#and we went on a road trip through this beautiful autumn forest

[stardust948]

Ever wake up from a dream that left you warm and fuzzy inside?

[swords-and-starlight]

I grew up in North Carolina. I lived in the suburbs near Raleigh, and literally my best memories are from there. I spent my childhood hiking in the Appalachian mountains and taking road trips to Myrtle Beach (which i’m well aware is in SC ok we went to the Outer Banks too shush). growing up i idolized NC Chapel Hill University and it was my dream college since literally the day I first stepped on campus when I was 8-years-old. my parents took us on yearly road trips through the local forests and parks to see the autumn foliage. anyone who knows me knows that I talk about how much I want to move back to NC after college. It is literally the most beautiful state i’ve ever lived in and I’ve been all over the US.

For the record, Asheville is about four hours west of Raleigh, which is about central North Carolina. My heart is breaking at the thought of my childhood town being destroyed by the floods and the hurricane. But more importantly, that should tell you that almost an ENTIRE STATE (about an eight hours drive from coast to border) is being ravaged by this hurricane, and North Carolina is not a small state.

To all those people who say that Southern Americans don’t deserve to be saved because of some moral failing, I moved from North Carolina to Texas literally right after Hurricane Harvey hit. I was here during the brutal aftermath where everyone had donation pages and campaigns set up so that people had mattresses to sleep on and food to eat. I was also living right here during 2022 when we had winter storms so bad that people were freezing to death in their homes. I remember all those northern liberals with insane moral superiority complexes saying that we didn’t deserve to live because we should have elected a better governor and that the federal government shouldn’t have done anything to help because apparently we weren’t really american citizens.

I’m not gonna sit here and explain why seeing that happen was one of the most horrifying things I’ve ever seen. I’m not gonna tell you how much faith i lost in the compassion and empathy of humanity, let alone fellow liberal/leftist americans. I’m not gonna try to prove to you that people don’t deserve to die no matter what or that the majority of people who were dying were the homeless, poor, poc communities or that believe it or not, queer, disabled, people of color live in the South (for example, me, a queer Indian-American girl).

I’m just gonna say, don’t let this happen to the people in North Carolina. Don’t You Dare.

fuck it since my birthday is in like one day i'm gonna use my birthday wish to tell y'all to look at the shit going on in southern Appalachia right now after Hurricane Helene. look at it and talk about it and spread resources about it like wildfire because nobody else fucking is and it feels like we're on our own out here.

there are people who are stranded in hazardous areas that are still safer than trying to leave by driving on the increasingly hazardous roads. i'm personally going into my third day without electricity at this point, and haven't been able to get any gas for a generator to even keep our fridge working. there are very few places with power or running water, and cell service has just barely been restored in the last hour. ground crews are working hard to repair things, but there are many, many areas that are entirely inaccessible that may not receive these fixes for several more days if not weeks. i'm afraid my own neighborhood might become one of those areas if repairs don't get to us soon, and since we're much more rural i have a difficult time trying to be optimistic about it.

we're very far inland. i guarantee you damn near everybody here was expecting a little more rain and wind like we usually get during hurricane season, if they even heard about the hurricane beforehand in the first place since most people only got about a twelve hour notice before landfall- after several major areas had already been flooded. our terrain protects us from most major weather events- most locals have never encountered a single tornado or legitimate tornado warning in our entire lives. nobody i've talked to or heard from about it seems to have had any idea that it would be this bad. everybody's wishing that they took it more seriously, but we've never, ever had to before. i've seen people comparing it to Hurricane Katrina and honestly i'm not sure if that's all too inaccurate. today while looking for a single working gas station i drove by a military helicopter parked in front of the elementary school i went to when i was little.

please for the love of god, talk about us. talk about the good memories you had here or the beauty of our mountains, and talk about how devastated we are as we watch historic structures, buildings, and entire towns get wiped from the face of the earth like they were never even there. stop dismissing us as uneducated hicks and rednecks and hilllbillies and fucking help us.

r/Asheville resource/updates megathread (Asheville is the largest city in western North Carolina)

How to set up disaster roaming for cell service

WLOS Live updates

Duke Energy power outage map

WNC Landslide Map

Hotels accepting locals

Emergency shelter locations

I live in western North Carolina so all of my own resources are centered around that. If anybody from the other impacted areas has additional sources they'd like to add, please don't hesitate to do so.

[jmreyes9]

A UNIQUE  “WATERFALLS” EXPERIENCE NEAR PORTLAND, 

OREGON

By Jesse Reyes 

We had the privilege of seeing a magnificent place—the Silver Falls State Park near Portland, Oregon.  Nestled in the foothills of Oregon’s Cascade Mountains, it is the largest state park in Oregon, and one of the most popular.  The sprawling 9,200 acre property is less than an hour’s drive east of Salem, Oregon’s state capital.

This lovely place is reminiscent of the place in the Cottian Alps of Northern Italy where the Waldenses practiced and protected the true faith of their predecessors, the apostles.  Kathy Demsky in her article, “Faith in the Wilderness” published in the Lake Union Herald in October of 2017, stated that “the light they (the Waldenses) preserved was seized upon by Luther and his contemporaries, and held up as the object of religious reform.”

Our gracious hosts, Dr. Frank and Maylin Warda of Happy Valley, Oregon, just outside Portland, took us to this awe-inspiring place, considered by many to be the “crown jewel” of the Oregon State Parks system.  We drove in a caravan of three cars—all of us members of Hinsdale Fil-am Church except for one lady, a former Hinsdale Fil-am Church member, now transplanted in Florida.

It was about an hour-and-a-half drive to Silverton, Oregon from the Warda’s lovely home.  We left at about half-past-three or was it later?  On the way, we passed by rural highways, some of which were lined by endless vineyards as well as lofty, straight-trunked conifers.  We had to negotiate some winding roads and hairpin turns going up the mountain until we reached the park.

Before we reached the main campsite, we stopped at a scenic spot where we viewed a small waterfall (it seemed small from a distance) and we had a group picture there.  There was a slight drizzle as we scurried from our cars to have a quick photo and have a brief peek at the beautiful waterfalls.

We continued driving, passing a large herd of deer, which crossed the road and ran toward an open field. We reached the parking area of the Silver Falls State Park and went for a hike along the Trail of Ten Falls, named for the ten waterfalls that one can see when hiking on this trail, a spectacular, nationally recognized hiking trail that weaves through a dense forested landscape. The trail passes a series of breathtaking waterfalls along a rocky canyon, and descends to a winding creek at the forest floor.

The ground was slightly wet from an earlier rain.  The trail snaked its way around some ridges and lofty towering trees, ascending and descending in some areas.  The leaves of some trees had changed to gold and brown on this early autumn day.

After we had hiked about half a mile (or so it seemed), suddenly a  narrow column of a waterfalls came into view.  At first we could only see its top half but then as we looked down the precipice, we saw the basin where the column of water fell.  The South Falls was beautiful, resplendent in all its glory, like a “bride all dressed in white”.

This was as far as most of us would go, the only waterfalls out of the ten in this trail that we had time to see.  And besides, if we went any further, it would be dark by the time we hiked back.  The slightly difficult hike (at least for a senior like me!) was worth it.  We had a group picture and individual pictures with the South Falls as the backdrop.

Some people descended into an area with a small bridge where one had a different perspective of the South Waterfalls.  As one passes the South Falls from behind, one sees a 177-foot white curtain.  It is rare that one can walk behind the back of a waterfalls.

This was certainly a great adventure in nature—enjoying God’s beautiful creation—one of the more memorable sightseeing trips for many of us.

The psalmist David reminds us in Psalm 104, ESV: "Bless the Lord, O my soul! O Lord my God, you are very great! You are clothed with splendor and majesty, covering yourself with light as with a garment, stretching out the heavens like a tent. He lays the beams of his chambers on the waters; he makes the clouds his chariot; he rides on the wings of the wind; he makes his messengers winds, his ministers a flaming fire. He set the earth on its foundations, so that it should never be moved.”

Written on 10/12/17 in Chicago, IL.  Other writings and poems of Jesse Reyes can be found in his blog: anadventurecalledlife.com.  Posted in FB 10/23.

[nataywrites]

Beautiful Kentucky, musings on the human/nature relationship

When we were on our trip, dear reader, one of the places that really struck me was Kentucky. I've never seen soil so red with clay, nor as saturated with water. It was so soaked that water leaked out and painted the lichen-speckled rocks to the point that it looked as if it had just rained. And the humidity! In terms of density, water is denser than air, but the atmosphere there seemed to be at the transition point between air and water as if I was walking into a suspended sea of droplets. I could have cut it with a knife, my friend.

The forests in Kentucky are thicker than those I have experienced up here, as if every plant lucky enough to catch a glimmer of sunlight is suddenly fighting, root and twig, to get more than their neighbor. Rabid. The floor of the forest is dark, with the rare dappling of the sun through the radiant green canopy, giving merry sap-colored freckles to anything lucky enough to be present below.

Then there are the hills and mountains. Dark and fluffy with trees and only the occasional bare patch, where one can see the ancient and beautiful rocks that give the formation it's shape and substance. If the Dwarves of Middle Earth were real, they would love the foothills and mountains of Appalachia. They would probably also take offense to how our roads traverse them. In order to make the straightest road, we sheared away entire hillsides. The layers of the Earth are laid bare on the roadsides, with great, man-made scars in methodical patterns etched vertically and horizontally like graffiti over the geological record of the land. Scars made from carving away rocks for a flatter, more even road for the convenience of man. Imagine the amount of work that entailed. Imagine the low drone and roar of the machines and the sweat of the workers, the cuts and bruises on their hands and their aching shoulders. The workers needed work, and capitalism needed more efficient ways for trucks to drive across the land.

When people think of the most dangerous animal on earth, they think of lions, tigers, and bears. But, oh my! Do they think of humans? No. We made the machines. We worked other people to the bone. And now there is a road where a hill once lived. It probably had a name, but we'll never know it now. Don't get me wrong, I love convenience. I also love natural beauty.

You may be asking, "Natay, what kind of point are you trying to make?" I am too. I guess I just wish we had a bit more care for the world around us. After all, we aren't the only occupants on this planet. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all went outside and beheld the beauty? Right now I'm sitting on the front lawn (the English call their lawns 'gardens,' and I think I fancy that more). Lily is out here too, each of us girls with her water and a comfy spot. Her favorite place is at the base of the great elm that sits just outside our window, and I must confess that it is my favorite too. Here, we can watch the mashed potato clouds float above in the azure sky. The buzz of a cicada is droning in the background as the breeze plays with the leaves of the trees. Everything is green for now, though the beautiful autumn is beginning to make her promises of cool weather and painterly colors. What if you sat here with me? Let's listen to the birds, crickets, and cicadas. Let's think of what this place would look like if we held animals and nature on equal footing as our own. I've got a chair with your name on it, friend.

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 2 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As it turned out, 'secluded cabin' was a pretty accurate statement.

Hawks had arranged for a very discreet hero taxi service to drive you the 5-hour trip from Musutafu to a quaint mountainous village that was so small and quiet, you almost doubted it was even on the map.

Past the snowy village, through the winding roads and towering trees, over a bridge, past a frozen lake, and then some miles off the main road, tucked away in a small clearing, was a beautiful cabin.

While the days were steadily growing warmer as spring rapidly approached, it still snowed at night. The snow had melted off the trees from the warmth of the midday sun; but, there was still a light blanket of white on the rooftop and across the surrounding grounds.

There were no poles lining the street, nothing that could bring electricity to the house; however, you could see what was likely a generator tucked away in the back. Someone had propped the cover off and cleaned out the snow.

At that sight, it became obvious that Hawks had beat you here. He already taken to clearing the snow out of the entry way as well, exposing a beautiful cobblestone pathway.

You exited the vehicle and retrieved your bags from the trunk. The very second you closed the hatch, the driver made a speedy exit, wheels skidding in the snow as they backed out before doing a sharp U-turn and barreling down the road.

Luckily, the entrance to the cabin opened before you could worry that you had just been abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough, Hawks stepped out, wild blonde locks brushed back, a little fluffier than usual due to the change in humidity.

Despite how cold it was, he was wearing a black tank top and loose, light grey sweat pants. He even stepped out onto the cold stone pathway with bare feet. Yet, with a light flush to his skin, he didn't look cold at all.

You had been making a face when he approached, and he offered an explanation, uttering, "I told 'em not to linger. It's suspicious."

Some large plumes departed his wingspan and grabbed at your luggage, one even pulling your shoulder bag off your back. They whipped away, bags in tow, and zipped past Hawks and through the doorway, disappearing into the cabin.

The winged hero didn't immediately usher you inside, as he usually did in these types of situations, but arched over you suddenly, arms bringing you into a tight embrace while his lips captured yours.

The sudden closeness forced your back to arch. Unconsciously, your hands fell onto his barely clothed shoulders, and you felt how warm he was. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was running a fever.

The kiss was brief, but uncharacteristically messy, not that you were complaining. It was a kiss of longing, like he had missed you dearly, as if it had been months and not a day and a half.

He pulled back, a distant, albeit blissful, look on his face. His eyelids sagged as if he was tired, but the gold of his iris was bright and his pupils were focused.

"I didn't get to clean yet, but - ugh - do you wanna see inside?" he asked, some slight nervousness to his tone.

"Yeah," you breathed.

Hawks stepped aside and you gently brushed past him and stepped inside. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet as you crossed the threshold. Immediately, you were hit with a wonderful scent, earthy, like tree bark, but sweet, like raw honey.

It was a decent sized cabin, spacious and not heavily furnished. The kitchen was on the small side, but seemingly to accommodate a larger living room.

As Hawks had warned, there was a thin layer of dust all across the wood floors. The furniture was covered by clear tarps, shielding them from the debris.

The dining area tucked away in the corner had a chabudai in place of a western style table. It was small and clearly only intended for two people. You had a feeling it was new, considering how spotless it looked compared to the rest of the cabin.

A huge, stone fireplace rested against the north wall, surrounded by large windows that gave a beautiful view of the outside. They were adorned with heavy curtains, pulled back to let the sunlight in.

Hawks was lingering, following close, staring down at you as you walked around and took in the sight of the place. When your eyes landed on him, and you caught his unblinking stare, you realized he was awaiting feedback.

It startled you a little, for Hawks wasn't the kind to fuss over these sorts of things; but, you had a decent enough understanding of what a rut was to know what was going through his head.

"Relax, birdbrain," you cooed, reaching up to tap gently at his cheek with a closed palm. That seemed to knock him out of his stupor, for he blinked and suddenly looked sheepish. He flickered his gold eyes away, as if to give you space.

"I love it," you praised, looking back into the living area. "Cozy, and smells nice."

You heard him exhale a relieved sigh through his nostrils.

"We should get to work. Where's the cleaning stuff?" you asked, peeling your jacket off.

"Oh. I'll-" he began.

"You'll let me help," you interrupted him gently.

When you turned back to face him, and saw the bewildered expression he was wearing, you wondered if maybe that wasn't the right thing to fit with his current state.

"Unless that's... bad?" you offered uncertainly, shoulders sagging.

Hawks laughed suddenly at the sunken expression on your face, as if the joyous sound came sputtering out against his will.

"No," he answered softly, leaning in suddenly for another kiss, as if he couldn't help it. You didn't get a chance to kiss back before he was retreating.

"Don't change," he sighed. "I want you as you, not as my..."

"-subservient housewife?" you offered, just a little teasing.

He chuckled softly, breathing out a harsh, "fuck, no."

Hawks maneuvered around you and headed for what you guessed was a supply closet. Inside, the cleaning gear was also neatly packaged in containers and safe from dust.

It made sense, how neatly arranged everything was. Hawks was a fairly neat person; but, it was also clear that he had this whole thing down, neatly tuned and properly sorted out. He had been coming here for years, after all.

This place was special to him. That much was clear.

The two of you started to dusting and sweeping, followed by a diligent mopping, with the two of you working in tandem.

Hawks was fairly quiet during the whole ordeal, seemingly focused sternly on the task at hand. It had been his nest for years. This was hardly anything new; but, it was now going to be yours, too.

He didn't tell you that he had been worried he would react negatively to your presence. He didn't always react rationally during this time. Seemingly average things would sometimes irritate him, and a part of the possessive onslaught included this abode.

Fortunately, that hadn't been the case. Cleaning the cabin with you was soothing. He wasn't unaware of the obvious implication: that you were preparing a nest together, your shared nest. He didn't say it aloud, but you had come to that realization, as well.

It had actually calmed him quite a bit. He had been on edge before you arrived, skin prickled with heat and sweating unreasonably considering the cold. Those weren't abnormal during his ruts; but, it felt intensified with that knowledge that you were going to be here.

Darkness swept across the forest as the hours dragged on. Luckily, you were just about finished by the time it got dark.

There was a neat stack of firewood arranged on a carrier near the fireplace, making you wonder if that was what he had worked on before your arrival. The logs looked freshly cut and heavy.

Crimson feathers delivered logs to the hearth. Hawks retrieved a set of matches from a cubby near the carrier and then kneeled before the hearth. He set one of the matches ablaze and carefully ignited the firewood arranged in the pit.

Warmth and light flooded the cabinet. Plumes gathered along the edges of the curtains and pulled them back, covering the windows. When they returned to his wingspan, he stepped back and monitored the fire briefly.

While cleaning, you had learned there was a cellar and partial second story, as well as an indoor bathroom. It seemed that the main use of the generator was to power the water heater and indoor plumbing.

The cellar was small, down a short flight of stairs, with concrete floors and walls, the perfect size for containing a month's worth of food and supplies, far more than was necessary for just a week.

The second story was a loft that oversaw the living room, giving a great view of the fireplace. There was no safety railing on the upstairs, likely for the very obvious fact that Hawks could fly. There was, at least, a staircase.

Upstairs, there was a large bed frame with a plush mattress, wrapped up tight to protect from dust, a large chest pressed up against the wall, and a desk without a chair.

After he removed the bed cover, you watched Hawks pull neatly folded blankets and pillow cases out the chest. It was fascinating to see someone, who normally slept wherever his body landed, so meticulously prepare the bedding: layers and layers of blankets, followed by dressing the pillows and laying them out.

It was especially perplexing because of the intense, concentrated look on his face. He had been so focused that he hadn't even realized that you had paused what you were doing to watch him.

Luckily, you caught yourself staring before he did, and shuffled back downstairs before he could notice.

A sudden howling had startled you, before a sharp wind rattled against the shutters. Something was thumping gently against the roof and when the wind picked up, you could almost hear the trees shuddering outside.

"It's snowing," Hawks observed, suddenly at your side.

You could see a glimpse of crimson in the corner of your eye, and realized he had a wing fanned out around you, not quite close enough to touch, but hovering. Maybe, he hadn't even realized he was doing that.

"Oh," you answered quietly.

Together, you prepared dinner, settling for a classic favorite of his: yakitori chicken and stir fry noodles.

Eating dinner together, and talking about nothing, made you realize, it had been the first time in a long time, if ever, that you hadn't discussed work: nothing about the agency, nothing about heroes or villains, nothing about police business or missions.

It was just senseless conversations that amounted to nothing.

The dining table was small and the floor was cold; but, your hands brushed constantly due to the lack of space. It made you realize that you had longed to have this type of moment with him, something so utterly domestic.

"I know it's not super late," Hawks began, on his way to the kitchen with the dirty plates. "But, I'm gonna wake you up early; so, let's get to bed, okay?"

His voice was soft, surprisingly drowsy, you realized, and he continued, "it's - well, there's something I wanna show you, and it looks best in the sunrise."

He had started the dishes before you could; so, you stepped in close, deciding to tease him a little.

"I bet you do look best in the sunrise," you uttered, leaning against the counter top near the sink, where he had busied his hands. He was looking away from you; but, you could see his lip twitch into a faint smile.

Hawks laughed, a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Not me," he replied softly. Yet, he found himself feeling enamored with the knowledge that that was where your mind had wandered first.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" you offered, standing upright and shifting away from the counter.

"Nah," he replied simply. "I'll join ya' in a bit."

You changed into your pajamas, brushed your teeth and pulled your hair back, before heading upstairs. Blankets and pillows were stacked high on top of the mattress, making the bedframe disappear beneath it.

It not only looked incredibly warm, but incredibly soft, and an inspection with your hand, smoothing over the surface, confirmed that. There were several pillows pressed against the headboard and even more at the foot of the bed.

If you hadn't seen him arrange it, you would have doubted it was even Hawks' bed. From the glimpses you had seen into his life, he was a minimalist.

His office at the agency was fairly large, but looked almost comical with the lack of furniture in it. He wasn't one to buy much of anything outside of perishables.

"Take those off."

You had heard that commanding tone many times before; but, in the peace and serenity of this cabin, it startled you. Your shoulders twitched a little and you turned to face him, having not heard Hawks approach.

His gold eyes were glaring at your body, shifting up to meet your gaze when you turned to face him.

You gawked back at him, dumbfounded by his boldness, and a little intrigued, if you were being honest. He had warned you about this, and you were about to comply when his dark expression suddenly softened.

"Oh fuck," Hawks blurted, embarrassment washing over his face. The intensity of the moment dissipated and you found yourself unable to hold back a faint smile at the way his face so rapidly changed from anger to shame.

"Shit - I - sorry - ugh," he stammered, some redness tinting the tops of his ears. His dominant hand came up and ruffled his hair. "That was messed up. Ah - what I mean is, can we sleep naked?"

It was clear he wasn't embarrassed about the request, but the way that he had asked. You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle at his frazzled state.

"Of course," you uttered, and began shedding your clothes.

He was staring at your nudity as if it wasn't something he had seen many times before, as if his hands and mouth hadn't explored every inch of skin, hadn't touched and claimed parts of you your own hands couldn't reach.

It made you feel powerful, beautiful.

"Did you brush your teeth?" you asked, knocking him out of his stupor.

He didn't respond, but made a face that gave you your answer. He turned away then, and hopped over the edge of the loft, floating down into the lower floor, and scurried off to the bathroom.

Promptly, you disappeared beneath the blankets, shivering from the cold, skin prickled with goosebumps. You were about to scold yourself for complying with him so eagerly, without demanding a compromise, mainly that you expected him to warm you up.

Luckily, it didn't take him long to join you, and you suddenly felt a very warm, and very naked, body slot into the space behind you, wiggling beneath the blankets. It was almost concerning how warm he was, like he had just flung himself into the hearth before running back over here.

You rolled onto your back to greet him and Hawks wasted no time slotting over you, tangling legs, arms falling on either side of your head. Wispy bangs fell over his forehead, longer strands catching on his eyebrows.

Your eyes peered over his shoulders, where you could see his wings were fanned out above him, plumes stretched wide, looming possessively. When your gaze shifted to his face, your breath hitched.

