fresh freeze

Ascendance of a Bookworm – 055

Lutz’s Tutor

As we work on our hairpin handicrafts, someone knocks on our front door. Tuuli and I exchange glances, then she gets up to see what’s going on.

“Yes, who is it?”
“It’s me, Lutz. I’ve brought some pins with me.”
“Alright, let me open up for you.”

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🍌🍓🍊 Smoothie Potions🍍🍑🍒

for when you still want to work a little magic into your day and feel healthy af too. smoothies! here’s just a couple of suggestions with fruits and their correspondences, but you can totally come up with your own ideas!

for all recipes, chop, cube, or slice all fresh ingredients. freeze and chill respective ingredients before blending!  feel free to add your favorite herbs and other ingredients you love to your potions!

for  love, purification, and new beginnings 🍇 🍉

1 cup frozen blueberries
1 cup frozen raspberries
2 cups cubed watermelon

for familial love, prosperity, and protection  🍌

2 tbsp. rolled oats
½ milk or substitute
1 frozen banana

for  fortune, friendship, and wealth  🍓 🍃

½ cup frozen strawberries
1 cup milk or substitute
½ cup kale or spinach

for beauty, divination, and love  🍌🍊

½ frozen banana
½ cup orange juice
½ cup greek yogurt

for nurturing, prosperity, and protection 🍈🍌

½ medium avocado
1 frozen banana
1 cup milk or substitute

for  fortune, friendship,  purification, and cleansing 🍓🍈

½ cup frozen strawberries
½ milk of choice
½ cup coconut flakes

for nurturing, prosperity,  chastity, and fertility 🍌🍊

1 frozen banana
1 cup milk or substitute
2 tbsp lime juice

for luck, wealth, and chastity  🍍🍌

¾ cup frozen pineapple chunks
¾ cup coconut milk
½ frozen banana

for fortune, friendship, and love   🍓🍍

1 frozen banana
1 ½ cup frozen strawberries
½ cup milk of choice

things about Hufflepuffs #570

The weather is just edging on the side of spring, which means Hufflepuffs are getting restless. There are plants to bring outside, and bouts of spring cleaning to undertake. Mostly, we just want to be able to open the dang window and let some delightfully fresh air in (without freezing half to death)!!

Quirks About Germans Americans Still Can’t Get Over

If you live in a country long enough, which many American exchange students do, you start to become desensitized to what once struck you as odd. You no longer stand in awe of the number of toilet buttons or scoff at people waiting for walking signals when no cars are coming. Some things, however, just never become familiar. We asked former American exchange students to Germany what cultural quirks still give them pause.

Wearing clothes more than once

Originally posted by funky-blue

Generally speaking, Americans grow up somewhat fussy about germs and dirt. We carry around hand sanitizer. We carefully wash all of produce. We also throw into the laundry clothes we’ve worn for only one day. In Germany, unless you worked out in them or spilled something on them, there is no shame or stigma attached to wearing clothes again–even multiple days in a row.

Greeting people with “Mahlzeit!”

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

Can you imagine walking past someone at work in America and greeting them with, “Lunch!” But in Germany, this is a common way to greet coworkers during the mid-day hours.

How they count on their fingers

If you’ve seen the movie Inglorious Bastards, you are already on the up-and-up on German counting behaviors. Americans show numbers with their palm faced away from them and start with their pointer finger. Germans count with their palm faced towards them and start with their thumb.

Tugging of the eye

Originally posted by neondragonfly

In America, sarcasm is best served subtly. Since sarcasm is a bit of a national pastime and is brought to artistic levels in some circles, it can make it tricky to know when an American is joking. In Germany, sarcasm is presented visually, by pulling at the bottom of an eyelid to indicate that everything you say after that is meant in jest.

Fake names on social media

Originally posted by giantmonster

Met a cool German and want to connect with them on social media? Well, GOOD LUCK. Germans tend to be more concerned about their privacy and often change their names on social media to something completely unrelated to their actual name.

Buying your own birthday cake

Originally posted by floresdeceniza

Nothing knocks the wind out of an American’s sails like being expected to bring their own cake to their birthday party.

English is “german-o-fied”

When Americans travel to Germany, they often expect to be fully immersed in the German language. This is not exactly the case. The German language is speckled with English words like googeln and tweeten and American music is played on the radio or at events. Dipping in and out of one’s mother tongue can make it difficult to learn a new language.

