Red Riot, and you feel your panic ebb away. You’re steeped in exhaustion as you slouch against the hard plastic chair.

A moment later, Red Riot re-appears, holding a steaming Styrofoam cup. “I made you some peppermint tea.” He says shyly, holding out the hot cup. “It always makes me feel better after a fight – I thought it might do the same for you.”

You take the cup gratefully and tip it back for a sip. He holds out a hand to stop you. “Careful, it’s hot. Give it a second to cool so you don’t burn your mouth.”

“Thank you so much, Red Riot. I really appreciate all you’ve done today.” You’re too tired to care that you sound like a fan girl.

“Hey, call me Eijiro. After what we’ve been through together, we should be on a first name basis.” To your surprise, his cheeks tint pink as he shares his first name. You smile softly and share your own nickname. He repeats it back to you, seeming to like the way your name rolls on his tongue.

“It’s nice to meet you Eijiro.” You feel the warmth of the tea sinking into your icy hands.

“So what were you buying here at the store anyway? Let me go get you a cart and – oh, hold on!” He absentmindedly leans in close to you, reaching out to pull a stray wet strand of hair away from your face. He tucks it gently behind your ear. “We should really get you a hair dryer or something!” He laughs, “You’re still soaking wet!” Despite just having met, the touch is so intimate and familiar. You lean towards him, wanting him to touch you again with his strong, capable hero fingertips.

“Red Riot – the press is outside waiting to interview you.” A police officer calls over, snapping you both back to reality. “They’re eager to hear about how you apprehended the villain. For the sake of her privacy, let’s leave this young lady’s roll in the capture out of it.”

Eijiro snaps to attention, his hand still hovering close to your face. He turns to give the officer a thumbs up. “Sounds good to me! I’ll be right there.”

He moves to look at you again. His eyes are wide and his expression intrigued. “They’re going to take you to the hospital to make sure everything looks okay. They’ll probably keep you overnight for observation until you’re out of shock. I’m sure they’ll take good care of you, cutie.” He stands to walk out of the store. “Thanks for saving my life – I hope to hear from you soon!”

And with a wave, he strides away towards the press team waiting outside. You look down into your tea, confused and quietly delighted at his hope to hear from you. You have absolutely no idea how you would ever contact him again, but the sentiment and the term of endearment he had used is sweet. Ever the chivalrous hero.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of tests and scans and interviews with police officers and doctors alike. Despite your protests, an ambulance whisks you away to the closest hospital and you are kept under observation just as Red Riot - Eijiro ­- had predicted. The staff is courteous and sweet, praising you for your roll in the incident when the police officers tip them off. You’re given comfortable clothes to borrow and access to a hot shower adjacent to your hospital room.

When you finally sink into the hospital bed, it’s pitch black outside. You flick on the grainy old TV that’s mounted above your bed and flick through the channels until you stop to see a familiar face on the local news.

Red Riot is smiling down at you from the TV set, his eyes warm as he answers the questions of various reporters.

“I was just shopping for some ramen when I noticed the villain. Weird coincidence that I just happened to be at the same store as him!” The hero laughs, rubbing his hand behind his head. “I’m thankful to the store patrons and the clerk who stayed calm as I handled the situation.”

“Red Riot – did you have any difficulty subduing the victim?”

Eijiro pauses to think for a moment before carefully saying “There was a moment that he had the drop on me, but a really cute shopper distracted him for me and allowed me to get the upper hand.”

“You’re so humble, Red Riot. I’m sure you had everything under control.”

Eijiro shakes his head. “I don’t want to encourage recklessness, but I do want to make it clear that you don’t need to be a Pro to be someone’s hero. The woman who helped me today – her bravery and willingness to act even when things were scary is what true heroism looks like. I’m grateful to her, and I hope that I’ll be able to see her again soon.”

The reporters continue to fawn over Red Riot for a few more minutes – peppering him with more questions that he cheekily answers. He avoids revealing any additional details about you despite the reporter’s needling and prodding. Soon the news broadcast ends, and the anchor appears on screen and starts discussing upcoming movie releases.

You sit with your mouth gaping open. Had you really made such a lasting impression on the sturdy hero? You feel your heartbeat increase at the thought, causing the heart monitors strapped to your chest to peep and whir. A nurse appears at your side in an instant, and you bashfully explain to her that you are fine – just a bit overexcited from the day’s events. Once she is assuaged, you return to flipping through channels before settling on reruns of The Bachelor. This wasn’t the soapy TV series you had been looking forward to all day, but it was as close as you are going to get at this point. You let the show run and before long you are dozing in the propped up hospital bed, dreaming of seafood villains and heroes with bright hair and dark, endless eyes.

When you’re finally ready to check out from the hospital the next day, the nurse at the front desk presents you with your belongings. Your wallet, your high heeled work shoes, and an extra large bright red hoodie. “Oh – I forgot about this.” You gratefully accept the sweatshirt and shrug it on. It swings around you like a trench coat, fluffy and warm. You can still smell traces of cedar wood on the collar.

You walk out of the hospital and into a surprisingly sunny day, metallic sliding doors parting for you as you exit. You sink your hands into the hoodie’s overlarge pockets and are surprised to feel a rectangular square object tucked into the deep right pocket. Had Eijiro left a piece of gum in his hoodie? You fish it out with your index and pointer fingers – it’s a small folded up piece of paper ripped from a notepad. Upon closer inspection, you notice that it’s branded with the convenience store’s faded logo. You guess it was ripped from the clerk’s register notepad.

Curious, you unfold the small wad of paper. Written hastily across the note is a messy scrawl of digits and the words: Would love to take you to dinner some time, cutie. Thanks for rescuing me. – Eijiro.

            Oh my God. He gave you his number. A warm blush creeps up your face as your eyes run across the note over and over again. What a crazy 24 hours it has been! You reach into your purse to grab your phone. With shaky hands you add “Eijiro Kirishima” as a contact in your phone, adding a few rock emojis and a bright red crab emoji beside his name. He’d probably find that hilarious.

            You draft up a fresh text to the red headed hero and type: “In need of rescuing tonight – the villain: hunger and boredom. In need of a hero who knows the perfect ramen spot.” You hit send and hold your breath. What if he’s on patrol tonight? You worry. What if he was just being nice and doesn’t actually see you again?

            Your worries are totally baseless, because within seconds you have a reply: “I’m more than up for this mission – meet me in front of the convenience store at 8. Wear the sweatshirt so I’ll recognize you in the crowd?” He ends it with a winking emoji and your heartbeat quickens. You officially have a date set with Eijiro Kirishima – the Red Riot.

Your hero.

Thanks so much for reading!!!

---------------------------

Other Kirishima Stories:

Headcannon: Kirishima LOVES wearing Bakugo's clothes.

🦈❤️Boyfriend!Kirishima ❤️🦈

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima (A18+ - MDNI!!!) 💋

Link to My Master List 😬

[yerimbrit]

enchanted (or not) : k. minji

synopsis: nothing could go wrong with making a love potion, right? or whatever it is that danielle said.

# : pairing ! nonidol!kim minji x reader

# : tags ! reader's gender isn't mentioned, witch is a gender neutral term here, they're in school, fluff, crack, humans live with the supernatural whether they know it or not, it's not all that serious though, i stole the recipe from harry potter, bc who really has time to think of love potion ingredients (me but im lazy)

# : wordcount ! 2k

# : warnings ! none

love potions were things that kim minji used to read about in those unserious wattpad love stories. not something that she actually considered doing, for real.

that is, until, her idiot friends hanni and (though less than the former) hyein, brought up the idea after hearing minji blabber on about you for the fifth time in a single day. haerin and danielle, being a couple of yes-men, quickly agreed. they agreed to almost anything nowadays. maybe it was because hanni and minji were graduating this year.

"what even gave you the idea to make a love potion in the first place?" minji sighed out, rubbing her temple. they were currently in the chemistry lab, sitting around a comically large cauldron that hyein had gotten out of nowhere. seriously, that girl had too many connections. where on earth did she get a cauldron!? and it was huge, too. how did they manage to lug it into the lab?

haerin's mouth twitched. "they were snooping through my books and found a recipe book."

"why do you have a magic recipe book just lying around?"

she only shrugged. hanni nudged minji's shoulder and made an annoying shushing gesture. "shh, don't worry about it. don't you want y/n to," she held up finger hearts, "fall in love with you?"

"stop that," minji slapped hanni's hands away. she got a flimsy flick on the forehead from the shorter girl in a pathetic attempt to retaliate.

the flipping of pages interrupted the pair's little squabble. it redirected their attention to the front (or at least, their front; haerin and danielle's left and right, respectively) where hyein pulled out the recipe book in question.

"aha!" she exclaimed, blowing off the dust that was resting on the pages. it resulted in a coughing fit from all of them. just how old was the book? and it brought them back to minji's question: why did haerin just have this lying around?

"amortentia: the potion of love," hyein read out.

wait. "isn't that from harry potter? like, amortentia, the love potion?"

"shush, unnie."

she continued, underlining the next part of the description with her finger. "ingredients: ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, rose petals, and powdered moonstone," the youngest looked up from the book expectantly, "with that being said, let's go get the ingredients?"

"wait, where are you even going to—"

haerin cut minji off, standing up from her seat. she brushed invisible dust off of her shoulders and pressed her lips into a thin line. minji could see the teasing glint in her eyes. "i know where to get them."

"so do i!" danielle, who was practically bubbling with excitement, agreed. she linked her arm with haerin, who looked like she was five seconds from melting at her touch.

minji was speechless. appalled. petrified, even. her mouth opened and closed until she was able to get them back to their seats with a wave of her hand.

"how do you guys..." her eye twitched. she missed her caffeine intake for the day, which was amplifying the stressful situation. "...know that magic even, i don't know, exists?"

"haerin's a vampire! so they have to exist!" danielle blurted out.

"what?"

pfft. kang haerin, a vampire? likely story. sure, she never willingly went outside, and she always wore a hat and sunglasses when it was sunny outside, and sometimes minji could see a dribble of red left on her chin after she took a sip from her thermos (wasn't it just gatorade? though it was weird to keep it in a thermos.) but there was no way that haerin was a vampire. they didn't exis—

the "vampire" then opened her mouth and showed off her very... very sharp fangs.

"..."

"anyway, we're off now! watch the cauldron, don't let mr. park take it away, 'kay unnie?"

the rest of the group packed their things and left the lab. hanni stayed behind to close her same-aged friend's mouth, which was hanging agape. "you're gonna let a fly go in your mouth, bro."

kim minji had a headache.

over the course of 45 minutes, the girls came back one by one with the ingredients needed for the potion. of course, minji still had her doubts, even after the reveal of haerin being a vampire. one of her friends was a bloodsucker, so what? it didn't prove that magical potions also existed and worked.

she twirled the cork on the filled glass bottle in her hand. they were missing one ingredient (the powdered moonstone), but hyein got excited and convinced everyone to fill the bottle with the unfinished concoction before they headed to danielle's house to get moonstone from her dusty attic. granted, they were going to fill another bottle when they returned with the final ingredient, but who could resist the youngest's pleading eyes?

anyway, minji had thought she'd seen it all when she witnessed the liquid turn into gas after hanni read out some words in latin. like, seriously. it was swirling around in a pink mist in the glass bottle she was holding, right at this moment.

("bro, what was that you just said." minji deadpanned, looking just about done with everyone. except danielle, she was an angel. she could never stay upset at the australian for too long.

"it's what's supposed to make it so when the two people involved inhale the fumes that it turns into, just breathe in the effects," hanni explained, shrugging. "or at least that's what haerin said. but in her big girl words."

"do you even know what it translates to?"

"uh, no! do you think i'm like some sort of genius?"

"no."

"hey!")

after danielle and haerin's thorough explanation, she understood that it basically turned into a minecraft splash potion. and that the effects could only lock onto two people at maximum.

despite that, it was recommended to be alone with the person as you "accidentally" dropped the potion and broke it to release the gas.

all minji had to do was plan a day to do it, and therefore begin the procedure. she didn't want to force you to love her... thankfully, the effects would only last for a day, plenty of time for minji to fulfill her delusions before it all went away forever.

speaking of you, you were so... dreamy. you were charming, cute, and way out of her league. you were a popular student, straight a's and involved in many extracurriculars. minji, on the other hand, liked to keep with her group of five. and while she also held a perfect record, she really only involved herself with the journaling club because she was the president this year.

the two of you had met in chemistry in freshman year (ironic, wasn't it?) and were partnered for the whole year, inevitably leading to minji's development of romantic feelings. eventually, you started hanging out more and she even got to meet your family. once. at curriculum night. that counted, right? even if all she said was hello before she ran off to join hanni. jesus, she was a loser.

"hey, what's that?" a voice came from behind minji, startling her and causing her to drop the bottle.

