#calefaction

[fanarchoslashivist]

They continued the line of teasing all the way into the mudroom of his little house, barely breaking the banter to store Bunny's art supplies and wash up.

Jack, loon that he was, happily flicking water from his fingertips into Bunny's face at a particularly accurate jibe. 

“Want to keep those hands?” Bunny asked him gruffly as he swatted the other with the face towel beside the sink.

“Why? You don't have enough of your own?” Jack snatched the flicked end of the cloth and used it to tug himself into Bunny's space. “Thought you could make six of them, last I counted.”

“Could always use a new pair.” Not letting Jack win ground Bunny allowed him to crowd in close, assured that it wouldn't take long before that flirty bravado gave out and Jack realized just how little space he had left himself. 

“What could you possibly do with my hands you can't do with your own?” Jack laughed, twirling and using the towel to tug Bunny into the kitchen like a dog on a lead, completely missing Bunnymund's amused twitch at the sheer lack of self awareness in that statement.

[daily-spanish-word]

heating la calefacción

It’s a cognate. This is the English word: calefaction n. [ˌkælə’fækʃən] The property of being warming; Synonyms: incalescence. .. but it’s probably easier to think about all the heat in California.

Is there central heating in this building? ¿Hay calefacción central en este edificio?

Picture by Geoffrey Gallaway on Flickr

[veevshmeev]

[alatariel-galadriel]

⭐️

Alright alright alright SO one of my favorite lines in Calefaction isn’t exactly the prettiest when it comes to prose, but I love it nevertheless:  “He wants to file this all away and never think about it again, and he doesn’t ever, ever want to let go.”

That line was my breakthrough for the story. See, Calefaction got stuck in Writer’s Block Hell for ages because the difficult thing about writing an Itafushi story hinging on a conversation about feelings is getting Megumi to talk. He flat-out won’t. He’s allergic to it. He’d rather die.

So in order to have talk about feelings be a legitimate story beat, I had to figure out why he wouldn’t just ice out and avoid the conversation completely. I was honest-to-god drawing flowcharts to try and figure this one out, and then I wrote that line—he doesn’t want to let go—and it all sort of clicked.

Because that’s what kickstarted the tragedy of the two of them, isn’t it? Megumi can’t let Yuuji go, even within minutes of meeting him. He’s the one who advocates for Gojo to spare Yuuji’s life, even though it goes against his morals, because he can’t walk away from this dumbass he just met. Yuuji’s the one he makes exceptions for, over and over again, so while talking about his feelings is unbearable, the alternative just isn’t an option for him.

From there, it was pretty easy to weave that thread throughout the rest of the story, and everything fell into place. The this-is-unbearable-but-the-alternative-is-worse motivation had the potential to be angsty but honestly just made his internal monologue an so much fun. His inner voice is so dry and logical that mixing in Dramatic Teenage Angst™  is hilarious to me specifically. For that exact reason, my second favorite section is “His face burns like he’s a middle-schooler with a stupid crush and honestly. Just shoot him now. Put him down like a sick dog. End his misery,” especially since this kid graduated middle school less than a year ago. It's wonderful.

Overall, this story was so much fun to write and I had a lot of fun answering this. Thanks for the ask!!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

One More List of "Beautiful" Words

to include in your next poem/story

Beneficence - the quality or state or doing or producing good.

Calefaction - the state of being warmed.

Callosity - lack of feeling or capacity for emotion.

Cicatrizant - promoting the healing of a wound or the formation of a cicatrix.

Estivo-autumnal - relating to or occurring in the summer and autumn.

Evagation - a wandering of the mind.

Hamartia - a defect of character : error, guilt, or sin especially of the tragic hero in a literary work.

Imparadise - to make supremely happy, transport with delight or joy.

Impedimenta - things that impede or hinder progress or movement.

Inhesion - the condition of being inherent in something.

Jocoserious - mingling mirth and seriousness.

Lowery - gloomy, lowering.

Malobservation - erroneous observation or interpretation

Mordacious - biting or sharp in manner or style.

Natation - the action or art of swimming.

Pandiculation - a stretching and stiffening especially of the trunk and extremities (as when fatigued and drowsy or after waking from sleep).

Pestiferous - dangerous to society; pernicious.

Satisdiction - the condition of having said enough.

Ugsome - frightful, loathsome.

