the-flick

anonymous asked:

How can I get a demon to be my buddy? Like I want someone to chill and hug me

First, prepare the libations. This is probably soda or beer, but could be wine or lemonade. Even water will do if that’s what you drink when you hang out. Set out enough for two!

Pop some popcorn so that the smell fills the area you’ll do the summons within. If you don’t like popcorn, make some other snack food that has a recognizable, comforting scent, like cookies. This technique is called friendcense and will invite pals while warding away any demons who don’t want to, you know, chill.

Then queue up a movie you love to watch no matter how many times you’ve seen it before. This will ensure that the demon that appears will share your taste in comfort flicks.

Now clap your hands once, and say the ancient words of the summons:

I seek a demon with which to share chill company
I offer libations, entertainment, and food
I also offer a hug if you’re in the mood
So come over and watch Netflix with me

Put out the drinks and snacks so you can each have your share, play your movie, and have a good time!

anonymous asked:

So in the script of 2x13 it say that jamie read claire da mi basia mille in bed one night. Imagine that ;)

Liv says: As usual, I kinda suck, got carried away…and did not double check the prompt before I started writing this *hides*. The poem is in the fic, but the setting is different. Hope you still enjoy, Nonny! :)


Lallybroch, August 1745 (Show!verse)

“A bit like old times, isn’t it?” I said, flicking hay scraps from my bannock. “Was Leoch two years ago now, or three? Feels like ten.”

Jamie and I were taking a mid-afternoon snack in the stables, both needing distraction from thoughts of tomorrow’s journey. Jamie had been working tirelessly with Ian, their days spent strategizing our appeal for Old Lovat’s support. I, meanwhile, had been gathering the necessary medicines for prolonged travel, as a swift return to Lallybroch seemed increasingly unlikely. Further word of Charles’ plans had reached Broch Mordha, and all of it alluded to months on the road.

Fortunately, I had found a helper in Rabbie’s mother. Mary MacNab was an earnest woman, eager to please and obey instruction, though to something of a fault. I’d been agitated all day as she’d twittered at my elbow (“D’ye need anything else?”; “Is this how ye do it?”) and eventually fled to the stables for an hour’s peace.

“We were wed in the summer, so…” Jamie squinted, considering. “About two years, then.”

“Mmm, two years married to a savage.”

“Regret it, do ye?”

“Never,” I said, smiling. “But it’s rather strange to think we hardly knew each other two years ago.”

“We’ve always known each other, Sassenach. Whether we realized it or no,” Jamie replied, and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek. 

“But aye. To think two years ago we were sitting in Auld Alec’s stables – you, Claire Beauchamp, and me, an outlaw wi’ a price on his head.” He brightened suddenly, glowing with mischief. “Though I guess no’ much has changed in some respects. I wanted to bed ye back then just as much as I want to bed ye now.”

“Good to know I can always count on that, at least.”

I broke off a piece of bannock and tossed it into his open mouth, though he pulled a face as he chewed. 

“Not to your liking? I could pick some grass…” I teased, remembering the story he’d told me once. “I do know how fond you are of it.”

“Verra funny, Sassenach – but nay, I’ve a hunger for something else today.” 

One red brow arched in suggestion, rising high above a twitching eye. I laughed as I always did at the graceless lowering of the eyelid, the scrunched face compensating for its stubborn left side. My husband, Jamie Fraser – capable in all but the winking of his eyes.

“Grass may be good when you’ve nothing else – and it keeps the scurvy away, too. But I’m free of the scurvy, see?” He beamed for my benefit, exposing a neat row of teeth set in healthy gums. I faked applause. “I am fair starved, though. A man needs a proper feast after his labors, aye?”

“A feast, is it?” I replied, making a point to raise my own brow. I feigned more playful ignorance. “Well, there’s plenty of potatoes to go around. That ought to do the trick.”

“I dinna want potatoes,” Jamie replied, the word bursting with disgust. “I’ve had more potatoes than any man should.”

“More than anyone should, I’d wager,” and I jokingly held out an arm for inspection. “Have I turned into a potato yet? I swear I’m starting to look like one.”

