warming soup

Collision Course; Voltron Legendary Defender AU: Dads of Marmora; gen; 5,300+ words; PG-13; mentions of violence, tiny hints of Ulaz/Thace, but so little you have to squint with a telescope or something

Credit for this AU goes to @drisrt and this amazing picture that inspired this story. Also some lines of the dialogue are taken from the Blades of Marmora episode of Voltron.

Posted on AO3, too.


Keith gets adopted by the Galra empire rebellion, basically.

Keith has barely three years of life on his cells, has barely grown up to his Father’s knees and into his Mother’s laugh when he’s thrown into the first sense of flying, of fleeing, of his Father solemnly reading through the coordinates Keith doesn’t understand, that Keith thinks are just a pretty game of lights, lights that remind him of his Mom’s knife.

He’s holding it, holding onto it, tries to find the connection between the numbers and the faintest of glows, illuminating the insides of his fingers, misses how his Dad flinches when he asks: “When will Mom catch up to us?” already sleepy, already curling up beneath the safety straps of his seat.

Gently, his Father’s jacket is tucked around him and the scent is the lullaby that sings him into dazed, motionless dreams, the remnants of home, the flickers of the unknown.

(He sleeps through the harsh descent, the crib of his Father’s arms, the hushed ambush, the quietest of heists.)

He sleeps through it all.

Keep reading

Hufflepuff Headcanon #4

There is a magical cabinet in the Hufflepuff common room filled with all sorts of comfort food. Tomato soup, warm mac and cheese, cups of warm melted chocolate with shredded wheat, you name it. No one knows when this cabinet came to existence, but everyone just assumes it was quite long ago because over the years, the cabinet has become a mini-supermarket with multiple floors. You will probably find Hufflepuffs perusing the shelves or, if they’re in a rush, making food fly to them with their wands, at any time of day, especially late at night.

Every year it grows bigger and bigger because new students are constantly introducing new comfort foods. The creators of this cabinet made it so that the cabinet restocks magically by itself so that students don’t have to sneak to the kitchen during late night study sessions and risk getting caught. They can simply walk across the room and find exactly what they want in that cabinet. 

sitting inside one of my favorite coffee shops with one of my favorite people. it’s raining outside, my dream house is right across the street, i have ben howard playing, and i have time to simply d r e a m. it’s been a while since i’ve had the privilege of time to myself.

i’m dreaming of this house right across the street: it’s wood shake siding, brick chimney, big trees surrounding it, warm lights in the attic, and small front yard. it’s secluded while simultaneously being in the middle of the city. i dream of owning a home just like this very one; minneapolis is good at combining city living + lots of trees and lakes, so i’m thankful that that dream isn’t so unrealistic here. i dream of filling the house with a family and lots of food and laughter and love. i dream of slow sundays where the house smells like warm soup and pjs are worn all day. i dream of waking up early and walking across the street to the coffee shop i sit in right now to have a cup of coffee while i read the newspaper. i dream of flower boxes and cozy friday nights and favorite songs floating throughout the house. i dream of quiet, rainy saturday afternoons where we keep the windows open to hear + smell the rain while we read books and soft, classical music plays in the background. i dream of walking our pup through the neighborhood with friends and then having them over for dinner + wine + real conversation out in the front yard under string lights. i dream of you, of you, of you doing all of this alongside me. my heart hurts with how far i feel from you, with how far all of this dream feels. at the same time, though, my heart is hopeful for this. for you.

Chicken Soup

Daddy married a new lady. She’s supposed to be my new mommy but I don’t like her very much, and ever since she started living here I’ve been getting sick.

She’s very good at pretending to be a good mommy. She gives me fresh soup and warm tea with all the honey I want. But she’s still not mommy. She’ll never be mommy.

I cry and cry to daddy for him to send her away but he tells me to hush. He tells me that she is doing her very best. That she cries over my health. I should give her a chance.

