#or we make him into another plant that produce milk of course

[pleafyistired]

since we're almost done with vivisecting him anyways. bones, muscles and skin of john. blood? hearts? might talk abt john tits in this one again hm. no one has answer my question of does this man shit (no i dont mean sweat and co2 i mean THE NORMAL HUMAN WASTE OF PISS AND SHIT DOES HE DO THAT TOO OR DOES HE CONSUME IT ALL SINCE PLANT.) does this man has chest hair if no titties. if hes breedable. does he have plussy (plant pussy)

Bonus: theres also a mushroom skin for the flower job btw. sooo…. magical john's spores anyone?

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Forging Ties - Chapter 33 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"I guess I'll be coming into town more as well so that I can buy powdered milk for Aris." Nim said.

"Probably not a bad thing all round. Sometimes I let some of the fruit go to waste because I don't need anything I might trade it for but there are more mouths than ever that need feeding right now."

"And more coming," Yore added.

"There are a lot of politics still going on from the human side of things, but we're starting to get mages out. They'll need to eat."

"I'll look into what else we can grow. Vegetables, smaller fruiting plants. Even they'll take months to mature, of course but I'm sure you'll need food then at least as much as you do now."

"We could use your help getting some things planted here as well," Yore said.

"We're building up the area to make space for the mages in the old houses leading down to The Spire. Ultimately, they should be able to support themselves as much as possible. We forget because we know so many Soldiers and Companions but a lot of mages are used for menial labour such as field work. They won't need someone looking over their shoulders every day but I also don't think it's fair to expect them to figure out aspects of growing your own food that would never have been their responsibility."

"Guess I could do that," Nim said. "In exchange for fair compensation, of course. I have a baby to feed now."

"And a Skye," Skye added. "I eat way more than a baby."

"You do, though at least you eat things I can produce myself," Nim said.

"Wouldn't mind trading for some meat, though. Maybe some flour."

"You'll be paid for your work," Yore confirmed.

"I also work now," Skye said.

"I'm a courier. Does anyone have anything they want to be delivered anywhere?"

"Now?" Yore asked.

"Yes, right now."

"Can you deliver a note to my boyfriend down on the beach?" Yore asked.

"Fanner. He's the one with the long, golden hair."

"Yes, that's easy."

"Yeah," Harrison agreed. "Easy."

Yore pulled his notepad out of his pocket again and jotted something down on a page.

He tore it out, folded it in half and wrote something else on the outside before passing the note up to Skye.

"Can I borrow that?" Hamish asked, holding his hand out to Yore.

"I'll write Duran one, too."

"Sure."

Yore passed him the notepad and his pen.

"How did things work out between the two of you, anyway? When you left, you still seemed to be at a point where you were butting heads with one another a little bit when it came to what you wanted. Who won that one?"

"Listen..." Hamish said as he wrote something on a sheet of notepad paper.

"We both won."

"So him, then."

"He's a very handsome man, Yore," Hamish said.

"And a smarter and more level headed one than I gave him credit for. I thought he was drawn to me in a self destructive way but he's shown me that he's a man who knows what he wants. And most importantly, that he's not looking for a substitute master in me. He seems quite comfortable with having shed his shackles."

"That's good," Yore said.

"Fanner's always been very anxious, of course but I think he finds great comfort in the fact that I'm nothing like a master to him. He loves feeling safe. It's something he's never had before."

"Yeah. Duran's made me realise that two people can process that same situation very differently. And also, honestly, that none of them were really in the exact same situation. They all had their own things going on, their own paths through the experience."

Hamish folded his note in half, wrote something on the front and Skye leant down over Harrisons shoulder to take it from him.

"There you are, Skye. That one's for Duran."

Skye nodded.

"I will deliver them and then," he made eye contact with Nim...

"We will be right back."

Nim nodded.

He still looked tense but he would be fine.

Skye would be gone for just a little while and then he would come back and his heart would fill with joy all over again at seeing Nim once more.

He couldn't wait.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Nine / Café con Miel

W/C: 3k

Warnings: [in a dream: blood, violence, lots of scary nightmare stuff, guns, threats of violence], language, sexual innuendos and jokes, tears, angst, voices being raised

A/N: hi I wanted soft but also wanted angsty so here’s a good half and half mixture!! I have this plot point I SO want to get to but I want to show you more of their relationship so that’s what the next few chapters may be more of

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cafe con Miel (Spanish Coffee With Honey) is made of espresso, honey, and whole milk then finished off with a heavy sprinkle of ground cinnamon.

“No, no,” Javi groans in his sleep. “Please.”

It’s dark. So dark, he can’t see anything, but what he can see is cast in red light. It’s almost like a medieval dungeon, wherever he is. He can’t smell but he knows the air is filled with something disgusting.

It’s a coke plant, that’s what it is. There are laborers upon laborers, working in this dark wherever-the-fuck-he-is, producing cocaine that he somehow knows is for Escobar. Dream logic. Escobar is still alive and he’s very much a threat.

Then there’s a weak cry. Dream-Javi spins to find you in the sweatshop. You’ve fallen to your knees, clinging to the table in front of you, and there stands who but the bastard himself, with a gun to your temple.

The red light emphasizes the blood dripping from your face, from where he can’t tell. There’s dirt and dust caked on your beautiful skin, on the cheekbones Javier traces his fingers over nightly now. There’s a wedding band on your finger and it matches his. It makes his eyes turn to your body and note the torn white gown on your figure- a wedding dress. The worst thing is the fear in your eyes, the agony with which you look at him.

Your voice is strained. Broken. Ruined from shouting. One word croaks from your lips. “Please.”

Then Escobar morphs into Tie Guy and then into Murphy for some goddamn reason, just smirking at Javier with the gun to your forehead. When he speaks, he’s the three men at once: “Not so fucking tough, huh?” He asks, cocking the pistol.

He can’t move. He wants to, he’s desperate to, but he can’t speak or move or breathe either: something is stuffed in his mouth and preventing it. “Javi,” you whimper, but it just makes Murphy-Escobar-Tie Guy crack the pistol down against the crown of your head.

The worst comes next: the man becomes Chucho. Javier’s own father, holding a pistol to your head. “Mijo,” the man says, his voice disappointed but soft. “What have you done? Bringing her here?”

Javier wants to shout at him, ask what he’s done because certainly this can’t be his fault, but of course it is. This is what would happen if Javier brought you to Colombia. A fate like this for you and for him.

Then your voice is strong again. “Javi. Javier. Hey, Javi-”

He gasps desperately, air filling his lungs and making him sit bolt upright. His breaths heave, drawing in as much of the cool oxygen as he can possibly take. He sounds like a drowned man arising from the water. His first sign that he’s gone from the sweatshop is the smell of your skin, of your lavender pillow spray in the room. Then it’s the fact that the room is cast with soft blue light, not with red. Then it’s you.

“Javi?” You ask, voice timid and quiet. “You were having a nightmare.”

Thank fucking God. Thank God it was a nightmare and not the terrible fate he’d been spinning in his own head. “Yeah,” he mumbles, lying back in bed.

Your hands, your warm fingertips, trace across his bare chest slowly, splaying your fingers over his racing heart. It grounds him, centers him to the fact that he’s here, you’re here, you’re okay. You kiss his skin softly, with soft lips that leave a trace of balm behind on his sweaty body. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

His breathing slowly comes down. His heart rate does too, as he plays the dream back in his head and deconstructs it all. You rest your head on his chest, fingers softly running up and down his sides, and it anchors him to reality. Your skin is clean and smooth, not broken or bleeding anywhere. Your hair smells fresh and warm and your chest rises and falls against his own. It’s a checklist of your vitals and you’re acing it.

When his heart rate resembles something closer to yours, you kiss his skin again. “You okay?”

He nods, swallowing hard. His face is tight, salty tears drying on his cheeks. “All good, yeah. Thanks for waking me,” he murmurs, his own voice strained.

You’re quiet, allowing him to breathe and recuperate and think it over. Your curiosity gets the best of you. “What happened?” You ask.

He takes a deep breath, in and out and then another, making himself think properly. “You were in one of Escobar’s coke plants, and you were all beat up and in pain. And I couldn’t move, or talk or breathe or anything.”

“Oh, baby,” you murmur and nuzzle your face into his skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not real,” he assures both you and himself, “so it’s fine.”

“Do you have nightmares often?” You ask him, looking over at the clock to discover it’s about 4 A.M. He’s slept with you for four nights now, but he’s yet to wake you with a nightmare.

The sweat slowly dries, leaving his skin cooled and smooth again. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

There’s not much more to say. You’re already tired, eyes drooping from the heavy sleep that encased you before Javier’s whines and moans woke you. He wraps his arm around you and kisses your forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, honestly and gently. “I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll try to avoid it,” you muse sleepily, mind floating into the melatonin haze. “Love you too, Javi.”

There’s a soft smile on your face, and it puts Javier at ease. You’re here, whole, safe and sound. He has you in his arms, and the both of you feel that nothing can go wrong when the two of you lay like this. It’s all over, that dream. It’s not a premonition or a memory; just a random stimulation of the sleeping brain that creates chaos.

Before long, you’re snoring softly on his chest, a circle of your gentle and warm breath passing through your parted lips onto his pec. It’s so relaxed and warm that Javier feels ready to sleep again too. Usually, he takes at least an hour or two to fall asleep after a nightmare, but you’ve soothed him more than any of his usual remedies can. With one last heavy breath, Javier drifts off to sleep again, hoping his rest is as peaceful as yours tonight.

-

You wake before him in the morning. It’s the first time such a thing has happened. You’ve rarely had the privilege of seeing him sleeping peacefully or sleeping at all, and you wish you could take a picture without disturbing him.

In your sleep, the position switched. You’re lying on your back with Javi’s head resting on your breasts, using you as a pillow. His mouth is slightly parted, his breath ruffling the lowest hairs of his mustache. His face holds none of the lines it usually does when he’s awake. He’s just Javier, resting, and he scoots closer to your body when you unintentionally move.

It’s hard not to be truly consumed by love. He’s so beautiful, and so trusting to fall asleep like this. You’ve never met Colombia Javi, never seen him in the heat of his job, but you’ve felt that he rarely lets his guard down. To see this is a symbol of how much he trusts you. You watch him with an adoring smile, your heart fluttering at the love it feels.

With your fingertips, you scratch at the nape of his neck softly, massaging his skin as he sleeps. Your fingers barely touch his skin, drifting across the surface and drawing little circles into him. With one finger, you write your signature on his upper shoulders, as if it can mark him as yours.

Time passes slowly like this, but you’re thankful. You want this to last as long as possible, so you can spend all the time you need with Javier cuddled into your side. Your mind wanders, watching Javier’s sleeping face. Wondering what the future holds for the two of you.

He’ll have to go back to Colombia. You know it. He knows it. A tiny bolt of panic races through your body at the fact that he’ll be down there, investigating another cartel and certainly putting himself in danger. The idea of him being hurt makes you terrified.

When he finally wakes, you kiss his forehead and brush his dark hair from his face. “Hi. Did you sleep better?” You ask him gently.

His eyes remain shut as he lets out a groan, rubbing his face. “Sorta. No dreams.”

“Good,” you mumble and stroke his cheek, tracing soft circles with your fingertips. “I found a fun place we can go tonight.”

Javi’s eyes flutter open to look at you, smiling softly. “I’m not really awake yet, querido.”

“Querido. I like that one,” you chuckle and kiss the bridge of his nose, feeling his sleep-warmed skin beneath your lips. “I might use that on you. I’m going to go make us coffee. Take your time waking up.”

Javier nods and rolls over, nestling into the blankets and pillows. You, on the other hand, get up from bed and do exactly that: make a pot of coffee.

The morning is spent lazily in bed, with breaks for coffee and bathroom runs. The apartment is warm to contrast the cold outside, the frost collecting on your windows visible even from bed. Javier doesn’t say much and neither do you; both of you have lots on your mind. As much as you want to talk with him about your thoughts, you figure he isn’t in the mood to talk or he’d be talking.

You drift in and out of sleep on Javier’s chest, your ear over his slowly beating heart. After a while, when you’re half asleep, Javier chuckles and wakes you. “You can fall asleep even after a cup of coffee, huh?” He teases, letting his fingertips brush across your face.

The noise that comes from your vocal chords is something between words and a hum. Basically, it’s a noise of affirmation. You cuddle closer to Javi and he kisses your head. “I love you,” he mumbles into your hair. You mumble it back, fully content in the moment. Whatever the future brings will be alright, because you have this now.

The afternoon is spent mainly in the same fashion, simply lazing around the apartment. Javier picks a Elton John vinyl from your closet and turns on the small record player in the living room. “Never pegged you as the Elton John kind,” you tease Javi from your position on the couch.

He just shrugs and looks the sleeve over, reading the contents. He removes one of the large, flat discs from the paper sleeve and sets it down, turning on the turntable and watching the record move.

The music that floats from it is soft and instrumental: Your Song. Javi turns back to you with a small smile and offers you a hand. “Let’s dance.”

Taking his hand, you stand and he wraps his arms around you. “Thought you’d be more of a sexy dancer,” you murmur into his ear, wrapping one arm over his shoulder while his hand takes yours.

“Shut up for once,” he chuckles, kissing the side of your face.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh and rest your forehead on his chest.

He sways along to the music, pulling you with him. To your surprise, he knows all of the words. His lips barely part as he sings them to you, in a low and raspy voice you can tell he doesn’t often use. The tenderness nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way he just buries his face in your hair and breathes in your scent.

“Querido,” you murmur, testing the name out. You like it, and so does Javier; he pulls you tighter against your chest as the music of the chorus swells and drops off. “What’s this all about, huh?” you ask in a whisper.

Javier takes a deep breath. You can feel it press against your chest then fade. “Just… needed to hold you.”

“Javi,” you chuckle and kiss his neck gently, innocently. “You did all night and all morning.”

He shakes his head. “Like this. It’s different.”

You nod too. You suppose you can understand it. The two of you have made a little circle around your living room, around the coffee table across from your couch. The song ends, four minutes of being pressed to Javier’s chest and feeling the full force of his love in the way his arms enveloped you.

Breaking away, your worries have escalated, the ones that kept you up after Javier’s nightmare last night. Swallowing hard, forcing yourself not to cry, you look into Javier’s eyes. His brow furrows and he immediately pulls you back into his arms. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs.

Shaking your head, you try to talk but it comes out as a watery squeak. “Nothing,” you whine.

“No, it’s not nothing,” Javier insists, leading you to the couch as Rocket Man begins from the record. He sets you down and sits next to you, both arms still around you. “Talk to me.”

The words just can’t come out, especially as the tears begin to fall from your eyes. You shake your head again and bury your face in Javier’s chest, letting them fall. You manage to finally whimper out your words a minute or so later. “I’m scared for you.”

Javier’s face falls and he lifts your head, forcing you to look at him. “Why?”

“Be-because, you’re going back to Colombia soon and you’ll be in more danger and I won’t be around and I know you, Javi, I know you put yourself in more trouble than you should, and-”

Javier cuts you off, speaking as he stares into your eyes. “Stop. Stop that thinking. It’s going to be okay. Escobar is dead.”

“But the new cartel you’re chasing isn’t, Javi!” you practically wail, body collapsing into his. “You’ll be in danger as long as you work in that damn job, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m just so scared. I’m scared for you.”

Javi takes a deep breath and nods, wiping the tears from your face. “Listen to me. Are you listening?” Your eyes dart from his and Javier grips your chin a little tighter. “Listen. This new assignment is a new job. I’m going to be in the office a lot more. These men are nowhere near as violent as the Medellín ones. This is going to be much safer. If you want, I can call Steve and you can talk to him. He’ll tell you. I’m safe on the job and I’m about to be in less danger.”

The words sink in as he talks. “Okay,” you whimper, sniffling the tears back.

“And I promise that even when I’m in Colombia, you’ll be the only thing on my mind. We’ll get those motherfuckers and I’ll come back to the States, okay?” His voice is softer now. Gentler.

“Okay,” you repeat and let your body melt into his.

Javier’s mind wanders through the options. “We could live up here. In D.C., and I could work at DEA headquarters. Or we could move to Laredo, live there. My dad would love you. Or somewhere else entirely. When I get back, we can do whatever we want.”

His words are a hidden promise; I will come back, and we can get married and have a life. “You’d better not take too long then,” you try to joke, though your broken voice ruins it a bit.

“For you, I’ll get it done in two days flat.” It makes you laugh, and Javier kisses your head. “What did you say you wanted to do tonight?” He asks you.

“Th-there’s a Christmas market in town,” you sniffle. “Since that’s coming up. I thought we could go.”

Javier nods, wiping your tears and snot with his sleeve. “That sounds great.” He rests his head on top of yours, one arm draped over your shoulders. You nuzzle into his side, feeling somewhat relieved but far from entirely.

“You could bring me with you. To Colombia,” you shrug, looking up at him with big eyes.

Javier shakes his head. “No. It’s nowhere near as safe for you. We’ve been over this, I-”

“I can hold my own,” you protest, crossing your arms.

“Not against the Calí Cartel,” he refutes you, stroking your arm. “As much as I love you and would love to have you there, it’s not happening. It’s just… not feasible. Not a good idea.”

This makes you frown deeper and your body tense. Javier kisses your head, which negates some of the stiffness in your body. “Trust me. Please. It’s not worth the trouble we’d find. Plus, you wouldn’t like it.”

“I speak Spanish,” you try to argue.

“Classroom Spanish,” Javier reminds you. “Listen. You can’t make me change my mind on this.” While his words are somewhat harsh, his tone is gentle. “I’ll come home as soon as I can, but you’re not coming with me.”

Sighing, you nod. “Then we have, what, two or three weeks until you leave?” He nods. “Then we’ll make the best of them. Get your ass up, Agent Peña. We’re getting dressed and going to the Christmas market and then we’re going to come and you’re going to rail me,” you laugh, kissing him once he’s standing.

“That’s fine with me,” he chuckles before kissing you once more. -

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[midnightseonghwa]

𝐈𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐤.𝐡𝐣

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Werewolf!Hongjoong x Witch!Reader

✕ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Werewolf, witch au and fluff

✕ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.4k+

✕ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Slightly like very slightly suggestive, mention of mating marks, injury and the ‘99 line bothering Seonghwa

✕ 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕ 𝐀/𝐍: This was requested by anon! I’m so glad you requested for a sequel! While this can be read as a stand alone, it’d be nice if you read the prequel as well. Thank you requesting anon and let me know what you think~

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: Hello Stranger 

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈: Shine Together 

✕ 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: here 

✕ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @teeztheflag​

Small kisses trailed up your palm, the kisser's lips rough and chapped due to the cold weather.

