#autumnlark

[mollywog]

Last year around this time I was itching to read and write something seasonal but didn’t know where to start. I had caught up on Spellbound by @katnissdoesnotfollowback (which is obviously brilliant!) and was on the hunt for other witchy AUs when I came across Make it Work by @captainseaweedbrains

This Fic is so sweet! The witchcraft is charming and the whole story has a sitcom/romcom feel. Go check it out!

Both stories inspired me to write my own little witchy fic - Everyday Magic

[manfrommars2049]

[Homemade] Cannolis via food

[mollywog]

*ding dong*

Trick or treat!

🎃👻🧛‍♂️🦇🧙‍♀️🕷💀😈

Welcome!!

Have some candy:

🍬🍫🍭

And as an added treat..

I’ve been thinking about the Werewolf AU ask you sent before and here’s the start of a one shot inspired by your ask!

(I can add to it in other trick or treat answers (if anyone’s interested!))

He’s too close to the festivities: he knows this, but he can’t keep away, prowling the perimeter of the grounds in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. He knows she’s near, can’t miss her scent even mingled with the overwhelming smells of bonfire and fried dough

Of course she’s here. It was only a matter of time before she realized she could do better than his sorry hide.

A whine escapes him unbidden. Get it together, he thinks to himself.

He’d like to know whose brilliant idea it was to hold the Harvestfest on a full moon. Likely the work of the local coven in an attempt to ferret out his likes. They’d been able to share Panem without incident for seventy four odd years, but recently the peace had begun to unravel; tensions were rising and it was only a matter of time before the witches and werewolves were in all out war.

He knows he should care more about the mounting conflict, but right now he can’t stop thinking about the state of his relationship with Katniss.

When he’d explained that couldn’t escort her to the harvestfest this year, their first as a couple, rather than the disappointment he’d expected, her eyes had betrayed only relief. She’d said she wasn’t able to attend either, a family obligation, she’d said, but he could tell that wasn’t exactly the truth.

She’d unconvincingly confirmed the bogus story just hours earlier when he’d spoken to her before sunset. But she’s here. His nose never fails… not that he could ever confront her about it:

I know you lied and were at the Harvest Fest, I could smell you. - he’d sound like a creep, or worse: like the mutt that he is.

He lowers his snout to the earth in an attempt to drown out the scent of honeysuckle and betrayal when his ears perk at the sound of a blood curdling scream…