And the more she takes care of me, the sicker I get. I get so sick, that I end up in a hospital! The doctors make me better, and send me home after a few days.

And then I get sick all over again.

And it happens again and again and again, until the nurses know me by name. The doctors like to ask my daddy lots of questions about mommy. A strange man in a suit and a nice smile talked to me about her too.

I’m so happy. Daddy says my fake mommy was going away, and I’ll never see her again. He looks so mad, but I know he’s not mad at me.

He doesn’t know I was the one pouring bleach in the soup she used to give me.

*All My Fault* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked:

Do you think you could possibly do an imagine where the reader and Newt are best friends but when Newt meets Tina he starts to ignore the reader. During the battle with Graves Newt gets really hurt while protecting the reader and Tina tells the reader to back off because it’s her fault. Can the reader act like everything’s fine but slowly stop eating and sleeping because of guilt until Newt notices. Lots of angst but a happy ending please. I hope this isn’t any trouble. Thank you!

This does include a salty, mean Tina. So beware. Take note I am not a Tina hater! But if you don’t like Tina written in a negative light, then this probably isn’t for you >.< That’s all! Carry on ^_^

Your stop in New York City alongside your best friend, Newt Scamander, had become a bit more adventurous than you two had initially planned. Unfortunately, some of Newt’s creatures had escaped his magical case and were scattered throughout the city. With the help of the new ‘friends’ you had made, you tried to work together to recapture them.

You didn’t dislike the new people you had met. In fact, Queenie was perhaps your favorite. Her constant smile and bubbly personality were welcoming and you warmed up to her rather quickly. Jacob, the no maj, was friendly and caring; someone you definitely enjoyed being around. Tina, however, seemed to capture Newt’s attention quite quickly and ever since he had spend nearly most of his time with her. Besides the fact that she had tried to turn you both in to MACUSA, Newt seemed to fancy her and seemed to pay less attention to you which honestly made you feel pretty awful. Newt had been by your side for years and you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was like the sun in the sky and the stars at night for you. 

You were currently in search of one of Newt’s creatures, the Demiguise also known to you and Newt as Dougal. You were inside a Department store that was adorned in Christmas decorations and you were all huddled behind a giant mass of decorative wrapped gifts. 

Keep reading

Faith's totally accurate summary of the Ninjago Movie characters so far

-Ready to FIGHT!
- Actual embodiment of teen angst.
-”I hate my dad. nO DAD LOOK AT ME!!”
-Abandonment issues that would make a shoujo anime character blush
-Constantly on the verge of crying
-Needs a hug
-And a nice warm blanket with some soup and a movie

-Still channeling his inner anime protagonist.
-Looks at everyone to see if he should be ready.
-Turn that frown upside down.
-Treats his mecha like a Michael Bay Transformer
-Just stands there awkwardly looking around but plays it cool

-Is ready to FIGHT version 2.0
-Will comfort you if you need it
-An actual angel
-But can also totally kick your ass.
-I think her vehicle is like a spider??? Like one of those water spiders, whatever they’re called.

-2 kool for u man
-Do you own a proper shirt???
-Or scissors?
-Will probably drop the bass at some point
-Silent Anime Protagonist
-Edgy leans up against a motorcycle
-Has that one Decepticon from the beginning of Transformer Revenge of the fallen???
-Is really good at video games apparently???
-Is probably a huge fucking nerd.

-Is just happy to be here.
-Has an iPod on his gi???
-Soulless eyes
-Might eat your soul who knows
-What is his vehicle it’s like a mobile triangle.

-Awkward nerd who is doing his best
-Must be protected at all costs
-Will give you diabetes because of how sweet he is.
-An actual bird

Chicken and Quinoa Soup: Ever taken a recipe there was absolutely nothing wrong with and decided you just couldn’t do it like everyone else? There was certainly nothing wrong with chicken and noodle soup but I had to go and screw that all up. That’s why I love soup and stew dishes, you can just sort of chuck stuff in a pot and it’s great! That, and they freeze well, which I love planned laziness.