His stare was hypnotizing, as if he couldn't believe you were here, gold eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit loft.

It made you sad to think just your presence alone had pleased him so much, whereas nothing else had yet to occur. It made you think of all the years he had to endure this alone, the loneliness far more straining than the lack of a pliant body.

"Hey," he began, voice hoarse, distant.

His dominant hand shifted from the bed to cup your cheek, thumb gently prodding at your cheek bone. Just like the rest of his body, his hand was so warm.

"I know I said I wouldn't let you leave," he explained, fingers sliding carefully across your temple. "But, if you want to, at any time, I'll call the taxi and-"

You leaned up, taking his lips in a gentle kiss to silence him. He moaned into the kiss, clearly surprised by your interruption. His hand departed your face, lowering to caress the side of your neck.

When you pulled back, he chased, not letting you depart from him quite so quickly. The kiss carried on for a short while, Hawks only leaning back when he was satisfied.

"No," you disagreed in a soft hum, hands rising to push strands of his hair out of his face. "I'm not leaving. We're going through this together. Okay?"

He let out a sigh that fluttered across your cheeks. "Okay," he agreed, as if he couldn't believe it.

Hawks shifted until he was lying beside you, one arm loose around your waist. You turned a little to lay on your side and lean into him, cheek falling comfortably into the pillow beneath your head, and felt him nuzzle into your back, bringing you as close as he could without ruining your comfort.

One of his wings folded carefully over you while the other sprawled out across the bed. The light from the fire just barely reached the loft, an amber glow that flickered with the dancing flames.

The sounds of the gentle snowfall outside was a little louder upstairs. One of the nearby windows rattled softly, trembling weakly from the breeze that shook the shutters. The rafters above creaked occasionally in melodic hums.

Behind you, Hawks' chest undulated with his breathing, moving against the skin of your back. His wings shifted ever so slightly in harmony with the expansion and shrinking of his lungs. The longer plumes on the ends twitched occasionally.

"Keigo?" you whispered.

He didn't answer. Judging by the way his arm had slackened where it rested over your waist, you figured he had fallen asleep already.

The bedding was soft, and you had no doubt that he had washed them diligently; yet, mingled with the earthy tones of the cabin, they smelt like him. The hearth crackled distantly, the sound a faint echo through the cabin.

It didn't take long to slip away.

• • •

• • •

Sometime in the middle of the night, you were woken by a strange sound. In your groggy state, it sounded like a distant animal cooing into the night.

Once you properly came to, you realized the warmth against your back had retreated. The blanket had been partially ripped away in the process, leaving the skin of your back exposed to the cold air of the cabin.

What had sounded far away you now realized was coming from right behind you, pained little noises and harsh wheezing. You rolled over to take in the sight of Hawks, blindly reaching for him in a moment of panic.

Worry struck you when your skin touched his. He had already been warm to the touch before; but now, his skin felt scorching, sticky with sweat. Your hand had landed on his chest, where you could feel his muscles rapidly rising and falling with each staggering breath.

The noise that had woken you became obvious then; he was panting, sharp and labored breaths that whooshed in and out of him, occasionally accompanied with a quiet, pained sound.

He had shoved the blankets away and was laying on his back, wings tucked in uncomfortably tight beneath him. Through the faint glow of warm light from the fireplace, you could see his chest raising and falling rapidly, head tossed back, face contorted in pain. Some strands of blonde locks were clinging to the sweat soaked skin on his face.

"Keigo - Keigo," you called to him, hands rising to his shoulders so you could shake him.

It wasn't until he jerked suddenly, eyes opening and head whipping towards you, that you realized he had been sleeping. His labored breathing intensified, but only for a second, before he started to calm down.

His gold eyes were glossy for a second, staring at you blindly, before he started to wake properly. His lips were parted, sharp breaths still escaping him in harsh wisps.

"Are you okay?" you whispered harshly. "Are you sick? You look-..."

You could see a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Now, with him leaning up a little, you could see the flush of red tinting his skin, all down his chest and across his cheeks. His shoulder muscles were tight and his wings twitched helplessly beneath him.

"I'm f-fine," Hawks answered, voice low and hoarse. He swallowed roughly. "It's - it's a n-normal side effect."

"You're burning up," you hissed, hands touching his skin so carefully, like you would hurt him if you were too rough. "Are you sure you're okay?" you insisted.

"Just need-" he growled, cutting off as he tried to sit up.

His movement had repositioned your hands, causing them to drag from his shoulders to his chest, less you lose stability and collapse on top of him.

It was a familiar touch, a place you had touched him many times before; yet, he froze suddenly, gaze shifting down to your hands as if they were grounding him to this plane of existence.

Hawks' gold eyes fluttered shut and his pained expression softened. He flopped back on the bed, giving up his attempt to sit up as if he had suddenly lost all strength in his body.

Catching on, you uttered into the cold air, "is that what you need? Keigo, do you want me to-"

"Yes," he answered sharply, hissing through the cold, chilled air. He sounded relieved, thankful that you had offered before he had to ask.

"God, fuck - I - I need you, need to - to - be inside you-"

His babbling briefly ceased when you pushed the blankets off yourself and rolled on top of him, a gesture you had done many times before, now a nearly perfect art.

You watched, hypnotized as Hawks arched his back off the bed and flexed his wings until they were sprawled out on either side of him. The beautiful crimson plumes stretched out across the sheets, shuddering in faint waves that matched his heavy breathings.

In the shift, his cock became pinned against your inner thigh. If you didn't known any better, you would have thought he was prodding you with an iron rod pulled straight from the fires of a forge.

It was unbearably hot, hard as steel and painfully poking against your flesh. You could feel his heartbeat through his cock, throbbing against you as if pleading to be touched.

Arousal had never struck you this hard before, with enough force that it made your never regions throb and chest tighten. Blood rushed to your face so quickly, you briefly feared you would pass out.

Now, hovering, looking down at him, it was almost unbearable. It was clear that Hawks was in pain, and you felt a tinge of guilt at the realization that his state had aroused you.

But, the truth was, he looked stunning.

Maybe it was the red flush staining his skin, or the glisten of sweat, shiny with the reflection of the fire burning in the hearth. Maybe it was the way his gold eyes practically glowed through the darkness, staring up at you like a starving predator, glaring with dangerous intent.

Some sort of inhuman growl escaped him and Hawks grabbed at your meaty hips, roughly pulling you forward. It didn't take you long to figure out what he was doing; but, your attempts to aid were waisted, for he simply dragged you down to his liking, until the heat of your sex collided with his face ungracefully.

The first thing you registered was his mouth kissing sloppily at your sex. His tongue followed, lapping at your folds impatiently before breaching your heat. Hawks was always the kind to give sloppy oral; but, this was something else entirely.

He moaned shamelessly when his tongue registered your taste, hips rising off the bed as if attempting to chase a sensation that wasn't there.

Your hands fall onto the wall, and you tried to keep yourself up; but, he wasn't having it, growling and pulling you back down. It was difficult to not go dead weight when his tongue was lapping at your walls, mouth suctioned around your entrance like he was trying to suck juices from a ripe fruit.

One of your hands weaved through his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a praising gesture. It was difficult to get out sensible words. Instead, you moaned broken pieces of his name, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

You had no idea how much time had passed before he seemed satisfied and finally lifted you up enough to remove his mouth. The wet gasp that escaped him, suggesting he had been holding his breath, riddled you with shameful lust.

"You made a mess," Hawks observed deliriously.

He sounded immensely pleased with himself and even leaned in to take another taste, this time honing in on your pearl. You felt more than heard his pleased chuckle when you whined at the sudden touch.

This time, when he pulled away, he let you retreat. As you shimmied down his body, you caught him wiping your essence off his face with a careful finger before popping it in his mouth.

Hawks' skin was still flushed red, all the way up to his ears; but, now, he looked damn smug to top it all off. You couldn't see the look you were wearing, but you knew by the heat on your face that it was lewd.

The cold of the cabin had been lost to you, especially when you positioned your hips over his and felt the head of his cock nuzzle at your entrance, threatening to breach your core.

Hawks' head fell back into the sheets with a whine, eyes squeezing shut. Tantalized by the sight, you intended to tease him a little; however, he nudged his hips forward with a sudden jerk, effortlessly impaling you on his cock, and taking that opportunity away.

"Ohhh, fuck!" Hawks shouted before sucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth. He released it after letting out a low hiss.

You closed your own eyes for a moment, adjusting to the sudden intrusion of his impressive girth, and felt his hands slowly slide up your thighs into the dips of your hips, slotting over a spot he had practically engraved for himself ever since this began.

When your eyes opened, you looked down and took in the deliriously beautiful look on his face. His thumbs nudged your hip bones pleadingly and his eyes opened, peering up at you through dark lashes.

Forgoing any thoughts about teasing, you planted your hands on his chest and rolled your hips. The motion punched a whine out of him. The sound drawled out into a growl when you kept the rhythm, chasing your own pleasure.

"Yeah," he hummed encouragingly. "Come on. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Just like - ahh - fuck..."

You hardly needed the encouragement; but, the dirty words spewing from his lips further ignited the heat in your belly, and you whined in response.

He could have easily pulled your hips down to intensify the moment. Instead, he lifted his hips off the bed to meet yours, effortlessly matching your movement and chasing the delicious warmth and wetness of your core, while letting his hands hold you gently.

"Baby, do you feel good?" Hawks uttered lowly, his pleading question gently breaking through the moment.

"Y-ye-s, Kei - go," you sobbed, stuttering out your response and groaning halfway through his name.

It was always good; but, something about this moment made it more intense than ever before. You could already feel the sensation rising, thighs trembling every time his cock slid back inside, hitting the perfect spot again and again.

"Yeah?" he hummed, sounding so breathless and fucked out, despite you having just barely begun. "You feel good, so fucking good," he praised between labored pants and low moans.

"You're so fucking good to me," Hawks babbled on, head falling back into the sheets, where he closed his eyes. You watched his adam's apple bob, noticed how tight his jaw was clenched.

A growl vibrated through his chest, followed by a breathless sympathy of curses, "oh fuck - oh fuck. Come on, fuck my cock - yeah - ahhh. Ya' hear that? Those sounds. God, you're so f-fucking perfect."

Your union was loud, skin slapping together and wet, fleshy sounds echoing between the two of you.

His dominant hand released your hip and slid around, thumb prodding between your folds and seeking out your pearl. You were already so sensitive, feeling him so deep, teetering on the edge. When his calloused skin touched that spot, you let out a cry.

"Come on this cock," Hawks groaned. "Sooo close - f-fuck. Come on. Come for me. Fucking come. Gonna fill you up. You want that? My seed. Yeah you fucking d-hnn-"

His babbling ceased when your orgasm took you, the sudden spasms and fluttering of your walls making all sensible thoughts drain from his mind.

His hand returned to your hip, fingers gripping your waist, and he started roughly dragging you up and down to meet his thrusts. You went limp, letting him bounce you on his cock to your liking. Your hands slipped off his chest and you fell onto him, forehead knocking gently against his cheek.

You could hear him huffing and grunting, the occasional growl seeping through, right into your ear as he fucked you through your orgasm, and continued on, chasing his end.

His cock throbbed, firmly enough that you felt it and the sensation startled you a little; but, that thought was lost when he let out an uncharacteristically loud shout, crying out in ecstasy.

Hawks had always been loud; but, this was something else entirely, and the moans and growls didn't stop, along with his undulating hips, for what felt like an eternity.

To top it all off, you could feel it, spurts of his seed, burning hot as it filled you. In the corner of your eye, you could make out his feathers, each and every one trembling beneath him.

Then, finally, he went still.

Hawks' panting filled the room, almost loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fireplace. Even after his panting died down, he let out quiet groans, his orgasm having not yet waned in full.

Eventually, he turned his head and pressed a wet kiss against your cheek. You turned your head to meet him, at first catching the corner of his mouth before he angled his head to kiss you properly.

You could practically feel the praises behind each kiss, thank you's and love pouring from his mouth to yours in a nonverbal gesture. His hands ran up and down your back, massaging your skin but also ensuring that you didn't move and he remained deep inside you.

When he finally released your lips, you busied your hands with his wild mane, gently pushing strands away from his face. He seemed to like the preening, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back.

You didn't have to ask if he was feeling better. His all-body, harsh red blush had mellowed out and he wasn't panting like a parched dog.

You hadn't realized you were still trembling until he uttered, "it's okay," in a soothing, worried voice.

His hands shifted to your thighs, where he carefully pushed them back and rolled you onto your side, keeping his cock nuzzled deep. His arms wound around your back, bringing you into an embrace while his wings stretched out behind him before sagging comfortably to the bed.

You realized, as he brought you in, that you were still shaking a little. The worry was evident in his eyes, like he had done something wrong.

"D-do you want me to pull out?" he offered in a weak voice.

"It's not that," you replied softly. "That was... intense."

When your eyes locked with his gold orbs, and he took in the sight of your expression, it seemed to steadily become clear to him, what you were feeling. His lips sought our your skin, senselessly kissing whatever he could reach, all over your cheeks, down your chin and along the expansion of your throat.

Hawks’ head fell onto the pillow and his wispy blonde hair tangled with yours. The unease began to fade away as he held you close, bringing the blanket back over your forms when his intense heat finally started to wane. So did the spell, and something concerning struck him.

"Please, tell me if it gets too intense," Hawks uttered, breath fluttering out against your temple. “I’ll-...”

He cut himself because he wasn’t quite what he would do, what he could do. Could he stop? In this moment of clear thoughts, he sure hoped so. But, part of him feared that wasn’t true, and the last thing he wanted was to lie to you about what he was capable of.

You had figured that he had yet to hit the apex of his rut. Yet, his warnings hadn't frightened you in the slightest, especially after what had just occurred. If anything, you were enticed by it. Maybe, in some strange way, it was affecting you to.

"I can handle you," you promised.

You felt more so than heard the uneasy breath that stuttered out his nostrils. Your words stirred something deep in his gut, overcoming the fear, burning arousal and adoration.

[pairofmelaninkweens]

Meteor Showers

Thank you to my editor and partners in crime @xshinigamikittenx and @sweet-darling91!!

Warning: Consensual Sex, Fluffy warm Sex, Slow Burn, Outdoor Sex

By: @aztecbrujeria

The drive had been long but you didn’t mind as Choso blared the playlist he created for the trip. His large, calloused, palm rested upon your thick thigh and your bare feet were on the dash of your vintage 1963 Bronco, filled in the back with your camping equipment. Sticking your hand out of the passenger side window, letting the mist from the mountains cling to your skin, the cool air reminded you of the changing of the leaves as Autumn had made its presence known to the vast land. Choso didn’t mind that you sang along with the stereo, in fact he enjoyed hearing how happy you were, “Why Georgia Why...So, what…” You felt him reach up and run his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck before he rested it back down upon your thigh. You looked at him and smiled to yourself seeing him with his hair down with a backwards baseball cap and flannel, he was more of a pastel goth man but he looked good bundled up and in flannel, distressed jeans, and heavy hiking boots for camping. He looked out of the corner of his eye and smiled bright, “What are you looking at baby?” You just giggled and decided to grab his resting hand and entwine your fingers with his, and brought it to your lips for a loving kiss. He just smiled wider and you watched as he took in a deep breath and let it out in contentment, “How much longer, love muffin?” He squeezed your hand and rubbed circles in the back of your hand, “Not much longer baby, we’ve got about 15 more miles until we enter the cascade locks.” You sat back into the passenger seat and just smiled to the sky watching the fog from the mountain tops kiss the dense evergreen foliage below.

Your favorite activity to do with Choso was to go camping or anything outdoors really. You both connected and centered yourselves through being in nature. When you finally turned off the road onto a beaten path towards the hidden campsite you always used, your heart began to beat faster and you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter. You flushed at the thought of those intimate nights under the stars and marathon morning sex in the middle of nowhere. You were so deep in thought it took Choso pinching the back of your hand for you to snap your attention to him, “Baby, we’re here, we should unpack and get the tent up.” You smiled and hummed in agreement, you slipped on your hiking boots and jumped out of the Bronco when he finally parked. As you got out you stretched and took a moment to look across the lake surrounded by the dense cascade forest, nothing but green, leaves slowly turning into burnt oranges and reds, mountains enclosing the lake, and open skies that were mirrored from the water. You inhaled and took in the smell of wet earth and clean air before exhaling and moving towards the back of the bronco to unload and help setup. When you two finally set up the tent, like a well oiled machine both of you working in a team, you finally went hand in hand to gather firewood. You were laughing at how he let his smile shine through and felt the stress of his life slip away. Moments of him being so soft and vulnerable with you sent your fuzzy feelings into overdrive. You let go of his hand and walked just a few feet apart to start collecting kindling. As you bent over to pick up a few dry pieces you were surprised when he came behind you and slid his hand down your back, “Baby, you know it’s dangerous when you openly tease me like this.” You turned to look over your shoulder at him as you picked up the pieces before straightening up, “Love muffin, I didn’t know you were being teased, what are you going to do with me?” You turned towards him and he reached for you making you drop your gathered kindling bringing his luscious lips to yours. Mouths melding and clashing, tongues seeking entrance, he growled into you and reached to grip your ass pulling you closer into his hardened body. You broke the kiss to come up for air, and he rested his forehead against yours. You couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your lips as you spoke, “Muffin...we need to get the fire started and dinner on, it’s getting cold, you can warm me up later.” He chuckled and gave you another chaste kiss while his digits came up to cup your chin, “Fine, I’ll warm you up in a bit.” The promise in his voice made you shiver in anticipation. 

Later that evening the two of you had started the fire and made dinner before finally settling under the wool blanket with hot tea and nothing but the sounds of the crickets and distant howls from the wolves deep in the forest. The evening had quickly turned from dusk, covered in pinks and greys from the on and off again mists, to the violet haze of the fading sun before the stars began to shine and sparkle through the inked-out sky. You leaned against him as he put his arm around you, both staring at the brilliance of the Milky Way that could only be seen this far out into the wilderness. Choso inhaled and exhaled next to you in utter happiness before he grabbed your enamel mug, half empty and placed it next to the fire. You looked at him, offended as you started to speak. “Hey I was-” He gripped your chin once again and brought your lips to his where his tongue danced against your mouth slipping between your lips. You sighed and sank into his chest, closing your eyes, and letting him enter once again, melding and tasting each other and seeking one another’s oxygen. You feel him bring you closer and move to undo the buttons of your flannel, his hands finding your skin as he begins to slide your vest and flannel off. You search for his buttons before you come up to sit on your knees while the both of you were locked into bruising kisses. His fingers traced the hem of your thermal before sliding it up to take it off, carefully caressing your midsection sending electricity down your spine. As you felt him take the clothing from your top the crisp air kissed your naked flesh and sent goosebumps flashing across your exposed torso. He moaned at the sight of your bare flesh before you reached for his thermal and pushed up the fabric to allow him to take his hat off and slide his long sleeves over his broad shoulders, revealing the expanse of his  muscled chest and arms. You grew hungry like the light from the flame that illuminated your bodies against the dark and sat back looking at him. The scars that adorned his physique told you stories of his cursed fighting. Thick with muscle and just enough softness, but  the deadliness of his form was clear as day, making your breath hitch as you reached out to trace the outlines of his etched skin and felt the growing sensation of your love engulf your entire being.

You could feel your eyes shining with the overwhelming feeling of just how much he meant to you, “Baby, is everything okay?” You looked into his dark eyes, swirling with desire and hesitation as you reached up and cupped the side of his face, stroking his cheek with the pad of your thumb, “I love you Choso. I love you, just as you are...no different, no less.” His dark eyes flashed with the understanding of your confession and the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders, you watched as they began to shine with his own burning admiration and love. He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for an eternity. You move your hands to the clasp of your lacy bra and undo each hook and slowly, slipping each strap off your shoulders and letting the flimsy underwear drape off your body. As soon as your breasts fell free you felt him reach out and caress the curves of your rib cage and the curve of your breasts before beginning to play with your pearling nipple, “Baby, you’re as beautiful as the milky way.” This time, you stood up and finished taking your jeans off and slid them slowly down your hips, sliding out of the denim, one dainty foot at a time. When you were in nothing but the matching lacy panties to your bra, you walked to him and squatted down to sit in his lap, wrapping your legs around him and taking his bruised lips once again as you encircled his shoulders to entwine your fingers into his thick hair. 

You felt his strong arms move to encompass you, one of his large hands came up to grasp the back of your neck and pull you deeper into his lips, growling into every kiss making you feel his own passion. Your arousal was beginning to soak through the fabric of your panties, the feeling of his thick cock straining against his jeans, while you began to grind your hot center against him. “Fuck, Baby, I want to feel you...I need you...please, baby.” You felt him pick you up slightly so he could lay you down atop the blanket beside the fire. He sat up with his torso between your thighs and reached up to grip your throat as he kissed a path along your skin, from your chin down to the valley of your breasts, each kiss and graze of his teeth igniting your desire, keeping you warm against the autumn night. You began to whimper when you felt his shoulder-length tresses tickle your skin as he cupped your breast and found your nipple. The swirl of his pink muscle met your sensitive buds and made you arch your back as he wickedly made the chord at the base of your spine tighten faster. You could feel the blush of the fire within your veins creep across your cheeks. Choso made sure to pay attention to each of your nipples grinding his hard erection against you, giving you the friction that began to take you closer to your climax. “Ch-Choso, Please!” You began to claw at his back, leaving reddened marks atop his flesh, “P-Please Choso!” you felt him groan at your pleas before he came back up to undo his belt buckle and jeans. You watched his movements and decided to slide your own hand down your body under your panties and made him watch as you spread your own plush walls open and circled your own aching clit. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head as you brought yourself to the edge when you felt him grab your hand and move it back to your side. “Baby, I don’t think so. I want to take my time. You're beautiful here by the fire…” His eyes travelled along the length of your body, as if he was memorizing every curve and line of your form, “you remind me of the moonlight when it kisses the lake.” Bending down over you, his hair framing his face, he could see the slight blush that flooded your cheeks and took his hand to brush his thumb against your bottom lip that was swollen from his kisses and the perfect rouge. You opened your lips and flicked your moist tongue across his digit and felt him shudder. Taking your fingers you caressed the muscles and sinew in his arms up to his shoulders taking him in. He was tall compared to your small stature, his torso alone caged you in so easily. Choso was built like a large rugby player making his body that of a titan compared to your own. Tracing his scars you watched as he melted into your touch you brought your lips up to kiss each mark on his forearms, he groaned with each loving touch “I love you, my own little piece of serenity, my bliss.” He came down to capture your lips again as he carefully laid on top of you, entwining his fingers in your hair. He took his time kissing and grinding against you just right, your limbs entwined before he sought out his path once again toward your dripping core. It’s when you felt the brush of his nose against the top of your navel, taking in the scent of your crisp body wash and soft floral perfume, he hooked his thumbs in your panties and pushed them down, “I want to taste you...I want to make you cry out my name baby. I want to hear you sing it with your divine lips.” You felt him trace his nose down to the top of your sex before you felt one of his hands, with featherlight touches against your skin, trace up the outside of your thigh before he spread your legs to rest atop his shoulders opening you up revealing your most vulnerable position.

