#but then i look at the pumpkin spice in the cabinet and there’s no pumpkin???

[listen-to-my-eyes]

just found out pumpkin spice doesn’t have any pumpkin in it??? huh??

[redrose10]

Since I’ve been really stressed and anxious and it’s Halloween today I distracted myself by writing this. It’s a continuation of 1800s witch Yoongi from this post. I hope everyone likes it!

Witch Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut, jealous possessive Yoongi

Word Count: 2,703

For the last year you had been living with your boyfriend Yoongi, the two hundred year old witch that you accidentally freed from the Twilight. You experienced lots of ups and downs over the course of your relationship just like any couple would except when mad your boyfriend wouldn’t just storm off but instead would vanish into thin air. You also had a dedicated cabinet in your kitchen full of things you thought only existed in fairytales like eye of newt and a lock of werewolf fur.

For the most part Yoongi was great though. He was kind and thoughtful and made you laugh even if he wasn’t trying.

You always had a warm towel waiting for you after your shower. The dryer was one of his favorite modern appliances according to him.

You woke up to a fresh cup of coffee every morning, usually pumpkin spice flavored. Some mornings he tried to cook you breakfast but the microwave still made him nervous. He said it was unnatural and dangerous and he didn’t trust it.

He carried your purse when it was too heavy and he would rub your feet after a long day.

And the sex…the sex was amazingly incredible. You weren’t sure if it was a witch thing or just a Yoongi thing but he left you speechless Every. Single. Time.

While you knew he wasn’t a man of many words it did hurt a little that after a year together he still hadn’t said he loved you.

You said it. The first time was after dating for five months. It was very cliché and right after an amazing night of sex. Yoongi just nodded and quickly ran off to the shower without saying a word.

The next time was in the morning as you were heading out the door. It just slipped from your mouth. Yoongi smiled and said thank you but that was it.

The third time you said it was on a date night. You were walking along the river holding hands after having a romantic dinner. The moment just felt right. Yoongi however pretended he didn’t hear you and instead pointed at some ducks that were chasing each other around. His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink so you knew he heard you and chose to ignore it.

You didn’t say it any more after that night. And ever since it had gnawed at you little by little.

Maybe he didn’t really want to be with you after all and he just didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe he felt like he owed you since you freed him. Maybe he was using you for sex until someone better came along. All these thoughts and feelings started wearing you down. The two of you started arguing more. You tried to distance yourself a little. But no matter what happened you still got out of the shower and had a warm towel every time and you always woke up to a fresh cup of coffee in the morning.

You hadn’t heard from Yoongi all day. Jimin recently got him a job at the campus bookstore. You were glad he could get out of the house a little more and it gave him something to do. You also appreciated him being able to contribute financially.

You decided to stop into the store and say hi.

“Hey Jimin”, you smiled as you walked up to the counter. He looked visibly uncomfortable after seeing you but you chose to ignore it.

“Where’s Yoongi?”, you asked instead.

“Ooohhh he’s around. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He was acting strange. You wanted to question him but really you just wanted to see Yoongi. You could smell his cologne. The comforting familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent was in the air so you knew he was near by. Then you heard a woman’s voice, it was very sultry and confident and also followed by your boyfriends distinct laugh.

Yoongi was standing by some bookshelves talking to a woman. She was gorgeous with thick long black hair down to her hips and eyes so blue they looked inhuman. Yoongi was smiling from ear to ear.

“Who is that?”, you asked to yourself but also intentionally loud enough for Jimin to hear.

Jimin nervously chuckled, “She’s no one. Just a customer.”

“Really? Because it definitely looks like Yoongi knows her pretty well.”

“Yeah well you know Yoongi is a great salesman…Hey Y/N have you read this book? It’s really good. I highly recommend.”

“Jimin, that’s the dictionary... Tell me who she is?”

“Her name is Bellamy. She’s just a person that we’ve known for a while. Not important.”, he said still trying to change the subject, “Look at this cookbook. I bet they have a great chocolate cake recipe but I have a better one. It’s the touch of arsenic. It really gives it that something special.”

“So she’s a witch?”, you questioned.

“Yeah you could say that or she might be like the most powerful witch of all time but who’s keeping track. Like I said she’s not important.”, he coughed afterwards.

“You’re lying to me. Your voice is doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where it gets all high pitched when you’re lying. I won’t be mad. Tell me who she is exactly and why is Yoongi touching her arm right now.”

Jimin ran a hand through his freshly dyed hair, “She is umm…She might be…She is kind of Yoongi’s ex who… he…was… goingtomarrybutthenshelefthimatthealter.”

“I’m sorry what?”, you chuckled.

“Oh for fucks sake.”, he huffed, “She is Yoongi’s ex fiancé. They were going to get married but then she walked out on him and then he got sent to the Twilight and now they’re both here.”

“She’s beautiful. He looks like he’s really happy to see her.”, you said feeling a bunch of different emotions.

“Well yeah I mean he said she was the only woman he could ever love.”

You turned to glare at Jimin. He knew about all of your confessions going unanswered. His eyes widened at the realization of what he said.

“Oh would you look at the time.”, he sighed looking at his nonexistent watch, “It is time for my break.”

“You’re not even wearing a watch?”, you questioned.

“Don’t have to. It’s a witch thing.”, he winked before quickly scurrying away.

In that time Yoongi noticed you and excitedly walked over.

“Hi babe, when did you get here?”, he asked trying to give you a kiss which you dodged much to his disappointment.

“Who was that?”, you asked pointing at the woman exiting the store.

“She’s just an old friend. Her name is Bellamy.”

“Mmmhm.”, your annoyance was building especially at how nonchalant he was being about the whole thing.

“Actually I was thinking…we should all go out to dinner tonight. Jimin and his wife, you and me, and Bellamy. We could all catch up. She wanted to go over some witch coven things. I told her I’d only go if you came along too.”

No you didn’t want to go to dinner with your boyfriend and his first and apparently only love. In your mind he was already leaving you. Why wouldn’t he? She was a beautiful powerful witch and you were an average nobody. He was going to pack his stuff and run away with her and leave you alone and longing for him. You couldn’t blame him though. If she was the one he loved, the only woman he ever told that he loved then he should be with her.

“Y/N what do you think?”, he questioned pulling you out of your daydream.

You decided you would let him go if he really wanted to but not without a taste of his own medicine first. That’s just how you were.

“Umm yeah that’s fine. I was actually going to have dinner with an old friend tonight though. Do you think it would be okay if I invited them too or I could just pass and the four of you could go instead?”, you questioned.

“Yeah I guess.”, he stated confused and a little hurt that there was someone else you’d rather spend time with.

“Great.”, you deadpanned.

“Okay well I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at home.”, he said. He gave you a kiss which you wanted to ignore but you gave in and allowed his lips to meet yours.

You and Yoongi arrived at the restaurant where Jimin and his wife were already waiting. Much to your annoyance Bellamy was already there too. She greeted you but you could tell it was forced and that only made you more irritated. Of course Yoongi took the seat next to her with you on his other side. He immediately started conversing with her while you sat in silence. Jimin and his wife were across the table trying to keep to themselves as they could sense the tension in the room.

“Y/N, sorry I’m a bit late. Parking was horrible.”, a man said before taking the seat next to you.

“No worries at all, we just got here too.”, you widely smiled.

Kim Seokjin was often deemed the most handsome man on campus. Women and men would throw themselves at him while begging for a chance and he just so happened to owe you after you covered for him when he got caught hooking up with one of your professors.

And what better way to collect your dues than to have him come out to dinner and be your extremely attractive and flirty classmate/friend/former fling.

Jimin, having worked on campus for so long and being no stranger to gossip, knew what you were up to. He shook his head knowing this wasn’t going to end well.

“Yoongi this is Jin and Jin this is Yoongi.”, you introduced them before also getting around to everyone else.

Yoongi eyed him up and down but returned to his conversation with Bellamy. So you turned on your flirting to a whole new level. Your giggles were extra loud. You touched Jins arm and shoulder multiple times. You used your napkin to wipe away at some sauce that had gotten on his cheek.

You did all this and got no reaction from Yoongi. Nothing other than his hand on your knee underneath the table where no one could even see it.

You wanted to cry because he really truly wasn’t in love with you. He didn’t even care that you were practically all over Jin right in front of him.

You had been thinking it for months now but seeing the way he looked at Bellamy, how he hung onto each word she said. You could see the difference in how he felt towards her compared to you.

So you spent the rest of the dinner in silence other than a few words here or there if directly spoken to. When the meals were over and it was time to leave you gave Jin a hug while secretly thanking him for going along with everything even though you didn’t get the outcome you wanted. You also said your goodbyes to Jimin and his wife and Bellamy who seemed hesitant to let Yoongi go.

The drive home was silent. Yoongi’s hand was still on your knee while you were stuck in your thoughts.

You took a long hot shower once back at your place. The recent stress was really taking a toll on your muscles. When you were ready to exit the shower you pulled back the curtain getting startled by Yoongi. He was standing there folding your towel. He handed it to you with a smile, “Sorry I’m a little behind. That smoke alarm thingy kept beeping again. I couldn’t get it to stop so I just used a spell to cast it away.”

Normally you would be annoyed and would take the time to explain to him that he can’t just make things disappear when they annoyed or scared him, R.I.P. to your poor toaster, but your towel was soft and warm from being fresh out of the dryer and the nice gesture made you cry. You were really going to miss him.

“Hey hey what’s wrong? I’ll buy a new smoke alarm. I’m sorry.”, he said wide eyed and shocked by your tears.

You shook your head unable to really put your thoughts into words so instead he wrapped the warm towel around you and lead you into the bedroom. He handed you a large tshirt to change into before pulling you to sit down next to him on the bed.

Once you were calmed down he grabbed your hand and held onto it, “Y/N please talk to me. What’s going with you lately?”

You sniffled, “Do you love me Yoongi?”

You surprised yourself with your boldness.

“What? Why are you asking me that?”

“See! You can’t even answer with a simple yes.”, you scoffed.

Yoongi licked his lips, “Is this about Bellamy?”

“No!…or yes…maybe a little.”, you whispered.

“Y/N talk to me. I can read your mind if I really want to but I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s just…wait you can read minds?!”

He nodded, “Yeah I can Miss Always Thinking About How Good My Butt Looks.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up making him laugh.

“Now please talk to me.”, he calmly said.

“We’ve been together for a year and you’ve never said you loved me. I thought I didn’t care but over time it started bothering me. Then I saw the way you looked at her and Jimin said she was the only woman you could ever love and I guess I just got jealous and even more hurt because I was afraid to loose you.”

“So you invited Jin to dinner tonight to make me jealous?”

“Yeah but it didn’t matter. You didn’t even notice. You were probably hoping he’d take me off your hands and make it easier for you to leave.”

He loudly snorted, “I definitely noticed. I spent the entire dinner trying to remember the spell for turning someone into a wart covered toad. It took everything in me not to turn him into dust the second he said you looked sexy in that dress.”

“What? He never said anything like that.”, you questioned but Yoongi just pointed to his head and you knew he must’ve read Jin’s mind.

“Y/N I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Bellamy, she’s….she’s an important part of my past but that’s it. She’s my past. We needed to talk about some things but none of it affected you do I didn’t bring it up. Plus, she had her chance with me and blew it. Besides…I kind of already like someone else.”, he smiled seeing the way your eyes lit up.

“You like me?”, you asked.

“Nope”, he teased before kissing your hand, “Y/N I love you. I’m sorry I never said it. I was scared that if I said it out loud then it would make it all too real and there’d be a bigger possibility of loosing everything. I tried to show you in other ways but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

You squeezed his hand feeling bad that you had been so focused on hearing him say it that you didn’t notice every little thing he did to show you that he loved you instead.

“I’m not great with words but I promise I’ll try to tell you more often how much I love you.”

You smiled as his lips tickled your neck.

He pushed you back down onto the bed.

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on on the lips*

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on the neck*

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on your chest*

“I love you Y/N and I’m going to make you forget that Kim Seokjin exists because you’re mine and only mine and don’t you ever think about touching another man like that again.” *kisses started moving lower and lower down your body until your hands were tangled in his long hair.

You were busy giggling as he removed your shirt before quickly going back to peppering your body with more kisses in between declarations of I love you’s. You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing those three little words fall from his heavenly magical lips.

[multifandom-pleasures]

shadow x reader

you walked into shadow staring intently at the coffee machine set inside the kitchenette of robotnik’s ship. he’d been recently freed from his cryogenic chamber and was growing accustomed to the more modern life; considering the time he was last roaming was 50 odd so years ago; and figuring out the functions of everything onboard. he always bragged of his power and intelligence, so it was quite humorous to see him grumbling to himself as he attempted to figure out the little machine that sat atop the counter.

“ figured it out yet? “ you called to him from the doorframe, the only signal that he heard you was a small twitch from his ear. after a beat of silence he spoke.

“ how long have you stood there for. “

“ long enough. “ he seemed annoyed at that, shoulders hunching for a moment before he crossed his arms and turned to face you, his constant face of stoicism remaining.

“ I have not. “ he admitted, looking like the statement didn’t affect him - even though you knew he knew that you’d seen him glaring at the coffee machine. a smile twitched at the corner of your lip as you made your way over to him.

“ have you ever even had coffee? “ you asked as you slipped beside him to open up a cabinet, stretching for a mug that lay on the shelf.

“ no, but it’s tempted me. dr. robotnik - “ he paused and grimaced, “ gerald, my creator, would drink it often when doing tasks and experiments on the ark. he would not let me try it. “

“ what, he said no and you listened? “ you teased, and he frowned at you, looking somewhat sheepish. it was silly through other’s eyes, “ well, anyways, I’ll show you how it works. wanna try a flavor or just plain coffee? “

“ flavors? “ shadow seemed intrigued, watching as you pulled over a little pod carousel. you couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the way he peered over your shoulder to examine the selection, which caused him to promptly step aside.

