snow wit


“I can already tell, that it won’t taste as deliciously as you would.”

Originally posted by jeonggukk

Précis: In which you go on a date with your supposed boyfriend who loves to flirt, and not just with you.

Note: *starts snickering* does anyone remember this? One of my first bts fics ever, and it’s back and revamped. You’ll thank me later. | Words ➳ 7.4k

Genre & Warning: Angsty with a side of fluff, or am I lying? No warning, goodbye.

It was on a frosty evening when you found yourself sitting alone on a metallic bench, your eyes filled with such awe and longing as you watched the snow fall softly. You didn’t know what it was, but as your hand slowly reached out to grab a few snowflakes onto your glove, you inspected them carefully and smiled at how delicately they were made, as if the angels residing in the clouds took their time to construct and sculpt each one as they flew freely into the sky; only to be smothered and perished into the ground.

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jon snow; little one

request: Can you do a Jon Snow imagine where you and him keep trying and trying for a child till one day it happens and you find out you’re expecting and the fluffiness that ensues after the birth 

notes: I really like this!!! basically bc I love jon and everything about him ^^ hope you enjoy it!!!

Tears kept streaming down your face while you kept trying to hold them. You got underwater, the warm water around you giving you certain peace of mind over the turmoil going on inside you. Suddenly, two hands grabbed from your armpits and pulled you out of the tub.

Gasping for air, you heard a high pitched voice behind you. “Your grace! Are you trying to kill yourself?!” You shook your head at your handmaiden, who kept babbling around you. She grabbed both your cheeks and looked at you in the eye. Whatever she was planning on saying stopped before it could be voiced when she saw your puffy red eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re crying for that reason again. You have to relax!”

“I’m okay, Oria.” You shook your head at your friend. She had been your handmaiden for a long time now, and she was the only person to who you told everything.

“You don’t seem okay to me, your grace.”

You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself. Since you got married, Jon and you had been trying to have a child, although he was reluctant at first. You stopped drinking moon tea, but it seemed to be harder than that to get pregnant.

“I got my moonblood this month too.”

She nodded her head. “Well, you just keep trying. With your permission, your grace, it’s not like our King in the North is unpleasant to look at. Trying for that baby is probably the best part of the process.”

You huffed at your handmaiden’s words. She was always quite straightforward with what she told you when you two were alone. You had asked her to, fearing people would start lying to you because of your brand new title of queen.

“I think… I just believed it’d be easier. I’ve met a lot of women who get pregnant on their wedding night. Why is it taking us so long?”

“Some women take longer to get pregnant. Others give birth to child after child. Both are normal, do not worry, your grace.”

“And what if there is a reason to worry, what if there is something wr-”

“I’m sure nothing is wrong, your grace.” She cut you off. “You did go to the Maester, right?” You nodded assertively. “And he did say everything was right.” You nodded again. “Well, then there is no reason to worry, Y/N.”

You heard her, but you couldn’t shake the worry from you. “I want a child. He wants a child, but I keep giving him blood.”

She tsked when she heard your words. She dried your body and helped put your nightdress on. You sat on your bed, while Oria brushed your hair. Knocking brought your attention towards the door, where Jon was standing. You looked down, your hands resting on your lap. How much had he heard? You didn’t want to see his face, whether it showed disappointment at the lack of a child, anger or pity. You didn’t want him to know your suffering. It seemed terribly mild compared to what was happening on the continent.

“This is my cue. Your grace.” She curtsied to both you and Jon, looking apologetically at you. She put the brush on the nightstand and you heard the door close. You crouched on your sit, waiting for him to speak first.

“So you’re not pregnant.”

You nodded your head, although it wasn’t a question. He went to his side of the bed and started to undress. Your eyes followed him around, but his expression didn’t change. He just seemed as tired as he usually did. When he finished putting his nightclothes on, he got himself under the blankets. You looked at him questioningly. Wasn’t he going to speak? Noticing your gaze, he patted the space next to him and you scurried to your side of the bed, your shoulders touching. He didn’t say anything at first, but just grabbed your hand under the layers. Your eyes watered immediately.

“It’s fine, Y/N. It is not your fault. It could never be.”

“But what if it is?!”

“Listen to me.” He turned to you and looked at you straight in the eye, his grey ones boring into yours. “I’m not going to love you any less if you don’t give me any children. If I love you, it is because of who you are, not because of what you could give me. Do you understand?” You nodded your head, but your insecurity was still bugging you at the back of your head.

“What would happen… if we never have a child?”

His face showed pain, the same that yours probably showed, but his words were strong and honest when he voiced them. “We’ll keep living our lives as we’ve done. Will the love you feel diminish if we never have a child?” You shook your head. “Nor will mine for you. We’ll be as happy as ever.”

You nodded your head, feeling better in his presence, always making you calmer. You closed your eyes and laid on his chest, his warmth embracing you, his arms holding you close and his chin resting atop of your head. When he hugged you, hidden behind the blankets and your chamber’s walls, you could feel human again, like it was just Jon and you, and there was no war or no worrisome thoughts clouding your head.

“You know—you said—Ghost can always have little wolves, and we help him raise them.” He laughed, his chest rumbling with laughter behind your back.

“Yes, he could. But meanwhile we just have to keep trying.” You laughed and kissed him, feeling the weight on your shoulders.