"oh, shit!" she watched in horror as the potion in its obnoxious pink gaseous form floated up between you. her breath hitched, and the realization that she'd just breathed the gas in hit too late.

a silence fell over the two of you, and she was hit with a feeling that she hadn't experienced since your first meeting, captivated by your enchanting eyes in a way that felt like the first time. she was in a daze, your beauty sending her into a state of delirium.

and you were the same: staring at minji like she lit up the stars, mouth slightly agape and hands twitching.

this continued for another two minutes, until you finally broke out of it and into a laughing fit.

"wha—what," minji shook her head in bewilderment. did that just happen?

you rested your hand on her shoulder. she gulped.

"minji," you smiled, "was that supposed to be a love potion?"

"no—yes—wait, how'd you know?"

the smile dropped (minji pouted in her mind. your smile was so pretty.) from your face into a confused expression. why were you the confused one? weren't you laughing a good five seconds ago?

"...i'm a witch?"

"you're a what?"

you pointed to yourself like it was obvious, "a witch." minji wanted to hurl herself off of the four story school building. "i thought you knew?"

"no! how was i supposed to-" she sighed. "first it's haerin being a vampire, now you're a witch, don't tell me the next thing i'm going to find out for the first time is that dani's a fairy or something."

you raised up a finger, an innocent smile emerging, "actually, she's a werewolf."

"...you know what. i don't even wanna know anymore."

stepping over the broken glass, you took a seat next to the embarrassed girl, patting her on the back. "the potion would've worked, but i guess you were missing something... who was it supposed to be for? sorry i interrupted."

burying her face into her arms, which rested on a nearby table, she mumbled out a small, "you."

"me?" you widened your eyes, taken aback. then, you started giggling.

well fuck. that was basically a confession, and you were now laughing at her. nothing could save minji now. maybe one of your friends were listening in and she would become the laughingstock of the school for the rest of her life. maybe she should go beg her parents to move back to canada and stay there forever.

"minji," you tapped her head playfully. she raised her head just enough to reveal her red eyes. the sight made you frown and gesture for her to look up so you could wipe her freshly formed tears away.

"don't cry, why are you crying?"

"cause," she hiccupped. "you don't like me back."

you raised your eyebrows. "who said i didn't like you back?"

minji furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "then why'd you start laughing?"

"because, minji," you wiped another stray tear from her cheeks, "i just thought it was funny that you were making amortentia for me. you don't even need the potion because i like you too."

"you do...?"

words couldn't even describe what minji felt right now. you liked her back? you liked her back! holy shit, she could die happy. actually, she couldn't die right now. what about the apartment you would rent together after graduation and the dogs you'd adopt—actually, maybe you'd like cats better. did witches actually prefer cats? actually didn't even sound like a word anymore.

her monotone world was turned inside out in the span of a single day, and she ended up with the revelation of you reciprocating her feelings? score! she couldn't wait to brag to her friends about this. they would probably ask her (in astonishment, and minji would have a smug smirk on her face) how such a perfect being such as you would like a loser like minji. really, she should ask the same thing. why did you like a loser like minji?

anyway, that was beside the point. what minji should be paying attention to is your smile that could light up a thousand rooms.

"mhm. now let's get this all cleaned up and get some ice cream?"

minji nodded almost too enthusiastically. she almost had a tail wagging behind her at the mention of an ice cream date with you. her two favorite things!

("um... should we just go?"

"but what about the moonstone we just ground up? that shit was blinding as hell, don't tell me our efforts just went to waste."

"we went through all the trouble, including going to danielle's crusty dusty attic, just for them to get together without the potion?"

"i thought you guys thought my attic was cool!"

"i think your attic is cool."

"of course you would say that, haerin. whipped ass—ow!")

a/n : i felt bad for delaying lovergirl for so long (it's still delayed) so here's a little minji fic cus i missed her

[winterapocalypse]

Winter Apocalypse 54

The Potion

The footsteps of a gigantic beast answered her. Appearing from who knows where, an enormous creature resembling a huge turkey nine meters long entered the garden, with a huge cauldron in its beak. It was Pallina the Gigantoraptor of the Jogos Nai steppe, the pet of Aston and Dennis' equally enormous older brother, Ken, who followed her around. Ken was wearing his usual gray cap that had belonged to his grandfather from Lys, and one of his many jackets which, worn by him, seemed of normal size, and then abandoned on a chair where he often left them they looked like the size of circus tents . He wore shorts even in the harsh Northern winter weather, and sneakers even in the snow, but he didn't even seem to notice the cold. Perhaps he was too big even for the cold of the True Winter.

"Hi guys, Aston told me you need me!" Ken said brightly, with a pair of cups in his big arms, the ones fixed with Aston cup cement.

Pallina - so called because, Ken says, when she hatched from the egg she was just a little ball of feathers, but that had been at least twenty years earlier, when Ken was a baby and Aston and Dennis hadn't even been born yet. The Ravenclaw Quidditch coach placed the large cauldron on the ground, and Cesaro and Emily, who loved magical potions, did their utmost to help Ken prepare that mysterious potion.

"It's called 'prodigious tears of the Goddess of Lys', it's a potion widely used in Lys, where our mother comes from." Ken explained, as he explained to Cesaro the order of the ingredients, and to Emily the dose of them to put in the pot, and he calmly mixed. "This potion helps a lot with headaches and hangovers, and I think after yesterday's evening it will help you! You drank a lot, eh? But it was fun."

"Why, were you there too?" muttered one of the Hardy brothers, the one who could at least talk.

"Yes, I crashed. It's my specialty."

"How do you sneak in and not be noticed, big as you are?"

Ken shrugged.

Aston passed Dennis's hair to her older brother and he threw it into the mixture which was bubbling on its own, without fire, from the strength of the ingredients within it. After a few minutes of mixing, instead of the slop there was now a nice light blue transparent liquid, with the inviting scent of deodorant.

With the three cups that he had brought with him, he filled the cups and passed them to the boys, but not before taking a sip of his own from the first cup. "Just one sip!"

Rhea, who came from Ulthos like Riddle, helped him take a sip, because the poor boy couldn't even lift his head. As soon as his lips touched the rim of the cup and he sipped the inside of his mouth, he jumped up fresh as a daisy and tossed his slippers, laughing happily and energetically as ever.

Theon did without. "We in the Iron Islands are used to drinking so much, we don't need these potions." he said, all proud of himself. Chavo took two sips, though he had been told to take only one, and belched so loudly that blue smoke came out of his mouth and everyone laughed, much louder this time.

Chavo passed Eddie the cup, but he didn't take it. He was staring into space, his gaze very strangely worried and focused on some thought of his. Since when Eddie thought about anything serious???

"For bad thoughts, better if you take two sips." the kind Ken advised him, patting him on the back - but his hand was so big that it almost made Eddie fall down the stairs where he was sitting. Ken passed him a cup, and Eddie drank. He felt much, much better after that blueberry gatorade-like stuff, except it didn't taste like blueberry but like sweet deodorant. It was good, but strange. Thoughts about Rey and what was written in the Red Witch's book slowly dissipated, replaced by how beautiful Emily's birthday party had been, and how exciting the thought of witnessing the Intercontinental Team's battle and match was!

Now all the Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys were lively and noisy again, and some of them started throwing snowballs at each other.

Dennis, still aching for his precious hair, tried to throw a large magical snowball at his sister, but not only did Aston, with impressive speed, draw her magical sword and cut the snowball in half, but she also succeeded to throw a bigger one right in his face, making Dennis' makeup drip everywhere. Aegon and Rhea laughed at him.

There was no snow in Sothoryos and Ulthos, so Chavo and Riddle enjoyed building impressive snowmen in the shape of monsters that inhabited the forest of Sothoryos and the desert hinterland of Ulthos.

"We should give Randy some too." Sheamus said as he looked at the liquid left in the cup he had just drunk. "He's been very ill lately, no one understands what's wrong with him, and he doesn't even want to tell us anything…"

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Sick Day, Part 3 - Evening

This is Part 3 for my bby @silverwolf319 💖💖💖 Something soft and comforting for the days you don't feel well. Here’s Frankie Morales making you take a sick day.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Word count: 990+

Rating: soft mature, 18+ only

Outline: Frankie Morales x “You” (gender neutral reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: mentions of illness/nausea; food/chicken soup ingredients; tea; the world’s grossest hot drink for sick people (but it works); Frankie being all soft and comforting

You wake up to the music of the end credits of Jurassic Park, and Frankie is nowhere to be seen. There is a note on the coffee table next to your phone that says, “Gone to store. Be right back. DRINK!” You smile and obey orders, sipping down the rest of your lukewarm Gatorade.

You yawn and stretch, and shuffle back to bed. You’re not tired and you can’t sleep any more right now, but maybe a book will do. And when you get into the bedroom you see that Frankie has worked more magic while you were out cold because there are fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed. You feel a little twinge behind your sternum, but you know it’s not a medical issue, it’s just Frankie and the way that he loves you.

You crawl into bed and pass an hour with a good book, and when Frankie returns you hear him unload all of the groceries before he pops in to see you.

“How you doing, babe?”

You smile, “Better. No more nausea. I finished my Gatorade.”

“Good. I got crackers and stuff to make soup. Do you want some hot tea?”

“Yes please,” you put your book down and reach your arms out to him. “But first I need a hug, baby.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed and wraps one big arm around your shoulders. Now that you’re not nauseated anymore he smells good again, clean and fresh and spicy with his usual deodorant and body wash. He’s warm and safe and Frankie, the smells that you associate with your best memories and experiences.

You let him hold you and envelop you until you’re almost drowsy again. And then he releases you and kisses your forehead, murmuring promises of tea with honey.

He returns in a bit with a big mug of hot, minty tea with just the right amount of honey, and a plate with a small pile of saltines. “Nibble these, sip your tea. I’ll be right back.”

And he goes to get his own book from the living room, and comes back and sits next to you in bed. He’s just right at keeping you company, reading one-handed and rubbing your back, only breaking the silence to ask you how your tummy is handling the crackers and tea. And there’s that twinge again, the little flutter that tells you that your body is in tune with Frankie’s love; and not just when there’s sex or passion or romance happening, but real love, all the time, even when it’s quiet.

And then the sun starts to get low, and your stomach growls, and Frankie laughs and gets up, telling you he got the stuff to make soup, and all you have to do is come out when it’s ready. So you lie down again for a quick nap, and listen to him banging around in the kitchen, chopping chicken breast and celery and carrots, mincing fresh garlic and pouring broth and stirring.

The next thing you know he’s shaking your shoulder gently, and his warm brown eyes are hovering over you, and his soft sweet lips are saying, “Hey, baby. Soup’s ready.” And you stretch and do an inventory of yourself: sore throat, sore muscles from laying around all day, but otherwise fine. You nod sleepily and tell him you’re ready.

And you sit down at the kitchen table to the best soup you’ve ever had, because Frankie’s gone all-out, making his mom’s recipe for chicken noodle soup with fresh garlic and a splash of lemon juice, and you could die right here and feel like you’d gone to heaven. And he smiles at you and asks you, “Is it good?”

And all you can do is moan around a mouthful of broth and egg noodles, and nod vigorously and ask for more pepper. And you don’t know how you’re ever going to repay him for this, for showering you with gentle love all day, on one of the worst-feeling days of your life, when all you wanted to do this morning was crawl into a hole and die. And then you realize you don’t have to “repay” him. All you have to do is accept his love and let it wash over you, let him do his thing and care for you. No repayment needed.

And then dinner is over and he takes the plates away and sets a mug in front of you with strict instructions to, “Drink up. It’s gross but it’s medicine.”

“Cold medicine?”

He tilts his head from side to side. “Kind of. More like folk medicine. It’s hot water, minced garlic, lemon juice, and honey. It’s gross, so you’ll probably hate me until you wake up tomorrow and feel human again.”

You wince and take a cautious sip, but other than the strong garlic it’s just lemony and not too sweet and pretty much just like a weird kind of soup. So you shrug and take a bigger sip and tell him it’s actually not that bad. He grins, happy that you think he’s done a good job.

“Can we watch another movie?”

“Of course, babe.”

He tidies up the kitchen while you fold your legs under you and pick a movie. He brings you a fresh glass of ice water to wash down the garlic-lemon-honey concoction, and you snuggle into his side. You’re warm and full of soup, less achy, less dehydrated, loved and supported and content.

Frankie looks down at you and smiles gently, his eyes crinkling up in the way you love. He tilts his head down for a soft kiss and you stop for a moment. He looks at you with a small frown.

“Garlic breath,” you say.

“I don’t care,” he laughs. “I just won’t breathe through my nose.”

You laugh, and let him lay a gentle, soft kiss on your lips. Then you tuck your head back against his shoulder and sip your ice water.

---

Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

My “all fics” tag list (my only tag list, actually):

@quica-quica-quica

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul

@kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian

[xpeachesncream]

Hey Nikki! Could you do a perfectly wrong drabble of reader thinking she is pregnant? thank you <3

perfectly wrong | drabble [10]: why are there multiple kinds of pregnancy tests for Taehyung to decide between?