Enthusiasm for carbonated beverages

Originally posted by disneymoviesanywhere

Bubbles! Bubbles everywhere and in everything! Oh, it doesn’t have bubbles? Well let’s mix that juice with some carbonated water.

Shoes just for the house

House shoes, or slippers, are like normal shoes but softer and comfier. They’re like something in between socks and shoes.

Frische Luft

Originally posted by benmullins

You finally escaped the whipping wind and cold outside. It’s snowing and you look out the window and express your gratitude that you aren’t out there anymore. Then, across the room, someone complains about stale air and requests some frische Luft and OPENS THE WINDOW IN WINTER. Now the air is “fresh” but you are freezing. Who is winning here?

What is going on with your beds?

Arguably the most efficient set-up for bed-making: The pillow takes up like half of the bed and there is just one thick sheet that has it’s own case.

The Stand In

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: Reader is an assistant on the newest Spider-Man movie. Due to complications, they are asked to stand in on the blocking of a kissing scene with Tom Holland.

Notes: This is officially my first pairing fan fiction. If you guys like it I’d be more than happy to do a part two and some other cute scenarios I’ve been thinking about. Also sorry this is long and has no gif per usual. I’m not to Tumblr savvy and can’t figure out how to do that stuff.

Word count: 2,052

“We need a stand in for the next scene!” One of the directors practically shouts in your ear, panting from the run from the main set to the copy room. You remove the last of the script changes from the copy machine and place them into your binder, looking at the breathless man before you.
“What? Why? What scene are you doing? Where is is the actual stand in?” You say in a rush. You had been an assistant on the newest Spider-Man movie for only a few months. You’d mostly been doing little things: copying papers, printing schedules, organizing costumes, and cleaning trailers. Even though you hadn’t been doing much, you still knew the basic ins and outs of the production, including that there were actual stand ins for actors if the directors needed them for lighting shots or blocking.
“She’s not here today. We said we didn’t need her. But Zendaya is stuck in traffic and we need someone to block this shot. You’re the least busy woman in the block.” The director says in a rush, taking your binder from you. “It will only take a few minutes. We just need to run scene eleven of the second half of the movie.”
“Scene eleven!” You squeak, shocked they were blocking the scene so soon. According to her schedule, they had planned on starting with a major fight scene. Scene eleven, that was the long awaited kiss scene between MJ and Peter Parker. You were actually very proud of yourself for that scene. You had been the one to suggest what MJ should say right before the kiss to Zendaya herself while bringing her some props. And now one of the directors was asking you to be a stand in for that scene, a scene you knew would only be you and Tom Holland.
Tom Holland. Just thinking about him summons a light blush to your cheeks. You’ve had a major crush on him ever since Civil War came out. Seeing him on set had been a dream come true. You’d even gotten to speak with him a few times. Watching his big brown eyes light up as he laughed at a stupid joke you told woke the butterflies that were always in your stomach when you were near him. Of course you never made a move. Like Tom Holland could ever fall for an assistant on his movie. Still…you couldn’t help but daydream about his cheeky smile, his wavy brown hair, his adorable accent. Everything about him made your heart beat faster.
“Ms. L/N,” the director snaps his fingers in front of your face. You had started to daydream. “Please we must hurry. We want to block this scene before the stunt doubles get here and work with Tom on the big fight scene.”
That snaps you out of it. You nod quickly and start following the antsy director through the block to the set. The scene was to take place in an empty classroom at the school. It was a tender moment between MJ and Peter before Peter had to rush off and save the day again. You never thought you’d get to see it filmed, let alone be in a blocking of the scene.
As you round the last corner you see him. Tom wasn’t even in costume, just a black tank top and jeans. In fact it looked like they were prepping the suit over to the side as he was reading the script again. Wow they really were in a hurry to block this scene. As you approach Tom you start to get nervous. Your hair was back in a messy ponytail. Your jeans were splattered with old paint stains and you had a hole in the back of your shirt. You quickly take your hair down and run your fingers through the soft strands, trying to make them look at least a little decent. As you try to fix yourself up a bit, Tom looks up from his script and sees you. The soft smile he flashes your way makes your heart thud in your chest.
“Hey Y/N,” he says in that cute British accent of his. You hope you’re not blushing but you can already feel the heat on your cheeks. “Are you gonna be Zendaya’s stand in for the scene?” You manage a shy nod, trying hard not to get lost in those warm brown eyes.