Stroking your thumb over Hongjoong's cheek you gave him a warm smile before laughing at the ticklish sensation.

"Stop, Hongjoong. It's ticklish," you whispered, the bright silver light of the moon coming through the windows of your shared bedroom.

"Can't help it," he said, voice breathy and barely audible as his eyes swirled a loving red.

You and Hongjoong had already been mated for a couple of years, running the pack together without any hitches but no matter how much time bled away into the Earth, the love he held in his eyes never seemed to fade away.

The same loving red, the burning passion that you felt through your bond as well. The belief that everything would be alright as long as you two stuck together had carved its way into your chest and nestled between the loving caresses of your mate's touches.

"You're so beautiful," Hongjoong whispered back and pressed his lips to each fingertip, the touch feather-light and delicate.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his, drinking in every feature and line that had made its way onto your mate's face.

"I love you," you said, every pent up emotion being released into those few words that Hongjoong would never get tired of hearing.

"I love-"

"(Y/n)!" A distressed Yeosang burst into your arm, causing Hongjoong to growl slightly and cover your t-shirt clad figure with his body.

Yeosang's words died in his throat as he took in his pack leaders' states, a slight blush making its way onto his face as he raised his hands and backed out the door before you got out of bed, pulled a pair Hongjoong's shorts on and dismissed your growling alpha with a flick of your hand.

"What is it Yeosang?" You asked, growing slightly panicked at the thought of something happening to one of your packmates.

"Nothing, luna," he gave a nervous smile to Hongjoong who was still glaring daggers at the boy.

"Hongjoong, stop," you said, glancing back at your mate who just huffed and flopped back onto the bed.

"Is someone injured?" You asked, causing Hongjoong to sit up quickly, muscles taut as he got ready to go out and protect his pack, his mate.

"No..." Yeosang trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck before he produced a few burnt hairs that were lying in his palm.

"Seonghwa got hurt?" You shrieked, rushing back to pull Hongjoong out of bed.

"Ah, no, I may have burnt his hairs off myself?" Yeosang said, unsure of his actions as well.

"What do you mean?" You asked, hand slipping from Hongjoong's who just grabbed it again with a roll of his eyes.

"It means, my love that our healer Yeosang here, was trying one of your potions again and burnt Seonghwa's hair," Hongjoong said and pulled you back into bed, nosing your neck and kissing the red mating mark.

You shivered, pulling away from your mate and looking at Yeosang with wide eyes.

"Really? Again? I hope it's a joke this time," you said, but the shy smile on Yeosang's face and San suddenly coming through the door told you that it was not.

"Come on, boys. I have some of the cure left over from last time," you said, sighing and giving Hongjoong a kiss before turning to look at the boys.

"I'll be back, love," you whispered and interlaced your hands together before Hongjoong gave you a smile and kissed your locked hands.

"Come back soon," he said and you laughed.

"Always."

Hongjoong wasn't sure when exactly you came back to bed, having fallen asleep while waiting. But seeing you curled up against his chest in the morning was a sight he could watch on repeat for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and still never get bored of it.

Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, he stretched his arms above his head before he heard you shift next to him.

"Joongie?" You called and patted the pillow next to you, a small frown taking over your lips when you weren't able to feel himself.

"I'm right here, love," he said and laid back down, turning to face you.

"When did you get back last night?" He asked, causing you to laugh, the sound being dry and almost hopeless.

"Not soon enough," you replied, sighing and then getting out of bed to stretch your limbs.

"The damage was worse than I thought so Seonghwa's going to be in wolf form for a couple of days," you said and Hongjoong winced, huffing at the endearing nuisance his younger packmates were.

"I'm guessing that's not the only thing?" He asked and you let out a weak snort, rolling your eyes.

"What do you take your boys for?" You asked and shook your head.

"Of course that wasn't the only thing. They burned through half my herbs and now I have to go herb picking earlier than I had scheduled," you said, rubbing your hands all over your face with a huff.

Hongjoong nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead before giving you some clothes to change into. He always loved it when you wore his clothes, the primal instinct in him coming to life when he knew that other lycans would be able to smell him on you.

"I'm pretty sure the boys are waiting for us," he said and sent you off to the bathroom with a little smack on your behind.

The house was eerily quiet as you and Hongjoong walked down the stairs. Something about the situation had Hongjoong's wolf itching at the surface and you could feel his unease through your bond.

Placing your into his, you muttered a small spell, one you had to keep memorised after being mated to Hongjoong for so long. The alpha who got protective and riled up at everything had to be kept calm and while a mate's presence often helped, you knowing a calming spell was just the cherry on top.

"Stop calm spelling me," Hongjoong muttered under his breath before pinching you on the arm slightly, causing you to yelp and pull away from him, only for him to pull you back and wrap his arms around you.

"What're you going to do if we're attacked and I'm all calm under your touch?" He asked, nosing at your throat, his fingers caressing your bare spine under his t-shirt. The feeling sent electrical impulses down your spine, making all snarky replied and bit backs die in the back of your throat.

Hongjoong knew exactly how to get you, where to touch to make sure you felt everything and he always took advantage of it, the sneaky lycan.

"I'm sure I'll be able to take the attackers you're talking about myself," you replied back, clearing your throat and pulling away from him to clear the cloudy haze that was beginning to seep in.

"I can't believe Seonghwa just saw all that," San said, his voice horrified as he took in his pack alpha and luna standing at the landing of the staircase feeling each other up.

"Uh, good morning," you said and cleared your throat, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat next to Yeosang who was petting Seonghwa's big brown wolf.

Pulling a few pieces of fruit and toast onto your plate, you thanked the Earth for its offering before smiling down at Seonghwa who was gazing at you intensely.

"How are you feeling today?" You asked, stroking the patch of fur around his air that was shorter and more coarse than the rest.

The wolf huffed and took the piece of toast off your plate before sitting down next to you.

"Rude wolf," you muttered under your breath and reached forward to take another piece of toast.

"Seonghwa's just annoyed because he saw everything you and Hongjoong did on the landing," San said and smirked at the pack alpha who just bared his teeth at his younger packmate.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Seonghwa," you cooed and bent down to pet the giant wolf as he nuzzled into your hand.

Although you, Seonghwa and Wooyoung had gotten off on the wrong foot, both of them were now the closest to you, save for Yeosang and San.

They often helped you collect ad sort herbs if Yeosang was ever busy.

"The weather's really nice today," Jongho said, earning curious glances from his fellow packmates.

"And?" Hongjoong asked, munching on a piece of toast.

"Why don't we go out into the forest? Seonghwa is already in his wolf form and it'll be nice to run free for a while," the younger suggested, earning a sideways glance from Seonghwa who had now sauntered up to San.

You nodded and stood up, gathering your basket and coming back to the table. Meanwhile, the boys helped Hongjoong clean the dishes before they stepped outside into the bright winter sun, weather windy but sky blue.

"What herbs do you need?" Hongjoong asked and you gave him a pointed look, glancing at the boys who had now taken on their wolf forms, their furs shining under the sun.

"Just the usual, sage, echinacea, milk thistle flowers and others," you said and Hongjoong tilted his head questioningly, not quite understanding any of the plants you were naming.  

"Just ask Yeosang, make it a punishment," Hongjong mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead before running up to the others in his white wolf form.

While you wanted to go across the pack lands, one huff from Hongjoong made you roll your eyes at his protectiveness, choosing to stay within the boundaries instead.

The wolves all bathed under the sun, ears lax on their heads as some snoozed while others just rolled around, tails wagging like happy puppies.

Bending down to dig some of the roots out, you heard a low growl come from behind you before you frantically stood up, rushing to where your mate and packmates were being petted by some very enthusiastic forest spirits, the lingering tinkle of laughter in the air.

"Yunho, the puppies are so cute," Mingi cooed, stroking Hongjoong on the hair, the wolf growling at the spirit.

"I agree! Who's a good boy, are you a good boy," Yunho asked, his voice rising in pitch as he scratched behind Seonghwa's ears, the wolf releasing purring sounds before they changed into scratchy growls.

"Hey, boys," you greeted, tucking the basket over your arm before making your way over to your mate, sitting down next to the enormous white alpha.

"Sorceress," Mingi yelled, stroking some strands of hair from your face before pulling out a small bouquet of chamomile flowers.

"We found them growing near your old house, figured you might need it," he said and dropped it in your basket before sticking his tongue out at Hongjoong.

The wolf huffed, shifting to rest his heavy head in your lap as you moved to thread your fingers through his fur.

"Thank you, boys," you said, smiling at the two forest spirits who were now bothering Jongho.

"Are there any more herbs you need?" Yunho asked, floating over to you, a  look of mirth in his eyes as Jongho tried to nip at Mingi's arm.

"Some lavender would be nice," you shrugged, missing the nice fragrance of the purple flowers.

"Ah, those are hard to come by," Yunho said, thinking hard about where lavender could be located in the forest.

"Maybe even some tree bark," you said and saw from the corner of your eyes as Yeosang and San perked up.

"Those are located near the lake," Yunho said and you nodded before pointing to Hongjoong's big white wolf who was snoozing on your lap, snores coming from his nose.

Before you could move his head, Yeosang and San jumped up with happy yips, sauntering towards the lake to pick the tree barks you had requested.

Prideful wolves...

You rolled your eyes, before lying down in the grass, Seonghwa coming up and lying next to your head, his large paws heavy as they rested on your arms.

"How are you feeling?" You asked, tone soft as you looked at a sleeping Hongjoong.

The brown wolf made some foreign noise before rolling over onto his back. You laughed and scratched his belly, his large furry tail wagging at the sensation.

The sky had taken up an orange hue by the time San and Yeosang and returned, various bunches of roots, leaves and barks handing from their mouths.

"There you guys are," you said, smiling at the other pack members who were now bidding you goodbye.

"Where have you been?" You asked, handing them each a shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Tree barks were harder to collect than we thought," San said, emerging from fully clothed and human.

"We picked up whatever we could find," Yeosang added, handing you muddy clumps of plants.

You gazed at the plants, separating them with your fingers when you felt hands wrap themselves around your waist.

"Hey, love," Hongjoong said, planting some kissed up your neck before setting his head above your shoulder.

"Hi," you greeted back, kissing the side of his head before looking at the two boys standing in front of you.

"Uh," you stuttered, looking at Yeosang with a pained look.

"Do you even read the guide of herbs I had given you?" You asked, petting your hands rest on top of Hongjoong's.

"Yes?" He said, making it sound more like a question.

"Then you will know that these are poisonous," you said, holding up some roots by their leaves.

Hongjoong snorted, hiding his face in your shoulder trying his best to control his laugh as Yeosang fidgeted under your gaze.

"How was I supposed to know?" He said and looked to Hongjoong who just laughed.

"You are supposed to know because you're the one who's learning the art of witch healing," San bit back before taking the roots from your hands and retreating into Hongjoong and your house.

"Ah, I'm sorry (Y/n)," Yeosang flushed, picking up the other plants and then rushing behind San.

You turned to Hongjoong with a smile on your face as the sky turned a dark pink, the orange bleeding into red which would ultimately turn black.

"Your packmates are crazy," you said, cupping your mate's cheeks.

"Our packmates, love," Hongjoong laughed, kissing your palms, as he pulled you close.

"Quite right," you said, connecting your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss.

"I love you, my lovely mate," Hongjoong whispered, the shared promise of forever hanging from the hushed words.

"I love you too."

[thunderc1an]

po3 rewrite(?) chapter 1:

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

The deep rumble beneath his paws lulled him back into unconscious darkness while the smell of sweet milk soothed him.

Time passed, enough time that the rumble underneath him now had slipped into his mind pulling him from the comforting darkness. Green eyes opened slowly, the soft cream world before him blurred and it was not until he blinked that fur came into focus. He nuzzled into the thick warm strands, chasing after the fleeting unconscious nature that came with dreaming.

“Mousekit,” The fur spoke to him lovingly. “Mousekit, your littermates are already up and playing outside the nursery, why don’t you join them as well?” 

He whines unfairly, and rebels by smushing his nose against the warm mass; it stops him from breathing. When air becomes a necessity, he lifts his head quickly with a huff. Daisy laughs at her kit’s antics, it’s an airy laugh and to Mousekit it brought this deep rooted joy to his chest, he smiles cheekily as a result. And his smile was rewarded with a lick atop his forehead. The kit blinks and looks up at his mother, her blue eyes nudge him away, and he finally complies. Shaky paws support his weight as he stands.

He stays by the nursery’s entrance, looking back to see if his mother was watching him, but Daisy’s attention was pulled to Squirrelflight, the three small dark bundles at her belly sleep peacefully. Berrykit hated them, for they would always cry and make a fuss whenever they did not have a full belly, which was often. Squirrelflight was able to produce milk just fine but not enough for all three kits. The clan was currently going through a shortage of prey, or that was what Hazelkit had told him she heard from the older warriors. When he does scamper into the camp’s clearing he thinks he rather likes them for they have a father that was a loner, and to the small kit that meant they have something in common. Although there was a shortage of prey the clan was still bustling with movement, warriors talked amongst themselves in the shadows of their dens and to the far left an elder was scolding an apprentice’s ear off.

Mousekit’s world turned sharply when paws slammed him to the floor. Green eyes look up and they reveal a laughing Berrykit.

“You spent all sun-high sleeping!” The cream furred kit exclaimed loudly.

And, another voice at his side said: “We were about to go and wake you ourselves” Hazelkit peered down at him, her smile bright with muted laughter. 

“Well, I’m here now” He says, a pout on his muzzle. “That’s true” Hazelkit responded happily all the while pushing Berrykit off him, the cream tom says a small ‘Hey!’ in protest as Mousekit was freed from the weight of his brother. Berrykit may be the bigger one of the three but it was clear that Hazelkit held a growing strength to her under soft white and grey fur.

The kits began to play, or rather the game of the day was to unbalance one another, their delighted squeals and laughter rang above the clan’s quick paced atmosphere. And when they became more rowdy a shadow loomed over the three, tinged with gold but not at all menacing, the kits looked up, their actions paused. Hazelkit’s jaws were clamped down onto Berrykit’s already short tail, and Mousekit had somehow managed to end up with his body pressed against the hard ground again. Brackenfur stands before them, his short, but thick, fur shined brightly with the help from the strong sun planted overhead. “You kits are old enough to know you shouldn’t be making a ruckus in the middle of the camp.” The deputy scolds, but the way he smiles endearingly down at them was clear they would not be in any serious trouble. 

Mousekit thought about how much he liked Thunderclan’s deputy as his littermates and him straightened themselves. Brackenfur was kind and fair with every cat in the clan but the elders had always fussed that the older tom was always too lenient with noisy kits and young apprentices. They said that this was supposedly due to the incident with Snowkit, but Mousekit had never seen a character by the name of Snowkit in camp before and he was mighty shy to ask the deputy himself who this elusive kit was.

“Run along, go find your mother” he meows to them but before he lets them be he takes a glance to the side before leaning in closer to the kits. Mousekit notes there was a small strand of grey fur that stuck to the tom’s golden muzzle. “You may want to go now for I shall share with you what a small rabbit told me at moon-high.” Amber eyes bounce with joy. “I heard that three strong and courageous kits will receive their apprentice names today.” His statement alone was enough to cause the three kits to bolt towards the nursery. Berrykit was first to enter, followed by Hazelkit and finally Mousekit who stumbled inside. “We’re going to become apprentices!” Berrykit announced loudly. Both Daisy and Squirrelflight looked up at their, very, loud entrance. As soon as the words leave Berrykit’s short muzzle the dark bundles at Squirreflight’s belly begin to cry for their mother, afraid at what they must think is an intruder. The red queen is quick to ease their tears while Daisly softly reprimands her son for the noise.

Hazelkit is the second to speak, her words leveled, but still full of the same enthusiasm as her littermate: “Mom, did you know? Brackenfur just told us so.” Daisy's attention is pulled to her other kit, her frown shapes into a smile. “I did know,” 

“Then why didn’t you tell us!” Mousekit squeaks, hurt from the fact that Daisy had not told them such important information. The cream molly giggles “I just wished to have one more morning with you three nestled by my side” And these words cause Mousekit to pause, a sudden sense of sadness washes over his white fur. He wondered if he'd get to be by his mother’s side once more when he would finish his apprentice duties. It seemed that Hazelkit shared his same sentiment for she quickly asked their mother: “Will we ever get to see you again?”. Daisy laughed airily, but this time it caused the sadness to clench Mousekit’s chest, would he ever hear this laugh again?

The creamed molly licked her kits reassuringly. “Of course little ones, you can always come and visit me whenever you feel like it, actually, you three better come and visit me everyday” Daisy orders them, but it does not feel like an order to them, not in the slightest. A yowl sounds from the clearing, a signal of a clan meeting. Berrykit gasps “That must be Firestar! It’s time!” He squeals, being the first to run out of the nursery, Hazelnut leaves as well, her head held proudly as the light from the outside engulfs her. Mousekit stays near his mother, he looks to Squirrelflight “Will you come watch us as well?” He asked politely. The daughter of the clan leader smiles sweetly at his politeness. “For you? Always twerp”. The kit smiles joyfully and runs off as well, he hears the voice of Squirrelflight tell Daisy she wishes her kits to grow into kind cats as Daisy’s kits have, Daisy responds with a giggle but that is all the conversation he hears.

Firestar stood tall, above the sea of cats. His smile was gentle, like a father, as he seemed to be supportive of each and every individual cat. Hazelkit had told him that Firestar was once a kittypet, heard it from the elders she said, a kittypet who saved the clans. Mousekit wondered if this respected cat suffered the same looks his family would often receive for being outsiders. Of course those senior warriors that looked down on his family did not do it openly, but at times when playing with his littermates in the clan’s clearing he could feel the stares. Hazelkit was not bothered in the slightest, but Berrykit certainly was, he always made comments about it to their mother, and Daisy would always soothingly reassure him that it meant nothing, but, every time Mousekit would see this unknown emotion in her eye when Berrykit complained; that was why Mousekit never spoke about the looks. The kit went to stand by Hazelkit’s side, and not too far from the pair of littermates Berrykit sat arguing with Honeypaw. Honeypaw was part of the litter that had become apprentices before the three, her and Berrykit would usually butt heads with one another, and that had not changed in the slightest when she left the nursery a moon ago. Yet, soon their argument is settled when Firestar calls for silence.