Unclubbable - having or showing a disinclination for social activity: unsociable.

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Lists of Beautiful Words ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[heartmaddie]

MICHAEL KAISER doesn’t remember the first time he told you that he loved you as clearly as he should. The night was uncharacteristically tepid, heat sweltering through thin, linen sheets which danced gracefully through the light breeze of a summer night. Azure eyes exhausted, but not even the heaviest of eyelids could have forced them to close, his gaze was preoccupied devouring you.

The phosphorescence of the moon adorned your skin as breath escaped lungs, your sonnet, dedicated to him. Gentle eyes explored your body, sweat dripping from clean skin onto cotton. If he were an artist, you, in late hours of his sleepless nights, would be his only muse. 

Somnolent fingers traced the ripples which ran through his porcelain fingers, you pulled him impossibly close as calefaction consumed him. It was uncomfortably hot but, he couldn’t fathom letting you go. Maybe it was because, only in your arms, he understood what it meant to be loved.

Michael was anything but religious. Although, that could be argued through how his thumbs ran through your eyelashes so reverently, or how you were his tangible evidence of a gift from God. Everything was seemingly more vivid within your realms, a sound in the near distance, a call from spring. 

Roseate lips pressed against your soft nape, his head aching from the vertigo of overwhelming devotion. He was almost choked from the immensity of his affection, wholeheartedly only for you. It was why he couldn’t help but bury himself under the ease of your chest, his exhalation fluttering against the hairs of your neck as his eyes shut. 

“I love you.” Tender, but awkward were the words uttered from his lips, cerulean clenching shut in only the most vulnerable. Heart poured from his chest and pooled between your fingers, where he was safe. An organ so full, it could barely be called his. He whispered it once again as exhaustion carried him.

He only hoped that you could hear him, through your dreams.

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

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@x-vivi-v , @t3chn0chan , @lizbix , @yur1ash , @itoshisaesss

@elfiaa , @jals-stuff , @marcia-11111 , @reocidal , @goobiescooby

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@x3nafix , @haitanibros0007 , @vayahatesu , @sahrii

form to be added to taglists

[lucysarah1875]

An Old-Fashioned Girl

I got a request for a time travel! reader a long time ago. I would like to clarify that Levi and the reader DO NOT have a romantic relationship here

How she arrived there was a mystery, even for herself. One morning she was on a school trip recording a tik tok dance with a classmate and the other she was in the middle of nowhere. ‘A forest?’ she thought ‘in the middle of Rose?’ Important to highlight that she didn’t refer to it as Wall Rose because… walls were a thing from history books, too many decades ago.

Sneakers sinked on the frost as it crunched under her weight. Her eyes searched for a sign of a crosspath, somewhere with stepped on grass that would guide her, a rubbish bin that would have some map on it. Her mind began to wonder if she had fallen asleep on the way there and her friends had played her a really bad joke.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” She shouted.

But nobody replied.

“Come on guys! This is not going to get you that many visits on youtube”

Grave silence. The fear started to creep in as her feet took one step after the other and she reached nowhere. Turning over her heels, hectic eyes searching to spot a difference in the repetitive background of leafless trees. Her lips parted, the air that came through her nose wasn’t enough anymore. Checking her phone again, something was definitely off. No signal, no internet, not even a single Wifi close by.

She had repeatedly called 911 hoping that the emergency line would work anyways, somehow. Nothing. She ran, ran for her life and, as if her senses sharpened on the necessity of fighting for her life, she  began to spot how off the situation felt. ‘There’s not a single piece of rubbish on the ground’

At some point, she grew tired and soon hoped to have chosen the P.E uniform over the regular one because raising her skirt up against some dressing codes and only wearing mid leg’s socks wasn’t helping to fight the cold. Her own arms wrapped around her frame, trying to provide any warmth and a sense of security. Soon she realised how the school uniform was made for staying inside the building, with calefaction.

Because the white button up shirt with small red and green lines, the thin burgundy sweater that was slightly too big for her frame compared to the small tartan english green and maroon skirt that she raised up after leaving her house (so her mom wouldn’t complain that it didn’t reach her knees) wasn’t keeping her warm. She had had a burst of confidence that morning, her crush told her she looked cute and her friend and her recorded a Tiktok. She remembered all that… How did she get there?