“Are you sure, Maester?”

“I’ve tended pregnant women before, your grace. I do not wish to sound too arrogant, but I think I’m right.”

You tried to control your shaking breath while you walked back to your chambers, your drumming heartbeat deafening you. You were with child. Finally. Everyone was right. There seemed to be nothing wrong with, but maybe certain amounts of anxiety. You were looking for Jon now. You just roamed the castle until you found Ghost jumping in the snow, playing around. It still surprised you how he could go from a wild beast to an adorable and docile animal.

“Hello, Ghost. Can you take me to Jon? I’ve got something to tell him.”

His ears perked at the noise, and your breath got stuck in your throat when the white wolf approached you and brushed your belly with his snout. You had a hard time holding your tears while you nodded your head. You grinned wide when Ghost started jumping around, happy apparently, and trotted towards where Jon was.

You found him in a secluded spot of the castle, sharpening his sword, while a bunch of others laid next to him.

“Isn’t that the blacksmith’s job?”

He looked up startled, but his hands were still firm holding Longclaw. “I’d rather do it myself, really. It clears my mind.”

You nodded and sat next to him, while he kept working on Longclaw. You guessed that the best way to tell him was being straightforward about it.

“I need to tell you something.” His attention was on you. He looked at your fidgeting hands to Ghost’s excited demeanour, whose tail was moving happily from left to right. What a smart animal. It wasn’t hard for Jon to figure out what was going on, for he knew what kind of news could have made you as happy as you were.

“Really? Are you…?” You nodded, biting your lip nervously. He quickly stood up and took you in his arms, carefully not to harm you. He buried his head on your shoulder, and whether he was crying or not, he managed to hide it from you. You would have cried too, but the happiness surrounding you wouldn’t simply let them fall. Only nine moons until you could meet your child.


“It’s huge.”

“There is a human inside there, Jon. It needs space.”

“It’s going to be a big baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Had you never seen a pregnant belly before, Jon?”

He grimaced. “Lady Stark wouldn’t let me approach her at all on a daily basis, even less when she was with child, even if they were my siblings.”

You crouched in shame, regretting bringing up the topic of his childhood, knowing how much his estranged relationship with Lady Catelyn had hurt him.

“Well, don’t worry, you’ll be around this child for a long time.” A smile appeared on his face, as it always did when someone would bring up the topic of his fatherhood. He only leaned towards you and placed a kiss to your belly, laying carefully next to it.


Jon paced back and forth outside his chambers, waiting for the doors to open. He had heard his baby cry a couple minutes before, and he didn’t understand why wouldn’t anybody open the door and tell him what was going on. The maester said it was the normal procedure, but that still didn’t put Jon at ease.

The door opened, and one of the maids got out carrying a bowl of water. Jon got in, almost knocking the maid off and quickly spotted his wife sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and holding a little someone wrapped in many furs. When you heard him come in, you beamed at him. Your messy hair was sticking to your sweaty forehead, your lips where bloody from biting them, and your breathing was still irregular, but you had never felt better, and Jon had never seen you looking so content. Maybe only on your wedding day. You patted the spot next to you, signalling Jon, who was stuck on the place, eyes fixing on you too, to get closer. He went to approach you, but Ghost, who had been waiting outside with Jon, was faster and swiftly jumped into the spot next to you.

“Ghost!” Jon scolded the wolf. He knew, deep down, that the wolf wouldn’t hurt the baby, but Ghost still didn’t know that the baby was a member of their family. However, Y/N was sure that the wolf was smarter than they thought, and it was confirmed when the animal softly licked the baby’s forehead and moved aside, his head resting at your feet.

Jon didn’t lose any time and took the spot Ghost had left. He sat next to you, eyes wide open looking quite bewildered. There seemed to be thousands of questions going through his mind, so you decided to answer a few before he could ask them.

“It’s a boy. The maester says he’s very healthy, and that the birth went on with no complications.”

He nodded his head. His eyes wouldn’t leave his son, who seemed to be sleeping on his mother’s arms. He had thought he was going to be bigger, but he was surprisingly small. Jon’s eyes widened when you raised your son towards him.

“I’m not sure—”

“You’re his father. You’re going to have to hold him at some point.”

He extended his arms, and you helped him place the baby correctly on his arms. Once he knew how to do it, it seemed fairly easy for him. Without raising his eyes from his son, he asked: “How are you doing? Did it hurt a lot? Are you okay now?”

You smiled sweetly at his words. Even when he was obviously starstruck at the baby in his arms, part of his mind was still with you.

“I’m fine. A little bit sore and quite tired, but overall fine.”

He nodded, and whether it was because of being passed from a pair of arms to another, or because of the noise, your son opened his arms to stare at the new person holding him. He eyed his father curiously with his big grey eyes. Jon swallowed the lump on his throat and his eyes watered. The baby yawned and closed his eyes again.

“Have you chosen a name?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I thought you might want to name him after your father.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, stroking his son’s cheek, but finally shook his head from left to right. “Maybe… the next one.” He smirked and you could only roll your eyes.

“The next one? We’ll talk about that.”

He laughed and continued talking. “I’d actually like to name him Robb, if that’s okay with you.”

You smiled sweetly at him, kissing his cheek. “Of course it’s fine, love. I like the name.”