Choso could see the slick folds of your swollen pussy, like petals quivering against the wind, and moaned at the sight of how you looked like heaven on earth, “Baby...You look so breathtaking like this...I love when you bloom just for me.” He followed your inner thigh like a treasure map, taking his time to give open mouth kisses and mark your sensitive organ, leaving a wet trail that burned against your nerve endings. Hot breath teased your drenched sex, “Choso…” Your voice was breathless, he chuckled softly at the sound of your impatience, you reached down and entwined your fingers in his thick, raven, black hair as he took his lingual tool of torture to take his first dip into your slick folds. You felt his wide muscle graze your clenching entrance, sending millions of sparks to your tightening coil, up to circle around your sensitive clit before he dove into your plush walls sucking and lapping at every delicate petal. With every exercise of his tongue, up and down, swirling and sucking, he slurped and mixed his own saliva with your own nectar-like juices that readily flowed from you for his pleasure, eating you out like he couldn’t stop, addicted to your scent and taste, his own personal brand of heroin. “Fuck! Baby, you taste so sweet...so fucking good…” Choso continued to bring you closer and closer the more pressure he put upon your clit with his tongue, “Choso...hnnnngggg...Ch-Choso-...” You gasped and bucked your hips against his face as you felt him slide one strong digit into your clenching entrance, “CHOSO!” You cried out as the sensation of him slowly pumping one digit in and out, curling against your ridged spot, and lapping up your gushing lips. He growled against you as he slipped, ever so slowly, another digit into your greedy core, “Fuck, baby your so tight...your gonna feel so good baby… you’re so stunning like this…” He watched from between your legs as you started to come undone while he finger fucked you and continued to tease your bundle of aching nerves with his expert organ. “Cho-FUCK!...Please, daddy, plea-...” You began to choke on the moans coming from your throat as he changed the angle of his fingers and found a movement that sent flashes of stars behind your eyes when you closed them. “That’s it, baby, you’re almost there just a little longer...I want to take my time with you...I love when you beg for me, baby girl.” Your legs began to shake around his shoulders, Choso felt his own aching cock twitch against his jeans leaving a wet stain against the denim, he was close to coming with you. He needed to edge you just right, he got off on making you break into a million pieces. Choso always took his time with you and made sure to drive you insane.

With sure strokes, Choso kept his pace of coaxing the spot inside of you while he continued his sinful barrage of tonguing to your clit. You reached down once more and fisted his black tresses, grinding harder into his mouth, wanting the friction. He moaned and growled, sending vibrations through your clit twisting your coil at the base of your spine ready to send you into bliss. You felt your toes begin to curl and you began to cry out, “YES! C-CHOSO! FUCCKKK!!” With one more sure thrust with his strong callused digits and sucking on your clit you felt your first jump into your long-awaited climax. Arching your back, riding out the multiple shudders, you saw flashes of white while you felt Choso’s wide tongue explore your entrance; you clamped around it and felt him take every last drop you could give.  You felt your bones become jello and your skin slick with sweat began to feel the chill again from the mountain air as you came down from your earth shattering orgasm. Choso looked up to see you utterly blissed out and your breathing slow, your limbs were slow in moving as you smiled into the space of the universe. He smiled against your inner thigh giving it an open kiss, chin wet with his saliva and your cum, “Oh, Baby, you think that was it?” Your eyes popped open to look down at your man, hair a mess, and a smoldering smile peeking up from between your thighs. 

Crawling back up your body, kissing up to your lips, you tasted yourself on his tongue and it was sweet against his skin. Moaning into him you felt him rock his hips into your slick center between your spent thighs. Mewling at the sensation of the friction on your already sensitive sex you scored his back, “Choso...please! I need you…” He kissed you one more time, growling at the sensation of your nails wreaking havoc on his back, “Princess...I want to hear you please...please beg for me baby.” You felt him rock into you harder, the fabric of his denim was sparking the fire of your desire once again, “P-PLEASE DADDY!” You couldn’t take the sensation anymore, you wanted him, “P-Please Choso...Fill me...I-I want you to come inside of me...PLEASE!” Choso moaned, taking your lips in for another passionate kiss, soul-searing when he bit your bottom lip slightly before getting up to take his jeans off. You laid upon the blanket, being kept warm by the fire, watching him move his jeans down past his hips you took in the delicious adonis belt that dipped beneath his briefs. 

His stomach flexed as he caught you staring hungrily at him. He smirked down at you and you felt your pussy clench. He looked dangerous and primal against the light from the fire, “Choso...p-please…” You sat up and got on your knees as he pushed his pants down, letting his thick cock spring free and hit his navel. Your eyes grew big, you knew he was large from the first time you had ever slept with him, but he took you by surprise every time, “ Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.” You came forward on your knees, looking up into his face, and traced your fingertips up his muscular thighs, so thick, taking in every scar and striation. You felt his legs shake slightly before your hand came up to cup his heavy sack, you took your tongue and licked one wet strip following the line of his heavy balls, before bringing his aching head to your hot mouth where his pre pearled and trickled down his hard cock. He felt your hot breath on his swollen tip, letting his head fall back as you took him into your mouth. He moaned your name, feeling you slowly and gently cupping his balls. You hollowed out your cheeks and took him to the back of your throat, opening your jaw as wide as it would go, working your own tongue against the underside of the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. While stroking him and swirling your tongue, working on the sides of his twitching member, he fisted your hair and guided you up and down controlling the pace, “F-Fuck! Baby...you’re going to make me...hnnnnggg!” He pulled your hair and popped out of your mouth with an audible sound before he made you stand to take your lips even more hungrily than before. He brought his hands down your back to caress your ass before guiding your legs up so he could lift you. Your legs encircled his core and you felt the head of his cock at your entrance teasing you, “Fuck baby, I want you so fucking bad...I just want you baby.” He brought you both down to the blanket and sat with you still around his middle, you felt his dick in the crease of your ass making you mewl and grind against him. “Choso! I-... please fill me.” You felt him growl against you, he positioned himself at your tight hole to sit you up to take him in, “Slowly baby girl, I want you to feel every inch...I want to make you feel every ridge, every god damn inch baby.” He hissed as his head entered you, “Hnnngn, CHOSO!” Your head fell back as you felt him begin to stretch you out and fill you, he took his time, as he said, with every inch. “F-fuck your so tight baby…” Looking up into the milky way the first sign of a meteor shower flashed across the sky, “Perfect…” You said softly before looking back into Choso’s dark eyes, “I love you muffin...I love you…” You felt him bottom out and he looked back into your eyes, shining with the overwhelming emotions of his true feelings, “I love you so much...It makes me ache when you tell me...I love you.” Taking your lips, encircling his broad shoulders, you began to move up and down, maddeningly slow, you felt him drag out inch by inch before thrusting back into you. Your moans becoming louder and louder the more you felt him fill your plush walls to the limit. He began to set the pace faster, biting down on your exposed neck and sucking. You knew he was marking you and it made you shiver at the pleasure. You buried your fingers in his hair, “Baby, baby, fuck I can feel you, you’re so fucking close….oh f-fuck, FUUCCCKKK!” You felt him begin to shudder under your touch as he slowed down, “No daddy, please!!! FILL ME PLEASE DADDY! Daddy please make me full!”You hugged him tighter and moved again at your own pace, begging so sweetly into his ear, “Fuck! Yes baby that’s it milk my fat cock baby! Fuck, I’m gonna come baby...FUCK!” He hugged you close and moved you to your back changing the angle of his thrusts, lifting your leg on his side to have you stretch out more for him, he bottomed out to your cervix making you scream, “CHOSO!” You looked at him and saw his skin glinting from the sweat that was dewing upon his skin by the fire and the moans and grunts from him pounding into you as you latched into his arms and let him bruise your cervix every time. He saw your eyes roll to the back of your head as you began to arch off the blanket, “Fuck, that’s it baby, that’s it, come for me baby! Let’s come together...Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m c-coming!” You felt his thick cock drag on the inside of your soft sponge that began to make meteor showers behind your eyes when you clamped down with a vengeance upon his shaft making you both cry out as he bottomed out one more time to fill you to the brim with his hot seed. He came so hard you felt it fill your womb and spill out around him, cock still twitching inside of you feeling full and content. He finally laid on top of you as you both caught your breath, “I love you baby.” He looked up and kissed you before rolling you both over, with him still inside, to have you lay on his chest so you could look up into the sky. Once he covered both of you with the heavy blanket and you snuggled into him, he began to caress your tresses, peppering kisses against your crown, “Oh, look…” He turned to look up at the night sky, newly streaked with flashes of dancing light before bringing his gaze back to you, “making love to you under a meteor shower, could not be more perfect.” You looked up and smiled to cup his cheek and kiss him one more time. You both fell asleep beside the fire, under the heavy wool blanket, with the Milky Way lighting the darkness in the dense forest that surrounded the lake, like a perfect mirror for the universe looking down.

[dhwty-writes]

Nightmares

This is part 4 of my fic for @heyabooboo for the @thewitchersecretsanta.

Welcome to the the longest (and angstiest) chapter of this fic! Compared to the others that are found in this fandom, this is fairly mild, but please heed the tags. And have fun reading!

Summary: Having braved the nightmare of figuring out the meaning of a near incomprehensible poem, one should think that the nightmares of the netherworld come to an end. Alas, Destiny is not as kind. Retracing their steps, Jaskier is taken to the darkest chapters of his and Geralt's lives.

Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss

Warnings: canon typical violence, we see Geralt and Jaskier’s shitty childhood in here, and the trial of the grasses, but nothing too explicit. Rated T

Read on AO3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

It was, admittedly, a bit strange, to say the least, to keep walking backwards with his eyes affixed on the horizon. He extended his arms to get a better balance, still he tripped and stumbled over rocks and tree stumps and thin air. It probably would've been easier with just a glance over his shoulder. But-

'No,' he decided. 'I mustn't lose my goal from sight.' If he was entirely honest, that was probably the most difficult part.

Many people assume that in a netherworld without a physical body they cannot be troubled by such trivial things such as the paltry ache of keeping your eyes open without blinking. That is untrue. 

There are some aspects of humanity that are so ingrained into the core of their very being that they cannot imagine a world without it. Boogers, for example, and armpit hair, or sweat. Or the pressing urge to blink.

And no matter how much Jaskier tried to fight it, there was just no hope of escaping the burn. 

He blinked.

The scenery in front of him had changed. "What the fuck?" he murmured quietly as he took in the familiar countryside.

It was late in autumn it seemed; most of the trees had already shrugged off their colourful cloaks of withered leaves, though the first snow was yet to come. In front of him, a beautiful keep rose up at the horizon. The walls of limestone were pristine as ever, the red shingles glistening after a recent rain shower, bright banners flapping in the wind. The whole image looked as if plucked from a nightmarish fairy tale. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Didn't expect I'd end up here of all places." Self-consciously he tugged at the cuffs of his blue silk doublet. Hadn't he been naked?

He decided not to think about that too much and instead be grateful for the armour that would protect him from piecing stares and cutting comments. He had no time for it either, for within the blink of an eye his vision shifted again and he stood within the empty courtyard.

'Strange.' There should be guards. Servants. The Count or Countess perhaps. Instead, there was nothing but eerie quiet and wisps of fog curling around his feet. It was almost enough for him to feel concern rising within hi-

"Julian Alfred Pankratz!" Jaskier froze on instinct, the booming voice bearing down on him like whip lashes.

‘Fuck.’ Twenty years. Twenty years since he had last returned home, and still— His heart was beating frantically in his chest, as if it wanted to jump right out of it. Given his previous experiences in this place, he didn't consider this impossible. 'Shit,' he cursed silently. 'It just had to be Lettenhove, hadn't it?'

He screwed his eyes shut, to drown out the litany of his father, the words nearly indistinguishable through the thick haze clouding his mind, though still drawing closer.

When he finally opened them again and had managed to blink away the bright lights distorting his vision, he realised he wasn't outside anymore. Instead, he was standing in front of a nondescript double door he knew like the back of his hand and had hoped to never see again.

It stood the slightest bit ajar, just so that he could peer inside. There was his father behind his desk, Lord Lettenhove intimidating as always. And- Jaskier frowned.

A little boy standing in front of him, with a mop of brown hair and a silken doublet that looked much like the one Jaskier was wearing. His mouth formed a silent 'O.' He couldn't see the boy's face, nor betrayed his body a single thing, yet he knew that he was crying.

'This isn't real,' he understood. 'This is a memory.'

"Father, please-" the boy begged, but his voice broke and shoulders gave the slightest tremble, the only hint of the terror that stole his and Jaskier's voices alike. 'For the fearless no success,' he reminded himself. 'Well, I'm fucking terrified. I'm getting out of here.'

He wanted to close his eyes so that this strange world would bring him to another place. But they didn't. No matter how adamantly he ordered them to shut, his eyelids didn't budge. 'Poor boy,' a voice in the back of his mind said. 'Poor me. I can't leave like this.'

"Well, Sir?" his father asked coldly. "Don't you have anything to say in your defence?"

Jaskier screwed his eyes shut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He cursed quietly: "Get it together, Jaskier!" He hadn't dealt with stage fright for nearly thirty years to succumb to fear now. So, he squared his shoulders and passed through the oaken wood of the door.

"Actually, your lordship," he spoke up, "I do."

Lord Lettenhove whirled around and gasped. "You!" he spit out and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick."

"She isn't," he said casually and strolled over to his child self. "She never is. Besides, she's been dead for a decade." He went down on one knee to get on eye level with him. "Hello there," he greeted him with a smile he hoped to be reassuring. "It certainly has been a while."

Julian raised his gaze, his eyes puffy and red with tears, the fear lingering even now. For a moment he couldn't help but stare in bewilderment. 'Was it really that bad?' He hadn't even remembered.

"Who are you?" Julian asked.

"A scoundrel," their father huffed indignantly, "and a coward."

Jaskier's smile grew even wider. "He's right," he confessed. "I am you, little one. Just without- this." He waved his hand around vaguely.

Julian's eyes widened even further, his gaze flicking around nervously. Finally, it settled on the lute case. "Are you a bard?" he whispered secretively.

"A failure," their father commented, "a disgrace upon our name."

He ignored him. "Oh no, little one. I am no mere bard. I am an adventurer, a poet, a minstrel. I am all that you dream to be and more. I am Jaskier, the most renowned troubadour of the Continent. But most importantly, I am alive. I am real. And you, my lord," slowly he rose to his feet and turned to their father, "are nothing."

"Excuse you?" he gasped. "You will take that back, young man."

"No," he answered calmly. "I don't think I will. I was taught to always tell the truth, so tell the truth I shall. And that truth is that you, father, are not deserving of any obedience or respect a son owes his parents. And least of all love."

Lord Lettenhove sneered. "You are no son of mine," he spat out and for a moment those words were enough to make Jaskier tense up. He could well remember when he had heard them—and seen his family—the last time. He could still taste the despair on his tongue, the tears running down his cheeks, the overwhelming urge to beg-

"No," he interrupted the spiral of hopelessness that threatened to drag him away. 'I have reimagined my memories hundreds of times. I can do it again.' He straightened his back and raised his chin. "No, Alfred, I am not. You wish you had a son like me."

"I do not-"

Jaskier scoffed and turned his back to him. He had spent far too much time listening to his father in his life already, he did not plan on doing it any longer. "Hey, Julian," he said instead, "do you want to hear a poem? How about a limerick?"

The Count de Lettenhove gasped indignantly: "Julian, how- Such verses are beneath us."

"And they are above your intellect," he retorted with a wink at Julian. "Let's see, I think I've got a good one:

There once was a Countlet named Alfred,

Whose aim was to cause fright and dread.

He thought himself smart

For he despised the arts,

Alas, he was dumber than bread."

Julian's eyes gleamed and he snickered. Well. He considered that a good start. "Another?" he challenged and the boy nodded eagerly. "How about this?

There once was a Redanian Countess

Who was famed for her martial prowess.

She boasted she taught

Her son to wield a sword,

But was beaten by a pigeon at chess.”

Giggling, Julian almost didn't look scared anymore. "A last one, yeah?" Jaskier proposed and he nodded eagerly. "This one I know from a friend. Ready?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and said with as much dignity and gravitas as possible: "Lambert, Lambert, what a prick."

By now Julian was laughing openly, nearly doubling over with the force of it. 'There,' Jaskier thought with a satisfied smile, 'that's better.'

He blinked.

The road that led through the early-summer forest was empty except for a cart disappearing in the distance. Jaskier frowned and turned around. What on earth had led him here? As far as he could remember it, he had never seen that place before. Plus, there was no-one around.

Maybe he was just supposed to follow the road. With a shrug Jaskier decided that was as good a guess as any and began walking. He hadn't gotten far when he heard the prattling of tiny feet behind him. "Ma?" a young boy shouted. "Ma!"

Jaskier wanted to keep on walking. He didn’t know this boy, so this hardly concerned him. He rally tried to keep on walking. Really. But something made him turn around. Maybe the fear in the boy's cry: "Ma!" Probably the sob when he yelled: "Visenna!"

The boy couldn't be any older than seven years at most, probably he was younger still, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. "Ma?" he asked again.

"Sorry, buddy," Jaskier said. "No-one around but me."

"But- She said- She told me to get water," he stammered. "She was thirsty."

"Oh." His heart sank. What was he even supposed to tell him? That she was surely coming back? That was a lie, no mother left her child in the woods with the intention of coming back. He had seen it often enough in the past. Mostly it was because of hunger, or sickness, sometimes just good old poverty as well. Some of the children were believed to be cursed, or changelings, or whatever other thing humans came up with to keep hurting each other. 

This child, however, did not seem to fit any of the categories. He looked almost disturbingly boring. He was well-fed and properly clothed as well, a healthy blush on his cheeks. Jaskier had no idea what had led the mother to abandon him out here. "I'm sorry," was the best he managed. The boy's lower lip wobbled dangerously. 'Please don't start crying,' Jaskier begged whichever higher power was listening. He was shit with children; he couldn't handle a crying one. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to prevent the inevitable.

"Geralt," the boy answered with a frail voice.

"Oh," Jaskier said again. 'Oh, fuck,' he thought. No wonder he didn't recognise the memory—it was taking place over half a century before he was even born. "Geralt," he repeated stupidly. Geralt as a child. Geralt before the trials. Geralt who had, presumably, just been abandoned before heading to Kaer Morhen. Geralt who was just about to cry.

'Shit.' He had to do something. And fast. "Well, Geralt, I'm glad that I stumbled upon you here. I couldn't imagine braving the way through this wilderness on my own."

The boy frowned—an expression that looked much cuter on this Geralt than on the one Jaskier was acquainted with. "I know you," he decided after a few moments.

"Yes," he agreed. "You will. Come, I tell you a story while we walk."

He started walking into the direction the cart had left. Boy-Geralt hurried to catch up with him and slipped his hand in his. "You look funny," he remarked.

Jaskier snorted. "It's called fashion, thank you very much." He regarded him with a fond, wry smile. "I'm glad not everything about you changes once you grow up."

"Are you a prince?" Geralt asked as if Jaskier hadn't said anything at all. 'The selective deafness isn't new either, I see.' 

"Not quite," he answered honestly. "I am a Viscount, but that's unimportant. You will know me as a bard and the most annoying creature in existence."

"A bard?" he asked excitedly, skipping along next to him. "I will know a bard? Will you sing songs of me? Will we be friends?"

"All of that and more," he chuckled. "Although you won't always be grateful for it."

"I can't imagine that." They walked barely two paces in silence before Geralt asked: "Will I be a knight? Will I slay a dragon? Is that why I will know you?"

"No," Jaskier answered as kindly as he could. "You will save a dragon. As a witcher."

"A witcher?" Geralt's eyes went wide in horror. "No, that can't be! Witchers are scary!"

"Well, you can be very scary," he agreed. "But most of the time you aren't. You see, there was this one time when we were travelling and you found a dog. It was old, and had a broken leg and had been left to die in the woods. But instead of killing it, you set its bone, heaved it onto your horse's back and found a place for it to stay. You weren't with me then, but a few years later I visited the same town and it was still there, hale and hearty."

He glanced down at the boy to check if he had the boy’s attention. Of course, he had; Geralt was practically hanging on his lips. "Oh, or that other time when you were hired to slay a troll and we chose to remigrate him instead. Sounds easy enough, right?"

Geralt nodded.

"Well, it wasn't. You see, while trolls are certainly smarter than... drowners, let's say, they are not terribly intelligent. We tried talking to him, wasted half a night while doing so—because we couldn't remigrate him during the day, since you were supposed to kill him—until we managed to explain to him that he should get up and follow us. It worked until we reached another bridge where he had lived previously, as it seemed. He decided he might just as well live there again, and then we had to remigrate him again." Jaskier laughed at the memory. "I think we repeated that four times at least. And didn't even get paid in the end, can you believe that?"

"Another," Geralt begged eagerly. "Please, tell another one.

"Alright," Jaskier agreed. And so, he did what he did best: singing Geralt of Rivia's praises. He talked until his throat was raw, and kept on talking after that. Only when the sun set and Geralt fell almost asleep on his feet, did they seek out a place to rest.

They found a nice dry spot next to a stream, just like Geralt would teach him almost a century from now. Jaskier dug a pit to start a campfire, as Geralt collected firewood, and dug out some dried rations from his pack, that had miraculously appeared along the way. Once they were both sated, he laid his bedroll out for the boy and took the first watch. Well, the only watch, more like it. 

He leaned against a log they had dragged onto the clearing together, plucking idly at his lute strings to accompany an old lullaby he half-remembered his nursemaid singing. Satisfied, he watched as the boy fell asleep and only then, finally, did exhaustion wash over him. He felt so drained, from walking for what felt like weeks without a break. He'd just set his lute down and rest his eyes for a little bit and—

He blinked.

"Get out!" the innkeeper barked and Jaskier sprung to his feet. "Get out, you useless bastard! And don't bother coming back in."

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as he lunged to catch the man—boy, really—that was about to land face-first in the mud. Too late. The Oxenfurt graduate was already eating dirt. And not moving. Well, that was concerning. "Are you alright?" Jaskier asked.

"Ow," the boy groaned, still without so much as lifting his head.

He flopped down next to his younger self with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. Bruised ego hurts like shit. But no broken bones at least, eh?"