“HELP!!” screaming from the top of her lungs, anyone, someone. Not trying to lose hope, she insisted on it even if her throat began to hurt. Refusing to take her water bottle out of her backpack, fearing that she may need to ration it. Suddenly, her mind tried to come up with all those ideas that people in movies didn’t have in a case of extreme conditions.

A sound pierced through the silence. It felt overwhelmingly loud and high, as if a plane’s gears were ringing right on top of her. It was like nothing she heard before, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes in slight pain. It was sudden and terrifying.

“Oi, what’s going on here?” The man landed on the floor as if it was nothing. He walked slowly towards her, putting away some sort of control under a jacket as he moved closer.

“Captain!” A younger voice called from the top of a tree. She raised to look up, an ash blond guy that landed on a tree as … ‘as if he is spiderman or something, what the hell’ “Do we keep going with morning practise?”

More people appeared, all of them with a sort of uniform that she described as ‘Those seem awfully uncomfortable… what’s wrong with these people, all dressed up as some sort of freak avengers.’

The short man just nodded to the others that were spectant of his orders before turning around to face the girl. “Civilians are not allowed on the training fields.” His voice was deep and demanding as he got closer. His steps forwards were confident, completely opposite to hers that slowly dragged her frame backwards.

“Sir, please. May you call my mom? My phone is not working and I don’t have any signal” Leaving aside any fear of how absurd the situation felt, she insisted on reaching for help.

The man stopped and frowned in confusion “You’re lost.” he affirmed but there were tints of unsureness on the declaration, as he tried to understand her.

“Yes! I was with my class on a trip to the national park here in Rose and I don’t really understand what happened. I tried calling the police-”

“The police?” He interrupted her “Here? In wall Rose?”

The brief silence as they both tried to understand each other.

“Yes! But I couldn’t find anyone from the national park until now-”

“National park” He was repeating her words as some broken record and she was starting to lose her patience.

“Sir, please. I just want to call my mom and tell her I’m alright. Could you lend me your phone?” Her voice levels kept rising as it also broke in desperation.

The repeat mentions of words that the man had never heard before started to make him doubt her sanity. His cold eyes that had been doing strict eye contact travelled down to her clothes and frowned deeply.

His lack of action made her break in tears, why was he taking so long? Was he going to help her or worse… hurt her? Panic finally unleashed as she started to hyperventilate and cry. That somehow made him snap.

“Calm down, kid” He reached forward and she quickly walked backwards “I’ll take you back to the building until whatever you’re high on washes off,”

She created more resistance than he expected, usually people recognised him or the scouts uniform. Either to respect the law or to search for help. She was not following any. She swore that there were no words to express how grateful she was for her phone, ipad and the rest of the electronics on her backpack. Because, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to explain without being considered mental unstable that she wasn’t from there.

Well, technically, she was from there. She had lived in Paradise all her life but not from 850 Paradise, definitely not. Or the walls as they called it, apparently Paradise was a term for the island that they hadn’t found out about just yet. The first week, they were all quite sceptical. Hange was extremely curious and made her feel not so alone. The squad leader insisted on spending as much time as possible with her, trying to understand the situation deeply.

Erwin asked plenty of questions, calm, relaxed. As he had all the time in the world to allow her to feel safe, she felt like a rat in a lab. Everybody had their eyes fixed on her and what she did. He seemed convinced of her innocence. The Commander didn’t set many rules, only two; first, that she didn’t leave the building for her own safety. Second, that she changed clothes because they could be a bit “distracting” apparently.

The comment felt offensive and she wished to talk back. Insist on her freedom to wear what she pleased without consequences, that it was her body and her choice. The rebellion of refusing to change lasted shortly as soon as she realised how easily the other teens blushed deeply looking at her bare legs. Adding to that, checking what the other female cadets wore once out of the uniform made her feel quite self conscious.

After a couple of weeks, even though she had shut down all the devices, the phone didn’t turn on anymore. The afternoons were long and boring. Most of them began to talk to her more freely. She played cards with the teens when they were done with their duties. Talked to Hange as they worked. Even asked Erwin for a spare notebook and pencil, if he had any, to write down a sort of diary. He agreed, even insisted that it may be a good idea. Only Levi refused to acknowledge her. Despite being the first one she encountered, he was the last to believe her.