He begins the meeting by first calling Berrykit’s name, some words were stated by the leader and then the orange tom called for a warrior by the name of Brambleclaw. Mousekit’s ears pricked, both with unease and clear confusion, as a murmur swept through the clan when a large dark tabby tom stepped forward; the warrior seemed unbothered as the clan’s quiet words fell short of him. The sea of cats settled when Firestar called for the next kit. Hazelkit was given the name of Hazelpaw and the Thunderclan leader called for Spiderleg who gave her an unsightly look when the two touched noses.

“Mousekit,” Firestar finally called his name and the kit’s legs threatened to shake. “Just as your littermates you have reached six moons of age meaning you are ready to become an apprentice. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Mousepaw.” The now made apprentice look wildly at the warriors around him, who will be his mentor? Who will train him? He had not given much thought of it until this moment, it was an important factor if he wished to become a respected warrior of Thunderclan

“Brackenfur,” Firestar stated and Mousepaw openly gawked, the clan’s deputy stepped forward. “You are ready to take on your next apprentice, Graystripe, I, and the entire clan have taught you well.” The mention of the last deputy made a few warriors bow their head almost simultaneously. No one had explained to the apprentice who this Graystripe actually was, the only knowledge he had of the former deputy that disappeared was that they were a slightly carefree and very easy-going. The bright colored tom continued: “You have shown yourself to be fair but equally strong, and I hope all that you have learned will be passed down onto Mousepaw''. Brackenfur lowered his head respectively to his leader and he stepped closer to the young cat. Both touched noses with one another and there was a shyness to Mousepaw as he was face-to-face with such a respected cat seemingly alone in a big clearing.

The clan calls their names, some hesitate but the majority of the clan explodes with noise. Mousepaw looks behind him and sees Daisy and Squirrelflight at the side of the nursery, his mother shined with joy, brighter than any cloudless sky. The cheers around him cause for the shyness to wash away his fur, he’s ecstatic, happy. He feels the weight of his littermates on him again as they joyfully tackle him to the ground. They laugh together in union.

This was the best!

[blessyourhondahurley]

I'll Be (Your) Home for Christmas

(Read on AO3)

"We should be back in the Bunker by now," Dean spits. The walls of their cheap motel room still vibrate from how hard he'd slammed the door on his way in. "It's Christmas fucking Eve and we shouldn't still be here." His shoulders slump as the rage leaves him in a rush and only dejection remains. "This is not how it was supposed to go, goddammit," he grits out under his breath.

Cas freezes, caught awkward and helpless in the face of Dean's outburst. He aches to fix this situation for his friend. If he could, he would snap his fingers and solve the case. He would eradicate monsters from the face of the earth. If nothing else, he would at least be able to teleport them both back to the Bunker, where Jack and Sam and Eileen and Miracle are waiting for them with presents and food and Christmas cheer. With his grace gone, though, he's powerless, useless. He stays where he is -- on his feet, between the musty beds, arms limp at his sides -- and waits to see what Dean does next.

"I gotta--" The hunter runs a shaky hand through his hair. "I gotta get out of here for a little bit. I saw a strip mall a couple miles down the road, m'gonna go grab us some dinner and a coupla six packs."

Cas takes a step toward the door, intending to join him for the trip, but Dean raises a palm. "You hang here. I'll be back in an hour or so." And then Cas is alone in the room. From the silence that follows his friend's exit, Dean is making the trip on foot, presumably in need of a walk to clear his head.

Cas lets out a heavy breath and sinks down onto one of the beds, his head in his hands. The case had looked so simple a week ago -- a "milk run" as Sam and Dean like to say. But the deeper they look, the more complicated it becomes, and their breezy plans to tie things up quickly and be back in time to celebrate Christmas as a family have been crushed into dust. It's a terrible disappointment to Cas, but it's a heartbreak for Dean, who had thrown himself headlong into plans for their first "real" holiday together in a post-Chuck world.

He thinks about the way Dean's beautiful face had fallen today when the case hit the latest dead end, and the memory is galvanizing. He leaps to his feet, resolute, a plan of action taking shape in his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Dean returns to the room an hour and a half later, the space has been transformed to the best of Cas's meager human abilities. A makeshift chain of (mostly clean) socks tied together drapes more or less gaily over the door frame. The complimentary notepads from the bedside table have been folded into dozens of tiny origami snowflakes, which are stuck to the walls with dabs of toothpaste. Festive lighting is provided by colored t-shirts over the lampshades. He's pushed the beds against opposite walls so that the table can take pride of place, and spread a plaid shirt over it as a tablecloth. Arrayed on the flannel are the spoils of a raid on the motel's vending machines, featuring some of Dean's favorite snacks. The TV casts a cheery glow in the far corner -- a classic Christmas movie is playing with the sound turned low.

It's nothing like the elegant holiday scenes they show in the movies. But given his limited time and resources, Cas thinks he's justified in feeling a bit of pride at how well it all turned out.

Dean certainly seems impressed.

"Holy shit, Cas, what happened in here?" he asks. There's a soft and wondering expression on his face as he looks around the room.

"I wanted to do something for you," Cas replies. "I saw how excited you were for our Christmas celebration, and how upset you are to be missing it. I know being here with me is a poor substitute for the holiday you were planning, but..." he shrugs. "I hope this helps a little."

"Poor substi--" Dean shakes his head and drops the bags he'd been carrying. "Cas, the whole reason I was so excited for Christmas was because I wanted to share it with you. I had so many things I wanted to show you... Here, look what I got!"

He dumps one of the bags onto the bed, pouring out a pile of decorations. "Guess we both had the same idea, huh?" he remarks with a grin. They take turns pulling items from the heap -- garlands, tinsel, ornaments, candy canes, even a handful of chocolate dreidels -- and adding them to the decor of the room.

When they're done, Dean produces two large clamshell containers from another bag and sets them on the table with a flourish. "Dinner for two from our favorite burger joint," he declares. Turning back to the bags, he lays a few more items on the dingy bedspread. "Bottle of cheap red," he narrates, "And pie, obviously. Then after we eat..." He hands Cas a copy of Battleship and a jigsaw puzzle. "Games," he announces.

It's Cas's turn to be impressed. No, more than that: Cas is floored. He sits down on one of the beds and he marvels. "You got all of this for us, for tonight?"

"Yeah, 'course," Dean replies, taking a seat next to him. "I wanted to give you a real Christmas this year. Decorations and food and booze and music and all the trimmings, you know? We got a taste of that with Mrs. Butters, but you missed out, and I hated that. It wasn't a real celebration without you, man." The hunter reaches one more time into the bags behind them, and pulls his hand out with fist clenched around something small. His eyes fix on the small stretch of blankets between them, and a light flush spreads across his cheeks. "I, um... I picked up one more thing while I was out. Not sure if you're familiar with this tradition, but..."

He unfolds his hand and displays a small sprig of mistletoe, a red ribbon tied around the stem. "If-if you don't want... We don't have to--" he stammers.

Cas plucks the plant from his friend's hand and holds it over his own head. "Like this, right?" he murmurs, and licks his lips.

Dean nods, gaze trained on the pink peek of Cas's tongue. He leans in, and Cas meets him halfway.

It starts out chaste and sweet. But after a few heartbeats the kiss deepens, and their hands begin to wander. When they eventually have to come up for air they're laid out together across the bed -- hair mussed, mouths flushed, clothes a tad askew. There's a love-drunk smile stretched across Cas's face, and he feels like it might be permanent. Then something sobering occurs to him. "I'm still sorry you can't be home for Christmas," he whispers.

Dean grins and pecks him on the nose. "Baby, I'm exactly where I wanna be."

[apriorisea]

Grocery shopping with BTS pls? 💕

--I love this idea so much, thank you for the request!! I hope you like my take on it~~ 💕💜

Seokjin: 

When it’s time to grocery shop, you always clear a few hours on your schedule

Because when you shop with Seokjin, it’s an event

He has to test at least 4 shopping carts to find The Best One

You’re never exactly sure what his criteria is for The Best One, but trust his judgment completely

Once the cart has been chosen, he very calmly leans against it and waits until you tuck your arm through his before beginning the journey

No shopping list needed

He loves to take his time in the store

The two of you wander up and down every aisle, grabbing whatever you need or want

You never skip an aisle--NEVER

Pet aisle? Check. Toys aisle? Of course. Household cleaning? Definitely. Automobile accessories? Duh.

The two of you don’t even talk that much

You just enjoy shuffling around the entire grocery store together, grabbing things off the shelves as needed

When you’ve made your way through every aisle, he stops and turns to look at you.  “What do you think, Princess?” he asks with a small smile. “Did we get everything we need?” You glance at the cart and grin. “I sure hope so!” “Should we go home then?” You lean up to kiss his cheek. “Yes. Let’s go home and make that pasta!” He tucks your arm back through his and guides you both towards the checkout lines.

After you load the groceries into the car together, he always wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you before you go home

Yoongi: 

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, handing you his phone. “Did I miss anything?” Smiling faintly, you take the device from him and scan the list. “Nope. It looks good to me. Are you ready to go?” “...You didn’t look at it for very long.” “Yoongi, I---” but you cut yourself off at the sight of his disgruntled expression: he’s too cute to be annoying, you decide. Shaking your head slightly, you look at the shopping list again. “I promise, baby, it looks good. You never miss anything!” He seems more satisfied as he takes his phone back. “I made a new category this time,” he adds as you both go to put your shoes on. “Different types of vegetables.” You smile, unable to hold back how much you love this absolute nerd of yours. “I saw, baby. It’s genius.” You lean up to kiss his cheek. “Just like you!”

Since he loves to cook so much, Yoongi takes shopping pretty seriously

He always has a plan for what meals he wants to make/eat for that week, and uses that to create the most detailed shopping list you’d ever seen

It’s got everything: organized sections, subsections, items sorted by category, etc etc

Because he’s so organized, shopping trips never take very long

The two of you move from one aisle to the next with perfect efficiency, following his list easily

While you shop, you talk: about his day, about your day, about politics and the weather and gossip and plans for the week

The only time you don’t talk is when he has to choose something, like a piece of produce or cut of meat

He takes his time, wanting to get the absolute best

While he studies the stalks of broccoli, you slip behind him and wrap your arms around him, absently kissing in-between his shoulder blades while he deliberates

When he finally makes his decision, he always turns to show it to you

Though he’s the expert, he waits until you approve before putting the item in the cart

He also definitely has his own way of organizing the things in the cart, so that when you reach the checkout, everything is ready to go

He won’t admit it out loud, but as the two of you drive home, you can tell how secretly pleased he is with the venture

Hoseok: 

He always starts the shopping trip with perfectly clear intentions

As you drive to the store, he happily chatters away about the things you guys need to get and what brands are best

But every single time, without fail, the plan falls apart as soon as the actual shopping begins

It’s not always the same item or aisle, but there’s always something that catches his interest and derails the entire plan

“So we should probably get the veggies first,” he’s saying cheerfully, walking alongside you as you push the cart. “And then---” You can’t help but grin as you hear him fall silent abruptly. “Hobi? What is it?” “Angel...” he tugs the cart in a different direction, leading you towards the meat section. “I know we were going to do salad and pasta tonight, but...” His eyes are wide and he’s practically salivating as he looks over the prime cuts of beef.  Swallowing your laugh, you bump your hip against his. “Do you wanna do meat instead?” He turns to you with puppy-dog eyes. “Can we?” The laugh breaks through, but you reach up to kiss him at the end of it. “We can do whatever you want, my hope.”

The rest of the shopping trip is centered around the side dishes that will accentuate the newly chosen main dish

Sometimes he ends up buying the things needed for the original plan anyway

He doesn’t like to push the cart, mostly because he gets distracted easily

Sometimes you feel like a mom taking your kid shopping, because he’ll wander away from you to investigate something for a bit

But he always comes back and holds on to the side of the cart again, letting you tow him along to the next stopping point

You’re not entirely sure why, but he really likes to pay in cash for groceries

On the way out to the car, he steals the cart from you and hops up on the back to go for a little ride

All the way home he’s chattering about how excited he is about the new plan

Namjoon: 

He is one of the most brilliant men on the entire planet, you’re certain

But grocery shopping is one of his kryptonites

The entire shopping trip is literally just kind of a mess

Without a set plan, Namjoon’s quick mind races ahead of his logic

So you start in the grain aisle

But suddenly he decides you have to go to the frozen section all the way across the store for some ice cream

After the ice cream, he remembers you need vegetables, so you go back to the opposite end of the store

You guys hop from aisle to aisle at a whim

This usually means you have to double back sometimes

It also means you frequently go down the same aisle more than once, because he forgot another item the first time

“Okay,” you grin, putting the loaf of bread into the cart. “Bread - check!” “Perfect,” he grins back. “Now...oh! We definitely need eggs.” Trapping you in between the cart and his broad chest, the two of you make your way to the refrigerated aisle for eggs. After the eggs are secured, you look up at him. “What now?” “Hmm...” he thinks for a moment. “Oh, Jin-hyung asked us to grab some bagels, too.” He whips the cart around, angling it back towards the aisle you had just left. You can’t suppress your laugh.  Looking down at you as he turns back down the bread aisle, he can’t help but grin at your giggles. “I know, I know,” he grumbles playfully. “I forgot earlier!” You squirm out of his arms to grab the bagels, placing them in the cart and looking back up at him. “What now?” Arching one eyebrow, you tease, “Cheese?” “No,” he says, shooting you a dirty look. “Next we need...” His confidence melts away. “....mimph,” he finishes with a mumble. “A what?” You press, returning to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I couldn’t hear you.” Exhaling heavily, he lets go of the cart and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead before saying explosively. “Milk! Okay, we need milk.” “Milk? You mean...the milk that’s back by---” “---by the eggs, yes.” “...You’re lucky I love you.”

No matter how messy the actual shopping trip is, the two of you always end up with exactly what you need

And you always have the best time getting it done 

Jimin: 

Like any other activity the two of you do together, Jimin can’t keep his hands off of you, even while you shop for groceries

Throughout the trip, he is constantly peppering you with little kisses

On the cheek, the forehead, your shoulder, your arm, the back of your neck, the top of your head, etc etc

Anytime you stop for an item, he pulls you into his arms somehow

He loves when it takes a while to decide which can of corn to grab, because that means he can wrap his arms around you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder for a long time

Even though he’s clingy, he’s the perfect little gopher for you and will do whatever you want

“Jiminie?” you say, without looking up from the list on your phone. “Can you go grab me a good bag of apples?” He plants a final kiss on the crook of your neck and straightens. “Absolutely, my babygirl. Any certain kind you want?” He squeezes your waist. “Just get a good one. No bruises.” “Yes ma’am,” he agrees, leaning in to brush a kiss to your cheek before disappearing. While he’s gone, you maneuver the cart to the next thing on your list with one hand, keeping most of your attention on your list. Just a few more things--- “Babygirl!” You feel gentle but strong hands wrap around you, pulling your hand away from the cart. One arm still wrapped around you, Jimin puts the bag of apples in the cart and then pulls you against him. “I push the cart, remember??” You scoff a laugh, looking at him playfully. “I didn’t push it that far!” He pouts. “That doesn’t matter. It’s my job.” “Okay, okay.” You reach up to put your hand on the side of his face gently. “I’m sorry, babe. Can you grab me that bag of marshmallows?” He eyes you. “Are you going to stay right here?” “Yes.” “And not touch the cart?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Yes!” “Okay, then.”

He always insists on pushing the cart

AND getting all of the heavy things

Though he never says it outright, you can always tell he’s just a little disappointed when the shopping trip is over

Any time he gets to spend with just you, uninterrupted, is his favorite time

Taehyung:

Two words: secret shopper.

The two of you start out with a list and a plan

And he’s the best at helping you fulfill that plan

He’ll grab things off the shelves without being asked or reminded

Most of the time he remembers to grab things you’d completely forgotten about

But every single time, without fail, when you get to the register and are unloading the items onto the belt, there are numerous things you don’t recognize

“Tae!” You hold up the box of Poptarts for him to see. “What is this??” He studies it for a moment. “It’s a box of Poptarts, honey,” he answers innocently. You sigh. “I know what they are, Taehyung, but what are they doing in our cart??” He shrugs, coming to you and taking the box out of your hand, squeezing your wrist before placing the treat on the conveyer belt. “They looked good.” “I didn’t even see you put them in there...” you mumble, watching the box zip towards the cashier. Turning back to the cart, you reach in---and find yourself holding a fluffy chicken-shaped dog toy. Turning to him, you simply hold it up wordlessly. “For Tannie,” he says, his boxy smile crawling across his face. “Look---it squeaks!” You can’t help but smile back. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” You put the toy on the belt. “I’m just concerned that I never even noticed it was in there...” When you turn back, he’s holding a box of your favorite candies---another item that definitely wasn’t on the list. “Here, honey-love,” he says, innocently, pushing the box into your hands. “I also grabbed these!”

Though you always end up with far more than you meant to get, he always makes sure to “secret-shop” you a couple of things you love too

When they’re in season, he always secret-shops you a bouquet of beautiful flowers

When using the self-checkout option, he always puts all of his secret-shop items into one bag

So on the way home he can randomly pull out little treats or surprises you might have missed

When you get home, he always leans across the center console in the car and kisses you seriously. “I love our shopping trips.”

Jungkook: 

Grocery shopping with Jungkook is pretty simple, really

He always likes to wear one of his giant, oversized hoodies

He drops you off at the front of the store then goes to find a parking spot so you don’t have to walk in the cold

You guys always push the cart together

He frequently sings along with the occasionally-corny music

The two of you work really well together, taking turns grabbing the things you need from each aisle

He always grabs the heavy things

But sometimes likes to make you struggle for the things on high shelves for a bit before stepping in to help you

He’s actually really good at making decisions

So anytime you’re stuck between two different kinds of pasta or two brands of milk, he’s always willing to step in and help you choose

The only real quirk he has about grocery shopping (and it’s tiny, really) is his undying and all-encompassing LOVE for the snack aisle

“All right,” you say, looking at the almost-full shopping cart. “I think that’s everything.” “Okay, cool,” he says, pretending like it hardly matters.”Soo....” “Soo...” you copy him. “Are you ready to go home?” His face falls. “Baby.” You laugh, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “I’m kidding, babyboy. Let’s go to the snack aisle!” His bright, bunny-smile fills his whole face as he grabs the cart with one hand and your hand with the other and directs you guys towards his favorite place in the whole store. As he peruses the aisle very seriously, you watch him with a fond smile. “What would you do if I weren’t kidding, though?” “Hmm?” he asks, too engrossed in his search. “What if...” you say, moving closer to him, “One day I genuinely forget about the snack aisle?” He scoffs, reaching out blindly to snake an arm around your waist. “You would never do that, darling.” “Oh?” you grin. “And how do you know that?” “Because that would be breaking The Rule,” he says confidently, finally selecting a snack and tossing it carefully into the cart. “And you’d never do that.” “The Rule?” you repeat. “That sounds so fancy.” Giving you his full attention, he says very seriously: “Whenever we go to the store, we both have to leave with at least one tasty snack.” A tiny smile peeks through. “It’s The Rule.” “Ohhhhh...” you grin. “That rule. So did you choose your snack?” “One of them,” he winks, releasing you to study more items. “Choose yours, darling!”

