flowing underneath

2

Syracuse University scientists wanted to study the odd combination of ice and lava up-close. So they poured over 600 pounds of molten lava on this ice bed. What they discovered may surprise you. The lava didn’t melt the ice. In fact, lava can travel on top of snow. It can even flow underneath ice layers. Here’s why: Volcanic ash prevented the lava from melting the ice rapidly. The lava was also lubricated by a layer of steam.

Via BuzzFeed

Selkie Bold

We never really listened
Aye
But now I remember as a girl
The Blackwater rivers with
It’s sunsets of gold
They speak
They sing
They hum
They paint

Streams that lead to a destination
Far beyond the Atlantic sea

Now flow on river
Underneath the shamrock sky
Flow blissfully
Into his strong fertile fields

Flow blissfully
But don’t you dare forget
To kiss me
:::

Title: It’s the Back Muscles

Warnings: Half naked, recounts of violence, blood, exhaustion, fluff, sweetness

Word Count: 624

Summary: Castiel is changing in the bedroom when reader walks in- exhausted from a long day of research and hunting. Before he can finish changing she gets distracted by his back muscles.

a/n: Trying to lift my mood a bit so here’s a crappy fluff fic. Be ready for some major angst later on- i have quite the story in store ;) 

———–

You shuffled into the bunker- muttering a ‘night’ towards the brothers before heading to your room. To say you were exhausted was an absolute and complete understatement. Your body was sore- and you were pretty sure you had some cuts and bruises scattered throughout your body. Stupid werewolves.

You opened the door to your room, stepping in and closing once realizing that Castiel was changing. You watched him pull off his shirt- staring at his back muscles as they moved and flowed underneath his skin in coils. You walked forward and before Cas could fully turn around you rest a hand on his back, tracing over the muscles. He fell still, your cold hand sending chills down his spine as you traced the mock of wings in his muscles.

“You have quite the back.” You said softly, and he chuckled- the vibrations hitting the pads on your fingertips as you rested them against his spine. You leaned in and rested your forehead against his back- your warmth breathing billowing and spreading out across his skin, giving him goosebumps.

“I have werewolves.” You muttered, and when you felt him starting to turn as a warning to that he was going to turn, you pulled away and allowed him to turn to face you. He took you in with a once over- grimacing slightly as he noticed how matted down your hair looked, and just how… done you looked over all.

“Tell me about it.” He said, pulling you into his warm chest. You let out a soft sigh, wrapping your arms around him loosely, your head resting on his chest as you closed your eyes, his chin resting on the top of your head as you guys swayed softly to the sound of nothing.

“I’m so tired.” You muttered, and he chuckled again- this time the chuckle vibrating throughout your cheek and jaw.

“Shower, then join me in bed.” He said and you nodded, but didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to leave his arms, they were so warm and so comfortable. He pulled back and you sighed, shuffling off to the shower.

After having showered you dried off and pulled on a pair of Captain America pajama bottoms- which Dean had bought you for christmas- and a black tee that had a pair of white angel wings on the back, which of course was given to you by Cas. You left the bathroom- hair brushed and toweled dry- and threw yourself into the bed.


Cas rolled over towards you and sat up, helping you underneath the covers before pulling you into his chest- running a hand through your freshly cleaned hair and the other one wrapped around your waist, keeping him close to you.

“How did the hunt go overall?” He asked, and you huffed, half asleep.

“Well I guess.” You mumbled. “I was ambushed at one point- think I got a cut on my back but I don’t really know. Gosh- sometimes I’m so tempted to just turn and leave. Leave this life behind.” You muttered, and his hand around your waist carefully roamed your back to see if you were indeed correct about the cut.

“I’m glad you don’t, don’t get me wrong. This can suck, but I’m grateful you decide to stay. That allows me to be with you.” He said, and you softly chuckled- taking a deep breath and beginning to fall asleep.

“I love you cas, night baby.” You muttered, and his kissed your forehead- closing his own eyes as he just held you.

“I love you too (Y/n). Sleep well.” He said, and they drifted off into a peaceful sleep- neither one of them plagued by nightmares or the horrors of their past. Just the peaceful future.

everyone’s heard of the mangrove by the sea where trees’ roots plunge into the earth and purify the magic flowing underneath, blackening their roots. once their roots can no longer filter the magic, they wither and the magic carries them skyward as they slowly break apart and scatter their essence. the magical denizens in the area pass stories that entering the groves could sap away your own magic if your soul isn’t pure, so most dare not enter.

in the mangroves where the magic of the sea and forest meet, it is rumored that a princess of the wood and a princess of the sea rendezvous in secret.

4

Konieczny’s Ark by KWK Promes

The site is vulnerable to landslides, so the house ‘floats’ above ground, giving the Ark its abstract boat-like aesthetic, while allowing for water and mud to flow underneath freely.

The sharp ring of his phone has Tooru jolt awake with a gasp. He sits upright in bed, heart chasing behind the fading remnants of a nightmare, and his pulse thunders underneath the flow of his blood. The display of his phone is alight in neon blue when Tooru grabs it and falls back into his sheets. There is only one message. It’s just a few words, but they’re enough to have Tooru’s mind go still and ice-cold.

They didn’t take it well. I’m coming over. 

Minutes later, his phone rings again. Incoming call. Tooru waits five seconds, and the alarm dies out. It’s their signal, and god, hearing it in a situation like that hurts so fucking much. Tooru pushes his blankets back and uses the light of his display to sneak out of his room. The stairs don’t make a sound below his feet. There’s a shadow waiting behind the front door, silent, motionless. 

Tooru opens. “I’m sorry,” he says, “come in. Tell me what happened.” 

But Hajime’s eyes are tired and crimson-swollen, his lips parading a shameful hint of blood from teeth digging into them. “No. Don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore.” He brushes a hand through his hair, glancing up at Tooru. “Can I stay tonight?”

Tooru’s answer is to cradle Hajime’s cheeks between his warm hands, trembling and scared, and to kiss his lips as if this was their last night on earth. 

It still takes an entire night of weaving their bodies into a skin-tight hug, one that holds together souls and minds, for Hajime to say another word about it. The morning sun rises when he rests his soft lips against Tooru’s forehead and whispers: “I don’t care if they hate me. I’m so sick of hiding that I love you. They gotta live with it, because - because I can’t and won’t stop loving you.” 

“We’ll find a way.” Tooru’s voice is quiet and calm, but his fingers shake where they rest on Hajime’s heart. “And if it means you staying here until we graduate, we’ll do that.”

They both know that it won’t be that easy. Hajime buries his face into Tooru’s warm shoulder and doesn’t say anything. But the smile that Tooru’s mother gives them when they come downstairs the next morning, hand in hand - well. Maybe it’s a start. Maybe it’s something like hope.

When all thoughts and words in us have dried up,
there remains such a profound silence
—unending, without beginning.
When all the words in us continue flowing,
underneath or behind them
there remains a profound silence.
Before words are spoken, there is a profound silence.
It can never dry up. It is without boundaries.
Nothing can touch or alter it. Nothing can remove it.
This silence and being, existence and love,
Truth and God…are all One—the Supreme Being.
—  Mooji 2016