"This time."

He winced. He'd forgotten how shitty it had been before he had become famous. "You need to get up," he told him without too much empathy. Whining would get them nowhere. "You'll ruin your doublet else, and we both know that you don't have the coin for a new one. No-one likes a dirty bard." Besides, they had to greet a witcher in the very same get-up not quite two months from now.

"I hate you," Julian-Jaskier grumbled as he got himself into a sitting position.

"You hate the world and think that's the same as hating yourself and everyone around you," he corrected him. "There's a difference." He had also forgotten his dramatics of his teenage years, it seemed. Not that he was keen to remember them.

The bardlet rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "What do you want? I really had a shitty day and don't need a visit from... what even is this? Future me?"

"Something like that," Jaskier grumbled. "Believe me, I'm not thrilled to be here either."

"Then go away."

"Can't," he explained. "Not until I help you... or something."

"Help me?" He snorted. "How are you supposed to help me?"

The thing was, Jaskier wasn't quite sure either. There really was no helping him; he had no money to give and besides, that wouldn't make much of a difference either. It never had, not until he stole the lute from the drunk disgrace of a bard in a month, at least. Wait a minute-

"A lute!" he exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"I have a lute, I can give it to you," Jaskier babbled excitedly and scrambled to his feet.

"And how's that going to help me?" Julian-Jaskier asked sceptically.

"Performances, you idiot! No-one wants to listen to just a bard; everyone loves bards with lutes. It's right— shit." He grabbed his lutestrap to find— nothing.

"What?" he scoffed. "Lost it or something?"

"What? Lost it?" He laughed nervously. "No, that's ridiculous. I just, um—" He started patting down his breeches, as if he might have hidden it there. "—misplaced it, that's it." He turned on the spot, searching the ground. He had just put it down when Geralt had gotten tired and— "Fuck!"

"You lost it?"

"I lost it."

Julian-Jaskier laughed. Actually laughed. "What?" he asked when he saw Jaskier's resentful glare. "Don't tell me you've stopped looking on the bright side of life."

"How is this the bright side?!"

"Oh, I don't know," he flashed him a wide grin. "I actually consider you losing the lute you wanted to gift—"

"Lend!"

"—yourself rather funny."

"Ughh!" Jaskier exclaimed and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You are a brat." He had no time for that. He needed to go back to Geralt and get the lute. He blinked. Nothing happened. He blinked again. And again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing. "Fuck!"

Julian-Jaskier grinned even wider. "You do realise the comedic potential in this scene, right?"

"I don't care about the comedic potential! I just want my fucking lute!" He turned away from the annoyance—really, how Geralt had allowed him to travel with him was beyond him. Oh right. He hadn't—and stared at the sky. "Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You there, looking at all of this! Coram Agh Tera? Wade? Well, whatever your name is, you wanker, take me back to the previous one! I need my lute!"

Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, there was the barely stifled snorting laughter of Julian-Jaskier in the background, but he decided to ignore that, so it was basically nothing. "Come on, mate! I just forgot my lute! How am I supposed to help this one without a lute?"

Still no answer.

"You know, I don't really think this is going to work," Julian-Jaskier quipped.

"Shut the fuck up, you midget. I know that!"

He sighed and finally got to his feet, grimacing as he took in the ruined fabric of his breeches. "I'm sure there's another way to help me besides conjuring up your lute from thin air."

"Well, probably," Jaskier hissed, "but in any case, I'd really like my lute back. It's my lute, alright, I'm attached to it. I get it three months from now and I want it back! Right now! Right here in my hands!"

The weight was sudden and entirely unexpected, so Jaskier actually stumbled a bit. Flabbergasted, he stared down at Filavandrel's lute in his hands. "Oh," he said simply. "I suppose that works."

Julian-Jaskier looked very stupid when surprised. 'Gods, I hope I don't look like that,' Jaskier prayed. Given that his looks had barely changed since that day, however, he didn't have all too high hopes. "How did you do that?" the bardlet asked.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "I just wished really hard to have a lute."

"Brilliant." His eyes gleamed. "Do you think I can do that, too?"

"No," he answered simply and thrust the lute into his hands. "Just go and do your fucking performance. I have places to be."

"Alright, alright!" Julian-Jaskier agreed and took off running towards the tavern.

'I should really do something about the dirt,' Jaskier thought as he took in the mud-caked seam of his pants. 

He blinked. 

The dirt was gone.

Julian-Jaskier looked down at himself and grinned. "Thank you!" he shouted back over the pristine shoulder of his doublet and vanished inside. 

He blinked.

His surroundings melted away once more and rebuilt themselves in a town square. Jaskier frowned, trying to remember if it looked familiar. He didn't think so, though it was hard to tell. After the first hundred or so, they all started to blur together.

What was strange, though, were the people. There were quite a lot of them and he didn't recognise any of them. 'Weird,' he thought. Come to think of it, he wasn't quite sure he had even seen their clothes before. It reminded him of the garb his parents and grandparents used to wear when he'd been a child. It had to be one of Geralt's memories, then.

The faint ringing of swords filled the air as terror gripped him. "Oh no," Jaskier whispered hoarsely as his surroundings shifted again in a nauseating whirl. 

He blinked. 

Even before he saw the woman's corpse he knew exactly where—or rather when—he was. Geralt had never told him of this story, not really, at least. But he had heard rumours, and then, after meeting the witcher, had gathered as many stories as he could to find, to get to the truth at the core of it. 

"Incredible," an old, bearded man said as he knelt at her side. "Marilka," he said and stumbled to his feet. "Marilka? Marilka! Get me a cart. We'll take her to the tower for an autopsy."

Jaskier felt the overwhelming urge to punch Stregobor in the face. He probably could have. He probably should have. But before he had a chance, there was a bloodied blade at the mage's throat. "If you touch a single hair on her head," Geralt growled, "yours will be on the ground next." It was Geralt, quite obviously so. Still, he looked different. Younger, in a way. Much less guarded than the man he knew, with a wild look in his eyes Jaskier had never seen before.

"Have you gone mad?" Stregobor asked. "Her mutation, it influences people. That's how she got these men to follow her." His eyes narrowed just a bit. "She got to you, too, didn't she?"

"Do not," Geralt snarled, "touch her."

"Witcher," the mage answered in the most condescending voice imaginable and, oh, Jaskier definitely would punch him now, "you butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken."

"You're a beast," a man called from the crowd.

"You endangered the girl," a woman added and Jaskier decided that all of them could bugger off, thank you very much.

"I think this is quite enough," he said calmly as he stepped forward, shifting in front of Geralt as time came to a halt. "Lower your sword, dear. Please."

The witcher stared down at him in confusion. "What-" He blinked a few times and his gaze cleared. "Jaskier," he whispered.

"The very same," he said and bowed with a flourish. "The sword, love." He squeezed his hand lightly and watched with relief as Geralt did as he was told. "Let me take care of this mess for you."

The witcher nodded and the world started spinning again. "Good people of Blaviken," he began and opened his arms. The familiar weight of his lute appeared much faster than the first time. "You can count yourselves lucky, for on this day you are in the presence of not only the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia, but also the master bard Jaskier. Truly, you are in for the performance of a lifeti-"

"Jaskier," Geralt hissed quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"This is not really the place for a performance." He pointed at the corpses and the townspeople who stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Ughh. Right. And then there was also-

"Who do you even think you are?" puffed Stregobor.

"Jaskier, the bard, and I don't like repeating myself," he quipped. "So, I suggest you shut the fuck up, old man." Immediately, his mouth snapped shut. Still, Jaskier wasn't finished: "You are a bumbling idiot who keeps babbling about some mutation nonsense. It's not her fault that you have the charisma of a wooden spoon and lack any kind of imagination. Really, it is not that hard to believe that a woman could inspire people. You are a pitiful creature."

The people around him still stared in open-mouthed bewilderment. "Close your mouth, dear, I'm not done, yet," he told Geralt and tipped his jaw up. He really should do something about all the bodies.

Jaskier frowned, concentrating hard. Shrouds appeared from thin air and covered the corpses and the blood vanished from Geralt's face. "Jaskier," the witcher growled, annoyed. Alright, maybe he had overdone it with the flower crown, but this was a dream world; when would he ever get such a chance again? "Focus."

Right. Not his strong suit, but he had a performance to deliver. And that was very much his strong suit. Gently, he plucked at the lute strings, the notes almost manifesting before he did so. "When a humble bard," he began; the song came as easy to him as breathing. 

The audience didn't seem too enthusiastic. It took him until the end of the first refrain to realise why. "Oh," he said, his lute making a dissonant twang. "I suppose I'm just about two decades early with this, aren't I?" Of course. How could he have been so stupid? 'Well, only one way to change that.'

"Toss a coin to your Witcher," he sang loudly, "Oh, valley of plenty

Oh, valley of plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty!"

He blinked.

The wind tugged at him to the tune of a camp being set up. Jaskier knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. "Ah," he breathed, taking in the silhouette of Geralt sitting on the rock. And his own self approaching him. "Shit." He winced in sympathy for his heartbroken, aching self. Well, not heartbroken yet, but soon to be.

He wasn't surprised, to be honest. Not really. But fuck was he afraid of it. With all the other scenes he'd had at least a semblance of an idea of how to fix them. But this? He couldn't really change himself, could he now?

In the end, it had all worked out just fine, of course. Geralt and he had found each other again and after a bit of awkwardness and a muttered apology by Geralt they had continued travelling with each other again. While his witcher definitely wasn't a man of words, Jaskier could see his remorse just fine. He was fluent in all of Geralt's silences, and the plethora of gifts and smiles he got was better than any spoken apology in the world.

Still. It hurt.

Geralt shifted a bit, hearing his footsteps. Jaskier had to do something, and fast. "That's not really going to cut it," he muttered. His blubbering, yearning self wasn't going to be of any more assistance now than the last time. "Sorry, mate, but you have to go." With an ever so quiet pop the other Jaskier vanished.

It earned him a gruff Geralt grunt. "Jaskier," the witcher said without even turning around. "What do you want?"

'Alright, so we're doing this,' he thought and did his best to steel himself. "Nothing but a chat, old friend," he tried to say as casually as possible and sat down next to him. "Just like the good old days, hm?"

"Hmm."

"Funny. I thought you'd say that," he replied in a feeble attempt at comedy.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but didn't manage to hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth quite fast enough. "Jaskier."

"Not helping?"

"Hmm."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, didn't think so."

He waited with bated breath for his witcher to say something, but apparently, he considered their conversation done. 'Looks like I have to talk myself out of this mess,' he thought. 'Like always.'

Time to put his money where his mouth was: "Look," he said and wet his lip with his tongue. "I know how it feels when people die. It's always hard. And it doesn't get any easier the more it happens."

"Your point, bard?"

He closed his eyes. He still didn't have any fucking clue on how to solve this. Only one way to go, then: "I have a proposition for you I already know the answer to. But—" He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his violently beating heart. "It's all been a bit much, lately, yeah? All these... djinns and children of surprise and dragons. So, why don't we get away for a while? We could head to the coast."

Geralt snorted. "Never took you for the maritime type."

"Well, I'm not," Jaskier answered, glad for the tension to lift, if only a little. "I get horribly seasick, you see? But that's not the point."

"Then what is?" They were going for the fond annoyance, apparently. It certainly was an improvement to last time.

It also loosened Jaskier's tongue; he could barely keep himself from babbling and that really wouldn't make it better. "Life's too short to spend it being unhappy. You should do what pleases you while you can."

"Composing your next song?" And there it was. The moment he'd inevitably fuck up.

"No, I just, uh-" He let his head drop. "I'd say I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me, but that's a lie. I figured that out a long time ago."

"Sleeping with other people's spouses is not really a life goal, Jaskier."

"Oh, ha ha," he retorted. "Very funny. But that's not— That's not what I'm talking about."

"What, we still haven't reached the fucking point?" he asked with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"No, I— Gosh, this is harder than I thought. It's you, Geralt. You're what pleases me."

The witcher turned to him with incredibly wide eyes despite the frown. As if he was surprised. As if he couldn't fathom why Jaskier would say that.

He shrugged. "It's true. I'm never as happy as I am at your side. Just spending time with you. You're the most important person in this world to me. In any world, really. I couldn't— I cannot bear losing you. Maybe it's selfish, but I just— I just want to have you for myself for a bit. Not share you with those who are hellbent on killing you. Not share you with anyone."

"Hmm." Geralt tilted his head to the side, a curious look Jaskier couldn't quite decipher in his eyes. In all the years of their acquaintance he had never, ever looked at him like that.

"Just— let me show you?" he begged. "Please? I know it's not what-"

But Geralt didn't let him finish. "Alright," he interrupted him. "Tomorrow."

He blinked. 

Geralt stood a few feet away with Borch and Yennefer. "The sorceress will never regain her womb," he caught the last remnants of their conversation. "And though you didn't want to lose her, you will."

"He already has," Yennefer answered with a frail voice and stormed away. Jaskier scrambled to his feet when she passed him, catching Geralt's longing gaze.

'Shit,' he thought. This would be heartbreak all over again. 'It always was going to be.'

Geralt looked down at Borch. "Hmm," he said and trudged over to Jaskier. "The coast, you said?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

"Hm." He shouldered past him and grumbled: "They better have some good fucking ale there." After a few steps he realised that Jaskier wasn't following him and turned around. "You coming?" he asked with an outstretched hand.

"I am," he replied and scrambled to catch up with him. "In my experience, they also have excellent vodka," Jaskier joked and grasped Geralt's hand tightly. 

He blinked.

It was a clear day on the cliffside. The ocean stretched out to the horizon in all its deep, dark blue glory, its waves crashing gently on the rocky shore. "Oh," Jaskier simply said.

"Hmm," Geralt replied and draped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

'This is so much better than being here alone,' he thought. "It's beautiful," he said.

"It's nice," Geralt said. From the witcher that was probably as poetic as it got. And, oh, that curious look in Geralt's eyes looked even better with a smile accompanying it.

A warm feeling filled his chest. 'I really could get used to this,' he thought. "There's another thing, Geralt," he blurted suddenly. "I lo-"

He blinked.

The world turned upside down. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid. Because, of course, he had not only ruined the probably single-most romantic scene to confess his feelings for Geralt, the worst also, apparently, was still ahead of him. 

Jaskier had never been to Kaer Morhen before. Geralt hadn't even trusted him enough to betray so much as the smallest detail of its location. Still, there could be no doubt as to where he had ended up this time. Not with the vials and jars and jugs full of dubiously coloured liquids. Not with the witcher and mage looming over the scene, whose presence Jaskier barely registered.

All he saw were the wide, terrified, hazel eyes of the boy straining against the shackles tying him to the table. "No," Geralt begged, "please, Vesemir, I can't."

"Yes, you can," the old witcher answered. "It'll be over before you know it."

"No," Jaskier whispered, his eyes widening in horror. "No, I won't let that—"

He blinked.

Vesemir was gone, though Jaskier thought he might hear the distant sound of retching. The mage was still there, mumbling quietly in Elder.

"No!" he shouted again and leapt forward to push him back, to get him to stop, to- His hands passed right through him. As if he wasn't even there. As if he was a ghost. "No, stop, I won't-!"

He blinked.

The pain hit him completely unprepared, punching the air from his lungs. Wheezing, Jaskier staggered on his feet. He felt himself reminded of his first meeting with Geralt. Only that this time it didn't stop.

He could feel the burn of the toxins in his veins as his blood rushed, his body twisting, fighting, transforming. The boy on the table strained against his shackles, his mouth open with a silent plea he could not utter.

Jaskier could, though. Blinding pain ripped through his body as his knees gave out beneath him. A horrible scream erupted from his mouth, agony consuming any semblance of humanity.

After what seemed an eternity the pain ebbed off again; the burning fire in his body still pulsing, threatening to come back.

"No," Jaskier whispered, his vision still clouded from agony, but Geralt was still there. Had to still be there. "I won't let you suffer."

White hot pain surged again. "No!" he commanded, cried, sobbed. "No... Please—!" He screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, until his throat was sore, raw, burning. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he could no more and Geralt and he were coughing up blood.

The pain flared and Jaskier's voice gave out. 'I can't do this any longer.' He didn't- He couldn't- He couldn't talk. 'But I don't need words to imagine.'

With a trembling hand he reached out, strained until his fingertips grazed over Geralt's arm— And collapsed. Jaskier sobbed, and thrashed, and curled himself up into a little ball, suddenly wishing for the same chains Geralt wore. That way he had at least something to hold onto. Jaskier had nothing.

Nothing but pain.

An agonised whine sounded from above him. Jaskier whimpered. He wanted to reach out, wanted to soothe him, wanted to— But he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he barely could think as the world flickered around him. He wasn’t strong enough. 

He sobbed. ‘No,’ he thought. 'No, it can’t end here, I can’t wake up yet, I need to stay— I need it to make it stop for him. I need to, I have to, I must.'

He braced himself. The world flickered again. A soft sound of music floated down to him, a chant in Elder. For the next onslaught he was ready. As ready as one could be. He breathed in, let the pain fill him until it almost became too much. 'No,' he decided. Then again, more forceful: 'No! This is not who you are.' The pain twisted and churned in his gut, like liquid fire, but he would take it. He would take it all, if need be.

'You are human.' A second voice joined the first in its chant. He ignored them both. His eyes shut as tightly as he could, Jaskier imagined, flickering reality be damned. An incredible feeling rushed through him. Like flying. Suddenly, it was almost easy. He didn't imagine the pain away, that was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine it differently instead. He could imagine rightful anger, or heartfelt grief; and even a tiny sliver of hope.

'You are kind.' He could imagine laughter and tears, embraces and kisses and smiles. He could imagine songs and poems and jokes. Friendship and love and family. He could imagine dragons, knights and mages, queens, kings, and children of surprise. He could imagine bards and horses, elves, selkiemores, djinns.

'You are worthy of all good things in life and more.' He couldn't imagine the pain away. That was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine so much else that the pain became insignificant.

He didn't know when it stopped, or why. Jaskier opened his eyes and looked at his hands. He tilted his head to the side. Something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was different. He hadn’t even noticed how transparent he had been before. But he wasn’t anymore. He looked just as real as his surroundings. 

Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt's eyes, glaring gold in the dark. "Thank you," he whispered.

He nodded shakily and rose up on his knees.

He blinked.

A voice behind them spoke up: "Again."

Jaskier stood on his trembling legs. "No," he commanded. "Enough."

The mage attempted to step forward. Jaskier glared at him and the man stopped, frozen with one foot in the air. "No," he repeated, "you have no power here. You are a memory, a dream, a fantasy. And I do not want to continue this dream!" With every word the air around them began vibrating, as the feeling filled him again. It felt like floating. 

"Get lost!" he yelled. The door flung open, frozen air coasting in. "You are not welcome here."

He took a step forward and the mage stepped back, his form flickering. "You never were, and never will be. Get lost"

"Who do you think you are?" the mage scoffed. "With what magic do you think you can best me?"

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "I am Geralt's friend," he declared. The ground shook with every step he took. "I am no mage, no witcher, no Child of Elder Blood. Just a bard with a lute. Just a man with an imagination.” The calm feeling within him dissipated, a storm brewing within his stomach. Not like liquid fire, but like frozen lightning. The air around him thrummed, wind swirling through the laboratory. “And I told you to get. LOST!"

"No," the mage wheezed, "you can't-" His body flickered again. And flickered. And blinked out of existence. 

"How dare you?" the Count de Lettenhove boomed, looming up dangerously before him. "My own-"

"GET LOST!" Jaskier yelled. He vanished and his mother appeared in his stead. "Get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost!" With every word he said another ghost appeared in the chamber. Stregobor, Yennefer, Renfri, his brother, his sister, Queen Calanthe, Visenna. Faces he knew like the back of his hand and others he had never seen before blurred together before his eyes in a nauseating whirlwind of impressions.

He sobbed and thrashed and laughed as he banished each and every one of them to whatever circle of hell they had crawled forth from. Floating, flying, his mind clawing at the edges of the reality he rewrote. The castle around him trembled and shook like his knees, stones and memories collapsing, falling, vanishing before crushing them. He was at the eye of the storm, clouds of wind and darkness swirling around him, interspersed with lighting. It hurt, it burned, it stung, but he did not stop. Could not stop. Would not stop. 

Until it was over. 

Jaskier hadn’t even noticed it. He probably never would have noticed if not for the boy tugging at his hand. "It's pretty."

"What is?" Jaskier mumbled weakly. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. It took him a while to process the beautiful winter landscape that stretched out before him. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a storybook. It had everything it needed: a lake, covered with a thick layer of ice, an orchard adorned with icicles, a hill to go sledding. Picture-perfect.

Well. A storybook where the snow was green, the trees purple and the sky orange, eternally stuck in sunset with no sun to be seen.

Still. It looked beautiful. Serene, even. Even more magnificent than he had imagined. "Thank you," he answered, his voice much quieter than the enthusiastic child's on his other side. "I'm Jaskier," the boy said.

The boy on his right smiled widely and extended his hand: "Geralt."

"That's a nice name." Child-Jaskier shook it excitedly. "I can already tell that we're going to be the best of friends."

"That would be nice," Geralt answered.

"What do I do now?" Jaskier and Jaskier asked.

"Hmm." Geralt frowned, apparently thinking hard. "Do you know how to build a snowman?"

"I do," they replied.

"I never built a snowman."

"Come," child-Jaskier said and tugged on his hand. "I'll show you."

Jaskier watched the two boys slip down the hill on their butts. He watched them run to the lake, watched them build a green snowman. He was relieved, he realised. Relieved, to see them happy. Still, the question remained: 'What do I do now?'

"Man," a bored voice next to him made him whip around. The dandelion yawned. Made a yawning sound. Whatever. "I already told you what to do."

"You!" he raised an accusatory finger. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, man," it sighed heavily. "This is your dreamworld." 

"Fuck," he muttered. "Can't you at least help me figure out the rest of the poem?"

"I already did. Just follow the instructions. Follow—"

“—your heartbeat to the horizon, then take the second turn right after the battle field, I know,” he grumbled. “Have I reached the horizon yet?”

“I don’t know,” it responded. “Have you?”

“Probably not,” he sighed. “Will you come with me while I continue?”

“Can you imagine that?”

He smiled and began walking again. “I guess I can.” They journeyed in silence for a while. But try as he might, the horizon didn’t seem to come any closer.  Jaskier groaned loudly; he really should have guessed that there was another mystery to that.  "Hey, you!" he shouted at the sky. "Coram Agh Tera, can you hear me? Wasn't I done with the nightmares?"

No response.

Well, almost none. "He really is an idiot," Valdo-larkspur mocked. "The sky talks as little as the trees."