After you have both selected your snack for the evening, he cheerfully steers the cart to the checkout stand

He always makes sure that the cashier leaves out the snacks so you can both enjoy them on the drive home

[ladyhallen]

The Making of a Sanctuary

Read on AO3 

(no link to FFN, because it’s freaking misbehaving. It’s on time out at the moment.)

The first child of the Sanctuary was a boy.

He was a street urchin but Harry, passing by him on the street, felt the magic and paused. With a distracted air, Harry rummaged through his bags and produced a piece of bread.

Harry handed the child the bread and left.

But the child remembered.

The next day, when Harry realized that he needed more cheese, he passed by the same child and gave him another piece of bread.

The child devoured the bread, latched on to Harry’s cloak, and then doesn’t let go.

Harry looked at the boy with complete and utter bewilderment and just sighed. He found it a bit difficult to say no to children. It was a really bad weakness that was exploited with the puppy eyes mercilessly.

They’re like locusts and multiply.

The first child grabbed another one, and another one, and before Harry knew it, there’s an entire group of children living with him.

“We can’t keep living off of bread and cheese,” Harry said with some shock, because he hadn’t realized how many children there were with him. “And oh Merlin, what are you all wearing?”

The first one gave him a look, being bolder and less afraid of him. “It’s better than sleeping cold.”

Because of course, everyone was sleeping by the fireplace. Why hadn’t he noticed? He knew he could get preoccupied inside his head, being in the past made it especially worse, but this was ridiculous. By his count, there were fifteen children around him, eagerly pressing into each other for warmth.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he groaned. “I know I can get distracted, but this is ridiculous.”

With a wave of his wand, he conjured them all some blankets. It would disappear in two hours but it was better than the rags everyone was wearing.

“Now, let’s fix this. Rooms, right,” he muttered. But I also need some wood.” He glanced out and smiled. “How convenient, there’s a forest right there.”

.

.

Harry worked with a lot of children scurrying around underfoot.

Magic may have made things easier, but it didn’t fix everything. He still had to chop up the wood with precise slicing spells, peel off the bark and then speed up the drying process. Afterwards, measuring and then covering everything in varnish.

All the while, the idea of dorm rooms entered his mind and he knew how he wanted things to look like. Because he might not have planned for children, but these children only had him.

Next, he enlarged the space as he worked.

It took immense focus but he knew that it could happen. Newt Scamander could fit an entire world inside his suitcase, Harry could fit entire dormitories behind his pantry.

“What are we going to do for beds?” Simon, the first child, asked him.

Harry pursed his lips in thought. “I can make beds, we have enough wood to make furniture for all those rooms. It will require cotton and cloth though.”

That was a thought. Harry needed cotton and cloth and they also needed more food than just bread and cheese. Harry…might have to buy some animals.

.

“What do we need?” Harry murmured, sitting on the floor and surrounded by a circle of children as they divided a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese. There was also a bowl of vegetable soup, one of the few things he could make without burning down the kitchen. It was a testament to how tired everyone was with the bread and cheese that the soup had absolutely no leftovers.

“Clothes,” Lina said, looking at her ratty old shirt. “A place to wash.”

“Food,” Simon piped in.

Harry could go to gardens and get some seedlings, no need to buy things. Some places even had wild vegetables and a good Point Me charm would solve that. He also needed clothes, bed sheets, mattresses and winter clothes - it was getting colder.

The animals though. He could buy them in the muggle world so it would be cheaper, but it would take some money, which he did not have.

“We need to brew,” he sighed. “Who knows how to chop?”

.

Harry took one week teaching the children different potion techniques.

Slicing, dicing, chopping and their differences were taught. He never realized children had such attention spans. They practiced on vegetables and Harry’s soup making skills were getting better and better.

“Okay, that’s sufficient. Now, we need potion ingredients and a good store to sell our potions afterwards,” he said.

The only store that would accept such shady practices (because you needed a license to brew, which Harry absolutely does not have) would be one in Knockturn Alley.

This time, he placed his foot down. “You’re all staying in the house. Where I’m going is not good for children.”

As one, they all rolled their eyes at him but did not argue.

.

It took more than a hundred potions before their funds could be sufficient and Harry gained a permanent wrinkle in his forehead from the stress. Being in charge of the health and well-being of more than a dozen little individuals was very stressful, especially if you were an unlicensed time-traveler.

Harry bought two pairs, a male and a female, for each animal. There were pigs, cows and chickens for their produce, which would help immensely for the food problem. He also bought sheep for their wool.

“Flax seeds,” he remarked, looking at his list. “I think I found the solution to the cloth problem.”

Flax seeds were unmagical and could be fast grown and fast harvested. Then, he figured out how to enchant a loom to weave it into bolts of cloth.

“It’s so pretty,” Katy said with awe. “But. Harry, isn’t it a bit boring, to be plain white?”

Harry looked at them all and was encountered with a dozen puppy eyes.

“…Dye’s. A lot of them,” he muttered reluctantly.

He pretended not to see the children exchanging a high-five behind him.

.

It would be so much easier, Harry realized halfway into transforming his house into a secret place for orphaned and neglected children, if he had someone to work with.

But given that what he was doing was breaking about a hundred laws, he really didn’t want to implicate someone with him.

His kitchen was already a teeming mess of food and soup was always bubbling in the stove, somehow never boiling over and also never running out, no matter how many children ladled out bowls.

His pantry was always expanding, meat and eggs somehow multiplying without his knowledge. And milk was never running out.

His vegetable garden never seemed to run out of produce either, carrots, beans and potatoes always popping out of the ground whenever he needed some.

His cloth room, formerly just housing one lonely loom and one lonely dye area, was having three stations and continually making more bolts of cloth than he knew what to deal with.

Even the Potion’s area was expanding, somehow having fifteen working stations and ten rows of potions cupboards organized alphabetically.

Something was always going on and he was permanently frowning with worry.

Children weren’t supposed to learn how to brew advanced high grade potions at the age of eight, nor were they supposed to know how to cook, clean, do laundry or tend to plants.

But the children he had gotten were all mature beyond their years, scars marking them from the very people who were supposed to love them unconditionally. And they all loved Harry and knew he was doing his best to give them a home.

.

Harry eventually realized by the time he had fifty children that he needed to set an age limit.

Because if he didn’t, none of the children would ever really leave and then he would be stuck with a hundred of them. He loved them and he knew that the Sanctuary was supposed to be a place to have a childhood.

So he started setting up apprenticeships.

Simon, a budding arithmancer, got an apprenticeship to a wardmaster. Lina with her sewing skills was apprenticed to Madame Malkin. Jessica, the sweet child, was apprenticed to a librarian until she realized what she wanted.

All of the children needed help and he set out and found them work and different houses. And all of them realized this and quietly packed their bags and left.

Harry still kept in contact with them via owls and the occasional visit. And he missed them even if there were always new children coming to him. But he never mourned. Because it was at this time that he started noticing something.

The Sanctuary was starting to gain sentience.

It made some sense, given that once an object was in magical presence long enough and loved enough, they tended to gain a personality.

The Sanctuary had housed a lot of children and all of them loved it in their own way. And all of those children had been magical.

By the time he realized what was harvesting the garden, cleaning the house, unclogging the toilets and keeping the kitchen stocked, he had gone through three generations and there was an unofficial network of people that apprenticed his children without his prompting. People he remembered, children he remembered, all of them growing old, but…he remained the same.

“Circe’s wand, what have I created?” he murmured.

.

A singularity. He had created a singularity because the children needed him.

Hogwarts, while just as loved, was not a singularity but a nexus. It didn’t exist beyond time like the Sanctuary, but it had a draw to it that made it attractive to everyone. His Sanctuary, on the other hand, existed only to those who needed it.

Harry knew that if he spent decades away from the Sanctuary, he would start to age. The children were immune, the Sanctuary didn’t own them in the way it owned Harry. His blood and his magic went into the house. The children were only guests.

He had accidentally bound himself to a singularity and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

.

Harry started to have no concept of time.

Oh, he knew the days were passing, and he knew what month it was. But the years passing by he viewed them as just any other day.

He didn’t really need to keep track of holidays, the house decorated itself and nudged him to remember. He only really remembered about the start of term, because all those children needed him for book shopping. Two months before the start of term, he would start a frenzy of brewing just to be able to afford everything.

Thank Merlin that Wizarding Currency hasn’t changed since the Goblin Wars.

All the children that passed, he remembered. The memories might be blurry, but he knew all of them. He kept memory strands for each child, in case his memory ever faltered.

And then Tom Riddle requested Sanctuary and Harry became acutely aware of the passing of time.

Cute, teenage dark lords with wounded, angry eyes and a desperate need for praise.

Cute, teenage dark lords, who looked at the Sanctuary and seemed not to understand the age limit.

Cute, teenage dark lords, who wanted to stay forever.

Harry would bang his head on the wall if the House would allow it.

.

When he’d accidentally travelled back in time, he had a plan.

Buy a house, keep quiet and don’t make any trouble.

Looking up at the deceptively small house, he knew that plan was thrown out the window since the first child looked up at him and tugged at his cloak.

“Harry!” called a young, high voice. “Harry, I already rang the dinner bell, didn’t you hear?”

“I’m coming!” he yelled back, pausing briefly to pluck an apple tree that he’s sure he did not plant there.

The Sanctuary was sentient and it had absolutely no qualms in growing how it wanted, asking no input from Harry.

This was not in his plans, but he had no complaints.

[geminiwritten]

i like you more ; draco malfoy

fandom: hp

pairing: draco x reader

summary: you’ve been ‘seeing’ blaise (and draco isn’t too happy about it) but you’re a little distracted by someone else and it turns out blaise is gross, so draco swoops (much to your delight)

notes: my first fic! sorry if it sucks, i’m a bit out of practice, but let me know what you think!

word count: 3285 (i’m sorry)

This morning truly wasn’t unfolding in your favour. You’d slept in, you had no clean tights, your dormmate’s overweight cat, Muffin, had shredded your Potions homework, and your shoelace had dared to trip you as you scrambled out of the dungeons with only a sliver of hope that you hadn’t missed breakfast.

Though of course, you had missed it, and your rumbling stomach decided to protest about it for the whole first half of the day. Which was exactly why Hermione couldn’t concentrate on the wriggly vine in front of her that she was supposed to be letting suckle on an unusually small bottle of grey milk that definitely hadn’t come from a cow.

“Are you alright?” she asked, earning a stern glare from Professor Sprout as she tried to seize the spindly vine between her fingertips.

“Yeah,” you replied, “Sorry, I slept in and it’s been a rough morning.”

She handed you the tiny bottle of milk, silently asking you to try feeding the arrogant little plant while she scribbled a quick diagram of it onto a piece of parchment.

“Were you up all night with Blaise, huh?” she teased, smirking up at you from beneath her long lashes.

Your cheeks flushed, “No, why on Earth would you think that?”

Hermione giggled, “Apparently the two of you are a real thing now.”

The little green plant finally began suckling on the tip of the milk bottle, to which Professor Sprout offered you a commending smile.

“We are not a thing,” you said, eyes flickering toward the boy in question sitting at the other side of the greenhouse, “We’ve only been on two dates, and I’m not even sure if like him like that.”

“Well, you better tell him that,” she nudged her head in Blaise’s direction, “Because he’s been telling everyone that you’re going to the Yule Ball together.”

“Excuse me?” this time, you weren’t even the slightest bit subtle about shooting a look his way, “He hasn’t even asked me!”

Hermione did the best to stifle her laughter in the shoulder of her robe as Professor Sprout called the class to an end. A few seventh-year students filtered through the greenhouse to take the plants away and remove the equipment while everyone else scattered off toward their respective next classes.

“Hey gorgeous,” Blaise greeted, falling into step beside you on your way to Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione staggered her steps and waited until she could start walking with Cho.

You kept your eyes glued to the ground, “Blaise.”

“Do you fancy roses by any chance?” he produced a blood red rose from behind his back, “Because I nicked this one from Sprout’s desk, just for you.”

The bud of the flower looked fairly normal, but the stem was abnormally thick and dark with what looked like blisters in the place of thorns. “That’s a Blooming Akhlys; those bubbles contain poisonous gas and if you inhale enough of it, you die.”

Blaise shrieked and dropped the flower, “Gross!”

You stopped short and rolled your eyes, gathering the hem of your robe to carefully retrieve the flower, “You can’t just leave it here.”

Before he could speak, you turned sharply and hurried back toward the greenhouses. Professor Sprout was relieved to see it returned, and more than a little embarrassed about leaving it unattended on her desk. She wrote you a short letter to pardon your tardiness to your next class and sent it fluttering in the form of a small bird toward Hagrid’s hut.

You set off once again across the grassy grounds, watching your scuffed shoes one after the other until a second pair appeared beside them. You startled a little, looking up to find familiar grey eyes above a cheeky smile, “Far out, Draco, don’t sneak up on people like that.”

He chuckled, “I wasn’t sneaking, you just happen to be particularly imperceptive.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why are you late for class, anyway?”

“Flitwick kept me back,” he replied, “Just wanted to congratulate me on being the most incredible student he’s ever had.”

His grin was making you blush, so you turned your attention back to your feet as you scoffed, “You’re so full of it, Draco.”

He definitely didn’t miss the rosy colour that blossomed in your cheeks, and he felt pretty proud that it was his doing, “Maybe so, but you-”

“Y/N!” Blaise’s holler echoed from further down the hill, interrupting Draco and dissolving his once charming smirk into a disgusted sneer. “I guess I’ll see you later then,” He muttered, and before you could respond his long legs picked up their pace and left you behind.

Blaise was oblivious to the look that Draco gave him as he brushed past, but you still noticed it. “Hey,” you said, “What are you doing? You’ll be late for class.”

Blaise shrugged, “Worth it if I get to spend a little extra time with you.”

He offered his hand, at which you stared with confusion before realising that it was for you to hold. You tried to hide your surprise as you met it with your own, shuddering at the feeling of his sweaty palm.

Through the trees and into a small clearing, Hagrid was organising the class into small groups for the first project of the term. He turned to you and grinned, waving Professor Sprout’s note in the air before turning to Blaise, “An’ why might you be late, Mr. Zabini?”

It was odd to hear Hagrid speak with the slightest bit of formality.

“I was with Y/N.”

Hagrid’s brows rose, “Not accordin’ to Professor Sprout’s letter.”

Blaise looked at you with pleading eyes, and though a part of you really didn’t want to save his ass, you spoke up, “Sorry, Hagrid, Blaise had waited outside the greenhouse just to make sure I got to class okay.”

Hagrid looked between you and Blaise, his gaze falling on your interlocked hands before sighing, “Alrigh’ then, you two can join Mr. Malfoy and Miss. Parkinson.”

Your stomach sank so low you worried for a moment if it was going to fall out of your arse.

Draco was half-sitting on a huge boulder, his long arms wrapped around the furry textbook that was nestled against his chest. His green tie was loose and lopsided, allowing for a few extra shirt buttons to be undone and exposing his milky-white skin beneath. How the hell did this boy manage to constantly look like an off-duty model?

The intrusion of ghastly pink nail polish in the perfect picture that was Draco Malfoy brought your reverie to a bitter end. Pansy was huddled beside him, talking no less than a hundred miles an hour while toying flirtatiously with the lapel of his robe. With the other hand, she twirled a piece of mousy brown hair and as soon as you met her gaze, she winked.

“Well, isn’t this lucky?” Blaise spoke first, “Not often that we get grouped with everyone from the same house.”

Draco’s eyes were trained on the ground, remaining there even as Pansy moved close enough to nearly bump him off the boulder, “How exciting!”

“Great,” you said, trying to force a smile through your half-assed tone of enthusiasm.

Just as Hagrid called the class to order, Draco peered up from beneath his lashes. His eyes were soft, and you could have sworn his pink lips were pouting. You wanted to ask what was wrong but before you could, Crabbe and Goyle appeared and Draco morphed back into his usual, cocky persona.

Hagrid started excitedly explaining the aim of the group projects while the class found various rocks and trees to lean against. Around the border of the clearing was a short brick wall, on which you took a seat seconds before Draco, who decided to sit unnecessarily close. Blaise quickly occupied your other side and slung an arm around your waist. It made you stiffen, and you felt a little uncomfortable but as you put your hand down to grip the edge of the brick wall, your pinkie met another’s. Warm tingles wriggled from your little finger up your arm, lighting a warm fire on that side of your body.

You kept your hand there for the rest of the class, and to your surprise, so did Draco.

“So,” Blaise said as you began your walk back to the castle, “The Yule Ball?”

You shrugged, “What about it?”

“We’ll go together, yeah?” he didn’t seem nervous in the slightest, which kind of annoyed you.

“Is that you asking me to go with you, Blaise?”

He chuckled, “Well, obviously.”

A part of your heart ached as you replied, “Then I suppose I’ll say yes.”

“I knew you would,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You wanted to pull away but you couldn’t bring yourself to embarrass him like that. “What do you say we go back to my dorm to celebrate, hm?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise this time, “W-What do you mean?”

“You know,” he smirked, “Practice the kind of dancing we’re going to be doing after the ball.”

Your stomach lurched and you were suddenly glad that you hadn’t had breakfast, “Um, sorry Blaise but I have to get some study done before afternoon classes.”

As you hurried away you couldn’t have cared less about what Blaise might’ve felt from your rejection. You had no idea that he was so disgusting and pushy; he’d always seemed like a good enough gentleman until now.

Once inside the castle you swept through the Great Hall to get some food before setting course for the library. You knew you could find a friend in there to help you study and you figured that it would be the least likely place for Blaise to go.

Sure enough, Hermione was nestled at a table beneath one of the tall windows. “Hey,” you said, setting your books down.

“Hey,” she perked up as soon as she saw you, “I heard Blaise finally asked you to the ball.”

You sat down and sighed, “I guess you could say that.”

“Oh, no,” she shut her book, “What happened?”

You vaguely explained what went down on the walk back from Care of Magical Creatures and watched as her face slowly morphed into an expression of disgust.

“Oh, what a vile little git!” she hissed, dampening her angry voice for the sake of the library, “How dare he even suggest something like that, you’ve hardly been on any real dates let alone decided if you even want to be a couple!”

