#its brim dusted with a few fine snowflakes

[animex001]

[sxvxrxssnape]

Snolidays/Snapemas: Day 2

Chestnuts & Christmas Cards // pre-PS/the years between. Minerva & Severus friendship aka Minerva McGonagall’s personal mission to make Sev love Christmas part 2. 

Yesterday’s snowfall had turned to ice overnight. It crunched underneath their boots, leaving behind a trail of sunken footfalls as they crossed the stone bridge and moved towards the tall, wrought iron gates that secured the ancient school. 

The wind wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but Severus still took a moment to adjust his hat, pulling it down over his ears to keep his hair from flitting about in his face. Beside him, Minerva had her hands tucked into the pockets of her woolen cloak and together they made their way towards the waiting carriage that would take them into Hogsmeade. 

Hogsmeade was a special little town that sat nestled between crashing ocean waves and giant boulders, an endless expanse of pine trees, and the outline of an antiquated castle perched high above the cliff sides. It was home to a quaint collection of little shops and taverns, and judging by its newly renovated state, a smattering of wizards who seemed to love Christmas just as much as the deputy headmistress standing beside him. 

“December literally just started.” Severus groaned, as he stepped out of the carriage and looked around the main street that stretched out before them. 

Bundles of garland and red ribbon decorated every light post and rows of twinkling lights and colorful baubles hung from all the nearby trees. Even the air smelled festive and Severus’ lips thinned as he made out the scent of warm cinnamon and ginger - out of contempt or poorly hidden delight, he would never confirm.

Minerva chuckled softly beside him as he eyed the snow-covered rooftops with their dripping icicles that couldn’t be intentional - it was the weather’s doing, for Merlin’s sake - but still seemed intentional against the decorated storefronts that it made him think of gingerbread.

“You don’t have to look so put out,” Minerva teased, leading the way further into what he was now seriously debating was even Hogsmeade at all, “If you want, we can start decorating the castle as soon as we return. I’m sure Albus won’t mind.” 

Severus glared at her in return,

“I’ve changed my mind,” he decided, as they passed the stone statue of the town’s founder confirming this to, in fact, be Hogsmeade and not an asinine Christmas village Minerva had secretly tricked him into going to, “I can just owl-order the things I need, from the safety of the castle.”

Regardless, he continued towards the waiting apothecary because he could not - would not - owl order potion ingredients. He couldn’t trust the shopkeeper (or the blasted school owls for that matter) to fully understand why it was so important for his bicorn horns to be the exact shade of pale yellow he needed or the fragility of bursting mushrooms. 

And contrary to his current attitude, Severus Snape didn’t hate Christmas. He could appreciate a finely decorated tree and he found himself looking forward, and dare he say, a little excited about the upcoming staff holiday party. He wasn’t the bitter, old man inside that Minerva seemed to think he was, all bah-humbug and scowls when it came to anything remotely festive, he just didn’t understand the point of overdoing it and turning the whole town into a fragrant - wonderful smelling - gingerbread village two days into December. 

For Merlin’s sake, he was only twenty-five. That wasn’t enough time for him to turn resentful of the holidays, even if almost every single year had been...less than stellar, by all accounts. It wasn’t like he had never tried to have a good Christmas either, but after so many spectacularly failed attempts, he had decided he was better off not celebrating it at all. 

In fact, he had been quite content the last four Christmases working at Hogwarts and only acknowledging the aforementioned holiday party and maybe the changes to the menu, because yeah, he might feel a little indifferent towards the holiday but he also wasn’t a heathen who didn’t gladly indulge in rum-spiked eggnog and fresh baked gingersnaps. 

Severus shook his head, trying to dislodge the sudden influx of thoughts. His inner dialogue was beginning to sound a little bitter, even to himself.

“Coffee?” he asked loudly, speaking over the first syllable of whatever Minerva had been about to say, no doubt inferring something too close to accurate about his innermost thoughts from the look on her face, and stopping in front of the smiling wizard standing behind a market stall. 

“Afternoon,” the portly man tipped his head at the two, gesturing towards a charmed menu that was currently rewriting itself with the daily special. “What can I get you two?”

They ordered the special at Minerva’s insistence, and handed over a pair of sickles each before continuing on their quest. The coffee was strong and hot, tasting of dark chocolate and peppermint and Severus grimaced at the realization that she had inadvertently (advertently?) found another thing for him to like about Christmas. 

Minerva one, Severus zero. 

He shook his head again; he wasn’t trying to hate Christmas. He didn’t hate Christmas! He was just stubborn to a fault and after Min’s declaration that she would make this year the best yet, a small part of his mind was determined to rebel against it. 

Their time inside the apothecary was quick. The shopkeeper was used to Severus’ particularities and kept to herself as he sifted through bins of precariously piled ingredients and filled his basket with perfectly selected bicorn, jobberknoll feathers, and no less than thirteen jars of things he definitely hadn’t come here for. 

After he paid - and thank Merlin he had secured a position that provided room and board - Minerva led them into the paper and quill shop next door. She had a Hogwarts-sized order of parchment and spare quills to put in, so Severus went to browse the new display that had been erected in front of the store window. Red fabric was spread over the round table laden with gaudy, ribbon-trimmed quills and pots of glitter-infused calligraphy ink. He reached for one of the plastic-wrapped bundles stacked in the center, adorned with all sorts of festive symbolism and sighed as he realized what they were. 

“You should purchase some,” Minerva suggested, coming up behind him and making him jump. He hated when people snuck up behind him. It had once meant certain death and while the threat of an evil, megalomaniacal wizard behind his shoulder was no longer tangible, the sharp tendrils of fear that spiked into his chest had yet to go away. 

He forced himself to relax. 

“Christmas is all about spreading cheer, you know.” Minerva continued, thankfully ignoring the way his breath had seized, but clearly not unaware of it given the way she took a step back and appraised him carefully. “By making others happy, you make yourself happy. Perhaps you’ll benefit from it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that all my traumatic childhood Christmases can be attributed to the fact that I’ve never sent out Christmas cards?” he asked dryly. 

“Yes.” Minerva deadpanned. 

He blinked, taken aback by her frankness before he noticed the glint in her eye that indicated she was mostly joking. He looked down at the packages of cards and selected one with a more wintery scene - painted snowflakes and white-dusted evergreens over the eclectic mix of colorful baubles - with a look of feigned resignation, “I guess I’m sending Christmas cards this year.”

“Excellent.” 

They left the stationary store after that and headed for the Three Broomsticks. It was a new part of their routine that Severus had found himself looking forward to - Hogsmeade trips used to be rather anxiety-inducing, lonely and quite dull affairs without anyone to quip with, but now they promised good company and a quiet meal away from the bustle of students. Part of it was due to the genuine friendship they were forming, but another part of it was self-serving - for both of them. 

They were both aware of it, they just elected not to mention their unique combination of post-war trauma and newly created grief that kept them confined to the safety of the castle and feeling more than a little discombobulated in the small town just outside of it. 

The Three Broomsticks was nestled in the midpoint of Hogsmeade, a cozy-looking tavern made from polished wood and frosted windows, that boasted a warm bed and a strong drink to any desiring witch or wizard. The inside was just as quaint and rustic looking, but now it displayed a cascade of twinkling lights and a modestly decorated tree next to the wiped down bar. 

“Afternoon, Rosmerta!” Minerva called out to the barmaid and landlady who was topping off a stein of butterbeer with a healthy splash of firewhiskey for a waiting gentleman. They took their seats at a small table in the corner that Severus had long since dubbed their table and shrugged out of their cloaks.

“Afternoon, you two.” Madam Rosmerta greeted them as she approached them. Her strawberry blonde curls were gathered at the top of her head in a loose bun pinned in place by her wand and Severus internalized a scowl at that. He had seen a few witches - and wizards - use their wand for a quick updo, but he had yet to figure out how it was done and he absolutely refused to ask for help. She was carrying two ceramic mugs filled to the brim with a deep burgundy drink.