Since unearthing Lallybroch’s successful crop, our diet had consisted of little else. Whether boiled, mashed, or baked, we’d prepared the vegetable in every way imaginable – and a few, to Fergus’ credit, beyond imagination. The monotony had made some of the younger tenants creative, and they’d taken to piling their potatoes with whatever extras they could find. (“Try it, m’lady! It is quite good with syrup.”) Jamie, on the other hand, now ate them with his nose pinched, like a petulant child forced to eat his greens.

“Nay, ye look bonnie, Sassenach. And ye dinna taste like a potato, thank God.” Jamie pulled me towards him, and his tongue flicked the side of neck. “Plenty to go ‘round of what I do want, anyways.” His hand slid downwards in demonstration, palm cupping the round expanse of my bottom.

Too exhausted to play at mock-offense, I melted into him. “Well, who am I to stand between a man and his feast? Though I do wonder…Of gluttony and lust, which is the worse Deadly Sin?”

“They’re both sins, and they’re both ‘Deadly’,” Jamie replied, though his voice was suddenly distant. My cheek lay against his breast, and I counted his heartbeats as they tapped against my temple. Fast, powerful.

“I suppose one can suffer from a lustful gluttony…” I tickled Jamie’s leg but he didn’t acknowledge me, remaining still as stone despite my touch. “Jamie, are you listening?”

When I craned my neck to face him, his eyes were faraway, searching beyond the frame of the stable door. The fields shone bright beneath the sun, potato plants exploding in leafy, green blooms from stable to house. Most had produced a fruitful crop, the results of which now lay in piled sacks for storing. Still, we had made quick work of our supply since July, and thoughts had already turned to next year’s planting. Lallybroch would need enough to last through the winter – and whatever would follow it too. I knew Jamie worried.

“They’ll be all right, Jamie. Truly.” I waved my hand, encompassing the rows of potato plants as proof. “There really is enough to go around.”

“You said as there’d be a famine – after Culloden,” Jamie whispered, eyes breaking from his invisible horizon. “And ye were right in telling Jenny to plant the potatoes, Sassenach. But what if it isna enough?”

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Red

Dean x Reader

Summary: What happens after you die on a hunt?

Warnings: Mentions of gore and death. Brief cursing. Also, angst.

Requested by me~ 

This will be a two part series. Part 2 shall be up soon!

Originally posted by chrissie-chan



Red.

Red was everywhere.

It was pouring out in uncontrollable amounts onto the concrete below your weak body. 

Your breaths got quieter as you saw more red. He was above you in an instance, trying anything to stop the red.

But, he couldn’t. You remember him crying out your name as you slipped away. 

They say you live your life flashes before your eyes before you die. Images of you, Sam, and Dean in the Impala singing loudly to Led Zeppelin appear. The images soon fade to another scene-you three were sitting on the couch watching a shitty chick flick. And then the last image came. The lingering touches, the soft gazes, the love you felt for Dean filled your heart. 

And then the red stopped. All you saw was black.

~-~

He watched your eyes glaze over as you huffed out your last breath. He watched your body still, he heard your heartbeat stop. 

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, just a simple werewolf case. Sam was still researching when the werewolf attacked you and Dean in an ally. Your gun had been knocked out of your hand, and Dean was laying on the ground half-unconscious. You noticed the beast target him, and before you could think, you threw yourself in front and all you saw was red.

Dean hardly remembers viciously ripping the werewolf to shreds with a silver knife. He hardly remembers Sam pulling him off your body. All he remembers is seeing your beautiful eyes once full of hope die out.

Days passed, weeks passed. Time still passed without you. But, to him, it felt like time stood still, forcing him to live in agony without you everyday. 

He drowned his sorrows in whisky and beer, until he was sure he’d die of alcohol poisoning. He’d become reckless on hunts, silently hoping he wouldn’t make this one out alive. He was empty without you.

~-~

The darkness consumes you as all pain melts away. It’s peaceful here, quiet.

“Y/N?”

You turn around towards the unfamiliar voice, seeing a woman with dark brown hair standing by you. “Who are you?”

“Tessa.” Dean’s reaper.

You eye her skeptically. “I’m guessing you want me to come with you?” you ask knowingly.

She nods. “Don’t stay here and become the thing you hunt.”

You desperately want to go, but you know you’d leave Dean behind. But a ticket to a forever destination sounds very tempting. 