Jaskier chuckled and raised his finger. "For the record, I knew you'd say that."

"Alright, braggart, don't flatter yourself," Jaskier-larkspur joined in.

"That, too," Jaskier said but the two of them didn't hear him, already too engrossed in a discussion about some trivial nonsense. 

'Alright, focus, Jaskier,' he told himself again. He had been forcing the brain fog from his mind entirely too often in the near past; it was getting harder and harder every time. And the noise of two bickering idiots behind him didn't make it any easier. On the contrary, with all the distractions he could already feel the fidgety-ness approaching. 

'Ughh.' He'd never figure it out at this rate. 

What Jaskier didn't see, of course, was that he already had done so a rather long time ago. But like I said, mortals are, first and foremost, fundamentally blind. Their imagination reaches only as far as the horizon, even that of a poet as accomplished as Jaskier.

In hindsight, his blindness was truly a blessing. If he had discovered that there was absolutely no need for him to brave the latter stages of his nightmares, his rage might have been sufficient to shake him from his slumber. And then where would we have been?

So, he had no choice but to figure out the mystery that was no mystery at all all over again.

"Could you two shut up?" he snarled at the larkspurs. "If you're not going to help me, you can at least be quiet!"

"Well, someone got off on the wrong foot," Valdo-larkspur quipped.

"Yeah," Jaskier-larkspur agreed. "And for the record, we did help you. We gave you instructions. It's not our fault if you're too much of a fool to follow them."

Jaskier frowned. "Fool?" he breathed. 'And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain.'

"Hey!" the buttercup complained. "You shouldn't be so mean to him. He's doing his best."

"Oh, yeah?" the larkspurs taunted. "His best isn't very good then, huh?"

"Man, just leave him alone," the dandelion joined in and before he knew it, the four of them were arguing viciously. 

Jaskier paid them no mind. He glanced around warily, trying to parse out whatever 'no sustain' meant. It couldn't be anywhere around the lake, then, nor the lilac forest. The blue mountains were an option, but he didn't think it likely. 

'Come descend into the sky.' 

He tipped his head up to the sky above. 'It's empty,' he realised. No sun. No clouds. No nothing. But descend into the sky? He couldn't imagine that. Could he?

A faint smile spread on his face. 

'How to find my mighty throne?

The answer’s plain: you don’t.'

"So, it was that simple, huh?" he said to no-one in particular as he stretched out a hand to touch the invisible barrier of the horizon, still impossibly far away. “The second turn to the right, is it?” he murmured and turned into the direction of the blue mountains, keeping one hand still on the skyline. 

"Well, would you look at that," a gruff voice said as the lark landed on his shoulder, "the weirdo actually knows how to follow instructions."

"You again," he deadpanned. "How did you get here?"

"I flew. Obviously."

"Obviously," Jaskier echoed stupidly.

"So," the lark said and picked at the feathers under its wing, "have you figured it out yet?"

He huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. "It's really quite easy, isn't it?"

"You tell me."

"Why," Jaskier said and closed his eyes, "you flip the world upside down. Obviously."

"Obviously," the lark replied stupidly.

Jaskier opened his eyes and as the sky stretched out beneath him. It was an easy thing for him to take a step. And another one. And then, let himself drift into that bright realm of uncertainty.

And so, he did.

He had already gotten quite far down into the sky when suddenly his descent was cut short. "The fuck?" he muttered. He took a few experimental steps to the left and right, eyeing the fog curling around his ankles warily. But try as he might, he couldn't descend any further. "Are we there yet?" he called up to the flowers that were still waiting on the surface.

"Almost," the lark replied, gliding down to him. "Just open the door."

"What door?" He could see nothing but orange sky. He turned into the direction he had come from and marched forward. He hit the door face-first. "Fuck!" he cursed, holding his nose that should be bleeding by all rights.

"You found it!" The flowers cheered from the ground. It was weird, seeing them hang from the ceiling like this. Or the ground. Whatever. This was already weird enough without wondering about semantics. 

Besides, he had more important stuff to do. Like opening an invisible door.

"Shit," he cursed, blindly scrabbling at the solid surface that had materialised out of thin air. "Is there a handle or something? A knob? Or— ah, fuck!" He turned the knob and immediately stumbled through, falling a solid foot before landing in soft powder snow. 

Jaskier groaned and turned onto his back, staring at the solid wooden door hovering in the air above a wintery garden. "Sure," he muttered and got to his feet with a resigned shrug. "Why not?" He started dusting off his clothes. "I'm already talking to birds and flowers, why not a door in a fucking—"

"Jaskier?"

[dansnaturepictures]

19/06/21-Arrival in and journey to Anglesey and Red Squirrels and more at Newborough Forest

Today was the day we have been waiting for, the much mentioned by me Anglesey holiday intended for this week last June postponed rightly due to the pandemic was finally able to happen. As we got everything packed up and and ready to go and on the way out to the car this morning at home I took in an assortment of varied and colourful flowers in one pot in the garden and a delicious looking rose bush as well as some Starlings and House Sparrows in the garden getting pictures of the flowers which I tweeted tonight on Dans_Pictures. The wi-fi at the cottage very luckily again seems all right for posting photos and these posts. I can’t guarantee that won’t change but I’m encouraged.

On the long journey it was great to take in some nice sky scenes especially at Keele service station, and the usual when travelling lovely raptors Red Kite and Buzzard beautifully in the air. I also liked seeing oxeye daisies and foxgloves taking over the verges nicely the former continuing that nicely from at home lately. Then we had the exciting moment when I personally crossed the border into Wales for the eighth time and the land then became more and hilly and mountainous and I knew I was back. Crossing the Menai strait over the impressive bridge and seeing a lovely statue into the Isle of Anglesey was just as exciting as crossing the border. I was happy with how much of the sea we could see on the journey in North Wales too with Puffin Island where we hope to go visible from the road so this was nice.

On Anglesey we wound our way through the sleepy red campion and herb-Robert clad lanes. When at our cottage foxgloves and possible kidneywort by a wall added nicely to these two flower species which were here as well. And at the cottage and driving around we were stunned to see the mountains of the beautiful Snowdonia including Snowdon itself so clearly. It looked astonishing and so beautiful. And it was as though we were right next to it rather than over the water what breathtaking view. I had expected this as we went to Snowdonia in 2016 on holiday and had a day trip to Anglesey for RSPB South Stack. But it was just so nice to be in the midst of it again. I very soon saw in lovely bright and sunny conditions that this welcoming and lovely cottage is one of the better ones we’ve stayed in for views around they really are so stunning I took the first picture in this photoset of this view. And it was also one of the better ones for wildlife as I saw Swallow on a wire around, Chaffinch and Buzzard being mobbed by crows really well. I took the second and third pictures in this photoset of daisy and other flowers and herb-Robert in the cottage. A special welcome and I am so excited for the week to come here.

We then found the perfect place for a first evening walk always such a memorable moment in any trip in the gorgeous and rich woodland of Newborough Forest one of the places on our list to come this holiday to try and see a Red Squirrel one of my favourite mammals and one we love seeing. It was so lovely to walk through this forest with the sun lowering in the sky. I took the fourth, fifth and sixth pictures in this photoset of this very beautiful forest tonight. It became a day of favourites for me as we saw Jay and Great Spotted Woodpecker two of my favourite birds well. I liked taking in these quintessential woodland species, and I also enjoyed finding a special Jay feather with its exciting bright blue edges. Also as we arrived and throughout the nice walk alongside beautiful Blackbird we heard a stunning Song Thrush singing it’s heart out one of my favourite bird songs as well as Blackbird so loudly the sound was extremely soothing and melodious. A great sound track to the walk.

Walking on towards a lovely pond here as well as a tiny frog, insects and more great red campion and herb-Robert and ivy and nice yellow flowering some broom in the beautiful tree scenes I was thrilled to see two Red Admirals exceptionally well in the air and still. It was great to see Little Grebe and Coot with adorable chicks among other birds on the lake. And we also noticed a big dragonfly flying delightfully over. Looking in the binoculars I made out the green and blue of a Southern Hawker one of my favourite dragonflies. My first year tick of the trip so soon and a crucial one to see going into the summer months so this did feel good.

The moment of the day came next though as me, my Mum and Missy reunited with my Mum’s partner who indicated he had seen Red Squirrels. We sat quietly with him for a bit and were amazed to notice a Red Squirrel sneak through the trees and come down to two lovely feeding boxes as my Mum had heard happens here. Two came down in the end and we spend a perfect few minutes watching these rare and warm coloured typical woodland mammals making out their charming features with one darker than the other I took the seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of these. Sat in a nicely lit forest of sweet seasonal aromas with midges on the wing, watching one of the most beautiful and iconic species we have was an exceptional start to the holiday and exactly what we love having time away for. It felt like we had really made excellent use of this nice and dry evening to see one of the species we had so hoped for.

We missed these last year after seeing them three years running with the Highlands of Scotland in January 2018 sightings in the snow sandwiched between years with autumnal Brownsea Island visits. This ensured we have seen Red Squirrels in England, Scotland and Wales which I am very proud of. It makes it my second earliest sight of one ever in a year too. They can largely be a seasonal thing at Brownsea Island or although I’ve never seen them there Isle of Wight our local refuges for this species. Today it was entertaining seeing one Red Squirrel put itself into the box of nuts to feed and stay in there ages and all you could see for a few minutes was it’s bushy red tail! It really was an amazing few minutes enjoying this precious species. What a sensational start to the holiday! It was great to share our sighting of the squirrels with some fellow holidaymakers who had never seen one and they seemed to see them as we left which was great. Chaffinches were around here and nicely on the walk too.

Tonight at the lovely cottage I took the final two pictures in this photoset of a sky scene with the moon and clouds in and a moth in the cottage. I enjoyed some special sky scenes with some mist coming over the mountains too and some Blackbirds in the garden male and female tonight which was great. The day did truly start to belong to mammals though with views of Rabbits there seem to be a lot around here adding nicely to our Hare experience in Hampshire on the Stone Curlew trip on Tuesday. And magically tonight as has happened at a cottage we stayed in on our Northumberland holiday at Seahouses in 2019 we saw some bats I saw one beautifully drift over through the night’s sky tonight. A small one so I believe a pipistrelle. I’ve had a good year for bats. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary for journey, home and arrival: Two of my favourite birds the Red Kite and Buzzard, crow I couldn’t quite tell which, Herring Gull, Grey Heron nicely over a main road, House Sparrow, Blackbird, Starling, one of the regular Feral Pigeons at home, Swift, Swallow, Chaffinch, rabbit, the bat, a butterfly I couldn’t quite tell which and other insects.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Newborough Forest: My first Southern Hawker and Red Squirrel of the year, two of my favourite birds the Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay, one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral, Chaffinch, Robin well too, Blackbird, Woodpigeon, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Coot, Little Grebe, Common Blue Damselfly, frog, midges, other insects and I heard Song Thrush.

[neworegoncoastcamping-blog]

Oregon Coast Camping: Free Or Nearly Free Spots

Just north of Bandon, Oregon, Bullards Beach State Park provides up RV camping by the ocean with scenic views of the historic Coquille River Lighthouse. Nestled among shore pines, guests can explore the Coquille River Lighthouse, the mouth of the river, and the shoreline. The lighthouse itself is open to visitors daily for guests to study about the building and the area.

A small campground located just north of Tillcum Beach Campground, this area has 42 tent sites and two yurts with loads of ocean views close by. A beautiful state park situated simply south of Oregon Coast Camping area with 23 tent websites, two rustic yurts, two rustic log cabins, and 6 deluxe yurts. This campground is generally a well-kept secret with Umpqua River Lighthouse, which has an adjoining museum and is managed by the Douglas County Parks Department, nearby. Located two miles north of Bandon-by-the-sea, this state park has lots to see and do with nearby Coquille River Lighthouse and Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge. The park has 13 yurts and no tent websites, unfortunately, however does sport a horse camp with eight primitive websites. The close by city of Bandon, the "Cranberry Capitol of the World," has shops, galleries, and eating places available.

We had a nice time and this activity was particularly enjoyed by our teenage daughter. My first thought is that no matter how a lot time you determine to spend on the Oregon coast, it won't be sufficient. The seashores are all beautiful and the residents are friendly and welcoming.

On the southern half, when such amenities are unavailable, replenish with freshwater from streams and rivers. Study the tide tables so you understand what to expect on long stretches of seashore. Officially, the Oregon Coast Trail is 382 miles lengthy, but the precise distance varies depending on the way you select to hike it.

Further south from right here, much more tenting with breathtaking views could be found, making this a fantastic first night’s stop on a trip down the Oregon Coast. Cape Lookout provides easy accessibility to the seaside and a perfect view of the ocean. If you love to hike, you will find eight miles of mountaineering and walking trails via a lush old-growth forest. The campground also offers 13 yurts, six deluxe cabins, 2 group tent tenting sites, sizzling showers and bogs, and one electrical website with water. Our final pick for the Oregon Coast is the Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, situated in the Central Oregon Coast. This is a smaller campground, featuring solely 17 websites with hookups; eight are full hookups and 9 are electrical and water only. [newline]It’s nonetheless got plenty of features that make it a fantastic possibility for that winter camping journey you’ve been dreaming of.

South Jetty Rv & Tenting Resort

The nostalgic 1920’s-era Promenade is perfect for strolling or biking along the beach and the seaside itself is extensive and clean and ideal for taking part in or relaxing. Harris Beach State Park has everything you’ll need, apart from laundry. Amenities include clear shower and flush bogs, firewood on the market, onsite camp host, playground, dump station. And of course, the best amenity of all, the location right on the coast!

Ask An Rv Pro: 10 Tenting Tips That May Remodel Your Travels 311534

Instead, we ventured on to Cape Perpetua Scenic Area and spent at least an hour making an attempt to seize the perfect shot of the Spouting Horn and Thor’s Well. Tillamook is house to the long-lasting Tillamook Cheese Factory where you'll find a way to watch the production of a few of the one hundred seventy,000 kilos of cheese that they produce day by day. It’s additionally blessed with five rivers, five bays and of course the Pacific Ocean so it’s an excellent spot for water activities. About six miles north of Port Orford on the South Oregon Coast. Large, first-come, first-served campsites tucked into the trees; cabins, group and horse camps additionally out there by reservation.

Nestled close to a river, with straightforward accessibility to the path of the autumn. The coastal campground lies a pair miles south of the place the Alsea River meets the Pacific Ocean. The campground gives a selection of single-family campsites, a few which have each electrical and water hookups. The campground gives a wonderful location for whale watching. Most campsites have beachfront views, and sunsets are to not be missed. Many Campendium guests rave about how clean the park is and the natural beauty you can find here while tenting on the Oregon coast.

Devil’s Lake State Recreation area provides RV and tent tenting, and is lower than a half day’s drive north of Beverly Beach. With 28 full hook-ups and 54 tent sites, you can normally discover the proper spot here in the trees but be ready for crowds. This is the one OR campground positioned in a city, Lincoln City to be specific. Summer activity includes boat leases and day use on the lake. Like nearly all Oregon tenting, yurts are also available for an inexpensive payment. Beverly Beach is five miles north of the city of Newport, and can be a state park.

Pacific

Campsites are amongst sparse bushes ¼-mile inland from a sandy seashore at the mouth of the Umpqua River. Campsites inland amongst bushes, but solely a brief walk from Sunset Bay. Nearby Shore Acres and Cape Arago state parks are a short drive away.

The site is along a big creek with mountaineering trails to Alsea and Green Peak falls. There’s a swimming gap, outhouses, and an attractive landscape filled with ferns and bushes. This web site provides a more primitive camping experience, excellent for the camper on the lookout for a chance to find a little bit of solitude and enjoy nature. A chance to camp at Green Mountain is value braving the tough access road.

At the tip of a enjoyable day exploring and wandering, retire to your Oregon vacation rentals on the coast, excellent for watching the sundown, and rely the celebrities. Come expertise a seaside glamping journey, and guide your individual beach camping! These are simply five of the most effective campgrounds situated alongside the Oregon Coast.

If you need an much more spectacular show, go at sunrise or sundown as well and get a shot that can shock even the most skilled of photographers. After heading again to camp from the Circles in the sand appearance, we were enjoying a lazy and euphoric evening. Luckily our canines were around, the rasciliy raccoon tripped over my tent stake, and triggered Zoey into a barking frenzy. Zoey is my canine that is half Cocker Spaniel, part poodle and definitely likes to chase animals of any type. This group was started by a person named Denny, who in an effort to search out that inner peace, you started to attract in the sand.

The answer is to use designated Oregon coast camping when you don’t wish to hunt down the uncommon coastal tenting to stake your territory with your outside recliner chair or tent. Campsites are on a grassy space with some timber, near Floras Lake. A quick trail leads previous the lake to dunes and a long, sandy seaside.

Oregons 12 Greatest Tenting Locations

We went at low tide later in the evening and it looks like folks had already picked the beach for the whole sand dollars. The Bigelow Hot Springs was solely a 0.1-mile trek in if that. Make certain you include water shoes because the rocks usually are not pleasant on bare ft.

For a whole listing of coastal cities in Oregon go to Visit the Oregon Coast website. This park is positioned on the south finish of town in Florence, OR, and is a superb place to name home while you explore the central Oregon coast. Bring your seashore bag and loosen up at Cape Cove Beach on the south side of Heceta Head after your hike. This rocky beach is a great place to watch sea birds and explore tide pools. Heceta Head is house to a lighthouse on the Oregon coast, is thirteen miles north of Florence, and thirteen miles south of Yachats.

With 33 campsites, Jones Creek is a superb spot to cool off from the summer season heat. With swimming holes at every turn, plenty of shaded campsites, and trails to explore at the Tillamook Forestry Center, there's greater than enough to fill a lazy weekend. The nearby Wilson River offers extra swimming and fishing opportunities. On the larger side,Nehalem Bay State Parkoffers a various vary of actions for all visitors. From crabbing to horseback using on the beach, the chances really feel countless. Quite busy through the warm summer months, reservations are really helpful here.

We found this spot listed on UltimateCampgrounds but we stopped in at the BLM workplace inCoos Bay to get the inside track on the world. They did warn us we wouldn’t be the only campers on the market and once we arrived, we understood what they had been getting at. Southern Oregon Coast Camping  near Gold Beach Oregon on Hwy 101 just 37 miles North of the California Boarder close to the Rogue River. In northern California, many of the public campgrounds are within the redwoods they usually refill quickly, so reservations are required during peak months and ought to be made well in advance. If you wish to combine it up, try the close by Yaquina Bay Lighthouse or the Oregon Coast Aquarium.

I hope this text on Free or practically free tenting Oregon coast was value studying. A novel kids’ playground is in fashion with locals in addition to campers. Guests take pleasure in strolling on the seashore and fishing within the surf. Seashore guests have to be cautious of sneaker waves and harmful rip currents. The close-by Sand Lake Estuary offers fishing, swimming, crabbing, kayaking, climbing, and wildlife viewing. Kayak excursions are equipped 7 miles south on Beaver Creek throughout July by the labor-day weekend.

After coming again house we realized we have been zero.25 miles away from where it really was. I don't imagine that path is just 2.5 miles although personally, my Fitbit said I had gone 3.92 miles by the time we rotated. We have been extremely disappointed about missing this feature as this can be a very fashionable trail. Be positive you explore the Tamolitch Blue Pool Trail on Google Maps and drop the little man to see what it looks like on a traditional day. There are a number of areas that appear to be the right spot, however alas aren't any. 1- Continue along the path that can convey you to a total of 10 totally different Waterfalls, every with its own distinctive look.

[lubbuthedigitalnomad]

A PERFECT PLACE

Happy Bob Marley BD (it was Feb. 6), Tibetan New Year (Feb. 12) and Valentine’s Day week! I hope you and yours are happy and healthy. Communications from America say that things are a little less crazy now that the election is over. That’s good. Even the most pro-American Asians were thinking we went a little wacky!

With any luck, folks in the USA will continue to take deep breaths and calm down. With a little effort, things will become less hateful and more loving as both the reds and blues start to realize that working together is the only way things will ever work at all. With that sentiment in mind, this week’s 1000 words are from the Fearless Puppy On American Road book, and about a time and place that remembers the more beautiful part of the American experience.

Once something changes, it can never go all the way back to what it was. In many ways, that is a good thing. We can preserve some better parts of the life we already had while allowing room for new and improved ideas. Insisting that both those new ideas, and the parts preserved from the old, are employed as actual improvements that benefit the vast majority of us has become the non-negotiable, essential responsibility of each and every citizen. Like it or not, it seems we will have to stay actively, consciously, and intelligently involved in order to insure success.

Please be well & stay well. Love, Tenzin and the Nepali Crew

FEARLESS PUPPY WEBSITE BLOG

FEARLESS PUPPY ON AMERICAN ROAD/AMAZON PAGE

REINCARNATION THROUGH COMMON SENSE/AMAZON PAGE

FEARLESS PUPPY ON AMERICAN ROAD WEBSITE

Rural Vermont

Helpfulness. Tribalism at its best. Everyone works together on everything. Lives depend upon each other in temperatures well below zero.

Hitchhiking is no longer just getting from here to there while barely knowing my host. Nearly every ride establishes or increases a friendship.

More cows per square mile than people, more open space than cows, and more forest than open space. Pronounced seasons and cycles. Cold, white winters. Muddy springs. Vibrant green summers pulsating with life that knows it only has a few months to do what needs to get done. Rainbow autumnal foliage so brilliant that guests come from continents away to view it. Streams clean enough to drink from.

Eggs come from happy chickens — not from the cruelty of large “animal production” warehouses.

Everyone waves hello to anyone driving by.

There’s always time to speak with whomever you meet at the General Store or Post Office. There’s always time. No hurry. Life comes first. Being is more important than doing (once the doing gets done).

The only store in town is the size of five closets but has everything — food, hardware, videos, clothing, beer, and more. A giant empty cable spool acts as a table around which to enjoy coffee, home- made donuts, and the company of neighbors. A best friend makes maple syrup. Everyone grows incredible gardens.

I have spent a lot of time with four other people and five beers staring into the open hood of a pickup truck that was not in need of repair.

Wood keeps you warm three times — once when you chop it, again when you carry it in, and the third time when you burn it. Overflowing abundance lives here. Some folks want more. Few need more.

Theater groups that produce professional-quality plays thrive in the forests of nearby vest-pocket towns.

The purity and clarity of omnipresent Nature rubs off on its human inhabitants. Crime, violence, and assorted hatreds appear only in newspapers and on TV stations. No one here has seen those things in person.

The Town Treasurer has a sign on his office explaining, “It’s very hard to get away with anything in a town this small.” Live and let live. If it hurts no one, it’s legal.