“Mulled wine,” she announced, setting them down and Severus noted the orange slice and cinnamon stick steeping in the red wine. “Made it last night.” 

“I really do believe the drinks are the best part of the holiday season.” Severus mumbled, picking up the warm cup and taking a long sip. 

“Come now, they can’t be the best part.” Rosmerta scolded, summoning a menu from the bar and setting it down on the table. “There’s so much more to Christmas than just good wine!”

“Nothing worthwhile.” Severus said simply, picking up the menu and skimming it. He always ordered the same thing, found comfort in stability, but he also couldn’t resist holiday menus when the time arrived. 

Minerva looked apologetic as she ushered the barmaid away after a quick scan of the menu and turned to glare at the now scowling potions professor. “Severus!”

“So, do you have a list you’re working from?” Severus asked mildly, picking up his wine and focusing intently on the red-tinted pulp of the orange floating in his drink. “Or are you simply making things up on the spot?”

“Pardon?”

“Your mission to make this year the best Christmas ever.” he specified. “Are you working from a list? Is there a schedule we’re following and can I be made privy to it, so I can plan my potion brewing around it?” He picked up the package of cards. “Or are you just forcing me to take part in things as they come up?”

Minerva eyed him carefully, picking up her own cup. “A little bit of both.”

“Do I get to hear what you do have planned?”

“Some of the classic activities I suppose - decorating the tree, going to look at the lights, maybe visiting Christmastown, baking cookies, go caroling -”

“Caroling?!”

“- maybe decorate a gingerbread house.”

Madam Rosmerta returned before Severus could say anything else, guiding bowls of butternut squash soup and a plate of cheese toasties onto the table with her wand. “There you go, dears.” she smiled, setting down a smaller plate piled with iced gingersnaps. “These are on the house - first bake of the holiday season. Should help get those spirits up.” She sent Severus a pointed look that he deftly ignored and Minerva glared at him again.

“If you’re going to glower at me every time we go out this month, I might just stop going out with you.” he bristled, picking up a toastie and dipping the corner into his soup. 

“Maybe you should stop being so bitter then.” Minerva returned.

“What, because it’s Christmas?” he asked, pausing to take a bite. “Oh, such a joyous time of year! Look how absolutely delighted I am to share a room with wine-drunk wizards,” he gestured a hand towards the bar, where a pair of cherry-faced dwellers were singing the words to A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, “and a goddamn tree!”

“Severus!” Minerva admonished again and this time, Severus hunched his shoulders at the tone. He had gone too far, he could tell from the way her face had smoothed out entirely, giving her a look of cold indifference. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, swirling his spoon through his soup. 

Minerva didn’t say anything and they ate their food in awkward silence. At one point, a pitcher floated over to their table and refilled their mugs before making its way back to the bar. When they were done, Severus eyed the gingersnaps and wondered if it would be considered poor etiquette to reach over and help himself. The mood at the table didn’t feel particularly deserving of cookies. 

Then again, he had once attended dinners at the Malfoy’s with The Dark Lord sitting at the forefront and the ambience of those days didn’t stop anyone from helping themselves to an extra piece of focaccia bread. He winced; it felt wrong to compare past - genuinely traumatic - dinner events to the silence before him. Minerva wasn’t an enemy, he was simply a bastard. 

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he finally broke the silence. “I just find myself wondering over the point when every Christmas I’ve tried to celebrate properly has ended in disaster. I’m perfectly content with not bothering over it anymore. The lights are pretty and the food is good, and I look forward to watching Rolanda drink everyone under the table later this month, but I’ve stopped putting merit in the holidays. It’s less disappointing that way.”

Minerva pushed the plate of cookies towards him, like some sort of reward for  opening up. Which, he supposed, it sort of was. She picked one up and took a bite and only then did he grab one too.

“I don’t get why you’re so determined to fix that.” he added, shrugging. 

He bit into the cookie, savouring the meld of flavors - ginger, molasses, warm vanilla. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect gingersnap and he found himself raising the cookie in a gesture of appreciation as he made eye contact with Rosmerta. 

“Elphinstone loved Christmas.” she said simply, taking another bite of her cookie and shrugging as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell of emotional manipulation by invoking the name of her dead husband over a plate of cookies on what had started as a pleasant Monday afternoon of running errands after class. 

“I-” Severus began, but then stopped. 

“We weren’t married for long, I know, but I knew him for 23 years.” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. Her eyes seemed a little faraway now. “We would always make the most of his vacation days - see the lights, visit the Christmas market, decorate the tree, roast chestnuts and drink hot cocoa. He loved carolling, had a good voice for it.” 

Severus looked down at his cookie, scraping at the white icing with his thumbnail and effectively crumbling away the hand piped snowflake. 

“I’m not making you celebrate Christmas with me because I’m lonely.” she clarified, eyeing him sternly. “If you don’t want to do anything else on this list, I won’t make you. I just don’t want you going through life thinking it’s all bad and that good things can’t happen to you.”

“I don’t -” 

“Yes, you do.” Minerva scolded. “Don’t think I don’t see you wallowing every time you catch sight of yet another reminder that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. You don’t have to be the cheeriest person to ever walk the earth, for Merlin’s sake, Severus, but you’re letting bitterness take a hold of you and I won’t stand for it.” 

Severus tried to scowl back, but Minerva could see right through him. 

“Do you know why I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” she asked and Severus grimaced. They weren’t supposed to talk about it; this was one of those stones better left unturned things. 

“Don’t say it please.” he whispered, feeling dread curling in his stomach. He hated to think himself as weak and his inability to enter Hogsmeade alone - any bustling wizard town, at that - was only utter proof that he was. 

“Your paranoia is valid.” Minerva said quietly, saying as little as possible and yet too much at the same time. “Don’t be ashamed of having trauma, but don’t let it turn you into a bitter, shriveled up, old bastard either.”

“Are we still talking about Christmas?” he asked ruefully. 

“You know we aren’t.”

Their empty plates and half-filled mugs suddenly got up and floated away only to return as a pair of traveling paper cups topped with more wine and a splash of something stronger. They nodded their thanks at Rosmerta and shrugged back into their cloaks. They kept a tab at the Three Broomsticks, so paying wasn’t a concern as they exited the building and headed towards the castle in silent agreement to skip the carriage ride. 

“So, roasted chestnuts?” Severus brought up, as they crunched over the dirty ice that coated the path back home. “Like, in the song? That’s a thing?” 

Minerva nodded. 

“Can we do that, then?” he asked casually, trying to make amends. “I noticed the apothecary had a basket full of them. Perhaps we could return and pick some up.”

“Already taken care of.” Minerva replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small burlap sack bursting with its lumpy contents. “You were too busy holding jars of lacewing flies to the light you never even noticed.”

“Roasted chestnuts then.” Severus nodded, ignoring the jab towards his particularness. “And uh, thank you for accompanying me to Hogsmeade,” he added, trying to sound indifferent to it, like it wasn’t such a difficult thing to admit aloud. “I know it's hard for you too.” 

The witch smiled softly, as if being reminded of her - what, only three months now? - deceased husband and her old life living in the small town was a pleasant memory. And perhaps for her, it was. Perhaps he was letting grief turn him bitter. What did the deaths of his only friends and both his parents have to do with Christmas? Years had passed since both and yet the newly-created widow walking besides him was coping far better than he could ever hope to. 

“I think we should talk about Christmas present shopping.” 

“I was just going to -”

“And don’t say you were going to owl-order them.” Minerva interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “There’s nothing personal about circling a few things in a catalogue.”

“What do you propose then?”

“We’ll go gift shopping together. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Minerva confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s too early in the month for most people, so Diagon Alley won’t be crowded at all, let alone on a Tuesday. Shouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, yes?”

Severus offered a smile at the unexpected accommodation and nodded. He cradled his paper cup of mulled wine close to his chest, feeling a warmth that came from more than just the hot drink. 