Tears threatened to fall, but you blinked them back and chalked the emotion up to how exhausting your morning had been. “I don’t know,” you toyed with cap of Hermione’s ink pot, “I want to like him, but something just doesn’t feel right.”

Something being Draco, of course.

“It’ll be okay,” she said as she packed her things back into her bookbag, “Just remember who you are and don’t let anyone tell you what decisions to make.”

Her smile was warm and for the second time that day, you felt comfort overwhelm the uneasiness that Blaise had bled into your body. “Thanks, ‘mione.”

She bid you goodbye to go meet Harry and Ron for lunch, so you opened your Herbology textbook and started idly flipping through pages.

For some reason – though you knew exactly what reason, you just chose to ignore it – you couldn’t get Draco’s soft, grey eyes out of your head. You’d always been good friends with him, not too close but definitely more than acquaintances, and you’d always had a crush on him, but recently it’s felt different.

About a month ago when Blaise first asked you out, you were ecstatic. Your crush on Draco started to dwindle and you found a new hope for love in the form of Blaise’s plentiful compliments and warm brown eyes. Though it all started feeling strange when Draco seemed to vanish from your day-to-day life. It hurt, actually; you never wanted to lose him, and he was still an important person in your life, but week by week he floated further away. You’d hardly seen him until he surprised you today outside of the greenhouses.

“Seat taken?” a familiar voice asked, startling you.

The devil himself stood beside you, grey eyes on full effect with the usual smirk quirking the corner of his pink lips.

“Um, no, y-you can sit,” you wanted to kick yourself as you tripped over your own words, hearing him chuckle softly as he took the seat.

He opened his Herbology textbook and laid out a fresh piece of parchment, “So- uh, I heard that you’re going with Blaise to the Yule Ball.”

Once again, your stomach sank, “Um, yeah, I am.”

“You don’t sound too excited about it?” the little crease between his brows was almost laughably adorable.

“Oh, I am, but you know,” you shrugged, “Blaise doesn’t want to make it a big deal.”

Draco had to suppress his smile, because he knew you weren’t excited about going with Blaise and that gave him an inkling of hope. “Oh, okay, that makes sense.”

A beat of silence swept over the two of you before you spoke again, “Who are you going with?”

“Where?”

“The ball?”

His heart skipped, “Um, I haven’t asked anyone yet.”

“Oh,” you were rather happy with that response, because you knew that the alternative answer would have enraged the green-eyed monster that lived in your belly.

An easy silence settled once again, only interrupted by the intermittent scratching of quill on paper or the turn of a page.

Slowly, Draco let his legs relax and the one closest to you bumped your bare knee. “What happened to your uniform today, hm?” he teased.

You blushed, “I didn’t have any clean tights.”

“And what about your tie?”

You gasped, fearing you’d forgotten it until you felt the silky material beneath your fingertips. You frowned, “I didn’t forget it.”

“No,” he chuckled, “But you clearly don’t know how to tie it properly.”

“You ought to talk,” you scoffed.

He rolled his eyes as he swivelled sideways in his seat, leaning dangerously close and bringing his slender fingers up to the lazy knot at your collarbone. Your breath hitched and got stuck in your throat, making a soft noise that brought a cheeky grin to his lips.

He wasn’t close enough, though. The smell of peppermint and fresh linen numbed your senses; you could feel yourself falling toward him but didn’t have the strength to stop. His fingers worked effortlessly on the tie around your neck despite his eyes staying locked on yours, hope filling them as he let his gaze stray toward your lips.

The unexpected sound of a book falling on the floor scared the both of you, making you jump apart and turn toward the aisle of books on the far side of the window. Then you heard a giggle and a grunt.

“What the hell?” Draco stood and strode over to see the other side of the stack, though he regretted it almost instantly.

You followed him, “What is- Oh.”

Between the bookshelves was a pair of dishevelled Slytherins. Blaise was struggling to pull his trousers back up to his hips while Pansy didn’t seem too concerned about her open blouse that exposed her lacy bra to the whole library.

“Y/N, I-”

“Um, no,” you raised your hand to silence him, “I don’t really care about an explanation.”

“But, Y/N, I swear-”

“Blaise,” you stepped back as he stepped forward, “I really don’t give a fuck.”

Draco snickered and Pansy looked utterly offended, finally deciding to button her shirt up. You turned sharply and grabbed the sleeve of Draco’s robe, tugging him alongside you as you left the stacks and hurriedly collected your belongings from the table. Once you slung your bookbag over your shoulder, the two of you left the library.

You sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief, “I honestly thought that the last place I would run into Blaise would be the library.”

Draco chuckled softly, “He frequents it more than you’d think.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “That was really insensitive.”

“You definitely don’t have to be sorry, Draco,” you stopped at the top of the stairs that led down toward the dungeons, “I didn’t really like him anyway.”

Draco stopped only a step lower than you, making him just about the same height, “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a jerk.”

Draco chuckled, “More than a bit.”

“Do you think Hagrid will let us change groups for our Care of Magical Creatures project?” you wondered aloud.

“I bloody hope so,” Draco mumbled.

A short moment of silence washed over you before you spoke again, “So,” you tugged on your half-knotted tie, “Would you mind fixing this before class, because I’ve already lost my homework and I don’t want to give Snape another reason to give me detention.”

The corridors were just about empty. Most students were still at lunch or studying for the remainder of the midday break; it was just you and Draco.

“Oh, of course,” he dropped his bookbag by his foot and started untangling your tie.

Once again he was close enough to completely overwhelm your senses, and you simply couldn’t stop yourself from speaking, “Hey Draco, since I don’t have a date and you don’t have a date, do you want to go to the Yule Ball alone together?”

Shades of pink flooded his pale cheeks, “Alone together?”

His eyes were focused on your tie while yours watched his tongue dart across his bottom lip. You swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah, alone together.”

Finally, he looked up, “Well, why don’t we just go together?”

Your heart skipped and you could feel the heat rushing from your neck to the tips of your ears. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Did Draco Malfoy just ask me out?”

He nodded, revelling in the soft sound of your laughter, “Is that a yes?”

“Definitely.”

Tightening his grip on the knot he’d just created, he pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. Warmth and electricity spread through you, making your legs so numb you were worried you’d collapse, but all too soon, he pulled away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, chuckling quietly to himself.

You rolled your eyes, “Trust me, I do.”

He couldn’t help feeling giddy when you pecked his lips again. You laced your fingers with his and began moving down the stairs, but he tugged on your arm to stop you. “What if we don’t go to Potions?”

“Why?” you frowned.

“I’m just thinking, since you don’t have your homework and I would much rather not have this moment ruined by Snape, maybe we could just… go for a walk?”

“A walk?” you echoed, “Draco, there are many things I would rather be doing instead of Potions class, but a walk is hardly near the top of that list.”

“There’s a list?” he asked, smirking.

You nodded, “And it’s very long, so we’d better get started.”

The two of you began walking away from the dungeons. “Should we start with number one, then?” he offered.

“Hm, maybe not,” you replied, “I think we should save number one for a special night when no one will bother us.”

The red in your cheeks was enough to give your thoughts away, and Draco was almost embarrassed about how fast his heart began to race.

“I like that idea,” he said, pulling you closer and planting a kiss on your forehead.

You giggled, “I like you.”

“I like you more.”

END.

[nautiscarader]

billythesquid writes: How about Finn and Huntress Wizard for Snowed In? They're on a mission to the Ice Kingdom, there's an avalanche, and oh no! They've got to get warm fast.

(Ao3)

Also, if you enjoyed my work, here's Ko-fi link if you'd be so kind ❤️ .

=============

- That's not how you summon a trasheratrops.

Huntress Wizard chuckled and scolded Finn after he let out a prolonged, grumbling moan that echoed around the snowy canyon they have been travelling in.

- Really? it worked last time... - Here, let me show you.

Huntress stopped and produced her magical flute. Though the night air in the Ice Kingdom was predictably freezing, she took a deep breath and blew into her instrument, producing a melodious, yet deep sound that, if they were in a different part of Ooo, could attract a whole herd of mythical beasts she was talking about.

When she opened her eyes, she noticed a deep, crimson blush on Finn's cheeks. Despite their lengthy trek to Ice Kingdom, it wasn't because of the cold, though. If there was one thing that never failed Finn to reignite his love for Huntress Wizard, it was her music talent that properly mesmerised him, as if he was the animals she was taming.

- Ooh, let me try.

Finn took out his flute and joined Huntress Wizard. He was less skilled than her, but as their music continued, the two started harmonising, creating a music that soon diverted from their original intent. Huntress and Finn looked at each other, as they became more and more entranced by their performance, walking up the snowy mountain. And for a long, glorious moment, the two forgot about their mission, and the rest of the world...

But the world reminded them of itself with a thunderous, low, rumbling sound, akin to a horde of trasheratropsi running down the mountain. A cloud of white snow erupted high above them, but in a blink of an eye it travelled several dozen feet, forcing the two to evacuate.

- Avalanche!

Finn screamed, but Huntress was quicker. She grabbed him with the talons of a hawk she transformed into, taking them from the main path of the avalanche. But she miscalculated how wide the wave of snow was after them, forcing her tu turn sharply towards a mountainous range that arose in front of them. Just before she thought they would crash into the rocks, Finn pointed to a small crevasse, and with a sharp turn, Huntress flew into it, just before the walls roared when the avalanche missed them by just a few feet.

The two tumbled on the solid ice, until Finn reached to his detransformed girlfriend.

- H-Dubs! Are you okay?! - I'm... fine, Finn.

Huntress spoke, though she pointed out to the narrow entrance that now was completely cut off by a wall of snow. The teo looked around the icy room, illuminated just by a faint crack in the ceiling, too small for neither of them to slip through, at least not without getting torn to shreds by icicles.

- Well, at least we're not gonna suffocate...

Finn spoke, examining the thick, icy walls that surrounded them. He tried making a dent in them, first with his bare, metal arm, and then his sword, but up to no avail. And by the looks of it, the fresh snow that chased them has started forming another impenetrable wall as well.

- Looks like we might have to spend a night here.

He expected to hear from his girlfriend, but when he turned around, all he could see was her, curled up next to his backpack, unmoving.

- HW!

Finn rushed to her, closing his arms around her, feeling her body shivering from cold. Of course, she was part-plant, Finn thought. At once he got rid of his coat, and threw the contents of his backpack on the ground. The bed was one thing, and it would insulate her from the floor, but at this rate, they won't last long.  

He heard her teeth chattering, as he looked through the things that could help them. Huntress closed her eyes, listening to Finn's rambling about fire. And then, she heard a sound of metal sliding against metal, and something bright reached her vision, and when she opened her eyes, she Finn holding a torch in his hand.

- H-How...?

And then she noticed. It was his flute.

- Well, it got us in trouble in the first place, didn't it?

Finn looked around to see what else could he use, but Huntress was faster.

- Here, let me help you...

Despite the cold, she stuck out her arm and shook it, letting many, many leaves fall to the icy ground.

- We need some kindling.

Reluctantly, Finn gathered the leaves and set them on fire, separating the small campfire from the ice with rocks. It took him quite a while, but after a few minutes, the fire was burning with enough heat to give them just a shred of hope of surviving.

Him, at least.

Huntress was still shivering, despite the double layer of insulation and the warmth of her boyfriend cuddling up next to her. The two formed a tight cocoon sharing the heat of their bodies, and with that, her state improved marginally, especially when Finn offered her a bit of candy liquor.

- Thanks, Finn... - No worries, H-Dubs, we're gonna get through it. - I hope so, Finn...

She closed her arms and legs around him, letting their bodies share the necessary closeness. But as long minutes went by, Huntress started considering another option.

- Finn... there is one way we can share our heat. - How? I don;t think we can get any closer, I'm practically inside you.

Huntress smiled at him.

- Oh. - We can become one, Finn. That is magic powerful enough to keep us alive. - Woah, H-Dubs, I mean... you know what happens when dudes enter cold bath, though, right? - Don't worry. You gave me enough heat, it;'s time for me to repay you.

She leaned forward, or as forward as she could, being almost face-to-face with him and kissed him, while her arms sneaked between their pressed bodies and into his trousers. She was already straddling him, so with one more clumsy move, she lifted her pantaloons. And if Finn had any worries about her hands closing around his cock, then the few droplets of liquid heat dripping from her sex brought him back to full flory, as if they were in his treehouse.

Huntress made one forceful push and let out a prolonged moan when his hot rod sneaked between her folds, already bringing her the energy she so desperately needed. Their arms curled around each other, as their savoured their intimate connection, and when their kiss broke, Huntress smiled and began moving her hips up and down.

Clouds of air erupted from Finn's mouth as short gasps, but he quickly redirected them in between their bodies, to bring save much needed warmth, though with Huntress' moves, the friction between them was doing enough already. But Finn knew it wasn't just silly physics. There was magic in action, he could see it in her eyes and her body wriggling and twisting around him, and when he began movig his hips, the spell was complete.

The two forgot about coldness that surrounded them, and the potential lethal consequences of their trip. they forgot about their obligations as well, as they continued to rock against each other, letting their love generate more energy than any battle could have ever done.

But they both knew that there was one crucial element they were both withholding with each long minute of their carnal dance, and Huntress, as usual, was the one to verbalise it.

- Finn, we need to come together. I-I will coat you with my warm sap..

Huntress spoke in short, needy sentences, that roared in Finn's mind despite her whispering.

- But I want you to set me on fire... I need your flame inside me... In my loins, my sex...

She leaned against his shoulder.

- In my womb...

Something about that last word struck a chord in Finn's brain. The way she accented it, the way she spoke of it as something vital and imperative, speaking to a very primal part of Finn's brain. The next moment, he felt Huntress Wizard shuddering atop him, and that, in turn, brought him to his edge.

Hoping his metal arm won't cause any harm, Finn tightened his grip on her back, and with a mighty, yet still slightly girly roar, his body jerked, and with Huntress' walls squeezing on him, he spilled himself inside her, shooting stream after stream of his own brand of warmth up her sex, right where she wanted it.

For a moment he wasn't sure if Huntress was speaking metaphorically, or if her wooden, leafy body really would be set aflame - from the way she moaned and arched her back, it would have certainly seemed so. But she was okay,  riding him, letting the pleasure consume her, until every drop of his warmth was safely inside her. When she ran out of energy as well, she collapsed onto him, though, from the feeling of it, her sex was still closing around him erratically. Finn listened to soft chirping Wizard has been producing with each drop of seed she milked him of and with each layer of sap she coated his cock and balls with.

- H-Dubs, you-you are still shivering... - Finn spoke amidst his own, bliss-hazed mind - It's-it's Fine, Finn. - Huntress spoke, reaching for his lips. - And so are you.

Every nerve of her body reacted to the intimacy and closeness they shared, and part of her wanted to disrobe completely, but she knew better this was just a false sensation. Instead she buried herself deeper in the cocoon of clothes, feeling droplets of sweat on her forehead. And with Finn's heartbeat next to hers, she closed her eyes and whispered her final plea.

- Don't go, Finn. I want to be with you like that forever... - Uh yeah, but, uh, I gotta... - Oh.

For an agonisingly long split of second, the two lovers had to part, so Finn could go the furthest corner of the cave and do his thing, hoping that he won't freeze while doing it. And when he returned, he was met with the sight of Huntress wizard with her legs spread invitingly, and her hand over her used sex, keeping her folds shut.

- I don't want a single drop of it wasted.

Finn sat in his place and let his cock slip inside her again and seal his seed inside her, especially as with his strength and stamina regained, he slowly became hard again. Their eyes met, and the two shared a nod, before their bodies began rubbing against each other for a second time.

- Are we-we gonna do it all night? - Finn asked, seeing her lips curling into a wide smile - I wouldn't mind...

And the two pushed their bodies to the limit, becoming one time after time, after they both fell asleep in each other's arms, unsure if they would ever wake up again.

When the morning arrived, Finn opened his slightly frosted eyelids only to Find Huntress cuddled against him, lightly snoring. His first sensation was that of overwhelming warmth that connected and joined them after countless rounds of short, but passionate love-making that kept them alive. A wide, satisfied smile was plastered on her face, and when she felt his sudden moves, she woke up too, happy to find them both well.

- Morning, Finn. - Morning, HW. - Morning, you guys.

At once, Finn and Huntress wizard jumped in place, as the third, croaky voice reached them. Lost in themselves, they only now became aware of Ice King sitting around their campfire, now fuelled by a bunch of paper wrappers, trying to roast a marshmallow over it. Finn instinctively pulled out a sword and aimed it at his old adversary.

- Ice King! What the flip are you doing here? - I just wanted you guys to know that I found my keys. - Wait, how did you find *us*?! - I didn't, I was trying to shuffle back my snow that you guys have dragged from up my mountain! And that's where my keys were all this time, so my bad.  

He reached into his pocket and jangled a key ring.

- So, yeah, I no longer need you.

Finn and Huntress Wizard blinked.

- Wait, you needed us to... find your keys? That's why you called for us?! - Well you promised "All heroic deeds" in your ad. - Ice King shrugged - Oh, and I see you don't have Jake with you... Tell him he still owes me money from the last card game.

Ice king stood up and waddled nonchalantly towards the exit, now unblocked, leaving Finn and Huntress Wizard utterly dumbfounded.

- Did we almost freeze to death for that? - Uh, I think so. - Finn replied - Oh, hey, he left marshmallows.

Finn untangled himself from his girlfriend and reached for the snacks, while Huntress tried to comprehend the situation. If it wasn't for Finn, she'd seriously considered quitting the "Hero for hire" job.

A few minutes later, the two were packed and began journey back to Candy Kingdom, and just like yesterday, the two talked and joked all the way. But while the air was still chilly, Huntress Wizard wasn't feeling it at all. Just like she asked him to, Finn has ignited a spark inside her, one that would soon turn into a wildfire and keep her warm for months to come.

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Constellations - Geralt/Jaskier [G - Injury]

Gif isn’t mine. 

Originally posted to my AO3 account. 

It’s never anything more than a scratch.

Well, no. It’s always more than a scratch to him, he supposes.

Geralt has a map of scars littering his skin that are reminders of old injuries. Most of them are faded pale lines against his skin; but the worst of them, thicker, jagged lines stretching over his stomach and heart, are from times where danced a bit too close to death.

But in the time where Jaskier has been with him, he has never gotten so much as, as Geralt puts it, “a scratch”. Even in the aftermath of griffin and bruxa fights, when Geralt comes back to their camp or to their shared room in an inn, he shrugs off Jaskier’s fidgeting hands. “I’ll live, bard,” he grunts, padding over to the other side of the room to do whatever it is that needs doing to stop the bleeding.