For boiling the chicken and making a quick stock (to add additional liquid to finished soup)

  • 1 ½ - 2 lbs of boneless, skinless chicken breast
  • 1 lemon, cut into slices
  • zest of lemon
  • 1 tsp dried rosemary
  • ½ tsp thyme
  • ½ tsp salt

Directions: Just toss everything in the pot. Cover it with enough water to submerge it by a few inches, once boiling bring the heat down to not overflow the pot, once chicken is cooked through strain the liquid through a colander into a bowl, set the liquid aside, and discard the scraps left in the colander (lemon rinds, dried herbs, etc.) Once the chicken is cooled significantly, pull it with your fingers.

  • 2 TBSP oil, such as olive
  • half of a large yellow onion, diced
  • 2 stalks of celery, rinsed and diced
  • 3-5 cloves of garlic (depending on clove size)
  • 1 medium sweet potato, scrubbed and cubed (or use some carrots instead if you prefer)
  • 1-8 oz container of mushrooms (white or brown)
  • 1 ½ cups frozen peas
  • 1 cup frozen green beans
  • ¼ cup of dry sherry
  • juice of a lemon
  • 1 ½ tsp salt (ultimately, to taste)
  • ½ tsp black pepper (to taste)
  • 3 TBSP dried parsley (could use fresh)
  • ½ TBSP dried rosemary
  • 1 tsp dried thyme
  • pulled chicken
  • 1 quart (or liter) of chicken stock
  • the contents of your “quick” stock
  • 2 cups quinoa (any color, cooked to packet instruction)

Directions: Prepare vegetables. In a large pan heat up olive oil over a medium heat and cook down the onion and garlic until soft and fragrant. Next, add celery and sweet potato (or carrot). Remember to always salt in layers, so let’s add a little right now and stir it all up! Cook down those vegetables until fragrant. Now, add the dried herbs and black pepper, coat the vegetables, and let them warm up a bit to release their fragrance. Hit it with some wine and let it have a little simmer. At this time add the pulled chicken, mushrooms, the stock, the quick stock you made when cooking the chicken, and another hit of salt. Bring the heat up to high until the contents of the pot begin to boil, and then bring it down to low to gently simmer. Off to the side in a smaller pan, prepare your quinoa according to your packet’s instruction. Once the quinoa is cooked and the sweet potatoes in the soup pot begin to become fork tender, add in the prepared quinoa, the peas, the green beans, and your finishing salt. Complete it with a spritz of fresh lemon juice, and let the contents continue to simmer until the potato is fully prepared.

|| more than that ||

I’m now gonna make you readers thirst for s/gar d/ddy peter parker. 👅

and just for clarification, both peter and the reader are 24 years old.

tags: @suerayamz

warnings: the concept of having a s/gar d/ddy, smut

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story.


Despite all of his well deserved success, Peter Parker swore to never let it get to his head. Remaining true to his promise to Aunt May, he never once changed his personality or outlook on life.

Even now, when he was as rich as his former mentor Tony Stark, Peter made sure that he was still the same old nerd he always had been.

Keep reading

Lemme get real with you super quick fam. Prayer is SO important. We are instructed to literally pray without ceasing. And it is amazing. Big prayers, small prayers, and every prayer and thanksgiving in between. But when you see someone shivering on the sidewalk in the middle of winter, you don’t just say, “I’ll pray for them.” You take off your jacket, put it around them, bring them into a cafe and buy them a warm drink or some soup or both. When your friend is married and having a disagreement with his/her spouse and threatening to get a divorce, you don’t just say, “I’ll pray for them.” And leave it at that. You speak truth and love with gentleness and grace that God designed marriage beautifully and intentionally and that nowhere in the design does it say to walk away when things get hard. When you see injustices in the world like starving children, your lesbian best friend being afraid of coming to church because of the hate she will receive, your own family members speaking terribly about the refugees in your community whom you love and adore, you don’t JUST say, “I’ll pray for them.” You get off your ass and take action. You show them Jesus in unimaginable ways. You take their hand, carry their bags that hold the weight of their burdens, and walk with them to the feet of the Cross to lay them before their Maker. Prayer is so important, y'all. But God is a living God and we need to be a living people.