The director sits down next to the two others working today and called for the dummy cameras. Prop managers rush on and start rearranging desks and books and anything else that made the set look like an actual classroom. Makeup artists rush forward and cut between you and Tom, fixing up his make up for some test lighting. Someone takes a hold of your arm and leads you to the front of the classroom, where the scene was to take place. You were told to leans against the desk and look as cocky as possible. They asked if you needed cue cards to get through the scene. You shake your head sheepishly. You’d memorized the entire script the second you had the chance to read it. You knew every line by heart. The woman positioning you shrugs and and walks off as Tom moves to his spot, directly in front of you. You could feel your face growing red again and you struggle to keep the cocky grin on place. Tom smiles encouragingly, offering you a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about the acting part. It’s just blocking. Honestly I’m glad I get to kiss a pretty girl for the test run and not a tennis ball,” he jokes quietly as the directors set up. Now you couldn’t help but blush furiously. Tom thought you were pretty! Before you can respond with a clever comment you had been saving for a moment like this, the lights switch on and you’re blinded. You blink rapidly to get rid of the dots and get use to the brightness. As soon as you’re able to see by squinting the director yells action and the blocking begins.
At first all you can do is stand there, stunned, as Tom reads his lines to you, the shift from a British to an American accent making you blush. That had always been your favorite part of the interviews you watched. Tom would be telling a story and switch from his normal accent to an American one in a heartbeat. You never knew why but it made you swoon.
You snap out of your daze just in time, as it’s MJ’s turn to speak. You read off her lines perfectly, even able to add a little bit of her blunt character to it. Tom smiles at you before launching into his next set of lines, stepping closer. You rise from the desk to meet him, now mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your ears as you look up at you, no where near as tall as Zendaya. As Tom finished his lines you smirk, knowing this line better than any others.
“If you’re going to stand this close to me Parker, you might as well kiss me,” the line flows smoothly from your lips as you look up at Tom, a newfound confidence in your eyes. He blushes and reaches up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, a shy, truly Peter Parker smile on his face. Your heart skips a beat as his other hand presses into your back, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches as his lips meet yours. They taste sweet and fruity. You’re so stunned you almost don’t kiss back, still not quite able to believe Tom Holland was actually kissing you. Warmth spread through your body as you finally relax and kiss him back, one hand reaching up to tangle into his soft brown curls, while the other presses against his chest. You can feel his heart beating through the thin fabric of his tank top. Is it just your imagination or is his heart beating faster than normal? Did he feel the same surge of electricity racing through him as you did, right now?
“Cut! Great job everyone, that looked perfect. We’ll try it for real tomorrow,” all too soon it was over. Tom’s lips slowly left yours yet he stays close, his hand still on your back. You look up at him, wide eyed and breathless from the best kiss you’ve ever had. Tom smiles down at you, looking a bit breathless himself. It takes your foggy brain a full minute to realize you’re still pressed against him and the set people were changing scenes. You flush red and pull away from him, pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I-I hope I was better than a tennis ball,” you manage, very aware of how out of breath you sound. Tom chuckles and gently takes your hand in his, leading you off the set so the green screen could be wheeled in.
“That was much better than a tennis ball,” he says softly, setting his finger under your chin and lifting your face up. You had no choice but to look into his eyes, trying not to sigh out loud.
“You’re a really good kisser!” You blurt out, immediately flushing red. Oh how you wish your mind didn’t turn to mush around Tom. You wouldn’t embarrass yourself nearly as much. “S-Sorry. Y-You probably hear that all time time. Besides it was really unprofessional.”
“No no it’s ok,” Tom laughs softly, taking a step closer to you. “You’re actually a pretty good kisser yourself.” You freeze, a fresh blush taking over your face. Surely he was just being nice. He didn’t actually enjoy the kiss did he? You step away quickly, running a hand through your hair. You had never felt more conflicted in your life. Here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of the man you might just be falling in love with, while he proceeds to tell you you’re a good kisser. Your mind couldn’t take it.
“Y/N?” Tom’s soft voice drew you from your pity party. You glance up at him, then do a double take. He looks…upset? But why? He shifts and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. “I’m so sorry. I’m probably making you feel wildly uncomfortable. I-I was going to see if you wanted to come to my trailer for lunch…but you probably…wouldn’t want to…now. Sorry.”
“Of course I want to!” You blurt yet again, your head shooting up from your own shoe gazing.
“Really?” Tom looks up at you, a wide grin taking over his face. The butterflies in your stomach go crazy at the sight of that wide smile, directed right at you. For a second you’re speechless. You can’t quite believe that you were the cause of that adorable grin. Or that you were just asked out, if not on a date then at least to hang out, by Tom Holland himself. You manage a shy smile and nod.
“Y-Yea. I’d love to,” you respond quietly, bashfulness quickly taking place of embarrassment. Tom runs a hand through his hair, almost bouncing on his feet. You giggle softly at how cute he looks, all excited and happy.
“Ok great! I-I have to go get into the suit. Takes forever you know. But I’ll meet you at my trailer as soon as I get a lunch break.” Before you can say anything else he bends down and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. You gasp and touch your fingers to the spot he had just kissed as you watch the adorable actor run off.
“Y-Yea. Ok. I-I’ll see you later,” a warm blush covers your face as you watch him go, leaving you daydreaming about the lunch date you can’t wait to have.