--

a/n: oops maybe got carried away with this one? it would mean the world to me if you told me what you think of this bc im v proud of it. 

[gatortavern]

The Jang and the Snowball Spectacle

Yo @godhatesverizon, I was your @pnatsecretsanta this year! You said you liked some good ol’ fashioned Jang and some snow, and who doesn’t love some seasonally appropriate shenanigans from the Mayview bullies? Apologies that this is so late, but I hope you enjoy the lunacy these goofballs get up to!

For all its quirks and oddities, one would expect the weather itself to be one of the last things to distinguish a town such as Mayview from its neighboring areas. This would, of course, be incorrect for freak hurricane-related reasons, but also for the small fact that in its geographical niche, the temperature can jump from pleasantly middling weather to negative five degrees in the span of half a night. So it was that when the people of Mayview awoke from their slumber that they were greeted with so much snow it buried their feet, when mere days before it was only cool enough to warrant a jacket.

The whoops and hollers of children and children-at-heart alike echoed in RJ’s ears as they set off for Johnny’s place, bundled in their warmest snowflake-patterned hoodie and steel blue gloves. The rest of their friends greeted them with a wave as they approached his house, and the group pulled into a huddle to discuss the day’s proceedings. “So what’s the plan for dealin’ with the mutant nerds today?” Stephen asked as the group turned their eyes to their crimson haired leader.

Johnny took a deep breath.

“Nothin’.” “WHAT?!” Ollie and Stephen cried in unison.

“We’ve been goin’ over this for too long and we’re clearly gettin’ a little burned out. I had ta force ya to sleep yesterday, Stephen, and the rest of us weren’t much better. So this is gonna be our day off. No thinkin’ about weirdo flyin’ people, or shootin’ lightning, or purple gunk. It’s just gonna be us an’ the snow. Tomorra’ we’ll look over everythin’ with fresh faces an’ we’ll get all the info we need outta the nerds. Today…” He threw his arms out, inviting the rest to take in the white wonderment surrounding them.

“Today we make the biggest ball of death this town has ever seen!” If the fire in the group’s eyes could leave their ocular prisons, there would be no snow left.

“YEAH!” Stephen whooped. “We setting it loose on Wicker Road again?” “Can we please not push the whole thing uphill like last year?” Ollie said through his smile, knowing his plea would be futile.

Purple gunk? came the message from RJ’s phone. Their leader’s eyes flicked to it for a second, before sliding to the side, as if unsure. Within an instant the phone was put away and the message forgotten, his wide grin returning and the flare in his eyes reigniting.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be the biggest and best ball we’ve done yet! NOW LET’S GET TO IT!” “YEAH!!” the others shouted, and the four took off to mold doom from the innocent fluff.

---

After ten minutes, the Jang regrouped to see the fruits of their labor and to pick a starting ball. Stephen’s ball, barely bigger than the palm of his hand, was the smallest of the lot. He attributed this to thinking he had found Mothman prints, but closer inspection had just revealed them to be raccoon tracks. Johnny tried to move his ball a little more and groaned when it fell apart in his hands. Ollie’s was bigger than the rest, but rebelled against its circular bretheren by taking the shape of a football. RJ’s ball was the roundest of the four, if a little on the smaller side. The group set RJ’s ball off to the side, and held somber eulogies for the other failed balls.

The subsequent pummeling back into the powder they were born from was markedly less somber.

The beginnings of the Deadly Doom Ball of Ultimate Destruction (named by Stephen) were humble, as the small orb graciously munched the snow laying neatly behind Johnny’s house. Its appetite grew with its size; by the time it devoured the last white flakes daring to exist in Johnny’s backyard, it reached RJ’s torso. The desecration of snow spread as the ball, now guided by two pairs of hands, absorbed the fallen flakes lying beside the sidewalk, making its way up the street.

“So,” Ollie said, turning to stare at Johnny, who was eyeing the path ahead for obstacles, “we taking it to the Usual Spot, or somewhere new?” “Can we not do the steepest hill again? That was so disappointing,” Stephen said, remembering how the previous year’s ball went only a few feet before cracking in half.

“Yeah, pushing that thing up there was a nightmare,” Ollie added, reminiscing on the four of them desperately digging into the snow with their backs to the ball, taking victory in inches.

“Nah, we’re gonna go partways up t’ the school and run it down the road!” Johnny cried out.

“Ngh..I really hope it doesn’t break this time,” Stephen huffed.

The four continued up the street, the ball greedily adding to its mass as they huffed and chatted about things such as potential fort designs and seeing how many snowballs they could throw into Jeff’s hair.

---

As the Corner Store came into view, a sniffle caught Johnny’s attention, and he turned to examine his pals. With his red nose and cheeks, Ollie looked like he had just walked out of a Christmas card, his face as puffy as his jacket. Stephen wasn’t much better, trying to hide his shuddering beneath his grape scarf and Jersey Devil jersey, and RJ kept rubbing their face with their sleeve. The small sneeze from RJ cinched it. “A’right, detour time. We get this ball to the store and then we get ourselves some goodies. Stephen, you still got that ten dollar bill in your pocket?” “Yep.” “Cool. You three go in and get yerselves some’n warm, an’ I’ll guard the ball.” The bully bunch made it to the edge of the store’s door in due time. Stephen, Ollie, and RJ dashed into the store, eager for something warm to slide down their gullets.

“Ho ho, little elves!” cried the wiry shopkeeper as he slid onto the countertop, decked in green and jingling bells. “What can I do you for, on your fine detour from Santa’s Shop?”

“Got anything warm?” Ollie asked as he tried and marginally succeeded at preventing Stephen from ransacking the isles.

The spark in the man’s eyes immediately threw this decision into question. As the green elf declared that he had just the thing and dashed up the stairs, the boy wondered what he just got them all into.

He barely had time to ponder calling for Johnny when the man returned, arms full of small packets, the lid of a small pan, and a coffee pot filled with piping hot...water? Before Ollie could say anything, the man had already ripped the small packets into pieces with his teeth, scattering the dust-colored powder into the pot. He then leapt onto the counter with a flourish, slammed the pan lid onto the pot with a clank!, and began to twirl. The pot quickly frothed with a chocolate swirl as he spun and spun, giggling manically all the while.

Ollie couldn’t figure out when the snowman-adored styrofoam cups had manifested onto the counter, or when exactly the other two had joined him, and at this point he was almost afraid to question it.

The three stared in a mix of bewilderment and awe as the shopkeeper slid backwards, filling each cup to the brim with small dips and pivots. He then threw himself backwards, his face underneath Ollie’s chin. “That’s three for five dollars, or four for seven,” he said without skipping a beat.

“Four, please,” Ollie said, at a loss for anything else to say.

Money changed hands, another batch was poured for Johnny, conversations about agents of Krampus were held, and the three turned to head out the door with the warmth in their gut once again matching the fire in their hearts. Their eyes caught glimpse of the new kid, his jaw set tight and his face as red as theirs were upon entering, although perhaps for different reasons.

Their gazes met. Seconds went by as the group and the nerd stared each other down, Max’s bewilderment fading back into his usual snarky look as he entertained their glares.

Wordlessly, the three turned and headed out the door, finding their fourth member with his back to them, staring at their not-so-little orb of doom.

“Yo bro, you’re not gonna believe what just happened in there!” Stephen called out to Johnny. The bully swirled around, and for a second the three glimpsed his mouth hanging askew, eyes wide with pinpoint pupils, face a touch paler than when they went in. Then his gaze darted from their faces to the cups in their hands, and he relaxed, his hand reaching for his share. With flailing arms and just a tad exaggeration, Stephen shared the details of the shopkeeper as the rest sipped their cocoa.

“And as we left, we fell upon the mutant new kid! I think that store guy did some kinda psychic damage to him ‘cuz he looked totally freaked out.” As if on cue, Max groan from inside the store fell upon their ears.