“Then it’s settled.” And the day and night went by with you both staring at little Robb, the new love of your life.


Sierra Nevada “Snow Wit”

86 B+

Snow Wit is a “White IPA” brewed with an addition of Belgian yeast, spiced with coriander and lemon peel. This belongs to a mix-pack called “4-Way,” which contains three fusion IPA’s in addition to Torpedo. Aromas predominantly focus on the sour, citric end of the hop scale with notes reminiscent of lemon. Malts come across like yeasty sourdough and saltine crackers. Grass, flowers, and herbs rest below. Yeast adds hints of banana with a trace of coriander.

The palate begins dry and sour with a crisp, biscuit-flavored malt, quickly consumed by a white sugar sweetness (crystal malt). Suddenly, citrus approaches like bitter orange rind, followed by an highlight of lemon on the upper register. Suggestions of star fruit fill the middle. Herbal hops gently wind down with flavors of earth and grass, carrying soft bitterness with a discrete 40 IBU’s (international bitterness units). The mouthfeel is smooth, crisp, and semi-dry over a medium-light body.

This is a relatively new fusion style akin to the Belgian IPA. Obviously, a White IPA has a greater abundance of hops, and less emphasis on yeast. The balance is out of whack, where sourness takes the lead, followed by sweetness, and bitterness shuffles in last. This was probably the most interesting selection in the mix pack, in part due to the yeast. To be honest, if this were sold individually, it’s highly unlikely I would buy it. If you’re an IPA fan, this mix-pack is still worth checking out. I recommend it.

Known Hops: Summit, “experimental dwarf hops”

Known Malts: Two-row Pale, Wheat, Unmalted Wheat, Acidulated


40 IBU

Chico, California

L.A & Blankets.

Authors Note: I don’t even know where I was leading with, but here is a short little prompt.

Based on #40  "You’re a blanket hog,“ from the OPT Drabble Challenge — Found HERE

You can find my Blurbs HERE

To Enter to win tickets for Harry Styles IN Nashville TN, HERE

Your wrap your arms around you as your eyes witness the snow forming a white blanket over the backyard, the lights beginning to flicker, instantly causing your attention.

You look over towards Harry taking up the whole couch, sprawled out on his back, the thickest blanket draped over him, his eyes glued to the television. “Fuck, no— damn it.” He huffs as the signal becomes insufficient, disturbing some sporting thing he has been waiting to watch, he has been more excited about the damn game than anything else.

You sigh as the power goes out, Harry huffing the moment the television turns black. “Damn weather.” He continues to mumble, bitter with the fact he can’t conclude the game. He forces himself off the couch, finally taking notice of you and wandering over to you,

“Ah, you finally remembered me.” You comment, rubbing your hands over your arms, the coldness already getting to you.

He rolls his eyes at you before shrugging, “Yeh know I love you.”

“Mhm. It is fucking freezing.” You pout your lips, shuffling closer to him and burying yourself into him. He wraps his arms around you, empowering you to indulge in his body warmth, managing to hum a sweet tune as you stay embraced within his loving arms.

“You know.. Ye’ wouldn’t be cold if we had of moved to L.A.” He comments, forcing a groan to leave your lips as you break the embrace, stepping away from him. “What?” He shrugs his shoulders back, “Just stating the obvious. Not nearly as cold over there.” He presses, furthermore determined that migrating to Las Angeles is a valid thing for the two of you — mainly for him if he is being honest.

You sigh as you glance into his eyes, shaking your head at him, “You said you would stop bringing up.” You cross your arms over your chest, a little annoyed that he keeps bringing it up.

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               Gendry wasn’t quite sure when she started to become the focal point in his dreams again. Somehow in the past few months she came up like a phantom. He had always had her in the back of his mind, since he was sold to the Red Wench by the brotherhood.

               At first, she was the only positive thought on his mind. But, after his aided escape the thought of her – her steel gray eyes, her short brown hair, her un-lady like being – had been pushed back. In her place were thoughts of survival and an attempt to move on from his past.

               She had laid dormant for nearly two and a half years, until recently when he began hearing whispers about a young woman slaying highborn leaders. One being Walder Frey, a man who had murdered Catelyn and Robb stark in cold blood. Gendry was certain that this Lord would have made it onto her Deadpool.

               He often found himself curious about how she was. What would she look like? Was she the same blunt girl he had met years ago, traveling to the wall on the king’s road. He had a feeling that she had grown to be much more than that.

               Gendry was now with a guild of traveling merchants. Selling blunt weaponry to small village residents as means of security through the long winter. They were nearly to Winterfell when it started to snow. He had never witnessed a snow fall in all his nineteen years. Like her, it was breathe-taking. Like magic was falling from the sky.

               Would he see her again? The little wolf with the heart and mind of iron? Her soul molded in vengeance. Did he even want to see her again? To feel the same feelings, he felt when he was but a boy? Feelings of hope, safety, protective, fondness, and even affection. She was the only person he had ever met that he gave a damb about. Before the road and after. Just her. Only her. He knew who his father was, he could care less. All his half siblings were presumed dead in their slaughter. Tomen was the only highborn brother he had left. Though he had heard the rumors about the young king’s parentage. Gendry didn’t care one way or the other.