Resourcefulness is a way of life. Anything you need can be built from left over parts of things that you don’t need anymore. If you don’t know how, someone will show you. They’ll be happy to help — even happier if you bring a beer to say hello and thank you.

Deer hunters and trout fishermen deny slaughterhouses and corporate supermarket chains their abuses and profits. Unprocessed foods, hard exercise, low stress, clean air, and clean water deny the medical industry their profits from unnecessary surgery and drugs.

Awe inspiring natural beauty excludes land developers and their profit-over-people motivation. Their concrete and steel are not welcome here. The industrial decay that would lead to profits for a large assortment of unethical folks in fancy suits is denied entry by the conscious decisions of simple, intelligent farmers in overalls.

There will never be a Wal-Mart or a crack house here. There are many guns. They are never used for anything but hunting food. People are constantly helping each other to build a barn or house, dig out snow and mud, care for the children, cook, clean, weed the garden, and feed the animals. Anything that can be done at all is usually done by a group, even if it’s actually a one-person job. Folks enjoy each other’s company. Except in the most extreme circumstances, everyone deserves inclusion.

Parties get thrown together instantly for no other reason than that someone feels like being the host.

On a Tuesday, my friend Mike told me that he was having a party at his house on the following Saturday.

“What’s the occasion, Mike?”

“The occasion is that I just came up with the bright idea of having a party. I’ll get out a side of venison and buy a keg of beer. Tell everyone you see to tell everyone they see. If anyone wants to bring more food and drink, that’s good. If not, we’ll be fine with what we’ve got, I figure.”

“OK, Mike. I’ll get everyone but the assholes informed.”

“Inform the assholes too, buddy! Who knows? Maybe if they got invited to more parties, they’d figure out how to act better and wouldn’t be such assholes.”

It was hard to argue with Mike’s logic, but then again it is hard to argue with much of anything in a clean, friendly village.

During those years of having a home community and base station, a lot of work got done elsewhere. Rest time there made hitchhiking across nearly every inch of road in Northeastern America possible. I probably hitchhiked as many miles regionally during this period as the number of miles that were traveled in all the previous cross-country trips. Each full month of whistle stops working for environmental groups and charities included many towns and cities. It included talking to independent business folks all day about various causes, sleeping wherever possible, and celebrating whenever plausible. At the end of road tours like that, staring at mountains in between long naps was more of a necessity than an option. It is a lot easier to burn yourself up on the road when you know that a perfect place to revive is waiting for you.

The focal points of the road binges included Greenpeace, Citizen’s Awareness Network, and self-organized efforts to help support a Mexican orphanage, raise awareness and funding for American homeless folks, and help the victims of a very severe African famine. The results varied. My little part as a team member in the environmental efforts worked consistently for over a decade at each. The orphanage and homeless projects I organized worked minimally. The famine relief effort worked very well. It involved a governor, two senators, labor unions, school systems, businesses, major league sports teams, rock bands, and more. Thousands of people in the Northeastern section of America gave massive help.

This is a short chapter, but it covers a long period of years. Eventually, my good friend who allowed me this cabin in paradise had to liquidate his properties. This put me back out on the street at age fifty. But for a while, my life was as close to normal as it had ever been. It included long term friends and neighbors.

Those years seem to have gone by very quickly.​

About the Author

Doug “Ten” Rose may be the biggest smartass as well as one of the most entertaining survivors of the hitchhiking adventurers that used to cover America’s highways. He is the author of the books Fearless Puppy on American Road and Reincarnation Through Common Sense, has survived heroin addiction and death, and is a graduate of over a hundred thousand miles of travel without ever driving a car, owning a phone, or having a bank account.

Ten Rose and his work are a vibrant part of the present and future as well as an essential remnant of a vanishing breed.

Follow him on Facebook, Doug Ten Rose

Travel Adventure Books can be an excellent gift to your friends and family, buy from Amazon.com

#traveladventurebooks #keepreading #kindlebooks

The books Fearless Puppy On American Road and Reincarnation Through Common Sense by this same author are also available through Amazon or the Fearless Puppy website, where there are sample chapters from those books. Entertaining TV/radio interviews with and newspaper articles about the author are also available there. There is no charge for anything but the complete books! All author profits from book sales will be donated to help sponsor an increase in the number of wisdom professionals on Earth, beginning with but certainly not limited to Buddhist monks and nuns.

If you missed the Introduction to the new book that will be titled Temple Dog Soldier, or would like to see several chapters of it that are available for free online, go to the Puppy website Blog section. This is a book in progress. You will be reading it as it is being created! Just like you, I don’t know what the next chapter is going to be about until it is written. As the Intro will tell you, this is a totally true story — and probably the only book ever written by and about a corpse journeying completely around the world!

[mamoretta]

Autumn in Japan❤

In November 2019, I went on a full week trip to Japan with my two lovely cousins, Teh Epi and Teh Ami. The trip was on my bucketlist, but when we first planned this trip, we were reckless and kinda impulsive but I don’t regret it any single second. Luckily, we bought the ticket 9 months before departure, so we had enough time to prepare everything (money especially). Little did you know that Japan is the farthest I’ve ever been from home (for now), so I was extra excited and the fact that I can afford this trip alone (in +-9 months of saving!) was a proud moment for me.

Because my last vacation was a solo trip, the first thing I noticed about this trip was the differencies between when you go alone and when you go grouping. In my opinion, solo traveling is much closer to your heart, like there’s always that touching moment when you feel you can conquer anything (I wonder what would happened if I go to Japan alone!!). While group traveling is more refreshing, fun, and thrilling, but it really depends on whom you travel with. I think you have to go with someone that you really vibed with if you want to fully enjoy the trip with less drama. Lucky me, I have two wonderful companions that made my trip to Japan couldn’t been any better. Although there wasn’t always rainbow in Japan (literally), but t’was full of laugh and positivity. Super big love and thanks to Ami-chan and Epi-chan❤

The Trip

I only visited Osaka and Kyoto due to my short time and budget-friendly trip but it was all worth it.

Day-0: Depart & Transit

We flew to Japan with Singapore Airlines (the service and the food was superb! Plus they have Gentle Bones’ song on their entertainment board :p), so we had transit in Changi for a night long, yes 9-hour long. We landed in Changi at 23.00 and we wanted to visit Jewel for the sake of their indoor waterfall although the waterfall only operated until 23.30! We managed to lined up in immigration and jogged to Jewel but too bad the waterfall already turned off (we knew from the beginning we wouldn’t make it but at least we tried). We snapped some obscure photos as evidence that we were there. Then we went back to T2 Changi and strolled around finding a nice spot to spend the night, the snooze area and the long sofas was packed we ended up in some single sofas in front of the children playground, it was warm but we barely slept. 

Day-1: Landed in Osaka

We had breakfast in-between airplane watching at Changi before our flight at 7 am, we bought butter toast and teh O’. The teh O was uniquely delicious, it was teh tarik with melted butter, warm sweet and savory at the same time. The teh O is worth a flight to Changi (hiperbolic but it was that great). Then we found an empty foot massage machine and tempted to try one because our (already) sore calf, and it was one our biggest mistake... the machine was badly stink (imagine million people from around the world using that same machine :)) and the stink sticked to our socks, then we putted the smelly socks into our shoes... imagine the rest. (In case you wondering, yes our shoes was smelly troughout our trip in Japan T_T). In the evening, finally we safely landed in KIX, we was welcomed with the beautiful autumn foliage outside the airport. It was our first time witnessing autumn foliage with our own eyes, we were so happy >_<

Then we rushed to ICOCA vending machine to bought our transportation card for our trip and looked for our train to our hotel in Osaka while carrying the heavy luggage. The first time we tried Japan train line was confusing... we entered the same train back and forth because we were not sure that was the right train and there was no one to asked. The cold air and strong wind started to stabbed me who only wore 2 thin layers of clothes. Freezing. Luckily we arrived at our hotel just in time, rested for a minute, then we went to Dotonbori to get dinner. During this trip, we stayed in Ookini Hotel Dotonbori, just 700 m walk from the buzzing Dotonbori. In Dotonbori, we had Kukuru Takoyaki, ¥800 for 10 pieces of the tastiest takoyaki I’ve ever tasted. Then we lined up for the famous Ichiran Ramen(!!!). Twisted part, later we realised that the Ichiran Ramen we visited was not the ‘no pork’ Ichiran branch we intended to visit... didn’t know if we were too hungry or too careless T_T anyway here’s the pic of the pork broth:

Day-2: Kyoto Part 1

We had breakfast at the nearest Family Mart to our hotel (it was like a little heaven for me, all the food, drinks, snack, and dessert were cheaply delicious). Then we headed to Kiyomizudera Temple in Kyoto by express train. To reach the temple, we had to walk about 20-30 mins but the walk was so pleasing because there were many cute cafe and souvenir shops along the walk. After we spent enough time and took enough memories at Kiyomizudera, we walked to Gion through Sannenzaka & Ninenzaka Street. The street was packed with tourist and full of vibrant touristy shops. We stopped by at Studio Ghibli Shop(!!!) and enjoyed a cup of gingerbread latte at the unique tatami-style Starbucks cafe, there’s a beautiful zen garden and all things beautiful <3 Before we arrived at the modern side of Gion, we passed through an old-style-long-charming alley, every path we took there was beautiful and reminded me so much to anime sceneries. Even when we arrived to the busy Gion, I feel like I was living in anime world.

Then we walked to Nishiki Market. It’s time for FOOD! The best part: super fresh seafood sashimi! I got to ate uni for the first time in my life and I tasted the most delicious salmon sashimi in the world. I cried. We lost count on the money we spent in this market because all things was very tempting. I wish I could go back to Nishiki Market. Then we had Ayam-ya Halal Ramen for dinner (finally real halal food here) and snacked on donuts and hojicha at Koe Donuts. We went back to Osaka and we stopped at the station a bit far away from our hotel to saw the illumination fulfilled the road, it was magical ✨ We walked far enough to made our stomach felt empty again, then we decided to had supper at 24-hour all ¥100 Kura Sushi. All the staffs spoke japanese and didn’t understand our english and all the instructions is in japanese, we waited 1 hour for our queue number to be called (also in japanese x_X), then a waitress came to us offering us (in japanese) the english menu (thank God). 

Day-3: Universal Studio Japan

It is the happiest day in my life!!!!!!!! One day in USJ is never enough, but we already planned a strategy to fully maximized our time in USJ, so after a full day of adrenaline and happiness, we walked out from USJ (with very sore legs) feeling contented. The first ride we headed to was Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey. They said this is the most wanted ride so the queue must be very long. But lucky us, we queued only about 30 mins long and there is one funny story. In the middle of the ride (we thought it was the middle because we hadn’t finished the ride yet), the machine stopped but we didn’t know any single thing about what happened because all we hear was japanese. Three of us were panicked at that 4-seated train, so we tried to ask what happened to one okasan beside me *me pulled out all my sumimasen-arigatou skill*. But all we got was silence and a blank stare from her that made us even more scared *laugh ih japanese*. Shortly afterward the ride was running again but when we reached the end of the ride, the train didn’t stop and we had 2 full rounds instead... okay the first round was anticlimax because of that technical problem and the second round was enough to made us had nausea 😂 nonetheless, the ride was amazing and very nostalgic (because it’s Harry Potter!!!). 

My second favorite ride is Hollywood Dream. The track is terrific and every single seat has its own monitor and speaker to let us choose the song we want to hear during the ride. I chose Happy - Pharell Williams (by sentimental reason) and I was superrrr happy and carried away by the whoosh. And the most *EPIC* ride goes to THE FLYING DINOSAUR!!! I was speechlessly astonished by the ride, the ride continuously gave me palpitations. I felt like I was literally flying as a flying dinosaur. Last but not least, though it wasn’t a ride, the highest appreciation goes to Hogwarts Castle Light Show. There are no words can describe how magical it was. My jaw dropped throughout the show. I love itttt.

Day-4: Kyoto Part 2

And this is my favorite day in Japan afterall. We went to Fushimi Inari by train and the comute was somewhat confusing because we should’ve had transit in 2 stations, we ended up getting off in the wrong station, 2 times, like a donkey. We arrived at Fushimi Inari a bit late, then we took some photos and bought some food from the local market near the gate. I got one big skewer of beef wagyu for only ¥500 and I still remember how delicious it was. We also bought some souvenirs there, argh all the souvenir shops in Japan are very cute and tempting. Then we headed to Arashiyama Bambo Forest. The bamboo forest was so-so, but I was impressed by the neighborhood around Arashiyama. Though it is tourist area, but the environment was very soothing and authentic, the momiji just enhanced the warm atmosphere, and the people was sooooo nice i could’ve hugged all of them. There are one road full of nice souvenir shops (still), no car passed by, just a few traditional rickshaw called jinrikisha pulled passionately by local man. Then we strolled around and ended in the popular Arabica coffee shop in Kyoto. The coffee shop was packed and it located by the lake. After we got our latte, we enjoyed it while comtemplating by the lake surrounded with momiji under the beautiful sky. The latte was so good itself and I was covered in joy. We had spare time at Kyoto so we decided to went back to Gion area just because we love it a lot. Last thing I knew, I already left my heart in Kyoto.

Day-5: Osaka

We spent full day at Osaka. This is basically our last day we have because tomorrow morning we already had to leave and it was the most freezing and stormy day we had in Japan. Even Japan was sad because we were about to go home :( Anyway we had so much fun and impressed by all Osaka has to offer. We had Matsuya for breakfast and dinner because we wanted to try all the menu and it was very cheap but also delicious haha and I tried natto for the first time! In the morning we decided to went to Don Quijote first to bought some (no, a lot) of souvenirs, then we went back to hotel to dropped the purchases and continued the itinerary. We went shopping at Shinsaibashi, strolled around Amerikamura, went to Umeda for the ferris wheel but too bad the ferris wheel was closed (yes our bad didn’t check the schedule) but Umeda is nice so we walked around Umeda. The day was getting dark, we were a bit confused where to go next, and we decided to go to Osaka Castle with zero expectation because it was dark and the museum was already closed. Turned out Osaka Castle remains beautiful in the dark, and we still mesmerized by the castle and its surroundings. We felt like we were living in kingdom era. Then our last destination is Shinsekai. It’s an old district built in 1912 with New York and Paris as the model, then neglected in decades afterwards. We just strolled around the neighborhood, it was full of restaurant, bar, spa, and other nightlife. Little did we know that Shinsekai is the most seedy and dangerous area in Osaka lol. Gratefully we arrived at our hotel safe and sound.

Day-6 & 7: Back to reality

NOOO i didn’t want this to be over, but life goes on and we had to leave Japan. But first thing first, we had breakfast at Matsuya for countless times haha. We also spent all our coins we had. Bought the things that hadn’t been bought yet in the last minute. What else to say... we headed to KIX and said our hardest goodbye to Japan. Still we had a good time in KIX, Changi, and in the airplane before we had to face the reality. The saddest part is, right after we landed safely in CGK and activated our phone, I received message from my family told me that my grandpa passed away that morning. Oops I’m sorry for ruining the ending :p All in all, this whole trip was a blast worth a lifetime.

What I love about Japan:

The food! It was all beyond my tongue could expect. 

The people was all friendly, kind, and *very* polite!!! *bowing sharply 90 degrees*

The vending machine you can find anything anywhere and the konbini store.

The technologies, facilities, transportation, cleanliness, they’re the best.

The balance coherence between the old and modern culture.

There are so many things Japan has to make you in love, but they say you don’t need a reason to love something (cringe).

Throughout my entire trip in Japan, it seemed like there was a balance between old and modern maintained by a strong appreciation of tradition from the times gone by. It’s something we’d never experienced in another country and made us instantly fall in love with Japan. It’s amazing to see two such extremes coexisting effortlessly and perfectly side by side. I was happy, delighted, amazed, surprised, and just plain impressed. I hope I can go back to Japan.

[91whiskeygirl]

Apple Pie

Inspired by Season 1 Episode 11| Scarecrow

Warnings| Smut, Angst, 18+ Violence

Story is altered from episode because I wanted to fit y/n/ in!

Words|5226

You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed the crisp air biting my face. You’ve lived in your hometown too long where you enjoyed the cold autumn weather.Your Y/H/C flowing out the car window as we passed the forest of trees that were like flames dancing in the wind.The colors were beautiful, you appreciated this time of year. You applied a liberal amount of chapstick, the menthol plumping your lips. You knew he was side staring once you started to smoothen it and pucker to get better coverage. A small bratty smirk lined your lips as you looked out the passenger window.

     “ Burkittsville?” Dean said,his brows furrowed, his one arm on the wheel and the other leaning out the car. “Yeah, a few times this time of year, it’s always a couple, they go missing in this town. Never seen again.”, You replied. “Doesn’t sound like our deal, but I am curious about the couple part…”Dean didn’t give you a side glance, this time, it was a full on intense stare with those green olive eyes of his. Those damn gems always made your heart skip a few beats. I looked to him and then straight ahead, nervous as fuck. You were never one to back down at a flirty staring contest; but when it was with Dean you knew you’d never win on the first round.”The couples…Y/N?” he continued, “Anything specific? Race, sexual preference?”. Oh, he didn’t mean it LIKE THAT.Clearing my throat,  I replied looking down at my phone,”Oh,no, but it’s always this time of year, the Fall equinox.”.You bit your lip and looked in the passenger mirror, remembering that Sam wasn’t sitting behind giving you that teasing smirk he always gives. He knew you had feelings for Dean, but never told Dean because it was too much fun seeing you melt over him and his older brother had no clue.

You turned slightly to face Dean.“….Are we gonna talk about how we just let Sammy take a trip down the yellow brick road?” I asked quietly.I hate confrontation, but it was gonna be a longer, awkward road trip to Indiana without mentioning Sam. “He made his choice.”, he said gruffly. He pressed the gas a bit more and revved Baby’s engine, looks like no matter what, it wasn’t gonna be an enjoyable ride. The silence was deafening. A bit of short talk about the case and some disagreements on what was making these couples disappear didn’t help the drawl of not having Sammy here. Baby just felt too light, too empty without him.

Finally making it to the town, your eyes immediately widened at the apple orchard. Miles of them upon arriving. Beautiful apples, plump and ready for the picking. You licked your lips, thinking it’d be nice to have some crispy, homemade apple pie, or warm pastries glazed with sugar frosting. Upon thinking anything else that’d have to do with eating; your stomach growled something fierce, “Someone’s hungry, heh.” Dean smiled looking at you as you tried to hide your stomach with your already layered military jacket. “The orchard….I’ve never seen anything like it, full of ‘em” you replied nervously. Nodding he touched your shoulder that made you shiver more than the autumn breeze. “Well luckily we’re not too far from a gas station, just a few more miles.”.

 A gas station up ahead with a little diner,you haven’t seen one of these combinations since you left your hometown, every gas station you stopped at on hunts had a small supermarket, all packaged and premade pies. It just wasn’t the same. But this made you feel all giddy, you were tired of the convenience store meals for the past few weeks, finding a case every now and then there just wasn’t time to have a home cooked meal. You immediately jumped out of the car before Dean shifted it in park at a pump, heading to the diner. “I’m gonna get us a table, talk to the local folk, see if they’ve seen anything strange.” You called out while already halfway to the diner. The cowbell rang while you opened the door, the air was warm, filled with many scents, but the most prominent one, cinnamon and apple. “YESSS!” You thought, trying to keep your composure. “Hi! What can I get for ya’?” a young girl with her blonde hair up, a pencil in her bun asked you. “Yeah, uh I smell something delicious, any famous desserts you sell?” “Our famous Apple Crumble Pie!” she brightly smiled . “I’ll get right on it,just for you?” “No, for my…” Your throat started to get dry after you said it. But it was the only way you’d both solve this case. “Boyfriend.”.

Dean parked the Impala and headed inside, “No, for my boyfriend too.”, when he saw and heard you say it his eyebrows raised,surprised. He never thought of you like that once, sure you were a pretty girl, but a bit too young considering he was going on late twenties and you were just at the legal drinking age. The blonde waitress walked into the entrance of the kitchen and you sat at a round table with a checkered table cover and sighed deeply. “So, boyfriend?” He half smirked, his eyes smiling as well. Chuck, you loved those dimples every time he smiled. It was always a rare sight. “Well, I mean… the victims are always…couples….and, I just thought…” You hated try to explain, but Dean beat you to it. “It’s alright Y/n, I get it. We should come up with cute nicknames and hold hands like those chick flicks you make us watch once a week.” You giggled lightly and slumped forward in your chair, “yeah, maybe we should take our slices of pie to go.” Oh my chuck, you actually said that out loud. He was taken aback, but being Dean Winchester he scooted his chair nearer to you, knees touching, elbow on the table, slowly bending forward and whispered in your ear, “I think I’m gonna need more than a slice after I’m done with you.” His breath gave your neck goosebumps as he tucked the stray hairs on the side of your face. You face hot, eyes glazed over.

“Here ya are! Two slices of our famous apple crumble pie!” The waitress served you, then Dean,still with that smile of his, leaning back into his chair, knees still touching, and he dug into that pie while still staring at you. “Yup, he’s gonna be the death of me. “ You thought.

 “Oh geez that was some damn good pie”, you said rubbing your stomach. Holding the box that encased a fuller version of that heavenly slice you just had. You sat back into Baby sighing. Halfway to sleepville and you heard Dean get in the car a few minutes later. Remembering what he said back in the diner immediately made you straighten up. “Talked to a friendly guy, says he doesn’t know anything about the couples missing, even though he’s worked here over 20 years.” “Great.”rolling your eyes. Seems the town had a deeper, darker secret other than the recipe that you tried to get from the waitress, but she gently declined since it was a family recipe. “I’m gonna check out the last place the latest couple went missing, you wanna go to the college?” He asked, starting Baby, turning out of the parking lot.

 “I’m surprised a young woman like you would be interested in our folklore.” A senior professor wrinkled his forehead,”Indiana doesn’t have that many stories.” With a friendly smile you replied “I’m just trying to get to know about the town more, and I’ve always loved to hear the ol’ times, I think your help would definitely make my term paper a staple example to the rest in my class.”.He looked through his eyeglasses at you standing there between his desk and him, he stood up and took a thick book from his shelf and placed it neatly while turning pages, a picture caught your eye, a scarecrow.

Dean made it to the orchard where the missing couple was last seen. A faint mist blanketing the area. He takes out his EMF meter and starts sweeping. “Why’d I say that so easily to Y/n?” He thought. He chuckled that he made your face red, that those pretty y/e/c of yours were wide eyed and shining at him as he touched you y/c hair, he would’ve loved to egg you on had it been an actual date and not a snack break from the hunt. The meter started to spike like crazy once he was a few hundred meters into the orchard, and there, he saw the scarecrow. Looking at it from all angles he stopped once he saw that one of its arms had a “nice tat” he said out loud, memorizing the tribal to see who went missing recently,the skin looked dry but still fresh at the same time. He was about to text Sam but quickly deleted his name from the messenger. The fight they had back there was different.They just got back into hunting together, and with all that happened, he didn’t think his brother would’ve just walked out on him, on them like that. He knew what to do to track who had the tattoo that went missing, but his muscle memory just made his gut heavy realizing he was abut to call Sam for help.