Brighid is waking up early, when the sun has just risen, and taking a walk through the dew-drenched streets, listening to the birds beginning to sing.

Brighid is hiking up a hill or mountain on a hot summer’s day, just to dip your sweat-soaked body into the cool spring at the top.

Brighid is filling your kitchen with cooking smells, and eating warm, potato leek soup on a cold winter day.

Brighid is handknit socks, shawls, mittens, and sweaters.

Brighid is cotton sundresses with gaudy floral prints.

Brighid is opening your home to your friends, and proudly offering them food, drink, love, and comfort.

Brighid is. Brighid is. Brighid is.

My 20 year old husband - [Day 9 : War of Hormones]

20 yr old Jungkook, at the top of his idol boyband career, has a secret only he & his bandmates know – An underground relationship, with you, a girl he met at a fanmeeting. Things get a little out of hand and you find out you’re pregnant.

Read: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8 / Day 9

Keep reading

Home, Sick

For one of the most amazing writers on Tumblr, @funkzpiel . Also I thought I was being clever playing on “homesick” and “home sick” for “I’m at home, sick” so yeah. I’m really bad at titles. Sue me (don’t, really).

It’s a Monday when Percival Graves falls ill, not that he admits that. His nose is runny and itches horribly, his throat is scratchy, and his eyes keep watering to the point he looks like he’s in constant tears. Because he’s not. Crying, that is, or sick. He doesn’t get sick. Anyone who says he gets sick is getting fired. When Percival walks into the Major Investigations Department, leaning a little more heavily onto his cane (which he won’t admit he needs whilst his knee is healing from the Grindelwald fiasco, but really no one is surprised he’s being so bull-headed) and with perspiration lining his paler than usual face, his people immediately look to the schedule they have drawn up on the whiteboard. They call it the “Percival Graves care chart”, and they each take turns to try to get the director to admit he’s sick and try to get him to go home. They don’t always succeed, and sometimes it takes a combination of cajoling from several people and threats from Madame Picquery that she’s placing him on house arrest to get the man to, very grudgingly, concur that he’s not feeling well and needs rest. Their current success rate is at a 5 to 2; the 2 failures were when two Aurors, on two separate occasions, thought they could take the director on in a duel. They ended up being sent to the medical wing, each suffering a nasty concussion and a warning letter to never, ever challenge Percival to a duel again. Ever.

It’s Auror Goldstein’s turn today to try and get Percival to go home and rest, and she groans when her colleagues give her pats on the back and murmuring their sympathy, although she knows they’re all secretly relieved it’s not their turn. Because of course it would be her turn just when Newt was back in London. Of course it would be her turn when their sure fire backup plan can’t work because there’s no Newt to back them up. Not that Percival gives in that easily to Newt; the man is determined to prove his Aurors wrong when he hears about this supposed theory that Newt is able to get him to do things no one else can. Because Newt can’t. Percival does things because he wants to, not because Newt bats his blue eyes and those freckles look oh so charming and – No. Percival Graves does not submit to Newt Scamander. Or anyone.