               He was used and abused his whole life, he was accustomed to it. He told himself never to get attached. Because nothing was permanent. Everyone lies, everyone cheats, everyone dies. And not a single soul had proved him wrong.

Except Arya Stark.

Carry On cooking show entitled “Curry On” AU

Baz as the chef

Penny is the commentator or something

Simon as that fail assistant but is so cute so everyone loves him; taste tester

Special segment of Ebb showing some trivias or how to raise your cattle properly

Special segment of Mordelia showing their family’s garden and Baz’s small greenhouse filled with basil

;;;;Watford as a famous culinary school where Baz graduated first in his whole batch

A Smile on His Scarred Lips

The “Oh no we’re stuck in a snow storm and I’m cold” trope is actually one of my fave tropes.

Read on AO3

“Andraste’s tits must be frozen out there just like mine are,” Dorian complained, too cold to even shiver. He was eyeing the small hunting cabin they had taken refuge in. Cullen closed the door behind them and made sure the wind wouldn’t push it open.

“There must be dry wood in here, I’ll make a fire.” He turned to Dorian, faltered at his cocked eyebrow. “Or I’ll assemble the wood and you start the fire.”

“Thank you, dear Commander, for remembering my magical talents.”

Cullen rolled his eyes, used to Dorian’s antics, and set to prepare the small fireplace before they both froze in place. He had only started to feel alarmingly cold, but Dorian hadn’t been prepared at all for the snowstorm, and he wasn’t about to let him suffer longer than he needed to.

The small house was well equipped, the bed had a warm-looking fur on top with thick blankets in the cupboard when he checked.

“There’s food in the pantry, do you think they’ll mind if we eat some?”

Cullen began piling wood in the fireplace. “We’ll leave them coins. The fire is ready to be started.”

Dorian joined him, unable to hide how unwell he felt when he crouched beside him but instead almost falling over because his legs were so stiff. He grunted and managed to stay upright before Cullen could help him. “You mean you’ll leave the coins, it appears I forgot to make my money pouch for this training excursion.”

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Summary: It’s your first time experiencing snow and Lin has some definite plans for you. 

Author’s Note: Okay, here comes admission time: I have never even seen snow. I’ve grown up in the South for my entire life and the only way I’ve witnessed snow is through movies, photos, and weather reports. So, please, bear with me as it is hard to describe and I also have no idea how sledding works. 

So, this could not have been completed without the help of my resident winter experts: @tempfixeliza and @strongenoughfoundation ♥♥ 

Words: 2,549 

Warnings: fluff so sweet you’ll get a toothache, no real-life knowledge of snow or sledding, horribly (?) written kiss scenes 

So, here we go with the snow day fic I’ve been promising you all for two days! 

When you woke in the morning, you were acutely aware of the chill you vaguely felt from the world outside. Deciding it wouldn’t be worth your time to get out of bed when temperatures were below freezing on a weekend, you snuggled deeper into the covers, tugging one of your blankets up to your chin. This kind of peace only lasted a few hushed minutes before you heard your boyfriend barreling into your bedroom. It was only then you realized he hadn’t been in bed beside you. You rolled your eyes, an annoyed smile appearing on your face as he ran straight to the bed and jumped into it. You pretended to be asleep, squeezing your eyes shut tighter, as he pulled his body over to you. You could just picture the goofy smile that his face undoubtedly held and resisted the urge to peak your eyes open to see the picture of innocence and delight he would most definitely portray. When you felt him pull you closer, his hands icier than you had expected, you also felt a shiver run down your spine. He took this as sign that you were awake.

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Don't Give Up

Imagine: JojenxReader

Requested: Yessss

Plot: The reader has the greensight as well, and she sees a rather disturbing vision, which saves Jojen, but puts her in danger (with fluff)

It was a vision. That much you were sure of, seeing as you had the greensight, just like Bran, just like Jojen, the boy you secretly loved. You felt your muscles lock into place, and you were frozen in time. This was what always happened in your visions; unlike Jojen, you didn’t have seizures. You simply immobilized. You were a ghost in your own vision; you couldn’t alter them, or even take part in them. This time, you were in a snowy valley-esk place. And directly before you, on top of a hill, stood a Godswood; the biggest one you’ve ever seen. But it was what happened next that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

“Jojen! Jojen, look! We’ve made it!” You heard a familiar voice call. You spun around in place, to see Bran in his sleigh, being pulled by Hodor, and Meera supporting a very sick-looking Jojen. You gasped, your heart being struck with a flash of pain at the thought of Jojen being that sick. He was already in a very bad condition, so you could only imagine what would happen if he got any worse. That’s when you got a bad feeling about this particular vision. You saw Bran, Hodor, Meera, and Jojen walking towards a cave of sorts directly underneath the huge tree, when suddenly, a rotting hand burst out of the snow, before grabbing Jojen’s ankles, tripping him, and dragging him backwards. “JOJEN!” You heard Meera scream as she ran towards him. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you witnessed them fighting off wights that popped up and out of the snow. You witnessed Bran warging into Hodor, and then Jojen getting pushed away by Meera. He tried to get up, and that’s when the wight stabbed him the first time. You let out a scream, as your heart got ripped into a thousand pieces.  You saw Meera run over, cradling her brother in her arms, as the wights burst into flames. “He is lost! Come with me, of die with him!” A little girl yelled. A child of the Woods, no doubt. “Go with them,” you heard Jojen say to Meera, and you spun around in him to see her plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, before placing the knife she had found at his throat. “NO!” You closed you eyes tightly shut, before falling to the ground, screaming in agony.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Wake up, please! Come on!” You heard somebody calling you from a distance. You jolted awake, your heart beating a thousand beats per second. You felt sweat dripping down your brow, and you looked around to see your arm was bleeding from five little crescent-shaped wounds you had no doubt created during your nightmare of a vision. You were shaking violently, and you looked up to see Jojen holding you in his arms carefully, his eyes worriedly scanning your face. “W-What happened?” You stammered, as he brushed away a single lock of your hair, which was clearly drenched in sweat, before stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. “Seven Hells, (Y/N), you were screaming bloody murder!” He said, clearly wanting an explanation. You just sighed, before sitting up slowly, your head spinning and your heart hurting, “It’s nothing. Just a nightmare.” You felt bad lying to him, but how could you possibly look at the person you loved most in the world, even if they didn’t know it, and tell them you just watched them die?