Hesitantly, you take her outstretched hand and close your eyes, awaiting your final destination. Puzzled when nothing happens, you open your eyes to find her somewhat shocked one. 

Suddenly, a blinding light overthrows you. When you open your eyes, it’s bright and unfamiliar. When your eyes finally adjust to the light, you notice you’re in a hotel room. Was this just a dream?

You look for anything to find where you are, grinning when you see a pamphlet with the name of the hotel on it. 

When you try to grasp it, your hand goes right through it, surprising you. You try desperately to grab anything, but alas, no progress. Running your fingers through your hair, you pace around the room, but stop when you see your reflection in the mirror. 

You’re pale, and in the same outfit as the day you died. Then you notice the long deep scratch on your abdomen, dried blood along your shirt.

You were a spirit. 

A reaper came for you and you went with it, so why were you still here?

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing a very worn down Dean. You panic and try to hide, noticing your skin and body turn transparent. 

He apparently didn’t see you as he slumped on the bed after taking a drink of whisky. He lay and stared at the ceiling for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket.

When you see the familiar piece of jewelry, you’re hit with nostalgia. Dean had given you that bracelet on your birthday a few years back. He’d carved it himself, leaving a rough signature, much like the one in the Impala. You never took it off.

Your heart swells with emotion before you notice the lights flicker and Dean’s breath coming out in cold puffs. He seems to notice it too, grabbing a salt gun and holy water. 

“Who’s there?” he asks cautiously, circling the room. The gun frightens you a bit, and soon, it’s thrown on the ground away from him. Your powers were stronger than you thought. 

Before he can retrieve it, you make yourself visible. He almost drops the flask of holy water as he sees you.

“Y/N?” 

Dean Tag List~ @prob8850 @skybinx-blog @torn-and-frayed @its-my-perky-nipples @trinityjadec @poemwriter98 @assbutt-jones-at-law @kalifosterxx @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @deanscherrypie @deandoesthingstome @kittenofdoomage @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @supernatural-jackles @donnaintx @aprofoundbondwithdean @umaakomton @danamarie2123-blog @mogaruke @kickasscas67

open.

        Woah, woah– Easy now, take it easy. I ain’t gonna hurt you. What happened? Are you alright? I heard– some awful kinda noise.  

Hands are raised up in front of him to show he means no harm, and the look on his face suggests that all he wants to do is help. Deacon looks every bit the innocent, caring bystander– there’s no hint of the wolf lurking beneath the sheep’s clothing.

anonymous asked:

Amir was walking through the forest as he past you,Not sensing you near him he shifted into his natural form. Black cat-like hairs/fur growing over all over his body as his clothes faded,Leaving him in shorts.His mewled as he crouched down,When he stood back up his ears where more pointed and his tail was free,Flicking about behind him. He climbed up the nearest tree,Curling up on a branch,He had just noticed you and was watching you,His emerald eyes watching curiously. [Uh hello]

(Hello!)

Jen had been walking around the forest, herself lost as she tried to find the way back to the creek, her home.

She heard footsteps behind her, making her stiffen and dive into the bushes

It was a couple minutes until she saw a man walk past her, walking briskly.

He didn’t see her

He then started to change, black hair, cat ears, and a tail appeared in minutes, he then mewled and climbed up a tree.

Jen laid low, still watching him slightly

anonymous asked:

not sure if you do these request but nct as chick flicks lol

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* NCT! AS CHICK FLICKS *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