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content, pregnancy scare (use protection and use protection well, folks!)

note: this ended up being a little longer than i thought lol sorry! hope you enjoy still. i also just whipped this up before going to bed so this is pretty raw - excuse any mistakes pls. love me still 🥺

"Fuck!" You yelled as you ran to the bathroom as a huge wave of nausea hit you yet once again this morning. You were abruptly woken up early in the morning due to the feeling, not getting much rest after the first time you hurled last night's dinner into the toilet bowl. Taehyung had just walked into your apartment, mouth slightly open as he furrowed his brows watching you run off to the bathroom.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He says, swinging the bathroom door open as you dry-heaved into the bowl, curse words trailing shortly after. He crouches to your level, rubbing your back and holding your hair out of the way.

"I don't know, I just woke up feeling--" He watched as you threw your head back into the toilet bowl, a little bit of the water you had taken down earlier coming back up. "Really shitty." You continue after you spit.

"Shit, did you eat anything bad yesterday?"

"I don't think so? Nothing seemed suspicious." You pointed at him weakly. "And you look perfectly dandy being that we ate at the same places." You rested your back against the wall, eyeing how god-like your boyfriend looked.

"I'm sorry, love." He pouted. "You okay to get up now? Let's get you in bed and I can run out to grab whatever you need me to grab." You sat there, pondering on your thoughts for a second. The food you ate last night didn't seem bad, but also you never know. However, you were starting to freak out mainly because of the countless, amazing, 'let me rearrange your guts' type of sex you've been having with your boyfriend. That thought always has to be taken into consideration.

"What's the date today?" Taehyung quickly whips out his phone to check the date on his lockscreen.

"The 20th. Why?" Your eyes widened. You were supposed to get your period 5 days ago. Albeit, you've always been on a weird, irregular schedule ever since you were younger. Getting on birth control somewhat helped regulate that, but lately it hadn't been wonky. You usually got it on the 15th. "Why, baby?" His eyes started to widen.

"I'm late, Tae. I should've gotten my period 5 days ago."

"Okay, let's not panic. We can't assume just yet, right?" He begins to slightly freak out, but he's doing his best to keep his emotions in check. He was worried as hell now, not only because you were hurting but because this?

Lord, please. If you get me out of this one, I won't slap Y/N's ass ever again.

Don't get him wrong, he really wanted to be a father. He had always dreamed of having a good sized family with the love of his life. But right at this moment? He wasn't ready. You weren't ready. You both were just trying to survive school and that was already work on its own.

"Right." You say, but you're fucking screaming internally. Jesus fucking christ?!

"Let's get you in bed. I'll grab you some gatorade and soup while you get some more rest." He says, helping you up. You loved his cologne and taking in his scent, but today you couldn't deal. You sat on the edge of your bed, immediately grabbing the trash can next to your night stand and puked a little bit more acid.

"God, I'm so tired. Let this be ooooover." You whined as Tae tucked you into your sheets and wiped your face clean with a warm, wet towel. He folded it in half, placing the towel onto your forehead to help regulate your temperature as much as possible.

"I'm so sorry, babygirl. I hate seeing you like this." He kisses you on the cheek. "Don't drink water just yet, it doesn't seem like you can keep it down. I'll come back right away, okay? Try to get some sleep."

"Can you grab a test?" He swallows the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, of course." He smiles toothlessly, watching as your eyes slowly droop and shut close, the exhaustion from all this effort hitting you out of nowhere. Tae was worried sick, and he honestly wished he could snap his fingers so that the things you need would just appear and he wouldn't have to leave you alone.

He gets to the closest convenience store that would have everything you needed in one place. He grabs you a few bottles of gatorade, making sure to grab you the blue Glacier Freeze bottles because he remembers you saying that's the only flavor you grew up drinking. He grabs a couple of ingredients to whip you up some chicken noodle soup later once you're able to tolerate the gatorade at the very least. He also grabs a few unnecessary things like snacks for you both [mainly him cause it's based off of his own cravings right now] and then makes his way over to the aisle that has the condoms and pregnancy tests.

Tests?

Multiple kinds?

How the fuck is he supposed to know? Does one differ by the other much? They all look like the same fucking stick. They all look like that game of pick up sticks.

His eyes go from one box to another, mouth slightly hanging from how overwhelmed he is right now. This one says 6 days sooner, but the other box has two sticks for the price of one? He's assuming that's a nice safety blanket to have an extra stick confirm your results. But there's also one box with two sticks AND the 6 days sooner message.

Then a box with 4 sticks?

"Hooooly mother of pearl, fuck it." He says, grabbing the one with 4 sticks and the 6 day message. That's the gold for him. It makes him feel a little better knowing he could look at all 4 sticks. Does Y/N even have enough pee for this? He's about to make his way out of the aisle when he passes the condoms and lube.

Heh, no lube cause I make my girl hella wet already.

But condoms? After today, he was highly thinking about it. But lord knows how much he'd hate to have to wrap it up like that. Condoms are for sure your friends, but that raw feeling when he's inside the girl he truly loves - Exquisite. Chef’s kiss. Absolutely irreplaceable.

He eyes the boxes one more time before a little elderly lady walks past him in the aisle. She looks at him, smiles, then looks at the condoms before looking down at his basket with the pregnancy tests.

"A little late for that, don't you think?" She chuckles as she jokes to herself.

Well, damn? Like that??

He purses his lips into a fine line before rushing out of the aisle and making his way to the self-checkout lanes. He quickly checks out, not realizing he had gotten a little distracted from his own thoughts.

Getting back to your place, he notices you're still sound asleep. He takes your trash out and dumps it down the trash slot outside of your door. He cleans up a little in your living room, folding your blankets neatly and lighting your favorite candle. He washes the dishes left in your sink as he waits for the stove to heat up. He starts to whip up that chicken noodle soup for you so it would be ready.

Once he's done, he grabs a bottle of gatorade and sits on the edge of your bed, gently brushing the hair out of your face.

"Here baby, drink some." He says, handing you the opened bottle. You stir in your position, sitting upright in order to get some of the gatorade into your system. You hope you can keep it down and make some progress. "I got you the tests." He shows you the box with 4 sticks.

"Damn, babe. Four sticks?" He clicks his teeth and points a finger gun at you.

"The more the merrier, amirite?"

"I should probably do those now." You take your time standing up with Tae right beside you, making sure you don't get dizzy or lose your balance. In the bathroom, you stand and stare at the box for a little, reality kind of settling in for you. This is actually happening right now.

"Hey, whatever happens, I'll be right here, okay? We'll figure this out." He reassures you, giving a kiss on the side of your head as you silently nod and open the box. You sit on the toilet, Tae helping you swap out the sticks until you no longer need to pee. He sets the aside the sink carefully, putting on a timer on his phone.

"Fuck. I can't just sit here and watch." You dig your head into your hands.

"I almost bought condoms." He chuckles, trying to brighten the mood.

"Taehyung and condoms? No way. My boyfriend would never."

"I would if absolutely necessary - and by absolutely necessary, I mean like today o’clock." You shoot him a look, the statement only heightening your anxiety. "But! I didn't, okay! We'll be fine, we can't assume."

"You're pulling out next time."

"I mean if you let me bust my load on your—"

"No, you're gonna cum in your own fucking hands after today." You furrow your eyebrows angrily.

"Baby." He laughs. "That's no fun."

"Taehyung, we're sitting in my bathroom waiting for four pregnancy tests to show their results!" His timer goes off and suddenly you feel sick again.

"I guess we'll find out if I'm daddy in a few minutes." You smack him on the chest.

"Don't ever."

"Please, ladies first." He nods towards the sticks.

"You!"

"Why me?"

"It's your sperm that did this!"

"Woah m'lady, it takes two to tango!"

"Pick up the goddamn sticks." He clicks his teeth.

"Fuck, fine!" He picks up the stick. "Oh my god, baby." He says, gasping with his mouth agape.

That's it. You're gonna fucking cry. Everything is turning into white noise. Yes, you wanted a family but all of this shit was happening so quickly you couldn't even—

"You're not pregnant." He says in the same dramatic tone.

"I'm going to fight you!" You shriek at him, grabbing the sticks to double check. You see one single line across all four sticks, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. You start to cry a little, causing Taehyung to laugh and pull you into a hug. He knows how stressed you just were and he knows this moment alone must have taken a lot out of you. He can't help but wanna cuddle you in his arms for the rest of the day.

"Oh never again, love."

"Don’t get me wrong. I wanna have your babies but I’m not ready to right now."

"I fully agree, 100%."

"I'll call my doctor tomorrow just to make sure we're in the clear." He nods.

"Feeling a little better?" You shake your head.

"Honestly, I still feel like shit."

"Go sit in bed, I'll bring the bowl of soup to you." He kisses you on the nose. "I love you."

"I love you, too." And that's what you do - sit in bed while your man brings your bowl of soup that he delicately prepared over so you can get something in your system. Luckily, you were able to hold both that and the gatorade down and that's what your diet consisted of for the rest of the day.

The good ol' doc says it's nothing but a dumb stomach bug and that your birth control is just playing mind games with you, showing you the results to confirm the negative pregnancy test. He demands you take it easy and get lots of love in the mean time until you fully recover from whatever thing you ate that day that wasn't prepared carefully.

You live and you learn. Life is all about that, right?

"Never again, Tae."

"We don't mean that." He whines as he chases after you walking towards the car.

"You try being in my shoes during a pregnancy scare then!"

[argylepiratewd]

✈ followed by ≣:

✈: reaching out for someone [bonus points if they mumble! their! name!] ≣: hand holding

💖 In which post-nap, post-heat exhaustion Harold is a grumpy, grumpy patient...

This is not his bed.

Harold lies still, eyes closed, listening and analyzing, ignoring the queasy, woozy feeling throughout his body. The world around him is quiet, save for the soft rush of an air conditioner, the rhythmic canine snores coming from behind him, and the gentle rustle of turning pages in front of him. A warm body is pressed to his back, too small to be human, moving in time with the breathy snores. Bear. That must be Bear, and if Bear is sleeping so peacefully, then they're somewhere safe.

The loft. Oh, yes, that's right. He'd been trailing a number, and the horrendous July heat hit him too hard, left him dizzy and nauseated and weak, sick and near passing out. John's loft was closer than any safehouse, so he sought refuge there. John showed up soon after, got some fluids into him, and let him stay. But he'd fallen asleep on the couch, not the bed. John must have carried him, then. Somehow, he slept right through it.

Fondness and gratitude blossom in Harold's chest. Without opening his weary eyes, he reaches out, murmuring John's name. Just as his hand lands on the jut of a knee, he hears the book snap closed, and feels it getting set aside.

"Hey there," John says, placing his hand over Harold's. "How you feeling?"

Harold sighs, and lets John's fingers wrap around his own. "Better," he replies, forcing his eyes open. The room around him is dim, lit only by muted sunlight filtering through the curtains. At John's blurry skeptical look, Harold admits, "But not my best." His head still aches a bit, the rest of him feels dreadful, and his nap was not refreshing in the slightest. It is, however, an improvement. Not much of one, true, but an improvement nonetheless. "How's our number?"

"Safe," John says, and reaches for something on the nightstand—a bottle of Gatorade, orange-flavored and colored, garish and revolting. "Fusco's keeping an eye on him. Here." He lets go of Harold's hand long enough to twist open the cap on the drink, then takes hold of it again as he holds out the bottle. Harold's churning stomach turns more in protest, the memory of drinking the last bottle rising in his mind. He makes a face, and John shakes the bottle insistently. "I know you don't like it, but you need the electrolytes and the fluids. You've had a rough time."

Harold starts to take it, but the more he considers it, the more his stomach voices his disapproval. Pressing his free hand to his belly, he asks, "Couldn't we start with something with more recognizable ingredients, like, say, water, instead of a bottle of food coloring and god knows what else?"

The building smile on John's face is soft and indulgent. His response, however, is not. "No," he says, and Harold groans. "You're dehydrated, Harold. Drink it. It's cold."

Scowling, Harold says, "You're a terrible partner," and he snatches his hand away and slowly heaves himself upright, grunting along the way as old aches and new object to the movement. Behind him, Bear lets out a small whine, irritated at being awakened, followed by a soft huff as he settles again. John's smile doesn't waver, growing under the sharpness of Harold's glare, especially when Harold grabs the cool, damp bottle and takes that first miserable sip of unpleasant artificial citrus. Though it's lovely to see John smiling, Harold still casts a narrow-eyed glance at John's upturned lips and asks, "What are you smirking about?"

John chuckles. "Just you." The affection in his voice melts Harold's petulance and crankiness most efficiently, and when John reaches for his hand again, Harold doesn't resist. "Glad you're feeling better."

"And I'm glad you're here," Harold says, lacing their fingers together. "Appalling sports drinks notwithstanding, you've taken good care of me. Thank you."

John's smile softens further, turning almost shy. "Anytime," he says, quietly, and Harold smiles back.