You saw in his eyes that he didn’t believe you, but you plastered a fake smile on your face, before getting up and helping Meera pack up. “I have a feeling that we’re getting close to the Three-Eyed Raven,” said Bran, smiling. You saw Jojen and Meera smiling as well, so you forced yourself to copy them, to make sure they didn’t suspect anything. On the inside, you felt your heart dying piece by piece. 

After a couple hours, the group had scaled a rather large, snowy hill, and suddenly, when you reached the top, the sight you saw stopped you in your tracks, your blood frozen in your veins; it was the valley from you vision, along with the Godswood, and the cave beneath it. 

“Jojen! Jojen, look! We’ve made it!” You heard Bran shout to the boy trailing behind you. You saw him, and Meera supporting him. You felt the blood leave your face, you heart going numb. You couldn’t say anything, not yet. But the ending of the vision you had came to mind, and in that moment, you decided that you weren’t going to let Jojen die. Not today, not for as long as you lived.

About halfway through the valley, you heard the ice cracking. Suddenly, you heard Jojen yelp, and Meera scream, “JOJEN!” You quickly drew your dagger, and started fighting off the wights as best you could. The one you were currently fighting had a longsword, and it had managed to cut your arm badly. You gave out a scream, before stabbing it through the ribcage, and separating it head from the rest of its skeletal body. It fell limp, and you felt the adrenaline rushing through your veins. Suddenly, you saw Meera about to push Jojen out of the way, but you started running FAST. “MEERA, DON’T!” You screamed, just as Meera made contact with Jojen. You dove underneath him, and he landed on you, and you quickly rolled him off you, just as you felt a sharp, agonizing pain in your stomach. Then another, then another.

Yet, the agonizing scream that pierced the air wasn’t yours. It was Jojen’s. He quickly dispatched the wight that stabbed you, before cradling you in his lap, tears spilling down his face shamelessly. ‘God, (Y/N), why did you do that?! Why?!” He cried, trying to keep you awake. “I saw…..y-you died, Jojen……my vision….” you couldn’t say more, since the pain in your the stomach was agonizing, and it was sapping your life force. He just let out a pitiful sob, before hugging you closer to him, his lips resting by your hairline, “Don’t give up, (YN), d-don’t give up!”. You felt his tears on your skin, and you took the moment t say what you needed to before you went, “Jojen…..I-I lo-love you….” You managed to mumble, your energy sapping more than before, your eyes closing. You heard the boy’s breathing hitch, before you felt something soft brush over your lips; Jojen was kissing you. As much as you wanted to respond, you couldn’t find the energy to. But you were glad that you got to tell him you loved him. As everything was fading away, you suddenly heard, “She can be saved! Get her to safety now, or die with her!” It was the voice of the Child of the Woods. And it was the last thing you heard.

But it wasn’t. You could feel, you could hear people talking. So there was no way you were dead. You heard a soft female voice, and a weak male voice reply. You became a bit more conscious, and you could hear their conversation. “…She’s very weak, Jojen. Chances are that she will die, so don’t get your hopes up,” you heard Meera’s distinguishable voice, but she sounded sad. “You don’t get it, Meera. I love her, and she loved me too. It was the last thing she said to me. She wasn’t supposed to die in my place! She changed both her fate and mine….” You heard Jojen reply, his voice quivering. There was a silence, and in that moment, you decided to stop being rude, “I wish people would wait until I was actually dead before burying me six feet under.” You opened our eyes slowly to see Jojen and Meera standing in stunned silence, Jojen’s eyes filled with tears. ”(Y-Y/N)?” Jojen said disbelievingly, before approaching you slowly. You smiled, before trying to sit up. Only problem; you had half a dozen stab wounds in your stomach, so it was practically impossible to do that. You hissed in pain, and Jojen caught you as you fell backwards. He hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair, and you heard him mumbling, “I love you, I love you, seven hells, I love you.” You smiled, before pushing him away a bit, only to kiss him. For real this time, “I love you too.”

anonymous asked:

Killian turns out to be a really good singer and finds out he can play this strange instrument called a guitar being one-hand. He keeps practicing in secret until Emma catches him when she comes home early.

This became more captain cobra - sorry! I hope you like it.

It was Henry that had got him started on his new secret hobby.