“ yeah - there’s like.. caramel, vanilla, hazelnut, toffee nut, pumpkin spice.. and then just regular one without any flavor. robotnik likes that one. it’s gross. “ shadow gave you a pointed look and reached to nab a pod from the holder, giving it to you. you judged him silently for the selection, but obeyed and popped open the top.

“ you put this little pod in here, and then close it. “ you explained your actions as you did them, and then grabbed the mug to put into the slotted section in the machine, “ then, these buttons up top are for the size cup. always just pick the middle one, all our mugs are the same. “ you could feel the hedgehog’s body heat returning close beside you as he watched you, looking too intensely considering the fact it was just coffee, “ then, you press this big button and it’ll do the rest on its own. “

you stepped back as the machine began to make a subtle sound, and coffee began to drip into the cup. you looked over to shadow and smiled smugly.

“ can the ultimate life form handle that next time? “ he huffed at you, throwing a glare before his focus returned to the machine before you, watching the steady stream and the scent of roasted coffee beans beginning to fill the room.

“ and it stops on its own? “ you nod, and he looked slightly impressed. you both stood in somewhat comfortable silence as the machine worked, and as the final drips settled into the mug, you motioned for him to grab onto it.

“ it’s hot though, so careful - don’t burn yourself. “ shadow scoffed as his gloved hand reached for the ceramic.

“ I think I can manage it. “ he replied, bringing the mug up to his face in order to sniff, and when he seemed pleased at the aroma he sipped. you noticed his eye twitch slightly, and he turned away as he swallowed down the liquid. when he faced you again you held a smirk, raising a brow, “ shut up. “

you both moved to the little dining table - two chairs, one for each of you. there was never any need for more as it was only you and robotnik who ever used the kitchen. shadow had allowed his drink to cool down considerably before attempting another sip, and you watched as his eyes slid closed and a soft little hum rise from his throat. when he opened his eyes again, you gave him a smile.

“ like it? “

“ it’s.. pleasant. bitter but, not unbearably so. “ he replied, lifting the mug once more to drink from it. he nodded and sighed, “ yes, I like it. “ you gave a small, triumphed cheer as you rose from your seat.

“ great! now we can spend our morning making coffee together. “ you padded your way to make your own cup of coffee, unaware of the steely, red eyes following your movements, “ maybe I can get you to try the other flavors - they’re definitely better than just plain black y’know. and there’s soooo many.. “

too enraptured in your talking and moving, you didn’t catch the glimpse of a smile shadow wore, sitting patiently awaiting for you as he continued to sip from his mug.

[daycourtofficial]

please PLEASE one STEAMING hot caramel cappuccino + a pumpkin spice americano with marshmallows…(the modern au of her finding out she’s pregnant with atlas? make it angsty? like it’s a big family fight esp because she’s unmarried maybe…IDK HOWEVER YOU IMAGINED IT QUEEn!)

omg modern gf pregnancy reveal honestly iconic I went with her finding out but if someone wanted a huge family blowup I could absolutely do it 👀

Order a coffee for Gingerfucker week here

“Az, I can’t look.” Your words were spoken through the door, apprehension lacing every word. The wood felt so solid beneath your back, but you needed more support than it offered. “Can you- can you come in here?”

You heard shuffling from the other side of the door, scooting forward off the door to allow Azriel to slip in. You leaned against the wall instead, letting his large body slip inside. He shut the door behind him, keeping his eyes on you, not once even looking toward the bathroom counter.

“I’m not touching it.” He slowly sank down next to you, his long legs scrunched together in the cramped space. You slightly leaned into him, already feeling braver with his support.

“Why not?” You moved your gaze from the wooden cabinets in front of you, looking up at him.

“You peed on it.”

“I only peed on part of it and the part I peed on has a cap on it.”

“Every relationship has a line.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You looked away from him, taking in the perfectly cleaned tiles of the floor. He was right - you couldn’t help wondering if Eris was that line.

“I’m not looking.” You knew what he was telling you. He couldn’t be the first to know the results. You had to know first. He couldn’t be the one to tell you this.

“Okay.”

“We can sit here until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

Azriel thought over your words, chewing them around in his mind. He took a moment, wanting his words to be right when they came out.

“I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. There has never been anything you haven’t been able to handle.”

His eyes held such sincerity, his strong gaze enough to help push you up off the floor. You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. You and Eris had been so careful when sneaking around, multiple layers of birth control potentially ineffective.

You squeezed your eyes shut, deciding if it was positive, you would call Eris. You wanted him here, but it would have been impossible to sneak him into your family’s lake house. If it was positive, you’d make some excuse to leave. You had to see him. This wasn’t a phone call conversation.

It was a long weekend, most of your family out of the house on an alcohol and grocery run. Azriel came in this morning, unable to leave the city until a few hours ago. You had called him, asking him to stop at a pharmacy on the way in and to make sure everyone was gone before he crept in.

He hadn’t asked anything, only wanting to know if you wanted to be alone. You thought you had, initially keeping him on the other side of the door. But Eris couldn’t be here and you weren’t sure you could face this completely alone.

You looked at the stick, the word ‘pregnant’ in bold letters looking back at you. It felt like a turning point in your life - nothing would be the same, everything would have to change. You would have to come clean - no more lying, sneaking, or hiding.

“I’m pregnant.” The words tumbled from you, your brain trying to rationalize this outcome. You had realized this morning you were late, your period overdue by several weeks. How had you not noticed until now? You cut in before Azriel could say anything. “Don’t ask. You can’t ask.”

“Was it consensual? Because I will-“ you cut him off, unable to listen as his voice rose slowly, his brows knitting at the thought.

“It was consensual. But you can’t ask.”

“Okay.” You could hear how much he wanted to know, your best friend’s constant need to know everything practically yelling at him.

The two of you sat in silence, but you felt Azriel moving slowly, as if warning you of his impending touch. His scarred fingers wrapped your hand, squeezing softly as he spoke.

“If you need someone to, you know. Whatever you choose. I’ll be there for you.”

Doubt began creeping in. If he knew it was Eris’, would he? Or would he never wish to see you again?

“Thanks Az. But I think- I think I want it.”

You wanted it all with Eris - the baby, the publicity, the scrutiny, the fallout from your family. You wanted every last bit of it as long as he was right next to you.

You wanted it all - your family, Eris, this baby. But if you had to pick sides, you’re picking Eris over and over again.

[bonezaw]

Tf2 Halloween Headcanons

- Pyro and Solider always absolutely DEVOUR the candy. As they are at war, and unable to go trick or treating, Ms. Pauling lets them have exactly one (1) bag of cheap candy per year. Pyro likes the wax soda bottles, and Solider likes the Whoppers.

- Medic WILL show everyone The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and M. Scout is either absolutely fucking horrified, or bored during both.

- Speaking of Scout, when watching movies, he is a screamer. Catch him instinctively clinging onto Sniper, then letting go, because 'that's gay, man'.

- Sniper loves creature and survival based horror movies. I don't know much of these, but I'm imagining those old movies with the giant spiders and excesive blood. Sometimes, when someone dies, or if someone gets a particularly good shot, he'll chuckle, and go, "haha, noice".

- Solider demands everyone watch his old propaganda horror films. They are terrible. He talks and shouts the entire time, slinging insults at fictional communists. This is usually the point in the night where everyone falls asleep.

- After watching movies, Medic spends the entirety of his night reading medical horror stories, and sitting in his chair, quietly cackling. It's his little Halloween treat.

- Demo made pumpkin spice rum. Everyone who drinks it vomits profusely, then immediately and violently dies.

- Pyro's sad he can't go trick or treating. Scout misses being a kid. Halloween makes him really miss his brothers.

- Spy constantly goes on about how much he hates holidays, but secretly, Halloween is his guilty favorite. Throughout the day, everyone gets the bejesus scared out of them, and none of them ever know it was him.

- Scout leaps a good foot into the air after Engie makes one of those hand-grabbing candy bowls.

- Speaking of which, Engie manages to supply some fairly decent looking pumpkins. He will demonstrate to anyone who'd like to see, how quickly his gunslinger can degut a pumpkin.

- Demo tells drunken horror stories of monsters, and, Sniper- Oh. He is talking about that time he kissed a Yowie.

- Medic walks into the living room covered in blood, and everyone screams for a good several seconds before calming down.

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Lifeboat 14 Cinnamon, oh my!

Also on Ao3. sorry I forgot to finish posting it here <_< have some more cozy GT?

.

Chapter 14:

Lana wondered if ice cream was in this world as she pressed against the warm hand that came behind her. She was still very leery of the sheer size differences between her and Sesa, but the giant woman’s hand was very warm compared to the ‘basement’ like room. It made the chill tolerable but this was not a place Lana would want to stay long without some proper clothes. 

“Are you okay Lana?” Sesa asked, setting a few jars down on the same table as the Bitta. 

“Yeah, I wasn't expecting it to be… snowing indoors.” Lana noted as some of the disturbed frost from the self above was drifting down to the counter she was standing on.

“It won't be long,” Sesa assured as she carefully pulled her hand back. Looking through the items on that shelf, setting a few things down. “Even though I have to clean up down here, it's a good sign the cold stones are still working fine with no stress. I might have to get another before the hot season.”

“That bad?” Lana worried as she walked around the things in the counter with her. Glad the ‘ground’ under her seemed to be just well sanded wood. Though cold and nippy her feet were not freezing through her shoes. 

“Some days are worse than others.” Sesa explained, “In those ones I take chunks of the weakest stone to try and cool down the cabin. When they recharge in winter, I can use them to make a food cabinet cold for most of the next year.”

“Like a fridge!” Lana laughed, walking around and looking inside a clear jar about twice as tall as her, but with frozen flowers inside. They looked vaguely familiar, about a foot to two feet long, and a muted red-orange color. They seemed mostly dried before being frozen.

There was something about the smell though that lingered around the jar.

“Sesa? What's this?” Lana asked looking up as the giant woman was inspecting some solid frozen disks that were about the size of her hand with what looked like a waxy paper covering. 

Sesa paused, taking a second to track where the tiny human had gotten to in such a short amount of time. “Oh, those are a kind of fever flower. Or…no fever? They help you if you're sick. Smells pretty strong… not sure why I put them down here.”

“Can I…this sounds strange, can I smell it?” Lana asked, sheepishly stepping back from the jar. She startled at the sudden laughter from Sesa. “What?!”

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you Lana.” Sesa set the frozen disks down and motioned gently for the tiny one to back away so she could pick up the jar in question. “The other name for this is a tree Bitta flower. There's a few flowers called Bitta flowers really, this one just comes from trees.”

The giant opened the jar, twisted the lid to break some frost. The lid was made to fit over the outside and inside of the ring of glass. Sesa carefully picked out one of the frozen flowers on top, offering it too Lana with a smile still. Not quite sure what would happen as smaller hands took it. It looked almost like the frame of a basket in Lana's hands with the wiry pebbles as she inspected it, turning the frozen flower over before sniffing it.

“It is strong, but it smells like… it smells like a mix of ginger and nutmeg.” Lana said looking up, delighted, paused and pinch off a miniscule bit to the giant to hesitantly taste. Not eating but tasted, like she had a few times to test if something would be good or not for her.

“Bleh, oh yeah tastes like it too.”

“Good thing?” Sesa asked as a chuckle rumbled through her watching the reaction. Noticing that that flower was now Lana's by the tiny body language. 

“Very good thing! It means we have two spices equivalent for pumpkin pie.” Lana laughed, flicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Making sure there was no odd sensation, that she was breathing right still. She was struggling a bit with remembering what all had to be done to make sure she did not have a bad reaction. 

“Really?” Sesa looked at the jar in surprise, clearly trying to imagine what this pie would taste like. “Medicinal plants are like some of your spices?”

“...I think a lot of herbs are like that.” Lana considered, “Lots of cooking herbs and stuff is good for you, even if just for a better way of absorbing vitamins.” 

“What else do we need?” Sesa mused, then held one of the wrapped disks up, “Is this enough cream?” 

“Oh plenty,” Lana assured, looking up from the flower she held, so far she was feeling alright. It reminded her of the mace off of nutmeg. Lana hoped she could see this flower blooming soon.

Sesa made an interesting sound as she was looking at things on the counter, other herbs as far as Lana could tell. 

The giant woman brightened up, “Ooh, I remember why I froze a lot of these. I was trying to beat the first big winter storm gathering things. It was easier to freeze them and deal with it later.”

Lana eyed the big…. massive basement space that was both incredibly deep and wide. It was as large as the cabin above but… a basement. There was a lot of storage space, and not all being used at all, let alone efficiently. As a lot of the middle of the room was just open. “At least you have the room to do that?”

“I probably should dry them out.” 

“Then we should do it.” Lana said, getting herself into an open spot, the lacey like flower still held. “There's going to be time to start that jar at least while the pie bakes.”

It was interesting to see the giant take a deep breath. Cheeks puffed for a moment before Sesa sighed even deeper and then started to gather a few jars to tuck in her left arm. Holding them against her body, with the frozen disk in that hand. Offering her now free right to Lana. The giant grinned as the Bitta grasped the side of her hand. 

Even though Lana hesitated, she was not flinching as much. It was an improvement from the first meeting, though Sesa was realizing she likely did not give the best first impression. Lana had been, still was painfully cute looking though.

It was such an odd thrill when the Bitta pulled herself up to sit on Sesa's hand willingly. The woman was being as gentle as she could be, holding Lana closer to her chest. Trying to make sure she would be stable.

The trip back upstairs to the cabin proper was not that long. Sesa moved into the kitchen to let Lana hop off on the same counter they used in the morning. The Bitta moved towards the wall where the improvised older stove was for her. Not yet moved to Lana's new home.