Sugar and Spice Are Not Always Nice

“Mmpf-” her eyes flitted open, catching Alex’s grimace as she pulled away from Maggie’s soft lips and warm, wet mouth and he freshly brushed teeth and tongue.

“Why do you taste like a spice cabinet?”

“A spice cabinet? Danvers, you are intimately familiar with the only thing I have eaten this morning.” Alex’s ears pinked up and Maggie fought to keep an adoring grin off her face.

“Not that, I know what you taste like after that.”

“What is it then, oh wise and perceptive Alex? Need another taste to figure it out?” Maggie pushed off from the counter Alex had pressed her against, lunging up to reach the lips that were irritatingly far away when she wasn’t wearing boots, but Alex kept her lips pressed tight together, refusing to melt under the gentle suction of Maggie’s mouth on her bottom lip.

Maggie chuckled and returned to her morning routine, pulling open a drawer and fishing out her makeup kit. “Did you need a toothbrush? I grabbed an extra last time I was at the store…” she fished it out of the drawer too, “paid an extra 20 cents to get one with a black grip for my badass biker DEO agent.”

Alex scoffed and peeled off the carboard backing of the offered toothbrush. “This is a classic case of the badass biker detective calling the badass biker DEO agent black.”

“Danvers, you have a leather jacket for each day of the week plus a special occasion jacket or five.” Maggie only owned 4. Completely reasonable. Besides, her own red toothbrush was badass without being over the top.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Toothpaste?”

“Medicine cabinet.”


She looked up and saw the red tube directly in front of Alex’s face. Picking up her girlfriend’s hand, she clumsily extended Alex’s forefinger to point directly at it.

Alex shook Maggie’s hand off and extended the next finger at Maggie instead. Maggie just laughed and Alex grabbed the tube and twisted the cap off, squeezing a tiny amount onto the fresh white bristles and freezing.

“I’m not gonna dock the 20 cents from your toothpaste allotment, you can use a human amount babe.” Maggie said.

“It’s red.”

“…Yes?” she took in Alex’s stiff posture.

“Why is it red.”

“Because most toothpaste companies dye cinnamon toothpaste red.”

“Is THAT why your mouth tastes so weird? Sawyer, who the hell uses cinnamon toothpaste.”

“I don’t always have you to spice up my mornings, I have to get it from somewhere.” Butt pinches can be accidental, right? Alex’s rolled eyes didn’t seem to think so..

“You’re laying the charm on a bit thick, don’t you think? And flattery isn’t gonna change anything - cinnamon toothpaste is the worst. What is wrong with plain old mint?” Alex pouted in the general direction of her toothbrush, still laden with only a touch of the red paste.

“I woke up in a good mood this morning. Your guess as to why is as good as mine.” She caught Alex’s eye in the mirror and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Alex responded by hip-checking her, accidentally jostling her arm while she was mid eyeliner application.

“Rinse it off you five-year-old, I think there is a travel tube of mint in the third drawer somewhere.” Maggie shuffled over to make space for Alex to pull it out, grabbing a wipe from the first drawer once she was clear of it.

“It’s still gonna be in your mouth though, and I like kissing you in the mornings.”

“If it really means that much to you, I’ll brush again with the mint too. Five year old.”