The lad had brought the instrument home from school one day, explaining that he was learning to play it and taking lessons. 

After a few weeks of listening to him attempting to play along with the same song that played from his talking phone, Killian began to find himself memorising the words of the catchy tune.

He’d been mindlessly singing along while Henry was practising one day, too caught up in polishing his boots when the boy stopped his strumming and turned to him with a curious look.

“You know you’ve got a pretty awesome voice.”

“You think so?”

He’d found that Henry was all too eager to show him various groups (or bands he insisted calling them) performing with their instruments. And he found that he was forming a strong bond with Henry. They’d found something for just the two of them.

“Why’s he playing his guitar the wrong way around?”

“Oh. You can learn to play it left handed or right handed. Most play with their right hand though.”

Henry turned to him suddenly, excitement in his eyes.

“You could totally learn to play left handed! All your hook would need to do is brush along the strings in order to strum- here, i’ll show you.”

Henry pulled up the page called youtube where all those silly videos were kept, and started showing him various videos he called ‘tutorials’. Before the week was out, Killian was confiding in Belle and purchasing a left handed guitar that had been gathering dust on the wall of the pawn shop.

Henry, ever the helpful soul, had set up an easy way for him to access these ‘tutorials’ and Killian found himself spending hours at a time, in the comfort of the living room, learning how to play chords.

He found his wooden hand was much easier to manage when it came to strumming, and before long he was playing all basic major chords.

Henry was completely over the moon that he had someone to practice with. He showed Killian pages upon pages of chord sequences for different songs and they found there was one song in particular they loved - one they vowed to learn and play together.

It was a Thursday afternoon. Henry was off school due to a Staff development day, which meant the two of them were home alone for most of it.

They’d played a few games on the XBox and had lunch at Granny’s, but were now pulling out their guitars and were ready to practice their song.

They warmed up with a silly shanty first, getting their chord fingers nice and loose. Then they began to strum a chord pattern that had become all too familiar.

Killian felt confident in singing the words that accompanied the song, finding himself getting lost in the music. Henry joined in at the chorus, providing a wonderful backup harmony with the pirate.

They weren’t aware of the front door opening, nor were they aware of the Blonde woman that stood in the foyer, accompanied by her mother, both of them frozen with shock and awe.

The boys came to the end of their song, slowing and letting their last chords ring out into silence.

Henry noticed the two women first of all.

“Hey mom. Hey grandma.”

Killian turned, surprised to see them gaping at him and Henry. Emma’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, completely overwhelmed at what she’d witnessed. Snow wasn’t any better.

“That was… that was beautiful.” she sniffed. “When did you learn that? How did you learn that?”

“Just a little something Killian and I have been working on.” Henry beamed.

“You sneaky pair” she teased, wiping her tears and moving forward to hug them both.

“I’m so proud- you’ve stunned me.”

“That was truly wonderful.” Snow added as she took a seat opposite them. “Would you play it again?”

“Yes! I want to record it this time.” Emma insisted as she sat by her mother and pulled out her phone.

Henry and Killian smirked at each other.

“What do you say, lad. Shall we?”

“Ready when you are, captain.” 


ONCE UPON A TIME : the reboot
by drew and menelaos

season 5, episode 10 : A Stitch in Time

past : Mary Margaret and Emma return to Misthaven and learn that in their absence, High King Stefan fell ill and died and Phillip and Aurora have already been crowned king and queen. As they give their final goodbyes, Aurora whispers with glee to Mary Margaret that she is pregnant. Emma and Mary Margaret enact the time-jump using Emma’s swan necklace, and they begin to bump their way through the timeline. They witness Snow White’s birth, Mordred’s deceit, Arthur’s death, and Morgan le Fay taking him on a boat to Avalon. They see Regina crowned queen next to King Richard, Red as a young girl visiting her grandmother in the forest, young Snow witnessing her mother’s death, and Regina crowned queen again, this time next to Phillip. They begin to flash faster and faster: Snow and Charming’s famous kiss, the Dark Curse taking over the lands, Emma’s arrival in Storybrooke, Emma kissing Henry’s forehead and restoring the memories, the moment Emma and Mary Margaret jump into the time portal, and then suddenly they come to a screeching halt in the present, where they are discovered at Henry’s playground castle by park ranger Ambrose Geoffrey.

present : Cynthia and Ruby finally go on their first date, much to the delight of Granny. Evelyn, emotionally devastated by the events in the cottage, resigns her position as mayor. Regina and David make amends and bond as they reminisce over Henry’s growth – but Emma and Mary Margaret’s return interrupts the moment, and all thoughts of Regina fall away from Henry when he is reunited with his birth mother and grandmother once again. Regina is exasperated, watching everything slip from her fingers once again, and confronts the only other person who is as broken as she is: Mr. Gold. Both former villains seem to have lost their vigor and their conversation reveals that they intend to take vastly different paths in order to find it again…