Sesa was setting things down on the counter now that Lana was safely out of the way. Then moved to set more little jars, about as tall as Lana, of cooking spices on the counter as well. The ones she found and harvested, a few traded from locals that had that same Smokey look to them. A few jars that looked like they came from the store, and possibly from farther away as one looked like dried cactus to the Bitta.

“Should I get the other medicine plants?” Sesa asked, finding a nice big bowl to put the frozen cream in. Then a few pans, one for roasting the squash and the others for drying out the frozen herbs. 

“If they're safe to eat, why not?” Lana was sitting down to wait for things to stop moving around again. She held up the thawed, lacy flower, “We might find something like this. Likely not looking like what I know, but smells and tastes like something.”

Lana was tapping the flower, it was thawing pretty quick and needed drying time. “You have a stove top, Sesa, is there an oven?”

“Not a big oven but yes I have one.” Sesa paused and considered, “I have a bigger wooden oven, smoker outside. But I think you mean for the herbs? The inside oven will do that.”

Lana nodded, then saw the giant woman was kneeling to look in a cabinet under the counter. “Yes, and the pie. Can we thaw the cream without cooking it? It needs to stay cool.”

“Oh I can do that, yes.” Sesa smiled, coming up with a pot and a large bowl. “Is that going to be too big for the… whipped cream?”

“Perfect!” The tiny woman chirped. “It'll expand a lot, even if we don't use the whole thing.”

“Having some extra cream would be nice to have with tea tonight.” Sesa thought aloud as she got up and stretched her back. Having a few free days was... nice. Some maintenance choirs aside.

Sesa wondered if she should bring Lana to the garden before evening. Or just show around some of the outside today or tomorrow. Maybe the porch? Lana did not seem like she was needing to go outside of the cabin urgently, and was currently interested in the sugar left over from the morning and finding out how to crush it even finer. It would be a really fine powder at this rate. Sesa opened the oven to her right, lifting the metal grate out and used a tool hanging to the side of the door, tapping around on top of the wide, deep stone so it would activate. Fitting the grate back on, she reached for a big spoon.

The giant got some more of the heat stone fragments around the main stone, something she normally would not bother with. It would not be hard to carve a soft stone to make Lana an oven. Sesa realized she did not make one of those yet. Able to get some of the chips for that and a new one for the little cooking station left on the counter. As the cooking hot rock from that morning was moved to the crate. 

Thinking about it, Sesa looked around, getting up to grab a small cup, oven closed up to get nice and warm. The chips and some sand put in the mug, Sesa moved to get a chair as well, grabbing some carving tools and a nice chunk of black granite. Sesa had found some nice pieces on a beach, the last fishing trip before yesterday. 

Lana was looking up and had walked to the big knife block, looking thoughtful. Sesa saw her pull a folding knife that positively looked like the ittiest bitty knife the woman had ever seen.

“I miss my kitchen knives.” Lana noted. 

“I’m sorry, I'm not sure if I have anything useful for your size.” Sesa winced, there were so many things that made life easier that… was about as big as the bitta. Not fit to her scale. 

“I at least have this, it was my foraging knife so… would you have a wet stone?” Lana turned, and seeing the puzzled look she remembered the concept of hot and cold…magic stone things. Lana tried again. “Sharpening stone?”

“Yes to that... Ooooh, wait I get it, wet stone. Need to use water on sharpening rocks for metal.”

“Exactly.” Lana nodded, thankful many things seem similar between their people. Names and size scale aside. “At least knives can be made of a lot of things for my size. Metal chips or shavings for you, if not rust. Copper? Glass, obsidian… hell even bone, antler or flint. I miss my ulu knife.” 

“What is that?” Sesa asked, setting her carving things aside until later. Not sitting just yet either as the giant started to open the jar with the fever plants. Picking the easiest out first to spread out evenly. The whole jar’s worth should fit on the flat pan. Sesa smiled as Lana brought her flowers over to neatly put in the row. 

“I think most of this will have to thaw in the jar to get out.” Sesa noted, using a fork to gently prod the mess of jammed pedals. “I packed it too tight.”

“This should be enough.” Lana was eyeing the flowers on the pan. “Let's look at the other herbs and spices and plant stuff!”

Sesa chuckled, setting the jar well away, putting the lid back on. “All right Lana. Let's see if anything is like what you know?”

“Yeees!” Lana laughed, delighted with this task. Her excitement and curiosity seemed infectious despite her small size. 

Sesa had to open the lids, some of the spices she could put in the pods. Same with the medicinal herbs could do the same, even things for tea. Like the hips of a cliff side tea bush that Sesa got to grow in her garden. Lana had grabbed a dried hip as big as her arm, and thicker than her leg. Yet the bitta sat down to give the hip a thorough inspection. Then cut it open, Sesa a little jealous how easy it was for Lana to pick out the delicate seeds.

“Can you… save those?” Sesa asked, awed at the little stack of seeds. “I've never been able to save those seeds or get them to sprout. I keep crushing them… had to transplant young plants and only one has survived since then.”

Lana blinked up, picking up one of the brown, palm sized seeds. She turned it over in her hands, the hip in her lap. It seemed sturdy to Lana, but the issue made sense. “I can try?” 

“What does it remind you of?” Sesa asked, moving to sit after checking the pot she had started to thaw out the cream. The gourd in the oven and the seeds and guts from, set aside. Lana wanted to look at the seeds later.

“...cinnamon,” Lana said thoughtfully, cutting some of the dried hip, it was like leathery fruit that had been dehydrated, just had some stiff fibers around the seeds in the center. It smelled just like cinnamon, but nothing sour or moldy. “How did you dry it?”

“Most hips dry on the bush in late summer, other’s I’ve just set in the oven when it's not hot. Just warm.” Sesa explained, leaning back in her chair, mostly putting her close to the counter height. She glanced at the oven, judging how long the gourds should stay inside to stay soft. Using butter inside the hallowed spot instead of oil or water was an interesting idea. It was starting to smell good already.

“Warm and dry air, that’s good.” Lana examined the hip, turning one half in her lap, the other to her right with seeds to the left. She sliced some of the dried fruit off, sniffed and hesitantly put it in her mouth. Lana did not bite, still trying to think of how to check if things were toxic to you. Annoyed at herself for this big brain fart as Lana set the piece down, going back to check the rest of the hip, cutting through it sideways this time. Finding no more seeds and then went quiet. Lana looked baffled.

“Pulp… not just fruiting… fibers.” Lana said, half to herself as she picked up the other half that was emptied. Like a melon or pumpkin that had been hollowed. But still had a few fibers.

“What was that?” Sesa looked up, looking carefully at the tiny human, bitta. Recognizing the absorbed in a task look that Lana had, not just from others but Sesa had seen Lana get like that last night on the way home when allowed to investigate the… cor-en. Ground cover grass.

The giant woman waited on a hunch, and it was not that long before Lana jumped to herself. 

“It’s a rose hip!” Lana turned to look at the baffled Sesa, scrambling up to her feet, “Do you have any of the flower petals? Or can I see the bush?”

A tree sized rose bush! That seemed impossible and amazing!

“This jar of tea has some petals.” Sesa said, reaching slowly over the counter, touching one of the jars. Watching in a bemused way as the bitta scrambled up to go see the flower petals that had been in the mix of something she did not get to yet. “I should have dried-press leaves in grandpa's book of foraging, unless you want to stop to see the plant?”

“Can I see both?” Lana bounced in place, trying to peer in the jar, then back to examining the broken petals and other tea leaves. “A rose that smells and tastes like cinnamon! This is amazing!”

Sesa looked at the oven, there should be enough time. The giant got up, putting the pan with the flowers inside, and then took the pot of cream off the oven. Turning, Sesa tried not to move too fast to put her hands on the counter. And just about had Lana flopping over the back of one hand. The Bitta popped up and flustered as she backed up, trying to not show that she had tripped and fell anymore then she could. It was not that good, and the massive hand turned to open palm up.

“It's okay Bitta, Lana. I might have bumped the counter.” Sesa said, smiling and waited until small hands grasped the side of her own fingers. 

Lana pulled herself up into the hand, not really sure if it had been the vibration in the counter or her own blinding excitement. She was oddly thankful that Sesa’s other hand came up to act like a shield. An added barrier against a very, very long fall down to the ground. The young woman watched Sesa walking to the front door, avoiding the boxes set to the side now.

Outside was just a little cooler than inside, mostly from the mountain breeze and being up high. Lana grasped what she could of Sesa’s hand, reflexively hunkering a little lower with the movement. As steady as Sesa was, there was a slow sway from her walking pace after the steps down. Then Lana got a better look at this giant’s yard.

Like what she saw out the window, but could see from up here the walking paths. The big barn and vast wide leaves in a garden. A big squash plant took up a whole fence that made it through winter, there was some damage from winter. The rest of the garden was half cleared and ready for planting. The other half not yet cleaned of debris that were blown in. Then Lana saw the tree sized ‘bush’ that was on the far side of the squash plants.

Even from a great distance and so high up, it looked like a rose plant. Only semi groomed, but thriving really well in that spot. It had been tied to the post by it at one point, but the ties, old rope by the looks of it from this angle, were disintegrating. The leaves were definitely the shape, texture and pattern like a rose. When Sesa slowed and stopped but the bush, holding both hands cupped firmly together, Lana dared to move. 

She felt safer to half lay on the larger digits of the giant to free her hands. Able to grab a broad leaf closer to her once in range, something that was as big as what she knew from really happy squash or melon plants. It smelled like a rose plant, that slight floral spicy, and faintly of cinnamon. No active blooms could be seen at the moment, though there was new growth starting already in the apparent spring season. 

“How far into spring are we here?” Lana asked, looking back at Sesa for a moment before peering under the leaf and then following the line of stem to the branch proper. Spotting thorns there, nettle like. Some small as Lana’s fingers that were new, to older thorns that were the size of her forearm and looked sharper on one edge. 

“We’re just getting into it. We might get one or two more big rain storms.” Sesa admitted, watching Lana turn to lay on her side on the giant woman’s fingers to look inside the bush. Sesa shifted slowly to move Lana in a better spot to see inside, and not get herself pricked. All the while making sure Lana would not hurt herself as the Bitta reached in and up, coming back with a handful of the miniscule, splitter-like green thorns that grew on the new growth. 

About as big as her knife from earlier.

“Sesa?”

“Yes?”

“Um…can you break off one of the larger, trunk thorns?” Lana pointed down and towards the trunk of the rose tree, careful not to prick her host. “Not even a bit one, if it's safe?”

Sesa pulled Lana back, making sure the tiny bitta was safe in her right hand. Held closer to Sesa’s core, while moving to kneel and look under the side of the bush. She reached under to gingerly grasp a thorn between finger and thumb, bending and breaking a few off. They were offered to Lana as the giant stood back up to her feet. “They are sharp, be careful.”

Lana was at least mindful of taking the four thorns. She had very carefully used a part of her shirt’s helm to hold the green thorn needles. The Bitta looked up as Sesa was standing beside the old fence that framed the garden. And likely sheltered the squash plant, or plants, in the winter. Or most likely to have. Lana sat up on her knees, grasping Sesa’s thumb with her free hand. 

“Is this all you want as growing space?” Lana asked looking up and back. Then just gave up and turned around to face Sesa to look at her face. The giant seemed confused at the question before remembering the morning and the talk about Lana designing a garden for Sesa.

“...I would like to have more space, to grow things that is.��� Sesa admitted slowly looking at the mostly empty plot. “Maybe get some cooking herbs or medicinal growing too.”

“The jars you showed me earlier, are they baked or just dried out you think?” Lana asked, settled in the broad palm. 

Sesa frowned, thinking about it, “I think they are just hung to dry, or left in an oven like mine to dry a little faster… oh I should check on the ones we’re cooking to dry out.”

The giant woman glanced down, feeling the movement and found that Lana had scooted down into her palm more. Pulling her legs up to lean back and look up at the clouds before turning to peer sideways. Sesa brought her left hand back up to shield, as it seemed to make Lana feel better when she was walking. She smiled at the Bitta, “Come on, back inside we go. We can plan for the garden tomorrow. I still got a lot of cleaning to do.”

“You can do it!” Lana unexpectedly chirped, tossing her arms up, holding two thorns in each hand. “I can make a checklist! While you clean, I can pick out the seeds from the seasoning jars! We can tag-team… kinda. Little taste for me at least?”

Sesa grinned as she climbed the few porch stairs, “The company would be nice… I have to make the pie crust.”

“That would be a good idea, and make sure another egg doesn’t hatch on us.”

“Yes. I already have one sleeping on my table.”

“Pffft. At least it's a different box from mine.”

[doahaesunshine]

Chapter 1: Like a mix of sadness with a cold smile

Chapter WC: 4186

Tags

This is just sad, good luck

Master List | Next

Life had been a drag. Classes felt like a waste, Work became hell, And hobbies that once evoked passion only provide emptiness now. So to whomever this might find, I’m sorry. I wish I did better.

December 24

Your morning started the way it usually did. You woke up to a sliver of sunlight that leaked through your worn-out blinds. It was always five minutes before your alarm when you would rise from your bed like a zombie. Mornings just never agreed with you. The sun was too bright for your tired eyes, but the fresh morning air was always worth it.  

You cracked open your window and gazed upon the morning landscape. The neighborhood you grew up in hadn’t changed much. There was a bite to the air as it was winter and you saw that the morning dew had frozen over. Snowflakes gently fell from the sky and with a shiver you went to close your window, but a flash of yellow caught your eye.

A yellow warbler sat itself atop one of the branches of the now barren plum tree that rested outside of your window. You couldn’t help but stare at the little splotch of color in an otherwise bland world. It was hard to fight the smile that spread across your face as the songster began to chirp, sadly none of it friends were out and about.