[coinsoup]

This is the aged up chaotic keeper crew Sunday dinner fic

read here on Ao3 or below the cut

 Wylie was eyeing the flour warily when a soft knock sounded through the room. He opened the door to find Linh smiling warmly back at him. She crossed the threshold of the house, entering the kitchen to wash her hands.

 “So is everyone coming tonight?” Linh asked, drying her hands off on a towel. When Wylie nodded she nudged him away from the cabinets to grab more ingredients. They fell into the familiar routine of Linh doing most of the work while Wylie hovered.

 It had been a good forty minutes of casual conversation and comfortable silence when another person came through the door. Keefe didn’t bother to knock simply barging in followed by Fitz who apologized for Keefe’s rudeness. There was no point anymore they had all become used to Keefe walking into any of their houses unannounced. 

 Keefe must have come directly from his job at foxfire cause he was still in uniform. Fitz on the other hand was wearing his average cape and crown outfit. Keefe sat down at the counter stealing some food from the plate Linh was working on.

 Fitz opened up the fridge pulling out a bottle of wine. Wylie sighed heavily, which Fitz pointedly ignored. Fitz poured himself a generous glass of wine taking a seat next to Keefe. 

“Leredon that little gremlin ditched out on detention today,” Keefe began, “I was the one in charge, it wasn’t even bad I just made everyone taste different flavors of DNA strips”

 Despite his complaints, Leredon was one of Keefe’s favorite students and took him under his wing much like Elwin did for Keefe. Keefe took after Elwin in more ways than one, just like Elwin the flavors that Keefe picked for the strips were weird and almost always disgusting, for funsies.

 The kitchen gradually began filling up to the point where Linh had to pull Marella aside and ask her to get everyone to leave. The group eventually migrated to the dining room scattering around the table. 

 Marella hung back in the kitchen assuring Wylie that yes it’s fine, yes I’ll help Linh. Linh had left the apartment they shared in Atlantis before Marella had gotten home. They lived in Atlantis as a big fuck you to Tam and Linh’s parents. Linh had heard enough of “you can’t be around water” for a lifetime so she decided to move to the place with the most water in the Elvin world.

 “Hey, dumbasses come help carry the food” Marella called out. Keefe and Sophie begrudgingly walked into the kitchen, seeing as they were the ones elected to go help. They gathered up the plates and placed them on the table.

 Everyone sat down and began to eat, it was nice. Pleasant conversation was held between everyone, well at least until Keefe and Tam started arguing.

 “I’m telling you,” Tam said hotly “Lynette’s product is better, it grows hair faster”

 “Well that’s obvious pretty boy,” Keefe leaned forward tugging on a strand of his shoulder-length hair that still had his trademark silver tips, “but we’re talking overall, and Ivy has good volume control.”

“You’re forgetting about watered Violet” Dex chimed in from across the table which led to a chorus of groans and obnoxious giggling from Fitz who was just past tipsy.

 Everyone moved back into the kitchen once they finished eating and Biana and Tam moved to do the dishes. At this point, it was common knowledge Fitz drank just so he didn’t have to help clean up but no one could really do anything about it.

 Marella was pulling various bottles of liquor out of the cabinet next to the fridge and placing them precariously on the counter. 

“Yo Wylie,” Marella called from where she was standing on the counter rifling through the cabinets “Where do you keep that human Gatorade thing”

“Above the fridge”

Marella set seven cocktail glasses down on the counter filling them half-way with liquor and topping it off with Gatorade. Keefe reached for one and Marella slapped his hand away. Marella ignited a flame passing it over the glasses setting them aflame.

 Wylie was watching from the corner of the kitchen with concern but also at least a little bit of curiosity as everyone picked up a glass. Tam grinned a little manically downing the glass in one shot. If he scorched his throat beyond repair no one needed to know. 

 Keefe followed quickly not wanting to be one-upped. Sophie was next choking a little as she drank it. Biana drank it barely wincing. Dex yelped a little bit when it touched his lips. Linh drank it without a sign that anything was off. Marella suspected she did some weird water trick but whatever. Fitz… well, Fitz left his drink untouched.

 They somehow found themselves in Wylie’s guest room gathered around Biana and Keefe. Well, except for Linh who was cuddling an elephant plant in the corner. Keefe was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room while Biana applied makeup onto his face. 

 Keefe stumbled up to the mirror gushing about how pretty he looked. Tam patted his arm and guided him back down the stairs albeit a little wobbly, but definitely fairing better than Keefe who may or may not have definitely been a lightweight. 

 Sophie was the last one to go down the stairs. She took a couple steps down then stumbled a little reaching desperately for the hand railing. Her coordination was a little off causing her to tumble down the stairs landing in a heap near the bottom. Wylie was the first to reach her, he had heard her scream and was not intoxicated like everyone else was. 

 “Shit,” he breathed out gently moving Sophie into a sitting position. Her eyes were unfocused and there was a gash across her forehead. Marella came up behind him leaning over Sophie.

 “How many fingers am I holding up?” Marella asked surprisingly calm in this situation. 

 “None,” Sophie said a little faintly. 

 Marella put down the four fingers she was holding up. Looking over at Keefe who had called his dad as soon as he saw Sophie’s state. 

 When Elwin showed up at the door he looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair messier than usual and wearing a bathrobe. Tam looked up from where he was sitting tears forming in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” Tam said words slurring. Elwin shook his head fondly ruffling Tam’s hair as he walked by. He entered the living room where Wylie had laid Sophie down on the couch. 

 Elwin ran some quick tests confirming Marella’s suspicion of a concussion. He gave Sophie an elixir. Telling everyone that if they didn’t move her too much she would be fine by morning.

“Bye kids,” Elwin said as he closed the door behind him, leaving to get his well-deserved rest. 

Marella and Linh followed closely after. Keefe and Tam were next. Followed by a giggling Fitz and Dex trying his best in his current state.

 “Night,” Wylie mumbled rubbing his forehead as he made his way up the stairs. 

 Biana was staring at the glass left on the table a little too intently for someone who was sober, eventually collapsing onto a chair next to Sophie. Well, that was chaos, was Biana’s last thought as she lost consciousness. 

[wineanddinosaur]

Bravus Brewing Company’s Philip Brandes Is Making Non-Alcoholic Beer History

Philip Brandes doesn’t want to tell folks how to live their lives. He just wants them to have access to great beer — even if they don’t drink alcohol.

Brandes didn’t have any experience in the beer world when he began brewing non-alcoholic beer in his garage in 2015. A former software programmer who worked long hours alone in front of a screen, he says he could feel that his chosen profession was killing him — figuratively and literally. When a close friend began drinking non-alcoholic beer after battling alcoholism, Brandes decided to put his analytic skills to work by finding the perfect method for making it. A year later, he filed to form an LLC, and Bravus Brewing Company became America’s first exclusively non-alcoholic craft brewery.

In 2016, Bravus expanded out of Brandes’s garage into a 1,400-square-foot production brewery in Santa Ana, Calif. Then, in mid-2020, the brewery expanded again — this time, into a 23,000-square-foot facility in Anaheim’s Platinum Triangle neighborhood, less than a mile from Angel Stadium and big-name breweries Golden Road and Karl Strauss. Since then, Bravus’s year-round brands have earned shelf space at Total Wine stores across the country.

Brandes attributes much of his brewery’s success to the quality of the beer, which is made using a proprietary brewing method. He’s also ventured into ultra-limited beer releases, producing the world’s first non-alcoholic bourbon-barrel-aged brew, Gravitas, which medaled at the 2019 Great American Beer Festival. Last year, amid the Covid-19 pandemic and a consumer market looking for healthier choices, Bravus saw a 300 percent increase in direct-to-consumer sales.

While NA beer competitors are targeting athletes or others looking to replenish electrolytes, savvy beer drinkers will find Bravus’s branding to be almost indistinguishable from a regular craft brewery’s. That’s because, according to Brandes, the audience is simply “anyone who wants a beer.”

1. Before starting Bravus, did you ever see yourself working in beer?

Never. I didn’t even think about it. But when I looked to change careers, I saw how much fun my brother was having. He was a sales rep for a local brewery and [part of his job was] driving to various breweries and tasting new beers. Everyone was always cheers-ing and drinking, and I could see everyone was having a bunch of fun. So, I thought, I want to do this, too.

2. What is Bravus Brewing Company’s mission?

As you know, there is such a stigma surrounding not drinking alcohol, to the point where it can be pretty alienating in a social setting. I had a friend who would whisper to the waiter and order O’Douls, then turn the bottle promptly around when it arrived at the table so that the label faced him, preventing others from knowing he was drinking a non-alcoholic beer. It was that awkwardness, along with the fact that non-alcoholic segment has consisted of poor-quality choices, that gave me the inspiration not only to launch, but really take it to the next level by creating an ultra-rare, limited-release beer that was not only extremely enjoyable, but something you could show off.

I think the mission is to give someone something that tastes like a beer, looks like a beer, feels like a beer, and allows them to fit in with the rest of us. We want people to have a beer they can be proud of, not embarrassed by.

3. Is there a beer that Bravus Brewing Company makes that best illustrates who you are and what you do?

One summer, I came up with this crazy idea to attempt the world’s first non-alcoholic bourbon-barrel-aged stout and release it to our customers around the holidays. This isn’t an easy feat because barrel aging normally imparts quite a bit of alcohol to the product. After a lot of testing, I developed a method that didn’t impart alcohol. I took it a step further by creating a luxurious package around it, and really making it a labor of love.

And so, “Gravitas” was born, named after our corporate entity, Gravitas Brewing Company, LLC. The product is truly craft beer: It is brewed in a small batch, hand-bottled, hand-labeled, and hand-capped, all by me. It’s a chance for me as the brewer to really connect with our customers and give them something they can proudly display on their table. Side note: I believe it became the first non-alcoholic beer to be traded among alcoholic beer aficionados!

4. What goes into Bravus’s brewing method that makes it so different from other NA breweries?

What makes us different is that we just don’t have a lot of alcohol production with our process in the first place. Most non-alcoholic brewers take an actual beer and filter out the alcohol, but when you take an alcoholic beer and burn off the alcohol, you’re burning or filtering out all the flavor and aroma — all the things that make the beer taste good. I think when you start putting stuff in and removing it, it’s like a chef taking ingredients out of a dish. We’ve developed a process that mimics alcoholic craft beer production as much as possible. There’s a lot of intellectual property around it, and we’re still learning new stuff about it every day, but I’ll say that we don’t vacuum distill, we don’t remove the alcohol, and it’s not arrested fermentation. It’s just a completely unique way of brewing that, at the end of the day, produces some pretty good beer.

5. A growing interest in “better-for-you” brews has caused a lot of brands to pivot into the non-alcoholic beer category — Samuel Adams, Lagunitas, Budweiser, and Heineken, to name a few. In the past year, has Bravus changed to address growing consumer interest in these beers?

Yes, and no. I think the concept of NA still kind of confounds people, especially [with] macro producers coming into the market. We’ve always maintained that, in the long run and to fight off competition, it has to be about two things: flavor, which we have everyone beat on; and brand, which is probably the hardest part. But there’s just so much desire to have high-quality, small-batch options, and that’s what we do. We made that choice a long time ago and haven’t really pivoted away. In the long term, these more-of-the-same macro beers aren’t going to last.

6. What do you think about the trend toward “better-for-you” beer?

I don’t think it’s a trend. This is what it is. People want and demand healthier drinks. The days of sugary sodas and high-calorie foods, I think those days are close to being over. And that’s a smart thing. That’s a good thing. And I think people should be mindful of what they do, but not at the sacrifice of taste. That’s the trick. I’m impressed with a lot of these offerings now that are coming into the space. So, I think it’s great and here to stay.

7. Where do you see this segment going next?

Even “better-for-you” isn’t really good for you. I think shifting in that direction is great, so it actually becomes a good-for-you category that has some health benefits to it. And that’s what’s so great about us. There’s nothing really terrible about our products, and there’s a lot of really great things in NA craft beer, like polyphenols and certain vitamins. So, I think it’s a good thing to go towards.

8. What else is Bravus doing that’s different from other exclusively NA breweries?

I’m interested in just being a beer for beer drinkers. I don’t want to be a recovery drink or a Gatorade or a Red Bull. I think people want a beer. And it’s funny, because investors and marketing people don’t like beers that appeal to everyone, right? They want you in a box. But I kind of like the fact that we have such a diverse market. I’m not here to tell you what to do, so if you want a non-alcoholic beer, I mean, hey, pick this up.

9. What’s your long-term vision for Bravus?

The non-alcoholic space and better-for-you space is really hot right now, so I think using our technologies to look at some other opportunities, like spirits and wines and things like that, would be great. I feel like we can just do such a better job at making these by using the technology that we’ve developed. But there are also a lot of cool things that NA beer can do that alcohol can’t. You can find niches, like the military, food trucks, things like that. We’re looking at maybe expanding at some point to the Middle East, because there’s a huge market for non-alcoholic beer amongst the Muslim population [there]. There are all these cool little opportunities ahead that I’d love to explore.