‘once upon a time’ stars : Charlize Theron as the Evil Queen/Regina Mills, Emily Rose as Emma Swan, Jaimie Alexander as Snow White/Mary Margaret Blanchard, Henry Cavill as Prince Charming/David Nolan, Cate Blanchett as the Blue Fairy/Evelyn Oxford, Daniel Gillies as Peter Pan/Dr. Matthew Llewelyn, Corey Stoll as Baelfire/Nathaniel Thorn, Meghan Ory as Red Riding Hood/Ruby Connor, Sonequa Martin-Green as Cynthia Fogg, CJ Adams as Henry Mills, and Robert Carlyle as Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold

recurring stars this season include : Olivia Cheng as Mulan, Bradley James as Phillip, Rebecca Ferguson as Aurora, Adetomiwa Edun as Lancelot du Lac, Eva Green as Morgan le Fay

guest stars include : Nikolaj Coster-Waldau as King Arthur, Ruth Negga as Queen Guinevere, Gwendoline Christie as Percival, Tom Felton as Mordred, Morgan Freeman as Merlin/Ambrose Geoffrey, Beverly Elliot as Widow Lucas/Helen Connor

[ previously on once upon a time ]

Sentence Drabble #3 | Tadashi Hamada x Reader |

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba- God dammit.” @magical-imagines-and-fluffy-fics

It was snowing in San Fransokyo. It was a rare occurrence, indeed. Tadashi could hardly remember the last time the cold particles bad stuck to the normally warm, hard pavement. Hiro was young, that was for sure. Not that Tadashi himself was all that old at the time. About thirteen years old, he concluded.

He was now twenty-nine (almost thirty, as his children liked to tease) and watched from the window above the kitchen sink as the snow piled up on his lawn and just about everywhere else. He sipped on a cup of warm tea, though with all the papers he had to grade as a professor at SFIT, he was starting to itch more and more towards the coffee pot to his right.

His children had been put in bed hours ago. They’d never witnessed snow before and he was excited to see their reactions to the intriguing fluffy white experience. Tadashi himself couldn’t wait to play in it. He’d shovel the driveway first, of course, but after that, he’d probably have Hiro and Aunt Cass come over to enjoy the snow and then have some dinner as a family. He’d have to clear it with his wife first, but he knew she wouldn’t mind.

He grinned as two warm, soft arms enveloped him from behind. Your hands clasped together across his abdomen and he placed his free hand on top of yours, shivering a bit as you placed a kiss in between his shoulder blades.

Tadashi turned in your arms and leaned down to kiss you, “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

You shrugged, “Saw snow, got excited.”

He chuckled and rubbed your back, “Can’t say I blame you. The kids are gonna have a blast.”

“Hell, you and Hiro will too.”

“Oh don’t act like you won’t be out there.”

“I will, for a little while. I’ll probably get tired soon and sit on the porch with Cass most of the day.”

“No one’s judging, babe.” He said with a kiss to your temple. He looked behind him slightly to set down his mug and caress your swollen stomach with both of his hands.

“It’s too bad this little one won’t get to see the snow.”

“Maybe someday she will.”

“Maybe…” Tadashi wrapped his arms around you snugly, humming lightly.

“Wanna go outside?” You asked with a slightly mischievous grin.

“Can’t…” He muttered, “I’ve got papers to grade.”

“School will be out tomorrow; you can come on outside.”

“Then I’ll have to grade them tomorrow…”

“I think it’s worth it.”

“You make a compelling argument.”

“Five minutes, then we come inside and you can finish up and come to bed. Sound good?”

“Sounds amazing.”

Tadashi left a kiss on your lips and ushered you to the coat closet. He made sure you were buttoned up to go out into the chilly weather before he even considered putting on his jacket and a beanie.

“Turns out slippers do come in handy.” He commented as you both stepped foot outside your house.

“I told you so.”

He cracked another smile and watched the snow fall. He was mesmerized as he witnessed a snowflake melt on his bare hand. He and his students would definitely be having a conversation about snow once school was open again.

Of course, as he considered the things his students would say about the snow, he didn’t notice his sneaky little wife doing her sneaky little thing.


“Tadashi!” You suddenly chanted.

He looked over with what was at first a grin, but then a look of terror, “Don’t you dare throw that snowba- God dammit.”

You laughed and clutched your sides as you did, Tadashi shaking his head and wiping the snow from his burgundy robe.

“You’re lucky we’ve got baby number three on the way, otherwise I’d get you back.”

You merely giggled and brushed some snow from his hair, “Next time it snows, go ahead and deliver the first blow.”

He chuckled and took you back inside, skipping the grading and going straight to bed, a blissful smile on his face. He wouldn’t trade his life for anything, because he had it pretty damn good.

And just as an added bonus, little Midori was eight months old the next time it snowed, and she looked damn adorable playing with her older sister and brother.

A damn good life…

And yes, Tadashi delivered the first snowball of the day, right in your face.

*~ Believe in Magic ~* (ch.6)

- 6 -
1000 Year Old Talking Books and New Snow Boots.

The snow kept falling and piling up in what soon became ammunition for more snow fights as the days progressed. Snow fights Harry witnessed from his balcony when he allowed himself short tea breaks from studying.

His exam was coming up and he had kept his promise to lock himself in his apartment with no distractions. The thousand year old books soon stopped talking about burgundy which helped him to relax a lot, and his growth potion had worked on two of his winter flowers. He felt like he was ready to take his exam and ace it. It seemed like ages since Harry felt like his plans actually worked out for him, and it was a lovely feeling.

Only one thing was failing…

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[DRABBLE] Boyfriend!Jeonghan (G)

Requested by: @jeonghanlife
Prompt: Jeonghan Christmas winter scenario
Word Count: 1,908
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None!