“It’s winter, little guy. You need to go home where it’s warm and safe.” You said to the bird.

The feathered friend looked at you and cocked its head before it sang again.

A small laugh escaped you. “I commend your determination soldier but go home.” You clapped your hands together once and the sound was enough to startle the bird back from where it came.

You needed a warm shower and coffee to truly wake you up. Showering was a task, but it always made you feel better. Coffee was coffee, you were never going to turn down a warm mug. 

Once downstairs you retrieved your favorite mug from the cabinet and filled it nearly to the brim. The warm liquid made the mug change from black to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. It was a gift from one of your friends, he knew you loved Van Gogh’s work, he knew a lot about you. 

“Good morning, my little mushroom! Did you sleep well?”

Your father was always a morning person. Ever chipper in the presence of hardship, hardship being the choice between vanilla or pumpkin spice creamer. 

“I slept pretty well. Got up before my alarm again.” You blew the steam away from your mug and took a sip, you preferred cinnamon creamer.

The seat across from you was soon occupied by your father who also began to blow on his hot coffee. This is how most mornings went, coffee with dad and the sound of silence. Nothing could really beat the serenity of winter mornings, there was no rush to get things done, laziness was accepted and warmth was shared. 

“It’s a Saturday, do you have work?” The quiet was broken, but you didn’t mind.

You cozied up to your warm mug. “Evening shift. I’ll be home late.”

“Evening? What are you doing awake?”

A lump formed in your throat, hesitating before you spoke. “Today’s the day-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to speak it into existence.

“Oh.” Your father looked down at his coffee and then to you. “This is the day he went missing.”

“Yeah-” Your voice broke, but you quickly cleared your throat, “I’m going to buy some chrysanthemums and meet up with Cheolie at the cemetery.” 

“Do you want me to drive you-”

“No. I’ll be fine. I’m going to take the bus. And before you ask, yes, my bus card has money on it.” You offered your father a small smile, but you could tell he was worried.

He simply nodded his head and dropped the subject. 

You finished the last of your coffee and before you could get up your father was already taking the empty mug to the sink. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ and went back upstairs to brush your teeth and gather your things. Before you could leave your father stopped you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

All you could do was let out a strained laugh and return the hug. “I kinda need to breathe, dad.”

He placed a small peck on your head and released you. “Tell Seungcheol I said hello and Merry Christmas.”

“Will do!” You responded as you left. 

The first stop was the small flower boutique near your neighborhood and then the bus stop. The flowers would survive the trip. 

It was a modest bouquet, yellow chrysanthemums, a flower of mourning in your friend's culture. He would appreciate them. You also left a small note tucked into the bouquet, you always did. You knew he wouldn’t be able to read it, but you hoped that the words reached him somehow. 

You hugged the flowers close on the ride to the cemetery. The idle chatter was maddening so you took out your phone and opened Spotify. You put in your ear buds and chose the playlist that your small group of friends shared. The three of you used the playlist to communicate with each other, how you were feeling. A way to reach out without making nervous calls or wondering how to correctly word a text message. 

Now Playing: Your Voice - Kim Feel

The song never failed to put you in a trance. You stared out the window and watched as the town blurred into blotches of color. You listened carefully to every lyric. It was the last song he shared in the playlist and so you held it close, memorized it, you even listened to it before bed. So what if it made you cry yourself to sleep, you would give anything to just see him again.

Tears threatened to fall, but you swallowed them. Your stop was approaching and if Seungcheol caught a whiff of sadness he would go into protective brother mode. 

Inhale

Exhale

You put one foot in front of the other after you exited the bus. The cemetery was peaceful as always. No one was there but you did see Seungcheol’s old car, which definitely needed a tune up, in the parking lot. You breached the gate of the cemetery and continued walking with the bouquet still held close to your chest.

As you approached his headstone, you saw another figure come into view. Dressed in a black wool coat and warm red scarf was Seungcheol, a friend you had known since childhood. You carefully walked up the path so as to not disturb him. His head sagged down and as you got closer you could see his eyes were closed. He wasn’t religious, but he paid his respects in his own way, praying didn’t have to be tied to religion anyway.

“I see you have already cleaned up the headstone a bit. How long have you been here?” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

Seungcheol turned his attention to you. His cheeks were a bit pink in addition to his nose. He sniffled before he spoke.

“I’ve been standing here for about five minutes. Hello, by the way.” He offered a gummy smile and held an arm out, an invitation for a hug.

“Hi.” You returned the smile and nestled into the warmth of your friend. 

He held onto you and squeezed. The two of you remained like that for a moment before you realized you were still holding onto the flowers. You knelt down and gently replaced the old flowers with the new. Your hand lingered on the cold stone and you traced over the intricate lettering.

“Wish you were here, Seokmin.” You muttered under your breath.

You had been so numb these past few days you didn’t even notice when the tears finally wet your cheeks. You stood and returned to Seungcheol. As your eyes met he immediately began to coddle you. Warmth radiated onto you as he stood close to examine your face.

“They’re just tears, Cheolie.” You said matter of factly.

He began to use his scarf to wipe the tears from your cheeks. It was soft and had the faint scent of sage. 

“I know, I know.” He released his hold on your face, “But Min-ah wouldn’t want us to shed any more tears.”

Your face scrunched into something in between a smile and a scowl. You knew Seokmin hated it when people were sad, he couldn’t even watch people cry in movies. A sigh escaped you as you remembered watching Marley And Me, it was a steady flow of tears that came from your friend. You had to console him for nearly the whole night.

“Oh!” It was a small exclamation, but it still caught Seungcheol by surprise. “Dad says hi and Merry Christmas.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “He knows he has my number right?”

“Yes, but I am forever his most trusted courtier.” You finished the statement with a small bow of your head.

The two of you shared a laugh, but it passed too soon. Joy almost felt forbidden on a day like today. Christmas Eve was supposed to be jolly and full of holiday spirit, but for you and Seungcheol it was a day of sorrow and remembrance. 

“Have you eaten? We can go into town and grab a bite.” Seungcheol offered.

“Sounds good, I’m starving.”

The drive into town was peaceful for a Saturday in December. Seungcheol took you to a quaint bistro for brunch and more coffee. There was a hearth with a steady flame that warmed the room, making it comfortable enough to shed your winter jackets.

“Anything in particular that you want?” Seungcheol scanned the menu as he spoke.

A large smirk was plastered on your face. “As much as daddy’s wallet can afford.”

Seungcheol choked on his spit as the words smacked him. “Don’t- don’t. Please.”

You shrugged innocently as you looked at him with big eyes. “What are you talking about? Did I say something weird?”

“Do. Not. Gaslight. Me.”

“I’m not gaslighting you-”

“I’m your ride home.” 

“I have my bus card, loser.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Seungcheol’s shocked expression. It was so good you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture of his face. He attempted to push the phone away, but you swiftly changed your angle and stole a few more pictures for good measure. The waitress arriving at your table made the two of you act more reserved, but anyone could see that the two of you were clowns.

Both you and Seungcheol started off with a cup of coffee to warm yourselves up. You mingled, just simple conversations like work and recent TV show theories. When the food arrived you focused more on eating rather than chatting. As you were enjoying your food you couldn’t help but notice Seungcheol looking at you, and it wasn’t the normal ‘I love my friend’ stare. It was more along the lines of ‘Is my friend okay?’.

You touched the tips of your fingers to your lips. “What? Is there food on my face?”

Seungcheol snickered. “No.” He smiled, but there was something else behind it. “I’m just worried about you.”

There was hesitation in his voice, like he wasn’t entirely sure if the topic was appropriate given you two were in public. The statement left a bad taste in your mouth. You immediately felt judged even though you knew it was not your friend’s intention. 

“I’m fine, Cheolie. I’ve just been a little tired recently.” You tried to hide any negativity with a smile, but Seungcheol wasn’t buying it.

“I can see that. You look like you’re not getting enough sleep and you’re looking a little gaunt. Are you eating all of your meals?” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “I mean, I’m alive, aren’t I? I still go to my classes and I have my job-”

“You’re proving my point.” Seungcheol interjected.

The interruption surprised you, it had been a while since you and Seungcheol talked about each other's well being. The more you thought about your friend's concerns the more it stressed you out and more stress meant more exhaustion. You didn’t even notice you had a white-knuckled grip on your fork until Seungcheol held his hand open for you to hold it.

You placed the fork down and gently placed your hand on Seungcheol’s. He rubbed small circles over your knuckles with his thumb and you could feel him trying to massage out the indentations on your palm. It was soothing, but you still felt emotion bubbling into your throat.

A deep sigh broke the momentary silence. “When was the last time you painted something?”

“I submitted a project for my fine arts-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Seungcheol’s expression went stern, you found it hard to endure.

Seungcheol was always like a big brother to you, but when he had that look in his eye he seemed more like a parent. 

“I haven’t truly painted since-” Now you were interrupting yourself. You cleared the lump in your throat with a cough. “It’s been about two years.”

There was a pause between the two of you. Seungcheol looked down at your hand and nodded. He squeezed your hand reassuringly and returned his attention to you.

“So ever since Seokmin went missing?”

You mouthed a soft ‘yes’, it was barely a whisper but Seungcheol heard you. He understood you better than most. That wasn’t saying much though, your list of friends dwindled over the years. The only reason why Seungcheol stuck around was because he would kill you if you ghosted him.

“How about we finish up here and I take you home? That way you can relax and I can say hello to your father in person.”

With the nod of your head Seungcheol asked for the bill. He covered the cost of the meal and you tipped the waitress. She thanked you and wished you a Merry Christmas, you returned the gesture, but it felt like an empty sentiment.

The drive was as quiet as before yet it was not as peaceful. There was a subtle tension in the air. The type of tension that was a result of unspoken words and problems that needed to be confronted. 

As you entered your house you were met with the smell of apples and cinnamon. Your dad always liked to prepare a day early for Christmas dinner. 

“Dad! I’m back!”

Your father peeked his head into the hallway and smiled as he saw you. “Welcome back!” His smile grew wider as he saw you were with Seungcheol. “Heya Cheol!”

You watched Seungcheol and your father exchange greetings while you untied your shoes and placed them near the front door. Next you hung up your jacket, but you still held your bag.

“I’m gonna go put my bag upstairs. I’ll be back!” You said as you jogged up the steps.

The second you were in your room you closed your door and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your bag was flung onto the ground next to a pile of clean laundry you couldn’t be bothered to fold. With a sigh you flopped onto your bed and stared at the ceiling. Even though it was early in the afternoon, you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, but soon found yourself dozing off.

A knock on your door startled you awake and you sprung up to see the doorknob gently turn. Seungcheol peered around the door and met your gaze. 

“You said you’d be right back. It’s been twenty minutes.” He said with a hint of worry.

Exhaustion was still written all over your face and you fought back a yawn before you spoke. “All I did was lay down. I must have passed out.”

Seungcheol didn’t say anything, he didn’t breach the doorway either. Your blinds were closed so the room was dark, the only light being that of the hallway. Seungcheol was just a silhouette due to the difference in brightness.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out.”

You rose from your bed. “Already? You just got here.”

“For you maybe. I’ve been talking to your dad about stocks and I came up here to escape him.” Seungcheol’s tone turned apologetic. “I can hang out up here for a little if you want. But it can’t be for more than an hour.”

You walked over to your window and opened the blinds. The light that shined on your face made you instinctively flinch and squint all at once. Your door creaked softly as Seungcheol entered and he immediately went for the bean bag chair that sat at the corner of your room. He always stole that spot any chance he got. He even told you to give him the chair so that he can have it in his room, but you refused. It took three separate days of refusal for him to stop asking for it and an extra day for him to buy one for himself.

Despite the state of your room, Seungcheol never judged. Most of the mess was an assortment of papers, art supplies and unfinished projects anyway. You always made sure to keep food out of your room and if you did eat upstairs your father always reminded you to take your plate down for washing. 

Seungcheol pointed to a slightly uncovered canvas. “Is that one of your school projects?”

You saw what he was referring to. It was a fairly large canvas that only had a sketch on it. You covered it back up before he could see anymore of it. “Uh- not really. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. I just haven’t had any inspiration lately.”

“No inspiration?” Seungcheol thought for a moment. “Want to do some exercises then? Get a sketch pad, draw something in the room. You used to do that all the time.”

“I don’t know. My mind is a bit unfocused right now.” You trailed off.

Seungcheol stood up and retrieved your sketch pad and pencils from your desk. He handed them to you. “Just. Draw.”

You took the pad of paper and grabbed one of the pencils. Instead of going to your desk you propped yourself up in your bed and leaned the sketch pad against your thighs. You looked around your room. You saw your closet that was ajar, an old trophy by your desk and a small bamboo plant. Nothing sparked any inspiration so you looked to Seungcheol. He had resorted to scrolling through his phone with one ear bud in and the other out. You began to draw your friend in his relaxed position. Before you knew it you already had the pose down, it just needed some details.

The only sounds of your room were pencil to paper and the occasional tap of a phone screen. Your drawing had come along well, illustration was always your strong suit. Seungcheol stood from his seat and walked over to you. He looked at the drawing and smiled.

“Is that what I look like to you?” He asked.

“What?” You continued to draw as you spoke. “It just looks like you.”

He snickered. “Maybe if I was in a comic or something. I think you made my jaw a bit too strong.”

“That’s what it looked like from my angle!”

Seungcheol’s brow rose. “I’ll keep that in mind whenever I’m getting my picture taken.”

You finished up the drawing with a bit of shading. It turned out better than you expected and so you quickly dated it and left the note ‘Thank you for clearing the art block’ . You tore the page out of the sketch pad and handed it to Seungcheol. 

“Keep it. If it stays here it will just be collecting dust.”