Ed. note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Bravus Brewing Company’s Philip Brandes Is Making Non-Alcoholic Beer History appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/bravus-brewing-philip-brandes-non-alcoholic-beer/

[starblazerm31]

Get To Know Imalia

Answers from the Get to Know My Character list by @forsakenoathkeeper concerning my Arcana/Slayers OC Imalia Gabriev.  Things to know:

Imalia is NOT the apprentice from the Arcana storyline.  That is Azalea.

Imalia was Azalea’s original Master and mentor in the ways of magic.

Imalia has known Asra since he was 11.

Below the cut, since is really long! 18+, please!

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Imalia doesn't have a meaning that I'm aware of, and actually, my boyfriend came up with it.  Imalia used to be named Lina because she is in a Slayers crossover fic.  She's the descendant of Lina Inverse, and she was originally named after that character.  My boyfriend thought she should have a more unique name, so he came up with Imalia.  "Mal" for short.

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?

Imalia is insecure about what others would think if they knew she carried a nightmare goddess inside her.  Good luck trying to exploit it...Lon is good at turning situations to the absolute worst.  Asra and Azalea took it pretty well, so she seems to have nothing to worry about.  At the moment.

03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?

Imalia loves her muscular arms.  Her way of using magic utilizes physical strength as well as willpower, so she's pretty built.  She loves flexing her biceps and watching others go wide-eyed.

04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical)

Imalia adores Asra's curiosity.  He's like her, always looking for answers to impossible questions. (she would like to think that she had something to do with this trait of his, but she knows better).  As for physical, she loves that divot where Asra's neck meets his collarbone.  She kisses that spot hundreds of times each day.

05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?

Imalia is extremely sexually confident.  She knows what she likes, and she knows how to make him cum.  The only question is exactly how out of breath does she want to leave him.

06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying?

Asra isn't too keen on how Imalia likes to go raid bandit camps and rob them blind.  He finds it a bit rude.

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

"Fuck this fucking fuckery."

08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

Her biggest flaw is also her greatest strength.  Her overconfidence.  With her magic, she has to hold to "I think therefore I am."  If she thinks she can do it, she actually can do it.  But sometimes she can't.  And those are frightening times for her.  She is aware yet oblivious.  It's just who she is.  

09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday?

For the season, Imalia loves summer.  She loves the heat and the rain.  As for holiday...her favorite is any one where she can get drunk.

10. Is your character more feminine or masculine?

Masculine.  Her appearance is quite feminine, but her persona might as well be a boisterous man.  She treats Asra like a man would treat a woman, and he doesn't complain at all.  She makes him feel precious and wanted, protected and loved.  Respected and revered.  And he's completely comfortable letting her top him most of the time. ^_~

11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

Say/do anything negative towards Asra or Azalea.  She will HARM you.

12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?

She could not live without her “Tea and Cookies” spell.  It's a summoning spell where she summons a platter of Orange Pekoe tea, shortbread cookies, and two cups.  The tea and cookies heighten clarity of thought.

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

Imalia sleeps like the dead, even though she's actually being tormented in her dreams.  At least she doesn't scream and thrash...damn Lon...

14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates?

She lives in her estate with her servant Ben Du Vos and his daughter Avery.  She loves them as if they were her actual family since Ben has been serving her family since before she was born.  Avery is just cool as hell and very utilitarian.  Mal made Avery her personal assistant, and Avery became very good at acquiring hard to get reagents and ingredients.  Asra has been known to take advantage of this a time or two.  Avery doesn’t mind, especially if it means she will get to see Muriel.  x3 

15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear.

Lucio.  Imalia and Lucio were a couple for three years, once upon a time.  It was the only time Imalia ever doubted every single thing she did.  Lucio had a bad habit of taking credit for everything amazing that Imalia did, and so she started to feel like part of the furniture.  So she left.  (In Lucio’s Route) When she learned that Lucio and Azalea were together, she thought she was going to go insane.  But he made Azalea happy, so she kept her venom at a minimum.  But she watched him like a hawk.

16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like?

Athletic.  Imalia loves rock climbing, swimming, wrestling, competitive combat magic, and chess.  Yes, chess counts as a physical sport to her, because when she plays you have to do push-ups every time one of your pieces is taken.

17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?

Perpetuating her family's bloodline is extremely important to Imalia, so of course, she wants to have children at the very least.  But when she and Asra finally got together, the dreams of marriage flared up like the sun.

18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode?

She already has an amazing home.  Her estate is spacious, magically protected, and is situated far enough out of the city to where you can see the stars unhindered.  Plus she is near the people she loves most.

19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily?

Oh yes.  Imalia loves a good fight.  The more opponents, the better.  She is a superior combat mage, so she's going to win most of the time.

20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures?

Imalia loves animals.  She is very partial to birds.  Her familiar is a phoenix named Balthazaar.  Balth is stubborn as hell, and he hates "burning day," the day he is supposed to die and rise from the ashes.  He will just draw it out, and start looking worse and worse each passing day.  You can usually hear Mal in her study yelling "Just die, Balth, you'll feel better afterward!!  Look, you're molting burning feathers all over my expensive maps!!"

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

She is afraid that Lon will go against their contract and kill not only Imalia, but her loved ones as well and trap them forever in her realm of torture.  She keeps this fear to herself because she really doesn't want to make her loved ones afraid of her.

22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have?

Imalia is covered head to toe with invisible magical tattoos that flare up when she utilizes them.  They are various swirling designs and arcane symbols.  She has two visible magical tattoos, one on each hip.  One is her keys (a big honking keyring with around 20 keys on it), and the other is a jeweled Flask of Requirement (it makes any drink she needs.  It has actually made Lime Gatorade for her before; she HATES the taste but likes how it makes her feel better).  She touches the tats, and the object they display appears in her hand.  If she loses the object, it reappears on her skin within 24 hours.  Her basic vanity tattoo is her family crest on her left shoulder.  She has nine facial piercings.  Four rose gold studs over each eyebrow, and one rose gold labret piercing.  She also has pierced earlobes.  Each piece of jewelry she wears is enchanted.

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved?

Imalia thrives at school.  She is a certified genius and teaches once a week at Prakra's Magical University.  She is well behaved for the most part, but very eccentric.

24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?

"Asra is the star that always guided me, but was always too far out of reach.  Until one day it floated from the sky and landed in my adoring palm."

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

Her father's death during the Red Plague.  She misses his advice and boundless love.  She misses his boisterous laugh and the loud sound of his footsteps throughout the estate.  She misses having him in her corner no matter what.

26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc?

Asra is a switch and Imalia is totally fine with it.  She is mostly a dom herself, but when Asra just HAS to dom her, she is more than happy to oblige him.  Anything he needs, she will provide.  He needs to be pegged?  She will just magically grow a dick and give every inch to him.  He needs to be treated like a princess?  Well lay right down love, and let me get to work.  He needs to rail her from behind until she sees stars?  Let's go for this constellation!  He needs a slow long fuck that leaves him breathless?  How many times would you like to cum, darling?

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

Public disturbance, destruction of property, magical assault.  >:)  "What, officer, that guy was BEGGING me to blow up his store."

28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for?

Well...she kind of is a celebrity in her home country of Sairuun (Say-Roon).  She's a princess.  She's famous for that, as well as surviving a mass assassination attempt on her whole family (the whole reason she lives in Vesuvia and not Sairuun; her entire family minus her cousin and her parents were killed; got to make sure at least one survives).  But her main claim to fame in Sairuun is the fact that she can cast the exact same spells as her famous ancestor, Lina Inverse.  Once a year, during the Festival of Inverse, she casts a Dragon Slave for the whole kingdom to watch.  From the safety of a mountain.

29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?

She allowed herself to be possessed by the Lord of Nightmares in order to save the life of her cousin, Queen Dreen Suval of Sairuun.  Dreen had been possessed by the remnants of Dark Star, a horrid monster of god-like power.  The only thing that could defeat him was his creator, the Lord of Nightmares.  Imalia called upon Lon to save Dreen, and Lon decided to take up permanent residence inside Imalia until Lon could create a new body for herself.  The mother of all monsters lives in Mal because Mal couldn't let her cousin be destroyed.

30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like?

Imalia LOVES music.  She loves to tour Vesuvia and find all of the street performers.  She and Asra have had some of the best dances to the music of the streets.

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what?

Not even going to lie.  Mal is a killer.  She kills, and doesn't feel bad for it.  She won't kill needlessly, but if the person/thing has done some horrible stuff...bitch misused their gift of life and has to die.

32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do?

Go to the library in Sairuun and spend all day perusing the tomes.

33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go?

Imalia can teleport anywhere she wants to within a specific distance, and she has a portal to take her anywhere farther.  If she needs to be alone, she will usually go to the seaside of Vesuvia, outside of the city.

34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc)

She loves hot pot.  A big ol sizzling bowl full of seafood and savory vegetables.

35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go?

Imalia definitely doesn't want to die.  But if she has to, she would want it to mean something.  Save someone she loves.  Make a change.  Tear a hole in the fabric of reality.  Anything that would scream "I WAS HERE, DAMMIT AND I DID WELL!"

36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life?

Not really, but whenever she uses Lon's power she ends up vomiting charcoal for a little while since her power literally burns Mal up from the inside out.  However, she won't die from it, since Lon would die with her.

37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them?

She HATES controlling parents.  If she sees a parent helicoptering their child, she will either scream them deaf or storm from the room.

38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc?

A rainy day followed by glorious sunlight.  She can really feel the sun giving her power on those days.

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct?

She looks mischevious.  Yes.  She very much is.

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others?

She actually loves to dress up for parties and balls.  She knows she has a great body and she does like to flaunt it.

41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

YES.  Mal's mother Narsa was a tiger mom and outright abused Mal when she was young.  To Narsa, Mal's one duty was to marry someone important.  She didn't need any other goal than that.  If Mal couldn't sit still or carry herself exactly the way Narsa wanted, Narsa would strike Mal's fingers with a reed.  She broke Mal's fingers several times, and Mal did require magical surgery to correct improper bone healing in her hands.  As a result, Imalia didn't have any real self-confidence for a long while.  And Mal's father didn't help since he bowed to the whims of his wife.  Dating Lucio had been just to please her mother, and after that ended Mal finally told her mother off and left to pursue her own dreams of attending Prakra's University.  Mal's father and mother divorced shortly after that.

42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change?

She wishes she could have stopped the Plague before it took hold in Vesuvia.  Losing both her father and Azalea tore her heart apart.  Even after Asra brought Azalea back, Imalia still regretted her father's passing and will apologize to his portrait randomly.

43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self?

When visiting her cousin Dreen in Sairuun, Imalia tends to be prim and proper, very diplomatic.  When the two of them are alone, they throw all pretention to the wind and curse and drink and smoke and imbibe...substances.  Dreen is her oldest and dearest friend, and Imalia is so glad that they are also related.  However, her true vulnerable self is only seen by Azalea.  The part of her that questions herself and where she is going in life.  The part that misses and loves so deeply that it hurts.  Azalea is Imalia's soul mate, even though they aren't romantically involved.

44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character?

If Azalea were to die again.  Imalia would not be able to handle it.  She would seclude herself from everyone and swear off all magic forever.

45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

Imalia hides her true feelings.  When she realized that she was in love with Asra, she kept it locked up tight inside.  She's good at putting on a front and will suffer the consequences indefinitely.  True feelings give others power over you, and since she has a fucking nightmare goddess inside her, that would be devastating.  But she will eventually come to terms with her feelings and express them.

46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?

Whenever she passes Asra, she will trail a finger down the center of his back.  She loves how it gives him goosebumps every single time.

47. Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along?

She's the leader, no mistake.  She's the one doing the dragging and the one that everyone looks to when shit turns south.

48. Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious?

If Lucio ogled Asra.  She would get right in Lucio's face and hiss "You want to keep those eyes, goat boy?"  Other than that, she's not jealous.  Asra loves her and that is enough.

49. What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood?

Every time Imalia sleeps she has the worst nightmares due to Lon.  Lon can't control Imalia in any way, as per the terms of their contract.  However Imalia's sleep is Lon's playground, and she does every cruel and horrendous thing you can think of to her.  Yes, even that.

50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say?

"Asra, you are my starlit sky, my fresh Spring rain, my guiding light.  Without you, my heart aches so much I can't bear it.  You calm my mind, refresh my energy, and stay my hand when it wishes to strike.  I love you.  I love you SO. DAMN. MUCH."

[acecorvid]

Sick Day [Spideypool/Spiderfam fic]

Sorry it’s been so long since a Spiderfamily update! It’s been a really weird and busy start to 2019 and I’m on a somewhat social media break? But more fics will be coming soon!

It took all of six seconds for Wade to realize he’d come home to chaos and considering he’d been in three gun fights only hours before, that was definitely saying something.

“Thank fuck you’re here,” Peter growled. His voice was much deeper and gravelly than it usually was. It was sexy. Quite sexy. Maybe the most sexy of all the-

“Hey! Fuckface! Eyes on me. Focus-” although the last part of ‘focus’ was coughed out onto Wade’s face.