“It’s fine,” Alex sighed, “I suppose you have to taste your mouth more than I do, and you like the cinnamon…” she emerged from rummaging through the drawer, two-inch-long tube in hand. She squeezed it onto the brush and let out an over-the-top sigh of contentment as she brought it to her mouth. “I’m not kissing you until after coffee, though” she mumbled around the brush.

astridapples  asked:

If you haven't been asked already - what do you think about Albert's route? 😁 have a great day Amalthea!

Hello, corner-buddy! One mini-review coming right up!

I have been waiting forever for Albert’s route, so I’m super happy! I mean, just look at this:

Look at this!:


One thing that I thought was so funny, was how Byron set his chill level to DEEP FREEZE. He’s fresh out of f*cks, and he’s not about to put his clothes on and go to the store.

Bureaucrats pressuring him into marriage?: 

Want to shamelessly flirt with his fiancée right in front of him, directly after he gets attacked in broad daylight?:

What’s that, Lassie? Nico’s committing espionage again, and Albert wants him to be his wingman?:

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anonymous asked:

6 "I just like proving you wrong"

// I wasn’t sure what pairing you wanted dear anon, so I went with Hamilton/Laurens. This is set in the historical period. There are mentions of homophobia and allusions to suicide. Please let me know about any mistakes in language, grammar, etc…help is appreciated! //


John drifted in and out of sleep. Dreams came and went like passing tides, sometimes merging into one another and, at other times, ending so abruptly that he jolted back to reality. This would happen, sometimes. Sometimes the monstrosities of war; the ear-crackling booms, the heart-wrenching scents and the soul-draining cries, became too much to bear. Sleep had always been an adequate form of escape, a suitable type of rest, but now even that had been taken from him.

He ran a hand through his mess and mass of hair. He had to remind himself to breathe, just breathe, before he could even attempt opening his tent. To get out, to get some fresh air, to forget.

But, even then, his fingers trembled against his will.

After many attempts, he finally felt the bite of cold air. The sensation of it scratching past his skin cleared his mind. He breathed; allowed the icy fangs to claw their way down his throat. But then he caught something; an intruding warmth, a sickly scent of burning wood. He paused, and turned in its direction.

Someone was already up.

Someone was there, prodding the ashes of a blazing fire as if to diminish the fresh, freezing air.

The time it took for John Laurens to recognize that smooth olive-skin, those raven curls and that lanky frame was enough time for the memories to return. It was enough for him to hear distant screams, distant cackles and bang!

He felt himself falling. Felt the discarded leaves beneath him, the very earth, slide and twist beneath his feet. He felt himself decline, further and further into the battlefield; into the world of the dead, dead, dead bodies, staring at him with unseeing eyes, calling to him with unspoken voices and longing for him with an unforgiving grip—


He came back to reality with a flinch.

Alex was there, staring at him. His eyes, dark and wholesome and knowing, became an anchor. Laurens openly stared at them; bore into them, so as to keep himself grounded.

“John, are you with me?” Alex spoke in a hushed tone. His hand ghosted over John’s shoulder, before returning to his side. “Your eyes seemed to be distant.”

He scrunched his face up to try and battle the looming headache. “Oh, Alex…” He trailed, swaying slightly. “My apologies. I…I sometimes, I…”

Laurens may have lost his words, but Alex’s were always steadfast on his tongue.

“I understand. You do not need to explain what is so clearly expressed by your emotions. Come by the fire—it will be warmer there.”

John shook his head, an action he soon regretted after his brain became wracked with throbs. “N-No, Alexander. The cold helps me to think.”

“Very well. We shall sit here, then?”

Laurens was taken aback. “You wish to sit with me?”

The follow-up to that question was left unsaid, but it hung clearly in the air; me, the soldier who is deemed brave and yet cannot face sleep for fear of nightmares; me, the soldier who hath none but oneself; me, the soldier, who is sinful enough to love you.

“Of course, my dear Laurens. You seem troubled, and yet are my friend; so I shall remain with you.” Alexander paused. “We will sit here?”

“Somewhere away from the tent. It plagues my mind with unhappy thoughts.”

“Very well!” Alexander beamed, and when he did, his eyes seemed alight with the very stars they reflected. He reached forward and took John’s wrist, turning and dragging him somewhere within the forest.

John Laurens was too tired and too infatuated to say no. He was too trustful, too, it seemed; so he followed this man, this glorious and respectful and wonderful person, into the looming darkness of the trees. The moon and the dancing stars above provided minimal lighting. But, Alexander seemed to know the way, paving his way through the trees and the roots almost elegantly.

