#autoclave

"In my general experience, trying to marry your practice to your environment is a doomed effort. Go spend a week at the beach and try writing about the ocean, and watch your writing come up short of its theme. Tour diaries fail to capture the energy and chaos of touring; food writing is best done by people who haven't eaten yet. But I was in a subbasement two floors beneath ground level in a Stockholm hotel when I wrote this, and I hadn't seen daylight in at least twelve hours, so maybe there's something to the Environmental Theory of Poetics, which I just made up."

I saw this at a garage sale and didn't know what it was (my first thought was something to do with canning, maybe), polled my friends and turns out it's an autoclave.

My submission for the RemadoraFest is autoclave.! Set after the war, Remus confronts the mistakes he's made in his relationship and finally asks Tonks on their first date. This is technically a sequel to This Foul Unchanging Thing, which means nothing for it except The Vibes (iykyk) and that Remus and Tonks grow into this Remus and Tonks.

Snippet:

"We could always pretend we've done this properly?" Tonks laughs and gestures for him to carry on. "I — er— I probably picked you up from the flat because Sirius would ask invasive questions if I didn't, and I'm scared Mad-Eye would ask me what my intentions are. I've picked here because of its excellent pasta options —"

"Oh yeah? How did you ask me?"

"Awkwardly, you probably took pity on me." He decides. "I'll spend the whole time wondering if you'll let me hold your hand on the way home."

"So chaste," Tonks smirks. "And a complete lie."

Hand to his chest, he fakes scandalised outrage. "I don't put out on the first date."

"Shame," Tonks laughs into their wine glass. "I do."