“We let him off though, ‘cuz of the pact.” “Mmm.” “Then he talked to Stephen for like ten minutes about Krampus and Santa’s secret ninja squad. Had to practically pry him out of the store,” Ollie added.

RJ pulled out their phone and showed them the image they got of the clerk, caught in a perfect backslide, the delicious liquid forever frozen halfway into its destination. The group oohed and aahed at their friend’s impeccable ability to take super clear shots with a little flip phone camera.

With a few more gulps of their cocoa and a desire to finish the rest on the way up, the bullies repositioned themselves and resumed their slow ascent to the top of the hill. RJ spared a glance at Johnny, who was staring daggers at the ball.

Johnny, in the meantime, put all of his focus on the conversations of his friends and on making sure the ball didn’t go off course.

He was not gonna mention the weird hissing that started when they got near that store.

He wasn’t gonna mention the purple thing that had taken an interest in the ball.

He wasn’t gonna think about how the purple thing had a human face and a child’s voice.

He definitely wasn’t gonna think about how all of that just disappeared right as the purple thing looked at him, as if it was never there, right in front of him.

He had made a pact with his buds and he was gonna keep it.

No weird mutant stuff today.

---

Pushing an ever-growing snowball up one of Mayview’s hills with only one hand quickly proved more difficult than expected. Ollie found it easier to lean into the mound with his shoulders providing leverage. RJ and Stephen followed suit, guzzling down the last of their now nearly lukewarm beverage and jamming the empty cups into their jacket pockets. Johnny, having chugged down his cocoa at the urging of his friends, merely rammed his entire frame into the ball. The slow rate of movement up the hill was matched by its growth, though by this point it had begun to dwarf its creators. By the time Johnny mentioned that he could see the school, it had overgrown Ollie by half a foot. Muscles strained and groans and grunts abounded as their fight against gravity reached its zenith. With one last shout from the children, the damned, doomed sphere nestled itself peacefully on the level footing of the school pavement.

The Jang locked eyes on each other, whooped, raised their fists triumphantly in the air, and promptly leaned on each other for support. As breath was sucked down their lungs and muscles left to rest for the first time in hours, the bullies gazed at their creation.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” Stephen said.

“She’s bigger than last years for sure,” Johnny beamed.

“...I don’t think what we just did is reasonably possible.” Ollie said, “and I don’t care.” “YEAH, physics is for WIMPS and NERDS and she doesn’t even have any lunch money!” “Physics is why pushing this thing back down is satisfying at all, Stephen.” “OI!” Johnny called out. “Getchur butts round Deathknell Mk. II! RJ wants a pic!” “Aww, that wasn’t what I called it earlier!” Stephen called out as he ran into position. So it was that a snapshot became immortalized (using Ollie’s phone, as it had a wider screen and a timer) of the four youths, burning cheeks accentuating beaming grins around their carefully cultivated sphere of chaos, Ollie’s one hand slung as high up on the ball as it could go. This was soon followed by pictures of each of them perched atop the ball mid-manic cackle, of Stephen splayed across the top frozen in triumphant shouting, of the group split into stacked pairs on both sides miming a struggle, and many more.

At last, after each photo was evaluated and deemed acceptable, the moment arrived. With more grunts and heaves, Deathknell Mk. II took position in the center of the road, adopting bits of gravel as it went.

“THREE!” came the cry as the ball inched forward.

“TWO!” came the shouts as the slope drew nearer.

“ONE!” came the call as the ball perched on the last few bits of level ground its front end had.

“GOOOOO!!!” With one last running shove and a cry, the obliteration orb teetered..

and tilted…

and slowly slid forward.

As momentum took hold, all caution was thrown to the wind as the deadly orb rocketed down the slope. Trees and buildings flew by as it claimed the hill as its own, tiny smushed white packets on the pavement the only sign it was there. The boys and RJ, with cold-kissed hands desperately clutching onto hoods and hats in the wake of the creation’s tailwind, could scarcely hope to keep up with its joyride as it spun down the hill with the pitter-patter of an army of spiders. It whizzed past the Corner Store in seconds, blew the soft covering of snow off the nearby oak and elm branches, turned slightly to the side as it neared the lower residential areas and chose what would be the bearer of its wrath.

A godawful scrunching brought the ball to a stop, and as the Jang neared it, their jaws fell open and their whoops died in their throat as they drank in the scene.

There at the curbside sat a jet-black SUV, toppled onto its side, buried on all fronts by piles of stone-colored, gravel-filled, leaf accented snow. Its side could hardly be called that now, crumpled and twisted into a metallic sinkhole and probably what Ms. Baxter would call “concave”; one would think an elephant had T-boned it. The lamppost behind it lurched forward with a broken spine, its light shining over the body in fits and spurts over the fresh body, as close to wincing as it could get. A wheel, badly misshapen and hissing something awful, fell into the mound with a plunk.

“I-is that…” Ollie started. “Principal Pleezdo’s car!” Stephen cried in shock, his mittens at the sides of his head.

The house beside them began to wail, a spine-tingling siren that wouldn’t be half-bad as an air raid warning.

“RUN!!!” Johnny screamed, and the bullies hurriedly scrambled as fast as their legs would carry them away from the crime scene, through slush and streets and powdered panic, eager to relive their revelry in the safety of Stephen’s living room.

[valasania-the-pale]

Contemplation

Prompt: What is Ruby hiding from us?

‘Did you ever think about how much Argus looks like Vale at night, Pyrrha?’ Ruby thought wistfully. With the moonlight gleaming off of rooftops, the gentle dusting of snow settling all over the concrete jungle like a blanket of glistening gems shone all the brighter, distracting her from the memory of a city in flames, and the sound of fear on the wind.

She’d managed to climb high up onto one of the apartments on top of the hill. Maybe it was an abuse of her semblance, maybe she shouldn’t be out here alone, and maybe she should be resting in preparation for the next day…

Dust, the discussion of what to do next would be fierce and would only grow more heated with the full night’s sleep to think on it. Ruby huddled further into her cloak, wrapping the thick red fabric tight around her chest against the chill.

‘Snowflakes falling all around me, I dance upon the grass… It crunches underneath my feet and I cannot help but laugh…’

“What am I doing?” Ruby asked aloud, something ugly rearing its head in her chest.

Her arms wrapped tight, she sucked in a draft of freezing air, everything was swirling like winter’s flurries and she was so scared!

Out…

Ruby sagged, her energy leaving with her breath.

Another day gone by, another day for her fears to continue hounding her. Another burden placed upon their group, another roadblock in their path… Get to Mistral had been such a simple thing… Then, defend the school… they’d done it before… But Raven joined and made things so much more complicated and painful… now the Relic was theirs to protect and they were flying by the edge of their seat and their moron of a headmaster had stuck his head in the sand when he was the only one she could look to to know what he was doing and her drunk of an uncle and… and…!

Out…

‘That was mean…” Ruby muttered, mental fingers prying the rough knot of guilt away from the morass of tangled threads and wires… ‘He didn’t deserve that…’

Oh, she had so much she wanted to say to their wayward headmaster… that he was a moron… that he was too closed off… that he was a liar…

That she was sorry.

It was so hard for her to untangle the mess her feelings toward Ozpin had become over the last few days. His actions and hers – both of their choices – made the relationship they shared so infinitely, impossibly more complex…

But if there was one thing Ruby had gotten quite good at, it was being skilled in reading people. Particularly, being able to pick out people in need. Ozpin was someone desperately, frightfully in need of someone he could trust implicitly. Ruby didn’t think she fit the bill. Not anymore.

Pine-flecked-gold, wide with naked fear, memory, hurt. Oscar’s normally tan complexion paled to a mottled grey, snowflakes in his hair, in his eyebrows, collecting on his cheeks only to be washed away by the heat of the tears streaming down…

“I regret it,” Ruby said, not to anyone in particular. “That. I’m angry at him, but he didn’t deserve that. Nobody would.”