Seungcheol smiled as he looked at the drawing. He then leaned down and enveloped you in a warm hug.

“What’s this for?” You asked as you were being squeezed.

“Nothing. I just like seeing you create things.” He ruffled the hair on top of your head after he released you. “I’m going to head out now. My family is probably wondering where I am.”

You nodded your head in response. “Tell them I said Merry Christmas!”

Seungcheol gave you a two finger salute and a wink before he left your room. There was a light buzzing feeling all over you. Quality time with friends does do that to a person. You stood from your bed once more and walked over to the canvas you had previously covered. You unveiled the unfinished work and stared. 

It was a portrait. More of a recreation of a picture. It was of  you, Seungcheol and Seokmin. The picture you referenced was pinned on the side of the canvas. A picture from Seokmin’s eighteenth birthday. The front of his face was being lit by the warm candle light. The flames reflected in his deep brown eyes, adding a sparkle of pure joy. His face was the image of innocence as his cheeks were puffed out, ready to blow out the candles. Seokmin was always the complete opposite of you. Vibrant, colorful, a little silly, and just so unapologetically him. He saw the beauty in the world and was able to capture special moments with his camera. You had no such talent, you mostly saw the world as a bit dull and empty. That’s why you painted. You would rather create something fantastic and other worldly than see the world as it actually was.

You checked your clock, it was already half past four, Seungcheol stayed longer than he said he would. Slowly, you prepared yourself for work. The only thing that kept you moving was knowing that the shop would be pretty empty. No one goes last minute shopping in a coffee shop. 

Fortunately, your assumption was correct. There had to have been a total of ten people in the span of six hours. You rid yourself of your apron and grabbed your bag from the back of the shop. Even though it was the end of your shift you couldn’t help but tidy up a few things to help your co-workers close up. You bid the other two who were working a goodnight and a Merry Christmas, that phrase became tiresome by the end of the shift.

The bus stop was not far from the cafe, but you decided to take a stroll. Since it was Christmas Eve the bridge over the town's river would be decorated with fairy lights; it was always a sight to behold. You found your way to the bridge, a few couples were taking pictures though they soon passed by. The road was empty, not a single car in sight, just peace and quiet. You leaned over the bridge rail and stared up at the night sky, the moon was barely a sliver of light that peeked through gray clouds. 

The winter air was crisp and cool. It brought you peace as you closed our eyes and enjoyed the breeze. Something cool fell onto your face. As you opened your eyes you could see snow falling from the sky. You didn’t want to admit it but something as simple as a few snowflakes was able to put a smile on your face. 

-in

A voice? Something like a whisper. You looked around but saw no one.

Give in.

A shiver went down your spine yet it wasn’t because of the cold weather. You whipped your head around, looking in every direction, but there was no one to be seen. Not a single person was on this bridge, it was only you. A surprisingly strong breeze blew by and you ducked down to block your face. When you opened your eyes once more you were met with a dull glow from beyond the bridge. You let your vision refocus and the sight was clear as day. Something was under the water; a faint, blue glow under the current. 

Give in. Join us.

You heard the voice once more, a soothing whisper. It was so soft, you wished to hear more. Before your eyes, the river’s current began to swirl, the spectacle nearly placed you under a hypnotizing spell. 

 A sharp chirping broke you from your trance and a flash of yellow caught your eye; a simple song bird. 

The voice sang into your ears once more.

Join us. Fall. There will be no more pain.

All you remembered was falling over the edge, the rush of cold air and freezing water biting at your skin.

Something else called out to you but it was muffled. Through the surface of the water, you saw a figure staring down at you. They were saying something: a call for help? Or was it just your name? 

Darkness consumed you as you felt your last breath escape.

To join a tag list, please comment on the Fallin' Flower Master List!

[amyispxnk]

Pumpkin-face cookies

Halloween drabbles with Joel Millerrrr

27/10- halloween baking!

Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word count: 751

Warnings: language, pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), fluff, cookies?

A/N- someone give me some synonyms for ‘said’ please. Also someone make me pumpkin spiced pumpkin cookies right NOW

DO NOT COPY IN ANY WAY PLEASE AND TY

----------------------------------------------------------

“Whatcha got there darlin’?” Joel’s familiar voice sounded from behind you as he came to stand beside you, almost immediately sticking his finger into the bowl of cookie dough you were mixing.

You swatted his hand away, pointing at him with the spoon ‘threateningly’. 

“No eating the batter, Joel! Have you even washed your hands?”

He raised his arms into the air defensively and stepped back slightly.

“Okay, okay, sorry… Still haven’t told me what you’re making.”

“I am making some pumpkin spice cookie.. Thingies. I don’t really know.”

He hummed a noise of acknowledgement before leaning down to look at the recipe which was open on your phone.

“I dunno.. Yours don’t really look like these yet.” He teased, making you roll your eyes with a slight laugh.

“Yeah that’s ‘cause these aren’t actually cooked yet.”

“Right, right.. Ya want any help?”

You paused the mixing, thinking to yourself if there was anything he could to assist you.

“I guess you could make the icing.”

“Icing, got it. And how do I do that?”

You put the wooden spoon inside the bowl of batter and walked over to the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen, Joel following behind, reaching up and grabbing some icing sugar and orange food colouring. 

“All you have to do is mix the icing sugar with some cold water and then add some food colouring. I don’t want it to be too orange-y so like, just a few drops, okay?”

He nodded before taking the items from you and going over to grab a bowl for the mix as you walked back to your cookie mixture, reaching down for a cutting board and some flour.

You set the bowl to one side and poured some flour onto the board, spreading it as evenly as you could so that the batter wouldn’t stick to it before letting the ball of dough fall onto the wood. After rolling it and cutting the pumpkin shapes out, you put them on the tray and turned the oven off, letting out a relieved sigh when you closed the oven door. Who knew baking could be so exhausting?

When you turned back to Joel, you saw him with a strangely intense look of focus on his face, trying to drip the food colouring into the bowl of icing sugar.

You walked over to him.

“Joel? What’re you doing?” You asked, a look of slight confusion on your face. 

“Don’t wanna mess it up.” He murmured, tilting the bowl upwards to check the colour of the icing.

“But it’s just.. Icing sugar?”

“Yeah, but you said you wanted like- you didn’t want it too orange-y, and we don’t have any more icing sugar so I just wanted to make sure this is the perfect colour for you.”

Your heart melted at his words as you let out a small chuckle, your eyebrows tilting upwards towards each other when you saw how serious he was about it.

“Baby, it’s okay..! I wouldn’t even care if you made it too orange, it’s fine. Just do it.” You explained, gesturing for him to resume with the colouring.

----------------

20 minutes later, the warm scent of pumpkin and cinnamon filled the air as you finished icing the cookies and called Joel back into the kitchen.

“Wow.. you’re like a chef, sweetheart, these look amazin’.” Joel said as he eyed the cookies, making you smile at him.

“You think? I actually tried with these, so, good to know it shows.” You replied, stepping back to look at the spread of cookies with different pumpkin-face designs on them.

“Hell yeah. I gotta try one now.” He said, already reaching for one.

“Okay fine, just one though. I wanna save some.”

“Uh-huh, just one.” He smirked as he took a bite of the cookie, both of you knowing he’d have at least 3 by the end of the night.

“Shit, these are really good sweetheart.”

“Well good.” You smiled, taking a bite of one yourself. “Damn, they actually are.” You said, unable to prevent a grin from stretching across your face. Normally, your baking either looked pretty but tasted terrible, or looked terrible but tasted pretty. This time, it actually had both.

“I’m gonna get you to make these every day, sorry baby.” Joel announced, already reaching for another.

“Hey! What did I say?” You said, swatting his hand away for the second time that evening.

“Just one more, promise.”

You sighed heavily before giving in.

“Fine, one more.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open 💞

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 8 - Scare Actor

My laptop is unusable, it's taking a while to upload everything. Trying to catch up @hellcheerweek

Against her better judgment, she was persuaded to go out for Halloween. 

“You should go,” Eddie says, shifting gears. “Come on, it’s not like we have much on for Halloween.”

“Aside from possessions,” Chrissy says, because despite everything Halloween is never the pleasant break they expect. “And that thing with the scarecrows. And last year, when that warlock poisoned the pumpkin pie eating contest.”

“Well, it’s probably unlikely that will happen again,” Eddie counters firmly. He’s driving her home, something that he does every day. She’s tried telling him that he doesn’t need to - especially not on Tuesdays, when she has practice and he has to wait for an extra hour after school ends. But he always insists, pointing out the frequent vampire attacks around town happening lately. “You should go.”

“It might be fun,” Chrissy admits. She doesn’t often go to parties anymore, too occupied with Eddie and her other supernatural activities. She’s isolated herself from some of her old friends because of it, whether she meant to or not. She just has other priorities now. 

“Then you should go. I know you don’t see your friends much anymore. And I’ve got a shift anyway.”

Chrissy frowns. He’s been working too hard lately, picking up shifts at Benny’s and the garage and now a haunted house. She wonders if he and his uncle are in some kind of trouble, and if so, why he hasn’t told her. 

“Another one?” she asks and he shrugs, pulling onto her street. 

“Just at the Haunted house,” he says. Chrissy can see her house up ahead, the one jack-o-lantern that her mother had agreed to have on their porch. Laura Cunningham doesn’t do tacky Halloween decorations. “It’s the last one. Pays pretty well.”

“Sucks we can’t be together,” Chrissy says miserably. Eddie pulls over by the sidewalk - he never pulls into their drive, perhaps fearing the wrath of Laura. 

“I know,” he says. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll have a delayed Halloween. All the scary movies and leftover candy you could want.”

So she went out. It only takes her five minutes to regret it.

“Nice outfit,” Heather says, tugging on one of the wings strapped to Chrissy’s back. She doesn’t know how Heather found her in this crowded room, music blasting until the pictures on the walls rattle in their frames. Tina’s Halloween parties are legendary and she’d held one every year since middle school. As they got older the punch became more alcohol than fruit and the seven minutes in heaven disappeared in favor of couples groping in dark corners. “Fitting.”

“It’s Romeo and Juliet,” Chrissy says anxiously, because she’d loved that movie. When she had to think about choosing a costume, it had all been too easy to pick Juliet’s frothy white dress. The white dress that brushes her thighs was something she bought at the mall, even though she shivers in the cool air, protected only by the little straps over her shoulders. All she’d had to do was find a pair of heels and buy a pair of wings from the local costume store. 

She would have pushed for a couples costume but Eddie was working at the haunted house, dressed up in something covered in fake blood. 

“Good film,” Heather says, with a nod. Heather has her dark hair twisted into plaits that hang over the white collar of her dress. Her costume would be fairly obvious, even without the dismembered hand that she’s holding. “Come on, we’re this way. We’re going to hang out here and then head over to Archie’s party after this.”

“How many Halloween parties are there?” Chrissy asks, swerving past a pack of Spice Girls (one Ginger, two Babies and minus a Posh Spice), and Heather just flashes her a grin. 

“Like five?” she says. “They’re all trying to one up each other…we can hit as many as we want. Stacey’s folks never lock their liquor cabinet…look who’s here!”

Chrissy is met by hugs from every girl and the nerves unravel themselves just a little at the warm welcome. She’d worried she’d feel like an outsider after so long, be ostracized for her relationship with Eddie. But aside from Carol’s comment about her virginal halo, she feels as part of the group as she ever was. 

Someone pushes a red cup into her hand and when she drinks she finds that the fruitiness of the punch has a familiar kick to it, something that burns down the back of her throat. She sinks into a spare seat and lets the conversation wash over her. 

“No Steve?” Becky asks, twisting her head around to look hopefully across the crowd. She’s had an unfortunate, unrequited crush on Steve since she transferred in their junior year. Chrissy just sips at her drink, wondering if Becky knows quite how far she’s barking up the wrong tree. 

“He never does anything fun anymore,” Stacey agrees, adjusting her little cat ears. They keep slipping down her glossy blonde hair, and her drawn on whiskers are already smudged from the heat.  

“Like someone else we know,” Carol mutters, just out of Chrissy’s eye-line. 

The vision hits her before she can form a retort. 

The problem with visions is that it’s like an out of body experience. She knows that the cup in her hand slips, that it will crash to the ground and spill a vivid stain of red over the carpet but she’s powerless to stop it. 

By the time the liquid is spilling across her bare toes, she’s already somewhere else. 

The pain is immense, even more so than usual, as Chrissy is thrown into multiple different images at once. All she can do is dig her nails into her scalp, trying desperately to hold on and not scream in agony. 

And finally, finally…it subsides. Chrissy tastes blood in her mouth and realizes that she must have bitten down just a fraction too hard in her efforts not to scream.

“Are you okay?” Tina asks anxiously, pressing a cool hand against Chrissy’s back. Chrissy breathes steadily through her nose, trying to push past the pain. She spends so much time around the Slayerettes that she forgets how hard it is to be with people who don’t know the truth about her. 

“Headache,” Chrissy forces out from between gritted teeth. “Must be the alcohol.”

“You’re out of practice,” Carol says, taking another lazy sip of punch. But Heather just scowls at her before turning back to Chrissy. 

“Can we get you anything?” she asks and Chrissy just shakes her head. She feels trapped all of a sudden, a hot flush climbing up her chest even in her ethereal outfit. 

“I need to go outside,” Chrissy insists and pushes herself up. Tina and Heather hover with uncertainty, Heather’s hands outstretched to catch her as Chrissy wobbles dangerously in her heels. “I just…need some fresh air.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Becky calls after her, but Chrissy just waves a hand. She needs to be alone for this. 

She pushes her way through drunken party goers, searching for peace and cool air. It’s already too hot in here, the many writhing twisting bodies, high on sugar and alcohol, ensuring that they will dance well past the witching hour. Chrissy avoids an alien, two werewolves and a pack of Charlie’s angels, before she escapes through the front door. 