    johnny  ♡ how to be single

    hansol  ♡ drop dead gorgeous

    taeil  ♡  divine secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood

    taeyong  ♡ mean girls

    yuta  ♡ mystic pizza

    doyoung  ♡ friends with benefits

    ten  ♡ bridesmaids

    jaehyun  ♡ the notebook

    winwin  ♡ legally blonde

    mark  ♡ the sweetest thing

    haechan  ♡ clueless

    renjun  ♡ the princess diaries

    chenle  ♡ under the tuscan sun

    jeno  ♡ bring it on

    jaemin  ♡ how to lose a guy in 10 days

    jisung  ♡ where heart is

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚

Alicia Clarke Knife Sneak Peek

Everything Alicia does is calculated and planned. This is one of her greatest assets. She flicks her knife, a skill she probably stayed up late many night to home. She also plays with her knife to calm her nerves. The repetitive movements now so familiar and comforting. The flicks of her wrist can also count time. One second passed her knife moves to the closed position. Start again. Another second and she looks out to spoke another walker. She ticks off the bodies she sees walking passed the door. That’s all they are in her logical mind now, just bodies, easier to kill that way. Finally she knows there is no more point in waiting. She readies herself. Tying her boots tightly and pulling her hair back. She won’t be an easy target because of her long curls and she also won’t have her vision hindered if her hair gets in her face. She’s ready and of course her heart pounds. Alicia is probably the type to speak positive affirmations to herself. Because even with all her hard work getting a kind word from her family was difficult when everyone was always so worried about Nick. Oh Nick. The thought of her older brother gives her pause and she looks through the peep hole one last time to see just like so many times before in her life the threat is much closer to home than she would like.


Fandom:    DRRR!!
Pairing:      Izuo
Rating:       Post-booty cuddling
Gift:            A belated birthday present for @nozoya!
Summary:  Spot the plot!


The way Izaya’s thumb moved against the lighter was a little amateurish, but it ignited all the same. It’s awkward to light something so cheap, he reasoned as he moved it toward the cigarette that dangled from between Shizuo’s lips, and the angle was all off, anyway.

Shizuo eyed Izaya closely but maneuvered the cigarette regardless, taking a deep breath in as the tip began to glow red. Izaya kept the lighter there for a moment longer than necessary, then extinguished it with a flick of his wrist. He tossed it carelessly to the floor but didn’t bother to watch where it landed. If Shizuo can’t find it, he’ll smoke less, and that’s hardly a bad thing.

“Too skinny.” Shizuo pulled the cigarette out from between his lips and tried to readjust himself on the bed, pushing his head into Izaya’s chest playfully as he did. “You’re gonna fuck my neck up.”

Feigning offense, Izaya scoffed as he circled an arm around Shizuo’s waist. His fingers brushed against the soft skin there, almost tickling Shizuo with how light they were against him. He tilted his head down, resting his lips against the mop of hair lying against his chest.

“Maybe if Shizu-chan left something for me to eat…” The head on his chest moved in a way Izaya could only describe as childish. “Maybe I’d be a better pillow.”

The head shifted again, followed by the body, and Shizuo awkwardly rolled onto his back so that his head could rest in Izaya’s lap. The sheets pulled around them uncomfortably, but neither seemed to pay it much mind.

“I don’t eat everything, you don’t have anything good.” Shizuo brought the cigarette to his lips and took a quick drag, then puffed it out toward Izaya, smiling smugly at the way the informant wrinkled his nose. “You only have weird stuff.”

Having ignored Shizuo’s ridiculous comment, Izaya ran his fingers through the bleached mop gently, occasionally allowing his nails scratch against the scalp beneath. The action was simple, but had Shizuo almost purring, and his eyes slipping to half-mast.

“It’s better if you don’t eat vegetables. You don’t need to grow any stronger than you are.” Izaya’s free hand moved to rest against Shizuo’s naked hip, but whether he meant for it to stop atop the finger marks he’d left there earlier is debatable. “Maybe if I eat what Shizuo eats as well, I’ll become a monster.”

Shizuo puffed another drag of cigarette smoke up at Izaya, his cheeks tinged pink at the use of his first name. His eyes slipped closed as Izaya leaned down toward him, smiling despite himself as dark hair brushed against his forehead.

The kiss he’d expected didn’t come, and he groaned as Izaya’s fingers plucked the cigarette away from him. When he opened his eyes again, Izaya is leaned toward the bedside table, obviously crushing the cigarette in the ashtray.

“You smoke too much.” Izaya explained bitterly, then shifted himself back into place. “It tastes disgusting.”

“Tch. Like you can talk about being disgusting.”

Despite his slight annoyance, Shizuo closed his eyes as Izaya started to play with his hair once again. His breathing slowed, becoming steadier and more relaxed, and he smiled shyly when something soft pressed against his forehead.

As he fell asleep, he wondered if the Izaya he’d inevitably dream of would make him feel even half as happy as the real one did.