The differences between her time and that one began to become more noticeable each passing day. Clothes were itchy and hard, soon she concluded that elastic was the best thing humans invented after the internet. “Mattress” was a bold word for those empty long pillows they slept in. Everything was humid, tasteless and dark. ‘Correction, deodorant may be the best invention after taking regular showers,’ She didn’t blame them, water seemed like a scarce resource and Captain Levi, who barely talked to her, seemed to have a passion to scold her.

Even if he was the only one who somehow maintained a level of modern society standard of hygiene, he found her actions abusive.

“You’re going to use all the water of the walls”

“You changed clothes yesterday, you think wood grows on the trees?”

On and on. It appeared that the mighty hero she read in her history books was a short annoying man.

Food tasted horrendous, and water didn’t seem that drinkable. The cadets invited her to train, just to spare some time. After all she was far from military training and Levi refused to give her any real weapon, including the 3dmg. How they were able to resist those harsh conditions with just some boiled potato in their stomach was a mystery to her.

‘I’m never going to romanticise old dresses and cottagecore again,’ They killed a chicken for dinner and she almost fainted when she saw it. Despite being tired of eating only boiled veggies, remembering the animal alive as she watched the chicken’s breast on her dish made her appetite disappear.

One day in particular, the cadets were taken to the industrial city with Hange. Erwin had left to deal with some particular details at the Capital and YN had finally found herself alone. Alone to face dinner time.

Grown tired of those itchy long skirts and uncomfortable not elastic white trousers; she decided that since no one was around, no one was there to judge her modern clothes. Back on the uniform, arm crossed as she squinted in determination.

“I do not fear you,” She murmured as if the inanimate object could understand her “I’m a woman of a free country, with high end education, the power of equal rights and the blessing of having lived until now in the same period of time of Rihanna and Taylor Swift. I’m stoppable”

Suddenly a strong breeze came in from the window and blew off the only shakable candle she had turned on. The place went pitch black.

“No, no, no!” She insisted as she tried to turn it back on. It was a regular problem in her life now, candles blow off stupidly easily. The habit of always searching for the light switches as she entered a room wasn’t abandoning her yet and it always left a feeling of disappointment.

The light came back again and she scoffed pridefully, as if she had discovered fire. The fire trembled under her breath and her eyes opened in fear it may turn off again.

“Omg, candles have the stability of my mental health,” She murmured and then chuckled to herself “That would have been such a tweet,”

Quickly she grew conscious of her monologue and became slightly ashamed. Back to business, she turned around to face her fears… the wood cookstove. Or so she guessed, there was wood around so it must have required that, right?

“I got a A in calculus 3, I can turn on a stove,”

She opened what seemed to be a place with ashes and threw a bunch of hard-wood logs all together, turned on a match and threw it inside. It turned on and she jumped of happiness. Moving quickly to chop some potatoes and carrots to cook a soap, she began to sing “A single mom who works two jobs. Who loves her kids and never stops. With gentle hands and a heart of a fighter!”

Moving back to the stove to check on it as she danced around. “I’m a surviv– …or?” Her mood dropped significantly as she realised the fire was off. Frowning in confusion, she tried again.. And again… and … again.

“Maybe I’m not truly hungry, I’m just anxious. “ She cried out loud between heavy and loud whinings. Messy tears ran down her cheeks as she was sitting down on the kitchen floor eating the raw carrots she had previously chopped. “Where is my ASMR playlist when I need it?”

“What the fuck are you doing down there?”

Levi’s deep quiet voice echoed in the stone room, making her snap her head up to her left. He wasn’t wearing the uniform, at least not completely. White trousers, the tall combat boots but combined with a black turtleneck sweater. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes and he didn’t seem happy to see her.

“How long have you been here?” She questioned as she raised.

“All day,”

“I thought you left with the rest,” her voice was soft as she noticed his lack of interest in keeping a conversation going.

“No,”

“What have you been doing?”

“Work,”

YN stood there, wet face, crystal eyes as he moved around the kitchen. The jug he brought with him was back to being full with water. When he turned around, his eyes moved naturally to her clothes and then back to her face. She still had a half eaten raw carrot on her hand as her puppy eyes begged him for some compassion.

“What do you what?” Levi shot the question as he had no time to spare.

“I’m hungry,”

“I’m not your mother, nor your babysitter. Cook yourself something,” His ice-cold reply made her realise why she had been crying on the floor and the tears appeared again.