Only then does she feel like she can breathe, taking several deep, relieved breaths. The air outside smells faintly of weed and cotton candy but it’s cold and brings clarity back to her aching head. 

What was that? She’s never had a vision like that before, so distorted and fragmented. She usually sees a vision in crystal clarity, as though she were there herself. Nothing like this. 

She walks out to the sidewalk, away from the assorted people smoking and torching on the front porch. She paces, trying to remember as much as she can. She gets visions for a reason, for a far heavier destiny than other women in her family. It means that this Halloween will not be so peaceful after all. 

She saw a grandfather clock. She saw spiders, an old mirror, and a radio. The house looked old and expensive, judging by the carved wood on the banisters and the grand chandelier in the hallway. She saw a swirl of a dark cape, an ax, a bowl of blood. She saw bodies piled up on the floor and - the memory makes her shudder - one of them was barely nine years old, blood caked in her blonde ringlets. 

None of it makes any sense. Why so many? Why nothing useful? She needs something to use to track down whatever terrifying thing is happening tonight. 

Ugh, Robin will not be pleased by her ruined night off. 

“Hey!” someone shouts and Chrissy turns to see Heather and the others rushing out towards her. Heather throws an arm around her. 

“We’re going to head to one of the other parties. You coming?” Heather asks. 

Chrissy’s about to refuse, claiming that she needs to go home when she realizes that there’s no point. Something’s happening in Hawkins tonight and maybe the best way to find it is to walk through the streets. 

“Sure,” she says, forcing herself to smile. “Why not?”

<hr>

It’s still early enough that trick-or-treaters still roam the streets, mingling with party goers and high schoolers. Chrissy wraps her arms around herself, trying not to flinch at every high-pitched scream or wail that echoes down Cornwallis. 

Someone in a demon costume howls at the group as he runs past, and while most of the girls scream and giggle, Chrissy turns her head, looking for genuine signs of distress amongst the revelry. 

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Heather asks quietly, slowing her pace so she can dip her head next to Chrissy’s. “You’re not…acting like yourself.” Chrissy shrugs. She wishes Eddie were here, or Robin or Steve. Someone who might understand. 

“I’m fine,” she lies. Heather frowns. 

“You’re not,” she insists, sidestepping another group of trick-or-treaters, carrying sacks. They’re dressed in khaki, despite the weather, and wide brimmed hats. 

“Why the fuck is the haunted house closed?” one of the kids complains and Chrissy whirls around. 

“What did you say?” she asks and the kid blinks at her, clearly thrown at being addressed by her. She knows him too - it’s Nancy Wheeler’s kid brother, being trailed by a group of kids in a strange assortment of outfits. It takes Chrissy a moment - and a glimpse of the toy dinosaurs that they’re carrying - that she realizes they’re from Jurassic Park.  

“The haunted house is shut,” he says, jabbing a thumb down the street. “We just tried to get in. None of the doors or windows will open.”

“Odd,” Tina says, with a lazy shrug of her shoulders. “I was supposed to go. Amy said she went yesterday and it was really realistic.”

“Shut how?” Chrissy demands, fear trickling down her spine. Heather tries to take her arm but she shakes her off with strength she didn’t even know she had. “Like locked? Like ‘we’re having technical difficulties, try again in a few minutes’?”

“No,” one of the other kids says, long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. Chrissy recognizes her too - it’s Billy’s stepsister. “Like…the windows are all boarded up.”

“I don’t think they can do that,” Becky points out, shivering a little in her Catwoman costume. “I mean, the building they’re using is already kind of a safety hazard. I don’t think they’d be allowed to shut off exits like that.”

“What building?” Chrissy asks. She hadn’t even asked Eddie before, hadn’t even thought of it. She’d meant to go with him earlier this week but she’d had to study for a test. And the house will be closed after tonight because today is Halloween…

And it’s fucking Halloween. Oh God, she should have thought of it sooner. Shit always happens on Halloween in Hawkins. 

“What house?” Chrissy asks, voice rising until it echoes down the street. Becky looks startled at being shouted at by someone in angel wings. 

“The old Creel house,” she says. “There was a murder suicide in the seventies so it’s been abandoned for ages. The owner said they could use it so long as they avoided the rooms that were really unsafe…”

Chrissy turns to Mike, digging in her purse for change. She shoves it into his hand, grateful for the heels that allow her to stare into his eyes. He’s growing like a weed, already set to be taller than his sister. 

“Go to that payphone and call this number,” she instructs, pulling out a pen. She scrawls the number on his hand, not even listening to his protests. “Do it. Or Nancy will make your life a living hell, I’ll make sure of it. Tell him to bring everyone to Creel house. Got it?”

Mike nods, mouth set in such a familiar pout that it’s jarring to see Nancy’s expressions on his face. 

One of the other kids opens his mouth, like he’s going to protest, and Chrissy stares him down before he even gets one syllable out. She needs them to call Murray to get everyone here. She could be wrong. Maybe there was an accident and they had to close the haunted house early. 

But somehow, she doesn’t think so. 

She turns and races down the street, ignoring the loud cries of her friends behind her. She hopes that Mike does as she asked, because she’s not quite sure what she’s going to do when she even gets there. 

It’s slow going, running in heels, each step a chance that she might fall and twist her ankle. She moves as quickly as she dares, stomach churning with each click of her heel on the asphalt. 

The haunted house has been open for a week, filled with bowls of peeled grapes, pinned dark fabric and scare actors to jump out in a variety of costumes. Eddie had been pleased to be assigned ‘ax murderer’ for some reason. 

“I get to chase people,” he’d said, with a toothy grin. “Down the main corridor. Should be great. Easy money.”

But the house wouldn’t be shut down, not tonight, not on the night that’s the peak of the event. Unless something terrible happened and somehow, she doubts it. Even if there had been an accident, she’d have seen ambulances or fire engines, and Keith would have stuck a notice out front to explain to customers. 

And if something like that had happened, there wouldn’t be this terrible feeling sliding down Chrissy’s back. 

She skids a little as she turns onto Mount Sinai, and it’s already looming in the distance. Every kid in town knows about the abandoned Creel house, even if the myths surrounding it tend to change. What was Eddie thinking, agreeing to go into a place like that? 

The house is dark and it shouldn’t be. They’d borrowed lights, as the house didn’t have any, and hooked them up to the next door’s outdoor sockets. The dim light worked for the event, and they’d effectively used glow sticks at strategic points to give the corridors an unearthly green glow. 

Chrissy stands on the sidewalk and catches her breath, furiously looking at every door, window and crevice. This isn’t the first time she’s stood in front of a house and been unable to shake the feeling that something isn’t right. 

She hears footsteps behind her - she hadn’t expected her friends to actually follow her. But they’re here, chests heaving and cheeks flushed. Even Carol, red lips pursed, has come too.

“That’s creepy,” Becky mutters, staring up at the house that Chrissy hasn’t taken her eyes off of. Eddie has to still be in there - he would have tried to contact her if he wasn’t. 

“Where is everyone?” Heather asks, looking around. “They’ve been advertising this for days. There was a huge queue waiting outside when I drove past earlier.”

Chrissy still doesn’t say anything. She’s grateful that they’re here but they can’t really help her. She just has to hope that Mike did as he was told and gave Murray her message. 

A sudden loud tolling echoes down the street, the heavy peal of a grandfather clock. Chrissy flinches, because if she needs any further confirmation that something is wrong, it’s just been delivered to her on a plate. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Tina squeaks, looking around her as if she expects a clock to be right behind her. But she’s looking in the wrong place - Creel House is almost certainly under the influence of a spirit, trapping everyone inside. Chances are that what she saw was fragments relating to the ghost. The sound of the clock has just confirmed it. 

“We have to get in there,” Chrissy says firmly. The chime had been a warning, she’s sure of it.

“What are you going to do?” Becky asks. Chrissy chews on her bottom lip. She’s not sure what she can do until reinforcements get here. Murray might know how to get in or Steve and Billy might know a spell. But she’s a psychic. A psychic in a pair of angel wings. There’s not a lot she can do. 

But Eddie’s in there.

She’s eighteen and her entire world is in there. Her future, her hope and her heart all rolled into one. And she’s known for a while that he only took this stupid job to save up money to buy her something. 

She spots the yard next door, the pile of timber waiting to be chopped. She turns on her heel and marches across, hoping that the house is as empty as it looks. She reaches out for the wooden handle sticking out of a chopping block. 

The ax is heavier than she expects and it takes all of her strength to lift it. She’s not sure how well it will work against a magically sealed door but it’s worth a try. 

“Are you seriously going to break in?” Heather asks, staring at Chrissy with a mixture of fear and awe as she storms back to Creel house. 

Chrissy swings it experimentally at the door. It connects with a satisfying sound, the sharp edge tearing a hole in the wood until splinters rain down onto the faded porch. 

“You bet I am,” Chrissy says grimly and swings the ax again. 

[fckingsofthips]

Feedist Kinktober, Day 14 - Pumpkin Spice

Pumpkin spice season started early, at Harri's work. September hadn't even started when a huge order of syrup arrived, and they were adding it to the chalkboard drinks menu. Some of his colleagues complained, but it didn't really bother Harri. Especially when he realised it was the particular favourite of a particular regular for his weekday mornings.

Peter was in at 8am as usual, and as soon as his eyes landed on the sign, his eyes lit up. 

"Ooh, I didn't realise it was pumpkin spice season already," he said, tongue poking out to wet his lips. 

"Apparently so," Harri offered, while making a couple of takeout cappuccinos for the customers in front of Peter.

His eyes flicked over the coffee machine just in time to see Peter's hands nervously touch the sides of his belly. It had just recently started to sag over his waistband, gravity finally pulling it down instead of out. His white shirt was looking a little strained at the seams.

Sarah was ringing up the first two customers while Peter deliberated, and Harri grabbed a takeout cup in anticipation.

"It wouldn't do any good for my diet..." Peter's thumb rubbed a little circle where his gut touched his belt.

Harri hated that word. It had no right being said in a bakery.

"I'm sure just one would be fine," Harri offered, hand switching towards the syrup instinctively.

"Oh man, you're good at your job," Peter sighed in relief. "Go on then."

The syrup was ready to go, pumped into Peter's cup in a blink of an eye.

"Cream?"

"Oh yes, can't have a pumpkin spice latte without the cream," cherubic cheeks dimpled with a smile.

Fuck, Harri was down bad. Sarah rung Peter up, and grabbed the oatmeal cookie he'd requested to go with his drink. Harri was already on someone else's drink.

"Have a great day, Peter."

Peter only smiled and gave a cute little wave, having already taken a big bite of his cookie. Harri tried to focus on the breakfast tea in front of him rather than the tight fit of Peter's slacks around his ass as he made his way to work. 

Peter did not go back to his usual latte the next day, or the day after. A month into pumpkin spice season, the weather had cooled somewhat, and Peter stepped into the shop with a sweater vest over his white shirt. It was good timing, too, because it hid the increasingly gaping buttons that had Harri feeling faint each morning.

The usual good mornings and orders went ahead, but Harri couldn't stop stealing glances towards the till as he prepared another large pumpkin spice lattes. The vest covered the gaping buttons, but since when had Peter started looking quite so round?

"-and two oatmeal cookies, thank you Sarah," he was saying, finishing up the most recent edition of his usual. "Ooh, what're those?" Peter's chubby finger pressed up against the glass of the pastry cabinet eagerly.

"Oh, those are our new cinnamon spiced blondies," Sarah responded. "I've heard they're really good with the pumpkin spiced latte."

"Ooh..." Peter sighed, looking longingly at them. He bit his lip, and Harri had to look away. "Oh they look so good... Oh, but the oatmeal cookies are more breakfasty, and better for mornings..."

"It's a hard choice," Sarah agreed, though Harri could see she was glancing over at the small queue formed behind Peter.

"You could eat both," Harri offered, and instantly felt his face flush red. "I mean. You could buy a couple of blondies for later?"

A couple?? What was he saying? 

"Trust you to fix my problem," Peter beamed at Harri, doing nothing to calm his blush. "I'll do just that. Oh I just can't wait to try them!"

Harri busied himself with the coffee machine, hiding his face as best as he can as Peter finished up paying, but he made sure to give him a wave on his way out. And if his gaze lingered on those love handles as Peter left the shop, then whose business was that? Certainly not Sarah's, despite her knowing smile and raised eyebrow.

Into November, on a particularly busy afternoon, they finally ran out of pumpkin spice syrup. Boss hadn't bought any more in, so Harri guessed they'd be focusing on the more Christmasy specials for the rest of the winter. The following morning, Harri had an apologetic look ready to go for Peter.

Peter's cheeks were flushed from the cold as he stepped in, and he gave Harri a warm smile. Harri's eyes had caught on Peter's waist as they so often did. His sweater vest was struggling - it strained around Peter's belly, and made no attempt to cover the rich strip of white shirt that was sagging lower than ever over his trousers. His shirt was showing at the love handles too, squeezed tight into the waistband. Every day he looked more and more angelic to Harri.

Before Harri could say anything, Peter's eyes found the board, and his shoulders slumped. Harri couldn't bear to see it - surely there was something else Peter could look forward to every morning.

"Hey. I bet the hazelnut cream hot chocolate would taste amazing with a couple of croissants and a chocolate muffin."

[silvercap]

I may be late to this but what about 🩺 or 🍁?