31 Days of Positivity: Day 29: Surprise

Sorry it’s late! I also tried super hard to write in past tense. This was an error, I feel. Never mind!  This is a bit longer at 1k so I’ve cut it to save your dashes.

(Almost) all the smol things are now on AO3 HERE for ease of access!)

It had hit her like a tonne of bricks, and it was all Snow White’s fault.

Okay, so It wasn’t her mom’s fault, not really, but she could certainly be blamed for bringing it up in the first place.

It had started over lunch one day, her mother bouncing Neal on her hip whilst furiously flicking through a toy catalogue, the afternoon’s discussion centering mainly on whether it was even worth buying birthday presents for a child whose favourite toy remained their own feet.

“This is the easy part,” Snow had groused, folding over the corner of the page with the loudest, brightest offerings, “what am I going to do when he grows up? Boys are so hard to buy for.”

Emma had raised her eyebrows and smiled over the brim of her coffee cup.

“Henry’s easy enough. Comic books and computers or any combination thereof and you’re set.”

Snow had hummed in agreement, then tilted her head to the side, fixing Emma with suddenly shrewd eyes.

“Your father’s a nightmare though, every year he asks for sheep, and every year I tell him we don’t even have a yard. What do you get for Killian? Or don’t I want to know?”

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Gnedby mi ero illusa, non basti
#igersroma #ikea #dvd #dvddatutteleparti #dvdcollection #films #film #favfilms #cinefilia #cinephile #cinecameretta 📺 #movies #toptags #theatre @top.tags #video #movie #cinema #instamovies #goodmovie #instagood #flick #flicks #instaflick #instaflicks

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Flour // Sirius Black

A/N: Hi! I’m writing again, which always makes me super nervous because I always hate reading over my writing. If you have any tips or ideas on how to get better at writing, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Sirius Black was dramatic. Everyone knew it, and he knew it himself. It was your birthday tomorrow and he wanted to bake you your favourite, chocolate chip cookies. However, he wanted to bake them the muggle way instead of using magic, which he thought was dramatic enough because who would want to do hard labour when you could flick your wrist and it would be done for you? And here he was, 11 at night baking your beloved cookies. He had the recipe in his right hand, looking it over, he began collecting the ingredients.

Yawning, you stretched and patted where Sirius was supposed to be. Alarmed you clumsily jumped out of bed and went down stairs. It smelt like vanilla, and chocolate? You rushed into the kitchen to see a sleeping Sirius with flour everywhere. Not just on the kitchen table but on the floor, in the sink, and even on himself. Laughing, you stepped over him and saw cookies. There was a platter of cookies and you squealed in delight, waking up Sirius in the process.
Aching back, he groaned and rolled over into more flour trying to fix the knot in his back. Eventually picking himself up he hugged you from behind. “Happy birthday Y/N,” he whispered, causing you to giggle and mumble a thank you, which was incoherent due to the cookie in your mouth.
“How are they?” He asked, voice sounding grainy due to just waking up. You hadn’t answered him, but the beam of a smile on your face and the joy in your eyes was all the answer he needed.
You had placed yourself onto the kitchen counter, a black t-shirt that was just above your knees. Sirius was standing between your legs and hugging you, and it was sweet, really.
When he pulled back to look at you he noticed the flour that covered your t-shirt. Stifling a laugh, his cheeks going rosy from holding the laugh in.
Looking down at your flour covered t-shirt, you crossed your arms and pouted. “You are so lucky these cookies are good,” you mumbled. Sirius scoffed, because he was Sirius Black and could do anything. “I’m offended! Did you really think I was that terrible at cooking?” As he feigned hurt. Picking up another cookie, you nodded and reached out to hug him, but he stepped back.
Enraptured, Sirius walked back to the girl who he thought an angel and hugged you tight. Leaning back, peppering kisses from your nose, to your cheek and to your forehead. He grasped your head and hugged it to his chest.
You wouldn’t tell him that you could hear his heartbeat racing, though.

The Usual

There was no love in the kiss, no sense of longing in the hands that roamed about her body. There was no urgency, nothing but a state of calm, almost like it was simply business as usual.

And that’s what it was for the two of them, a norm. An outlet for physical wants in an attempt to sate emotional need; loveless sex in an attempt to sate the carnal desires they had for someone else in their respective hearts.