His voice strangled. But with what emotions? They were a knotted mass, a nightmare. “I’m… Sorry…” Did he realize what he’d done? Did he understand why she’d done it? Probably not, she barely understood the tempered fury-terror-defiance-impatience-frustration that had gripped her in that moment.

“Jinn… what is Ozpin hiding from us?”

The wind blew harder, cutting through her cloak like it was tissue paper. Shivering, she activated her aura, her soul warming her more than any mundane material ever could.

She couldn’t compare their grief. She knew loss. She knew pain.

Unidentifiable emotion, gripping her… she didn’t understand! Where was mom! Why was everyone sad? The pit within her… it was ugly, dark and oozing… like Grimm… but she couldn’t fight it… Dad was crying, Uncle Qrow just stared at the wall and Yang… she just held Ruby close and shook and trembled… Why?

Ruby shivered.

Excitement! Zwei was so cute! She fell asleep that night vibrating with energy, how could she possibly fall asleep when they had an adorable little puppy to take care of now?!

In the next room, voices. Uncle Qrow and Dad. “He’ll help you with your depression, Tai. It’s not right seeing you like this – it’s not what Summer would want. I hope you don’t think I’m being invasive about it but…” – “No, Qrow… I… you’re right. Thank you… really, thank you for caring…”

Dad…?

“Stop,” Ruby covered her ears. Stop. Stop. Stop remembering. She came up here to avoid the nightmares!

The Breach. The Grimm. She fought. Crescent Rose sang. Nearby, Myrtenaster. Ember Celica detonating with each punch. Gambol Shroud dicing Beowolves with ease. And all around them, destruction. They’d failed to stop. They’d tried! But in the periphery, a few lone civilians lay unmoving… they would be alright, right?

Stop! STOP!

Penny. She rushed to stop the match! She… she…! Oh dust, no… Yang… her arm… Blake, stop crying, please… Racing… the arrow… PYRRHA!!

Was this her punishment? Tormenting herself, day in, day out, ever since she’d opened her fat mouth and butted in too far? It wasn’t his fault, damn you – everyone was looking to him – to her! – and he’d lied and she didn’t know what else to do but to ask and set everything straight and she didn’t know what she was doing—

A strong gust nearly bowled her over, and Ruby’s spiral into despair was disrupted by the cold, damp slap of a leaf against her cheek.

One hand touching her throat – her pulse raced, her heart alive and hammering against her chest – while the other scraped the offender away… an autumn leaf. That perfect hue of gold and scarlet, brown and yellow. A few slight holes torn in it, or perhaps chewed through by insects before falling?

Ruby stared blankly at the leaf for a long time. Just… stared. Her pulse calmed. Her breathing evened out. Eventually, her hand fell slack into her lap and the leaf drifted away, carried off by another gust. Ruby rubbed her cheeks, trying to infuse them with some warmth.

She knew loss… she knew pain… And after coming to know her friends as well as she had over the last two years, she’d learned it wasn’t a game of comparisons. But she couldn’t relate to the pain she’d seen reflected back at her in those eyes. Pine-flecked-gold, brimming with glossy tears, lips parted in an unuttered howl of agony.

She was angry, but it had long since diminished into doubt. She was guilty, and while it still gripped her heart like a vice, its root was in confusion, self-loathing, and fear. She was afraid… So afraid, because she’d seen reflected in those eyes someone she could all too easily see herself becoming.

Someone who couldn’t trust his friends because time and experience destroyed his sense of security. Someone who could blatantly lie without blinking while leading friends against deadly enemies. Someone who was tired. Afraid. Guilty. And who felt so utterly alone…

“I’m fine, Weiss, don’t worry about me,” Ruby said, lying through her teeth. It had only been a brief glance – just checking one last time that her partner was breathing. That she wasn’t bleeding out. That there wasn’t a gaping hole in her side, like Ruby could see burned into her memory.

“If you’re sure…?”

“I’m sure, don’t worry. Get some rest, alright?”

Dust, how long had she been lying to her friends? Why couldn’t she open up to them like she used to? What had the world come to that Ruby Rose, paragon of purity and naivete, couldn’t open up to her own sister?

“I feel responsible for them, Ozpin,” she whispered painfully. “They’re here because of me. What happens to them…” Jaune fighting Cinder, knocked down – her world went black as panic and fear and the need to protect filling her – waking up… Weiss… oh dustohnononononotagain!! “I’m so sorry.” she shuddered. “I thought…”

That she could trust him not to lie to her – he’d never lied to her before. That if they were willing to lay their lives down for him, he’d respect that faith and return it in kind. That things could be simple again, like they were before it all became so wrong, and anything but simple.

“I was naïve,” Ruby whispered. “And wrong. To expect you to tell us everything… And to think that your reasons weren’t good enough…”

She understood. She understood all too well.

She was tired.

Ruby leaned back on the bench, and despite her aura keeping out the wind, she felt cold. Above her, the broken moon gleamed, the sky’s mirror reflecting down on her. ‘Pyrrha…Penny�� Mom… would you be proud, or disappointed in me?’

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Parties

Summary: Maybe we should decorate for Christmas earlier, especially since we have guest coming over on the 25th.

One-shot

Chan X Female! Reader

This was requested by @leeknowfeels btw

Prompt: 22. “Two years ago today I met the (girl/guy) of my dreams and I was wondering if it could stop being a dream, and we could be a reality… Will you be mine? Forever?”

Winter the most wonderful time of the year, is not an opinion for me at least. I meet Chan, on December 25th, one of my favorite days of the year since. It’s not as good as January 27th though; that day Chan would ask me to be his lover. The way he asked was, “(Y/n) I’ve known you for less than two months, but I don’t need a long time, to know I want to be with you. Would you want to be mine?” We were just sitting at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to take us to the university. I said, “Did you even have to ask? You already had me.” After that you wouldn’t catch us without at least being arm in arm.

That was two years ago, and it’s winter again. Thankfully, I can’t stand the scintillating sun raining down on me with its rays of light; when I already had Chan. He can make a winter night, feel as hot as a summer with just a smile. He’s the light of my life, he knows that already, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t tell him. Or how I’m proud of him, for how far he has come, or that his voice is music to my ears whether it is singing or rapping, or just talking to me. That his dancing is god send, he’d mid as well tell me he was Apollo, I’d believe that, full-heartedly.

He inspires me to write endless poetry, I’ve been a poet and finished up school the summer before we met. I’ve written a few poem books, nothing has sold like Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur but Chan always tells me, that if not today someone notices my writing, then tomorrow. He gives me great hopes and he’ll sometimes come in when I’m in my mode, and grabs one I just finished. No matter how much I beg him not to read it, he does. He calls me cheesy as sin, for some reason he likes to read in a Shakespearean voice, which makes me crack up, no matter how many times he tells me I’m a sap.

Whenever inspiration strikes me anymore, it’s usually while I’m sitting and looking at a picture of us. Like the one where we were sitting in sunflowers and pointing at different clouds, and Jeongin, the little rat found out and took three pictures of us before he was chased off. I’d say it’s my favorite poem,

“Sunflowers,

Though it was hours,

Nothing seems long when I’m with you,

Laying there looking at the blue,

White and sometimes gray clouds,

Never cease to shroud,

Not in mystery,

Nor in blistery,

But us from the world,

Until we are furled,

In each other's arms,

Until someone finds us,

Leaving us absolutely superfluous,

In sunflowers,

Summertime lasted no more than hours,

But yet for years,

As I look back on it in happy tears”   

Yes, he makes me an absolute sap, but only for him. But he can’t say much either as he sings me to sleep with love songs, coming out of his mouth one after another. I don’t know how I ended up with such a soft, sweet, caring human being. “All I think of is you” I say when I open the door and he’s sitting there putting garland on the mantle, “Huh?” He questions me, “I literally walked passed a groot stuffed animal and heard you in my head go, ‘I am GROOT’ maybe that should be your next album” He laughs at me, “Maybe~” We stick up the tree together, decorating and throwing garland at each other to get it to the other side, whining about how much dust there is on the garlands, is a yearly ordeal.