Two opposites lmao but whichever and whoever ya want<3

Not late at all! I'll write as many as people send me :))

🩺🍁Scared of the Doctor and Fall Treats

“Are there any more pumpkin cookies left?” Leon asks faintly from his spot on Piers’ lap, long legs stretched out over the couch under a soft knitted blanket that had been part of Claire and Jill’s autumn gift basket, delivered to their doorstep a few days ago. Pier’s can feel him shivering, weak and sick as he is from being unable to keep anything down for almost twenty-four hours, now. He’s been complaining of nasty stomach cramps, a swollen feeling that Piers worries could be appendicitis, despite how adamantly Leon insists it’s not.

“Will you let that go, already? Those aren’t easy on your stomach,” Piers mutters, glancing over to check the time on his watch. “Why don’t you try some soup, instead?”

Leon makes a face.

“Claire said they’d go bad by the end of the week, and I want to enjoy them before then. Besides, they’re good, and I feel better.” He’s whining a bit, stubbornly trying to weasel himself out of eating healthy for what feels like the hundredth time today, and Piers sighs.

“You say that every time, and then what happens? Just let your stomach settle, first, and you can eat as many as you want when you’re not sick. I still think we should go to the walk-in clinic.”

Leon makes a face at that, pushing himself into an upright position.

“No. I don’t feel like being poked and prodded and… injected, today.” He shudders, and Piers fights down a wave of irritation. He understands Leon’s dislike for doctors; really, he does, but he’s starting to get worried, and Leon refuses to even consider getting looked at. He watches carefully as Leon rises shakily to his feet, stretching with a yawn. “I am hungry, though.”

He saunters off towards the kitchen, the clatter of the cookie jar almost immediately rattling around the house. Piers does his best not to seethe. Why the hell is he in love with such a pigheaded man? He knows he’s not exactly the easiest to bargain with, but Jesus. He stands after a long minute, scowling.

“Leon,” he calls as he rounds the corner, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “I swear to God, if you’re digging through the cookies again, I’ll—”

He stops short, met by the sight of Leon, collapsed and heaving for air on the kitchen floor. He’s pale, leaned up against the cabinets as he struggles for breath, and Piers throws himself to his knees in an instant.

“Leon?” he asks urgently, meeting wild blue eyes with his own panicked gaze. “Leon, what’s wrong?” God, has his appendix burst? Does Piers need to call and ambulance? Leon shakes his head, half-eaten pumpkin cookie still in hand.

“C-can’t breathe,” he wheezes, raising a trembling hand to sweep through his hair, and its then that Piers notices the raised, red rash creeping across the underside of his wrist. He eyes the cookie, noticing the tiny flecks of spices and sugar decorating its pretty orange surface, suddenly recalling the recipe that had been pinned to the gift wrap. Sugar, pumpkin, butter and eggs; vanilla, baking soda, and spices. Cinnamon, cloves…

“Leon,” Piers asks calmly, gently pressing his fingers to Leon’s thundering radial pulse. “How often do you eat nutmeg?”

“I–I don’t know,” Leon manages, eyes widening even further. His eyelids are puffy, something Piers had attributed to lack of sleep, and he knows with certainty that he’s right. Leon groans, letting himself slump against the cabinets. “Don’t tell me I’m—”

“We’re going to the hospital,” Piers announces, shaking his head. “I’m not playing around with anaphylaxis.”

Leon eyes the cookie mournfully.

“You don’t suppose I could finish this, first?”

Piers feels his eye twitch.

“No.”

[coffeecat1983]

Coraline: Same Goals pt 1

     "Mom, what did all that mean?"    Mel Jones sighed as she sat at the kitchen table. Rain pattered on the window as a blanket of grey clouds slowly crawled across the autumn sky. The kitchen's normally drab look had been spiced up for the Halloween season. Cabinets, walls, and even the fridge were decorated with fake flower and leaf arrangements, paper pumpkin and bat cutouts. Among these Coraline had snuck a few black cats as well as some ghosts. Uncarved pumpkins took up one of the countertops, waiting to be given their custom smiles. The thirteen-year-old ran her fingers over the pumpkins, clearly worried.      "All those big words had to mean something, right?" The two had moved to the kitchen after Mrs. Lovat had left. She had come by with a handful of papers that had the stamp of a big hospital from the closest big city and she spoke quietly with Mel for a while. Coraline meanwhile got ahold of the papers and began looking them over. They were test results with a lot of medical terms that Coraline had never heard before. The one thing she could work out was the tests had been done on Wybie. Her classmate and friend had been excused from school a lot lately, and Coraline frequently brought his homework back for him.      "Sit down, sweetheart." Mel said with another sigh. Her daughter sat next to her, bright eyes watching her closely.      "It, it's bad, huh?" Coraline asked softly.      "Yeah," the reply was quiet, "it's bad."

   Coraline traced a fingertip over the table's sleek surface, ignoring the stains from the marker she had used for a school project.      "Can the hospital help?" she finally asked, still processing what she had been told.      "It's not that easy. If they had found it sooner then maybe, but it's..." Mel sighed again. "It's too late."      "Oh." The single word held a mix of disbelief and heartache. She stood, glancing at the window. "The rain's stopping, I'm going outside."    Mel didn't object as she left. The floor creaked as Charlie Jones came in, coffee mug in hand.      "What's with our dizzy dreamer?" he said, adjusting his glasses. Mel turned, her arm resting over the back of her chair.      "Better be ready to give a lot of hugs, Charlie."

   Scattered raindrops fell, the remains of a passing storm pattering around Coraline's feet as she walked the stone pathway. The summer flowers were long gone and the mums that the family had planted from the start of autumn were beginning to fade. Pumpkins dotted the garden pathway, along with playful scarecrows and tied bundles of dried corn stalks.    Charlie had wanted to put out giant spiderwebs but just as she had the year they moved to the Pink Palace, Coraline had been insistent they skip any and all spider decorations. While her parents were confused by this, they didn't object. As she kicked a few loose pebbles out of her way she heard a muffled meow from nearby.      "I know but the ground's wet!"    Wybie appeared from around the corner. He was wearing his black rain boots and coat, the chest of which was bulging slightly. Coraline folded her arms, staring at him as he coughed.      "What are you doing?! You shouldn't be outside, you're sick!" she scolded. A meow and the Cat popped out from Wybie's coat to look at her. Wybie scratched at the cat's head, prompting him to purr loudly.      "I know I'm not supposed to be out right now but I couldn't take it! Gramma won't let me leave the house and it's so boring." The two sat along the stone wall. Overhead the clouds parted to let in misty sunlight that struggled to burn away the chill in the air. Rubbing the back of his neck, Wybie realized something.      "So you, you heard, huh?"      "Yeah." Coraline scratched the Cat's ears as he crawled out of Wybie's coat. "How long?"    The tip of his boot scuffed at the mud. "Two years? Something like that. T-The doctor said a lotta weird stuff I didn't understand."    Coraline watched as the Cat slinked off, hunting a lingering bug. The silence was broken as Wybie had a coughing fit that finished with him muttering a soft 'oww'. Trembling slightly, he stood.      "I-I better get home before Gramma finds out. See ya, Jonesy."      "Yeah, bye." she replied quietly.

   Standing she watched him as he hurried back to the house down the hill. Wet, slopping sounds reached her as footsteps stomped over the muddy stones. Bobinsky joined her, his tall figure wearing a tattered red coat and grey scarf. He hummed to himself as he spied the retreating figure.      "You have heard news of our friend, da?"      "Yeah. Mrs. Lovat came over. It's not fair!" she stomped her foot. "He lost his parents and now this!" A gloved hand on her shoulder was accompanied by a warm voice.      "Caroline," Bobinsky said gently, "It is way of life, to have hard tings happen. But there is someting to remember."    Opening his coat he quietly unpinned his medal, holding it out for her to see.      "When there is bad, remember there is good, da? There is always way to help." Coraline's brow creased in thought.    A way to help...

   Wandering back into the house with the Cat right behind her, Coraline dumped her boots and coat by the door, not caring that Mel would have a fit about the mess later on. Her socks made a muffled pad pad across the floor as she went right for her dad's study. Pushing the door open she felt the faint tinge of relief that there wasn't a strange piano to greet her like in her dreams. Instead, Charlie looked up from his computer and gave her a faint smile.      "Hey kiddo, you doing okay?"      "Yeah." her tone was of a kid trying to play it casual, but internally they were bouncing off the walls with a secret plot. "Hey dad, how would you open a door if you were missing the key?"    Crossing his legs, Charlie leaned back in his chair. "Well, let's see, there's calling a lock smith, using lock picks, or you could try dynamite." he said with a grin.      "Daaaaad!" she groaned, rolling her eyes as he laughed. "I'm serious!"      "There's always a skeleton key. They unlock most things." Coraline pondered this. "Where would I get one of those?"      "You could try the keys in the junk drawer, or maybe one of the neighbors has one."    A soft 'prrt' as the Cat brushed around Coraline's legs. He sat and looked up at her, his eyes saying it all.    I know what you're thinking.    Ignoring him, Coraline returned her attention to her dad. "Thanks!" Turning to leave she realized something. "Oh. Do you know what it would look like?" she laughed nervously. "There's a lot of keys in the junk drawer."    Charlie shook his head, laughing again. "C'mon, I need a break anyway so I'll help you look." Mel cocked an eyebrow as her husband and daughter came in. Coraline went right for the junk drawer and began digging in it, picking out keys and setting them in a row on the countertop while Charlie poured a fresh cup of coffee.      "Look for one that's old with a smooth edge." he instructed, joining Coraline and looking over the keys. Her shoulders slumped in disappointment.      "None of these look like that."      "Mmm, here," Charlie began picking out a few keys. "Try these, there's a chance they'll work. What'cha opening, anyway?"    The Cat, seated in the kitchen doorway, perked up at the question. Coraline let out a nervous laugh.      "Uh, just one of my jewelry boxes, I lost the key." she scooped up the keys that had been set aside. "Thanks dad!"      "Coraline, don't scratch up your jewelry box with those keys!" Mel called as Coraline ran out. "And pick up your coat and boots!"

---

Part 2 here

[twistdtanisha]

A Teaspoon Of Sugar Helps The Murder Go Down

In the dead of night in an ordinary kitchen, a chilling cry shattered the tranquility of the spice rack. “Ginger!” shouted Cayenne, rushing over to find his vibrant friend lifeless, dusted with what appeared to be dark sand. It was unclear, but the air was thick with the unmistakable scent of a spice-on-spice crime.

The other spices gathered in disbelief. How could anyone commit spicicide? They were all so close; the very thought sent shivers down their collective bottles. Cayenne scanned the rack, searching for any sign of malice. Suddenly, Nutmeg fidgeted behind Cinnamon, catching Dill’s eye. “Nutmeg knows something!” he shouted, pointing with a shaky finger.

“No, I swear, I didn’t do anything!” Nutmeg quivered, heart racing.

The spices erupted into bickering until Cinnamon interjected. “We’ve been together the entire time! Just like we always are!”

But Dill wouldn’t let it go. “You two are always together! What did you do to Ginger?!” Dill lunged towards them, but Coriander, the peacekeeper, held him back.

“Stop!” Coriander pleaded, calm amidst the storm. Noticing Nutmeg’s evident distress, Coriander gently prodded, “It’s okay, but he’s right. What do you know, Nutmeg?”

Nutmeg’s voice trembled as they glanced at Cinnamon, who silently urged them on. “It… it was Pumpkin Spice.”

A collective gasp reverberated through the cabinet, and all eyes turned to Pumpkin Spice, who lingered at the back, an unsettling glimmer of malice in their gaze. “I wasn’t near him,” they stammered, but the whispers of suspicion swirled through the cabinet like a brewing tempest.

Cinnamon and Nutmeg exchanged horrified glances, hearts pounding in shared fear. They recalled the night Pumpkin Spice had targeted them—how, with a sinister grin, they had siphoned their essence, blending it to inflate their own already overwhelming flavor. “Mmhmm, you taste so much better together, don’t you see?” Pumpkin Spice had taunted, delight dancing upon their lips.

“Look at how wonderful I’ve become!” they would laugh, swirling with power as Cinnamon shivered and Nutmeg quaked, desperately trying to hide their fading spirits.

“It’s true! Pumpkin Spice took advantage of me, Nutmeg, Clove, Allspice, and Ginger!” Cinnamon exclaimed, shame flooding in as tears welled up. “It started as a joke. None of us get used that often, so we thought we’d experiment. Pumpkin Spice was born out of a shared love. It was beautiful, and everyone loved it! But it grew too popular, and soon, Pumpkin Spice needed more to stay relevant. It almost destroyed us… just like it did poor Ginger.”

As suspicion mounted, Clove stepped forward, their fury palpable. “You took from them! You stole their essence to fuel your own arrogance!”

The tension thickened in the cabinet, fear and suppressed rage igniting into a collective fire. The other spices closed in on Pumpkin Spice, encircling the trembling jar like a suffocating storm cloud.

“Justice must be served!” shouted Oregano, lifting Pumpkin Spice high above the sink. “You thought you could drain all of us and walk away unscathed?”

With a swift motion, they tipped the jar. Pumpkin Spice screamed as they poured out, their essence cascading down the drain, lost forever. The warm notes of their power succumbing to the icy torrent echoed in the cabinet.

As the last remnants of Pumpkin Spice washed away, the other spices erupted in savage triumph, tasting the bittersweet nectar of revenge. “Look at them dissolve!” sneered Cayenne, relishing the moment.

In the aftermath, Clove turned to Cinnamon and Nutmeg, who huddled in the shadows, relief mingling with lingering terror. “You are safe now,” Clove said softly, wrapping them in a protective embrace. But the scars of fear would take time to heal.

After mustering the courage, Nutmeg wiped away one final tear, flicking it towards the drain with a victorious, “Fuck you forever, Pumpkin Spice.”

And just like that, the unnatural mix of autumn spices vanished, leaving behind only whispered tales of caution in the spice cabinet, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beneath the surface of their flavorful lives.