Anyway. Tina squares her shoulders and readies her wand before she goes into Percival’s office, just in case. It’s a good three hours of shouting and banging and wincing from the Aurors (Madame Picquery’s made an appearance to remind them she’s not dealing with the paperwork that comes from either person killing the other on a Monday) before they both emerge. Tina’s breathing heavily with disheveled clothes, dragging a barely conscious Percival by the collar. He’s using what little coherence he has left to grumble at Tina -you’ll be stuck in Wand Permits for the rest of unintelligible slurs- but Tina has zero fucks to give. She forces him into his coat and makes him stand properly so they can leave the Woolworth building with his dignity still in- Mr Graves I swear to god if you don’t stop whining, you’re going to explain to everyone why you’re hog tied and floating through the entire building. He shuts up, not entirely, but enough that she can properly Apparate them to his fancy apartment without splinching them. Because Newt is a mother bear and frankly, she’d rather take on an angry Percival and not an angry Newt and his band of creatures, who’ve come to be ridiculously protective of Percival.

Percival’s half gone by the time she gets the door open and the wards disarmed, and she’s grateful because at least he’s not fighting her tooth and nail. She’s gentler now, coaxing the tired man to remove his shoes before helping him into his room. He’s at least cognizant enough to change into more comfortable sweatpants, leaving his upper torso bare, to which Tina blushes because he’s her boss and he has a rather attractive chest, sculpted but not overly so, with a sprinkle of greying hairs and several scars. She busies herself by Summoning several blankets but doesn’t magic them on and around him. One by one, she wraps the layers of blankets around the drowsy man, snug enough that he feels warm but not too tight that he might suffocate. She nearly coos when only the top of his head is visible from the blanket wrap she made, but refrains and lowers him onto the bed. He’s out before she’s even done, and she tenderly brushes his now loose hair away from his face. He looks softer, less severe and the perpetual lines on his face are lighter. She thinks he looks terribly snuggleble (neither Tina nor the writer are sure if this is even a word) and that Newt’s presence in his life might have something to do with it.  

Newt’s not due to be back for another day, and Percival makes her promise, under pain of death and the loss of her job, that she’d not contact the magizoologist and call him away from his duties. So Tina stays for the day, and Queenie joins her. He wakes up several times, during which either sister is always on hand to make sure he drinks enough water and eats the warm soup Queenie’s prepared. He barely speaks 10 words to them, communicating with grunts and occasional growls but Queenie isn’t as deterred by his crabbiness as her sister is.  She merely offers him her usual bubbly smile and she catches fragments of thoughts which feel like grudging acceptance and a hum of contentedness underneath the sick and the grump. She even spies a tiny smile when she’s singing whilst cleaning up the clutter in his home. The blonde thinks it’s a nice smile, and tells him so. She thinks the shy Percival that emerges then is her favourite and pecks him on the cheek. The spot where she kisses him is bright red and so is his entire face.

Percival makes the Goldstein sisters go to work the next day, and insist that he’ll be fine alone. They aren’t convinced, but his fever has gone down and he’s well enough to bark orders at them, so they go to work, leaving abundant supplies of warm meals and instructions to call them because good grief Mr Graves, if Newt comes home to find your dead body, I’ll tell your corpse I told you so. He’s strangely touched at the care they’ve shown him, and he makes a note to put in Tina’s name for a promotion that’s coming up next month, and to send Queenie an order of baked goods from that No-Maj bakery downtown that she seems to love. He’ll deny these accusations when they ask him about it, after Tina gets her promotion and Queenie is surprised by a Mr Kowalski delivering the baked goods to her, but Tina offers him a bright smile now whenever she passes him and Queenie gives him the best coffee ever every day, so he thinks he’s not as successful at hiding his actions as he thinks he is.

Newt comes home in the evening, tired after a long journey and ready to cuddle with Percival, when he notices the apartment is deathly quiet, and Pickett is chittering about a smell of sickness in their home. Cautiously, wand out, the red-head makes way to their bedroom, with Pickett nervously peeking from the top of his pocket, leafy limbs swaying. There’s the muffled sound of cursing coming from inside the room, which confuses the man because isn’t Perce supposed to be at work now? He throws the door open, and is greeted by the sight of Percival Graves sprawled on the floor, blankets pooling around his legs. The sight is both adorable and confusing at the same time, even more so when Percival’s swearing becomes louder and he switches between English and something that sounds like Gaelic.

