You Ever Saw A Pretty Guy Hula Hooping You Started Crying?

You ever saw a pretty guy hula hooping you started crying?

my fave part in anpanman: when Seokjin does this <3

yoongi in the soop my one true love

For those of you who like werewolf tales with a touch of magick. ;)

The Witch and the Werewolf

Prompt: A is a witch that lives in a nice, quiet cottage in the woods, with their closest (and pretty much only) neighbour being B. B will sometimes come over — for spells/potions/to say hello/etc. — and has expressed their concern for A several times, because it really isn’t all that safe to live alone in the middle of the woods. A is confident that they can protect themselves, but is always wary on the full moon when they can hear howling unlike any wolf they’ve ever heard … One night, while the full moon shines overhead, A finds the source of the howling — an injured werewolf that’s whimpering on A’s doorstep. A cares for the beast, and looks after it until morning when it changes back into human form … and is revealed to be B. (Source in master list)

Word count: 3,914 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

References: 1 Goo Goo Dolls’ “Black Balloon”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

‘A visitor! We have a visitor!’ the windchimes … chimed.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered if it’d be worth enchanting them to be able to tell me who was at the door at such moments as well. It wouldn’t be hard — at least, I reckoned it’d take the same amount of effort as making them somewhat sentient, which wasn’t much at all, really — and I was a competent witch, a statement I dared to own the fuck out of. The thing was, what would I do with this information? The visitors I had — few and far between, bar one habitué — were none I’d want to turn away.

‘Especially your habitué,’ said Broomstick, who’d stopped grooming herself just to deliver this hot take fresh out of the oven. ‘Being fancy, aren’t we, with the accent? “Habitué”. Rolls right off the tongue.’

‘It is your habitué!’ the windchimes said, incapable of not speaking in exclamation marks all the time. Inside voices: what were they? Also, there went my idea. Cool, cool. Guess I sometimes didn’t know the full extent of the spells I came up with until after the fact.

Standing up to receive, yes, the one steady visitor I’d never refuse the chance to see, I said, ‘Can we — can we please not start calling him that? He has a name.’ Broomstick feigned not registering the glower I directed at her. I knew she saw it. I knew she knew what she’d started.

‘Jacob! Jacob! Jacob!’ the windchimes chanted, like children repeating a word they shouldn’t.

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