Once we’re almost done with the tree and only a topper being our only problem. “I think we may have to call Jeongin for this one” I say scratching the back of my head as I realize we underestimated the size, and how tall we are. He hands me the topper, “I’m shorter than you sweetie, and I’m not scaling that thing either-” When all of a sudden I feel arms wrap around my waist, “Here we go!” I squeal as he says it, and I realize he is lifting me up to put the topper up. He gets me to the top, and I place the snowflake on the very top branch. “You got it?” He asks, “Yeah” I feel him stumble and I know immediately what was coming, I just had to place that emptied box directly in front of the tree…

The next thing I know is we are on the ground more or less, him in the box and me directly on top of him. He groans, and I laugh, “Oops” He shakes his head as he pushes me off of him and gets out of the box, I’m stuck in the box when I get a silly idea and before he can offer me a hand, I flip over and make sure it is over my legs, “Babe look! I’m a snail-” “We been knew” I glare up at him, “You know I may be slow but you can at least laugh at my jokes! These are the jokes kid!” “You’re really going to quote Monsters Inc. In this house?” I nod, and he rolls his eyes, “You’re cute, baby girl,... I love you and your jokes.” “Well, that makes two of us, I love you too-” “What about my jokes?!” “Whatever makes you sleep at night~” He rolls his eyes at me, “I love them, sweetie” I throw the box off of me, getting up.

I see some mistletoe on the ground, and I snatch it up, I raise my hand over our heads, “Hey look up~” He does, and he grins at me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me softly, I kiss back, when we, finally, let go I grin at him, “I love you~” “I love you more” “Nu-uh” “Ya-huh” We go back and forth until we, finally, finish cleaning up the boxes and collapsing on the couch, “Let’s agree to disagree” He asks, “I can go for that,... You know we should probably decorate December 1st not December 23rd…” I say as we lay on top of each other, “We’ll do it on time next year, baby” I shake my head, “Fine, sunflower”

We watch The Grinch until we fall asleep, waking up uncomfortable, and complaining. “4 more days til Christmas” I mutter to him, “Yeah, I can’t believe it” I look at the clock, “You’re gonna be late!! Go shoo shoo, get dressed!!” I say flinging myself off of him, and pushing him into the bedroom. He gets dressed in record time, and I wait for him by the door, “I love you” “Don’t you ever get tired of saying that?” “No, how could I ever tire telling the truth? Are you tired of saying it” I pout, “No, never, I love you, I love you, I loVE YOU!!” He screeches at the end, “I’m glad, I’ll see you later babe!” I peck his lips, and he races out the door.

I clean up and go out seeing the time, I still work at a bistro since my poet gig, although it may be my dream it hasn’t made it big yet. I’ll have to wait, no matter how many times Chan tells me I don’t have to work, that my poet’s income and his artist income is enough. But the job gives me something to do. And with the holidays coming up it gives me freedom of buying gifts and him not knowing how much they we’re. He hates me spending money on him, although I can’t say I’m much better at that. I hate it as well, we are much more for family and friends over for the holidays and love, not gifts. But doesn’t mean we don’t go over the top for each other.

Speaking of which our little apartment is going to be full, the rest of SKZ is coming over, thank god we aren’t having any family over or there would be a horrible line, to the restroom, worse than it would be just with the ten of us. I’m so excited for that day, which is why I ended up just spilling coffee, good thing it was iced coffee,... all over my hand. I clean it up and quickly make a new iced coffee for the customer patiently waiting for me to come over. Why people order coffee this late, or coffee at all is beyond me.

After all my shift is at 12, they order a salad, what an odd combo as well, I bring their coffee over. Shortly their salad comes out, for a Saturday we sure are slow, then again everyone is at work today. So that leaves me with only three tables to serve, which means the day isn’t as hectic but doesn’t mean it goes fast either.

When the day, finally, ends I just drag myself up to our bedroom and go to sleep, it must be 10 O'clock at night before I feel something snuggle into me, “You’re home early” I say looking over at him, “And you’re already in bed” “Says you” he laughs, and we just cuddle exchanging small talk falling asleep.

Today's’ the 25th, the bistro is closed, and I wake up to Chan’s sleeping figure. I brush the green hair out of his eyes and place a soft kiss on forehead. I put my phone on record and start speaking my thoughts, so I can write down the poem later.

“Waking up is different when it's next to you,

Christmas is no longer blue,

You haven’t gotten a clue,

How much I love you,

I’m a sap but you are too-”

Before I can add another line, “I love you more~” I laugh, “You wake up so weird” He chuckles, “Least I don’t snore-” “Chan, I love you, but sweetie… YOU SNORE LOUD! I’m surprised the neighbors don’t come over and complain…” I trail off, “You’re so mean” He pouts, my eyes roll to the back of my head, “Whatever major loser-” “Remember your dating this loser-” “Right my MAJOR loser” He shakes his head, “I’m going to date Woojin, he won’t call me a major loser-” “You used me for land development?!?” I laugh he shakes his head at me, “Come on we have to get ready, and I don’t mean get out of our pajamas, I mean make the boys hot cocoa!” And with that he is up in an instance, “Sometimes I feel like you care more for them, than me” I mutter, “I wonder why” I shake my head at him, throwing my pillow at him, and it hits the door before it hits him.

I turn off my recorder, and follow him downstairs and start making hot cocoa, just as we finish the ten cups, marshmallows all over them, filled over the brim. A rampage of knocks come, and Chan lets in the eight trouble makers. “(Y/n)!!! We haven’t seen you in forever” A screech called Jisung and then 8 people wrapped around me hugging, “I missed you guess too!” Chan scoffs, “It’s only been four days” “Ooh~ Someone’s jealous~” Changbin let’s out, “Am not” Chan pouts, “Come on join the hug, sweetie” I say, Chan grumpily joins, “Someone’s jealous because I get a better welcome~” I say and muss up Chan’s hair, “ANYWAYS WHO WANTS TO WATCH FROSTY THE SNOWMAN!” Chan announces, and they all break free from the hug, grabbing hot cocoa and rushing over with careful steps to the couch.

Chan wraps his arm around me, “We’re stuck on the floor aren’t we-” “Yeah but what you gonna do?” We laugh, grabbing our respective mugs and sit in front of the couch, and we all horribly sing along to the songs.

Three hours later, “You guys wanna open presents now?” Seungmin whines, we agree grabbing our own presents, all of the boys had brought theirs over from the dorm. The boys screeching along with me, as we open our presents. “IT’S JUST WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED” “A CHRISTMAS DELIGHT” Surprisingly, we haven’t had a neighbor come over to ask if we were okay or the police called on us; always a good sign, but I’m not jinxing it, I knock on some wood to make sure of that one.

When Chan, finally, piped up after we all just open presents for I don’t know how long, “I have an important present” We all raise our brows, although I see a few little smirks, I don’t question it as Chan moves from the floor to his knee, the poor lad must be getting up to get it. So I get up ready to help him up, before I can hold out my hand to him, he pulls out a little box… No way… “Two years ago today I met the girl of my dreams and I was wondering if it could stop being a dream, and we could be a reality… Will you be mine? Forever?” My jaw drops, no way,... “Man you beat me to the punch,” I say because that’s the first thing that came to my mind; instead, of ‘I love you’ or ‘Yes’ so I immediately add to my response, “I would love to be yours forever, Chan~” He slips the ring onto my finger and I have to stop me from crying as cheers erupt from the couch. Chan’s’ fingers lock with mine, and I can’t stop looking into his beautiful eyes, “Hey you too look up!” Comes from Hyunjin and we do and it’s Changbin holding mistletoe over us, “Let’s give the people what they want?” Chan says to me giggling, I can’t hold back my little giggles as he kisses me.