Nico returned the kiss and Umi deepened it. The disciplined girl had grown to be a really fine woman to look at, to have sex with, but she was no Maki. She wasn’t the married redhead Nico hopelessly loved, desperately wanted to make love to.

But she wasn’t complaining. She was no Eli herself after all.

More articles of clothing came off and the light fondles were now punctuated with appreciative gropes, kisses accented with light flicks of the tongue and a little suckling of the lip.

Business as usual.

The Golden Mage’s Captive, chapter 4 (An Alternate Telling of @canimallow‘s Mage’s Captive Fics)

Preview:

His fingers curled into a fist in her hair, holding her tight. Lips brushing against her ear, he whispered, “Push me, and you might find yourself sleeping at the foot of my bed, like a proper little pet.”

She shuddered in his grasp, a tingling warmth curling through her as he leaned just a bit lower, still.

He dragged the very edge of his teeth along her throat, the tip of his tongue darting out to flick and trace over her pulse in a wet line.

* * * * *

Hermione started awake, immediately blinking her bleary eyes to clear them. The bedroom she’d been brought to earlier swam into focus around her.

A dream? Oh, thank God! She was too busy being relieved that she’d only imagined that to worry on the fact that she’d just dreamed about Throfinn Rowle nipping and lapping at her throat.

But what if that had happened? The last thing she remembered was sitting at the table, exhaustion sinking into her bones as she finished the last spoonful of the delicious soup Reina had made.

And now she was here … and Thorfinn had said he’d return to the kitchen after she’d had time to finish … .

She turned her head, taking in the other side of the bed. The covers were not so much as rumpled. Lifting the blankets over her, she gave herself a look. Her robe was wrapped snuggly around her body, the belt still securely tied; shifting just a little told her the knickers she’d slipped on after drying from her mess of a shower were still in place.

“You’re awake, good,” Reina’s voice cut into the room, startling Hermione. “Oh, sorry, I just … .” She pushed the door open a bit further, revealing a tea service cart.

Hermione brightened at the sight of a covered plate and a tea pot, two cups upside-down upon the tray. That could only mean the other witch planned to have tea with her while she ate.

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Hermione said, pushing herself to sit up, finally. “How long was I asleep?”

Reina pushed the cart up to the side of the bed and busied herself with pouring them each a cup of tea. “About eighteen hours. You needed the rest though,” she tacked on that second part when a look of concern flooded the other witch’s face.

“I, um, I don’t remember how I got up here.”

“Not surprised. You fell asleep at the table. Finnie carried you up here and then left to answer a summons from You Know Who.”

Hermione darted her gaze about the room. So, that little dream was solely her imagination. Fan-bloody-tastic.

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Chapter One

Impressing Rose Tyler

Greetings and salutations, friends!  I’ve cooked up this story for @timepetalsprompts drabble prompt “Pleased”. 

Nine x Rose

Fluff, fluff, fluff!

Word Count: *cough* 497 *cough*  My drabbles need to go on diets…


Impressing Rose Tyler

“Where to?” he asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.  

Rose cocked an eyebrow and grinned.  “Dunno. You’re the tour guide, Doctor. Impress me.”  

He straightened his leather jacket and tried to hide his enthusiasm. With a flicking of switches and a pressing of buttons, he landed the ship on Polatrin on the cusp of winter.

“Ready?” he asked her with a hint of a smile.

Rose stepped out of the TARDIS and shivered.  The Doctor’s hand pressed at the small of her back and she took another tentative step forward. A harsh wind blew cold and fierce, but she didn’t mind.  Snug and warm in a thick jumper, a heavy coat, and fleece-lined boots, she took in the beautiful landscape.  Dark green pine trees stood tall in front of them.  A few knobby bushes, their limbs twisted and misshapen, poked up through the undergrowth. A thick layer of snow was underfoot, in varying shades of blue and light purple.  

“It’s from the minerals in the water here,” the Doctor explained.  “Because of that, you’ll want to make sure you don’t eat any of it.  Not exactly toxic, but I’m guessing you’d have a bit of a tummy-ache if you happened to ingest some.”  

Fresh snow crunched under their shoes as they walked down a slight slope.  They rounded a corner and came out of the woods.  Rose gasped at the sight before her.

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