“I can’t, the stove doesn’t work,” She whined.

Somehow that made him concerned, taking long steps to the stove, grabbed a special type of gripper that was hanging on the side, raised some steel circled from the top and checked.

“Tch, of course it’s not going to work if you put the damn wood on the ashtray,” The captain complained as if it was obvious. Pushing his sleeves up to expose his forearms and not get the clothes dirty, he grabbed the logs and took them off. “If you think I’m idiot enough to believe that you don’t know how to turn a damn stove on, you’re mistaken.”

She remained silent, her quietness made him snap back to see her.

“You don’t know how to turn a damn stove on? What are you? Some wealthy brat or something?” 

She didn’t reply right away, it was becoming exhausting how after all this time he didn’t believe her narrative. “Where I come from, stoves are different,” her low voice made the words come out stuck together.  But he understood.

“Yeah… where you come from.” He insisted on pure disdain.

It was borderline offensive in her humble opinion. The man she had read a lot in her history lessons, how dedicated he was to the cause, how altruist he was to help the little kids after the uprising. Nothing of that correlated to the man that was there. ‘Maybe this is why they tell you meeting your heroes it’s not a good idea,’

Under his scrutiny, he realised that despite his cadets and her being probably the same age, she appeared younger. ‘War turns children into adults quicker,’ he concluded, considering that whatever she said was real. True or not, Levi quick realise that whatever she was, she was a fucking brat. One that was crying in the kitchen because of hunger. He felt stupid for a second for giving a cold shoulder to a kid.

“I’m making myself a stew, if you want some say it now” He said and her face brightened up instantly.

“Yes, please!” 

Her eyes followed his actions attentively, old stoves definitely had more than a single trick on them (compared to modern ones, obviously). Levi opened the air conduction, so it would escape, checked something called “stove control” and left it open, then the top damper needed to be opened too. He grabbed some twigs and deadfall, only added one hardwood log and turned all that on with a piece of paper from the ash door and then closed it. 

The difference was rapidly noticeable, it lid and roared quickly. Once it began to look warmer, he added larger bits of kindling from the top and regulated the temperature with what appeared to be some side grating. She chopped more vegetables and the room was filled up with the cracking of the fire. Levi didn’t talk, just haste his pace around the room as he multitasked the preparation.

Milk was in some steel container, the pot was placed on top of the stove despite the fire not being in direct contact, the spices were hung from the roof to dry them up. ‘Life is easier when you just have to order a big mac on ubereats,’

“You’re quite the chef, Captain,” Her enthusiastic voice echoed in the empty room as she watched the meal boil with dreamy eyes. Quick side eyes from his part as he mixed the stew around with a wooden spoon.

“This is so aesthetic, we could have posted on instagram” She kept admiring how rustic the wood cookstove looked with the chopped wood to a side, the wooden spoon and the stone wall “Being happy is simple, what is hard is enjoying simple things. That would have been a great caption,”

They looked eyes, she smiled at him, he kept frowning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Levi’s monotone voice, despite its natural uninteresting tone on it, sounded slightly confused as he was doing an effort to understand anything she said.

“It’s a place where you put pictures so others may see how your life is,”

“What’s a picture?”

“It’s like a drawing but extremely realistic and done instantly,”

Levi’s thin eyebrows were still drawn together as it seemed almost like whichcraft what she was describing “Why would anyone care what your meals look like,”

“It’s fun! So everybody knows what you’re doing all the time,”

“That sounds like a fucking nightmare”

“You say that because you’ve not seen those in deep cleaning videos and vacuums’ reviews”

“What the fuck is a vacuum?”

“Oh dear…”

PD: did I have to search how a wood cookstove worked to do this story? Yes. Did I watch a youtube video of 45 minutes? Obviously. Do I deserve a kudos for that? absolutely haha

[sleepyangelkami]

JASON TODD'S MASTERLIST

ONESHOTS

without hesitation play pretend calefaction divulgence indignation

DRABBLES

fade into you

[sparklevents6000]