Newt, being Newt, blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. He’s not entirely sure why he says that, either.

“Oh, hello.”

Said swearing stops, and Percival cranes his neck upwards to take in the lanky form of his partner. He blinks, then tries to stand up. It’s a testament to his sheer bullheadedness that he manages to get halfway upright before wobbling and pitching forward, and it’s a good thing Newt’s limbs are long enough that he catches the falling man before his face meets the floor. Percival thus finds his face buried, somewhat uncomfortably, in the soft woolen material of Newt’s coat. His familiar scent of light sweat, his creatures and the fresh sting of grass, courtesy of Pickett no doubt, tickles Percival’s nose and makes him feel slightly better about being found face down on the floor.

He attempts a smile, which is so pathetic that Newt feels something in him melt, and on one hand, he just wants to cuddle his sick partner and nurse him to health. But sick Percival is a very rare occurrence and really, quite an adorable sight, and a (very small) sadistic part of Newt is thrilled that the normally powerful and unflappable man is so helpless and has to rely on him, and frankly, the little pout on Percival’s lips makes Newt wish he stays sick, if only so the pout stays. That’s not a very Newt-like thought though, so he quickly shakes it off and helps the sick man untangle his feet from the blankets and back to bed. That’s a thought he’ll be saving for the next time they’re both feeling adventurous. And not sick.

He’s tucking the blankets snugly around Percival and leaving to get some warm soup, when his partner catches him by the hand, and with a surprising amount of force, pulls him down for a kiss that’s at once sweet and soft and demanding. The red-head is blinking owlishly when Percival lets him go, a devilish grin on his still tired face. Despite his previous thoughts about Percival being at his mercy, Newt is blushing furiously at how dominant the other man is being, and he stammers an excuse before rushing off to the kitchen, long limbs nearly flailing. The older man snorts and smiles indulgently as he settles back into the pillows; that’ll teach Newt to leave him alone for so long (even though Newt’s been pacifying him since before he left, really Percival, it’s only 3 days you big baby! No, I have to leave n- STOP IT YOU KNOW I’M TICKLISH THERE). He sighs blissfully at the soothing sounds of clanging pots and pans and Newt’s rich tenor voice floating in from the kitchen, and his eyes flutter close as Newt’s singing about castles and rolling fields and going home and the last coherent thought he has before dropping off to sleep is that he’s glad he’s found his home in Newt.

Newt returns to their bedroom, warm soup and bread in hand when he’s greeted by the sight of Dougal curling around Percival’s head, the latter snoring peacefully as the Demiguise carefully grooms him. Dougal turns his bright yellow eyes at Newt and huffs softly, as if reminding the lanky man not to disturb Percival’s sleep. He’s always had a soft spot for Percival, sensing the hurt festering within the broken man after MACUSA managed to rescue him from Grindelwald. In a way, he was the one who initiated the relationship between Percival and Newt; the magizoologist was visiting Tina after she was reinstated as an Auror when Dougal forced his way out of the suitcase and leapt straight at a very surprised Percival. Their first meeting thus consisted of Percival trying to coax the determined Demiguise to relax his grip on his neck, not knowing if he should laugh or yell at Newt, and Newt mumbling an apology for Dougal’s behaviour.

Setting aside the soup on the nightstand with a stasis spell to keep it warm, Newt climbs into bed with Percival and Dougal, who carefully climbs over to the other side to accommodate Newt’s presence. Pickett, who’s still in his friend’s pocket, climbs out and nestles itself in Dougal’s warm fur, and Newt, still tired from his journey back from London, is lulled into Morpheus’s arms by the gently crooning of his Demiguise and Percival’s warmth. It’s really the best feeling ever, being home, and even though Percival’s hair tickles his nose and his snores are a little louder because of his stuffed nose, Newt thinks he’d not rather be anywhere than here.

No pouting Percy

Newt when he sees Dougal cuddling with Percival