Eventually, they reached a lone lake.

Alexander collapsed by its edge, gazing up at his friend with a grin which could only be described as smug.

“Does this suit your fancy?” Alexander said, a little louder now that they were free of prying ears.

“It is quite possibly the most remarkable landscape I have seen.” He agreed, and sat down beside Alexander. He stared into the water, ignoring his reflection and instead choosing to note the constellations; marvel at the diamonds above, enveloped by darkness; memorize the patterns, the swirls, of the moon.

He did not see Alexander, who was too busy studying him. “Yes, but, my dear Laurens, not more beautiful than the landscape that is yourself.”

He knew what Alex had said; and he knew that Alex knew what he has said. This was a man whose thoughts formed direct connections with his mouth; every word calculated and true. John hoped the darkness hid the growing redness of his cheeks. “Why do you flatter me so, Alexander?”

Alex chuckled. “It is just that I like to prove you wrong.”

John’s heart sunk a little further. You could sink even further in the lake, his thoughts suggested. He shook his head again, as if to try and rid them, before his head went throb and he gripped his temples.

“Oh, my dear John- whatever is it that troubles you? I did not mean for you to take offence, you should know that—“

“No, no, Alexander—just stop. ‘Tis not you. The horrors of the battlefield haunt me and the men I hath watched die wish for me to join them, and alas, Alexander! Reality is not enough of a wager to keep me here, I fear. I am scared. I am cold and alone, and—“

It was warm. Warm hands drew around his body and gentle arms kept him from tethering. A warm body, an alive and welcoming and soft body, pulled him close, and sweet nothings were whispered into his ear. They hushed him. The words almost sung to him like a lullaby. And so John allowed his eyes to close; allowed the waterfall that was his tears to flood the shoulder he now breathed into.

“I am alone, Alexander,” he wept. He did not care for the shame that preyed upon him, for the warm arms holding him kept it at bay. “I hath none which want me but the dead, and yet I cannot die.”

“Shh,” Alex almost cradled him, rubbing soothing circles into his back with ease. “You are not alone. What must I do to prove you wrong? If not in words dear Laurens, then…” He gripped onto the shivering man in his arms. “I will never leave you, John, if you wager the same with me. You are not alone; I am here.”

His sobs diminished into sniffles. “Reality would be bearable, were you with me constantly.”

“Yours, forever,” Alexander promised, breaking apart for only a moment so that he might place a kiss upon John’s forehead. His fingers; elegant as they were, traced his cheeks so that the tears might be gone.

Something seemed to realise itself within John, and he flinched, daring to pull away. “Why can it not be; ‘tis damnable. You are a righteous man, Alexander. You cannot love me in the way that I might you.”

Alexander only gripped him firmer, chin placed over the taller man’s head. “Hush, I will prove you wrong, my dear Laurens. Love knows no bounds; not the depths of ones soul nor the amount of stars above can quantify it. I want you here.”

“How can you be so sure?” John asked, tears threatening to engulf him again.

“I hath loved, and will love, you for as long as I live.”

Alex finally released the taller man—but only so that he could plant a gentle kiss to those soft lips, eyelids shadowing his wondrous eyes. John became tense, at first, but forced himself to relax. Of course, he had wanted this for a time too long to measure; but the thought of kissing Alex was still one which made him feel a forced guilt.

But no longer. He became lost in the sensation of Alexander’s lips.

They parted only when they needed air.

It was John this time that hugged the smaller frame, nuzzling into his neck so that he might absorb the loving warmth that belonged there.

Alexander smiled. “Yours, forever.”

And for the first time in many a year, John Laurens began to believe it. Like a distant light in the darkness, he began to feel wanted. The screams became whispers, the wounds became scars and the world around him became, for once, invitingly warm.

Another Life

[This is written for the very last day of @vorchagirl and @cactuarkitty ‘s ME Relationship week! The prompt is ‘alternate universe’ and since I’m turian trash, I went with ‘what if Nihlus lived?’ Under a cut due to length- let me know what you think!] 