Dawg at this point there is nothing you can jokingly mock KC for worldbuilding wise that can outdo even ''normal'' Sparklecare worldbuilding. I was poking around the archive's Explore pages and this is really real: ''I can't avoid this any longer. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry in advance. Oh god. Aside from engaging in calefaction, the antherries survived the harshly cold temperatures of their environment by extracting calefacient from their bodies (ugh, you know what that means) which they would coat themselves in to stay warm (ugh ugh ugh), storing it in jars for later use, thus helping each other and forming trust between the pack. Those who helped the most were therefore… Ugh. Therefore considered to be the leaders, since they were essential to keeping the pack alive. This is so weird, I'm so sorry. Cave paintings depicting antherries with red markings over their hands likely represented rope burns. These depictions tended to show them in important roles, which is what suggests their level of respect and importance. A starking contrast to what rope burns mean to us in modern times. I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd want somebody with rope burned hands to be my leader. Quite the opposite.'' That was from Thurstonline's Antherry page. What the fuck.

.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Well this was a rare treat.

Jack had expected to return to find Bunny right where he'd left him, burrowing his way through a mound of busywork while he waited for the little magic egg tulips to bloom. Instead when he followed the eager pull of his Wind he found his favorite grumpy rabbit all curled up around one of his overly large drawing books and squinting through his cute little glasses at the ruins in front of him.

Jack wondered if Bunny even realized they were still on his face, he only wore them when he was reading or working on the really tiny details of his machines, and scrunching up his eyes out at the crumbling stone wall was going to give him a killer headache.

It was, naturally, in Bunny's best interest for Jack to sweep in and pluck them off of his wide flat nose.

Exchanging them for his lips however was a purely selfish act and one which would bring about a different kind of headache altogether.

"Jack." Bunny said in way of greeting, not shifting a smidge under the sudden weight on his back as Jack settled fully onto his shoulders.

From this close and upside down Jack couldn't see the expression Bunny was making, it was still a bit of a marvel to him that he didn't feel any wiggle of anxiety from that, or the carefully neutral voice. It was at times a chore but he had done his best to stop reading into every minute twitch of Bunny's body language. Besides, beneath the dark slashes of his brows were a pair of beautifully expressive eyes the color of fresh growth on a pine, when the needles were still all feathery and soft and charmingly green, and he was more than happy to look at them.

"Why are you wearing your glasses to paint?" he asked, feeling the quick little twitches of Bunny's nose against his brow.

"Some baking eggs broke down, took a moment to fix them was all." Without looking away from Jack at all he reached his hand to the side and picked something from his bag.

Beside him was a satchel of his supplies, Jack had learned to recognize it during their many trips across the world as Bunny would let him out to blow off all his energy while he painted, and Jack knew from experience that Bunny could pluck exactly what he needed from it without ever looking away from his work. Jack had made a game of trying to hand him the wrong thing once, but it was like he had a kind of sense for his tools. As soon as the item had touched his hand he'd declare "no, not that" and pluck the correct item from wherever in the bag Jack had secreted it. Jack was sure there was some magic to it all.  

"Where's Twiner?"

"Slithered off to play," Jack said of their cute little serpent of a child. Though child was a very generous description for a snake spirit of a trillion year old seed. They had called him any number of silly nicknames as they debated on what his name would actually be, but it had been Bunny's somewhat affectionate complaint about his habit of twinning himself around their arms that had stuck, figuring he could complain to them about it if he grew enough sentience to have an opinion.

So far he had the personality of any other tree sapling, interested only in food, comfort, and whatever curiosities he could fit inside his mouth, but that wasn't unusual for human infants either. Given the growth rate and lifespan of a weeping willow tree Twiner should be aging at a rate similar to humans, and at twelve years old it could be argued he’d never gain human characteristics; but those were all cuttings of cuttings from his failed world tree experimentations, and this was a fully rooted and growing seedling of the parent tree, Aster didn't feel qualified to assume anything based on that.

He could have a spaience completely alien to anything they had encountered before.

"You plan on letting me go anytime soon?" Bunny asked, easily moving his hand across the paper without once looking away from Jack's eyes. Jack was certain he was completely blocking the view, but who knew what kind of tricks the old rabbit could do.

"Not really," he smiled and pressed another kiss against the short fur of Bunny's nose. "Why, am I bothering~ you?"

"I'd like to finish this sketch before something else falls apart on me. Easter is righ-"

"Around the corner, yes you've been saying for days."

"And one day closer every time I say it."

[sparklearchive]

Anthry Lore and Basics

Basics

Anthries are the main inhabitants of Spinch. They are anthropomorphic animals that walk on two legs and talk. They can be a variety of colors and any animal species, except for humans and insects.