Jaskier will always care. When love started to kindle between them, breathing became that bit harder when Geralt wouldn’t return when he said he would. Even if the Witcher was late by a couple of minutes, Jaskier paced so often that the soles of his boots threatened to wear away.

But Geralt always came back: carrying a limp or holding his side, fingers smudged with dirt and blood. But he always came back.

This is different.

He returned from a hunt, stumbling into their rented inn room, eyes still blackened and dark tendrils spreading out over his pale skin, a red stain across one side of his chest. Jaskier barely had time to speak the Witcher’s name before he crumpled to the ground with a pained grunt.

The town is large enough to have several healers making their businesses in it – but only one of them actually comes to help. No one bothers with Witchers, no matter what good they do for those living on the land. It’s something Jaskier has come to know. The people glowering and sneering at Geralt as he walks through villages and towns won’t lift a finger to help him if he ever did ask for it. The innkeep was a kind woman, offering them a good room and better food if the Witcher dealt with a bruxa problem in the forest nearby, scaring away all of her produce suppliers. Geralt took the contract – because of course he did, they were being offered a room and food after a long journey of having neither.

Jaskier can only presume it was her who ran to every healer’s apothecary within the town. He barely had Geralt settled on the bed when the healer steps into the room; and a long breath rushes out of Jaskier. He thanks every god he can remember the name of as the woman sets her leather work-bag on the foot of the bed. She fishes out fistfuls of clean, white rags and sets them to the side; along with glass vials of ointments and potions.

Jaskier sets his hand on Geralt’s forehead. It’s damp with sweat, and his skin is almost scalding. Jaskier clicks his tongue. “You’ll be alright, my love,” he says gently, wincing at how Geralt’s face scrunches up at another bout of pain shaking through him. The black tendrils that sit where his veins would are starting to ebb away. And once his potion’s effects are gone, searing pain will replace it.

“Do you know how to clean a wound, bard?” the woman says, already handing him some cloth and a vial of reddish liquid.

Jaskier swallows and nods. He’s spent sun-turns following this damn man. Of course he knows what to do with wounds.

It’s just the initial panic that flashes through his body that he can’t quite get rid of yet. In fact, if he’s being totally honest, he thinks it’s getting worse.

He manages to get Geralt’s loose shirt off – a chunk of it having been torn by whatever it was that he was hunting. It’ll be mended in the morning, but as soon as Jaskier tosses the piece of clothing aside, he has to swallow at what he sees.

It’s deep. Jaskier sets his fingers around the wound. It’s a gash spreading across Geralt’s pectoral. It’s so deep he worries that Geralt’s own heart and lungs might burst out. Blood gushes out of it, staining his hands and pooling underneath his fingernails.

Jaskier fiddles with the vials and cloth. A harsh smell of something metallic covers the roof of his mouth. “This is going to hurt, Geralt,” he says softly, pressing the cloth over the worst of the cut. Geralt’s face pinches and his entire body goes stiff under Jaskier’s hands. “Shush now, I’m here,” Jaskier mumbles, lifting the cloth away. He switches it out for a clean one. Soaking that one with more of the red liquid, he sets about removing whatever dirt and grime he can see within the cut.

Geralt is as stiff as a stone slab beneath him. Jaskier’s eyes dart up to the Witcher’s face. His eyes are squeezed shut, hair splayed over the pillow. His skin is returning to its normal colour. Jaskier winces. “Do you have any poppy’s milk or valerian root?” he directs towards the end of the bed. “He’s in a lot of pain.”

A glass vial suddenly appears beside him. Jaskier looks at what’s inside; a white liquid speckled with black flecks. Poppy’s milk. Jaskier sets the cloths aside for a moment while he uncaps the vial. “Geralt,” he reaches out for the Witcher’s face. Red smears over Geralt’s cheek. “Geralt. Drink some of this. It’ll help.”

Yellow hooded eyes stare blearily back at him. Jaskier sets the vial against Geralt’s lip. He sighs in relief when a few drops of milk are swallowed. It’s strong stuff. He vaguely remembers the opium gardens of the academy being of particular interest to a few students. It never took long for them to fall under the plant’s effects. Geralt’s head grows heavy in his hands. He helps the Witcher lay back against the bed.

The woman moves around the room like a ghost. Jaskier is so focused on the job at hand, he doesn’t notice her grinding herbs with oils by the foot of the bed. He does sense her lean over his shoulder to inspect his work. There’s a soft hum of approval. “It’s deep, but the main problems are blood loss and infection. If we can manage those, he’ll be alright.”

He knows. He wants to snap. He knows.

Jaskier’s fingers curl into the pieces of the linen cloths. Gods above and below, he knows. She doesn’t have to keep saying these things.

Geralt is just as mortal as the rest of them. The gods can touch him. He can die. It takes a lot more of an effort on his assailant’s account, but he can. He’s danced too close to death before. Thankfully never in Jaskier’s presence. But it doesn’t stop the flood of fear that washes through his body every time Geralt stumbles back from a hunt, at the thought that one day, maybe soon or in a few years, Geralt might not come back to him.

Jaskier sucks in a breath. Stop it, he has to tell himself. There’s no point in worrying about any of that now. His fingers tremble as he cleans the worst of the wound, and he’s pretty sure that he hasn’t taken a steady breath since Geralt fell to the ground. But there’s no point in panicking.

He’s stitched Geralt back together before – in the areas along his back and shoulders where the Witcher can’t reach himself. He’s become quite good at it, if he were to say so. But with a wound this deep, bright red with streaks of what looks like muscle peering through, the healer gently nudges him aside. She’s already threaded a thin needle and seared the end with a candle’s flame.

Jaskier moves to the other side of the bed, gathering more cloth as he goes. Blood still trickles out of the wound. The only way to stop it is to knit the Witcher back together again.

He’s pale. The worst of the potions are fading from him. But his skin is still so pale that Jaskier sets his hand against it to feel for warmth. And Geralt is still scalding.

A tremor shakes his body. “It’s the potions, darling,” Jaskier says lowly, taking up a place by Geralt’s side. He soothes his hand along the unmarred side of the Witcher’s chest. “You’ve done it all before. It’s alright.”

When the last of the stitches are pulled tight together, Geralt has finally settled into a sleep. It probably won’t last long, and it’s more to do with the poppy’s milk than anything else. But Jaskier cards his fingers through the Witcher’s hair.

“The wound should heal nicely, but he lost a lot of blood,” the healer says, scrubbing her hands in a nearby basin. Red smudges reach her elbows. “He needs to rest.”

Jaskier hums. “He certainly won’t like that.” They were meant to be on their way to Kaer Morhen for the winter. The call of it had already whispered by Geralt’s ear. He’ll wake in the morning and, knowing him, will grunt out some excuse or other that they need to keep going. That the winds will turn and the roads will freeze over. But the summer has been kind to them this year. Even now, with crops being taken in and farm animals sheltered, the sun still warms the fields.

They have time. They can afford to stop for a moment; especially if it’s Jaskier heavily relying on Geralt to get him to Kaer Morhen in the first place. He can’t imagine he would be able to climb the damn mountain, let alone be let in the gates without the Witcher.

But Jaskier glances over his shoulder to the woman. It’s the first time he’s actually looked at her for more than a moment. “Thank you, my lady,” he breathes. He eyes the leather bag at her feet. “How much do I owe you for-?”

She shakes her head. “You owe me nothing, bard. A life saved is payment enough for me.”

He turns back to Geralt, lying motionless on the bed if not for the slow rise of his chest with every small breath he takes. He’s alive. A small sentence stated again and again in his head, repeating it to himself so that the more flighty and anxious side to him will just calm down and see reason.

She leaves him with more potions and ointments; valerian root for pain, arnica for the wound and bruising, tea tree for any infection that might come about. Jaskier places them on the small nightstand beside the bed, within an arm’s reach. As he locks their room door for the night and places another log of wood on the fire, he sighs. It’s the first proper breath he’s taken in what seems like hours.

Whatever had squeezed his chest begins to loosen.

He leaves most of his layers and his boots by the foot of the bed. Geralt’s tunic lies on the ground, still wet with blood. Jaskier stares at it for a moment. He’ll wash it in the morning, and see what he can do about that tear along the neckline.

Geralt’s bandages will need changing every hour. Though the Witcher’s heart is slower to beat than a normal man’s, blood still seeps through his dressings like water. Jaskier struggles to think what it would be like if Geralt were a normal man. He’d be dead, some part of his own mind tells him. No normal man would survive an attack like this.

He takes up by the Witcher’s side, sitting back against the headboard of the bed and pillowing Geralt’s head on his lap. Opium will keep him under for another few hours. The hearth’s fire threatens to burn out a few times, but Jaskier can’t bring himself to move away from the other man. He stares at the thing, wishing that the heat from his eyes alone would just make the fire come back to life.

Mumbled nonsense leaves Geralt’s lips. Jaskier can’t sleep, so he listens to it. Carding his fingers through Geralt’s hair, untangling and unknotting dried blood and dirt out of strands, he listens to whispers and mutterings of a girl in the woods, of a city falling, of the south coming north. He frowns. Setting the back of his hand against Geralt’s forehead, his frown only deepens when he finds no fever.

“What’s got you all bothered, hmm?” Jaskier mumbles, returning his fingers to Geralt’s hair. The Witcher doesn’t move; but his face does twitch every so often. A nightmare, maybe. Or a too-real dream. The poppy’s milk will keep him under for a few hours – but Jaskier has never seen its effects on a Witcher. Maybe he’ll doze off and wake to find Geralt stumbling around the room, muttering about a compromised arm and a ruined shirt. Maybe he’ll sleep long into the following afternoon. Jaskier has no idea.

The tavern quietens. Jaskier’s ears prick at the sound of patrons stumbling out on to the streets, calling their goodbyes back to the innkeep. He hears the door being bolted and the rest of the tenants going to their rooms. The floorboards outside squeak and groan with every footfall. Jaskier glances down at the Witcher. His face is lax and regular, slow breaths puff out from a slightly opened mouth. Warmth blooms in Jaskier’s chest. It isn’t often that he’s awake when Geralt isn’t. He falls asleep after Jaskier and wakes up before him. Seeing him like this now, he wants to commit it to memory.

At some point, he must fall asleep. His head falls forward and he jerks awake. Watery morning light streaks in through the window, the curtains still splayed open. A thrum of pain spreads across his lower back, but Jaskier eventually shuffles to lie down on the bed, facing Geralt and setting his hand against the Witcher’s chest. His fingers brush the bandages; a relieved sigh leaving him when he feels that it’s dry and not speckled with red.

The first sign he gets of Geralt surfacing is the slight increase in his heart rate. Jaskier feels it underneath his palm. It’s nothing that noticeable, but Jaskier recognises it from sleeping on Geralt’s chest for countless nights.

When yellow eyes open, blinking blearily, Jaskier has to swallow the lump clawing up his throat. “How are you?” he rasps. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

Geralt grunts. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, you’re so far from being fine,” Jaskier mutters, reaching for the vial of valerian root. He’s become adept at reading his Witcher. In the coming winter, he might compile a dictionary specifically for the damn brute. Some things mean other things in Witcher-speak. And an I’m Fine has hundreds of meanings.

Despite glaring at the vial in Jaskier’s hand, Geralt takes a small sip of the potion. It won’t be as fast-acting as the poppy’s milk, but it’ll do. Geralt sinks back into the mattress and pillows. His eyelids can barely stay open.

Jaskier’s fingers curl against his chest. “You need to rest,” he says. “The healer said you lost a lot of blood and that you need to rest – so I don’t want to hear anything about you being fine, or that your Witcher-y-ness will have you right as rain by the afternoon. We don’t need to be in Kaer Morhen for another few weeks. So you’re going to lie there, and sleep until you feel better. Do you hear me?”

At that, Geralt’s eyes open again. He settles the bard with an arched eyebrow. “I hear you,” he rasps.

Jaskier blinks. Tears sting the back of his eyes. “Good,” he says stiffly, pillowing his head on Geralt’s uninjured shoulder. “So, off to sleep with you.”

The arm beneath him moves. It’s slow and heavy, but eventually Geralt slings his uninjured arm over Jaskier’s shoulders, keeping the bard close to him. “Whatever you say, little lark."

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Why Does the Qur'an Not Discuss Scientific Issues That Concern Us Today?: Part 2

In another verse, the development is explained in greater detail, and the distinct phases are emphasized more clearly:

We created man from a quintessence (of clay). Then We placed him as (a drop of) sperm in a place of rest, firmly fixed. Then we made the sperm into a clot of congealed blood. Then of that clot We made a lump (embryo); then we made out of that lump bones and clothed the bones with flesh. Then We developed out of it a new (distinct, individual) creature (23:12–14)

And

He makes you in the wombs of your mothers in stages, one after another, in three veils of darkness ... (39:6)

These three veils of darkness can now be glossed in detail: the parametrium, miometrium, and the endometrium are three tissues enveloping three water-, heat-, and light-proof membranes (the amnion, corion and the wall of the womb).

• What the Qur'an says about milk and its production: And verily in cattle (too) will you find an instructive sign. From what is from their bodies, between excretions and blood, We produce, for your drink, milk, pure and agreeable to those who drink it (16:66).

The Qur'an narrates the process in remarkable detail: the partial digestion of food and its absorption, followed by a second process and refinement in the glands. Milk is wholesome and agreeable for people, yet it is a secretion rejected by the cow's body and bloodstream as useless.

• The Qur'an reveals that all things in nature are created in pairs: Glory be to God, who created in pairs all things, of what the soil produces, and of themselves, and of what they know not (36:36).

Thus everything has a counterpart, whether opposite to it or complementary. This is obvious in the case of people, animals, and certain plants. But, what about the pairs in all things … and of what they know not? This may refer to a whole range of inanimate as well as animate entities, subtle forces and principles of nature. Modern scientific instruments confirm that everything does occur in pairs.

• The Qur'an recounts, in its own unique idiom, the first creation of the world and its inhabitants: Do not the unbelievers see that the Heavens and the Earth were joined together (as a single mass), before We clove them asunder? We made from water every living thing. Will they not then believe? (21:30).

The Qur'anic account is clear and should not be mixed with the different creation hypotheses put forward by others. It states that every living thing was created of water. The Qur'an does not concern itself with how this unique source of life came into being, but with the fact that the universe is a single miracle of creation. Everything in it is an integral part of that miracle, bears signs that prove it, and is interconnected. The verse emphasizes the vitality and significance of water, which constitutes three-quarters of the mass of most living bodies.

• The sun has a special and significant place in creation. The Qur'an reveals its most important aspects in just four words: And the sun runs its course (mustaqarr) determined for it. That is His decree, the Exalted in Might, the All-Knowing (36:38).

In fact, mustaqarr here may mean a determined route in space, a fixed place of rest or dwelling, or a determined route in time. We are told that the sun has a specific orbit and that it moves toward a particular point in the universe. Our solar system, as we now know, is moving toward the constellation Lyra at an almost inconceivable speed (every second we come ten miles closer to that constellation, almost a million miles a day). We also are told that when the sun has finished its appointed task, it will abide by a command and come to rest.

Such words were spoken at a time when people generally believed that the sun made a daily circuit around the Earth.

• Another four-word inspiring and eloquent Qur'anic verse says that the universe is expanding: And the firmament: We constructed it with power and skill, and We are expanding it (51:47–48).

This verse reveals that the distance between celestial bodies is increasing, for the universe is expanding. In 1922, the astronomer Hubble claimed that all galaxies, except the five closest to Earth, are moving further into space at a speed directly proportional to their distance from Earth. Thus, a galaxy one million light years away is moving away at a speed of 168 km/year, one two million light years away at twice that speed, and so on. Le Maître, a Belgian mathematician and priest, later proposed and developed the theory that the universe is expanding. No matter how we express this reality, the Qur'an clearly presents the reality of this expansion.

• The Qur'an indicates various laws of physics, such as attraction and repulsion, rotation and revolution in the universe: God raised the heavens without any pillars that you can see... (13:2)

All celestial bodies move in order, balance, and harmony. They are held and supported in this order by pillars invisible to our eyes. Some of these "pillars" are repulsion or centrifugal force: ... He holds back the sky from falling on earth except by His leave... (22:65).

From this verse, we understand that the heavenly bodies may at any moment collapse on the Earth, but that the All-Mighty does not allow it. This is an instance of the universal obedience to His Word, which in the language of contemporary science is explained as a balance of centripetal and centrifugal forces.

• Qur'anic commentators have considered one verse as a reference to travelling to the moon, which is now a reality: By the moon's fullness! You shall surely travel from stage to stage (84:18–19).

Some earlier commentators understood this verse figuratively, as a reference to one's spiritual life considered as an ascent from one stage to the next, or as a general process of change from one state to another. Later on, Qur'anic interpreters tried to explain it in non-literal terms, for the literal meaning did not agree with what they "knew" about actually travelling such a distance. But in fact, the more appropriate sense of the words following the oath (By the moon!), given the verse's immediate context, is that of really travelling to the moon, whether literally or figuratively.

• The Qur'anic account of the Earth's geographical shape and change in that shape are particularly interesting: Do they not see how We gradually shrink the land from its outlying borders? Is it then they who will be victors? (21:44)

The reference to shrinking from its borders could relate to the now-known fact that the Earth is compressed at the poles, rather than to such earlier believed ideas as the erosion of mountains by wind and rain, of the sea-shores by the sea, or of the desert's encroachment of cultivated lands.

At a time when people generally believed that the Earth was flat and stationary, the Qur'an explicitly and implicitly revealed in several verses that it is round. More unexpectedly still, it tells us that its precise shape is more like an ostrich egg than a sphere: After that He shaped the earth like an egg, whence He caused to spring forth the water thereof, and the pasture thereof (79:30–32).

The Arabic verb daha means "to shape like an egg." The derived noun dahia is still used to mean "an egg." Some interpreters, who might have viewed it as contrary to what they "knew," misunderstood the meaning as "stretched out," perhaps fearing that the literal meaning might be difficult to understand and so mislead. Modern scientists have established that the Earth is shaped more like an egg than a perfect sphere, that there is a slight flattening around the poles, and a slight curving around the equator.

• As a final example, consider what the Qur'an says about the sun and the moon: We have made the night and the day as two signs; the sign of the night We have obscured, while the sign of the day We have made to enlighten you... (17:12)

According to Ibn 'Abbas, the sign of the night refers to the moon, and the sign of the day to the sun. Therefore, from the words the sign of the night We have obscured, we understand that the moon once emitted light and that God took its light from it, thereby causing it to darken or become obscured. While the verse thus accurately recounts the moon's past, it points to the future destiny of other heavenly bodies.