It started, as many things do, with an exchanging of looks from across the Normandy, Nihlus’ openly curious, Shepard’s just short of hostile. She couldn’t believe (in fact, she was completely unwilling to even entertain the possibility) that a Council Spectre could be there for anything other than something nefarious. Stealth systems- right. As state of the art as the Normandy was, it didn’t warrant this degree of examination, and it didn’t need to be seen out on a mission when it could just as easily be shown going through the paces around the Citadel.

As it turned out, Shepard wasn’t completely wrong, though it was made all the more galling by the glaring facts she had gotten incorrect. Her? A Spectre? When Nihlus spoke to her, the naked admiration was plain in his voice; he said he admired her will to live through the impossible, how calm she had been under pressure at Akuze. Left dazed, her head was barely in the mission at Eden Prime until shit hit the fan, as it always seemed to do, and suddenly there was no time to think of any possible promotions. Nihlus was somewhere ahead of her, and she had to catch up to him.

Every step she took seemed to be slightly too slow; by the time she had found him, it looked like it might be too late. He was bleeding- a shot to the head, generally fatal, Saren long gone and only a terrified dockworker to tell her what had happened. Kaidan knelt by the fallen turian, and then shouted up to her, “Shepard, he still has a pulse. Faint, but it’s there.” Somehow, the lucky bastard had lived through it all.

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anonymous asked:

"Let's share my coat, since you're cold." -Taehyung **Thank you**

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Genre: fluff

Pairing: reader/taehyung

Length: 1.1k

hope you like it :)
request prompts
part 2 !!

It was absolutely freezing. Fresh snow powdered the ground as you waited by the train station, icicles hanging off the edges of shelters like frozen darts. It was taking forever to get home, as the trains weren’t running due to snow on the tracks, and instead you had to hop on replacement buses which were the only things braving the icy roads. And you had forgotten your coat.

Shivering in your thin jumper, you jogged up and down to get the feeling back in your toes, just as a hooded figure came and stood next to you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said a familiar voice, and you turned around to see one of your classmates smiling from underneath his thick coat.

“Taehyung!” you cried. “Are you trying to get home too?”

“Yeah, I’ve been stranded for about seven hours now,” he explained before licking his lips, which probably weren’t as numb as yours due to his extra layer of clothing.

Kim Taehyung was a boy who sat at the front of the class, who minded his own business and never got involved in any dramas or gossip. However, he was universally liked, as when he did speak up, he usually got the whole class roaring with laughter. Many people questioned why he never had any friends around him or tried to socialise, but you could tell it was what he preferred and was more comfortable with.

“That’s horrible,” you sympathised, trying to ignore the fact that you were beginning to lose feeling in your fingers. “The country’s seemed to have completely shut down. I feel like I haven’t seen anyone except for five different but equally grumpy bus drivers.”

“Don’t worry, if I get told another bus is cancelled, they’ll have competition,” he laughed, his deep tone almost warming you up. Almost.

“At least we won’t have school tomorrow,” you said brightly. “They’ll close up for sure.”

“I wouldn’t mind. Get me away from those people in our class.”

You did a double take, staring at Taehyung confusedly. “I think the people in our class are alright,” you replied defensively. “They’re kind, and hard working.”

Taehyung nodded and shrugged at the same time, showing how you had a point, but he didn’t agree. “The people in are class are all the same,” he explained, kicking at the snow with his boot. “They all think the same, talk about and do the same things, so there’s nothing… different about them. They all merge and become no one.”

“Is that why you don’t talk to any of them?” you asked. You’d never really questioned why Taehyung was so against making friends, as he always seemed perfectly happy by himself. But was he?

“They’re not worth my time,” he smiled, turning to you with shining eyes. “I’ve always thought you act differently, though.”


“You never join in when there’s a class joke, and you never follow the crowd. I remember one year, one of those birds got to the food bins and had thrown litter everywhere. People just added to the pile before going inside, but you stopped to pick it all up and put it back, and when the teacher asked you why you were late, you didn’t say why. You just apologised.”

You were so shocked you could barely talk. “I’d forgotten about that,” you mumbled, looking at the white snow with wide eyes.

“I think there’s more to you than people think,” he concluded, his cheeks going slightly pink, either from embarrassment or from the cold, you weren’t sure.

“Never thought I’d hear that from you, Kim Taehyung,” you muttered, a new wave of shivers hitting you as the icy wind blew up your sweater.

Let’s share my coat, since you’re cold,” he offered, shrugging off his coat off one arm so you could snuggle in. You hesitated, as you didn’t know him that well and he wasn’t giving you his coat, you were sharing it. But you were too cold to argue, so you let Taehyung wrap his black coat around your shoulders so that your front was pressed against his side.