“Ew, Spidey-germs. Does that mean I’m gonna get spidey-powers now?”

“You never get sick, Wade. Healing factor, remember?”

“That’s mutanist. You’re being- you’re falling over actually okay let’s get you to a flat surface.” Wade caught Peter in his arms mid-sentence as he started to tilt a little too far to the left. He propped Peter up against his own chest, turning his face so that if he coughed, he’d cough in a direction that wasn’t Wade’s tattered and bloody suit.

The falling over and apparent fever that Wade could feel through this suit didn’t stop Peter from rambling. “Gwen needs cough medicine. Peni needs a hot water bottle. Porker needs a lot of Kleenex. Noir needs some kind of old timey remedy that has too many ingredients and probably heroin so scratch that and just get him ibuprofen.”

“And Peter B. needs to lie down because he’s got the highest fever I’ve ever felt and I had cancer, my dude.”

“Don’t call me-” Peter’s coughing fit cut him off and he buried his face into Wade’s chest once again. “Don’t call me dude.”

“And Miles needs more blankets!”

Wade turned to the couch to see one Miles Morales peeking his head up from the couch.

“Miles?” Peter also turned to look but Wade assumed he got dizzy because he just put his face back on Wade’s chest. “You’re still here? I thought you went home.”

“You said there was a Spidey quarantine!”

Peter paused in Wade’s arms. “I guess I did say that. Okay. And Miles needs more blankets.”

“And water, please.”

“Don’t be greedy.”

Miles groaned and dropped back onto the couch and out of sight.

Wade stared at the back of the couch for a moment before he unceremoniously picked Peter up and starts to carry him upstairs.

“This isn’t what I asked for.”

“But it’s what you’re getting. Gotta get you into bed, old man. Have you always been this heavy? I feel like maybe-”

“Do not kick a man when he’s down,” Peter growled into Wade’s shoulder but he clings harder to him. He’s still clinging when Wade plants him down on their bed and tries to pull away.

“You’re warm,” is Peter’s only answer when Wade asks him what he’s doing.

“And you’re on fire. Didn’t you want me to help out the other spiders?”

“Leave them to die, cuddles are more important.”

Instead of doing any of that, Wade pulled away and was surprised at how easily he slipped out of Peter’s grasp this time. He was weak and pliant, which only made Wade worry more as he pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead.

“Get some rest, old man.”

Peter grumbled and groaned, but he rolled over and cuddled one of the fluffy pillows on their bed, seemingly obeying Wade’s words for once. Wade was sure he’d be asleep within minutes of leaving the room.

As he walked down the hall, ready to go check on the spider-kids, he pulled out his phone and shot his reliable weapon’s dealer a quick text message and a list of everything he would be needing.

-

-

-

“You know, when I got your message this isn’t exactly what I was expecting,” Weasel held out six bags full of pharmaceuticals, Kleenex, and everything else the poor sick spiders would be needing. Weasel took in Wade’s form as he handed the bags over the threshold of the doorway. He blinked wildly, took of his thick glasses to rub them clean on his shit, put them back on, and continued to stare. “Also wasn’t expecting that.”

Wade, completely free of his usual suit and mask, was wearing a blue and white unicorn onesie and a pink frilly apron. With all the spiders sick, someone had to clean house, and that someone was well equipped with the best outfit for the job.

“It’s the uniform of a providing father, Wease.”

Weasel stared blankly at him. Clearly he did not believe or understand anything out of the mercenary’s mouth.

“Is that meds?” Gwen had snuck up behind Wade and he would have scolded her for leaving her bed but she was leaning heavily against his side for support. He’d never seen any of his spiders so weak. Gwen reached around him and rummaged through the bags until she found a package of cough medicine. “Thank fuck!” Gwen pressed a kiss to Wade’s cheek before turning and launching herself over the back of the couch to land directly on top of Miles judging by the yelp and groan that followed. He could not understand how she could still be this nimble when she was burning up with a fever.

“I got the stuff!”

After Miles recovered he lifted his head over the couch again, “Thanks Dad Number 3!”

“What the shit, Wade?”

Wade turned back to Weasel who looked completely shell shocked. He was staring into the house, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Is this where you’ve been this whole time? Everyone’s been asking for you at the bar, wondering why you’ve just been picking up jobs over the phone instead of coming in, and you’ve been… playing house with someone else’s kids? Who are these kids? Whose kids are they? What the-”

“Lot of questions, buddy. Slow down, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Did you kidnap and brainwash a bunch of children, Wade?”

“Yes, Weasel. It’s a big conspiracy where I brainwash random kids to become mutant mercenaries not unlike myself and get them to do my bidding.”

“Al’s not gonna like this, Wade.”

“Weasel. I’m not. Obviously.”

Weasel looked from the couch, where two heads were poking up with curiosity, back to Wade. “Whatever’s going on here isn’t obvious.”

Wade sighed and shoved Weasel out of the doorway and stepped outside, closing the door behind him, much to the dismay of the two eavesdroppers inside.

“Look, you can’t tell anyone. I mean it this time, buddy. Tell anyone and I will personally slice your balls off and feed them to you on a silver platter.”

“Not the most creative threat you’ve given me but okay, noted.”

“I got married to a perfectly normal man from this dimension. His name is Peter and he has two children who are definitely both his biological spawn and they’re technically my kids now through marriage. That’s it. That’s the whole deal. And they’re defenseless little normal humans so I can’t let anyone know about them because any of my enemies could find out and hunt them down. Can’t have that. So no words out of your mouth, got it?”

Weasel stared at him for a moment before nodding, “Yup, absolutely everything out of your mouth was a lie but I can’t even begin to fathom the truth of it so- you got it bud. Not a word. Just promise me you’re not doing anything weird or skeevy or more illegal than the usual illegal shit we do.”

“Scout’s honor!”

“You’re not a- yeah okay, sure. You’re welcome for the care package. Hope the kiddies feel better soon.”

“Me too, who knew spider-people could get this sick.”

“Sorry what?”

“What?”

“The what people?”

“What what?”

Weasel rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively as he walked away. “Whatever Wade. You can tell me when you’re ready. Let me know when you’re ready for another mission.”

“Will do, buddy!” Wade gave him a two-finger salute before heading back inside and promptly running into Gwen and Miles who were obviously backing up from leaning against the wall. They somewhat successfully steadied each other despite looking like they were going to collapse at any moment. Gwen folded her arms and gave Wade a stern look, possibly to overcompensate for being caught. Miles glanced at her and immediately followed suit.

“Are you cheating on Pops?”

“Ye-yeah! Are you cheating on Dad Number 2?”

Wade rolled his eyes, sighing loudly as he put his arms around the two kids and lifted them up, carrying them back to the couch and plopping them down.

“Nothing or no one could make me cheat on your dad. I am faithful till the end. Sometimes beyond the end. With the exception of men that time travel and have metal arms… then sometimes I’m not the most faithful person but it’s an understandable thing. Like one of those freebie lists. You get me?”

Both Gwen and Miles shook their heads.

“Good! Now,” Wade dug through the bags he’d left in the entryway and plopped down a box of Kleenex, bottle of painkillers, two bottles of gatorade, and other supplies onto the laps. “Take some drugs, get some sleep, and feel better!”

“You’re a weird dude, Mr. Deadpool Dad,” Gwen mumbled as she crawled under one of the many blankets Miles had accumulated on the couch - including the ones that Gwen brought down when she was tired of being in her room alone.

“And you’re a weird kid.”

“But you’re good to have around. Love you and all that.”

“Ditto,” Miles chimed in though his eyes were already closed.

“Love you two and all that,” Wade repeated and patted them both on their heads before gathering up the supplies and spreading it out among the other spiders. Noir put up a bit of a fight when it came to all the meds, insisting that he read all the labels and wondering why there wasn’t certain now outlawed ingredients in them but eventually he got him to take many of the night time pills and put him back to bed. Peni was curled up with her tiny spider that somehow looked as sick as she did, so he left all the meds and supplies on her night stand and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He did not want to talk about what he saw in Porker’s room. He left seven boxes of Kleenex for him and left immediately.

Back in Peter’s room, Wade slipped in to find Peter soundly asleep on the bed, covers haphazardly wrapped around him. He put down the last bag next to the bed and gently crawled in next to Peter, brushing his hair out of his face.

Peter grumbled as he woke, rolling over to look Wade in the eyes. “Are the others okay?”

“They’re better. Gwen and Miles are particularly lively.”

“Not surprising.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell froze over.”

Wade reached behind him and pulled the bag up onto the bed. “I came prepared then!”

“Ah yes! I knew there was a reason I kept you around. You’re the best.” Peter made grabby-hands at the bag and in any other circumstance, Wade would pull the bag out of his grasp. But he wasn’t one to torment the sick so he gave in.

“Only useful as an errand boy, I see how it is.”

“Oh, you’re useful for other things too. I just don’t have the energy for any of those right now.”

“You don’t have the energy for bacon and eggs and pancakes?”

“Ugh, please don’t mention food to me right now.”

Wade patted Peter back and kissed his shoulder as he downed some meds, and then Peter turned his body into Wade’s. “The kids are all taken care of then?”

“Hm? Yeah they’re good,” Wade answered.

“Cuddle with me?”

Wade smirked, moving to lie on his back and letting Peter snuggle up close to his side, “We’ve got to get you sick more often if you’re going to be this affectionate.”

“I will gladly be affectionate with you every day if I don’t have to feel like this ever again.”

“Hm, I’ll look into it.”

“I don’t like the sound of that and whatever twisted experiment you’re scheming of but okay, sounds like a plan.” Peter buried his face in Wade’s shoulder and promptly fell back to sleep. All through the house, Wade could hear subtle coughs and groans, making it hard for him to fall asleep, but this was his family and he would always protect and take care of them.

(first) (next)

[writingsfromthespacestation]

MC trying to get 707 to Eat Better

(Admin Ambrose: I feel you, Anon. Saeyoung is an absolute disaster sometimes. XD I hope that you enjoy this one and that you are having a great day! <3)

You had on several occasions come to visit Luciel to find him on his couch with his arm over his eyes or gritting his teeth. 

Of course, you had been worried but when you asked what was wrong... he only laughed, strained and high, as he responded: “Soda hangover. It’ll pass. Don’t worry, kitten!”

It was then that you really started noticing that Luciel really did only have empty soda cans around him. 

There was the odd blue or green can amongst his favorite brown-red sugary drink of choice. 

You had even spotted an empty Gatorade bottle on one memorable occasion but other than that... there was no sign of him drinking any water.

You also noted the coffee pot in the kitchen but it was too clean for Luciel to be using it regularly.

When you think about it... you couldn’t really remember seeing Luciel eating anything other than chips...

Well...

There was that day when Yoosung had stopped by to spend some with the busy hacker. Luciel had drug him to the kitchen to make all three of you an egg sandwich after prying it out of Yoosung that he hadn’t been eating because of exam stress.

You remember it clearly because both of them had teased you about disliking ketchup on eggs.

Luciel had been especially incorrigible, prodding at Yoosung with a fork until he was taking regular bites of his food. While that put a smile on your face... Luciel smearing ketchup on your cheek had you squealing but shuddering at the slimy feeling.

...but that’s okay. You got it off by wiping it on his shoulder and jacket.

You came prepared today.

 You are armed with some simple ingredients and while you know that Vanderwood kept food in Luciel’s house for both of them... you had a plan.

Luciel is leaning back in his chair when you arrive, nibbling on a chip. 

You are going to get him to eat something else if it kills you.

He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you but he greets you with a, “Hey there, cutie. I’m a bit busy right now... You got through my passwords a couple of seconds faster than usual today... Have you been practicing?”

He’s rambling and it makes your lips twitch. Your heart flutters with the knowledge that he would take note that you are getting better at getting through his security measures- even with the code running on his screen.

“That’s fine.” You make your way to him so you can run your hands through his hair. He leans into your palm but his focus doesn’t waver from his computer. “Is there a deadline coming up?” 

“Yes,” His one word answer is tight and clipped while he rubs his eyes frustratedly. “This assignment didn’t make it to me on time... Mary is very antsy.”

“You’ll get it done.” You soothe. 

His weight is against you and you have to widen your stance to keep your balace, smiling to yourself. 

He is like an anxious kitten looking for cuddles when he is stressed but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you hum a few notes of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star because you remember Luciel had said it was a pretty melody.

“Will I?” 

He sounds so tired... There’s even more chip bags than usual littered around the wheels of his seat.

“I know you will.” You chance a small kiss against his cheek and are rewarded with his wide golden eyes catching your own. “You are good at what you do.” You shift the plastic bag strangling your wrist to your other hand. “Why don’t I make you something to eat while you finish up?”