“y/n, got an idea on what might be making those couples go missing, call me back.” Shutting his phone and throwing it on the passenger side, he was on his way to the college to get you when he saw the sheriff’s car behind him “aw crap”.

“That, the scarecrow, what’s his deal?” you asked the professor and pointing at the image.His eyes squinted but went back to the book. “Ah, Vanir, it’s a fertility god, the settlers here believed that their town would thrive one they’ve sacrificed a man and woman, our town has a sacred tree, hundreds of years old.” “Where’s the tree at?”, you asked, closing the book and getting ready to head out,”Just a few miles from here, if you’ve passed the scarecrow you’ve gone too far.” “Thanks professor, thought I’ll get a couple of snap shots for my paper.” You swiftly turned to head out the door when you were butted in the back of your head with something hard, blacking out.

 “Something the matter officer?” Dean asked, looking up at the tall sheriff. “I hear around town that you’re asking all kinds of questions that shouldn’t be asked. I’m assuming you’re not a tourist and would suggest you head on outta town, you shouldn’t meddle into things you don’t know the full story of.”He peered down into the car window, glaring at Dean. “Now if I’d known better I’d say your going to escort me out.” “That’s right.” Dean smile turned into a faint grimace and he started up Baby, the sheriff already on his tail, once he was a couple miles out the cop car finally bleeped its siren and made a u turn, looking into the rearview mirror he did the same once he knew he wouldn’t be in the sheriff’s vision. “y/n, hope you got what we need to get rid of whatever this is.”he thought.

 “Ugh, what the….?” blinking rapidly trying to focus, your head pounded badly and your eye sight still hadn’t adjusted, you were in the orchard. Your jeans cold from the wet ground, you tried to stand and felt your wrists tightly bound over your head. “Son of a monkey’s ass!”.You couldn’t reach any of your knives, you scoffed thinking you should have modded your jacket so there would be an accessible pocket knife next time something else happens. Looking left then right you realized you were the only one tied. Recalling what the professor said,“A man and a woman.” Dean. You felt sick to your stomach. What happened to him after dropping you off at the college? You knew he was a warrior, but hunts are always unpredictable. The sun was about to set, you could tell even though the lush,tall apple trees blinded the sunlight. Fog started to blanket the ground and you shivered down your spine, you weren’t going to go down like this, helpless, tied to a friggin’ “sacred tree?” You saw markings you recognized from the book. The scarecrow was just a pawn, the tree is what held the dark power this town was built upon.

 Dean made his way to the college, y/n wasn’t on the stairs out front like she said she was going to be when she finished, it’d been a couple hours, more than enough time to get all you needed to know. He tried to call y/n’s cell and it went to voicemail after a few rings. “Her phone’s on, why the hell aren’t you answering dammit!” “Didn’t I tell you to skip town?” Sighing Dean looked over to the sheriff. “Small world, huh officer?” “Step out of the car.” SLAM, right on the hood of the cop car, cuffed, he shoved Dean into the backseat.”What the hell is your problem son? Couldn’t let bygones be bygone?” The sheriff said while driving a few miles out. Dean looked out the window, scanning everywhere to see if you were out there, but the fog was starting to get heavy, and soon darkness would fall. Trying to get the pick out of his back pocket once the car stopped, the officer got out to open the trunk. Any sudden movement would give way that he was trying to escape, the crappy leather seats weren’t helping, gripping every inch of him making it difficult to keep quiet and swiftly picking the lock at the same time. He got free til he tried to open the door,WHAP, right on the side of his temple.

 “Dean? Dean! Dean hey!” a slurred voice turning clearer as he shook his head, realizing he was tied up; his eyes opened wide as he came to see y/n by his side, “Oh y/n. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I should’ve known, this town is full of crazies.”.”It’s okay, Dee, you’re here, I’m just glad you’re here now.” Your small smile comforted him until he saw a tear run down your cheek. His jaw tightened and he started to try to free himself.

“We have no choice, our crops are starting to die.She’s our last hope for the town.””Like heck it is!” a distant voice from behind argued with the sheriff, “It’s the last day of the solstice, we have to do this.”, a woman replied. “Please! I don’t understand! Why are you doing this?” Y/n saw the blonde girl from the diner show up with her hands cuffed, followed by the sheriff behind her. “Uncle? Auntie? What’s going on?!” Her wet face showed her heart breaking as her uncle turned away and started walking “I’m sorry sweetheart, this is the only way.” They tied her next to Dean, whimpering and trying to break free once she was already tied to the tree.

The group scattered, and there was a silence in the area that just made it eerie. The lovely orchard you fell in love with in the afternoon drive soon turned into a forest with twitching branches and the moonlight shining on them made them look like the horrors that made you stay up at night. A shuffle made you and Dean start to get into gear try to get free, you both looked at each other and started to try to reach for his backpocket when he shook his head, no way we were going to get out of this, flexibility was one of your best qualities as a hunter but you wouldn’t be able to get out of this with your hands up in the air.

The shuffles grew louder, whimpers from the blonde waitress didn’t deafen it, you clearly recognized those steps. “Sam!” Oh chuck, you were all saved. “Sam?” Dean yelled out. “Hey”, he started to untie the girl first, then Dean.”How the hell did y-” “I, kinda stole a car.” A chuckle came out of Dean “That’s ma boy!” Untying your first hand, you grabbed your karambit that was hidden in your boot, and started to tear through the ropes around your feet. “I guess they knew to tie you up good…you’re a kicker hehe” Dean joked as you grinned at him. Standing up with the rest you heard screams coming from in front not far from where you all were standing.

A dark figure appeared walking through the trees and slicing, gushing of blood misting the brisk air through the moonlight. “Go GO GO!” Sam yelled grabbing the girl’s hand, Dean yours, starting to run. There was a line of sunlight rising from the hills and the eerie atmosphere started to dissipate. “Guys? I think it’s over”you said, catching you breath. Turning back around you went back to the tree and reached out for your lighter Dean got you for your 21’st. The silver flashing as the sun finally welcomed itself. Sam came back with Dean and a gallon of gas. “ What’re you gonna do? “ The girl asked softly as she followed behind Sam. “Burn it.”you replied, glaring at the markings on the tree. Looking up at it “I hope your apple pies were worth it”, you said as you set it on fire. Screeching burnt barks and green and yellow flames engulfed it, burning it into a crisp.

 “Sam, I’m glad you’re back.”You told him, hugging his humungous torso, gently tightening your grip. You know, for a shorty you have a bear grip” He chuckled petting your head. Smiling up at him you replied , ” Well my lovely qualities has to balance out with your brother’s cockiness” you glanced at Dean, his lips puckered and his eyebrows raised like those times you have a good comeback but he couldn’t think of anything to counter it. You let go of Sam and walked the waitress back to the diner. “You gonna be okay?” you asked her, a hand on her shoulder blade. “Yeah hun, I’m okay, just, I don’t know what to do. My aunt, my uncle” she softly sobbed. “It’s going to be okay. You still have the diner…” “No, there’s too many memories, I think I’ll just escrow it since it was going to be mine anyways. Thanks, for everything.” Once she went back into the diner y/n walked back to the impala where Sam was in the passenger side, “Hey sasquatch, mind if I sit in the back?” He grinned and nodded, you climbing into the back, you forgot all about the pie sitting, still closed in it’s box. You settled in your seat and saw Dean glance in the rear view mirror, giving you a smirk. It was gonna be a long ways back to the motel.

 Sam reserved two rooms, you called the boys for the day and stepped into the cozy motel room. Starting the bubble bath you promised yourself, you opened up a bottle of body wash that smelled of pumpkin pie. You always loved autumn and it’s aesthetic, hell even the pumpkin spice latte you’d have once in a while once Fall started, you admit, you were a basic Fall bitch. After lighting your pumpkin spice candle and placing it on the sink a knock came at your door. Quizzically wondering why the boys needed something after a hunt from you, you opened the door after checking the viewer.”Dean?”

 “Hey.”you said smiling, looking at him up and down, he was already in gray sweatpants and a black shirt with that favorite red flannel that you got him at a fall sale, and secretly wanted to wear.Your eyes moved up to his wide chest, your breath hitching when you saw his wet hair that made him look like a hedgehog. His pearly teeth showed a mischievous grin “So, how about that pie?” He raised his hand with the box from the diner. “Oh!” you perked up, opening the door for him, you went to get a couple glasses and the whiskey you had stored for emergencies. You suddenly felt heat from your core start to spread as you turned around and saw Dean right behind you looking down at you. The light from your nightstand lamp complimented every feature of him, from his jawline, the twinkle in his olive green eyes that you adored so much, and damn his chest for looking so toned under that thin shirt. “y/n? You know what you said at the diner?” “Look Dee, if this is just a one night thing I understand, I’m hardly the type of girl you’d go home with let alone our lives as hunters, it gets gritty….” you tried to look anywhere else other than his chest, his broad shoulders, his damn razor sharp jawline. But you’re e/c orbs looked up at his parted lips, instinctively licking your lips. He interrupted your objection with his warm lips on yours, his hands on the sides of your neck, you moaned helplessly into his mouth. Inviting his tongue after teasing your bottom lip you feel his lips turn into a smile “Baby girl, I don’t where this is going, but I don’t mind going with it.I need to hear it.” he whispered while softly teasing your neck with soft short kisses. “What?” Confused at what he was saying, you were just trying not to melt into a puddle as his hands traveled down holding your hips, his index fingers tracing the inner part of your jeans, waiting for consent. “Yes or no y/n? We’re friends, hell you’re younger than me, I don’t want to ruin what we-”You break his speech with a hard kiss, biting his bottom lip “Fuck Dee, please, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he carried you to the bed, smiling and admiring your curves as he put you down on the edge.

  He held your face kissing you softly and then eagerly, your tongues dancing together. You made your way touching underneath his shirt, you were so giddy you let out a giggle, feeling his abs. “Like what you feel Baby girl?” He asks as he stands taller and takes off his flannel then his shirt, eyes still on you. You had gone quiet and just nodded shyly biting your lip. He started to take off his sweatpants when you said “Sam”, he laughed and continued to undress to nothing, “Sweetheart, I think you got bopped in the head too hard today” You laughed back “No, I mean, he’s not leaving again is he? I mean are we gonna tell him whats going on between us too? If there’s going to be more of…this?” You placed your hands in the back of you leaning back into the bed. No, we’re good, and as for us, if you don’t feel comfortable we don’t have to tell him, but you are probably gonna have to find excuses as to why you keep asking for a separate room” He grinned back at you, leaning closer to you face to face, making your back arch, his lips close to yours again. “I guess we can have a bit of fun after tonight” you smiled, and grabbed him by the shoulders making you pin himself down on you, feeling his hardness twitching against your inner thighs.

You gasped softly when he made is way down to pull your jeans and underwear down, pausing for just a second then ripping your black lace underwear off in one motion. “DEAN, that’s one of my favorites!” you scolded him, he just laughed starting to give you kisses on your thighs, “Baby, I’m sure I can help you in finding more favorites”.

Having Dean on top of you made you want more, the heat form his body radiating on you, making your breasts peak. He kept kissing your thighs, working his way up to your stomach, then licking and nipping feverishly on to one of your nipples making your head go back, almost hitting the headboard. For chuck’s sake, his mouth was what you imagined and more. You grabbed the back of his head motioning him to lift his face and you softly smiled at him and kissed his dimples, then devouring his lips. “Dean, please, enough teasing” you whined. A growl came out from his chest and he started nipping at your neck and collarbone as he parted your legs, your hands on his hips to further guide him. A squeal leaked from your mouth as you felt his hot hand enter you slowly, the burn insatiable. “Mmmm feels like someone’s ready for Daddy” you giggled “Daddy? You got a kink Winchester?” “Well when you say it, hell yeah” he replied, licking his fingers. He kissed you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. He sat up on his knees a bit to guide his tip at your entrance, teasing your clit with it a few times till he went into you, you huffed out a deep exhale, wanting more of him, you looked at him, lying down on your back, lifting your right leg up to his shoulder, “Dean, fucks sake please move, I’m so wet” you told him, gripping his hips harder. He growled deeply as he slowly placed himself all the way in, you groaned in pleasure and your hands flew up to the sides of the bed, gripping the sheets. You and him fit perfectly snug, he waited a few seconds until you were adjusted, the heat from it all making you both breathe harder. “Shit y/n, you’re so tight” he whispered, gripping your leg on his shoulder, giving small kisses to your calf. You wiggled your ass begging for him to move and he did just that. Hungry to feel him at your spot. “Yea, yea Dean right there, I’m so close, fuck”, you whined. You didn’t care that you were a bit loud, this feeling in your core was about to burst. He started to rhythmically ride you, teasing your spot till you started stuttering his name.”I got you baby,come for me.”

He gripped your leg tighter and started to buck harder, hitting your spot every time. Your eyes rolled back and your hips lifted as your orgasm ran through you, clinging on him harder he grunted, not stopping “Yeah baby, such a good girl for daddy” He told you. The sweat on his chest trickled down on to your breasts and you let go of your leg to lift the both up to his hips, driving in deeper making you wetter. The sounds that came from both of you were pornographic, you were sure you’d have a complaint when you checked out the next day. “Dee, please, I want you to fill me up Daddy” You smiled crookedly, looking up at him, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. “oh ho, you’re gonna be the death of me y/n/” He smiled, and grabbed your breasts, slapping them a couple times before he closed his eyes and started to ride you roughly and unevenly.You could see his chest tensing and you knew he was near to his end, holding your legs on his hips tighter he thrust in a few more times and a loud growl came out as he filled you up, a heavenly feeling of his hot come in you, you started to hug him once he came down from his orgasm and placed a kiss on his forehead as he laid it on yours. “So,” you said to him, dew of sweat all over both of your bodies, still intertwined, his length softening in you ” how about that pie?” you smiled.

The end! Happy Halloween everyone! I’m surprised I actually finished this in time for the holiday, whew! Any requests are appreciated! I’m slowly making the playlist on Spotify,but I’ll definitely let you know when it’s fully up!

[blind-band-geek]

(say it with me now MOTHDAD MOTHDAD MOTH-)

In a small town such as winter river you wouldn’t assume it would have as many cryptid stories as it does. A popular one with the kids of the town was; the mothman. OR perhaps just a very large moth a child saw late at night. The story went as follows. The mothman was a creature of fear with a wingspan of up to 13 feet. With his massive wings he would flow over the small town looking for his next prey with eyes of red that none had ever seen. However, of course it was all hearsay. Not one human of the town had contact with their gruesome beast so who truly knew.

Tonight was a clear august night, and though all the locals had been in bed one woman had just left her home. On the tallest hill overseeing the town stood a tall and gorgeous country home. The inhabitant of the home was none other than Mrs. Barbara Maitland, a beauty of only middle age. She happen to have the urge to go on a walk this night, for good reason too it was a beautiful night for a stroll through town. As she closed the door of her home she looked out across the town as a screech echoed through the night that sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled her coat closer to her chest as she waited for the noise to die out. Her lips parted a bit as she looked over to the forest just by her home. Though she never believed in those children's tales she was told something in the ack of her mind always said “maybe.” So perhaps that's what she was out for tonight, but maybe just getting her flowers in for the winter would be just as nice.

Barbara wrapped her jacket around her, protecting her skin from the cold autumn air that swept through her hair. As she walked down the dirt road she could feel her brunet curls bounce behind her. Not much was happening this night, and in fact the town was rather quiet. As she approached town she noticed many of the lights and lamps were out due to a certain… something. Perhaps the small town was just paranoid, though barbara did need to see. As she walked into downtown she passed by a small store one she knew well. It belonged to her cousin Jane Butterfield, though not a cousin she liked all to well. She did admit Jane was also always paranoid of Barbaras late night walks so she had always left a small lamp of sorts outside her shop. She went over to the side of the door and clicked on the lamp. It was a small lamp but enough to see where she was going. Since it was starting to get cold she had to bring in her plants that surrounded Maitland hardwear, the store she ran with her husband. Speaking of her husband… where was he-

CRASH

Her thoughts were interrupted by a large crash that made her jump and just being her the lamp that she was using was completely smashed to bits on the ground, the light long went out.

Nervous now of her surroundings she scanned the area for a possible threat, but here, at this time? Surely no one was up… unless. She looked up at the small hardware store just a few feet in front of her, looking up at the roof she saw him. Illuminated by the full moon his blood red eyes were the only thing that stood out from the ruffle of black and grey feathers. She took a step back wrapping her jacket once more protectively around her. She saw as the creatures head jerked slightly to the side, the black anteni on his head moved a little more rapidly. They stared at each other for a while till barbara took a step closer. He quickly jumped to his feet from the perched position he was in, his wings flared open obscuring the moon from her line of sight, and just as quickly as he was there. He was gone.

Barbara's eyes darted around the small town listing hard for any wing beats that could possibly be heard. Another screech came from a bit away, though when she faced that way she couldn’t see those eyes anywhere. She shuffled her feet and pulled at her coat, where had he gone? But perhaps she was lucky, for due to legends no one that had meat the fabled moth man had lived to tell the tale. Perhaps this was a blessing, meaning she would see another day in one piece. At the sound of faint wing beats behind her mind went at ease, and with the sound of footprints coming as soft as they could toward her, her face turned into a small smirk. She felt a soft tuft of fur press against her neck and,

“Give it up Adam i'm not afraid.” The tuft of fur pulled away and barbara turned around to see a flustered moth man looking back, “Really?” She nodded, “really”. Adam let out a sigh as he folded back his wings and walked over to his wife wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He rested his head on her shoulder as he spoke again.

“I really think it was good that time! The eyes! The wings! It was all there! It always works” his eyes looked over to barbara who hummed quietly, “And you did great dear,it would have made anyone in this town run but.” she also rested her head a little on Adams as he extended one of his wings protectively around Barbara. “I can’t be scared by the one I married.” she smiled a little and Adam felt proud that at least Barbara knew he tried. He felt Barbara move of him a bit so he retracted his wing around her. Their eyes met as Barbara gave the moth a slight smile and he returned it with a fangy grin. Barbara let out a soft fit of giggles, at times he was just to much.

“Just come here.” She let her hands intertwined with his, coming a bit closer she let her lips press against his, and Adam took no time to kiss the mortal back. Her lips were soft against his.

After awhile they eventually broke away from each other, hands still intertwined Barbara shivered a bit. Adam took not of this and once again wrapped his wing around her shielding her from the cold autumn breeze. “It’s getting late have you had enough time to stretch your wings dear?” Adam nodded and looked up at their home that was perfectly highlighted by the moon. “Alright , I suppose we should start to walk back-” She let out a soft squeak as Adam swept her off her feet, literally and figuratively. “Absolutely not! I have wings for a reason Barb! And what kind of a husband would i be if i didn't fly you back?” She laughed and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, “Adam that might have been the most poetic thing i've heard you say since we've been married.” Adam smiled another goofy moth grin, “You think? I've been working on it!”

“Well it obviously worked! Look, you have swept me off my feet already!” The couple laughed in the little vacant town forgetting mostly about their trip back home. As their laughter died down Barbara peered over Adams wing to see the smashed lantern by Janes building, she then looked up at Adam who was still laughing a bit to himself. “Hon, did you really get attracted to that lamp?” Adam stopped and looked over to the lamp on the ground, than to his wife. “Lets just say maybe I did, leaves a lot less explaining to do in the morning.” The couple laughed again. Barbara threw her arms around the man's neck as they shared another passionate kiss giggles escaping every now and then. Perhaps the Mothman wasn’t all he was chalked up to be after all.

[lindoig4]

Across Canada

I will try to post a little more text today, but the internet service here is pretty poor so I will leave posting of any more photos until we get home.  We leave the US this evening and arrive back in Melbourne before dawn on Wednesday, having missed an entire day along the way.

We took a cab to Union Station to catch the VIA Rail across the country.  We have usually paid cab fares by card, but Heather used cash this time.  The cabbie gave her a few coins as change and when Heather said that there should have been some notes, he said he was keeping that as his tip - about 50% of the fare.  Heather argued, but he bullied her and insisted that he was keeping it.  Had I been closer instead of getting our bags out of the boot, he may not have been so demanding, but it left a sour taste in our mouths as it was.

The train is by no means luxurious, obviously oldish, but it is quite functional and we are comfy enough in our little cabin.  One good thing is that the bunks are bigger and much more comfortable than on the ship or the other trains we have used.  We have both slept well.

On the other hand, there is no WiFi at all, only an occasional phone signal and although there are 110-volt power outlets, they won’t charge my PC - so once again, the technology has failed us.  Maybe I am naive, but we are now in the 21st century and I reckon basic power and signal issues should have been sorted out years ago.  As it is, the battery in my PC is flat and there is no way I can use it until we reach Vancouver at best.  That means I can’t look at my photos or do much with my blog other than draft bits on my iPad.

Canada is exquisitely beautiful.  It is an absolute picture postcard, full to bursting with trees and lakes.  The overwhelming colour is green, with literally billions of tall skinny pointy trees.  Actually, they are not that tall. We have seen very few trees more than 8-10 metres tall, but there are zillions of them, mostly densely packed with both understory and overstory.  In some places, it is a bit more open, but still usually gloomy and mysterious, inviting us to explore - if only we were out there in the bush.  Aspen, larch, spruce, alder, birch, pines and firs, conifers of every description, millions of stark white trunks, black trunks, all sorts, drowning in a thousand shades of green, leaves shimmering in the breeze, gleaming in the sun, with just a smattering of autumn tones starting to appear here and there.

Then there are the thousands of lakes.  We must have traversed 1000 kilometres of marshy land with water shimmering through the low vegetation as far as we could see.  But there are thousands of open lakes as well, from just a hectare or two to those speeding past the train for kilometre after kilometre.  Did I say picture postcard?  We have seen them all. The little ones that look like they came out of a cutesy 50s or 60s movie, with the summer camp atmosphere - a few canoes tied up to a little landing, a pontoon and shallow diving board, a short rowing course, maybe a pathetic little waterski-jump and a collection of quaint little huts that are probably family holiday shacks.  Then there are the more remote ones, some with a tiny island or two with just 2 or 3 perfectly conical fir trees on them and a kayak tied up to a partly-submerged drowning landing that defies imagination about how one might access it - not even a hiking track, much less a road, in sight.  Then we have the larger ones with a couple of small tinnies out there, each with a fisherman or two, sound asleep with their rods dangling limp over the side, or perhaps the ten deserted sheds, some literally falling down, and only a tiny Cessna anchored to the shore to suggest that anyone might occasionally visit them.  We are not talking upscale Hillbilly country.  This is magically picturesque country that should warrant criminal charges if anyone but us invades it.  Add your own superlatives, but for me, I have run out.  Simply stupendously glorious!