As soon as you felt his body heat seeping into you, you blushed heavily and felt your heart rate pick up speed dramatically. He smelt amazing too, and you found yourself drinking in his scent.

His voice rumbled in his chest before he spoke. “Warmer?” he asked, his voice deep and calm.

You nodded, your arms tucked up to your chest. You never thought you’d feel so comfortable with Taehyung, but it felt so natural, waiting for a bus in the middle of a white city with no one else around.

“So, you only share coats with people you find interesting?” you asked cheekily.

“Don’t make me go shy,” he laughed, the sound vibrating his chest.

“Why are you shy?”

Although you weren’t looking, you could feel his head twisting as he squirmed. “Because I don’t usually do this,” he admitted, the smile on his face muffling his words.

You found a weird enjoyment from making Taehyung uncomfortable, and you were about to question him further when the bus arrived, causing you two to awkwardly separate.

Once you’d both climbed on, you sat near the back with Taehyung while he avoided looking directly in your eye.

“Who would’ve thought that Kim Taehyung got nervous,” you mocked, nudging him in the side.

He just grinned cutely, his mouth like a rectangle as he looked away. With one hand, he pulled his fringe in a lame attempt to cover his eyes, still bashful of the sudden attention. “I didn’t think I’d ever speak to you, so I feel unprepared for this.”

Your heart rate still hadn’t slowed down, but you didn’t care. Despite the agonisingly long day, you soon realised how you wouldn’t mind it if the bus ride went on for another few hours, just so you could be seated next to Taehyung that little bit longer. Now that you were inside, you didn’t need the warmth of Taehyung’s coat, so you sat side by side, occasionally stealing glances at each other and laughing when you got caught. It was embarrassing, but it made you realise how Taehyung knew himself well enough to go his own path, even if it was in the opposite direction to everyone else. He was so stable and sure, yet still kind and considerate, and that made you smile a little too goofily.

“I think you’re different, too, Kim Taehyung,” you said quietly, not checking to see his reaction.

He stayed quiet, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard, until you felt his fingers slip between yours, entwining them tightly.

“Yeah, that’s different,” you muttered shakily, trying to swallow properly.

“Good,” was all he said, and you fell back into silence.

🍒 Raw Black Forest Donuts 🍩

• 1 cup of cashews (soaked overnight)
• 5-6 large peeled and pitted dates
• ½ cup of chopped cherries
• 2/3 cup of coconut flour (oat flour also works) + some more to coat
• vanilla

Chocolate glazing:
• cocoa powder
• cocoa butter
• agave syrup
• vanilla

Process the cashews, dates and cherries; add some vanilla and stir. Then, insert the flour and stir well to make a smooth substance. Make little hoops with wet hands and coat them with flour (makes them look more realistic), then freeze for half an hour. Meanwhile, prepare the glazing and coat the top of the donuts; freeze for 10 more minutes. You may repeat it several times and finish the top layer with chopped fresh cherries before freezing it at last.
Keep in the freezer, place in the fridge 10 minutes before serving :)

The incident: part 3

Okay so many of you requested it and here it is, the second part from the rp thread The Incident

Alaine: So this takes place in a very post-emotion Fresh timeline, as an experiment to see how Fresh would deal with a hurt Decans that was possibly somewhat his fault.

And we wanted to go all out apparently.

In this scenario Fresh has already been helped through multiple anxiety attacks by Decans. He has already started to care and work through the idea of caring. Decans has come to rely on Fresh and they are true besties.

Keep reading


Trialling less spicy vegan curry options because @i-want-to-be-wonderwoman is weak sauce.

My take on green Thai pumpkin and Onion curry (served with pumpkin seed quinoa as I had some left).

Tasted pretty nice, but I do really think it’s a bit bland without the heat 😅 still I think i could serves her some, whack some fresh chilli and and give it another min for my taste.

Also - freezing fresh pumpkin and thawing it gives it a pretty meaty texture. Who knew?

Originally posted by everythingstarstuff

Currently preparing a lot of fresh, homegrown parsley for freezing.

Same as yesterday: constant, sudden screeching as more worms and insects crawl all over me.

I do not like invertebrates unless they’re like.. bumblebees or something, or crabs.

I do like this fresh shit for eating though.