“Make...something...” Saeyoung repeats your words in a mumble before he blinks. “For me? Why? I’m fine--”

“You need to eat more than chips.” You scold him gently before you rifle through the bag- bypassing the bag of rice, spniach, and... there! You hold out the water bottle to him triumphantly. “You also need to stay hydrated. Vanderwood told me that you only drink water when you go undercover... but you should drink some at home, too.” 

“[MC]--”

“I even got these!” You move so you can drop the small triangular bottles in his lap. “If it’s the lack of taste, I figured these could help. I got lemon, strawberry, and fruit punch...you just squirt them into the water to flavor it...”

“[MC]...”

“Besides, I won’t make anything extravagant. It’s going to be kimbap. I got carrots, spinach, and some beef. I could also use egg if that is better...”

You don’t realize that you are carrying on until he grabs your hand.

Your cheeks burn as you meet his exasperated but amused gaze. “Yes?”

“Are you worried about me?” His voice is so soft and low that your heart starts pumping the blood through your veins even faster. “You don’t have to be.”

“I am always worried about you.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them and you can see the melancholy starting to darken the honey depths you love. “I’m happy to worry- you’re important to me.”

You touch your knuckle to his forehead, smacking him without any force- one and then twice. “You really do need to take better care of yourself but you have this assignment, so I’ll do it this time.”

He doesn’t say anything, just tightens his hold on your hand before he lets it go completely to turn back to his work.

“It’ll be ready in a bit, Luciel.” You tell his back before you go to the kitchen to start the rice.

Once the kimbap has been rolled (and you ended up using eggs instead of the beef... not because it reminded you of that day, his blush, his smile- oh, no.), you bring it to him on a plate. 

It was a little misshapen- and you might have put too much sesame seeds- but it would do.

He flicked his gaze to you and you thought he would ignore it for a moment but he paused to pick the kimbap up carefully, studying it. 

His laughter was light and airy- unexpected and brief. “It’s... beautiful.”

“Shut up. I know it’s a bit wonky, and I made it fat but you need to eat-”

“Thank you.” He interrupts and takes a bite. “How did you know I like sesame seeds?”

You beam.

It becomes routine. When you visit, you’ll make something for him and it evolves from simple snack to meals and sometimes, sometimes... you’ll find him in the kitchen with a concentrated expression and sauce, sugar, or cheese splattered on his clothes or skin.

“It’s my turn to cook for us.”

Luciel may be hopeless, sometimes, but you care about him so much... he has to at least try to take care of himself. Maybe he can have some happiness...Who knows?

[johnboothus]

Bravus Brewing Companys Philip Brandes Is Making Non-Alcoholic Beer History

Philip Brandes doesn’t want to tell folks how to live their lives. He just wants them to have access to great beer — even if they don’t drink alcohol.

Brandes didn’t have any experience in the beer world when he began brewing non-alcoholic beer in his garage in 2015. A former software programmer who worked long hours alone in front of a screen, he says he could feel that his chosen profession was killing him — figuratively and literally. When a close friend began drinking non-alcoholic beer after battling alcoholism, Brandes decided to put his analytic skills to work by finding the perfect method for making it. A year later, he filed to form an LLC, and Bravus Brewing Company became America’s first exclusively non-alcoholic craft brewery.

In 2016, Bravus expanded out of Brandes’s garage into a 1,400-square-foot production brewery in Santa Ana, Calif. Then, in mid-2020, the brewery expanded again — this time, into a 23,000-square-foot facility in Anaheim’s Platinum Triangle neighborhood, less than a mile from Angel Stadium and big-name breweries Golden Road and Karl Strauss. Since then, Bravus’s year-round brands have earned shelf space at Total Wine stores across the country.

Brandes attributes much of his brewery’s success to the quality of the beer, which is made using a proprietary brewing method. He’s also ventured into ultra-limited beer releases, producing the world’s first non-alcoholic bourbon-barrel-aged brew, Gravitas, which medaled at the 2019 Great American Beer Festival. Last year, amid the Covid-19 pandemic and a consumer market looking for healthier choices, Bravus saw a 300 percent increase in direct-to-consumer sales.

While NA beer competitors are targeting athletes or others looking to replenish electrolytes, savvy beer drinkers will find Bravus’s branding to be almost indistinguishable from a regular craft brewery’s. That’s because, according to Brandes, the audience is simply “anyone who wants a beer.”

1. Before starting Bravus, did you ever see yourself working in beer?

Never. I didn’t even think about it. But when I looked to change careers, I saw how much fun my brother was having. He was a sales rep for a local brewery and [part of his job was] driving to various breweries and tasting new beers. Everyone was always cheers-ing and drinking, and I could see everyone was having a bunch of fun. So, I thought, I want to do this, too.

2. What is Bravus Brewing Company’s mission?

As you know, there is such a stigma surrounding not drinking alcohol, to the point where it can be pretty alienating in a social setting. I had a friend who would whisper to the waiter and order O’Douls, then turn the bottle promptly around when it arrived at the table so that the label faced him, preventing others from knowing he was drinking a non-alcoholic beer. It was that awkwardness, along with the fact that non-alcoholic segment has consisted of poor-quality choices, that gave me the inspiration not only to launch, but really take it to the next level by creating an ultra-rare, limited-release beer that was not only extremely enjoyable, but something you could show off.

I think the mission is to give someone something that tastes like a beer, looks like a beer, feels like a beer, and allows them to fit in with the rest of us. We want people to have a beer they can be proud of, not embarrassed by.

3. Is there a beer that Bravus Brewing Company makes that best illustrates who you are and what you do?

One summer, I came up with this crazy idea to attempt the world’s first non-alcoholic bourbon-barrel-aged stout and release it to our customers around the holidays. This isn’t an easy feat because barrel aging normally imparts quite a bit of alcohol to the product. After a lot of testing, I developed a method that didn’t impart alcohol. I took it a step further by creating a luxurious package around it, and really making it a labor of love.

And so, “Gravitas” was born, named after our corporate entity, Gravitas Brewing Company, LLC. The product is truly craft beer: It is brewed in a small batch, hand-bottled, hand-labeled, and hand-capped, all by me. It’s a chance for me as the brewer to really connect with our customers and give them something they can proudly display on their table. Side note: I believe it became the first non-alcoholic beer to be traded among alcoholic beer aficionados!

4. What goes into Bravus’s brewing method that makes it so different from other NA breweries?

What makes us different is that we just don’t have a lot of alcohol production with our process in the first place. Most non-alcoholic brewers take an actual beer and filter out the alcohol, but when you take an alcoholic beer and burn off the alcohol, you’re burning or filtering out all the flavor and aroma — all the things that make the beer taste good. I think when you start putting stuff in and removing it, it’s like a chef taking ingredients out of a dish. We’ve developed a process that mimics alcoholic craft beer production as much as possible. There’s a lot of intellectual property around it, and we’re still learning new stuff about it every day, but I’ll say that we don’t vacuum distill, we don’t remove the alcohol, and it’s not arrested fermentation. It’s just a completely unique way of brewing that, at the end of the day, produces some pretty good beer.

5. A growing interest in “better-for-you” brews has caused a lot of brands to pivot into the non-alcoholic beer category — Samuel Adams, Lagunitas, Budweiser, and Heineken, to name a few. In the past year, has Bravus changed to address growing consumer interest in these beers?

Yes, and no. I think the concept of NA still kind of confounds people, especially [with] macro producers coming into the market. We’ve always maintained that, in the long run and to fight off competition, it has to be about two things: flavor, which we have everyone beat on; and brand, which is probably the hardest part. But there’s just so much desire to have high-quality, small-batch options, and that’s what we do. We made that choice a long time ago and haven’t really pivoted away. In the long term, these more-of-the-same macro beers aren’t going to last.

6. What do you think about the trend toward “better-for-you” beer?

I don’t think it’s a trend. This is what it is. People want and demand healthier drinks. The days of sugary sodas and high-calorie foods, I think those days are close to being over. And that’s a smart thing. That’s a good thing. And I think people should be mindful of what they do, but not at the sacrifice of taste. That’s the trick. I’m impressed with a lot of these offerings now that are coming into the space. So, I think it’s great and here to stay.

7. Where do you see this segment going next?

Even “better-for-you” isn’t really good for you. I think shifting in that direction is great, so it actually becomes a good-for-you category that has some health benefits to it. And that’s what’s so great about us. There’s nothing really terrible about our products, and there’s a lot of really great things in NA craft beer, like polyphenols and certain vitamins. So, I think it’s a good thing to go towards.

8. What else is Bravus doing that’s different from other exclusively NA breweries?

I’m interested in just being a beer for beer drinkers. I don’t want to be a recovery drink or a Gatorade or a Red Bull. I think people want a beer. And it’s funny, because investors and marketing people don’t like beers that appeal to everyone, right? They want you in a box. But I kind of like the fact that we have such a diverse market. I’m not here to tell you what to do, so if you want a non-alcoholic beer, I mean, hey, pick this up.

9. What’s your long-term vision for Bravus?

The non-alcoholic space and better-for-you space is really hot right now, so I think using our technologies to look at some other opportunities, like spirits and wines and things like that, would be great. I feel like we can just do such a better job at making these by using the technology that we’ve developed. But there are also a lot of cool things that NA beer can do that alcohol can’t. You can find niches, like the military, food trucks, things like that. We’re looking at maybe expanding at some point to the Middle East, because there’s a huge market for non-alcoholic beer amongst the Muslim population [there]. There are all these cool little opportunities ahead that I’d love to explore.

Ed. note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Bravus Brewing Company’s Philip Brandes Is Making Non-Alcoholic Beer History appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/bravus-brewing-philip-brandes-non-alcoholic-beer/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/bravus-brewing-companys-philip-brandes-is-making-non-alcoholic-beer-history

[easyfoodnetwork]

Dalgona Coffee Inspired Us to Try (and Fail at) Whipping Other Drinks

Dalgona coffee is made with equal parts instant coffee, sugar, and hot water. | Photo: Yulia.Panova/Shutterstock

Something tells us that our whipped Gatorade won’t be as Instagram-popular as whipped coffee

As many shelter in place during this coronavirus pandemic, bored people are increasingly turning to “quarantine trends” to occupy their time and minds. One such trend is “dalgona coffee,” a drink that became popular online in South Korea in March before making its way to internet culture in the U.S. via social media.

@imhannahcho

yes i hand whisked this whipped coffee for like 20 mins bc my mommy wanted to try it she loved it!! (달고나 커피) #korean #fyp #aesthetic

♬ Put your head on my shoulder cover by karlo - karlogutierrez

The drink, which is named after a Korean sweet called dalgona or ppopgi, is made with equal parts instant coffee, sugar, and hot water — for example, two tablespoons of each — whipped or frothed into an airy mass, which then tops a glass of cold milk. It’s iced coffee for the social distancing age, appealing for how few ingredients and little effort it takes to create a TikTok-ready concoction seemingly out of thin air.

What other drinks can we whip? Eater staffers wondered idly. I’m very sorry to report that this brings us to:

Photos: Lesley Suter

Whipped cocoa.

Cocoa powder

Well, cocoa powder does not work! Made a splattery mess. I did manage to make halfway decent chocolate syrup, though, so not a full loss. — Lesley Suter

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped rose fruity milk tea.

Rose fruity milk tea powder

This floral milk tea powder, which I excavated from the back of my cupboard, did not whip, despite five long, torturous minutes spent whisking vigorously. But the results still tasted good (albeit overwhelmingly sweet) drizzled over a splash of oat milk. Would drink again. — Jenny G. Zhang

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped matcha milk tea.

Matcha milk tea powder

No, I don’t know why I have so many milk tea powders! This one also failed to whip up into a beautiful weightless cloud, although it did aerate the most out of any of my experiments. The earthy-colored liquid distributed unevenly throughout my oat milk, some plops settling to the bottom, others marbling the surface. The taste did not wow me. — JZ

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime

Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime

Did I really think Gatorade would undergo some alchemical transformation into a foam of electrolytes and raw energy? No, of course not. Nevertheless, science beckoned. The result, as you can barely see, looks like a faint glimmer of urine in the sunlight. It tasted like watery, sugary Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime. — JZ

Photo: Nicholas Mancall-Bitel

An actually good cocktail with “fluffy” orange juice.

Dante’s Garibaldi cocktail, which is not actually a riff on dalgona coffee, but we thought you deserve an actually usable “whipped” recipe for making it all the way to the end of this post

My family stockpiles oranges like other people hoard toilet paper, so I used one to make the new-classic version of the Garibaldi from Dante in New York. The World’s 50 Best bar upgrades the simple mix of Campari and orange juice with fresh, “fluffy” OJ, which emerges ethereal from a monster Breville juicer. A Nespresso milk-frother helped replicate the effect at home, certainly making the juice lighter and, I would even (generously) say, fluffy, although it did also heat it a bit. I built the drink in a highball glass, starting with Campari, then ice and fluffy orange juice, and finally a (well-washed) orange wedge. I enjoyed mine at 10 a.m. to perk up a rainy Monday morning in honor of day-drinking goddess Ina Garten, but the delightful cocktail would also make a handy option for a Zoom happy hour or weekend brunch with the fam. — Nicholas Mancall-Bitel

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2xY1TYS https://ift.tt/2Xun2EN

Dalgona coffee is made with equal parts instant coffee, sugar, and hot water. | Photo: Yulia.Panova/Shutterstock

Something tells us that our whipped Gatorade won’t be as Instagram-popular as whipped coffee

As many shelter in place during this coronavirus pandemic, bored people are increasingly turning to “quarantine trends” to occupy their time and minds. One such trend is “dalgona coffee,” a drink that became popular online in South Korea in March before making its way to internet culture in the U.S. via social media.