Later.  We have just crossed the border from massive Ontario into Manitoba - after more than 20 hours heading west.  Slowly, the trees and lakes seem to be getting slightly larger, the terrain is a little more open, the trees a little lighter green and the wildflowers more profuse and colourful - mainly white, yellow and mauve/purple.

For the entire trip, there has been a line of telegraph posts and cables beside the train: around 20 cables, but obviously long defunct.  Thousands of the posts have simply sunk into the boggy earth or fallen over or submerged into the lakes, and many of the cables are broken or hanging limp and tangled.  I am amazed that nobody has attempted to salvage the hundreds of thousands of dollars of copper out there.

As we went west, it became a little hillier and we even went through a couple of short tunnels.  We also went through many cuttings where the rock had been blasted away for the track.  There was a lot of red in the rocks and it is likely that some sort of algae was growing on it to make it that colour.

It was getting dark when we rolled into Winnipeg, but we had an hour and a bit stopover, so we went into the station and used the WiFi to download our email - alas, mostly more bills to pay!  I had prepared a few emails to send, but they were all on my PC and inaccessible due to the flat battery!

It was a very rocky night, but we were up early for showers.  I raised the blind just a centimetre or two in our cabin and could see everything there was to see.  The landscape was entirely in landscape.  Flat, flat, flat - all the way to the horizon. Everything looked manicured as if the farmers had risen early and swept or ironed their paddocks to welcome us.  A bit later, we saw patches of forest and lots of neat (or sometimes sprawling) farmhouses, often with 2 or 3 little cottages and a barn or two, and mostly at least a field-bin or ten (or 30) and a tractor parked nearby.  Many farms also have a machinery graveyard, usually at a distance from the house, with rows of rusty tractors, trucks, cars, pick-ups, ploughs, harvesters, caravans, campers and who knows what, all lined up in their final resting places, slowly sinking into the landscape.  The houses all have pitched rooves, presumably to avoid too much snow collecting on them in the winter.

The paddocks are mainly cropped with wheat, barley, oats and canola, but there is also a lot of uncropped land, mostly looking too boggy to crop.  Quite a bit of the uncropped land is still productive though, with miles of road and rail verges being harvested and baled for silage.  It is obviously harvest time over here with quite a lot of crop already cut, but with plenty more still to go.  We haven’t seen much actually being harvested, but plenty of hay bales in neatly shorn paddocks.  There are a few cattle but no big herds.  Also a few horses, half a dozen goats, a donkey, a young deer standing beside the track staring at me - and at least one fox scampering across the prairie with four magpies harassing it.  It was nearly two days later before we saw any sheep: about 20 near one house and 3 at another – then none through to Vancouver.

There have been a few shallow lakes, mainly fairly small and at last, a few birds.  We crossed one wide river, very shallow with flat mud islands and hundreds of birds: all gulls and Canada Geese as far as I could see.  It is very frustrating not having any internet because I can’t identify the birds conclusively without my favourite Merlin app, but I am taking photos and making notes and hope I will be able to tie some of them down later.  It is even more frustrating that Heather can sit there posting to Facebook and her blog almost any time when the SIM we purchased for me doesn’t work in either my phone or my iPad!

There were a few places along the rivers and nearby lakes where I suspect beavers were at work.  A couple of creeks appeared to be dammed and there was an area near one suspected lodge where a whole lot of smallish trees had been felled – all with pencil-sharpener bases.  And I saw a few flat conical structures a metre or so above the water level – again with a collection of pick-up-sticks pencil-ended logs embedded in the structure.  I could be just imagining it, but the indications seemed to be there that beavers could have created the dams and underwater pyramids.

It is strange that we rocketed through the night, speeding along much faster than anywhere to date, making for a very bumpy ride - then arriving in Saskatoon where they said we were way ahead of our timetable so there would be a two hour stopover to get back on schedule.  Go figure!  The track we are on is apparently owned by a freight company and freight trains always have priority.  This means that we frequently need to stop at sidings or on branch lines, often for half an hour or more until a freight train passes.  The freight trains are massive, up to about 3 kilometres long and mostly double-deckers that roar along carrying hundreds of thousands of tonnes of cargo across the country day and night.  They are not as bad as in Russia where a few kilometres of freight barrelled past us every time I raised my camera for a shot, but there must still be at least several dozen here each day.

Next time we woke up, we were in Saskatchewan and the terrain slowly became more varied, with lumpy low hills, uneven ground, more diverse vegetation, taller trees and in due course, we had an hour or so stopover in Edmonton and next morning we rolled into Jasper in the Canadian Rockies.  Our Edmonton stop was marked by the start of a dramatic electrical storm. It was really ferocious with lightning flashing brilliantly around us every few seconds.  We went to dinner as it was getting dark and the lightning outside the dining car was tremendous.  We were soon locked up, cosy in bed, but several other passengers said the electrical storm was amazing and followed us for hours.

[whatshouldieatforbreakfasttoday]

Romania road trip with my kid

Romania is like a different world. World of beautiful lands, kind and helpful people, delicious food. It’s also a land of surprises. We were supposed to be there way longer, but life made it short. We’ll be back for more, as once you come to Romania, you cannot forget it.

The things yo should know about Romania:

- it’s safe to travel by van- as Romania is not number 1 destination (not yet at least) this will be most probably, one of the first things you will try to figure out. We parked in the wild, in towns and villages and the only thing that you can expect from the locals is that they will invite you for a breakfast.

- it is extremely beautiful, so try to discover as much as possible.

- road condition is not the best, there are many constructions on a way and it will slow you down, but highways are awesome.

- some roads like transalpine are closed for half of the year, so check it out before going there. We did not and we had to go back.

- you can see a lot of food stands on the road, buy your food there as it’s delicious.

- horse carriage on a road is a regular view, which does not mean that I was super excited each time I saw it.

- there are many castles and each of them is advertised as Dracula’s. It may be not, but it is still worth visiting. These places have a hell of history and by visiting you support it.

- you should have a cash on you, as there’s not so many places on the road where you can pay by caRD. Obviously big cities are easy, but countryside not that much.

- Romania has a crazy good internet and internet deals. You can get a SIM card with 60GB for a very good price. I love Romania for this, it made my life so much easier.

- How to find a place for the night - We found many perfect spots for the night just by driving. We usually start to look around at 5-6pm. I can get that at the beginning, it may be difficult for you, or you think it will be. There are many apps and www that can help you and since the internet is not a problem in Romania, use them as much as possible. Examples: Park4night, iOverlander, furgovw.org.

- Romania is super child friendly. My 3 year old loves it and Romanians loved her. She got a lot of food for free and a lot was forgiven (I’m talking about her creative mess).

- food is important in Romania, so when you order something, order as much as you can eat, don’t leave leftovers.

- talk with people. A lot of people speak English, but it will be helpful and well seen (as everywhere in the world) to speak some local expressions.

Try placinta and mici!

OUR ROUTE:

Apuseni Natural Park - we got here at night, straight from a border. I found a spot for the night online and we set it up as our first destination. We got there at night and I must say that it was pretty scary. We were driving with a stone road, trying to drive around big stones and holes, it was narrow, I could not see where I am, Internet was not working and I could not turn back. We got to the spot which was supposed to be the spot and there was nothing. There was a fog and I kept thinking about vampire movies. We were so tired that I stopped on a side of the road and I went to sleep. When we open the for two dogs started to bark like crazy. I read about homeless dogs in Romania so we closed ourself in the van and decided to drive away first thing in the morning. When I woke up at 5:30 am, ready to drive away, I saw horses sleeping next to my car. One of them was licking our side mirror as it was covered in saliva. The sun was rising and the place I’ve been in was so beautiful, that I stood next to a horse and I stared. There was a hut where a lady was selling local treats, meantime sheep and cows were making their way through the park and just next to our car. Tomasz set up his office in a shadow of our van and I was playing with Mia in a muddy pad. It was so beautiful, that I wanted to stay there forever.

Muzeul Castelul Corvinilor - it is quite a place. I am a big fan of castles in general, so I’ll always advise to visit as many as possible. In this one you can learn a lot of history and it is simply cool to walk around and imagine how it used to be. We stopped for a night at a parking just next to the castle, so I could easily reach it for the sunrise with no-one around.

Sibiu is simply beautiful. The architecture, food, people, vibe, all in one make a beautiful city. I think my favourite :) It was fairly easy to find a parking and definitely too difficult to find a place to eat. Why? Because each one looked good :D

Viscri someone wrote me that Prince Charles has a couple of houses in this tiny village and I must tell you, that I wanted to buy a property over there as well. It is not only beautiful, but friendly and relaxing. In the morning you can see women sitting on benches in front of their houses and making socks. The blacksmith will invite you over to see how he lives. To walk around this village is such a pleasure itself.

Sighisoara - it is as beautiful as Sibiu, just bigger (or at least this was my impression). We had a delicious lunch over there and wandered around. Because this is what you do in cities :D

Transalpina - one of the highlights of our trip to Romania. It was an incredible drive. Just look at the pictures. It reminds me of Italian mountains and Norwegian as well. We were stopping quite a lot just to look, most of the times I even forgot to take a picture. There’s so many beautiful places to park your car, like just next to a river or in a big forest. Transalpina has some limitations on driving, so please google it before you go.

We did not see many places in Romania, as our car had a serious issue and we had to go back. I honestly regret it and this made me like Hymer way less (later on we’ll have more reasons). As we like to see the glass half full, we can go back to Romania in Autumn, which is apparently the best time to visit.

[the-magnus-archives-archiver]

First Hunt

Case: 0100912

Name: Lawrence Mortimer Subject: His hunting trip to Blue Ridge, Virginia  Date: December 9th, 2010 Recorded by: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

I always wanted to go hunting. It always seemed such a manly sort of pursuit. I mean, killing the deer or elk or whatever else was always beside the point; it was just the idea of setting off into the wild, surviving out there, cooking and eating what you kill – it all sounded like such an adventure. I mean, I’d thought about trying it in this country, but shooting pheasants with shotguns and riding down foxes all seemed too much the domain of, uh, nitwits in tweed. So, if I was going to go hunting, I would need to go to another country to do it. Somewhere where they had a few animals worth going after. Thinking about it, I suppose that is what happened in the end, in a perverse sort of way. And it did cost poor Arden his life.

Well, my desire to go hunting was always something of ‘someday’ project. I’m sure you know what I mean: those ideas you have, holidays you plan to do ‘sometime in the future’, but they’re never time- dependent and usually you just keep putting them off for more pressing things. So when I turned fifty back in February, I thought, ‘dash it all, I’m going to go hunting before I drop dead!’ When I told my friends they all thought I’d gone loopy, but I just reminded them that it isn’t just the young that can be impetuous and daft.

Anyway, over the past few years I’d become great friends with an American. Arden Neeli was his name. We’d met on a sceptics message board and got on like a house on fire. When I mentioned I was looking into impetuous hunting trips, he asked how averse I was to hiking. I said not at all, I’ve a been a very active sort, and he told me that in Virginia, his home state, there were a lot of excellent places to go hunting, providing I didn’t mind waiting until October or November. I wasn’t exactly expecting the Grim Reaper to come knocking in the intervening months, so I told him it sounded lovely.

We spent a good long while discussing it, and finally decided to take a three day hike into Blue Ridge on the Appalachian Trail, and see if we could find a deer or an elk for me to shoot. Nature, seclusion and guns – to my ears it sounded just perfect. 

So, early last month I packed my bags and caught a plane over to Virginia. The weather was cold but otherwise pleasant, and to be honest I was surprised how similar it felt to Torquay in November. I normally live in Torquay. I think I put that on your form there. If I did, it won’t hurt you to have it written down twice. I wasn’t, however, fully prepared to meet Arden in person. I’d never met an Internet friend in real life before, and he was far louder and more outgoing than I was prepared for, based on the well thought-out and considerate communications we had previously exchanged. He kept laughing at everything I said as though it was a joke, even when it wasn’t a joke, and would not stop going on about my accent.

Still, all was forgiven when he showed me his gun cabinet. They were beautiful, and while I’m a member of a few shooting clubs over here, you’ve always got to keep your rifles under lock and key, hidden away out of sight. To see a dozen, well-cared for weapons displayed proudly, well, it was just lovely.

We set out the following day, driving up to Blue Ridge from his home in Richmond. It took some time to get there, as everything is so much further apart in America, but we parked at Crabtree Falls shortly after midday. We had our tents and our supplies. I was very excited to don my hunters orange, and to take up my rifle. I was carrying a Winchester M70, which I had read was very good for beginners, while Arden carried a Remington Model 673, his preferred firearm, which he talked about to me at great length. And off we went up the trail.

Our first day was unsuccessful. I was something of a blundering presence, and though Arden was at pains to assure me that our failure was simply due to being too close to a road, I was sure that it was my own crashing footsteps scaring away the creatures. I mean, we hadn’t gone far compared to our proposed route, but we were already several miles from the nearest road.

As the day wore on, we began to look for somewhere to set up camp. We were attempting to “Leave No Trace”, as the Americans say, so we were likely going to set our tents up on the trail itself, but as we began to get them out I heard the strangest thing. It sounded like somebody whistling, a slow version of The Farmer in the Dell or, as I believe it’s more commonly known, A-Hunting We Shall Go.

I looked over, and by the expression of puzzlement on Arden’s face it was clear he heard it as well. I was just about to call out to whoever was whistling, when a figure wandered very casually through the treeline and onto the trail. He walked out of thick woodland as though he were strolling down a promenade. He was short and lean, with long, shaggy black hair and a slightly unkempt goatee. His clothes were the rugged, durable sort you’d expect to see on a hiker, but he had no jacket or coat. He carried no backpack or kit of any sort. In fact it seemed like he was just wandering through the woods with the clothes on his back.

Arden was quicker to pick up on this than I was and asked the man if he needed any help. The hiker stared at him for several long seconds, as though trying to deduce something, then smiled and said, “No”. I didn’t like that smile one bit. Far too many teeth to it, I’d say. He asked us where we were heading, how long we were on the trail for. There was something ever so slightly odd about his intonation, and he dragged the Rs somehow when he spoke. We answered as vaguely as we could without being rude, since neither of us felt comfortable near this man.

The hiker shrugged, and started to walk across the trail, between us. As he did so, he paused for a second, and took a deep breath, and it seemed for all the world like he was sniffing us. Then he said something, I forget exactly. “Tomorrow will be a good day for a run,” or something like that. And then he just started whistling again, and wandered off into the forest behind us. I think both myself and Arden wanted to stop him, it was so clear something wasn’t right with the situation, but we were both... astounded with his manner and I don’t think either of us could have thought of how to do so. And then he was gone.

I needn’t tell you that sleep came difficult. The sounds of the forest at night were far louder than I had ever heard them back home, and every cracking branch, every rustle of leaves, set my nerves on edge. It was an overcast night, and outside the tent was almost completely dark. Around two o’clock in the morning I could have sworn that I heard someone laugh, slow and softly, outside my tent. It sound like it was right by my head, just the other side of the thin nylon wall. By the time I’d managed to get up the courage to check, of course, there was nobody there.

The next day we packed up the camp and set off hunting again, donning our lurid orange vests and rifles. I must admit, I felt ten times better with the weight of the gun in my arms, and was inclined to put the events of the night before behind me. In fact, after a morning spent walking and joking and, on two occasions, damn near bagging an elk, I thought we were both having a splendid time.

It was about four in the afternoon, the sun just starting to begin its descent towards an early autumn dusk, when I saw my elk. I don’t know why, but when I saw him through the trees I knew that he was mine. I told Arden and we started to creep towards it very slowly. He had been teaching me since yesterday, and it wasn’t long before I had my position, and raised my gun. I sighted it just below the ear, and there was a moment, when its head turned right towards me. I could have sworn it looked me in the eye as I prepared to pull the trigger.

A gunshot rang out, but it was not from my gun. The elk startled and ran, and I spun round, but Arden was nowhere to be seen. The shot still echoed through the trees, but he seemed to have vanished. I began to search frantically for him. Had he... Had he been lured away by an elk of his own? Had he been accidentally shot by some other hunters? I called out his name, but there was no reply. 

Eventually, after several minutes of desperate searching, I came to a small clearing. There, slumped against one of the trees was Arden. He was dead. The tree behind him was painted in a spray of crimson, and there was a messy hole in the centre of his throat, as though it had been torn out entirely. His rifle lay next to him on the ground, also coated in blood. It seems silly to say now, but my first thought was to check his pulse. So I put my gun down to do so. Obviously he didn’t have one, but I couldn’t understand what was happening. I’d been with him not three minutes before and he had been alive and unharmed. It didn’t make sense.

Then I heard that whistling. That infernal whistling from the treeline. I turned and there was the hiker. His right hand was coated in Arden’s blood, and he grinned at me. Then he began to sprint. His speed was incredible, and he loped from side to side with a sort of zigzag motion. I ran. I know I should have picked up my gun, but you can’t understand just how frightening it is to have something like that, a true predator, running at you full pelt. Your death charging towards you like freight train. You can’t understand what it is to be prey. So I ran.

I turned tail, leaving my pack and my gun behind, and sprinted into the woods. I didn’t look back, I couldn’t. It took all my concentration to keep my footing, to not trip. I could hear him occasionally behind me, as he charged through a bush or scratched against a tree. I think he did it deliberately, you know. To let me know he was still there. There’s no way I could have won that footrace, but I think he must have been toying with me. After a while I could no longer hear him directly behind me, so I slowed to catch my breath. I’m in good shape, as I say, but I’m not a young man and I was dizzy with the exhaustion.

I sat there, so intent on listening out for any sign of danger, of this man, that I barely even noticed night fall. There were no clouds that night, and I was glad, since I had left my torch along with my pack. If I was to run at all during the night, I would need the moonlight to see by. Of course, any experienced hiker would tell you never to travel the woods at night, and certainly not to run through them, but I hardly had any choice if it came to it. And of course it did. The night was barely half an hour old when I heard it again, that... whistling, then the words floating through the trees, but with an low, bass tone to them. “A-hunting we shall go, A-hunting we shall go”.

And once again I ran. By all rights I should have broken my neck, charging off into the darkness like that. I should have tripped on a root or put my foot in a rabbit hole. I should have at least twisted my ankle. Somehow this didn’t happen, though; I ran and ran and, well, I just kept running. It didn’t seem to do me any good, of course. I was still far slower in the dark than I had been during the day, and it was obvious my pursuer could easily outpace me if he wanted to. So many times I’d hear that song coming from in front of me, and turned sharply to avoid it, until I was utterly lost. 

Finally, I broke through the treeline. I thought at first I’d found another clearing, but looking down, I saw I was next to Arden’s mutilated body. The wretched thing had just sent me in a circle. For fun. For the chase. I was tired, scared, covered in scratches and bruises over my entire body, and for nothing. I was still going to die.

I turned to face my fate, and for the first time that night got a good look at my hunter. The moonlight shone on him in full and what I saw was not human. It’s hard to describe exactly, but everything about him was sharper. His fingers, his teeth, his face, his eyes. His skin.

As I looked at him, the strangest thing popped into my head. Have you ever read The Duchess of Malfi? I had to study it for my O-Levels, many years ago. Dreadful play, as I remember, the worst sort of old revenge tragedy, all incest and murder and madness. But there’s a line that stays with me, a doctor diagnosing the Duchess’ brother with lycanthropy. As I recall it goes, “Once met the duke, ‘bout midnight in a lane behind St. Mark’s church, with the leg of a man upon his shoulder. Said he was a wolf. Only difference was, a wolf’s skin is hairy on the outside, his on the inside”. Looking at this thing that wanted to kill me, it’s the only way it’s the only description that feels right.

He didn’t charge this time, but slowly stalked towards me. I was... acutely aware of the loaded guns by my feet, but I’d seen how fast it could move and I didn’t rate my chances. It got close. Close enough that I could smell the foetid breath. Close enough that I could see the most disturbing thing illuminated by the moonlight: the slick drool on its lips as it salivated in anticipation of a kill. Then it attacked me. 

I am, in some ways, very proud of how I acted during that encounter. You see, as long as the thing didn’t think I was any sort of threat, I hoped it might get sloppy and clearly telegraph its strike. I was right; it drew back its arm and swung a clumsy, triumphant blow. I forget, did I mention my military background? Well, I used to be an officer in the Air Force. Now, it’s been a long time since the Gulf War, and I didn’t do much in the way of hand-to-hand fighting even then, but the training is something that stays with you. It certainly served me well for this one, desperate move, as I caught his arm and pitched his motion around. His claws dug into my shoulder, but missed my neck, and he fell to the floor, tripped by his own momentum. He began to get to his feet almost immediately, but it brought me the precious seconds to grab my rifle and press it to his chest. I didn’t hesitate.

The shot ripped through him and he jerked in pain. Not wanting to take any chances, I fired again and again and again until my rifle was empty. Then I picked up Arden’s rifle and emptied that one into him as well. 

Even after all of that, he still wasn’t dead. He had three bullets in his heart, two in his head and many more through the rest of him, but still he writhed there, making weak noises. I didn’t know how long this would slow him down for, but I hoped it would give me enough time to escape properly. I looked back as I left the clearing to see him slowly and painfully pushing his claws into his chest, digging for the bullets.

It was luck that saved me, in the end. Some park rangers were driving past our trail on a road about two miles distant. They were coming to investigate the gunshots and I stumbled on to the road through sheer good fortune. I never saw that thing again, or Arden, unfortunately, though they managed to find and recover his body about a week later. I don’t think I’ll try hunting again. I know the thrill of power that comes with the ability to end the life of something weaker than you, but... I can’t forget what it’s like to be the hunted.

Archivist Notes: 

Hunted. Yes, I think I’m starting to know the feeling.

Arden Neeli was found dead half a mile off the Appalachian Trail in Virginia on 1st December 2010. His death was ruled a wild animal attack. Mr Mortimer was treated for physical and mental trauma, but was not implicated in his death. Quite frankly that’s all the investigation I’m willing to do on this one.

‘Wolfmen in America’ is too far-fetched and too far away for me to care about. It’s... been two months now since Martin returned and we became the ones being... hunted. Are we being hunted? Martin’s still living here, and I’m leaving less and less. The worms keep turning up. We kill them, but there are more each week. What is she waiting for?

Source: Official Transcript and Podcast (MAG 31 First Hunt)