A/N: WHOO IM ON A ROLL WITH THESE REQUESTS (I can only hope that my drive doesn’t crash and burn anytime soon) Okay, I know Christmas is WAY over, so I changed the request a little (I am so sorry ;;). But I still hope that this drabble manages to encapsulate the same magical feeling. I’m really new to this whole winter stuff *glares at the temperature which peaked at literally 34 degrees Celcius today wowilovesingapore* 

Please enjoy it ^^


Originally posted by jihanlife

*highpitchedscreeching* BYEOBEETCHINAERINDA SHYAALAALALAALALLAALLAAAAAA cough sorry ok on with the story

You find yourself stirring awake after lingering in the abyss of sleep, and your eyes flutter open to unfamiliar surroundings. This isn’t your room, is it?

But a low rumble of a snore reminds you that you’re in Jeonghan’s apartment, cozily tucked in his bed despite the day being well into the afternoon. When the temperature had dropped to the negatives on the day you were planning to go sightseeing, and with your body not being very accustomed to cold weather having lived in the tropical regions of Australia for most of your life, Jeonghan was more than happy to call it quits. As a result, his more-than-happy declaration of “Today will be a lazy day” was what you went with eventually.

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You know what I would love?

Right after this, right after they witness Snow and Charming fall in love, they sit back with a giant sigh of relief that we did it

And then they both just start stupidly grinning at one another, and in that moment, Emma is just so happy and relieved and centered, as if going through all of this finally made that puzzle piece snap into place…that she didn’t really realize her home was right in front of her all along until it almost wasn’t. Until it was almost all erased.

And as she looks at Killian, the man who is always by her side, who literally follows her across realms to make sure she’s safe and happy with the people she loves, she just knows

She loves him. She’s always loved him. 

And riding on that feeling, well, all of the feelings erupting inside of her, she grins and grabs, crashing her lips to his.

Warm lights and winds explode around them, and suddenly they’re standing in front of Granny’s, still clinging to each other. 

And everything is right and as it should be.

And Emma smiles at him, no longer scared, and grabs his hand and they head into the diner.



Twas the night before Christmas an’ all t'ru de house,
Dey don’t a ting pass Not even a mouse.
De chirren been nezzle good snug on de flo’,
An’ Mama pass de pepper t'ru de crack on de do’.

De Mama in de fireplace done roas’ up de ham,
Sit up de gumbo an’ make de bake yam.
Den out on de by-you dey got such a clatter,
Make soun’ like old Boudreau done fall off his ladder.

I run like a rabbit to got to de do’,
Trip over de dorg an’ fall on de flo’.
As I look out de do'in de light o’ de moon,
I t'ink, “Mahn, you crazy or got ol’ too soon.”

Cux dere on de by-you w'en I stretch ma'neck stiff,
Dere’s eight alligator a pullin’ de skiff.
An’ a little fat drover wit’ a long pole-ing stick,
I know r'at away got to be ole St.Nick.

Mo’ fas'er an’ fas'er de’ gator dey came
He whistle an’ holler an’ call dem by name:
“Ha, Gaston! Ha, Tiboy! Ha, Pierre an’ Alcee’!
Gee, Ninette! Gee, Suzette! Celeste an'Renee’!

To de top o’ de porch to de top o’ de wall,
Make crawl, alligator, an’ be sho’ you don’ fall.”
Like Tante Flo’s cat t'ru de treetop he fly,
W'en de big ole houn’ dorg come a run hisse’s by.

Like dat up de porch dem ole ‘gator clim!
Wit’ de skiff full o’ toy an’ St. Nicklus behin’.
Den on top de porch roof it soun’ like de hail,
W'en all dem big gator, done sot down dey tail.

Den down de chimney I yell wit’ a bam,
An’ St.Nicklus fall an’ sit on de yam.
“Sacre!” he axclaim, “Ma pant got a hole
I done sot ma'se'f on dem red hot coal.”

He got on his foots an’ jump like de cat
Out to de flo’ where he lan’ wit’ a SPLAT!
He was dress in musk-rat from his head to his foot,
An’ his clothes is all dirty wit’ ashes an’ soot.

A sack full o’ playt'ing he t'row on his back,
He look like a burglar an’ dass fo’ a fack.
His eyes how dey shine his dimple, how merry!
Maybe he been drink de wine from de blackberry.

His cheek was like a rose his nose a cherry,
On secon’ t'ought maybe he lap up de sherry.
Wit’ snow-white chin whisker an’ quiverin’ belly,
He shook w'en he laugh like de stromberry jelly!

But a wink in his eye an’ a shook o’ his head,
Make my confi-dence dat I don’t got to be scared.
He don’ do no talkin’ gone strit to hi work,
Put a playt'ing in sock an’ den turn wit’ a jerk.

He put bot’ his han’ dere on top o’ his head,
Cas’ an eye on de chimney an’ den he done said:
“Wit’ all o’ dat fire an’ dem burnin’ hot flame,
Me I ain’ goin’ back by de way dat I came.”

So he run out de do’ an, he clim’ to de roof,
He ain’ no fool, him for to make one more goof.
He jump in his skiff an’ crack his big whip,
De’ gator move down, An don’ make one slip.

This plays on the radio at least one a week in December.