Anthries are very similar to humans in the way they act, think, and function. Their culture is much like that of Earth's as well, with the same technological advancements.

They are omnivorous, but usually do not eat meat. Their average life span is around 120 years old. They hatch from Emem's eggs, and these are called hatchdays as opposed to birthdays.

Anthries are usually peaceful and do not engage in war or anything like that. Not to say there aren't some very rotten people out there, though...

Names

Every anthry has either a pun name or a palindrome name. Pun names are in the language Countish (whatever language the comic is read in... Earth languages). These puns are known as allotpuns or alloted puns.

Palindrome names are known as allindromes. They are in the language Opendish, which is a language where each letter of a word in a sentence is written backwards, but each word is still in the original order of the original sentence (ex. "I love you" becomes "I evol uoy.")

People aren't really totally conscious of their allotpuns when naming their kids. It's really only ever acknowledged for some comedic purpose.

Heat Retainment

Heat retainment is anthry sex. The term "heat retainment" refers to the actual generation of heat between two anthries, but the scientific name for the act itself is calefaction (which means the state of becoming warm).

During the age of antherries its purpose was to generate body heat so they could stay alive, but as that ice age ended, their need to do that also faded and the ability became vestigial.

Evolution didn't phase it out simply because anthries just liked doing it. Because of their history with cold weather, anthries also have a natural body response of feeling aroused in response to colder temperatures.

[veevshmeev]

[antequeraclassic]

MARCA: MERCEDES BENZ  MODELO: 280 SL ROADSTER R107  CARACTERÍSTICAS: 2.746 CC., 185 CV, 6 CILINDROS, CAMBIO AUTOMÁTICO, INYECCIÓN ELECTRÓNICA BOSCH, SERIE W107 107.042, MOTOR 110.986, AIRE ACONDICIONADO - CLIMATIZADOR, DIRECCIÓN ASISTIDA, FRENOS ABS, CIERRE CENTRALIZADO, TAPICERÍA DE CUERO AZUL, 4 PLAZAS, ASIENTOS CALEFACTABLES, ACABADO INTERIOR EN MADERA, RADIO-CASSETTE BECKER MEXICO, PINTURA PLATA ASTRAL 735 G, CAPOTA DE LONA, CAPOTA RÍGIDA - HARDTOP, INCLUYE CARRITO PORTA HARD-TOP, 5 LLANTAS ORIGINALES 15", LUNA DELANTERA FRANJA TINTADA PARASOL, MUY BUEN ESTADO Y FUNCIONAMIENTO, DOCUMENTACIÓN e ITV AL DÍA. AÑO: 1980  PRECIO: 33.000.- € MÁS INFORMACIÓN EN: https://antequeraclassic.com/catalogo/mercedes-benz-280sl-r107-1980  

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A List of "Beautiful" Words related to Summer

to include in your next poem/story

Aestival - of or relating to the summer

Arboreal - of, relating to, or resembling a tree

Calefaction - the state of being warmed

Canicular - of or relating to the dog days (i.e., the period between early July and early September when the hot sultry weather of summer usually occurs in the northern hemisphere; a period of stagnation or inactivity)

Chanterelle - a fragrant edible mushroom (Cantharellus cibarius) usually having a yellow to orange color

Convivial - relating to, occupied with, or fond of feasting, drinking, and good company

Crepuscular - of, relating to, or resembling twilight; dim

Devilry - playful, reckless behavior that is not intended to cause serious harm; mischief

Forenoon - the early part of the day ending with noon; morning

Igneous - of, relating to, or resembling fire; fiery

Noctilucent - visible or glowing at night; bioluminescent

Ocherous - of the hue of impure iron ore with an earthy usually red or yellow pigment

Pergola - arbor, trellis; a structure usually consisting of parallel colonnades supporting an open roof of girders and cross rafters

Redolence - an often pungent or agreeable odor

Respite - an interval of rest or relief

Salubrious - favorable to or promoting health or well-being

Solstice - the time of the sun's passing a solstice which occurs about June 21 to begin summer in the northern hemisphere and about December 21 to begin winter in the northern hemisphere

Souse - to make drunk

Vespertine - active, flowering, or flourishing in the evening

Viridescent - slightly green; greenish

If any of these words make it into your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