[joylessholland]

Rivals (Part 2) Harry Potter!au

TOMXREADER!wizards

(1,703 words)  Warnings: Swearing, spells

A/N: This part has taken me so long to make again it will because I really wanna do Harry Potter justice. All of the spells in the imagine come from an official website So if I used some wrong please tell me. Thanks for the moodboard @kingquackdaddy   BTW I’m so close to 200 kittens (i’ve tried posting this like 3 times it won't show up on the page HELP)

Masterlist  Requests  Part One

The sound of someone rummaging through a bag of candy startled you awake, opening your eyes the brightness of the world shocked your senses “Hey, you're awake.” Mary giggled wrist deep in a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans “What…happened” you ask sitting up hissing in pain as a horrible pain shoots through your arm “You fell off your broom” Mary says putting a pillow under your back “No, I was knocked off, I’ve pulled that move off one thousand times, it was him…wasn’t it?” you growl grabbing a jelly bean “I told you he was competitive.” She said shyly as Madam Pomfrey waddles over “How are you feeling, dear?” looking over your arm she mutters a little spell under her breath making the pain go away. “Better now.” You smile as she grabs you robes from the drawer “No rigorous activity till that heals, that means no…” “Don’t say it” you interrupt sighing sadly “No quidditch” she coos walking away

The rest of the day went by slowly that was until study hour, a loud flap echoes through the great hall as a hawk lands on Toms book with a loud screech. “Hey, their birdy” he chuckles as his friend point to you “She’s trained to catch snakes.” You snap poking Tom in the shoulder “Wrong house love” his voice arrogant “look I’m sorry you can’t keep your hands on your broom, but that’s not my fault.” He smirks “Why you little…” you stop yourself “You might think that your little stunt put me out for the season, it didn’t.” you growl storming off

“you sure you’re alright, sweetheart,” your mother asks over the mirror “yes, mother. You don’t have to come, it’s just a broken arm. Madam Pomfrey is healing it daily for me.” “So, what are you gonna do about that boy?” her voice changed from mother to teenage girl in a matter of seconds “What can I do? I can’t prove he did anything” “You could turn him into a rat and let Aya play with him.” You mother laughs “MOM!” you shout in disbelief “Kidding, kidding maybe, no kidding. You’ll get through this don’t worry. I have to go someone’s here. Be good, love you” “Love you,” you say before closing the mirror and placing into your pocket.

A gust of cold wind swept over the roof as you stared at the moon petting Aya. She hisses in your arms as the door you the roof opens and Tom walks out tip of his wand shining bright “Nox” he whispers and the light fizzles out “What do you want?” you ask not giving him a second glance “I wanted to apologize, I’m not usually an ass, I was just doing that so…” he looks at the ground “What” turning you look at him “Why when is come to me are you a huge div” “because my friends were there” “That gives you the right” you snap stomping over to him “to be a horrible person, what if I was killed? What if I would have gone flying into the crown? What if…” “But you didn’t” he cuts you off “That’s not the point, you div” you snarl “calm down, love.” He smiles. Why was his smile so cute you hated that it made you want to forgive him “I understand where your coming from and I’m sorry” squinting your eyes “and” sighing he laughs “and I was a huge div, who got too competitive and shouldn’t have said those things about you” he smiled again and you finally gave in “Fine walk me back to my dorm. Aya!” swooping down the hawk changes into a small monkey that sits on your shoulder pulling out his wand he flicks it in the air “Lumos” a small bead of light appears on the tip of his hand. Holding out his arm he asks “Shall we” jumping down from your shoulder Aya lands on his arm and scratches her head ‘We shall” you say walking to the door.

Snowflakes floated in the air as the cold air of winter nipped at your exposed skin. “See you after the holiday,” Mary said passing you in the courtyard “Happy Christmas” you shout after her walking back into the castle. Reaching your hand deep into your handbag you pull out a small jar of grey powder. Footsteps on the stone floor snaps your attention to Tom walking over to you. “Aren’t you going home for Christmas?” you ask as he stands next to you “No” Tom says sadly “what about your parents? ”They don’t actually know I’m here” he sighed looking at his shoes “What? Aren’t they worried sick?” you say putting a hand on his shoulder “Maybe, or they’re just happy their freak of a son is out of their hair” Joining him looking at the floor feeling a little bad for him. Just a few months ago you wanted to push him off the roof, but now after getting you know him a little better you realize he’s isn’t that bad. “You know? I could use some help at the shop.” Sheepishly you hold up the jar of grey powder “Floo Powder?” Tom asks as you shove him into the fireplace in front of you “Just say… Ollivander’s” swallowing hard you pour a bit of powder into his hand “Are you sure?” nodding he stands as straight as he can in the small fireplace “Ollivander’s” he shouts throwing the powder at his feet. Tom is quickly engulfed in green flames, disappearing. Repeating his actions, you feel a small bit of warmth on your skin before stepping out of a tall fireplace in a crowded attic.

“Home sweet home” you cough waving away dust in the air. “Come on, let's get the shop open.” You say rushing to the little hatch in the floor “Wait, you were being serious about the whole needing help at the shop?” Tom scoffed “Why else would I have invited you” winking you open the hatch and jump down.

A small old woman wearing tattered robes steps in “Costumer” Tom says from his spot on a high latter, stocking wands. “Good morning Miss Wheeler, your wand is ready just give me one second,” You say stepping into the workshop. “Good morning,” Tom says wiping the dust off his hands “You’re new,” she says leaning on the counter “Holiday helper” Tom jokes as you walk in with an old wand box. Placing it on the counter the old women slowly opens the box gasping when she sees the slim piece of wood. “It’s so beautiful,” she says weakly tears brimming in her eyes “How much?” she asks pulling out a small brown coil bag “Five silver” shooting you a confused look Tom keeps his mouth shut. Paying the woman extends her gratitude leaving the shop cradling the box. “A wand like that is at least five GOLD,” Tom says as you put the money away “It was her husband’s wand, it burned in a fire. It’s all she has of him.” A shrill scream from outside raises Tom from his chair, running outside you see three large men crowding the old woman. One trying to pry the wand from her grasp.

Pulling out his wand Tom points at the nearest man “Stupefy” he yells sending the man flying down the cobblestone streets. Turning to the pair of you the other men raise their wands “Back off kids and we won’t hurt you.” Flicking your wand at the smaller man her defects the quick spell shooting another at you, dodging it the men begin walking towards you “Confundo” Tom snaps flourishing his wand striking one man in the chest making him stumble and fall over grabbing his head “Why you little” one says raising his wand “Expelliarmus” you snap making his wand fly from his hand, “Accio” he screams as his wand flies back to his hand turning his attention to you he smirks “Everte Statum” feeling a rush of pressure you are flung back into a stack of boxes. Hearing a loud ringing your vision goes blurry for a moment seeing Tom fighting the man off he uses a spell to rocket the man down the street. Slowly raising to your feet, you notice the man Tom had charmed was free of the spell and was pointing his wand at you. Looking at your wand on the ground you freeze as the large man flicks his wrist “Sectumsempra” he shouts at you. Running and sliding on his feet Tom is hit with the brunt of the spell. Falling to the ground you hear the woman shout some spell you count quite make out. The tip of her wand was spewing white flames scaring the men off.

Grabbing your wand, you look back to Tom, gasping at the sight of him you rush to his side. A series of small gashes were visible on his exposed skin. Blood soaked through his shirt as he gasped for air writhing in pain. Closing your eyes, you think hard for a moment. waving your wand over his body “Vulnera Sanentur” you mutter as the blood slowly begins to disappear. Gripping your arm, he breathes in deeply sitting up with a jolt “Are you okay” he pants checking you for injuries. “Thanks for the save,” you say brushing his curls from his face “You could have died, I sure as hell didn’t know that spell you did.” “A lot of time in the infirmary you catch a few things” you joke helping him up hissing in pain. “Your arm” he snaps grabbing your hand leading you back into the shop.