Many other Qur'anic verses are related to scientific facts. Their existence indicates that our quest for knowledge is a portion of Divine Mercy graciously bestowed upon us by our Creator. Indeed, Divine Mercy is one of the Qur'an's names for itself, and all that it contains of truth and knowledge is beyond our ability to relate or to hold in our minds.

We must remember, however, that while the Qur'an contains allusions to many scientific truths, it is not a science textbook. It is a book of guidance leading humanity to right belief and right action so that we may be worthy of Divine Mercy and Forgiveness. Muslims must ensure that the pursuit of scientific and other types of knowledge is guided by the light of the Qur'an, which so encourages and supports it, and not by the spirit of arrogance, insolence, and vainglory. The latter path, that of unbelievers, leads only to the mind's desolation, our own degradation and that of the Earth, our temporary home entrusted to us by God.

[incorrect-mha-bnha]

Headcannon/Au Drabble

Kirishima is standing too close to a villain when Bakugou detonates a viscous blast, not taking into consideration that he couldn’t harden everything immediately without fair warning. Kirishima ends up going deaf because of the close proximity.

Nitroglycerin is addtictive, therefore? Midoriya has been around Bakugou the longest (excluding his parents which would have been warned by a doctor awhile ago) and is probably addicted to it despite Bakugou’s many attempts to keep their distance. Midoriya is just a crackhead.

Shigaraki was never able to play patty cake as a kid and that’s depressing in itself.

Ship hc: Person A plays video games with friends and wears a headset. Person B doesn’t play but likes wearing a pair and sitting in their S/O’s lap while talking with everyone.

The Joker/Harley Q trope for a couple dynamic is really valid in many BNHA ships. Person A and B are very capable heroes/people that know how to defend themselves but like to call their S/O in times of trouble. Person A is stopped by a bad guy and calls out for Person B with pure enjoyment for what is about to go down. All the villain hears is loud banging as B gets closer.

Bakugou is actually really amazing at doing makeup and hairstyles, along with doing nails. I’m going to say he learned most of that from self taught occasions, his mom, maybe some aunts and Best Jeanist. ANYWAY, all the class girls love to ask Bakugou for some pampering whenever they can. They always win him over after the fifth or sixth time they beg or give some sort of puppy eyes but Bakugou would never admit to actually liking doing those things.

Kirishima is the type of guy friend to carry pads/tampons in his bag at all times just incase any of the girls may need emergency supplies. He may go as far as bringing Tylenol or even an extra hoodie.

Bakugou owns a lot of house plants, and for many reasons. He’s the best and pretty smart which means he’s eco friendly. What does eco friendly entail? Going green! I hc that he probably refused to show his room because it’s completely jungled out (or full of cute plants and fancy pots). Based on his personality and my own projection, he’d like a plant that isn’t too demanding on care but I doubt he’d mind a challenge. Maybe a handful of succulents and a good amount of cacti- throwing in some Devil’s Ivy and a cute palm tree. Bakugou could spend hours tending to them, watering and building a nice ledge to rest them on just before his window. Indulging in new pots and fancy equipment for the sake of being extra. It’s all about the principle really. Plants produce oxygen, not to mention that some are really good for health as well.

BAKUGOU IS TRANS (but I would never press that on anyone)

Deaf Bakugou?? At a young age when Bakugou was first starting to learn about his quirk, he unleashed a very large, uncontrolled explosion way too close to his ears. That resulted in him becoming completely deaf in one ear and partially in the other.

Shouto is partially blind/visually impaired/completely blind in his right (left??) eye thanks to the BOILING HOT WATER being poured on his EYE. You can’t tell me homeboy didn’t get some sort of damage done from that besides some gnarly burns.

Kaminari has ADHD

Kirishima is extremely roudy and wild, also gay. Very gay.

Kirishima is trans (there are many things that point to this conclusion). Such as: If a transmasc got top surgery, he wouldn’t wear a fucking shirt again either. Talking manly and wanting to be manly is like the basis of what trans guy are working on. And the whole thing about him being gay? Is he really attracted to them or does he want to be them????

They aren’t allowed to have animals in the dorms despite a lot of begging done by all. However, Bakugou decided to say fuck you to the rule and has a bunch of animals in his room. Now. He gets away with it for a few reasons. 1) He isn’t loud about it, doesn’t go around showing them off or boasting like usual. Won’t bring them out of the dorm or let anyone see when he brings supplies back. 2) No one would suspect Bakugou to be such an animal lover or one to break that rule. Sad to say, he does. Many times over the course of high school, in fact. What animals could he possibly have? HMmMm let’s think, shall we? No doubt a hamster, a real grumpy one though. It has to have personality. A Bearded Dragon, Ball Python, a few Corn snakes. Maybe a gecko. But you have to believe he has a cat too. There is no way he wouldn’t. A furry brat that keeps him company while he studies and works out? Jumping on his back as he does yoga and sleeps on his face at night. There is no way. The best part is that the cat is deaf, which is why he adopted it. He went in looking for another lizard and came out with a sassy feline with no hearing. So what? He went soft.

Midoriya would be the first to go to jail between him and Bakugou. Hands down. Think about it... He broke numerous laws just to get a friend back and had no guilt for it. He was just all ‘Ehh, what you gonna do about it?’ when the fuzz pulled up to press charges. Bakugou is just crass and volatile, he threatens to kill people... but has he ever been seen killing someone? In conclusion, Midoriya is a delinquent covered up by his positive cinnamon bun nature.

Alright, personal projection time!! Kirishima bites and chews ice cream. Denki eats soup with a straw. Shouto eats cereal with a fork, “What? I don’t like too much milk. It strains out this way.”. Bakugou is just as bad, he’s a teenager and will do shit just because. Aka, he will go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night for some milk n cookies. When he realizes there is no more milk, he will throw a silent fit because he wanted those damn cookies. Begrudgingly though, he will pour a glass of water and dunk his Oreos in then eat em like that. I don’t make the rules, it’s just what happens.

Bakugou needs constant love and constant positive reinforcement along with help on his anxiety. Give that boy a service dog. A big fluffy golden service dog. A really large, extremely fluffy service down he can hug and hide his face in whenever something is bothering him. A real big puppy that makes him feel secure and makes him laugh. Damn it! Give him a dog now!

Kirishima is rowdy and wild. Baby boy is a teenager. Not to mention is invisible and hyped up on manly shit. THERE IS NO BOUNDS FOR WHAT HE WOULD DO. Think about it. He’d literally card Todoroki into setting him on fire just to see how long he can hold his hardening for. He would have Inasa drop him from the FUCKING SKY just for the hell of it. Hello? Is this thing even on? Kirishima is wild.

Dabi is afraid of spiders. Don’t ask me to elaborate. He just seems like a man with that primal fear.

BAKUGOU IS A FUCKING FASHION ICON OUTSIDE OF SCHOOL. SO FUCKING HELP ME I WILL SCREAM THIS LOUD N PROUD—

Bakugou and Midoriya don’t know how to tie a tie. Midoriya learned that weird funky napkin trick shit from just giving the fuck up and saying “Oh, hey! That looks sorts similar!” And went with it. Bakugou just can’t. He can’t. The only reason his ID shows him with a tie is because Mitsuki tied it for him before hand, and he never let it happen since. They are hopeless. That is all.

[crossingscon]

March Myth of the Month: The Legend of Skalsh

The myth I’m bringing to you today is about a rock. Specifically, this one:

It’s most commonly known as Siwash Rock, though I’ll be referring to it as Skalsh (for reasons I’ll explain later). It’s a beloved local landmark here in Vancouver, BC, which I assume is mostly due to its location right off the busy Stanley Park seawall, surrounded by beautiful ocean, mountain, and city views. It’s in one of the most picturesque places in an already very picturesque city, and as such it gets photographed a lot:

People love this big rock!

And, to be fair, Skalsh is a very cool rock. It was formed some 32 million years ago when magma pushed up through a crack in the Earth’s crust and then cooled into basalt. Over time, wind and water wore away at the (relatively less dense) sandstone surrounding it until what we see today was all that remained.

There are also trees growing on top of Skalsh! The Douglas Fir trees seen nowadays were planted back in the 60s to replace an earlier (and much older) tree that had been growing out of it since at least the 1800s, as seen in this photo from either 1889 or 1890:

When that tree died following Typhoon Frieda in 1962, there was an honest-to-goodness obituary posted in the local paper—

—followed by a years-long effort to replace it by planting various tree saplings where the old one stood. Luckily, by the 1970s there were at least three new firs successfully growing atop Skalsh, and those firs are still going strong to this day.

But that’s not why I’ve chosen this particular rock to talk about today. Skalsh isn’t just a modern tourist landmark, after all--it’s been here millions of years, and has existed pretty much unchanged since long before Canada as a country even existed, let alone Vancouver. As such, the people who originally inhabited the peninsula that is now known as Stanley Park have legends and myths about this land that stretch back centuries. It’s one of those myths that I want to share.

The story of Skalsh was originally told to local Mohawk poet E. Pauline Johnson by Chief Joe Capilano of the Squamish nation, one of three First Nations who call this region home, and it first appeared in Johnson’s 1911 book Legends of Vancouver. There are several myths surrounding Skalsh, but this one is my personal favourite, and it’s the one most people are familiar with. I highly recommend you go read the full legend, but I’ll summarize it for you here as well:

Thousands of years ago, a young chief and father-to-be went swimming in the waters off Stanley Park to cleanse himself in preparation for his child’s arrival, for it was tribal law that all parents must be spotlessly clean when a child is born to ensure them a chance at a clean life. As he swam, he was confronted by a huge canoe carrying four equally huge men who commanded him to move out of their way. He refused, at which point the men, shocked at his disobedience, revealed themselves to be The Transformers, agents of the Creator with the power to transform him into anything, living or dead. Again they asked him to move aside, and again he refused, telling them that nothing was more important than “the cleanliness and purity of his coming child”, not even the Creator himself. While the Transformers were debating what to do about this transgression, they heard the first cries of a newborn child from the shore. Stirred, the man at the head of the canoe stood up and, rather than cursing the chief for his disobedience, decided to reward him for his commitment to his family, turning him to “living stone” so that he could stand as a “monument to clean fatherhood” for generations to come. That stone, of course, is Skalsh, who stands tall and proud to this day.

There are several reasons why I love this story. For one, it’s about a mortal disobeying the gods for the sake of his child and being rewarded for it (though I’m not sure I’d call being turned to stone on the day your child is born a “reward” necessarily). Too often people in myths do things to please a god, or because a god told them to, so it’s nice to hear about someone standing up to them and putting their family first, instead. I also love that it acknowledges the impact of a parent’s state or mindset on their child’s development and life, and casts the young chief’s devotion to his unborn child in a positive, relatively healthy light. It also isn’t a story about sacrifice, which parenthood myths so frequently are. Yes, he gets turned to stone, but it’s a transformation, not a death. In the full retelling of the myth linked above, his wife and newborn child are also turned to stone, effectively immortalizing all three of them, which is at least a kinder fate than leaving them to go on without him.

Mostly, though, I love this myth because it’s about a thing I’m very familiar with, but from the perspective of the original inhabitants of this area, whose voices and stories have so often been silenced and erased from our history. As a descendent of colonizers I think it’s important to be aware of the fact that this land I’ve been privileged to call home was claimed and reshaped and renamed against the will of those people, and learning their myths and legends (those that have been freely shared, at least), and honouring their wishes regarding how this land is seen and used, is one way to do that. It also provides greater meaning and context to the ordinary things and places I see everyday, which makes me appreciate them even more.

Which brings me, finally, to my reason for calling the rock in question Skalsh rather than its current name, Siwash Rock. Skalsh is an anglicization of the Squamish word Slhx̱í7lsh, meaning “standing man”, and was recently proposed as a new name for the rock by the current chief of the Squamish nation as it more closely resembles the names the local first peoples have been using to refer to it for centuries. Comparatively, siwash is a Chinook (not a local nation) jargon word derived from the French sauvage, meaning “native person”, and was chosen by white colonizers in the late 1800s. The plan is to officially change it soon, once everyone can decide on a pronunciation and spelling, but in the meantime I’d still rather call it Skalsh, in honour of that young chief who once stood up to the gods themselves so that his child could thrive, and was immortalized for it.

Claudia Kowalski Director of Public Relations, CrossingsCon

PS. Another of the legends described in Johnson’s book mentions Skalsh, and honestly it’s such a beautiful paragraph, and one that I feel would resonate so deeply with fans of the Young Wizards series, that I couldn’t not include it here, even though it’s not part of the original myth. Consider it an epilogue, I suppose:

The Indian belief is very beautiful concerning the results of good and evil in the human body. The Sagalie Tyee [God] has His own way of immortalizing each. People who are wilfully evil, who have no kindness in their hearts, who are bloodthirsty, cruel, vengeful, unsympathetic, the Sagalie Tyee turns to solid stone that will harbour no growth, even that of moss or lichen, for these stones contain no moisture, just as their wicked hearts lacked the milk of human kindness. The one famed exception, wherein a good man was transformed into stone, was in the instance of Siwash Rock, but as the Indian tells you of it he smiles with gratification as he calls your attention to the tiny tree cresting that imperial monument. He says the tree was always there to show the nations that the good in this man's heart kept on growing even when his body had ceased to be. On the other hand, the Sagalie Tyee transforms the kindly people, the humane, sympathetic, charitable, loving people into trees, so that after death they may go on for ever benefiting all mankind; they may yield fruit, give shade and shelter, afford unending service to the living by their usefulness as building material and as firewood. Their saps and gums, their fibres, their leaves, their blossoms, enrich, nourish, and sustain the human form; no evil is produced by trees–all, all is goodness, is hearty, is helpfulness and growth. They give refuge to the birds, they give music to the winds, and from them are carved the bows and arrows, the canoes and paddles, bowls, spoons, and baskets. Their service to mankind is priceless; the Indian that tells you this tale will enumerate all these attributes and virtues of the trees. No wonder the Sagalie Tyee chose them to be the abode of souls good and great.

[mizumi-xi]

Sweet Treats

Author’s Note: okay so any writing in ‘these’ is thoughts that the character is thinking it is also been put in a different style so you know and thanks for reading.

Origin: story of seasons (3ds game)

Word count: 1,909

Pairing: Raeger x FReader

Warnings: none really just the harsh conditions that come back from reading my writing.

Summary: (y/n) decided to make Raeger a treat on the anniversary of the time they became friends.

~(y/n) POV~

I took myself out of my bed going over to my calendar, identifying the date as the seventh of summer, recognising it’s an anniversary of mine that I hold dear to my heart, nodding to myself. I wandered over to my closet looking through each of the outfits that I own, discovering the blue and white dress I own what I had Picked out last night to wear for this day.

Taking the hangar out of the closet, I scurry to my bathroom to change out of my nightwear and into the bluebell dress. I set my dirty clothes in the hamper before i exit the bathroom once I’m into the wide area of my house I travel to my full-length mirror to style my (h/l) (h/c) hair.

Turning to face my kitchen, I raise my left hand onto the counter as I reach up to the cupboard on the wall to get down my recipe book with my right hand. Holding it in both my palms, I set the bulky book on the counter. Smiling as I scanned the cover “(Y/n)’s book of deserts by Raeger” flipping the pages scanning each open till I pause on page 29 seeing a small design of a pinkish-red pie with a golden pastry topped with pale green rosettes of cream circling the rim of the pastry.

“That’s the one” I murmur to myself as I learn the ingredients nodding to myself as I placed my apron on as I pick up the equipment that I needed placing them on the counter. Turning my head to the fridge I stride up to it gripping the door before opening it scanning the contents of the fridge spotting the watermelon, watermelon juice, kiwi, double cream, condensed milk, lard and margarine taking each of them out of the fridge and setting them onto the counter I move to the cupboard taking out flour placing it beside the other ingredients.

I glance to the clock before I choose the 4-inch pie dish since I was simply making it for one person moving to the side while I prepare the pastry humming a light tune that ends just as I finish preparing the pastry which I then roll up and cling film and set in the fridge to rest.

Grabbing the condensed milk, watermelon, watermelon juice, and cream, I commence on the filling of the pie crust, forming a watermelon cheesecake mix without the cheese. I stare at the bowl with the batter in uttering a little “very pale” opening a draw beside me stumbling through the things before I pull up natural red food colouring.

Opening the vial up I drop a singular drop into the mix before stirring it to catch the colour get sharper as it wound up a colour akin to that of what a watermelon on the inside looks like moving it to the side to take the pastry out of the fridge to assemble the crust before baking it looking at the complete pie components I realise I’m missing an essential part of the pie quickly whipping up the kiwi flavoured cream I check on the time and look in the oven at the pastry taking it out with oven gloves as the pastry turned a golden colour.

After assembling the pie, I set it in a small white box before noticing two hours had occurred; I put the box in the fridge and rush out of my home to take care of to my animals and field. Walking to my field, I take my watering can and sprinkle the strawberries, speaking to them as I say small encouraging comments to the plants.

“That’s it become big my strawberries you will be the tastiest in town” once I finish watering the plants I waddle over to my chicken hut to look after them arranging the grain into the trough I continue to check on the cows spotting my favourite one Cherry a reddish-brown cow running up to her I pat her head as she happily moos.

“Cherry darling guess what day it is” cherry moo’s as if she can understand me “yes that’s right I will travel straight thereafter I have looked after you all” Cherry lets out another moo as she gradually turns away so I could look after them. Placing water in the water trough, I wipe my forehead a little with my forearm and wander out of the cow shed and back into my home to read the time.

Taking a big inhale of air at what the time is now “oh sheesh it took four hours to cover that” mumbling to myself I glance at myself in the mirror before fixing my attire and picking up the box from the fridge in my hands flying out of my house.

Arriving at the entrance of the central part of town, I search around before I rush to the only restaurant in the centre. Looking at the door I spot a closed sign on the door knocking at it lightly I wait before the door gently opens to a dirty blonde haired male in a chef outfit smiling.

“Ah (y/n) what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival at my shop on this day” tilting my head to the side as a cheeky smile appears upon my face as my eyes narrow.

“What can’t your friend come over for an impromptu visit” he shakes his head, chuckling a moment before opening the door further, stepping to the side with his arm out pointing inside. Walking past him into his restaurant, I look to the island bar moving up to it, setting the box on the counter and hopping onto the seat.

Raeger closed the door, striding over to where I was sitting spotting the box that I had set “oh pray tell what you have brought over” I stare astonished at him, my mouth settling into an o shape.

“I-well-um, did you forget today is the anniversary of when we became friends two years ago” a shocked look sprung onto his face before it transformed into a sad one.