Word List: Spring ⚜ More: Word Lists

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

Hey! From the fanfic asks, 4, 6 for Catalyzing with a Breath of Calefaction? And/or 1 and 11 for In Between is Gravity and Bridges Left to Burn? ♥️

Oooh, excellent choices! (Also, man, these titles should be shorter but I'm not gonna shorten them lol)

Catalyzing with a Breath of Calefaction

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

It's hard to pick a single line of dialogue because Catalyzing is written in back and forths. Each line isn't meant to stand on its own, but to rely on the following response to build a sort of network of interaction. It highlights the way Felix and Julian's relationship will develop with time: as an intertwined reliance on each other's strengths.

As such, my favorite dialogue set is probably:

“You can just call me Felix, Detective.”

Mendez gives a little nod, “As you wish. It only feels fair that you call me ‘Julian’ then, Felix.”

Felix shivers a little at the sound of his name in the detective’s accent. He smiles, “That’s hardly a chore.” A sly edge pulls at his lips. "Or maybe 'Jules'? Isn't that what Officer Poname calls you?"

Julian winces, but there's an edge of fondness to the gesture. "If you must."

"Maybe just for special occasions then," Felix concedes.

I particularly like this set because it's a casual establishment of how they interact with each other going forward. There's a lovely sense of give and take, of meeting each other on equal grounds, but also of pushing each other just a little out of their comfort zones while knowing when to stop. It reveals that they will challenge each other while still recognizing their boundaries.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

This will get a little controversial, but I think what's particularly different of this fic vs my other Wayhaven works is that it establishes why traits that often get Felix/Farah/F relegated to the best friend or little sibling role make for good traits in a romantic partner. My Raine fics do fall prey to that a bit, with Raine seeing Felix as a younger sibling figure due to the loss of his own younger brother, but I like juxtaposing that up against Julian's fics, where Felix is shown not as an immature and lackadaisical character incapable of being in a reliable relationship, but as the type of partner who reminds you to slow down and relax from time to time. The type of partner who reminds you to open up and be yourself and share in your troubles.

In Between is Gravity and Bridges Left to Burn

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Honestly? I think both Wayhaven and common characterization of Nate/Nat/N is...too polished. And I get why, I do. It's a romance novel and they have an archetype to follow and the Prince Charming archetype is meant to be flawless and without fault. But I find that to be a touch uninteresting.

Besides, I see a lot of symptoms of paranoia and obsessive tendencies in Nate in the original books that I don't think is touched on a lot. I wanted to bring those aspects to the forefront and play with Nate's need for control and meticulous detail. I experience a lot of those same tendencies in my day to day life and it was nice to reflect on those in fiction while also offering Nate a respectful partner/support system to keep him grounded.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

What I like about this fic is honestly what's already present in the books and why I love A/N as a pairing: the deep trust and understanding built from centuries of working together and relying on each other. I loved bringing to the forefront their ability to read between the lines of what they're saying and get to what they're feeling. I love a relationship with deep and sturdy foundation.

More Fic Questions Here

[d-eadeye]

He knew nothing beyond their family name the simplest combination of dual syllables to produce a memorable echo: Ora, like the light or so it reminded him; French in origin, venerable of history as it had been flimsily explained by their liaison. Real blue-bloods, evidently, though he'd never mingled much with 'em. Dirty cowpokes belonged far from the perfumed purlieus of sovereignty, @petitsdieu, 𐚁.

The warmth of the French Countryside differed greatly from the sweltering heat of the American South. The sun itself seemed kinder, more amenable to those that languished within its golden suffusion, whereas the Arizona sun was cruel, incessant, unyielding to those few who were unfortunate or stupid enough to exist within its calefaction. The change was pleasant, if even slightly. Alas, he bore an unusual fondness for the merciless nature of his home climate. The dry air was both cursed-after and missed.

He whistled. The note was shrill, made just above her golden head as reposed against its many frilled cushions. "You lay like this back where I'm from and, whew there'd be nothin' but ashes left." Emerging from her rearmost side, Jesse's boots unabashedly thundered against the limestone pavers where they eventually ceased at the foot of her outdoor chaise. The soles impressed upon the trim grasses while his brawn took up the mantle of the afternoon sun; like a poor man's aureole, it glittered behind his head.

"Afternoon, sweetpea. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me."