“There all better” Tom says closing the first aid kit “Thank you,” you say as he puts it back in a cabinet. Walking over to you he looks deeply into your eyes “It was nothing” he says. Getting lost in his eyes you grab his collar and smash his lips against yours. For a moment he tenses but soon relaxes into the kiss and his hand finds its way to the back of your neck. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours “I should save you more often” grinning you kiss him again.

[thewhisperedwish]

The Whispered Wish

Invites you to join us for our grand re opening! We recently moved from our old plot to a large, don't worry, not too far... we're now at Ward Nine, plot Forty Three! To celebrate our tremendous success, and in an effort to thank you for bringing it to us, we're hosting a Picnic Basket Auction!

When? 6PM PDT, 9PM EST Saturday September 16th!

Where? Ward 9, Plot 43 of The Goblet! The new location of The Whispered Wish!

What? Well you heard me, a picnic basket auction! You’ll get a chance to come bid on a picnic basket, without knowing who exactly MADE that picnic basket... See, several of our wonderful staff here at The Wish made these baskets with their own desires and hearts in mind, so if you like a basket enough to bid on it, bid on it! If you play your cards right, perhaps you’ll even get to take the basket -maker- with you on an illustrious picnic date.

Who? YOU!

Keep reading below the break to see some of our wonderful picnic baskets that are going up for auction!

BASKET NUMBER ONE!

A small, plain basket contains two desert ponchos wrapped around its contents. Inside the ponchos are three bottles of sparking water, various brightly colored fruits (dragonfruit, papaya, limes, coconuts), sprigs of mint, rock salt, an assortment of tender jerky, coconut oil (good for the hair, dry skin, massages, and anywhere you might need a little extra lubrication), and a bottle of snake and scorpion tequila for the adventurous soul. 

BASKET NUMBER TWO!

A basket of brilliant crimson with a golden brocade pattern painted over the weave of wide wicker strips, with the edges of a scarlet blanket with another gold broacde worked into the soft fabric as it concealed the basket's contents. A bottle of fine spiced Limsan rum and two sparkling rocks glasses. A sweet red Gridanian dessert wine and the appropriate glassware came out next. The aroma of tender golden brown fried dodo pieces rose out of the shiny black box pulled from the basket’s depth. As a finale two more boxes were pulled from the basket. Two dozen chocolate truffles in several combinations and toppings from plain chocolate to ones coated in coco powder and others still drizzled with caramel, white chocolate, or even sweetened strawberry syrup graced one box. While a red velvet cake dense and moist covered in cream cheese frosting and drizzled with chocolate sat in the other.

BASKET NUMBER THREE!

A tastefully rural basket, gridanian style, brimming with home-made food, and drink. There's a quiche loraine resting inside, fragrant and delicious under a cute little floral-patterned cover, as well as fresh, home-made blueberry muffins, and assorted cookies. A few apples, bananas and sweet pears lay to the side, loomed over by several flasks of home-brewed mead. A bottle of water, with tasteful slices of cucumber in it to add freshness can also be seen, and to top it all off, is an elegant pet's collar.

BASKET NUMBER FOUR!

Kittens mew and play inside of a wicker basket, while next to it rests a larger wicker basket. Once the larger one is opened one would see such delights! Sweet strawberry wine, cookies, rice balls made to look like pandas, fruit skewers to resemble a rainbow and cupcakes galore! This basket is a reminder of what it means to be a child.

BASKET NUMBER FIVE!

Inside this wicker basket rests a smaller vessel of straberries, with bits of nevermelting ice to keep the fruit fresh. Beside it rests a bottle of champagne inside it's own container to keep it chilled. Both items are nestled on top of a fluffy silver blanket for when it gets chilly when the sun goes down, and to offer comfortable cuddles. And below that is a sturdy sheet to be laid out on the ground to protect clothing and to prove some comfort. Also tucked away in a side pocket is a nice, small wheel of brie cheese.

BASKET NUMBER SIX!

The small, plain wicker basket has a neatly tied red bow on the handle. The basket is well worn, a little dirty on the bottom, but obviously cared for otherwise. Opening one of the two lids reveals a small, stainless steel pan sitting on top of a hot plate, a deactivated fire crystal waiting on the pan. There are several bowls, one filled with raw strips of auroch steak, one filled with raw strips of dodo meat, and one with diced, assorted vegetables. There are four bottles, each filled with a sauce. One sauce is dark, and smells heavily of tomato and beer, one sauce is a light orange, with a sweet, yet spicy smell, one is a hot red, which burns the nose with just a whiff, and the last is a dark, near black liquid, smelling heavily of salt and soy.

BASKET NUMBER SEVEN!

Within the basket are several objects, several odd whirring magitek boxes, of simplistic design, designed to keep heat or freshness contained within the food, even the drink has it's own matching thermos, as well as bottle of Doman wine. However, once opened, one would find a feast of both exotic and typical delights: skewered fish on little spikes with some citrus fruit to soak into the meat. Doman tea, heated just right,  with some herbs within the water to enhance the flavor. Some hand made cookies sprinkled with cinnammon, as if straight from the oven. In the next container, is a platter of various fruits and vegetables, decorated with an edible flower! The final container is layered, at the top of one is a simple sponge cake, however deeper within is a shortbread-esque cake adorned with rasperies and cream.

BASKET NUMBER EIGHT!

A fairly standard picnic set up, with a mixture of snacks, main course, and dessert. It comes in a decently sized woven basket which opens outward from the center, one flap containing straps to secure plates, while the other can comfortably hold two full sized standard glasses. On the inside is contained a small platter of assorted fruits (rolanberries, plums, orange slices, etc.), along with a small pot, several bars of chocolate, and a packet of fire shards to make for a chocolate dipping sauce. Another platter contains a few half-cut sandwiches, triangle style, of buffalo milk cheese and sliced ham, lightly toasted over a fire, with a light dusting of ground garlic and a touch of salt and pepper. A small chocolate cake is found in the corner, enough for two, and is extraordinarily light and fluffy, with a smooth and creamy icing and a few small cookies acting as decorations on top. To top it all off is a bottle of standard red wine, not too cheap, but not overly expensive and fancy: not the best, but a decent substitute.

BASKET NUMBER NINE!

The basket would appear to be simple at first glance, the exterior not providing much in terms of appeal but that was only for the real goodies were within. Upon opening one would find their senses pleasantly struck by the aroma of natural, fruity scents. An elegant bouqet would then be the first thing to catch their attention, a powerful blue colour, tied in a gold lace with embroidery and details in black.A swirly, nearly floral pattern. A note attached below that would read- "For whoever it may land upon, I hope you enjoy. With great care I have made this and with great hope I wish for enjoyment to come out of it." A plush fashioned from a moogle could be found, silky and soft. A companion for many a night. A small box would contain a slice of chocolate cake, fork complimentary and neatly tied to the box. A chocolate bar with a rich colour and scent and cupcakes just as appetizing. Scented oils would be found in small vials, perfect for massages and the skin, holding a moisturizing, rejuvaniting nature to them and lastly a batch of scented candles, useful to both set the atmosphere and give a wonderful smell to any room they might find themselves in up to the very last drop of wax.

BASKET NUMBER TEN!

A book of classic poetry poked out of the simple, woven bamboo backet. It was adorned with ribbons the same dark blue as the landtrap leaves in the salad, and flowers twined around it's handles. It would make a decent container for flower-picking as well as for picknicking, perhaps hinting at an intended future life for the container.

AND BASKET NUMBER ELEVEN!

What could be more delightful than snuggling under a blanket and catching snowflakes on your tongue? Get ready to be cozy as you're sitting in front of a fire with your mystery picnickeer dipping rich chocolate truffles and succulent strawberries into creamy brie as your appetizer. For something with a bit more bite, an artisan baguette with hand picked eggs that can be prepared any way you like. To top it off, wrap a hand knitted blanket made by your mystery guest while sipping from bitter-sweet hot cocoa spiked with, as an option, emerald creme-de-menthe. Whether you're building a snowman or indulging in chocolate trickling cheeses, we're sure you'll enjoy this Winter Wonderland Picnic.