@imhannahcho

yes i hand whisked this whipped coffee for like 20 mins bc my mommy wanted to try it she loved it!! (달고나 커피) #korean #fyp #aesthetic

♬ Put your head on my shoulder cover by karlo - karlogutierrez

The drink, which is named after a Korean sweet called dalgona or ppopgi, is made with equal parts instant coffee, sugar, and hot water — for example, two tablespoons of each — whipped or frothed into an airy mass, which then tops a glass of cold milk. It’s iced coffee for the social distancing age, appealing for how few ingredients and little effort it takes to create a TikTok-ready concoction seemingly out of thin air.

What other drinks can we whip? Eater staffers wondered idly. I’m very sorry to report that this brings us to:

Photos: Lesley Suter

Whipped cocoa.

Cocoa powder

Well, cocoa powder does not work! Made a splattery mess. I did manage to make halfway decent chocolate syrup, though, so not a full loss. — Lesley Suter

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped rose fruity milk tea.

Rose fruity milk tea powder

This floral milk tea powder, which I excavated from the back of my cupboard, did not whip, despite five long, torturous minutes spent whisking vigorously. But the results still tasted good (albeit overwhelmingly sweet) drizzled over a splash of oat milk. Would drink again. — Jenny G. Zhang

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped matcha milk tea.

Matcha milk tea powder

No, I don’t know why I have so many milk tea powders! This one also failed to whip up into a beautiful weightless cloud, although it did aerate the most out of any of my experiments. The earthy-colored liquid distributed unevenly throughout my oat milk, some plops settling to the bottom, others marbling the surface. The taste did not wow me. — JZ

Photo: Jenny G. Zhang

Whipped Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime

Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime

Did I really think Gatorade would undergo some alchemical transformation into a foam of electrolytes and raw energy? No, of course not. Nevertheless, science beckoned. The result, as you can barely see, looks like a faint glimmer of urine in the sunlight. It tasted like watery, sugary Gatorade G-Series Perform 02 Thirst Quencher, Lemon-Lime. — JZ

Photo: Nicholas Mancall-Bitel

An actually good cocktail with “fluffy” orange juice.

Dante’s Garibaldi cocktail, which is not actually a riff on dalgona coffee, but we thought you deserve an actually usable “whipped” recipe for making it all the way to the end of this post

My family stockpiles oranges like other people hoard toilet paper, so I used one to make the new-classic version of the Garibaldi from Dante in New York. The World’s 50 Best bar upgrades the simple mix of Campari and orange juice with fresh, “fluffy” OJ, which emerges ethereal from a monster Breville juicer. A Nespresso milk-frother helped replicate the effect at home, certainly making the juice lighter and, I would even (generously) say, fluffy, although it did also heat it a bit. I built the drink in a highball glass, starting with Campari, then ice and fluffy orange juice, and finally a (well-washed) orange wedge. I enjoyed mine at 10 a.m. to perk up a rainy Monday morning in honor of day-drinking goddess Ina Garten, but the delightful cocktail would also make a handy option for a Zoom happy hour or weekend brunch with the fam. — Nicholas Mancall-Bitel

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2xY1TYS via Blogger https://ift.tt/2V9tPk8

[acreatureofmypen]

Gonna do this cuz im bored af

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? no

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? like sometimes the dark is great but other times some creepy shit goes down so like it differs

3. The person you would never want to meet? honestly? this girl named bianca who dumped a friend of mine that i didn’t even know was gay/bi/pan/other

4. What is your favorite word? fans (both kinds)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? the dead ones

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? ‘it’s cold and I’m wearing a sweatshirt’

7. What shirt are you wearing? a black longsleeve pj shirt

8. What do you label yourself as? stardust

9. Bright room or dark room? dark

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? waiting for santa

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? the golden age

12. Who told you they loved you last? my mommy

13. Your worst enemy? material or metaphysical?

14. What is your current desktop picture? ok it’s this really funny twilight diss meme

15. Do you like someone? I like 2 someones maybe kinda sorta

16. The last song you listened to? havana *cringes* it was the radio

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? trump

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? trump

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? trump, and impeach himself

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) hair

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? I’d look like myself and I’d parade around as trans just to piss people off

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? if I twist my arm the right way, it cracks like ten times

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? candles

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. soybutter and jelly

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? college

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? norway

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? some sorta spiked gatorade

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? free internet with the fastesr speeds ever

29. What is your favorite expletive? mothafrickin

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? i hate these questions sorry no answer

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? not getting an acting agent before the age of 7

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! norway

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? fred weasley

34. What was your last dream about? a summer camp I went to

35. Are you a good singer? I like to think so but probably not

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? yup

37. Have you ever built a snowman? yup

38. What is the color of your socks? what socks

39. What type of music do you like? anything as long as it’s good

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? set that mothafrickin sun

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? empty

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) Chicago Red Stars (female soccer)

43. Do you have any scars? yup one on my lip from stitches but it doesn’t look badass at all

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? famous

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? the shape of my face

46. Are you reliable? I like to think so but probably not

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? “are you famous?”

48. Do you hold grudges? don’t really have anyone to hold a grudge against

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? a talking flying horse

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? Well someone I had just met started telling me about their sex fantasies...they were 19...

51. Are you a good liar? I like to think so but probably not

52. How long could you go without talking? like forever as long as I’m not in school

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? I had bangs once...

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? yup I like baking

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? I like my british accent but like the only other person who does is like...one person.

56. What do you like on your toast? soy butter

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? probably some effed up flower or shit

58. What would be you dream car? a flying car

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. um I sing that’s really all

60. Do you believe in aliens? no

61. Do you often read your horoscope? yeah

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? e

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? dragons

64. What do you think about babies? they’re chubby. I love it.

[raindropsonroses123]

ScotSwap Entry

@fandom-frenzy

Hello! I was your person for scot swap and here is my story! It's not very good at all (and sort of late), for which I'm sorry, but I hope you like it!! :P I decided to use your camping prompt, although tbh I’m not sure exactly what is going on, I just went with it. Enjoy <33

Much thanks to @kerowyn-ankh for organizing this whole thing!<3

Thanks to @penguins-united for editing!

September 2016 A.D.

Virginia

It was, Jerrot thought, an insipidly delightful trip. The weather was glorious, the food decent, and everyone was sort of getting along. The only bad thing about the entire adventure was that it was so short. Despite his best efforts and intentions, Jerrot was rather enjoying himself.

He was even beginning to forget why he was so gloomy in the first place. It had been one of the vicious arguments he was always having with Lymond, probably about Marthe or Gabriel or Philippa or politics or religion or whatever stupid comment one of them had made. Afterwards Jerrot always felt a little mixed up, as though a hurricane had swept through all his carefully organized thoughts and principles and left them in disarray.

He sighed, resigned to cheerfulness, and went off smiling to look for Archie.

In his subsequent search he found himself looking all around camp. Adam had also mysteriously disappeared, but Fergie Hoddim and Randy Bell were passionately arguing about the proper way to make s'mores. Or, at least, that was how the argument had started; at some point it had shifted to the Mexican-American war and then to the affect oil prices had on the economy. Either way, they were neglecting their one task, which was to build the fire.. Lancelot Plummer (Jerrot had tried to think of him simply as Lancelot once, and it was just wrong. He was the sort of person who needed two names) had taken over, which was lucky, because he actually knew how to build a fire.

Lymond, who had organized their expedition into the terrifying world of northern Virginia camping grounds, was supposed to be getting out the ingredients for s'mores. Or building tents. Jerrot was positive he was supposed to be doing something. Instead, he was sitting on a big blue cooler Hercules brought, plucking away beautifully and maddeningly at a guitar and humming Neil Young songs under his breath. Lymond was consistently the most beautiful and maddening person in a group, Jerrot thought. It did not help that Jerrot was positive Lymond wasn't really as unthinking as he seemed. He probably had a great scheme in his head for the rest of them to carry out.

Meanwhile..

Archie and Adam had been gathering firewood by the little creek. "Had been" because Archie had declared that it was pointless to gather firewood and had tried to convince Adam to wade in the stream and catch minnows. Archie knew a lot about minnows. Adam let himself be distracted, reluctantly at first, and then enthusisastically, as he felt the sun beam down and the lovely weather whittled away at his resolve, until he was happily picturing landscapes to sketch and listening to Archie prattle on about squirrels.

The sun sank resolutely behind the trees as they wandered along the path. Adam realized suddenly that it was quite dark, his bad leg was aching, and he had no idea where they were.

“Archie? We aren’t lost, are we?” he said.

“Ohh” said Archie. He was probably the only person in the world who could say ‘oh’ in such a disapproving and decidedly Scottish tone of voice. “Oh. No. Not really. Just a wee bit, maybe,”

“Glad to hear it,” said Adam flatly.

Later…

“Has anyone laid eyes on Fergie or Adam?” said Lymond commandingly. He was standing on the cooler now, like a politician on a soapbox.

Jerrot was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

Fergie coughed discreetly. “I believe they were looking for firewood,”

“That was an hour ago,” said Lymond coldly. “And neither brought a cell phone. Well. Everybody grab flashlights. We’ll meet back here in half an hour. Fergie and Randy, you go to the creek, I’ll go to the path, Lancelot, watch the camp. Jerrot, you head south to the lake,”

He sprung down from the cooler like a cat, and ran off to get flashlights. There was a brief silence, all too familiar an experience after some of Lymond’s declarations.

Jerrot scoffed, loudly. “It’s like he thinks we’re at war, or something,” he said. “The woods aren’t even that big,”

The others nodded sympathetically and agreed with him, but went about their respective tasks anyway. He was half-tempted to simply declare he was going to stay at camp, but it was getting sort of dark. And perhaps he wasn’t ready to face Lymond’s verbal whiplash again...

It took an hour or so of stumbling about in the woods until Jerrot found Archie and Adam. Adam was sitting on a rock, bored out of his mind, his leg aching. Archie, on the other hand,was extremely energetic. After realizing they were lost, he had apparently chugged a few powerful energy drinks he had packed. He said it always pays to be prepared. He didn’t respond when Jerrot asked why he didn’t bring a cell phone.

“What’s going on, then?” he had asked instead, pretending not to hear.

“Lymond’s been organizing search parties,” said Jerrot, resigned. “I think he’s rather enjoying himself,”

Another hour or so later, and the stars were out and ridiculously bright. Archie and Adam had  prepared to face a lecture by Lymond, but he had taken pity on them- probably because Adam looked pathetic as a kicked puppy and Archie was still bouncing around like a monkey on steroids. Fergie was carefully toasting marshmallows and Archie was eating them amid his bouts of spontaneous dancing. Randy and Lancelot Plummer were listening to Adam tell a ghost story. Jerrot, bored by the idea of dead people and phantoms, and spurred on by some alien self-destructive impulse, sat down cross-legged by the fire next to Lymond, who was staring at it darkly.

He had been going to say something to provoke a fight, or to apologize, but all he managed was a rather lame comment on how nice and useful the fire was.

“For the night is dark and full of terrors..” said Lymond.

Jerrot blinked. “Was that a game of thrones reference?”

“Yes, Jerrot, it was,” said Lymond lightly. “Now how can I help you?”

“I’m not always trying to start a fight, you know!” said Jerrot.  “Maybe I just wanted to make conversation!”

“Sorry,” lied Lymond, grinning. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I don’t know,” said Jerrot. “Camping is nice, but don’t you ever feel small, looking at the stars?”

“Bright star, would I were as steadfast as thou art, not in lone splendour hung aloft the night…” said Lymond. “Not really. I’ve always felt a little too important, frankly,”

Jerrot turned to him with something bitter on his lips about arrogance, but Lymond was, for once, laughing, and without reason, Jerrot was suddenly laughing too.

He was still planning on being melancholy and sulky, but then Fergie caught a marshmallow ablaze, and nearly burned an outraged Archie, and Adam very nearly had to stop a brawl, while Lancelot Plummer was laughing so hard he could hardly speak. Lymond sprang up from his seat, eyes sparkling, and Jerrot wondered with a sinking feeling if he was going to make some speech about taking themselves seriously and ruin their fun. But instead, Lymond picked up his ridiculous guitar once more, and began to strum. Archie, high on the twin pagan gods of caffeine and gatorade, began to sing in a surprisingly operatic voice.

Yes, thought Jerrot with a strange feeling he thought might be contentment, he was enjoying himself.