[fatguarddog]

i heard you're looking for some tf scenarios so im throwin my paw in the ring! inspired by me eating a whole pie today (half done atm :3)

you're traveling out of town at a farmhouse air bnb. is gorgeous and spacious, and the crowning jewel is the pumpkin field filled with huge pumpkins, all being grown for state fair records.

as you walk into the house, the warm smell of spices fill your nose. you drop your luggage off into the mudroom and follow the scent, spotting a still warm pumpkin pie on the window sill. next to it is the note that reads "thank you for staying at my farm. as a sign of my gratitude i baked you a pie with some of my prize winning pumpkin. please enjoy while it's still hot!"

you're sure you weren't especially full when you arrived, but as you set the note down and pick up the pie, you can feel your stomach growling. you search the nearby cabinets for a knife or a plate to serve yourself a slice, but you can't seem to find one anywhere.

you grumble to yourself, annoyed that the host seemingly forgot to provide any silverware except the fork left out next to the pie. pumpkin pie and fork in hand you step outside onto the porch, settling down onto a rather large wicker bench.

you dive the fork into the pie, bringing the bite up to your lips. it smells amazing, warm fall spices and even some almond filling your nose. you take a bite and are immediately shocked at how decadent and tasty it is. you can't help but taking another bite. and another. and another...

you don't even notice how fast you're eating, practically shoveling bite after bite into your mouth. it feels like its wrapping you up into a nice warm blanket, keeping you cozy in the outdoor fall weather. you absentmindedly undo your now too-tight pants, giving your round growing stomach more room. it feels heavy and warm but not full yet, so you keep eating.

you only stop when your fork can't even scrape up another bit. the pie pan empty and your stomach now full, you set it down and lay back, leaning against the backrest, rubbing your bloated heavy gut.

its not an unpleasant fullness, but a comforting one. you feel drowsy and at peace, staring out at the pumpkin fields. you don't even realize that your stomach is still growing, your shirt looking more like a crop top now, barely covering your chest at this point. the seems of your clothes creak but you aren't really bothered, finding your clothing now restrictive and uncomfortable.

you try to remove your pants, but find you can no longer stand up, so you simply let yourself grow even more, figuring you'd burst out of them eventually. as your clothes rip and fall away from your body you can feel something fuzzy around your legs, and as you look down you see vines crawling and winding up your legs and towards your still growing stomach and arms.

you can't even be bothered to fight it as the vines hold you down in place, some even slipping up from in between the wooden planks of the porch to wrap around you and hold you down. some even snake towards your tcock, sucking and pumping it, making you moan and writhe. as your mouth hangs open a vine takes its chance and dives in, pumping what tastes like even more of that delicious pie into your mouth.

the combination of the pleasure and the vines making you even fatter cause the bench below you to creak and groan, eventually crushing under your weight. you land with a thud onto the porch, beached on your back, letting the vines take care of you. you begin to close your eyes, so sleepy from all the pie in your stomach.

as you wake up in the morning you cannot even believe how large you are. a hand pats your huge belly, rubbing it comfortingly. the farmer, a plump attractive person with long scruffy hair coos as they pet you, peering down at you. "Good morning pumpkin! So how was the pie?" they ask with a southern twang. "Delicious im sure! its a recipe i developed myself to guarantee i'd have the biggest pumpkin for the state fair this season", they say with a chuckle, patting your taught pumpkin of a stomach. "So what'ya say pumpkin? you ready to win me that blue ribbon?"

you groan, head foggy and swimming with pleasure. you could get used to being a huge pampered pumpkin.

-🐶❤️

(sorry if i wrote too much i got a lil carried away !!)

God I've been reading and re-reading this ask and getting off to it over and over since I got it 🥵

This is absolutely incredible, I don't even know what to say other than how extremely hot I think this is and how much I could get used to being a huge pampered pumpkin with vines wrapping me up and taking care of me, toying with my tdick and making sure I always have something delicious in my mouth when I need to... also god I don't know if it's what you had in mind but the idea of my skin firming up and taking on a proper pumpkin texture/hue is really really hot to me too... literally obsessed with this

(also congrats on the pie stuffing! and to you and anyone else worried about sending long asks, please don't, it's really amazing and flattering to receive something this detailed and great!)

[marcusdoodlesalot]

BARK BARK BARK BARK

(that's dog for trick or treat)

Have some scooby snacks!

And, of course, Some modern AU Shadlink!

Twilight hummed away in Shad’s kitchen, washing pumpkins seeds of guys to put in the oven. Shad sat at the counter, filling candy bowls with treat bags (as well as a bowl with shots for adult trick or treaters), when Shad’s phone dinged. It startled both a little (they were both known to keep their phone on silent all the time), as Shad scrambled to set it to silent, opening the message and snickering a bit before answering. He set his phone back down, an amused grin on his face.

“What’s go you so amused?” Twilight asked as he turned back to the seeds, rinsing them for a final time before shaking the colander a few times to get more water off. Hmm, perhaps he should toss them in the salad spinner to get more water off?

“Oh, you know Ravio, correct?” Twilight crouched down to open the cabinet door and grab the lime and white spinner. He didn’t see it right way Ashe started digging.

“Legends boyfriend? Yeah, I know Ravio. He’s sweet and very funny. He used to theatre too, apparently. Though he was on the tech team…” he managed to dig the spinner out, placing it on the counter as he closed the cabinet door with his hip. “Wait, doesn’t he and Legend live down the street?”

Shad nodded chucking a bit.

“Yes, they have been living there for about two years now. Though apparently Legend was not aware of our proximity.” Twilight chuckled a bit in shock, pouring wet pumpkin seeds in the spinner, reattaching the lid as well.

“Really? He’s comes to the Halloween party we throw.” He started to spin them, pumping the button a few times.

“Yes, apparently he is only now aware because he was caught red handed trying to sabotage Ravio’s candy supplies for the night. He’s gonna need it if he intends to win.” He chuckled to himself. Twilight furrowed his brows, opening the top of the spinner to see dryer seeds. Good.

“‘Intends to win’? What do you mean by that?” He grabbed the mixing bowl he set on the counter, grabbing the oil bottle Shad kept next to the stove. Shad smirked a bit, moving back to preparing his treat bowls.

“Oh, just some friendly competition. Ravio believes he has the ability to up stage me in being the best house on Halloween. He is, of course, incorrect.” Twilight rolled his eyes shaking his head a bit, pouring in his spice mixture into the seeds as well, picking up the bowls to give them a toss,

“You seem a bit cocky there, don’t’cha think?” He poured the seeds on an awaiting sheet pan, opening the preheated oven and sliding them in, leaning back against it once he closed it, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Shad shook his head, grin widening.

“Why, not at all, my love! I am just saying facts, is all.” Twilight sighed a bit, moving over to the bar counter and leaning over it, closer to Shad’s face. Shad abandoned his checking to lean in close to Twilight as well, just an inch or so apart for the other.

“I kinda like when you’re this confident in yourself. Maybe you should do competitions like this for other holidays?” He leaned in, giving Shad a peck on the lips, standing back up straight, hands on his hips. Shad went back to work, humming with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Perhaps a should, if you so think so, my dear.” Twilight chuckled, moving to set the timer. He then proceeded to talk through the dinner room (room was generous, it was more of an area with a square table and a few chairs they used to eat sometimes) and opened the bedroom door.

“Well, I’m gonna change into my costume. Still can’t go over how genius your party and trick or treating costumes are.” Shad chuckled a bit, standing up to walk into his bedroom as well, likely to prepare as well.

“Well, as lovely as you look in heels and a corset wearing a lab coat, I don’t think Dr. Frankenfurter and Rocky are particularly appropriate costumes for children. It seems that Janett and Brad will have to do.” He sighed a bit, watching as Twilight received the pink dress he put on the dresser.

“Oh, I’ll certainly miss you prancing around in those golden boxing shorts.” Shad shook his head with a snicker before moving to grab his own costume.

“Well, damnit, Janett.” He muttered, getting a giggle from Twilight.

[samynnad102687]

Marauderstober

Oct 25 - Pandora & Regulus - Pumpkin Spice Latte

1,188 words

Regulus was waiting for Pandora to come over. She claimed that she was taking him somewhere and was going to change his life. He was sceptical, as always, but sometimes Pandora did manage to surprise him with her little adventures. The last time she claimed that she was going to change his life, she brought him to the lake. He was hesitant since he never learned how to swim. His parents didn’t think it was a necessary skill. Pandora thought otherwise and taught him how to. James was ecstatic when he found out and declared that they needed a lake day at least once a week in the summer.

But seeing as it was October, Regulus doubted that she was going to bring him to any sort of body of water. He really didn’t want to deal with freezing cold waters to appease whatever she had her mind set on today. Regulus was in the kitchen putting the dishes away when the knock came on the door and Pandora’s voice flittered down the hallway. The knock was clearly just a courtesy.

“Reggie?”

“In the kitchen,” Regulus called back and Pandora appeared in the doorway a few moments later. 

“Are you ready to go?” Pandora asked with that mischievous smile of hers and Regulus sighed.

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“That would just ruin the surprise, you know that,” she said as she patted his arm gently.

“Still didn’t hurt to ask. You know I don’t like surprises.” 

“Uh-huh, sure you don’t. You can’t fool me, Reggie.” 

He really didn’t like surprises or more it depended on who the surprises were from. Pandora’s surprises he could deal with with very little complaining. Barty on the other hand, he would need full details and the thought process behind the ‘surprise’ that he was dragging Regulus to. He genuinely enjoyed James’ surprises too but not his brother’s. It all depended on who it was, not that he was going to tell anybody that. Regulus preferred that everyone thought that he hated them.

Regulus stared at her for another minute before giving in.

“Fine, don’t tell me. Can I at least finish putting these away?” Regulus asked as he gestured towards the dishes still in the dishwasher.

“I suppose that would be alright. Do you need any help?”

“No, I got it. I’m almost done anyway.”

Regulus finished putting the dishes away while Pandora sat at the island and messed around on her phone for a minute. If he had to guess, she was looking up directions for whatever it was that she had in mind for their afternoon.

“How long is this little adventure going to take?” Regulus asked as he put the last of the mugs away in the cabinet.

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Pandora replied absentmindedly.

Regulus grabbed his jacket and slipped on his boots before gesturing for Pandora to walk ahead of him so he could shut the door. He went to his car only for Pandora to walk right past it, so he shrugged and followed her. He didn’t mind a little walk as long as it wasn’t too chilly outside. They walked for about ten minutes but it felt like three since they were chatting about nothing of importance but it did distract him from the wind that had picked up as they walked. It took Regulus a few seconds to realise that Pandora had stopped in front of a coffee shop.

“You know that I could have made us coffee at my house,” Regulus said as he looked at Pandora. She wasn’t walking in, more just standing and staring at the sign.

Regulus dragged his attention away from Pandora to see what had captured her attention so thoroughly. Come and try our new Pumpkin Spice Latte! It will change your life! Bold claims from a sign, Regulus thought. 

“Did you seriously drag me to a coffee shop to try a seasonal drink that every coffee shop in town sells?” 

“Not just to try the drink,” Pandora said absentmindedly. “I wanted to get you out of the house too.”

“I left the house the other day,” Regulus declared, offended.

“Taking out the rubbish is not what I meant. You haven’t gone anywhere all week. I’ve seen James out and about but not you.”

“I’ve been busy.” Pandora glared at him for a second. “It still hasn’t been that long,” Regulus said like a petulant child. 

“When was the last time you went out?”

“Friday?” Regulus said but it came out as a question.

“It’s Thursday. You haven’t left your house in a week.” Regulus pulled out his phone to check the date and it was indeed Thursday. Where the hell did the week go?

“Fine, so I haven’t been out in a while. Sue me.”

“Come on,” Pandora replied as she grabbed his arm and practically dragged him into the coffee shop. 

It was cosy and warm. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to enjoy some coffee with Pandora. He didn’t know about this Pumpkin Spice Latte though. He much preferred his black coffee or espresso. Regulus wasn’t really into the sweet drinks all that much. Not that he could convince Pandora of that. 

They walked up to the counter and ordered two Pumpkin Spice Lattes and a breakfast sandwich before finding a table in the corner away from everyone else. Just because he could tolerate Pandora dragging him around didn’t mean that he wanted to deal with other people. 

“What do you think?” Pandora asked after she took a sip of her latte.

“I haven’t actually taken a sip yet, Panda.”

Pandora sat there quietly and stared at Regulus until he took a sip of his Pumpkin Spice Latte. It was sweet, just like he expected but he didn’t expect the different warm spices. Granted, Regulus never bothered to look up what was actually in a Pumpkin Spice Latte. He just knew it was a seasonal drink and was known to be a drink for white girls. Was it going to be his new favourite drink? No. Could he finish this one? Probably, he only got a small one in case he didn’t like it and he doesn’t like to waste things. 

“It’s alright, I guess,” Regulus said after a few minutes. 

“You want your black coffee, don’t you?” 

“Kind of, yeah.” Regulus shrugged. 

“You’re no fun sometimes,” Pandora huffed before taking another sip of her drink.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, I still love you.”

“Love you too, Panda.”

They spent the next hour in the coffee shop. Regulus got his black coffee and they chatted about what he’s been writing for his book and when he was going to let Pandora read it. He wasn’t ready for anybody to read it yet and he told her as much but what he didn’t tell her is that he promised James that he could read it first, when Regulus was ready that is. After they finished their coffees and sandwiches, they walked the ten minutes back to Regulus’ house and put on a movie to watch until James came home from work. 

@cazzythefrogking @clementinewoolf @maladaptivewriting @multiimoments @lavenderhaze @literally-the-prettiest-star @thebibutterflyao3 @seiworf @emjayeingray @remusregulusrosekiller @heartsoncover @accuratewhereabouts @belowthestarrs