“Oh, it is I’m sorry I have got nothing for you I’ve been rather busy” I shake my hand about, laughing softly as I open the box, removing the small pie.

“That’s okay I brought you something that I made. Do you have vanilla ice cream” his face lights up at the sight of the pie then nods running off to the freezer to bring the ice cream as I pick up a plate and set the pie on it out of the tin.

“Here I go it” you spot him rushing back as his words spill out as I take the ice cream out of his hands my fingertips grazing his as I drag it back to scoop up ice cream and plant it in the middle of the pie.

“There ya go it’s a watermelon pie with kiwi cream and vanilla ice cream its to cool you down in this hot summer heat.” he glances up to me with a modest flush to his face before peeking at the pie gasping.

“You used the recipe book I made you” he has a small taste of the pie before staring at me again, stunned. “this is a cheesecake filling,” I hum a little in agreement.

“Yup, I didn’t like how it was gelatine so I produced a cheesecake filling without cheese so it could bring the flavour out better.” he studies the pie before eating more of it humming.

“I guess I know what I could make you do you mind waiting” he stops eating the pie taking the plate with him and placing it in the sink “you’re wonderful at baking you realise that (y/n)” I giggle at his compliment and settle my head against my hand.

“I learnt from the best. Isn’t that right Raeger” winking at him he spins his face away as he hesitates over a few words as he’s creating something “y-yes you di-did I recall when you first asked me to teach you to how to cook you had the same dress on and your hair was longer than it is back then”.

“Do you recall everything back then?” I interrogate him as he puts something in the oven before he twists his entire body to me.

“of course I recall everything it was the fifth time we had met when you requested that. You even suggested we could practice at your home since you realised I don’t like people who aren’t dear to me in my kitchen.” He draws a deep breath before he proceeded, “it’s also the first time I stayed an outfit I genuinely loved but solely on that peculiar person”.

My head tilts to the side as a wrack my brain, struggling to recall who we passed by when traveling to my house, before removing my head from my hand, hitting my fist into my open palm.

“Oh, Angela yeah she was sporting a nice dress that day I didn’t realise you liked her.” he peered at me with a sad expression before exhaling.

“That’s not wh” the timer on the oven had sounded out as he opens the oven to take the creation out as he gradually assembled what he was creating “close your eyes please (y/n)”.

“Oki” I close my eyes as I feel Raeger's presence in front of me before a small cold item was situated against my lips. “Open up please,” a murmur comes from him as I open my mouth slightly as he sets the treat in my mouth as his fingers rest against my lips as their warmth spread over my lips.

“Soft” I open my eyes hearing the murmur of words said but not following them while I savour the taste of the treat in my mouth “huh what did you say” he sways his head, bringing his hand away.

“Nothing, nothing, just savour the gifts” nodding I pop another in my mouth to devour it, beaming as he just watches me.

“They’re amazing you realise that are these a new item on the menu I bet many individuals have loved them the milk chocolate goes nicely with the watermelon gelatine and the kiwi flavoured chocolate goes nicely with the vanilla shortcake,” he looks at me shocked before his face comes back to natural.

“I just came up with them you gave me the thought and no they won’t go on the menu and I’m truly shocked you could taste every flavour,” he looks at the plate of chocolates then back up to me placing his palm on the side of my face rubbing his thumb against my plush cheek “your so wonderful (y/n)”.

~Raeger POV~

‘She’s so beautiful I love how the dress she’s wearing is what drove me to notice her. I love how she asked me to teach her how to cook and I love how every new recipe I create is because I dreamed of her. She is my friend and my first love and I can’t wait to express to her how much I cherish her’.

“No, you are my favourite chef you are incredible” she beams up at me as my palm stands on her soft cheek.

‘She will be the death of me one day’.

[schnowydays]

The “Herne and the Red Kite” Analysis Nobody Asked For

WARNING: This is probably a very long and unnecessary post. 

Wah, so at first I was quite nervous on posting this at all because this is just so embarrassingly long and it is really overly thought out. Plus no one even asked for it and there does not seem to be a need for this since the song is kind of straightforward. But, I still put work into this so I’m going to post it anyways cuz it would feel like a waste if I didn’t. Plus, I’m immensely busy with school right now, so why not just let this fester while I’m away? So,,, here we go:::

Okay, so this was spun out by this post and I just became so interested in what the heck this song was about. I’ve always loved listening to it but I had no idea what the heck was going on - who is Herne? A red kite?? Does this relate to Hadley and Rosalie???

Plus, I love reading analysis on stuff so, here I am, attempting to make my own.

Anyways, to give a quick overview, I am going to be analyzing both the words and the instruments used in the song, going strictly by the studio recording. Everything here will be MY OPINION ALONE so it could be possible that I am horribly wrong on certain things. This research was INCREDIBLY LIGHT so there are probably a lot of details that I missed. Plus, I don’t really have strong music or literature knowledge, nothing beyond what you’re taught in high school. I’ll try to clear up the blocks of text with pictures or videos of things I think are helpful. 

I’m basically going to be the English Teacher who finds meaning in everything meme. You know, the:

So, without further ado...

Background

The Song Itself

As we all know, “Herne and the Red Kite” was written by Hadley Fraser and was released on his EP Just Let Go. Although it was released in 2014, I’m not entirely sure when this song was written, so it could have been really any time before then. Just to get it out there, based on what others have already said (from that post, yes), this song is most likely to be about Hadley and Rosalie Craig. Here is the song itself if you’ve (somehow) never heard it before. You can also listen along and read at the same time :D

Characters in the Song

Herne

Based on only a Google search, “Herne the Hunter”, an English folklore ghost, is really the only thing that shows up. He is mentioned by Shakespeare in The Merry Wives of Windsor in which he is described as “the ghost of a former Windsor Forest keeper who haunts a particular oak tree at midnight in the winter time” (Wikipedia). He is associated with the Windsor Forest and the Great Park in Berkshire. He basically does a lot of not cool stuff, like making cows produce blood instead of milk and making trees die. Another version states that he was made so that parents can scare their children into being more obedient. Herne is also the surname of a bunch of people. Because Herne is such an interesting name to use for a song like this (why didn’t he pick literally anything else??), then there is probably some intention behind the use of this name and probably the connotations that come with it.

Red Kite

So, apparently, the Red Kite isn’t actually a kite but is actually a kind of English bird. Fun fact, during Shakespeare’s time, it was considered to be an insult to be called a kite because this bird, back then, was regarded as quite a lowly bird since it was literally associated with trash. It was related this way because it eats dead things haha... However, it was hunted intensely until it became basically extinct except for a few in Wales. Over time, as the population began to thrive again, the Red Kite became a celebrated symbol of Wales (probably) (source). 

According to a lot of different sites, apparently Red Kites also have some meaning to them. I think the most consistent and most important one is how they are a connection between the living and the underworld. This mystical connection binds well with Herne being a folklore ghost who, of course being a ghost, is probably dead. So, already, they are a pretty good match.

A good thing to note as well, birds, in general, are usually used to symbolize freedom. Also, as far as I can tell, there are really no previous stories or songs or works or whatever about Herne and Red Kites together. 

Hadley and Rosalie’s Relationship

I got this information from here (brought up by @peonybooks​ in a chat, thank you!!)

So, depending on where you look, in 2008 or 2009, Hadley and Rosalie met on the set of A Christmas Carol production in Birmingham, although at the time, they were both dating other people. A piece of the set had fallen on Rosalie during that time and basically destroyed her arm. However, she was determined to swiftly come back to the stage because she was afraid that if she hadn’t, she’ll never be able to come back at all. That, and “because [she] had fallen in love with [Hadley]” (my feelings waaa).

Once the production was over, Hadley shipped it back to LA while Rosalie stayed in London. Hadley returned a year later and called up Rosalie for a drink. It was then discovered that they had actually liked each other this entire time!! They just never told each other. They lived together in Crystal Palace after that and married in 2014. This makes it around the time that this EP was released. 

Hadley and Rosalie as Herne and the Red Kite

Something interesting I noticed was the relation of their names to these characters. H is for Hadley and Herne. R is for Rosalie and the Red Kite. 

Of course, this little fun fact breaks a bit if Hadley is using his real first name, Robert, haha. The “Red” in “Red Kite” can also be a relation to how Rosalie has red hair (thanks @alittlepawblog​ hehe).

Also, something worth noting is how Rosalie sings all the lines that are in Herne’s perspective, and Hadley sings all the lines about the Red Kite’s perspective. That trade-off is quite neat, actually. They are both narrators together in this story, but they are swapping who talks about who. It makes the whole song feel like they are speaking for each other together. 

Lyrics and Instruments

I think for this part, I am going to break it up by when each person sings. So basically, whenever there is a new singer or if they start singing together, that will be a new section. Italics are lyrics, regular print is the analysis.

Instrumental

The story is introduced by an accordion. To be honest, it sounds quite static, or maybe even stoic. There is not a lot of feeling in it, maybe to demonstrate how Herne and the Red Kite’s lives were like before meeting each other.

The sprinkles of hi-hats spring the beginning of the song, which consists of a guitar melody, bass and a violin. The violin has a recurring melody that is highlighted every time there is an instrumental break. It could perhaps represent Herne as both Herne (and subsequently Hadley) is mentioned throughout the song consistently, while the Red kite is only mentioned after the introduction. 

Rosalie

Herne lived alone, lived alone in a wood Staring at swallows, wishing he could Join their migration from flower to flower Finally deciding to rest on some bower

Herne is introduced right off the bat, making him kind of the main character. That, and the fact that he has the most lines in the song directly about him. Makes sense if Herne is supposed to stand in for Hadley, since Hadley wrote this song. The fact that he lives in the woods also fits nicely with how he is supposed to be a ghost associated with the Windsor Forest and the Great Park. 

The lyrics state he is lonely and stares at swallows, wishing he could join them and fly far away visiting beautiful things (“flower to flower”). Swallows are typically symbols for very very good things, like happiness, protection, connection, conflict resolution, etc. The words “finally deciding to rest” kind of makes it like he has been on this long trek for happiness for a while. He’s been doing this search for so long that he just has to rest, finally. And, in case you didn’t know like me, a bower is “a pleasant shady place under trees or climbing plants in a garden or wood” (thanks Google). 

So, just to recap Herne is a lonely ghost who doesn’t want to be this way. He wants to be happy, have a connection with something, but being isolated in the wood just doesn’t let him do that. This may indicate how lonely or just duller things seemed to be for Hadley before he met Rosalie. He didn’t feel a true connection or see true beauty, something he desperately wanted to experience, until her. 

BOTH

With another With another

Albeit being very short, these can potentially have meaning behind them. “With another” - another what? They also start singing together here for the first time. Perhaps the “another” is each other, Hadley and Rosalie, or a foreshadow that Herne will be joined by another person or being soon, a sort of set up for the Red Kite, who is introduced in the next line. 

Hadley

Herne lifts his head and the Red Kite goes drifting by Suddenly in love with something that caught her eye

Hadley now sings but from the perspective of the Red Kite. Notice before that Rosalie sang the last verse, but all about Herne. They kind of mirror each other in this way. 

With the video above, you can see how, while they drift, the Red Kites move their head a lot. Maybe this is a normal bird movement and I’m just too dumb to know, but they seem to be actively searching below them. I think this derives from how they are scavenger birds. However, instead of spotting food, she spots Herne and is “suddenly in love”. This could parallel into real life, where Rosalie might have seen Hadley in passing on the production and experienced love at first sight. These lines indicate that Herne (Hadley) has clearly seen the Red Kite (Rosalie) as well, probably having the same love at first sight moment, something that can be inferred once the song progresses into the next Rosalie verse. 

In this verse, the accordion returns as well, possibly indicating some remnants of the past sadness still lingering. There is uncertainty. However, a new instrument is also introduced simultaneously: the mandolin. To me, it kind of sounds very happy and bright and hopeful, especially in the plucky way it was used. This new instrument, as well as the potentially cheesy representation (rip me), can indicate that something new and exciting is going to begin.

BOTH

Something that's shining so bright in the sunlight Let's hope we never...

If we’re sticking with the definition of bowers being shady, then should it not be very unlikely that the Red Kite or Herne have spotted each other at all? Perhaps through this line, they are saying how unlikely their relationship was to have occurred, but when it ultimately did, it was glorious. In the following line, they say “Let’s hope we never lose that thing that shines in the sunlight ever again”. Maybe it was just so unbelievably good, so amazing, that they were afraid that they would lose it because it just feels so unimaginable. Besides, this flips well into reality since they never told each other they liked each other and kept it secret for a whole year!! PLUS, they were dating others when they first met!! Very unlikely relationship indeed. 

...then again, this could just be them saying the other is really great haha. 

The accordion is fazed out as if the longer Herne and the Red Kite gaze at each other, the past sadness and loneliness are slowly melting away. The violin returns, swelling into the next line. 

BOTH - HADLEY MELODY, ROSALIE HARMONY

...lose that thing that shines in the sunlight ever again

Them singing together makes it like they are in total agreement with each other.  It’s like Hadley is making this statement in the melody, and Rosalie supports wholeheartedly with her harmony. From Hadley to Rosalie, and Rosalie to Hadley, they feel like the other outcompetes the sun (the sun!).

Instrumental

The violin melody from the beginning returns, as does the guitar melody. However, after the violin does its melody once, the trumpet now copies it! If the violin represents Herne because of how both he and the violin are introduced at around the same time, then the trumpet could represent the Red Kite, bringing new a much more vibrant, bold and triumphant vibe to Herne’s life. Plus, the fact that the trumpet copies the violin’s melody probably means there is a connection between the two. This would make it somewhat like an instrumental duet or could also possibly foreshadow that something very good is about to happen. 

Rosalie

Only one Herne and not enough wood Climbed up the bower and atop it he stood Called down the Red Kite from high up above Come land down here and be my love

Herne feels so attracted to the Red kite that he feels a physical pull to her, so much so that he climbs up on top of the bower. With not enough wood, he’s too far away from the Red Kite, and with only one Herne, it feels like nothing is there to support him in what he is trying to do. So he calls down the Red Kite to be with him instead, kind of like how Hadley called Rosalie for a drink all those years ago. It was him that reached out at the end that called her to him. “Be my love”, they will soon declare to each other during/after that fateful meeting. 

This also begins the hunter-bird relationship, if we are going to take this a little more literally. Hunter and bird relationships are very mutualistic. They help each other, with the birds guiding the hunters to their targets and the hunters paying them back in some way, usually through food or other means. 

BOTH

Forever Forever

Singing together, they both want to be together forever (haha, pretty obvious?)

Hadley

Red Kite flies down (he's waited his life for this) Whispers to Herne something, whispers, and then a kiss

As the Red Kite flies down towards Herne (as Rosalie gets closer to Hadley, or comes to meet him), Herne (Hadley) thinks that “he’s waited his life for this”. This goes back to the beginning where we know that Herne really wanted to go beyond the wood to see new beautiful things. Now someone beautiful has come to him instead, making his once isolating and lonely world so much more dazzling and loving. 

They also whisper, which is a pretty intimate choice of word. And they kiss! Literally spelling out a loving relationship. The happiness, love, protection, connection that Herne (Hadley) yearned for, for such a long time, is finally here. 

The mandolin also returns, the hope has its pay off! It continues to play throughout the rest of the song until after a few “Herne and the Red Kite” repeats at the very end of the song.

BOTH

Something that's shining so bright in the sunlight Let's hope we never... 

BOTH - HADLEY MELODY, ROSALIE HARMONY

...lose that thing that shines in the sunlight ever again

Once again, they repeat these words, as if to reaffirm this message that they are the best thing to have happened to each other. This is also at the end of the song, you can interpret as the end of this segment of the story, but the start of something beautiful. As time goes on, this magnificent idea they hold of each other never changes, despite anything that happens. 

Instrumental

This instrumental segment sounds like a slightly altered version of the instrumental breaks we’ve heard before. It is a lot more energetic, with the first threeish notes being kept from the original, but now tacked on with something extra. Overall, it just sounds so much happier than the instrumental breaks we’ve been getting before. 

BOTH

Herne and the Red Kite (repeat)...

This line is repeated 12 times (yes, I counted). The overall feel just sounds so triumphant and happy, like we’re celebrating. The joyous melody has the mandolin fade out, and if you really listen, the trumpet and violin seem to be having a very animated conversation with one another, calling and responding to each other and at times responding really quickly. The same guitar melody that we hear during the instrumental breaks is back as well.

Instrumental

All the instruments fade away, with the violin’s recurring melody closing the celebration off until there is only the guitar left. With only the violin standing out at the very end, it's nice that the original solo melody is now surrounded by all these other exciting things, making it kind of say that Herne is still Herne, but now he is surrounded by so many wonders now that the Red Kite is here. With the guitar having its ending solo, It makes it sounds like this is a tale gone by, and now we talk about it as if it were a folktale or a legend. It kind of feels like we’re just talking about this story around a campfire instead. Herne and the Red Kite grew old and grew old together, closing off the song like a musical “happily ever after”. 

Extra Stuff

Interesting Notes

The way it is written sort of sounds like a children’s poem, describing a simple but cute story

The song, overall, personally has a folklore vibe to it haha

There are a few pairs that can be picked out

Herne and the Red kite

Hadley and Rosalie

Male and Female voice (duet)

Violin and Trumpet

Accordion and Mandolin (Accordion is replaced by the Mandolin)

Any time the two sing together, it kind of just reinforces the narrator aspect of things, how they seem to be telling us the story of how they met and ultimately fell in love from a long time ago

Unanswered Questions

Why use Herne of all figures? Herne is supposed to be a very scary ghost. If it truly is supposed to represent Hadley, does this mean he identifies with the ghost in some way? Or did he derive some meaning from Herne’s presence in the works he shows up in?

Conclusion

Waa ok, that’s all I have for now about Herne and the Red Kite. If you made it to the end, thank you so much!! Truly appreciative that you read all the ramblings <3 

Here is the super general story: Herne was yearning for something more and was feeling lonely. Then he saw the Red Kite drift by, and for both of them, it was love at first sight. He desperately wanted to be with her, so he called out to her despite the odds or the distance, and as she descended to him, he felt excited that his loneliness was finally going to end. From then on, they shared a happy and joyous relationship until the end of time. The end~

The writing of this post took much longer than the actual light research and speculation part of it. Again, I might be completely wrong because this is just what I think is going on, and I might also just be looking waaaayyy too deep into things. If this is truly a proper, or at least somewhat proper, reflection of Hadley and Rosalie’s relationship, then I feel incredibly soft :’) 

If you have any other ideas, or if you agree/disagree with my analysis, please let me know!! I’m really excited to see what others have to say. :D

Until next time, I guess haha